Their generals and those of the supporting divisions rode on their flanks or at their head.

Besides Pickett, Garnett, Wilcox, Armistead, Pettigrew and Trimble were there.
The Southern cannon were firing over the heads of the marching Virginians, covering them with their fire, but the light breeze strengthened a little, driving away the smoke.

There they were in the valley, visible to both friend and foe, marching on that long mile from hill to hill.

The Southern army shouted again, and it is true that, at this moment, the Union ranks burst into a like cry of admiration, at the sight of a foe so daring, men of their own race and country.
But Harry never took his eyes for a moment from Pickett's column.
He was using his glasses, and everything stood out strong and clear.
The sun was at the zenith, pouring down rays so fiery that the whole field blazed in light.

The nature of the ground caused the Virginians to turn a little, in order to keep the line for the Union center, but they preserved their even ranks, and marched on at a steady pace.
Harry began to shout again, but in an instant or two he saw a line of fire pass along the Union front.