is space Pickett moved at the word, his line advancing
slowly, and perfectly "dressed," with its red battle-flags flying, and
the sunshine darting from the gun-barrels and bayonets. The two armies
were silent, concentrating their whole attention upon this slow and
ominous advance of men who seemed in no haste, and resolved to allow
nothing to arrest them. When the column had reached a point about
midway between the opposing heights the Federal artillery suddenly
opened a furious fire upon them, which inflicted considerable loss.
This, however, had no effect upon the troops, who continued to advance
slowly in the same excellent order, without exhibiting any desire
to return the fire. It was impossible to witness this steady and
well-ordered march under heavy fire without feeling admiration for the
soldiership of the troops who made it. Where shell tore gaps in the
ranks, the men quietly closed up, and the hostile front advanced in
the same ominous silence toward the slope where the real struggle, all
felt, would soon begin.

They were within a few hundred yards of the hill, when suddenly a
rapid cannon-fire thundered on their right, and shell and canister
from nearly fifty pieces of artillery swept the Southern line,
enfilading it, and for an instant throwing the right into some
disorder. This disappeared at once, however. The column closed up, and
continued to advance, unmoved, toward the height. At last the moment
came. The steady "common-time" step had become "quick time;" this had
changed to "double-quick;" then the column rushed headlong at the
enemy's breastworks on the slope of the hill. As they did so, the real
thunder began. A fearful fire of musketry burst forth, and struck them
in the face, and this hurricane scattered the raw troops of Pettigrew
as leaves are scattered by a wind. That whole portion of the line gave
way in disorder, and fled from the field, which was strewed with their
dead; and, as the other supports had not kept up, the Virginians under
Pickett were left alone to breast the tempest which had now burst upon
them in all its fury.

They returned the fire from the breastworks in their front with a
heavy volley, and then, with loud cheers, dashed at the enemy's works,
which they reached, stormed, and took possession of at the point of
the bayonet. Their loss, however, was frightful. Garnett was killed;
Armistead fell, mortally wounded, as he leaped on the breastworks,
cheering and waving his ha