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Story of Young Abraham Lincoln

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<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> <h3>The Glory of Gettysburg</h3> <div class='center'> THE BATTLE</div> The Battle of Gettysburg, which raged through July 1st, 2nd and 3d, 1863, was called the "high water mark" of the Civil War, and one of the "fifteen decisive battles" of history. It was decisive because General Robert E. Lee, with his brave army, was driven back from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. If Lee had been victorious there, he might have destroyed Philadelphia and New York. By such a brilliant stroke he could have surrounded and captured Baltimore and Washington. This would have changed the grand result of the war. In point of numbers, bravery and genius, the battle of Gettysburg was the greatest that had ever been fought up to that time. Glorious as this was, the greatest glory of Gettysburg lay in the experiences and utterances of one man, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States of America.[227] It came at a terrible time in the progress of the war, when everything seemed to be going against the Union. There had been four disastrous defeats—twice at Bull Run, followed by Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville. Even the battle of Antietam, accounted victory enough for the President to issue his Emancipation Proclamation, proved to be a drawn battle, with terrific losses on both sides. Lee was driven back from Maryland then, it is true, but he soon won the great battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, and had made his way north into Pennsylvania. The night after the battle of Chancellorsville (fought May 2nd and 3d, 1863), was the darkest in the history of the Civil War. President Lincoln walked the floor the whole night long, crying out in his anguish, "O what will the country say!" To fill the decimated ranks of the army, the Government had resorted to the draft, which roused great opposition in the North and provoked foolish, unreasoning riots in New York City. After winning the battle of Gettysburg, which the President hoped would end the war, General[228] Meade, instead of announcing that he had captured the Confederate army, stated that he had "driven the invaders from our soil." Mr. Lincoln fell on his knees and, covering his face with his great, strong hands, cried out in tones of agony: "'Driven the invaders from our soil!' My God, is that all?" But Lincoln's spirits were bound to rise. Believing he was "on God's side," he felt that the cause of Right could not lose, for the Lord would save His own. The next day, July 4th, 1863, came the surrender of Vicksburg, the stronghold of the great West. Chastened joy began to cover his gaunt and pallid features, and the light of hope shone again in his deep, gray eyes. Calling on General Sickles, in a Washington hospital—for the general had lost a leg on the second day of the battle of Gettysburg—the President was asked why he believed that victory would be given the Federal forces at Gettysburg. "I will tell you how it was. In the pinch of your campaign up there, when everybody seemed panic-stricken, and nobody could tell what was[229] going to happen, I went to my room one day and locked the door, and got down on my knees before Almighty God, and prayed to him mightily for victory at Gettysburg. I told Him this was His war, and our cause His cause, but that we couldn't stand another Fredericksburg or Chancellorsville. And I then and there made a solemn vow to Almighty God that if He would stand by our boys at Gettysburg, I would stand by Him. And He did, and I will!" The President's call on General Sickles was on the Sunday after the three-days' battle of Gettysburg, before the arrival of the gunboat at Cairo, Illinois, with the glad tidings from Vicksburg, which added new luster to the patriotic joy of Independence Day. The telegraph wires had been so generally cut on all sides of Vicksburg that the news was sent to Cairo and telegraphed to Washington. In proof that his faith even included the Mississippi blockade he went on: "Besides, I have been praying over Vicksburg also, and believe our Heavenly Father is going to give us victory there, too, because we need it, in order to bisect the Confederacy, and let 'the Father of Waters flow unvexed to the sea.'"[230] <div class='center'> THE ADDRESS</div> Not long after the conflict at Gettysburg a movement was on foot to devote a large part of that battle-ground to a national cemetery. The Hon. Edward Everett, prominent in national and educational affairs, and the greatest living orator, was invited to deliver the grand oration. The President was asked, if he could, to come and make a few dedicatory remarks, but Mr. Everett was to be the chief speaker of the occasion. The Sunday before the 19th of November, 1863, the date of the dedication, the President went with his friend Noah Brooks to Gardner's gallery, in Washington, where he had promised to sit for his photograph. While there he showed Mr. Brooks a proof of Everett's oration which had been sent to him. As this printed address covered two newspaper pages, Mr. Lincoln struck an attitude and quoted from a speech by Daniel Webster: "Solid men of Boston, make no long orations!" and burst out laughing. When Mr. Brooks asked about his speech for that occasion, Mr. Lincoln replied: "I've got it written, but[231] not licked into shape yet. It's short, short, short!" During the forenoon of the 18th, Secretary John Hay was anxious lest the President be late for the special Presidential train, which was to leave at noon for Gettysburg. "Don't worry, John," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm like the man who was going to be hung, and saw the crowds pushing and hurrying past the cart in which he was being taken to the place of execution. He called out to them: 'Don't hurry, boys. There won't be anything going on till I get there!'" When the train stopped, on the way to Gettysburg, a little girl on the platform held up a bouquet to Mr. Lincoln, lisping: "Flowerth for the Prethident." He reached out, took her up and kissed her, saying: "You're a sweet little rosebud yourself. I hope your life will open into perpetual beauty and goodness." About noon on the 19th of November, the distinguished party arrived in a procession and took seats on the platform erected for the exercises. The President was seated in a rocking-chair[232] placed there for him. There were fifteen thousand people waiting, some of whom had been standing in the sun for hours. It was a warm day and a Quaker woman near the platform fainted. An alarm was given and the unconscious woman was in danger of being crushed. The President sprang to the edge of the staging and called out: "Here, let me get hold of that lady." With a firm, strong grasp he extricated her from the crush and seated her in his rocking-chair. When that modest woman "came to," she saw fifteen thousand pairs of eyes watching her while the President of the United States was fanning her tenderly. This was too much for her. She gasped: "I feel—better—now. I want to go—back to—my husband!" "Now, my dear lady," said Mr. Lincoln. "You are all right here. I had an awful time pulling you up out of there, and I couldn't stick you back again!" A youth who stood near the platform in front of the President says that, while Mr. Everett was orating, Mr. Lincoln took his "little speech," as he called it, out of his pocket, and[233] conned it over like a schoolboy with a half-learned lesson. The President had put the finishing touches on it that morning. As it was expected that the President would make a few offhand remarks, no one seems to have noticed its simple grandeur until it was printed in the newspapers. Yet Mr. Lincoln was interrupted four or five times during the two minutes by applause. The fact that the President was speaking was sufficient, no matter what he said. The people would have applauded Abraham Lincoln if he had merely recited the multiplication table! When he finished, they gave "three times three cheers" for the President of the United States, and three cheers for each of the State Governors present. That afternoon there was a patriotic service in one of the churches which the President decided to attend. Taking Secretary Seward with him, he called on an old cobbler named John Burns, of whose courage in the battle of Gettysburg Mr. Lincoln had just heard. Those who planned the dedication did not think the poor cobbler was of much account. The old hero, now known through Bret Harte's poem, "John[234] Burns of Gettysburg," had the pride and joy of having all the village and visitors see him march to the church between President Lincoln and Secretary Seward. This simple act was "just like Lincoln!" He honored Gettysburg in thus honoring one of its humblest citizens. It was Abraham Lincoln's tribute to the patriotism of the dear "common people" whom he said "God must love." <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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