This account of the movements of the army, and the preparations made to receive General Meade’s attack, may appear of undue length and minuteness of detail, in view of the fact that no battle ensued.  But the volume before the reader is not so much a history of the battles of Virginia, which have often been described, as an attempt to delineate the military and personal character of General Lee, which displayed itself often more strikingly in indecisive events than in those whose results attract the attention of the world.  It was the vigorous brain, indeed, of the great soldier, that made events indecisive—­warding off, by military acumen and ability, the disaster with which he was threatened.  At Mine Run, Lee’s quick eye for position, and masterly handling of his forces, completely checkmated an adversary who had advanced to deliver decisive battle.  With felled trees, breastworks, and a crawling stream, Lee reversed all the calculations of the commander of the Federal army.

From the 27th of November to the night of the 1st of December, General Meade moved to and fro in front of the formidable works of his adversary, feeling them with skirmishers and artillery, and essaying vainly to find some joint in the armor through which to pierce.  There was none.  Lee had inaugurated that great system of breastworks which afterward did him such good service in his long campaign with General Grant.  A feature of the military art unknown to Jomini had thus its birth in the woods of America; and this fact, if there were naught else of interest in the campaign, would communicate to the Mine-Run affair the utmost interest.

General Meade, it seems, was bitterly opposed to foregoing an attack.  In spite of the powerful position of his adversary, he ordered an assault, it is said; but this did not take place, in consequence, it would appear, of the reluctance of General Warren to charge the Confederate right.  This seemed so strong that the men considered it hopeless.  When the order was communicated to them, each one wrote his name on a scrap of paper and pinned it to his breast, that his corpse might be recognized, and, if possible, conveyed to his friends.  This was ominous of failure:  General Warren suspended the attack; and General Meade, it is said, acquiesced in his decision.  He declared, it is related, that he could carry the position with a loss of thirty thousand men; but, as that idea was frightful, there seemed nothing to do but retreat.

Lee seemed to realize the embarrassment of his adversary, and was in excellent heart throughout the whole affair.  Riding to and fro along his line among his “merry men”—­and they had never appeared in finer spirits, or with greater confidence in their commander—­he addressed encouraging words to them, exposed himself with entire indifference to the shelling, and seemed perfectly confident of the result.  It was on this occasion that, finding a party of his ragged soldiers devoutly kneeling in