not show the amazing vigor and penetration that were associated with the
name of Lee both before and afterwards. Perhaps it was an excess of
caution, due to his isolated position in the enemy's country, and
perhaps it was the loss of Jackson. Whatever it was, the precious hours
passed, the enemy, small in numbers, was not driven from his refuge on
Cemetery Hill, and the battle died.

The Southern leaders themselves did not know the smallness of the
Northern force that had taken shelter on the hill. That hardening of
the resistance which Harry had felt more than once had been exemplified
to the full that deadly morning. Buford and Reynolds had shown the
penetration and resolution of Jackson himself, and their troops had
supported them with a courage and tenacity never surpassed in battle.
Only sixteen or seventeen thousand in number, they had left ten thousand
killed and wounded around the town, but with only one-third of their
numbers unhurt they rallied anew on Cemetery Hill and once more turned
defiant faces toward the enemy.

Hancock, whose greatest day also was at hand, had arrived, sent forward
in haste by Meade. Unsurpassed as a corps commander, and seeing the
advantage of the position, he went among the beaten but willing remnants,
telling them to hold on, as Meade and the whole Army of the Potomac were
coming at full speed, and would be there to meet Lee and the South in
the morning.

Both commanding generals felt that the great battle was to be fought to
a finish there. Meade had not yet arrived, but he was hurrying forward
all the divisions, ready to concentrate them upon Cemetery Hill.
Lee also was bringing up all his troops, save the cavalry of Stuart,
now riding on the raid around the Northern army, and absent when they