Henry Wikoff, having admitted before a Committee of the House of Representatives that he had filed at the telegraph office, for transmission to the New York Herald, portions of the President's message, he was asked how he obtained it. This he declined to state, saying that he was "under an obligation of strict secrecy." The House accordingly directed the Sergeant-at-Arms to hold Wikoff in close custody, and he was locked up in a room hastily furnished for his accommodation. It was generally believed that Mrs. Lincoln had permitted Wikoff to copy those portions of the message that he had published, and this opinion was confirmed when General Sickles appeared as his counsel. The General vibrated between Wikoff's place of imprisonment, the White House, and the residence of Mrs. Lincoln's gardener, named Watt. The Committee finally summoned the General before them, and put some home questions to him. He replied sharply, and for a few minutes a war of words raged. He narrowly escaped Wikoff's fate, but finally, after consulting numerous books of evidence, the Committee concluded not to go to extremities. While the examination was pending, the Sergeant-at- Arms appeared with Watt. He testified that he saw the message in the library, and, being of a literary turn of mind, perused it; that, however, he did not make a copy, but, having a tenacious memory, carried portions of it in his mind, and the next day repeated them word for word to Wikoff. Meanwhile, Mr. Lincoln had visited the Capitol and urged the Republicans on the Committee to spare him disgrace, so Watt's improbable story was received and Wikoff was liberated.

President Lincoln, when a Congressman came to bore him for an appointment or with a grievance, had a pleasant way of telling a succession of stories, which left his visitor no chance to state his case. One day, a Representative, who had been thus silenced, stated from experience as follows: "I've been trying for the last four days to get an audience with the President. I have gone to the White House every morning and waited till dark, but could not get a chance to speak to him until to-day, when I was admitted to his presence. I told him what I wanted, and supposed I was going to get a direct answer, when, what do you think? Why, he started off with, 'Do you know, I heard a good thing yesterday about the difference between an Amsterdam Dutchman and any other "dam" Dutchman.' And then he commenced telling his stories. I was mad enough to knock the old fellow down. But the worst of the whole thing was that just as he got through with the last story in came Secretary Seward, who said he must have a private conference with him immediately. Mr. Lincoln cooly turned to me and said, 'Mr. ——, can you call again?' Bother his impudence, I say, to keep me listening to his jokes for two hours, and then ask me to call again!"

President Lincoln was quite ill that winter, and was not inclined to listen to all the bores who called at the White House. One day, just as one of these pests had seated himself for a long interview, the President's physician happened to enter the room, and Mr. Lincoln said, holding out his hands: "Doctor, what are these blotches?" "That's varioloid, or mild small-pox," said the Doctor. "They're all over me. It is contagious, I believe?" said Mr. Lincoln. "Very contagious, indeed," replied the Esculapian attendant. "Well, I can't stop, Mr. Lincoln; I just called to see how you were," said the visitor. "Oh! don't be in a hurry, sir," placidly remarked the Executive. "Thank you, sir; I'll call again," replied the visitor, executing a masterly retreat from a fearful contagion. "Do, sir," said the President. "Some people said they could not take very well to my proclamation, but now, I am happy to say, I have something that everybody can take." By this time the visitor was making a desperate break for Pennsylvania Avenue, which he reached on the double-quick and quite out of breath.

On the 2d and 3d of May, 1863, General Hooker was most disastrously defeated at Chancellorsville. Several weeks later, when General Lee had moved northward into Pennsylvania, exacting contributions from towns, and destroying manufacturing establishments, and when the Army of the Potomac had hurried across Maryland to attack him, General Hooker resigned almost on the eve of the battle of Gettysburg. General Meade was placed in command, and his gallant conduct on that occasion gave great satisfaction to President Lincoln, although he was sadly disappointed that the invaders had not been followed and annihilated.

Meanwhile General Grant was besieging Vicksburg, which had been well called "the Gibraltar of the Mississippi," and the people, who had become heart-sick of military engineering, began to lose courage. At one time President Lincoln actually determined to supersede General Grant by General Banks, but the latter, on arriving at the scene of hostilities, saw that everything had been done that could be done, and that the end was near at hand. On the 4th of July, General Pemberton asked for a proposition of terms, and General Grant replied: "Unconditional surrender."

On the 26th of November, 1863, President Lincoln, accompanied by his Cabinet, Vice-President Hamlin, the Governors of several States, and a brilliant staff of officers, attended the dedication of the National Cemetery at Gettysburg. The address was delivered by Edward Everett, whose head was whitened with the snows of seventy winters, but whose form was as erect, his complexion as clear, and his voice as musical as it was when he had been a Representative in Congress years before. He had then said that he would buckle on his knapsack in defense of slavery; now he eulogized those who had laid down their lives in the work of its destruction. But his well memorized and finely rounded sentences were eclipsed by President Lincoln's few words, read in an unmusical treble voice, and concluding with the sublime assertion, "that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that governments of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth."

[Facsimile] Geo. G. Meade GEORGE GORDON MEADE, born December 30th, 1815, at Cadiz, Spain, where his father was located in the United States service; graduated at West Point in 1835; entered the artillery service and was engaged in the Seminole and Mexican Wars, and in August 1861, was made Brigadier-General of Volunteers; Major-General, 1862; Commander-in- Chief of the Army of the Potomac, June 28th, 1863; won the Battle of Gettysburg, July 1-3, 1863; continued to command the Army of the Potomac until the close of the war. Died at Philadelphia, November 6th, 1872.

CHAPTER XIII. CIVIL AND MILITARY INTRIGUES.

Schuyler Colfax was elected Speaker of the House of Representatives. When Congress met on the 7th of December, 1863, among the new members sworn in were Generals Garfield and Schenck, of Ohio, and Deming, of Connecticut, who had seen service; Mr. James G. Blaine, who had been the editor of the Portland Advertiser, and Mr. James G. Brooks, who had for many years edited the New York Express, with Brutus J. Clay, of Kentucky; George S. Boutwell and Oakes Ames, of Massachusetts, and other prominent men. One of the first acts of Congress was to vote a medal of thanks to General Grant for the victories which he had won at Missionary Ridge and at Chattanooga. On one side of this medal was his profile, surrounded by a wreath of laurel, with his name, the date and authority of the presentation, and, on the encircling work, a star for each State. On the reverse was a figure of Fame, seated in the heavens with emblems of prosperity and power; while upon various parts of the work the names of Grant's chief victories were inscribed.

At the New Year's reception Mr. Lincoln was in excellent spirits, giving each passer-by a cordial greeting and a warm shake of the hand, while for some there was a quiet joke. Mrs. Lincoln stood at his right hand, wearing a purple silk dress trimmed with black velvet and lace, with a lace necktie fastened with a pearl pin; her head-dress was ornamented with a white plume. Secretary Seward was there, sphinx-like and impassible. Governor Chase seemed somewhat perplexed, balancing, perhaps, between the succession to the Presidency or the Chief Justiceship; Secretary Wells' patriarchal form towered above the crowd, and there were a few Senators and Representatives, a majority of either House being, on dit, enjoying the hospitalities of New York. But the army officers, as they came in from the War Department, headed by General Halleck, presented an imposing display, some with epaulettes and feathers, but a majority in battle attire. The naval officers, headed by Admiral Davis, also presented a fine appearance.