large accessions, his rear would have closed up, and the advance into Pennsylvania would have taken place. Instead of this, he was forced to retire and fight a pitched battle at Sharpsburg; and this action certainly exhibited on Lee's part military ability of the highest order. The force opposed to him had been at least double that of his own army, and the Federal troops had fought with a gallantry unsurpassed in any other engagement of the war. That their assault on Lee failed, was due to the fighting qualities of his troops and his own generalship. His army had been manœuvred with a rapidity and precision which must have excited even the admiration of the distinguished soldier opposed to him. He had promptly concentrated his forces opposite every threatened point in turn, and if he had not been able to carry out the axiom of Napoleon, that a commander should always be superior to the enemy at the point of contact, he had at least done all that was possible to effect that end, and had so far succeeded as to have repulsed if not routed his adversary. This is the main feature to be noticed in Lee's handling of his troops at Sharpsburg. An unwary or inactive commander would have there suffered decisive defeat, for the Confederate left wing numbered, throughout the early part of the battle, scarcely more than four thousand men, while the column directed against it amounted first to eighteen thousand, and in all to forty thousand men. To meet the impact of this heavy mass, not only desperate fighting, but rapid and skilful manœuvring, was necessary. The record we have presented will enable the reader to form his own opinion whether Lee was equal to this emergency involving the fate of his army.

Military critics, examining this great battle with fair and

candid eyes, will not fail, we think, to discern the truth. That the Southern army, of less than forty thousand men, repulsed more than eighty thousand in the battle of Sharpsburg, was due to the hard fighting of the smaller force, and the skill with which its commander manœuvred it.

VII.

LEE AND HIS MEN.

GENERAL LEE and his army passed the brilliant days of autumn in the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. This region is famous for its salubrity and the beauty of its scenery. The mountain winds are pure and invigorating, and the forests, which in the season of autumn assume all the colors of the rainbow, inspire the mind with the most agreeable sensations. The region, in fact, is known as the "Garden of Virginia," and the benign influence of their surroundings was soon seen on the faces of the troops.

A Northern writer, who saw them at Sharpsburg, describes them as "ragged, hungry, and in all ways miserable;" but their forlorn condition, as to clothing and supplies of every description, made no perceptible difference in their demeanor now. In their camps along the banks of the picturesque little stream called the Opequan, which, rising south of Winchester, wanders through beautiful fields and forests to empty into the Potomac, the troops laughed, jested, sang rude camp-ballads, and exhibited a joyous indifference to their privations and hardships, which said much for their courage and endurance. Those who carefully considered the appearance and demeanor of the men at that

time, saw that much could be effected with such tough material, and had another opportunity to witness, under circumstances calculated to test it, the careless indifference, to the past as well as the future, peculiar alike to soldiers and children. These men, who had passed through a campaign of hard marches and nearly incessant battles, seemed to have forgotten all their troubles and sufferings. The immense strain upon their energies had left them apparently as fresh and efficient as when the campaign begun. There was no want of rebound; rather an excessive elasticity and readiness to undertake new movements. They had plainly acquired confidence in themselves, rightly regarding the event of the battle of Sharpsburg, where they were so largely outnumbered, as highly honorable to them, and they had acquired still greater confidence in the officers who commanded them.

We shall hereafter speak more particularly of the sentiment of the troops toward General Lee at this period of his connection with the army. The great events of the war continually modified the relations between him and his men ; as they came to know him better and better, he steadily rose in their admiration and regard. At this time—the autumn of 1862-it may be said that the troops had already begun to love their leader, and had bestowed upon him as an army commander their implicit confidence.

Without this confidence on the part of his men, a general can effect little; with it, he may accomplish almost any thing. The common soldier is a child, and feels that the directing authority is above him; that he should look upon that authority with respect and confidence is the first necessity of effecting military organization. Lee had already inspired the troops with this sentiment, and it was mainly the

secret of his often astounding successes afterward. The men universally felt that their commander was equal to any and every emergency. Such a repute cannot be usurped. Troops measure their leaders with instinctive acumen, and a very astonishing accuracy. They form their opinions for themselves on the merits of the question; and Lee had already impressed the army with a profound admiration for his soldiership. From this to the sentiment of personal affection the transition was easy; and the kindness, consideration, and simplicity of the man, made all love him. Throughout the campaign, Lee had not been heard to utter one harsh word; a patient forbearance and kindness had been constantly exhibited in all his dealings with officers and men; he was always in front, indifferent plainly to per sonal danger, and the men looked now with admiring eyes and a feeling of ever-increasing affection on the erect, soldierly figure in the plain uniform, with scarce any indication of rank, and the calm face, with its expression of grave dig nity and composure, which remained unchanged equally on the march and in battle. It may be said that, when he assumed command of the army before Richmond, the troops had taken him on trust; now they had come to love him, and when he appeared the camps buzzed, the men ran to the road, called out to each other: "There goes Mas' Robert!" or "Old Uncle Robert!" and cheers followed him as he rode by.

The country generally seemed to share the opinion of the army. There was exhibited, even at this early period of the war, by the people at large, a very great admiration and affection for General Lee. While in the Shenandoah Valley, where Jackson was beloved almost beyond expres

sion, Lee had evidences of the position which he occupied in the eyes of the people, which must have been extremely gratifying to him. Gray-haired men came to his camp and uttered prayers for his health and happiness as the great leader of the South; aged ladies greeted him with faltering expressions full of deep feeling and pathetic earnestness; and, wherever he went, young girls and children received him with their brightest smiles. The august fame of the great soldier, who has now passed away, no doubt renders these memories of personal interviews with him dear to many. Even the most trifling incidents are cherished and kept fresh by repetition; and the writer of these pages recalls at the moment one of these trifles, which may possibly interest some readers. There stood and still stands an ancient and hospitable homestead on the south bank of the Opequan, the hearts of whose inmates, one and all, were ardently with the South in her struggle. Soon after Sharpsburg, General Lee one day visited the old manor-house crowning the grassy hill and overshadowed by great oaks; Generals Jackson, Longstreet, and Stuart, accompanied him, and the reception which he met with, though we cannot describe it, was such as would have satisfied the most exacting. The children came to him and held out their small hands, the ladies divided their attention between him and the beloved "hero of the Valley," Jackson; and the lady of the manor could only express her sense of the great honor of receiving such company, by declaring, with a smile, that the dinner resembled the famous breakfast at Tillietudlem in Scott's "Old Mortality." General Lee highly enjoyed this, and seemed disposed to laugh when the curious fact was pointed out to him that he had seated himself at table