As he spoke the sun finished the draught. The rolling plain north of Culpeper lay bare. All the dewy, green middle waited for the cavalry evolutions, for the march past, but the farther side, up and down and over against Jeb Stuart’s flag, was already occupied and not by cavalry. Troops and troops and troops, like a grey wall pointed with banners!—Horse Artillery, from its place of vantage, stared, then softly crowed. “Great day in the morning! Marse Robert has brought the whole First Corps!” Now here, now there, on the plain, went in brilliant manœuvres the cavalry. The horse artillery came into line, manœuvred and thundered as brilliantly. The massed infantry cheered, the reviewing general stood with a grave light in his eyes. Jeb Stuart shifted his place like a sunbeam. Oh, the blowing bugles; oh, the red and blue flag outstreaming; oh, the sunlight and the clear martial sounds and the high, high hopes on the plain north of Culpeper! June was in the heart of most; doubly, doubly was it the Confederacy’s June, this month! Great victories in Virginia lay behind it: in the Far South there had been disasters, but Vicksburg—Vicksburg was heroically standing the siege. And in front lay, perhaps, the crossing of the Potomac and the carrying the war into Africa! June, June, June! it sang in the blood of the grey. Long and horrible had been the war, and many were the lost, and tears had drenched the land, but now it was summer and victory would come before the autumn. The North was tired of spilling blood and treasure; there sounded a clamour for peace. One or two other great victories, and peace would descend and the great Confederacy would stand! The march past raised its eyes to the crimson banner with the thirteen stars, and June was in every soldier’s heart. The march past was a thing to have seen and to remember. By the starry banner, by Robert Edward Lee, went the cavalry brigades of his son, “Roony” Lee, of his nephew, Fitzhugh Lee, of Beverly Robertson, of W.E. Jones, of Wade Hampton. They lifted their sabres, the sun made a dazzle of steel. June, June, June! sang the bugles, sang the birds in the woods back of the warm-hearted, the admiring infantry. Past went the horse artillery, the thirty guns, the proud battery horses, the easy and bronzed cannoneers, the grave young officers.... _General Lee! General Lee!_ shouted Cavalry, shouted Artillery! The dust rose from the plain, all grew a shimmering blur....