d to
see there, and that was no less than Major General Meade, whom the Army
of the Potomac was fortunate enough to have at that time to command it.
See how a great General looked upon the field, and what he said and did
at the moment, and when he learned of his great victory. To appreciate
the incident I give, it should be borne in mind that one coming up from
the rear of the line, as did General Meade, could have seen very little
of our own men, who had now crossed the crest, and although he could
have heard the noise, he could not have told its occasion, or by whom
made, until he had actually attained the crest. One who did not know
results, so coming, would have been quite as likely to have supposed
that our line there had been carried and captured by the enemy--so many
gray Rebels were on the crest--as to have discovered the real truth.
Such mistake was really made by one of our officers, as I shall relate.

General Meade rode up, accompanied alone by his son, who is his
aide-de-camp, an escort, if select, not large for a commander of such an
army. The principal horseman was no bedizened hero of some holiday
review, but he was a plain man, dressed in a serviceable summer suit of
dark blue cloth, without badge or ornament, save the shoulder-straps of
his grade, and a light, straight sword of a General or General staff
officer. He wore heavy, high-top boots and buff gauntlets, and his soft
black felt hat was slouched down over his eyes. His face was very white,
not pale, and the lines were marked and earnest and full of care. As he
arrived near me, coming up the hill, he asked, in a sharp, eager voice:
"How is it going here?" "I believe, General, the enemy's attack is
repulsed," I answered. Still approaching, and a new light began to come
in his face, of gratified surprise, with a touch of incredulity, of
which his voice was also the medium, he further asked: "_What! Is the
assault already repulsed?_" his voice quicker and more eager than
before. "It is, sir," I replied. By this time he was on the crest, and
when his eye had for an instant swept over the field, taking in just a
glance of the whole--the masses of prisoners, the numerous captured
flags which the men were derisively flaunting about, the fugitives of
the routed enemy, disappearing with the speed of terror in the
woods--partly at what I had told him, partly at what he saw, he said,
impressively, and his face lighted: "Thank God." And then his right hand
m