's delay
in ordering Pickett's advance. Meanwhile the Federals had made
Culp's Hill quite safe against Ewell. So all depended now on the
one last desperate assault against the Federal center.

This immortal assault is known as Pickett's Charge because it was
made by Pickett's division of Longstreet's corps supported by three
brigades from Hill's--Wilcox's, Perry's, and Pettigrew's. The whole
formed a mass of about ten thousand men. If they broke the Federal
line in two, then every supporting Confederate was to follow, while
the rest turned the flanks. If they failed, then the battle must
be lost.

Hour after hour passed by. But it was not till well past one that
Longstreet opened fire with a hundred and forty guns. Hunt had
seventy-seven ready to reply. But after firing for half an hour
he ceased, wishing to reserve his ammunition for use against the
charging infantry. This encouraged the Confederate gunners, who
thought they had silenced him. They then continued for some time,
preparing the way for the charge, but firing too high and doing
little execution against the Federal infantry, who were lying down,
mostly under cover. Hunt's guns were more exposed and formed better
targets; so some of them suffered severely: none more than those of
Battery A, Fourth U.S. Artillery. This gallant battery had three
of its limbers blown up and replaced. Wheels were also smashed to
pieces and guns put out of action, till only a single gun, with
men enough to handle it, was left with only a single officer. This
heroic young lieutenant, Alonzo H. Cushing (brother to the naval
Cushing who destroyed the _Albemarle_), then ran his gun up to
the fence and fired his last round through it into Pickett's men
as he himself fell dead.

Pickett advanced at three o'clock, to the breathless admiration
of both friend and foe. He had a mile of open ground to cover. But
his three lines marched forward as steadily and blithely as if the
occasion was a gala one and they were on parade. The Confederate
bombardment ceased. The Federal guns and rifles held their fire. Fate
hung in silence on those gallant lines of gray. Then the Federal
skirmishers down in the valley began fitfully firing; and the waiting
masses on the Federal slopes began to watch more intently still.
"Here they come! Here comes the infantry!" The blue ranks stirred
a little as the men felt their cartridge boxes and the sockets of
their bayonets. The calm warnings of the officers c