... you conceive of anything finer than that? And yet it is no fancy picture; it is cold, sober, unadorned truth. What fancy could add to it? The attempt would be wasteful and ridiculous excess. Marshal Ney , reeling from wounds and exhaustion covered with blood, staggering into a Prussian town and exclaiming, I am the rear guard of the Grand Army, was not a more heroic figure. At Gettysburg his cond...