As the Confederates rolled on, driving the fiercely fighting men in blue before them, Lee himself rode forward to encourage his men and then it happened—the thing for which the great have fought, and longed, and dreamed since time dawned—the spontaneous tribute of the brave to a trusted leader.
His victorious troops went wild at the sight of him. Above the crash and roar of battle rose the shouts of the Southerners:
"Hurrah for Lee!"
"Lee!"
"Lee!"
From lip to lip the thrilling name leaped until the wounded and the dying turned their eyes to see and raised their feeble voices:
"Lee!—Lee!—Lee!"
It was at this moment that he received the note from Jackson announcing that he was badly wounded. With the shouts of his men ringing in his ears, he drew his pencil and wrote across the pommel of his saddle:
"General: I have just received your note informing me that you are wounded. I cannot express my regret at the occurrence. Could I have directed events, I should have chosen, for the good of the country, to be disabled in your stead.
"I congratulate you upon the victory which is due to your skill and energy.