To illustrate how dependent was the commander of the Army of the Potomac upon Lincoln I give another despatch, sent by the President to Hooker when the latter proposed to make a dash upon Richmond while Lee was moving his army westward towards the Shenandoah Valley.

"If left to me, I would not go south of the Rappahannock upon Lee's moving north of it. If you had Richmond invested to-day, you would not be able to take it in twenty days; meanwhile your communications, and with them your army, would be ruined. I think Lee's army, and not Richmond, is your true objective point. If he comes towards the upper Potomac, follow on his flank and on his inside track, shortening your lines while he lengthens his. Fight him, too, when opportunity offers. If he stays where he is, fret him and fret him."

A few days later Lincoln telegraphed Hooker, "If the head of Lee's army is at Martinsburg 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?" But Hooker made no attempt to do so, and merely followed Lee northward through Virginia and Maryland into Pennsylvania, keeping on the "inside track," as Mr. Lincoln suggested, between the Confederate army and Washington. Before the battle of Gettysburg, which ended the most aggressive campaign of the Confederates, a long-standing feud between Hooker and Halleck became so acute that the President saw that one or the other of them must be relieved. Hooker, in a fit of irritation because Halleck had declined to comply with some unimportant request, asked to be relieved from the command, and the President selected George G. Meade to succeed him. A few days later the battle of Gettysburg was fought. The vain ambition of Lee and Davis to raise the Confederate flag over Independence Hall and establish the head-quarters of the Confederate government in Philadelphia was dissipated and Lee fell back, leaving two thousand six hundred killed, twelve thousand wounded, and five thousand prisoners.

Lincoln's military instincts taught him that the war could be practically ended there if the advantages gained at Gettysburg were properly utilized, and so implored Meade to renew his attack. But Meade held back, Lee escaped, and for once the President lost his patience. In the intensity of his disappointment he wrote Meade as follows:

"You fought and beat the enemy at Gettysburg, and, of course, his loss was as great as yours. He retreated, and you did not, as it seemed to me, pressingly pursue him; but a flood in the river detained him till, by slow degrees, you were again upon him. You had at least twenty thousand veteran troops directly with you and as many more raw ones within supporting distance, all in addition to those who fought with you at Gettysburg, while it was not possible that he had received a single recruit, and yet you stood and let the flood run down, bridges be built, and the enemy move away at his leisure, without attacking him. 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? I 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."

Before the mails left that night Lincoln's wrath was spent, his amiability was restored, and this letter was never sent.

It is impossible in the limits of this volume to relate the details of the war, but from the detached incidents that have been given, and the narrative of his relations with Scott, McClellan, Frémont, Grant, and other generals referred to in this chapter, the reader may form a clear and accurate conception of Abraham Lincoln's military genius and the unselfish and often ill-advised consideration with which he invariably treated his commanders. During the last year of the war the right men seem to have found the right places, and in all the voluminous correspondence of the President from the White House and the War Department with Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, and Thomas there appears to have been a perfect understanding and complete unity of opinion and purpose between them. He allowed them greater liberty than other commanders had enjoyed, evidently because they had his confidence to a higher degree; he never was compelled to repeat the entreaties, admonitions, and rebukes with which the pages of his correspondence during the earlier part of the war were filled. His relations with Sherman cannot better be defined than by the following brief letter:

"My dear General Sherman: Many, many thanks for your Christmas gift, the capture of Savannah. When you were about leaving Atlanta for the Atlantic coast I was anxious, if not fearful; but feeling that you were the better judge, and remembering that 'nothing risked, nothing gained,' I did not interfere. Now, the undertaking being a success, the honor is all yours, for I believe none of us went farther than to acquiesce. And taking the work of General Thomas into the count, as it should be taken, it is, indeed, a great success. Not only does it afford the obvious and immediate military advantages, but in showing to the world that your army could be divided, putting the stronger part to an important new service, and yet leaving enough to vanquish the old opposing force of the whole—Hood's army—it brings those who sat in darkness to see a great light. But what next? I suppose it will be safe if I leave General Grant and yourself to decide. Please make my grateful acknowledgments to your whole army, officers and men."

Copyright, 1900, by McClure, Phillips & Co.