Dick did not know it then nor did the general himself, but 'Pap' Thomas
could boast of far more than having held his ground. His long and
stubborn resistance, his skill in moving his troops from point to point
at the right time, his coolness and judgment in weighing and measuring
everything right, in all the vast turmoil, confusion and uncertainty of
a great battle, had saved the Northern army from destruction.

Now, as the Winchester men lay gasping behind the fresh regiment, Thomas,
who continually passed along the line of battle, came among them.
He was a soldier's soldier, a soldier's general, and he spoke encouraging
words, most of which they could not hear amid the roar of the battle,
but his calm face told their import, and fresh courage came into their
hearts.

The news spread gradually that Thomas only was holding fast, but now his
men instead of being discouraged were filled with pride. It was they
and they alone whom the Southerners could not overwhelm, and Thomas and
his generals inspired them with the belief that they were invincible.
Charge after charge broke against them. More ground was yielded, but at
the same immense price, and the corps, sullen, indomitable, maintained
its order, always presenting a front to the foe, blazing with death.

Thomas stood all day, while the Southern masses, flushed by victory
everywhere else, pressed harder. Terrible reports of defeat and
destruction came to him continually, but he did not flinch. He turned
the same calm face to everything, and said to the generals that whatever
happened they would keep their own front unbroken.

The day closed with the men of Thomas still grim and defiant. The dead
lay in heaps along their front, but as the darkness settled down on the