stantly, and I don't care two straws for the expense!" "Suppose we telegraph to my father, Sir?" suggested the judicious Pedgift. "It's the quickest way of expressing your feelings, and the cheapest." "His plan appears to be connected in some way, Sir, with his opinion of Miss Gwilt." "I wonder what he thinks of her?" said Allan. "I shouldn't be surprised, Mr. Armadale," returned Pedgift Junior, "if his opinion staggers you a little when you come to hear it. My father has had a large legal experience of the shady side of the sex, and he learned his pro "So it is," said Allan. "Thank you for reminding me of it. Telegraph to them! Tell your father to give every man in Thorpe-Am-fession at the Old Bailey." brose the lie direct, in my name. Put it in Allan made no further inquiries. He seemed capital letters, Pedgift-put it in capital let-to shrink from pursuing the subject, after havters!" ing started it himself. "Let's be doing something to kill the time," he said. "Let's pack up and pay the bill.” Pedgift smiled and shook his head. If he was acquainted with no other variety of human | nature, he thoroughly knew the variety that exists in country towns. They packed up and paid the bill. The hour came, and the train left for Norfolk at last. While the travelers were on their way back a somewhat longer telegraphic message than Allan's was flashing its way past them along the wires in the reverse direction-from ThorpeAmbrose to London. The message was in cipher, and, the signs being interpreted, it ran thus: "It won't have the least effect on them, Mr. Armadale," he remarked, quietly. "They'll only go on lying harder than ever. If you want to upset the whole town, one line will do it. With five shillings' worth of human labor and electric fluid, Sir (I dabble a little in science after business hours), we'll explode a bombshell in Thorpe-Ambrose!" He produced the bomb- "From Lydia Gwilt to Maria Oldershawshell on a slip of paper as he spoke: "A. Ped-Good news! He is coming back. I mean to gift, Junior, to A. Pedgift, Senior.--Spread it have an interview with him. Every thing looks all over the place that Mr. Armadale is coming well. Now I have left the cottage I have no down by the next train." women's prying eyes to dread, and I can come "More words," suggested Allan, looking over and go as I please. Mr. Midwinter is luckily his shoulder. "Make it stronger." "Leave my father to make it stronger, Sir," returned the judicious Pedgift. 'My father is on the spot, and his command of language is something quite extraordinary." He rang the bell, and dispatched the telegram. Now that something had been done Allan subsided gradually into a state of composure. He looked back again at Mr. Pedgift's letter, and then handed it to Mr. Pedgift's son. "Can you guess your father's plan for setting me right in the neighborhood?" he asked. Pedgift the younger shook his wise head. out of the way. I don't despair of becoming Mrs. Armadale yet. Whatever happens, depend on my keeping away from London until I am certain of not taking any spies after me to your place. I am in no hurry to leave Thorpe-Ambrose. I mean to be even with Miss Milroy first." Shortly after that message was received in London Allan was back again in his own house. It was evening-Pedgift Junior had just left him, and Pedgift Senior was expected to call on business in half an hour's time. THE FIGHTING JOE HOOKER. JOSEPH HOOKER. THE name and fame of General Joe Hooker are, or ought to be, dear to every American, for he is eminently a national man. Born in Massachusetts he has resided in every section of the country, and is cosmopolitan in habits and ideas. Nature never made him for one section of the land. He has fought over every part of the land, from Maryland to Mexico, from the Potomac to beyond the Rio Grande, and has come, a private citizen from the most westerly military district of California, to command as Brigadier-General of the regular army the most easterly department of the reunited country. Every Californian, if not every American, is proud of Joe Hooker, for he is a representative man of that peculiar race of pioneers drawn from every State of the Union and nationality of the globe. Hooker is naturally a fighting man, a belligerent by nature, as much as Philip Sheridan, and he insists on forcing every dispute to the arbitrement of arms. Actual blows satisfy him best, and from the very nature of his mental organization "war to the knife" is an admitted motto with him. A curious accident gave Hooker the title of "Fighting Joe;" but few of the multitude who read of him under that appellation, and none of those who, in the heat of political and partisan discussion, endeavored to ridicule both person and expression, suspected how accurately the title described the character of the man. A man born with his disposition would naturally seek the army. Hooker entered West Point and studied his way through with a zeal and industry which must have placed him higher than twenty-eight in a class of fifty graduates had he not, like Sheridan, suffered for his bellig The peace which ensued in 1847 found Hooker with the natural belligerency of his quick temper fully developed, his ambition fired, and his restless activity of mind and body increased. He had no disposition to return to the monotony of the Adjutant-General's office, or to the quiet of garrison duty, that even a captain of artillery, which he had become, would have to endure. The unadventurous career which a professional life in a settled country among civil erency in the estimation of the staid and steady | clearer conception of the desperate purposes and professors of that institute. He, however, got characters of the traitors than did Joe Hooker. through the course creditably in 1837, and managed, being still young, and the belligerency of his nature not fully developed, to exist in the quiet position of Adjutant of West Point. Afterward he also managed to endure the monotony of the Adjutant-General's department for five years, until the war with Mexico broke out, when he sought adventure, promotion, and fame in the active service. The Mexican war was the great opportunity of many young lives, the practical schooling of nearly all who distin-ized people promised was also without charms guished themselves during the late war for the Union. To Hooker, young, ambitious, and belligerent, the opportunity was highly welcomed. The declaration of war was hailed by him with an intense joy that would have horrified his Puritan fathers if they could have been cognizant of it. to his restless mind. He remained in the army only as long as the prospect of service in Mexico and on the Pacific coast had any promise of active service; but soon finding that the peace which followed the Mexican war was likely to be profound and undisturbed, he resigned his commission, and plunged into the excitement of picHooker's career in Mexico was not remem- neer life in the newly-discovered gold regions of bered when the rebellion began or he would have California. He purchased a ranche across the earlier stood high in the confidence of the Gov- bay from the City of San Francisco, and for a ernment, for it was among the most brilliant of short time became interested in the to him novel the many successes attained by the many very duties of a farmer. It is natural to suppose able young men engaged in that war. To have that this monotonous existence soon became risen under the old and very faulty organization painfully dull to a person of Hooker's restless of the army, in a short war, in which there were disposition. The ranche was neglected for other few casualties, from a Lieutenant to be brevetted objects affording more excitement and advenLieutenant-Colonel of the regular army was no ture; but by the year 1860 this existence had small achievement. Hooker was successively lost many of its charms, and Hooker again found brevetted Captain, Major, and Lieutenant-Col- the "horrors of peace" upon him. Peace, it onel, "for gallant and meritorious conduct" in must be known, has its horrors for some men, the several conflicts at Monterey, in the affair just as the calm has its terrors for the scamen. at the National Bridge, and in the assault of The consequence was that Hooker fell into some Chapultepec. He was detailed, if I remember of the bad habits which follow idleness. He was rightly, early in the campaign as Adjutant-Gen- a "fish out of water," with nothing of an agree eral on the staff of General Gideon Pillow, and able character to do, and he restlessly ran into though Gabriel Rains and Ripley were associ- some excesses, which his California friends alated with him on duty it was generally under-lude to as the process of "going to the dogs." stood and felt that the young chief of staff fur- His business-character suffered, but not his sonished all the brains and most of the energy and cial standing. industry to be found at the head-quarters of the went to ruin. division. Pillow, Rains, and Ripley became impaired, when, somewhat notorious during the late rebellion as lion broke out. officers of the rebel army. During the war with Mexico sectional feeling ran high on the subject of supporting the Administration in the prose-ing a commission, and gladly launched again cution of an offensive war, and very often young Hooker was compelled to hear tirades uttered by these Southern officers against his native State which gave a lukewarm support to the army, but he never allowed them to pass unreproved or unresented. A less positive character than Hooker might have been influenced in his State allegiance by such surroundings in a camp composed almost exclusively of Southern soldiers and at a head-quarters where prevailed the most intensely bitter sectionalism which then disgraced the army. The discussions which grew out of the objections which the young chief of staff took to the peculiar views of the embryo rebels only served to confirm him in his adherence to and love of the Government; and none of the old army officers entered into the war for the Union with more alacrity or with a His ranche was neglected and His health became somewhat fortunately for him, the rebelHe hastened to Washington to offer his services to the President. He succeeded after much difficulty in obtain into active service. He became a changed man. He had abandoned his bad habits with the ease and readiness of a man of resolute and determined mind, and now, engaged in that profession which had every charm for him, he began in carnest the prosecution of the true aim of his life. He believed in fate and destiny; believed that strong minds and brave hearts control their own fortunes; and with firm confidence in himself announced to his friends who congratulated him on his appointment that one day he would be at the head of the army, of which he was then only a brigade commander. If Hooker's military career be examined critically it will be found that his success as a leader has been due to the impetuosity, boldness, and energy with which he fights. His presence on a battle-field may be said to be calculated to supply all deficiencies in the discipline of the troops. His presence and demeanor inspired his troops with the qualities of courage and daring which distinguished himself, and restored morale to broken columns with the same success as that which ever marked the presence of Philip Sheridan. As commander of the Army of the Potomac General Hooker never met with brilliant success. He assumed command at a time when the bitter jealousies which disgraced that army most impaired its energies and retarded its action. He had little of the love or admiration, and consequently little of the genuine support, of his subordinate commanders; while he was, by reason of his promotion, further removed from immediate direction of his troops, and the inspiration of his presence was lost on those who had learned to believe in him. No one will attempt to deny that Hooker held such a control over his men, and that his presence among his troops in battle had much to do with their effectiveness. His was what has been called "a powerful presence." He was destined for a leader, not a director of troops, and hence his greatest success has been as the leader of fractional corps of great armies. His battles on the Peninsula; his vigorous pursuit of the rebels from Yorktown; his conduct throughout the "battle-week on the Chickahominy;" and his engagement at Malvern Hill, were the deeds which are familiarly known throughout the country. His success as the commander of a corps in the West will eventually become not less familiar to the public; and his achievements at Lookout Mountain, Resacca, and before Atlanta will be the basis for the establishment of his true character as a military man. The "battle above the clouds," as the assault of Lookout Mountain has been called, was an episode of the operations of Chattanooga, as conducted by Grant; but it was planned in all its details and executed in all its completeness by Hooker. The original intention of Grant was to attack Lookout with a force only sufficiently large to keep busy the rebel force occupying it while the main attack was made elsewhere. The destruction of a pontoon bridge which connected Hooker's camp with that of Sherman and Thomas forced Grant to leave Hooker a much larger force than he had at first intended; and he then gave Hooker permission to assault the mountain with all his force. This order was received about noon on the 25th of November, but before nightfall he had planned and had executed an attack which was as brilliant as daring. Two months' observation of the mountain from his camp in the valley had given him a full knowledge of all its outlines, its roads, etc., and it is easy to believe that the plan which Hooker decided upon had had for some time a place in his mind. It was as unique in conception as it proved successful in execution. A small force under Osterhaus was ordered to make a feint upon the enemy's riflepits at the point (or "nose," as Rosecrans calls it) of the mountain, while with Geary and IreVOL. XXXI.-No. 185.-UU land and Crafts and Whitaker he moved up the valley until in rear of the enemy's position, ascended the side of the range until the head of his column reached the palisades which crown the mountain, and, forming his line of battle at right angles with the palisades, marched forward, taking the rebel works in flank and rear, and secured about thirteen hundred prisoners. The enemy fled around the "nose" of the mountain, closely pursued to a position on the opposite side, where Hooker again attacked. After one or two desperate efforts the rebel workwere carried, but it was at such a late hour (midnight) that it was impossible to dislodge them from a position controlling a mountainroad, by which they evacuated during the night. The mountain thus assaulted is fourteen hundred feet above the Tennessee River, and was held by a force of at least six thousand, strongly fortified. He must be a regular mountaineer who can unopposed make the ascent of the mountain without halting several times to rest; and the story of the assault seems incredible to one standing on the summit, where the rebels were posted, and looking at the rough ascent over which Hooker charged. Only a general in whom the disposition to fight was largely developed could have conceived such a project, and only troops inspired by the presence of one whom they knew to be a brave and daring leader could have executed the ambitious plan. The well-known effect of Sheridan's presence at Cedar Creek was not more remarkable in restoring the morale of his army than was that of Hooker at Peach-Tree Creek, Georgia, in retrieving the disaster which was there threatened. The Army of the Cumberland was surprised at that point on 20th July while on the march, and being vigorously attacked was in great danger of being routed. It was a well-known fact that the presence of Hooker every where along the line of the threatened and almost defeated army kept the men in line, at the work, and finally saved the day. Were it within the purpose of this sketch to do so, no better illustration of the fighting General could be given than a detailed account of this battle, in which Hooker was the central-only figure. The country is as much indebted to him personally for the victory as to Sheridan for Cedar Creek, Rousseau for Perryville, or Thomas for Chickamauga. Hooker is "his own worst enemy"-not in a common and vulgar acceptance of that term, now universally applied to those who indulge their appetite at the expense of the brain. His weakness is not of the vulgar order, but has been the disease of great minds immemorial. His great crime against weak humanity lies in the fact that he was born a critic. Iago was not more positively.critical than Hooker, though he is not necessarily "nothing if not critical." He can not resist the temptation to criticise; and being unable to appreciate that questionable code of morality in which policy dictates that the truth is not always to be spoken, he has made himself life-long enemies. He can attribute with perfect justice every failure of his life to that one "weakness of the noble mind." It accelerated his retirement from the service in 1853. It originated the difficulties which nearly prevented his re-entry into the service in 1861. It retarded his promotion: lay at the root of all his difficulties as commander of the Army of the Potomac, made enemies of his subordinates, and defeated his every plan, and at last forced him to resign command of the army. It nearly defeated his every effort to regain a command. It cost him many difficulties in the event, and finally forced him to retire from active command under Sherman just as the war was being wound up with the grand crescendo movement of Grant. The candor of Hooker's criticisms make them' highly palatable. One naturally admires the decision which marks them; and though his reasonings may not be correct, nor his deductions just, we must enjoy the perfect independence with which they are uttered. His criticism on the battle of Bull Run first brought him to the consideration of Mr. Lincoln, who read characters at a glance. His famous criticism on M‘Clellan, on which he did not hesitate (he never hesitates either to censure or to fight) to attribute the failure of the peninsula campaign to "the want of generalship on the part of our commander," gave him more publicity than his battles. The late President used to remark that he had never had occasion to change the favorable opinion which he formed of Hooker on hearing his criticism on the battle of Bull Run. The criticism on M'Clellan indicates the character of the critic as that of a quick, resolute, decided man, ready to take all responsibilities. The character has been fully established by Hooker since he uttered that remarkably free criticism. His retirement from the army was accelerated, and his subsequent return to the service was retarded, as has been stated, by this habit of freely criticising the operations of the army. The history of his troubles is as follows: Immediately after the close of the war with Mexico Hooker was called upon to testify before a Court of Investigation, which had the settlement of the difficulties between Pillow and Worth growing out of the assault on Chapultepec. In the course of his examination he very freely criticised some of the movements of General Scott; and with that confidence in his own judgment, which is a marked characteristic of Hooker, and which, strange to say, betrays nothing egotistical about it, told how he should have accomplished the same ends at less loss by other movements. Scott, with good reason, was mortally offended; and when Hooker's resignation reached his hands in the routine channel of business, it was not delayed for lack of approval, but was forwarded with a recommendation that it be accepted. When he wished at the beginning of the rebellion to return to the army the same officer stood in the way; and being supreme in authority, under the Presi dent, he permitted Hooker to beg for admission for some months, keeping him dancing unavailingly at the doors of the war-office. Hooker lingered for several months, only leaving the city to witness the Bull Run battle; but at last wearied out and seeing no hope of attaining his ends he determined to return to California. Before leaving, however, he called upon the President, whom he had never met, to pay his parting respects, and was introduced as "Captain Hooker." The President received him in his usual kind style, but was about to dismiss him, as time required that he should dismiss many, with a few civil phrases, when he was surprised by Hooker's determined tones into istening to his history. "Mr. President," he began, "my friend makes a mistake. I am not 'Captain Hooker,' but was once Lieutenant-Colonel Hooker of the regular army. I was lately a farmer in California, but since the rebellion broke out I have been here trying to get into the service, but find I am not wanted. I am about to return home, but before going I was anxious to pay my respects to you, and to express my wishes for your personal welfare and success in quelling this rebellion. And I want to say one word more," he added, abruptly: "I was at Bull Run the other day, Mr. President, and it is no vanity in me to say I am a damned sight better general than you had on that field." The President, who was Hooker's firmest friend afterward, used to take great pleasure in telling the circumstance, and the effect of the speech upon him. The boast was made in the tone not of a braggart but of a firm, confident man who looked him straight in the eye, and, when the President said afterward, appeared at that moment as if fully competent to make good his words. He was satisfied that he would at least try, and, impressed with his resolute air, he rose from his chair and requested him to defer his return to California. Hooker remained, and among the numerous changes which followed the battle of Bull Run was the transformation of "Mr. Hooker" into "BrigadierGeneral Hooker." Hooker sometimes indulged in sharp criticisms even in his official reports. During the battle in Lookout Valley Hooker sent a portion of his left wing, under Shurtz, to the assistance of Geary; but General Shurtz became mixed as to his topography, and did not reach the battlefield until too late. He reported, in extenuation of his failure, that he had found a wide swamp in his path, and had been compelled to go around it. Hooker, in his official report, after stating General Shurtz's excuse, adds very quietly that he had thoroughly examined the country between General Shurtz's camp and the battle-field, and that it was evident that the General had been mistaken as to the existence of the swamp. When Burnside was in command of the Army of the Potomac he executed an order, which was afterward suppressed by the President, dismiss |