NEW HOPES.
The outlook from Washington during the first half of the year 1863 was
as discouraging as could well be borne. There had been no real advance
since the beginning of the war. Young men, loyal and enthusiastic, had
gone into the army by hundreds of thousands. Large numbers of these,
the flower of the northern youth, had been slain or wounded, and far
larger numbers had died of exposure in the swamps of Virginia. There
was still no progress. Washington had been defended, but there was
hardly a day when the Confederates were not within menacing distance of
the capital.
After the bloody disaster at Chancellorsville matters grew even worse.
Lee first defeated Hooker in battle and then he out-maneuvered him. He
cleverly eluded him, and before Hooker was aware of what was going on,
he was on his way, with eighty thousand men, towards Philadelphia and
had nearly a week's start of the Union army. The Confederates had
always thought that if they could carry the war into the northern
states they would fight to better advantage. Jeff Davis had threatened
the torch, but it is not likely that such subordinates as General Lee
shared his destructive and barbarous ambition. Still, Lee had a
magnificent army, and its presence in Pennsylvania was fitted to
inspire terror. It was also fitted to rouse the martial spirit of the
northern soldiers, as afterwards appeared.
As soon as the situation was known, Hooker started in hot pursuit.
After he had crossed the Potomac going north, he made certain requests
of the War Department which were refused, and he, angry at the refusal,
promptly sent in his resignation. Whether his requests were reasonable
is one question; whether it was patriotic in him to resign on the eve
of what was certain to be a great and decisive battle is another
question. But his resignation was accepted and Meade was appointed to
the command. He accepted the responsibility with a modest and soldierly
spirit and quit himself like a man. It is one of the rare cases in all
history in which an army has on the eve of battle made a change of
generals without disaster. That is surely highly to the credit of
General Meade. Lee's objective point was not known. He might capture
Harrisburg or Philadelphia, or both. He would probably desire to cut
off all communication with Washington. The only thing to do was to
overtake him and force a battle. He himself realized this and was fully
decided not to give battle but fight only on the defensive. Curiously
enough, Meade also decided not to attack, but to fight on the
defensive. Nevertheless, "the best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang
aft agley."
The result was Gettysburg, and the battle was not fought in accordance
with the plan of either commander. Uncontrollable events forced the
battle then and there. This battle-field was some distance to the
north, that is to say, in advance of Pipe Creek, the location selected
by Meade. But a conflict between a considerable force on each side
opened the famous battle on July 1st. A retreat, or withdrawal, to Pipe
Creek would have been disastrous. The first clash was between Heth's
division on the Confederate side, and Buford and Reynolds on the Union
side. Rarely have soldiers been more eager for the fray than were those
of the Union army at this time, especially the sons of Pennsylvania.
"Up and at 'em" was the universal feeling. It was hardly possible to
hold them back. The generals felt that it was not wise to hold them
back. Thus, as one division after another, on both sides, came up to
the help of their comrades, Gettysburg was accepted as the battle-
field. It was selected by neither commander, it was thrust upon them by
the fortunes of war, it was selected by the God of battles.
Almost the first victim on the Union side was that talented and brave
soldier, the general in command, Reynolds. His place was later in the
day,--that is, about four o'clock in the afternoon,--filled, and well
filled, by General Hancock.
The scope of this volume does not permit the description of this great
battle, and only some of the results may be given. The evening of July
1st closed in with the Union army holding out, but with the advantages,
such as they were, on the Confederate side. The second day the fight
was fiercely renewed and closed with no special advantage on either
side. On the third day it was still undecided until in the afternoon
when the climax came in Pickett's famous charge. This was the very
flower of the Confederate army, and the hazard of the charge was taken
by General Lee against the earnest advice of Longstreet. They were
repulsed and routed, and that decided the battle. Lee's army was turned
back, the attempted invasion was a failure, and it became manifest that
even Lee could not fight to advantage on northern soil.
Gettysburg was the greatest battle ever fought on the western
hemisphere, and it will easily rank as one of the great battles of
either hemisphere. The number of troops was about 80,000 on each side.
In the beginning the Confederates decidedly outnumbered the Federals,
because the latter were more scattered and it took time to bring them
up. In the latter part, the numbers were more nearly evenly divided,
though nearly one-fourth of Meade's men were not in the battle at any
time.
The total loss of killed, wounded, and missing, was on the Confederate
side over 31,000; on the Union side, about 23,000. The Confederates
lost seventeen generals, and the Federals twenty. When we consider this
loss of generals, bearing in mind that on the Union side they were
mostly those on whom Meade would naturally lean, it is hardly to be
wondered at that he so far lost his nerve as to be unwilling to pursue
the retreating enemy or hazard another battle. He could not realize
that the enemy had suffered much more than he had, and that, despite
his losses, he was in a condition to destroy that army. Not all that
Lincoln could say availed to persuade him to renew the attack upon the
retreating foe. When Lee reached the Potomac he found the river so
swollen as to be impassable. He could only wait for the waters to
subside or for time to improvise a pontoon bridge.
When, after waiting for ten days, Meade was aroused to make the attack,
he was just one day too late. Lee had got his army safely into
Virginia, and the war was not over. Lincoln could only say, "Providence
has twice [the other reference is to Antietam] delivered the Army of
Northern Virginia into our hands, and with such opportunities lost we
ought scarcely to hope for a third chance."
Lincoln wrote a letter to Meade. He also wrote him a second letter--or
was it the first?--which he did not send. We quote from this because it
really expressed the President's mind, and because the fact that he did
not send it only shows how reluctant he was to wound another's feelings
even when deserved.
"Again, my dear general, I do not believe you appreciate the magnitude
of the misfortune involved in Lee's escape. He was within your easy
grasp, and to have closed upon him would, in connection with our other
late successes, have ended the war. As it is, the war will be prolonged
indefinitely. If you could not safely attack Lee last Monday, how can
you possibly do so south of the river, when you can take with you very
few more than two-thirds of the force you then had in hand? It would be
unreasonable to expect, and I do not expect, that you can now effect
much. Your golden opportunity is gone, and I am distressed immeasurably
because of it. I beg you will not consider this a prosecution or
persecution of yourself. As you had learned that I was dissatisfied, I
thought it best to kindly tell you why."
While not overlooking Meade's omission, as this letter shows, he
appreciated the full value of the victory that checked Lee's advance,
and thanked the general heartily for that.
On the same afternoon of July 3d, almost at the very minute that
Pickett was making his charge, there was in progress, a thousand miles
to the west, an event of almost equal importance. Just outside the
fortifications of Vicksburg, under an oak tree, General Grant had met
the Confederate General, Pemberton, to negotiate terms of surrender.
The siege of Vicksburg was a great triumph, and its capitulation was of
scarcely less importance than the victory at Gettysburg. Vicksburg
commanded the Mississippi River and was supposed to be impregnable.
Surely few cities were situated more favorably to resist either attack
or siege. But Admiral Porter got his gunboats below the city, running
the batteries in the night, and Grant's investment was complete. The
Confederate cause was hopeless, their men nearly starved.
Grant's _plan_ was to make a final attack (if necessary) on the 6th or
7th day of July; but some time previous to this he had predicted that
the garrison would surrender on the fourth. General Pemberton tried his
utmost to avoid this very thing. When it became apparent that he could
not hold out much longer, he opened negotiations on the morning of July
3d for the specific purpose of forestalling the possibility of
surrender on the next day, Independence Day. In his report to the
Confederate government he claims to have chosen the 4th of July for
surrender, because he thought that he could secure better terms on that
day. But his pompous word has little weight, and all the evidence
points the other way. When on the morning of the 3d of July he opened
negotiations, he could not possibly have foreseen that it would take
twenty-four hours to arrange the terms.
It was, then, on the 4th of July that Grant occupied Vicksburg. The
account by Nicolay and Hay ends with the following beautiful
reflection: "It is not the least of the glories gained by the Army of
the Tennessee in this wonderful campaign that not a single cheer went
up from the Union ranks, not a single word [was spoken] that could
offend their beaten foes."
The loss to the Union army in killed, wounded, and missing, was about
9,000. The Confederate loss was nearly 50,000. To be sure many of the
paroled were compelled to reenlist according to the policy of the
Confederate government. But even so their parole was a good thing for
the cause of the Union. They were so thoroughly disaffected that their
release did, for the time, more harm than good to the southern cause.
Then it left Grant's army free.
The sequel to this victory came ten months later in Sherman's march to
the sea: not less thrilling in its conception and dramatic in its
execution than any battle or siege. Much fighting, skilful generalship,
long patience were required before this crowning act could be done, but
it came in due time and was one of the finishing blows to the
Confederacy, and it came as a logical result of the colossal victory at
Vicksburg.
There were some eddies and counter currents to the main drift of
affairs. About the time that Lee and his beaten army were making good
their escape, terrific riots broke out in New York City in resisting
the draft. As is usual in mob rule the very worst elements of human or
devilish depravity came to the top and were most in evidence. For
several days there was indeed a reign of terror. The fury of the mob
was directed particularly against the negroes. They were murdered.
Their orphan asylum was burnt. But the government quickly suppressed
the riot with a firm hand. The feeling was general throughout the
country that we were now on the way to a successful issue of the war.
The end was almost in sight. Gettysburg and Vicksburg, July 3 and 4,
1863, had inspired new hopes never to be quenched.
On the 15th day of July the President issued a thanksgiving
proclamation, designating August 6th as the day. Later in the year he
issued another thanksgiving proclamation, designating the last Thursday
in November. Previous to that time, certain states, and not a few
individuals, were in the habit of observing a thanksgiving day in
November. Indeed the custom, in a desultory way, dates back to Plymouth
Colony. But these irregular and uncertain observances never took on the
semblance of a national holiday. _That_ dates from the proclamation
issued October 3d, 1863. From that day to this, every President has
every year followed that example.
Lincoln was invited to attend a public meeting appointed for August
26th at his own city of Springfield, the object of which was to concert
measures for the maintenance of the Union. The pressure of public
duties did not permit him to leave Washington, but he wrote a
characteristic letter, a part of which refers to some of the events
touched on in this chapter. A few sentences of this letter are here
given:
"The Father of Waters again goes unvexed to the sea. Thanks to the
great Northwest for it; nor yet wholly to them. Three hundred miles tip
they met New England, Empire, Keystone, and Jersey, hewing their way
right and left. The sunny South, too, in more colors than one, also
lent a helping hand. On the spot, their part of the history was jotted
down in black and white. The job was a great national one, and let none
be slighted who bore an honorable part in it. And while those who have
cleared the great river may well be proud, even that is not all. It is
hard to say that anything has been more bravely and well done than at
Antietam, Murfreesboro, Gettysburg, and on many fields of less note.
Nor must Uncle Sam's web-feet be forgotten. At all the watery margins
they have been present, not only on the deep sea, the broad bay, and
the rapid river, but also up the narrow, muddy bayou, and wherever the
ground was a little damp, they have been and made their tracks. Thanks
to all. For the great republic--for the principle it lives by and keeps
alive--for man's vast future--thanks to all.
"Peace does not appear so distant as it did. I hope it will come soon
and come to stay; and so come as to be worth the keeping in all future
time. It will then have been proved that among freemen there can be no
successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet, and that they who take
such appeal are sure to lose their case and pay the cost. And there
will be some black men who can remember that with silent tongue and
clenched teeth and steady eye and well-poised bayonet they have helped
mankind on to this great consummation; while I fear there will be some
white ones unable to forget that with malignant heart and deceitful
speech they have striven to hinder it."
It is plain that after July 4, 1863, the final result was no longer
doubtful. So Lincoln felt it. There were indeed some who continued to
cry that the war was a failure, but in such cases the wish was only
father to the thought.