Almost before daylight our waggons were loaded and away, for
the Headquarters are only a few hundred yards in the rear of our heavy guns and
directly on the road, so that we expected a nice lot of shells, say at 8.10 A.M.
A little before that the General mounted and rode towards General Newton's
quarters, and, while near there, bang! went a cannon on the right; then boom!
boom! from the 32pounders, and then, bang, boom, bang, pretty
generally. In all the woods the troops were massed for the attack, waiting
orders. We rode back to Headquarters, and, a moment after, Captain Roebling
from General Warren's Staff, galloped up. He is the most immovable of men, but
had, at that moment, rather a troubled air. He handed a scrap of paper. General
Meade opened it and his face changed. “My God!” he said, “General Warren has half
my army at his disposition!” Roebling shrugged his shoulders. The note was to
the effect that General Warren had made a careful examination of the enemy's
works, had altered his opinion of last evening, and considered an assault
hopeless!!! Orders were at once issued to cease firing. We tried to take it all
philosophically, but it was hard, very hard. Most of all to General Meade and
General Humphreys, who really took it admirably, for both of them have
excellent tempers of their own, which, on occasions, burst forth, like
twelve-pounder spherical case. In a little while the General again rode away;
this time to see General Warren, some four miles off. Two aides, besides
myself, went with him. We rode along the rear of our batteries, which were
still, from time to time, exchanging shots with those opposite; though not when
I chanced to be passing, I am happy to say. General Warren had a sad face, as
well he might. He drew aside, with the two other generals, and there they
stood, in long consultation, over a fire which had been made for them, for the
air was sharp. Then we started back again, stopping half-way at General
French's, whom we found in a fuming passion, partly because two of his
divisions had been, in some way, put under guidance of General Warren, and
partly because he was all ready for the assault and had pushed his skirmish
line to within 300 yards of the Rebel works, while the storming parties were in
a great rage at not being led on. Alas! it was of no use; General Humphreys,
with a heavy sigh, pronounced the opportunity (if it had ever existed) now
past; and, when he cries no fight, you may be sure there is not much
chance. At a meeting that evening, the other generals concurred. It was
physically impossible to flank any more on either side, and the only thing that
remained was:
The King of France
with forty thousand men,
Marched up a hill;
and then marched down again.
Wherever the fault lies, I shall always be astonished at the
extraordinary moral courage of General Meade, which enabled him to order a
retreat, when his knowledge, as an engineer and a soldier, showed that an
attack would be a blunder. The men and guns stood ready: he had only to snap
his fingers, and that night would probably have seen ten thousand wretched,
mangled creatures, lying on those long slopes, exposed to the bitter cold, and
out of reach of all help! Then people would have said: “He was unsuccessful;
but then he tried hard, and did not get out.”
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 56-8
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