He told me when his brigade was forming for the fight on the first day at Gettysburg that his only regret was that some of his regiments were not better trained, more thorough seasoned, and that some, perhaps many of them, would not survive the action. After the fighting was over for that day, I observed a bullet hole in the crown of his hat just above and in a direct line with the centre of his forehead, and called his attention to the narrow escape he had made. “Better there than an inch lower,” was the brief and careless response, and if he ever alluded to the circumstance again I did not hear it.From July, 1863, until the day of his death his name and fame and that of his command were part of the history of the wonderful Army of Northern Virginia. On the morning of May 12th, 1864, as the Fourteenth North Carolina regiment swept forward to regain the ground just lost by Edward Johnson's division, Brigadier-General Daniel, its old commander, saluted it and bade it God-speed and a worthy record. That day he fought his last fight, at the post of duty, full of courage, inspiring the timid by his example. Doing all that mortal man could do to stem the fierce current of battle, he yielded to the cruel surgery of the sword, and trod the wine press alone. He lingered until the next day. A few hours before his death the surgeons were called in to ascertain if his wife could reach him before he died. As this was impossible, he sent his last message of love to
This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.