In the Eastern field of operations in the American Civil War, McClellan’s organization of the Army of the Potomac had given him a well-disciplined force, with which he was facing General Joseph Johnston at the opening of 1862. But the Peninsular Campaign which McClellan entered upon early in the year, with the bloody fighting at Fair Oaks in May, and the Seven Days’ Battles in May and June, resulted in the withdrawal of the Northern forces. There followed Pope’s defeat near Bull Run. The forward movement was a failure. The Northern forces, only four miles from Richmond in June, were practically defending Washington in September. The desperate battle of Antietam checked Lee’s movement into Maryland, but was not decisive. Burnside’s costly defeat at Fredericksburg in December closed a gloomy year in the East, which to many seemed to show that the South could more than hold its own. The new year brought a renewal of disaster to the Northern arms in Hooker’s defeat in the hard-fought battle of Chancellorsville. But the tide was to be turned by one of the crucial events of military history, which was close at hand.—Editor.

The fall of Vicksburg, though a terrible blow to the South, was not a sudden one: to all intelligent eyes it had for some weeks been impending; but that Lee could be defeated seemed a thing impossible. Because so long unconquered, it had come to be accepted that he was unconquerable.

Hooker soon recovered from the daze into which he had been thrown at Chancellorsville. His confidence in himself was not broken by his misfortune. Instead of, like Burnside, manfully shouldering most of the responsibility of his failure, Hooker vehemently accused his lieutenants of misconduct, and faced the new situation with as much resolution as if he had the prestige of a victor. The Army of the Potomac, never down in heart except for a moment, plucked up courage forthwith and girded itself for new encounters.

The South, meanwhile, was still rejoicing over Chancellorsville, for the cloud on the southwestern horizon was at first no bigger than a man’s hand. Longstreet joined Lee from Suffolk with two divisions, swelling the Army of Northern Virginia to eighty thousand or more. Never before had it been so numerous, so well appointed, or in such good heart. The numerical advantage which the Federals had heretofore enjoyed was at this time nearly gone, because thousands of enlistments expired which could not immediately be made good; volunteering had nearly ceased, and the new schemes for recruiting were not yet effective.

Lee took the initiative early in June,243 full of the sense of the advantage to be gained from a campaign on Northern soil. War-worn Virginia was to receive a respite; Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, as well as Washington, might be terrorized, and perhaps captured. If only the good-fortune so far enjoyed would continue, the Union’s military strength might be completely wrecked, hesitating Europe won over to recognition, and the cause of the South made secure.

With these fine and not at all extravagant anticipations, Lee put in motion his three great corps under the lieutenant-generals Ewell (Jackson’s successor), Longstreet, and A.P. Hill. Longstreet was ill at ease. Vicksburg, now in great danger, he thought could only be saved by reinforcing Bragg and advancing rapidly on Cincinnati, in which case Grant might be drawn north. Notwithstanding Longstreet’s urgency, Lee persisted.244 Ewell, pouring suddenly down the Shenandoah Valley, “gobbled up,” as Lincoln put it, Milroy and his whole command of some four thousand, June 13th, and presently from Maryland invaded Pennsylvania. Longstreet was close behind: while the head of Ewell’s column had been nearing the Potomac, A.P. Hill, who had remained at Fredericksburg to watch Hooker, as yet inactive on Stafford Heights, broke camp and followed northwestward. Ewell seized Chambersburg a few days later, then appeared at Carlisle, and even shook Harrisburg with his cannon. The North had, indeed, cause for alarm; the farmers of the invaded region were in a panic. “Emergency men,” enlisted for three months, gathered from New York, Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania to the threatened points. The great coast cities were face to face with a menace hitherto unexperienced. Were they really about to be sacked? What was to be done?

There was no indecision either at Washington or in the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln’s horse-sense, sometimes tripping, but oftener adequate to deal with unparalleled burdens, homely, terse, and unerring in its expression, was at its best in these days. To Hooker, meditating movements along and across the Rappahannock, he wrote: “I would not take any risk of being entangled upon the river like an ox jumped half over a fence, and liable to be torn by dogs in front and rear without a fair chance to gore one way or kick the other.”245 And again: “If the head of Lee’s army is at Martinsburg (near the Potomac), and the tail of it on the plank-road between Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, the animal must be very slim somewhere. Could you not break him?” “Fret him and fret him,” was the President’s injunction to Hooker, regarding the advance of Lee. Well-poised, good-humored, constant, Lincoln gave no counsel to Hooker in these days that was not sound. Indeed, at this time, Hooker needed little admonition. Alert and resourceful, he no sooner detected the movement of Lee than he suggested an advance upon Richmond, which was thus left unguarded. Lee, of course, had contemplated the possibility of such a move, and, with a nod toward Washington, had joked about “swapping queens.” The idea, which Hooker did not press, being disapproved, Hooker, turning toward Lee, proceeded to “fret him and fret him,” his conduct comparing well with his brilliant management at the opening of the campaign of Chancellorsville. The cavalry, greatly improved by him, under Pleasonton, with divisions commanded by Buford, Duffie, and Gregg, was serviceable as never before, matching well the troopers of Stuart at Brandy Station, Aldie, and Middleburg. Screened on his left flank by his cavalry, as, on the other hand, Lee was screened by a similar body on his right, Hooker marched in columns parallel to those of his foe and farther east, yet always interposing between the enemy and Washington. As June drew to its end the Confederate advance was near Harrisburg, but the Federals were not caught napping. Hooker stood at Frederick, in Maryland, his corps stretched on either hand to cover Washington and Baltimore, touching hands one with the other, and all confronting the foe.

Lee’s previous campaign had shown with what disregard of military rules he could act, a recklessness up to this time justified by good luck and the ineptitude of his adversaries. Still contemptuous of risks, he made just here an audacious move which was to result unfortunately.246 He ordered, or perhaps suffered, Stuart, whom as he drew toward the Potomac he had held close on his right flank, to undertake with the cavalry a raid around the Federal army, after the precedents of the Peninsular and Second Bull Run campaigns. Casting loose from his chief, June 25th, Stuart sallied out eastward and penetrated close to the neighborhood of Washington. He did no harm beyond making a few small captures and causing a useless scare; on the other hand, he suffered terrible fatigue, his exhausted men falling asleep almost by squadrons in their saddles. He could get no news from his friends, nor could he find Ewell’s corps, which he had hoped to meet. Quite worn out with hardship, he did not become available to Lee until the late afternoon of July 2d. A critical battle might have had a different issue247 had the Confederate cavalry been in its proper place. It was almost a chance, through a scout of Longstreet’s, that Lee, at Chambersburg, all uncertain of the Federal movement, heard at last that his enemy was close at hand and threatening his communications. At once he withdrew Ewell southward, so that he might face the danger with his three divisions together.

Meantime a most critical change came about in the camp of his foes. Hooker, on ill terms with Halleck, and engaged in controversy with him over Halleck’s refusal to authorize the withdrawal of the garrison of Harper’s Ferry, rather petulantly asked to be relieved of command, and the President complied at once. Such promptness was to be expected. Hooker had been doing well; but he had done just as well before Chancellorsville; he was generally distrusted; his best subordinates were outspoken as to his lamentable record. The unsparing critic of Burnside had now to take his own medicine. A battle with Lee could not be ventured upon under a commander who could not keep on good terms with the administration, had there been nothing else. It was perilous swapping of horses in the midst of the stream, but Lincoln was forced to do it. Some cried out for the restoration of McClellan, and others for that of FrÉmont. The appointment fell to George Gordon Meade, commander of the Fifth Corps, who, with soldierly dignity, obeyed orders, assuming the burden June 28th, with a pledge to do his best.

Meade, a West-Pointer of 1835,248 was a man of ripe experience, thoroughly trained in war. He had first risen leading a brigade of the Pennsylvania reserves at Mechanicsville, just a year earlier. The good name then won he confirmed at Antietam, and still more at Fredericksburg. He was tall and spare, with an eagle face which no one that saw it can forget, a perfect horseman, and, though irascible, possessed of strong and manly character. In that momentous hour the best men were doubtful on what footing they stood. When Lincoln’s messenger, with a solemn countenance, handed to Meade the appointment, he took it to be an order for his arrest. Placed in command, he hesitated not a moment, building his strategy upon the foundation laid by his predecessor.

Meade had with him in the field seven corps of infantry: the First, commanded temporarily by Doubleday; the Second, by Hancock, recently promoted; the Third, by Sickles; the Fifth, his own corps, now turned over to Sykes; the Sixth, Sedgwick, fortunately not displaced, though so unjustly censured for his noble work on May 3d; the Eleventh, Howard; and the Twelfth, Slocum. The excellent cavalry divisions were under Buford, Kilpatrick, and Gregg; and in the lower places capable young officers—Custer, Merritt, Farnsworth, Devin, Gamble—were pushing into notice. Of field-guns there were three hundred and forty. It was a fault of the Union organization that corps, divisions, and brigades were too small, bringing about, among other evils, too large a number of general and staff officers.249 The Confederates here were wiser. Lee faced Meade’s seven corps with but three, and two hundred and ninety-three guns; but each Confederate corps was nearly or quite twice as large as a Union corps; divisions and brigades were in the same relative proportion. The Army of the Potomac numbered 88,289 effectives; the Army of Northern Virginia, 75,000.250

Meade at once chose and caused to be surveyed a position on Pipe Creek, just south of the Maryland line, as a field suitable to be held should the enemy come that way. He marched, however, northwestward cautiously, his corps in touch but spread wide apart, ready for battle and protecting as ever the capital and cities of the coast.251 His especial reliance in this hour of need was John F. Reynolds, hand in hand with whom he had proceeded in his career from the day when, as fellow-brigadiers, they repulsed A.P. Hill at Beaver Dam Creek. This man he trusted completely and loved much. He warmly approved Hooker’s action in committing to Reynolds the left wing nearest the enemy, made up of the First, Third, and Eleventh corps. This made Reynolds second in command. Meade, commander-in-chief, retained the centre and right. So the armies hovered, each uncertain of the other’s exact whereabouts, during the last days of June.

On July 1st, though Stuart for the moment was out of the campaign, the Federal cavalry was on hand. Buford’s division, thrown out from the Federal left, moved well forward north of the town of Gettysburg, and were met by Heth’s division of Hill’s corps, marching forward, it is said, with no more hostile purpose at the time than that of getting shoes.252 Buford held his line valiantly, being presently joined by Reynolds. The two, from the cupola of the seminary near by, studied the prospect hurriedly. A stand must be made then and there, and the First Corps, close at hand, was presently in support of the bold horsemen, who, dismounted, were with their carbines blocking the advance of the hostile infantry.

The most irreparable and lamentable loss of the entire battle now occurred at the very outset. Reynolds fell dead at the front, leaving the left divisions without a leader in the most critical hour. Heth’s advance was roughly handled; one brigade was mostly captured, Doubleday nodding, with a pleasant “Good-morning, I am glad to see you,” to its commander, his old West Point chum Archer, as the latter was passed to the rear among the prisoners.253 There were still other captures and much fighting; but Ewell was fast arriving by the roads from the north; and although Howard, with the Eleventh Corps, came up from the south at the same time, the heavier Confederate battalions could not be held. Barlow, thrown out far forward into Ewell’s path, was at once badly wounded, whereupon his division was repulsed. The Eleventh Corps in general gave way before Ewell’s rush, rolling back disordered through the town, where large numbers were captured. Fortunately, on the high crest of Cemetery Hill, Howard had stationed in reserve the division of Steinwehr. What broken brigades and regiments, fleeing through the town, could reach this point were forthwith rallied and reorganized. Thus, at mid-day of July 1st, things were hopeful for Lee. The First Corps, its flank exposed by the retirement of the Eleventh Corps, fell back fighting through Gettysburg to Cemetery Hill during the afternoon. Lee swept the Federals from the town and the fields and ridges beyond. Had Ewell stormed Cemetery Hill at once, Lee might have won a great success.

One of the first marks of a capacity for leadership is the power to choose men, and Meade now showed this conspicuously. He had lost Reynolds, his main dependence, a loss that no doubt affected greatly the fortunes of the first day’s battle; he replaced Reynolds with a young officer whom it was necessary to push over the heads of several seniors; but a better selection could not have been made. Of the splendid captains whom the long agony of the Army of the Potomac was slowly evolving, probably the best as an all-round soldier was Winfield Scott Hancock. Since his West Point training, finished in 1844,254 he had had wide and thorough military experience, climbing laboriously from colonel to corps commander, winning out from each grade to the next higher through faithful and able service. He could deal with figures; was diligent over papers and office drudgery; he was a patient drill-master—all these, and at the same time so dashing and magnetic in the field that he early earned the title “The Superb.”255 His vigor, moreover, was tempered by judgment.

Hancock it was whom Meade now sent forward from Taneytown, thirteen miles away, when he was anxiously gathering in his host, to lead the hard-pressed left wing; he was to judge whether the position should be held, as Reynolds had thought, or a retirement attempted toward the surveyed lines of Pipe Creek. The apparition on Cemetery Hill, just before four o’clock, July 1st, of Hancock upon his sweating charger, was equal to a reinforcement by an army corps. Fugitives halted; fragments of formations were welded into proper battle-lines. In the respite given by Ewell, so ill-timed for Lee, the shattered First and Eleventh corps found breathing-space and plucked up heart. At six o’clock they were joined by the Twelfth Corps, that of the steadfast Slocum. Hancock, now feeling that there were troops enough for the present, and resolute leaders, galloped back to report to his chief. Upon his report Meade concentrated everything toward Cemetery Hill, the troops plodding through the moonlit night. Meade himself reached the field an hour past midnight, gaunt and hollow-eyed through want of sleep,256 but clear in mind and stout of heart. At dawn of July 2d the Second Corps, at the head of which Gibbon had taken Hancock’s place, and the Third Corps, Sickles, were at hand. At noon arrived the Fifth, and soon after the Sixth, Sedgwick having marched his men thirty-four miles in eighteen hours.

Two parallel ridges, their crests separated by an interval of not quite a mile, extend at Gettysburg north and south. The more westerly of these, called, from the Lutheran College there, Seminary Ridge, was the scene of the first attack on July 1st, but on the second day became the main Confederate position. The eastern ridge, terminated at its northern end by the town cemetery, close to which Howard so fortunately stationed Steinwehr on the first day, became the Federal stronghold. Cemetery Ridge was really shaped like a fishhook, its line curving eastward to the abrupt and wooded Culp’s Hill, the barb of the hook. At the curve the ridge was steep and rough with ledges and bowlders; as it ran southward its height diminished until, after a mile or so, it rose again into two marked elevations—Round Top, six hundred feet high, with a spur, Little Round Top, just north.

On the morning of July 2d the Federals lay along this ridge in order as follows: at the extreme right, on Culp’s Hill (the fishhook’s barb), the Twelfth Corps, Slocum; at the bend, near the cemetery, the Eleventh Corps, Howard, reinforced from other bodies; on their left the First, now under Newton, and the Second, Gibbon. The First and Second corps formed, as it were, the shank of the hook, which the Third, Sickles, was expected to prolong. The Fifth, on arriving, took place behind the Third; and the Sixth, when it appeared from the east, helped to make secure the trains and sent aid elsewhere. The convex formation presently proved to be of incalculable value, enabling Meade to strengthen rapidly any threatened point. Fronting their foe, the Confederates lay in a parallel concave line, Ewell close at the curve and in the town, and A.P. Hill on Seminary Ridge; this line Longstreet prolonged southward, his right flank opposed to Round Top. The concave formation was an embarrassment to Lee—no reinforcements could reach threatened points without making a wide circuit.

When Meade, supposing that Sickles had prolonged with the Third Corps the southward-stretching line, reviewed the field, he found the Third Corps thrown out far in advance, to the Emmittsburg road, which here passed along a dominating ridge; the break in the continuity of his line filled the general with alarm, but it was too late to change. Whether or not Sickles blundered will not be argued here. Meade condemned; other good authorities have approved, among them Sheridan, who regarded as just Sickles’ claim that the line marked out by Meade was untenable.257

What happened here will presently be told.

Lee, too, was out of harmony with Longstreet, his well-tried second; and the first matter in dispute was the expediency of fighting at all at Gettysburg. When Longstreet, coming from Chambersburg, took in the situation, he urged upon Lee, bent upon his battle, a turning of the Federal left as better strategy, by which the Confederates might interpose between Meade and Washington and compel Meade to make the attack. Longstreet held Lee to be perfect in defensive warfare; on the offensive, however, he thought him “over-combative” and liable to rashness.258 Lee rejected the advice with a touch of irritation; and when Longstreet, acquiescing, made a second suggestion—namely, for a tactical turning of the Federal left instead of a direct assault—Lee pronounced for the assault in a manner so peremptory that Longstreet could say no more. From first to last at Gettysburg, Longstreet was ill at ease, in spite of which his blows fell like those from the hammer of a war-god. The friends of Lee have denounced him for a sluggishness and insubordination that, as they claim, lost for them the battle.259 His defence of himself is earnest and pathetic, of great weight as coming from one of the most able and manful figures on either side in the Civil War.

Of Longstreet’s three divisions, only one, that of McLaws, was on hand with all its brigades on the forenoon of July 2d. At noon arrived Law, completing Hood’s division. Pickett’s division was still behind; but in mid-afternoon, without waiting for him, Longstreet attacked—Hood, with all possible energy, striking Sickles in his far-advanced position and working dangerously around his flank toward the Round Tops. Longstreet’s generals, Hood and afterward Law (Hood falling wounded in the first attack), though men of courage and dash, assaulted only after having filed written protests, feeling sure that the position could be easily turned and gained with little fighting. But Lee had been peremptory, and no choice was left.260

Gouverneur K. Warren, then chief-engineer of the Army of the Potomac, despatched by Meade to the left during the afternoon, found the Round Tops undefended. They were plainly the key to the Federal position, offering points which, if seized by the enemy, would make possible an enfilading of the Federal line. Troops of the Twelfth Corps, at first stationed there, had been withdrawn and their places not supplied. There was not a moment to lose. Even as he stood, Warren beheld in the opposite woods the gleam of arms from Longstreet’s swift advance. Leaping down from ledge to ledge, he met a brigade of the Fifth Corps, just arrived and marching to the aid of Sickles. These he diverted to the eyrie he had so lately left; a battery, too, was dragged up over the rocks, and none too soon. At that very moment the men of Hood charged out of the valley, and the height was held only by the most obstinate combat.

From the valley, meantime, came up a tumult of arms which, as the sun threw its rays aslant, spread wider and louder. Longstreet and A.P. Hill threw in upon the Third Corps every man available; while, on the other hand, Meade poured in to its support division after division from the Fifth, and at last from the Second and Twelfth.261 About six o’clock Sickles fell wounded; by sunset his line was everywhere forced back, though not in rout. By dusk the Confederates had mastered all resistance in the valley. But the line once reached which Meade had originally designed, running north from Little Round Top to Cemetery Ridge, retreat went no farther. That line was not crossed by foot of foe. When night fell the Round Tops were held firmly, while troops from the Sixth Corps guarded the Union left. Nearer the centre stood the Third and Fifth, much shattered but still defiant. In a way, what had happened was but a rectification of Meade’s line: the Confederates, indeed, had won ground, but the losses they had inflicted were no more appalling than those they had received.

Meantime, fighting no less determined and sanguinary had taken place at the cemetery and Culp’s Hill. Lee’s plan contemplated a simultaneous attack at the north and south; but Ewell, at the north, was late in his advance, and the intended effect of distracting the Federals was wellnigh lost. The Louisiana brigade dashed itself in vain against the height just above the town. The Stonewall division fared better; for, the Federal defenders being for the most part withdrawn, they seized intrenchments on Culp’s Hill, penetrating far—for Meade a most critical advance, since they came within thirty rods of the Baltimore turnpike, where lay his trains and reserve ammunition. The South has always believed that, had Stonewall Jackson been there, the Federal rear would have been reached, and rout and capture made certain.

For both sides it had been a day of terrible experiences, and for the Federals the outlook was perhaps more gloomy than for their foes. On each flank the Confederates had gained an advantage, and Lee probably felt a hopefulness which the circumstances did not really justify. Meade gathered his generals at midnight in council. It was in a little room, but ten or twelve feet square, a group dust-covered and sweat-stained, the strong faces sternly earnest. Some sat on the bed; some stood; Warren, wounded, stretched out on the floor, was overcome by sleep. There was no vote but to fight it out on the morrow. In this Meade acquiesced, carefully planning for a retreat, however, should the need arise. To Gibbon, commanding the Second Corps, placed between the wings, he said: “Your turn will come to-morrow. To-day he has struck the flanks; next, it will be the centre.”262

Lee was drawn on by the success of the first day to fight again on the second; his success on the second induced him to try for the third time; but he had exhausted his good-fortune. At earliest dawn of July 3, 1863, began a wrestle for the possession of Culp’s Hill, Ewell heavily reinforcing the Stonewall division which had won footing there the night before, and the Twelfth Corps as stubbornly struggling for the ground it had lost. It was a fight of six hours, in which the extreme northern wings of the two armies only were concerned. The Federals won, at a heavy sacrifice of life.

Elsewhere the armies rested, an ominous silence at last reigning on the trampled and bloody field under the mid-day sun. Meade and his soldiers knew that it portended danger, and with a sure intuition the army chief was watching with especial care the centre, as yet unassailed. On the Confederate side, the unhappy Longstreet, at odds with his chief as to the wisdom of the campaign from the start, and disapproving both its strategy and tactics, was now in deeper gloom than ever. Lee had determined to assault the Federal centre, and by a cruel turn of fate the blow must be struck by the reluctant Longstreet. Of the three great Confederate corps, it was only in Longstreet’s that a force remained as yet unwrung by the fearful agonies of the last two days. Pickett’s division, solidly Virginian, and in the eyes of Lee a Tenth Legion in its valor, as yet had done nothing, and was to bear the brunt of the attack. “What troops do you design for the assault?” Longstreet had asked. Lee, having indicated Pickett’s division of five thousand, with auxiliary divisions, making an entire number in the charging column of fifteen thousand, the Georgian burst out: “I have been a soldier from the ground up. I have been with soldiers engaged in fights by couples, by squads, companies, regiments, armies, and should know as well as any one what soldiers can do. It is my opinion that no fifteen thousand men ever arrayed for battle can take that position.”263

But Lee was unmoved. Confident of success, he despatched Stuart, arrived at last after his raid, so long and futile, around beyond the Federal right. When the Union centre should be broken and Meade thrown into retreat, Stuart was to seize its only practicable route for retreat, the Baltimore pike, and make the defeat decisive.

Meade, meantime, had managed warily and well. At his centre stood Hancock, his best lieutenant. There were massed the First and Second corps, with reserve troops at hand ready to pour in at the word, with batteries bearing upon front and flank, every approach guarded, every man and horse on the alert. The provost guards, and in the rear of all a regiment of cavalry, formed in line behind, had orders to shoot any faint-hearts who, in the crisis, should turn from the foe to flee.264 At one o’clock two signal-guns were heard on Seminary Ridge, upon which followed a terrible cannonade, appalling but only slightly harmful, for the waiting ranks found cover from the missiles. Feeling sure that this was a prelude to something more serious, the Federal chief relaxed his fire to spare his ammunition. It was understood on the other side that the Federal guns were silenced; and that moment having been appointed as the time for the onset, Pickett inquired of Longstreet if he should go forward. Longstreet, convinced that the charge must fail, made no reply, though the question was repeated. “I shall go forward,” said Pickett, to which his general bowed his head. Instantly was heard the footbeat of the fifteen thousand, and the heavy-hearted Longstreet, mounting his horse, rode out to behold the sacrifice. He has recorded that the column passed him down the slope high-hearted, buoyant, hopeful, Pickett riding gracefully, like a holiday soldier, with cap set jauntily on his long, auburn locks.265

The silence of the Federal guns had been for a purpose. As Pickett’s men appeared there was a sudden reopening of their tumult; a deadly sequence from round-shot to canister, and thence to the MiniÉ-balls of the infantry. The defenders now saw before them, as they peered through the battle smoke from their shelter, a solid wedge of men, the division of Pickett, flanked by masses on the right and left commanded by Pettigrew and Wilcox. The column approached, and visibly melted away. Of Pickett’s commanders of brigades every one went down, and their men lay literally in heaps beside them.

A hundred or so, led by Armistead, his cap held aloft on his sword-point, actually penetrated the Federal line and reached the “clump of trees” just beyond, holding for a few moments a battery. Pettigrew and Trimble, just north, struggled also for a footing. But the foothold was only for a moment; on front and flank the Federals converged, and the tide rolled slowly and heavily rearward. For the South all hope of victory was gone.

As the broken and diminished multitude fell back to Seminary Ridge, Lee rode out to meet them. He was alone, his staff being all absent, in that supreme moment, on desperate errands. His face was calm and resolute, his voice confident but sympathetic as he exclaimed, “It was all my fault; now help me to do what I can to save what is left.” It casts a light on his character that even in that hour he chided a young officer near for chastising his horse: “Don’t whip him, captain. I’ve got just such another foolish horse myself, and whipping does no good.”266 Longstreet declares Lee said again that night, about the bivouac-fire: “It was all my fault. You ought not to have made that last attack”; and that still again Lee wrote to him at a later time, “If I had only taken your advice, even on the 3d, and moved around the Federal left, how different all might have been!”267

Longstreet also records that he fully expected a counter-stroke at once, and looked to his batteries, only to find the ammunition exhausted; but they were his only reliance for defence. The Federal cavalry, at that moment attacking his right, occupied troops who might otherwise have been brought to the centre.

Should there have been a counter-stroke? Hancock, lying wounded almost to death in an ambulance, reasoned that, because he had been struck by a tenpenny nail, the Confederate ammunition must be exhausted; he had strength to dictate an approval if the charge should be ordered.268 Lincoln always felt that it should have been made, and lamented that he did not go to Gettysburg himself and push matters on the field, as the crisis required.269 We can surmise what Grant would have done had he instead of Meade, as the sun lowered, looked across the valley from Cemetery Ridge. But the case may be put strongly for Meade: with his best lieutenants dead or wounded, worn out himself, whom else could he trust? And, in the disorder of his line, how could he tell how far his own army had been shattered in the desperate fights, or what was Lee’s condition? It was only prudent to let well enough alone. Nevertheless, a little of such imprudence as his adversary was constantly showing might perhaps have led to Lee’s complete destruction.270 During the three fearful days the Federals had lost 3155 killed, 14,529 wounded, 5365 missing—a total of about 23,000; the Confederates, 3903 killed, 18,735 wounded, 5425 missing—a total of about 28,000.271

As it was, Lee stood defiantly on Seminary Ridge full twenty-four hours longer. Then, gathering his army about him, and calling in the cavalry which, during Pickett’s charge, was receiving severe punishment on its own account at the hands of Gregg and his division, he slowly withdrew. Practically undisturbed, he crossed the Potomac, followed with great deliberation by the army that had conquered but failed to crush.

Lincoln’s disappointment was never greater than over the lame outcome of Gettysburg. “We had them within our grasp,” he cried. “We had only to stretch forth our hands and they were ours, and nothing I could say or do could make the army move. Our army held the War in the hollow of their hand and they would not close it.” The honor that fell to Meade for his splendid service was deserved. While the criticism was violent he asked to be relieved. But the better nature of the North made itself evident at last, and he was retained. It was felt that he had served his country most nobly, and, though possibly falling short of the highest, deserved to be forever cherished among the immortals.

SYNOPSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS, CHIEFLY
MILITARY, BETWEEN THE BATTLES OF
GETTYSBURG AND VICKSBURG, 1863,
AND APPOMATTOX, 1865

1863. Surrender of Port Hudson. Conscription riots in New York. The Confederate cavalry leader, General Morgan, makes a raid into Indiana. Confederate victory at Chickamauga. Federal victories of Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain, and Missionary Ridge. Admission of Nevada into the Union. The Archduke Maximilian, of Austria, lands at Vera Cruz and assumes the crown of Mexico, with the support of French troops.

1864. The Red River expedition. Grant supersedes Halleck as commander-in-chief of the Federal armies. Storming of Fort Pillow by the Confederates. General Sherman begins his march on Atlanta. Battle of the Wilderness. Battle of Spottsylvania Court-house. Second battle of Cold Harbor. Siege of Petersburg. Sinking of the Confederate cruiser Alabama by the Kearsarge. Confederate raid into Maryland and Pennsylvania. Federal naval victory of Mobile Bay. The Federals occupy Atlanta. Battle of Winchester and Cedar Creek. Abraham Lincoln re-elected President. Federal occupation of Savannah.

1865. The Federals capture Fort Fisher. General Sherman occupies Charleston. Organization of the Freedmen’s Bureau. Battle of Five Forks. Occupation of Petersburg and Richmond by the Federals, April 3rd. Surrender of General Lee at Appomattox Court-House, April 9th. Assassination of Abraham Lincoln, April 14th. Andrew Johnson succeeds to the Presidency. Capture of Jefferson Davis in Georgia. End of the Civil War. Proclamation of amnesty. The Thirteenth Amendment, abolishing slavery in the United States, becomes a part of the Constitution.