Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 February 1913 — AROUND THE CAMP FIRE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AROUND THE CAMP FIRE

GENERAL LEE AT GETTYSBURG Southern Army "Officer's Love Letter Sheds Light on Famous Controversy as to Blame. The battle of Gettysburg, as every schoolboy knows, practically decided the War of the Rebellion. Bitter controversy has always existed between; the southern generals who took part In this world-famous battle as to who wap to blame for the ill-advised as- . sadlf upon the impregnable position of the Union troops which resulted so disastrously to the southern cause. New light is shed on this interesting question in Pictorial Review, wherein, is published the second installment of “The Love Letters of a Confederate General,” in which the blame for forcing the battle is clearly put up to General Lee. These letters were written by a world-famous general to the woman who later became his wife. The situation at Gettysburg is described as follows on the day preceding the final assault: “All three sent regards to you, and Old Lewis pulled a ring from his little finger and, making me take it, said. Give this little token, George, please, to her of the sunset eyes, with my love, and tell her the “old man” says since he could not be the lucky dog he’s mighty glad that you are.’ Dear old Lewis—dear old Lo, as Magruder always called him, being short for Lothario. Well, my Chula, I’ll keep the ring for you and some day I’ll take it to John Tyler and have it mads into a breastpin and set around with, rubies and diamonds and emeralds. “Just as we three separated to go our different wayß, after silently clasping hands, our and prayers voiced in the ‘Good luck, old man,’ a summons came from Old Peter (Longstreet), and I immediately rode to the top of the ridge where he and Marse Robert were making a reconnaisance of Mead’s position. ‘Great God!’ said Old Peter as I came up. ‘Look, General Lee, at the Insurmountable difficulties between our line and that of the Yankees—the steep hills, the tiers of i artillery, the fences, the heavy Bkirmish line—and then we’ll have to fight our infantry against their batteries. ,Look at the ground •vye’U have to ohaflre over, nearly a mite of -thatopen ground there under the rain of their canister and shrapnel.’ “ ‘The enemy is here, General Longstreet, and I am going to strike him,’' said Marse Robert in his firm, quiet, determined voice.

'“About eight o’clock I rode withi them along our line of prostrate infantry. They had been told to liedown to prevent attracting attention,, and, though they had been forbidden to cheer, they voluntarily arose and! lifted in reverential adoration their caps to our beloved commander aa we rode slowly along. Oh, the responsibility for the lives of such men. as these! Well, my beloved darling, their fate and that of our beloved Southland will be settled ere your gracious brown eyes rest on these* scraps of penciled paper—your soldier’s last letter, perhaps. “Our line of battle faces Cemeteryridge. Our detachments have been thrown forward to support our artillery, which stretches over a mile along the crests of Oak ridge and Seminary ridge. The men are in the rear, my darling, and the hot July sun pours its scorching rays almost vertically down upon them. The suffering and waiting is almost unbearable. Now and then an olive branch of hope in the shape of a. courier bearing a message revives them. “Well, my sweetheart, at one o’clock the awful silence was broken by a cannon shot, and then another, and then more than a hundred guns shook the hillß from crest to base, answered by more than another hundred —the whole world a blazing volcano, the whole heaven a thunderbolt —then darkness and absolute silence —then the grim and grewsome, low-spoken commands then the forming of the attacking columns, the hurrying of the men to the positions assigned to them. My brave Virginians are to attack in front. Oh, God, in mercy help me as he never helped before! "I have ridden up to report to Old Peter. I shall give him this letter to mall to you and a package to give you it —oh, my darling, do you feel the love of my heart, the prayer, as I write the fatal word —*lf?’ “Now, my darling, I go; hut remember always that I love you with all my heart and soul, with every fiber of my being; that now and forever I am yours—yours, my beloved. It is almost three o’clock. My soul reaches out to yours—my prayers. I’ll keep up a shook-um-tum-tum for Virginia and you, my darling. “YOUR SOLDIER LOVER.”