110 Knnthem Historical Society Papers.
same spot, when the Texans yelled, " You go back, General Lee, to the rear," as they plunged into the masses of the enemy and hurled them back at the point of the bayonet.
But I saw him again that day, just a few minutes after Longstreet had been wounded, May 6th.
I had come across the Wilderness from Stuart. I dismounted and delivered a verbal message to General Lee.
He motioned me to follow him, and retiring on foot to an old dead tree, he sat down on the ground, and taking out his field map, or- dered me to show him where Stuart was fighting. I pointed out the spot on the map, away off to our right flank, and said: "General Stuart has struck a heavy line of battle, held by infantry and artil- lery, and cannot break through them."
And here for the first time I experienced what I afterward learned was almost a habit with General Lee- 1 - to think aloud. He mur- mured to himself as if addressing me: "Well, Captain, what shall we do?" To which inquiry I am pleased to say I had sense enough to make no reply, and, indeed, to appear as if I had not heard it.
THE MAN WHO KNEW AND DID.
The same question escaped his lips as if in soliloquy when I came to him and told him that the battle of Five Forks had gone against General Pickett, and as I heard his deep bass voice asking, " Well, Captain, what shall we do?" I felt that nothing short of Almighty Wisdom could provide a way out of that calamity. But it meant nothing. He knew what to do, and he did all that man could do to rectify the blunders that some of his people were constantly com- mitting.
Again I saw him the evening of the battle of Sailor's Creek. It was a few minutes before he learned of the great disaster that had befallen Custis Lee's Division and General Swell's troops.
We (that is to say, General Roberts' Cavalry Brigade), had just crossed the creek and were watching the gallant fight of Walker's Stonewall Brigade, against the surging host of Yankees on the op- posite bank. General Lee came up to our line, entirely alone, and dismounted near a cabin, holding "Traveler" by the bridle, and using his field glasses with the other hand. He was looking across the country at a large collection of white objects, which appeared like a flock of sheep, and as I stood beside him, he said: "Are those sheep or not?" "No, General, they are Yankee wagons."
