On the morning of July 2, both commanding generals were in the field.  After careful studies and consultations Lee ordered an attack on both the extreme right and extreme left of the Union position, meeting some success in the former, but a complete repulse in the latter.  That night, Meade’s council of war, coinciding with his own judgment, resolved to stand and fight it out; while Lee, against the advice of Longstreet, his ablest general, with equal decision determined to risk the chance of a final and determined attack.

It was Meade who began the conflict at dawn on the morning of July 3, but only long enough to retake and hold the intrenchments on his extreme right, which he had lost the evening before; then for some hours an ominous lull and silence fell over the whole battle-field.  But these were hours of stern preparation At midday a furious cannonade began from one hundred and thirty Confederate guns on Seminary Ridge, which was answered with promptness and spirit by about seventy Union guns from the crests and among the boulders of Cemetery Ridge; and the deafening roar of artillery lasted for about an hour, at the end of which time the Union guns ceased firing and were allowed to cool, and to be made ready to meet the assault that was sure to come.  There followed a period of waiting almost painful to officers and men, in its intense expectancy; and then across the broad, undulating, and highly cultivated valley swept the long attacking line of seventeen thousand rebel infantry, the very flower of the Confederate army.  But it was a hopeless charge.  Thinned, almost mowed down by the grape-shot of the Union batteries and the deadly aim of the Union riflemen behind their rocks and intrenchments the Confederate assault wavered, hesitated, struggled on, and finally melted away before the destructive fire.  A few rebel battle-flags reached the crest, only, however, to fall, and their bearers and supporters to be made prisoners.  The Confederate dream of taking Philadelphia and dictating peace and separation in Independence Hall was over forever.

It is doubtful whether Lee immediately realized the full measure of his defeat, or Meade the magnitude of his victory.  The terrible losses of the battle of Gettysburg—­over three thousand killed, fourteen thousand wounded, and five thousand captured or missing of the Union army; and twenty-six hundred killed, twelve thousand wounded, and five thousand missing of the Confederates—­largely occupied the thoughts and labors of both sides during the national holiday which followed.  It was a surprise to Meade that on the morning of July 5 the Confederate army had disappeared, retreating as rapidly as might be to the neighborhood of Harper’s Ferry.  Unable immediately to cross because the Potomac was swollen by heavy rains, and Meade having followed and arrived in Lee’s front on July 10, President Lincoln had the liveliest hopes that Meade would again attack and capture or destroy the Confederate army.