THE SUSPENSE.--Seldom, in the eventful course of human affairs, have
great nations, with their rich and populous cities, been placed in the
attitude of danger and of solemn suspense in which the American people
find themselves at this momentous crisis. Even while we write this
sentence, a great battle is raging in one of the fairest valleys of
Pennsylvania, and although the actual struggle is destined to be
decisive in its bearing, there is no possibility of knowing how the
strife goes from hour to hour. Issues of immense and incalculable
importance are involved in the immediate result: the cities of
Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, to say nothing of the existence
of the nation itself, so gravely imperilled, on the one hand; and
Richmond, with all the desperate hopes and daring purposes of the
rebellion, on the other, are the mighty stakes played for in the bloody
game now going on upon the chessboard in the vicinity of Gettysburg.
With the overthrow of Lee's army, and its effectual cut off from escape,
not only will come the speedy fall of Richmond, but the rebellion itself
will be virtually at an end; for it will never be able to recover from
the blow. On the other hand, with the complete discomfiture of our own
army, we should be temporarily at the mercy of the enemy, as we do not
seem to have contemplated the contingency of defeat, and have made
little preparation for it. The victorious Lee would drive our shattered
forces into Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, and would follow
close upon their heels with his irresistible columns. Dark would be the
day for our country and for human liberty, and terrible would be the
struggle made necessary afterward to enable us to recover from so great
a disaster. Assuredly we would be able to recover; and in this fact lies
our great superiority over the adversary, who stakes his all upon the
issue of this desperate and reckless invasion into the heart of the
loyal States. But, with all our confidence in the justice and ultimate
triumph of our cause, how great is the patriotic anxiety with which our
hearts are burdened, and how intensely earnest are the prayers we offer
to the Most High for the success of our noble army in the pending
battle! In our excited imaginations, we see only the impenetrable cloud
of smoke which envelops the bloody field; we hear the loud thunders of
the murderous artillery, the rattle of musketry, the groans of the
wounded and dying, and the shouts of infuriated columns as they rush
into the jaws of death, and are rolled away on the fiery billows of the
mighty conflict. We feel all the frenzy of the deadly strife as if we
were in the midst of it; and yet, though we strain our inward vision to
the utmost, no ray of light comes from the terrible scene to inform us
how the scale of victory inclines. We only know that thousands of our
brothers lie on the battle field dead or dying, wounded and suffering,
and we anticipate the melancholy wail which their wives and children,
their brothers and friends will utter on the morrow. Shall it be mingled
with shouts of victory, and softened by the sweet consolation that the
death and suffering of so many noble victims have been repaid by the
safety of our country, and the reestablishment of liberty under the
glorious Constitution of our fathers?
* * * * *
THE RELIEF.--Time rolls on. In spite of anxieties and torturing
uncertainties; over broken hearts and ruined hopes; over fields of
slaughter, where the harvest of death has been garnered in abundance so
great as to sicken the soul of man; over pillaged cities and countries
laid waste; over all the works of man, good and bad, time rolls on,
careless alike of the joys and sorrows, the victories and defeats of
men and nations. And, with the steady and remorseless march of time,
events, however bound up with the mightiest interests of mankind,
necessarily hasten to their consummation. The web of fate is
unravelled--the tide of battle flows in its irrevocable course, and
having stranded the hopes of the defeated power, there is no ebb, no
reflux, by which the disaster may be undone, and the ruined cause
restored again to prosperity and hope.
Gradually the cloud breaks away from the battle field, and the various
incidents and accomplished results of the contest become known. The
silent, faithful wires, stretching away to the intervening cities and
villages, are burdened with their mysterious messages, to be delivered
from time to time to the expectant crowds who await them with eager
impatience. With the dawn of Independence Day, some gleams of light come
up from the scene of conflict, and some encouraging words are heard from
high quarters. In their patriotic assemblages, the people are full of
hope and confidence, though still not without intense anxiety with
regard to the final result, yet imperfectly made known. Every additional
message, with which the wires tremble, makes the hopeful impression
stronger and stronger; and, upon the whole, the 4th of July, 1863, is a
day of rejoicing to all those who love their country and desire to see
it restored to its pristine vigor and glory. Scarcely a doubt remains
that the daring traitors have been defeated and the country saved;
though it is yet uncertain whether the victory will be complete and the
army of the enemy scattered and destroyed or captured.
If by possibility Lee should again escape and make his way back to the
exhausted fields of Eastern Virginia, there may still be some hard work
for our armies in order to put a final end to the great rebellion. But
the failure of this last desperate enterprise gives the deathblow to the
wicked and ambitious power of the usurpers at the head of the pretended
confederacy. They may obstruct our march and harass our armies, but they
can no longer hope to place any permanent obstacle in the way of our
progress toward the restoration of the Union. The tide has turned at
last. We have seen the darkest day of our mortal struggle, and the hour
of deliverance is at hand.