“But they and their guns were forgotten.  Their part in the bloody drama was to be superseded, and we now witnessed a sight which can scarcely ever be surpassed.  Emerging from the woods on the opposite ridge, over a mile away, came long lines of infantry.  Our position was to be assaulted.  I suppose the cessation of our firing led the enemy to think that our batteries had been silenced and the infantry supports driven from the hill.  The attacking column was forming right under our eyes, and we could see other Confederate troops moving up on the right and left to cover the movement and aid in carrying it out.

“There was bustle on our side also, in spite of the enemy’s shells, which still fell thickly along our line.  New batteries were thundering up at a gallop; those at the front, which had horses left, were withdrawn; others remained where they had been shattered and disabled, fresh pieces taking position beside them.  The dead and wounded were rapidly carried to the rear, and the army stripped itself, like an athlete, for the final struggle.

“Our batteries again opened with solid shot at the distant Confederate infantry, but there was only the hesitation on their part incident to final preparation.  Soon on came their centre rapidly, their flank supports, to right and left, moving after them.  It proved to be the launching of a human thunderbolt, and I watched its progress, fascinated and overwhelmed with awe.”

“Were you exposed at this time to the enemy’s shells?” Marias asked.

“Yes, but their fire was not so severe as it had been, and my interest in the assault was so absorbing that I could scarcely think of anything else.  I could not help believing that the fate of our army, perhaps of the country, was to be decided there right under my eyes, and this by an attack involving such deadly peril to the participants that I felt comparatively safe.

“The scene during the next half-hour defies description.  All ever witnessed in Roman amphitheatres was child’s play in comparison.  The artillery on both sides had resumed its heavy din, the enemy seeking to distract our attention and render the success of their assault more probable, and we concentrating our fire on that solid attacking column.  As they approached nearer, our guns were shotted with shells that made great gaps in their ranks, but they never faltered.  Spaces were closed instantly, and on they still came like a dark, resistless wave tipped with light, as the sun glinted on their bayonets through rifts of smoke.

“As they came nearer, our guns in front crumbled and decimated the leading ranks with grape and canister, while other batteries farther away to the right and left still plowed red furrows with shot and shell; but the human torrent, although shrinking and diminishing, flowed on.  I could not imagine a more sublime exhibition of courage.  Should the South rear to the skies a monument to their soldiers, it would be insignificant compared with that assaulting column, projected across the plain of Gettysburg.