[Illustration:  MAJ.  GEN.  GEORGE E. PICKETT]

It was nearly a mile to the Union lines, and as they advanced over the open plain the Federal artillery opened again, ploughing great lanes through their solid ranks, but they closed up to ‘guide centre’ as if upon dress-parade; when half way over Pickett halted his division amidst a terrible fire of shot and shell, and changed his direction by an oblique movement coolly and beautifully made.  But here occurred the greatest mistake of all.  Wilcox paid no attention to this change of movement, but kept straight on to the front, thus opening a tremendous gap between the two columns and exposing Pickett’s right to all the mishaps that afterwards overtook it.  To those who have ever faced artillery fire it is marvellous and unexplainable how human beings could have advanced a mile under the terrific fire of a hundred cannon, every inch of air being laden with the missiles of death; but in splendid formation they still came bravely on till within range of the musketry; then the blue line of Hancock’s corps arose and poured into their ranks a murderous fire.  With a wild yell the rebels pushed on, unfalteringly crossed the Federal line and laid hands upon eleven cannon.

Men fired in each others faces; there were bayonet thrusts, cutting with sabres, hand to hand contests, oaths, curses, yells and hurrahs.  The second corps fell back behind the guns to allow the use of grape and double canister, and as it tore through the rebel ranks at only a few paces distant the dead and wounded were piled in ghastly heaps.  Still on they came up to the very muzzles of the guns; they were blown away from the cannon’s mouth but yet they did not waver.  Pickett had taken the key to the position and the glad shout of victory was heard, as, the very impersonation of a soldier, he still forced his troops to the crest of Cemetery Ridge.  Kemper and Armistead broke through Hancock’s line, scaled the hill and planted their flags on its crest.  Just before Armistead was shot, he placed his flag upon a captured cannon and cried “Give them the cold steel, boys!”; but valor could do no more, the handful of braves had won immortality but could not conquer an army.  Pettigrew’s weak division was broken fleeing and almost annihilated.  Wilcox, owing to his great mistake in separating his column was easily routed, and Stannard’s Vermonters thrown into the gap were creating havoc on Pickett’s flank.  Pickett, seeing his supports gone, his generals, Kemper, Armistead and Garnett killed or wounded, every field officer of three brigades gone, three-fourths of his men killed or captured, himself untouched but broken-hearted, gave the order for retreat, but band of heroes as they were they fled not; but amidst that still continuous, terrible fire they slowly, sullenly, recrossed the plain,—­all that was left of them, but few of five thousand.

[Illustration:  Position of troops at time of attack on left centre on 3rd day of battle of Gettysburg.]