the next presidency, and they were on the lookout for the right military alliance, when they came into communication with Hooker's friends, and received their assurances that, if it should be his good fortune to bring the war to a successful close, nothing could possibly induce him to accept other than military honors in recognition of his services. General Hooker thereupon became the candidate of Mr. Chase's friends. Hooker probably knew of these dickerings. Certainly Stanton did, through a friend in Chase's own circle. . . . At this critical moment the needed impulse in the direction of Hooker was supplied by a person of commanding influence in the counsels of the administration, and Mr. Lincoln directed the appointment to be made. Who this person was, whose influence overbore the caution of Lincoln and the determined opposition of Stanton, and caused Lincoln to make an appointment which he knew to be dictated by the men who were opposing his own reelection, is a matter of conjecture. Certainly it was not a selfish action of Lincoln's part that made Hooker commander of the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln's letter to Hooker, appointing him commander-inchief of the Army of the Potomac is one of the classics of the war. Was ever another such letter written by a president to a man appointed to an important position? It is a marvel of kindness mingled with blunt and stern reproof:* EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON, D. C., Major General Hooker.-General: the head of the army of the Potomac. Of course I have done this upon what appear to me to be sufficient reasons; and yet I think it best for you to know that there are some things in regard to which I am not satisfied with you. I believe you to be a brave and skillful soldier, which of course I like. I also believe that you do not mix politics with your profession, in which you are right. You have confidence in yourself, which is a valuable if not indispensable quality. You are ambitious, which, within reasonable bounds, does good rather than harm; but I think that, *The original of this letter was sold at auction in the autumn of 1924. The Library of Congress sent in a bid of $1,000; the letter sold for $10,000. during General Burnside's command of the army, you have taken counsel of your ambition, and thwarted him as much as you could, in which you did a great wrong to the country, and to a most meritorious and honorable brother officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of your recently saying that both the army and the government needed a dictator. Of course, it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I have given you the command. Only those generals who gain success can be dictators. What I now ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dictatorship. The government will support you to the utmost of its ability, which is neither more nor less than it has done and will do for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to infuse into the army, of criticizing their commander and withholding confidence from him, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you as far as I can to put it down. Neither you nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, could get any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails in it. And now, beware of rashness. Beware of rashness, but, with energy and sleepless vigilance, go forward and give us victories. Yours, very truly, A. Lincoln. Hooker spent three months in organizing his army, and then advanced toward Richmond. He met Lee at a small place called Chancellorsville, and a terrific battle was fought on May 2 and 3, 1863, with a loss of about 17,000 men. In this battle Stonewall Jackson was killed by the mistaken fire of his own men. Hooker was so severely criticized for this defeat and so annoyed by the orders which he received from Washington, that he asked to be relieved of his command. Hooker was succeeded by General George B. Meade, of Pennsylvania. Meade was a graduate of West Point, and had served in the Mexican War. He came to the command of the Army of the Potomac just in time to have the honor of winning the battle of Gettysburg. That victory kept this cautious officer in his position as commander of the Army of the Potomac until the end of the war; but his failure to follow Lee was a bitter disappointment to Lincoln, who could not relieve himself from the im pression that Meade had been willing that Lee should escape rather than that Meade then should risk a second battle. Meade's fame is secure in the winning of one superb victory, but he did not justify the faith that would have been involved in delegating to him any larger responsibility. The man whom the nation needed and whom Lincoln was seeking, was even then merging into view. The very day on which Meade won his victory at Gettysburg, and in the very winning of it displayed a lack of those qualities which made it sure that he could win another one, another general came into public notice, and from that time on until the end of the war was seldom out of the public mind, though seldom visible to public view. It is not necessary at this time to name him. In time the nation found the man who could lead its armies to victory. CHAPTER XIV GETTYSBURG: WHAT THEY DID THERE AN INCIDENT Occurred in the autumn of 1863 which seemed at the time to be of little importance, but which has become one of the outstanding events of Lincoln's public career. The battle of Gettysburg was the one important battle fought on northern soil. The field lay within a state wholly outside of the borders of Confederacy. The system of national cemeteries controlled by the Federal Government had not as yet been devised. A portion of the battle-field at Gettysburg was purchased and held by a commission in which the several northern states that had participated in the battle were represented. This cemetery was set apart with solemn services on November 19, 1863. There President Lincoln delivered an address whose words have become immortal. The importance of the battle, and the world's interest in the address, require some description of the conflict. Before we consider what Lincoln said there, let us visit Gettysburg and remind ourselves as we travel over the field, what they did there. One's first surprise on reaching Gettysburg is the discovery that it is not a hill town. The visitor has at least two reasons to expect to find it in the heart of the mountains. One is that the battle is described in terms of elevations-Seminary Ridge, Cemetery Ridge, Culp's Hill, Round Top and Little Round Top. The other is that he travels through hills to reach Gettysburg. When the train leaves Highfield, the junction point for the main line of the Western Maryland Railroad, he knows that he is on top of the mountain. The train moves slowly around horseshoe curves among cement-factories and saw-mills. After a few miles, the farms, which have been discovered in the bottoms of the valleys, appear more nearly on the level of the track. Before the train reaches Gettysburg, the hills have been left behind and above. The distance is only twenty-two miles from Highfield to Gettysburg, but the last seven or eight miles find the train upon the floor of a wide valley. The hills have stepped back. The land rises and falls in graceful undulations. The railroad plows through the famous ridges described in the battle, and the cuts are only ten to twenty feet deep. Cemetery Ridge and Seminary Ridge are native to the locality. Culp's Hill, the Round Tops and the Devil's Den are intruders: they are formed of trap rock, thrust up through the floor of the valley. These are real hills, but they are not very high. The public square at Gettysburg-the people of the town call it "the Diamond,"-is only four hundred and twelve feet above sea level. Seminary Ridge is a gentle rise of ground, about forty feet higher, and Cemetery Ridge at its highest point is some fifty feet higher than the Seminary Ridge. Culp's Hill is five hundred eight feet above sea level; Little Round Top is five hundred forty-eight, and Round Top-the highest elevation in the battle-is six hundred sixty-four feet. The highest land that figured in the battle is only two hundred and fifty feet above the plain. The hill up which Pickett's Brigade charged is a very gentle slope. Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain are real mountains, but the fighting at Gettysburg had to do with very modest, though very important, elevations. It is not easy to understand a battle, and still less easy to describe it so that others can understand the description. But it is important to gain an intelligent idea of this one. In the summer of 1863, General Lee undertook an invasion of the North. It was a desperate and mistaken undertaking. But it did not seem so at the time. There appeared to be opportunity for a bold, successful strike. The war had been going on for two years, and in the main the advantage in the east was on the side of the South. In the West it was not so. Vicksburg was |