Comte de Paris, History of the Civil War in America. Vol. 3.
Henry Coppee , LL.D., Ed.

The Federals study with attention, then with uneasiness, the positions which they are about to assault. Almost all have witnessed Fredericksburg and Gettysburg; they know by a double experience that a bloody defeat is reserved to that of the two armies which takes the offensive. It is said that most of them on the morning of the 30th took care to pin to their coats pieces of paper bearing their names. They wished that their names might be placed over the fresh earth which was to cover them in their everlasting sleep. No hope of glory was occupying their minds at that supreme hour, but they were anxious to secure on that distant soil the modest epitaph which allows the soldier's family to distinguish his remains, instead of having to kneel at the grave of the unknown. It was in this manner, it is related, that they silently showed the conviction that they were going to be asked for a useless sacrifice. If it is only a legend—for legends are sometimes easily made—it is worth being quoted, for it perfectly describes the character of the Army of the Potomac.

A few minutes more and it will be eight o'clock: every one is waiting for the signal; faces are grave but resolute. Warren, however, has been still more struck than his soldiers by the formidable aspect of the enemy's positions: those which seemed scarcely defended on the evening of the preceding day are covered with artillery. His first examination had perhaps been too superficial. He ought to have foreseen that by parading his forces on the evening of the 29th, and leaving to his adversaries fourteen hours respite, he was inviting them to put themselves on their defence. But Warren will not lose time in useless regrets: he has a rapid coup d'oeil and a correct judgment, and does not shrink from responsibility. His decision is quickly made: the attack trusted to his care cannot succeed, and he does not hesitate to postpone it. He must have great moral courage to take this step, for he will be pardoned more easily, he knows, an unfortunate act of daring than the most justifiable prudence. The fatal hour has come: the regiments under arms receive no orders —a painful waiting to those who are ready to march to death, and which at first arouses in them a feverish impatience. But they soon divine the wise hesitation of Warren; they whisper to each other that the attack is abandoned, and every one immediately