amounting to brutality, were gifts eminently desirable in the Secretary of War of the United States during the years which were now to follow. It was a certainty that men would have no ground whereon to accuse Mr. Stanton of favoritism or of paltering with treason, and his official chief would never be in effect betrayed by weak-kneed subserviency. The latter consideration was almost beyond price in those days.

The new Secretary would be just the man to stand between the Treasury and the contractors, at the same time that he would relieve the President of some of the most trying responsibilities of army management.

There was much criticism of this appointment among the friends of Mr. Lincoln, and they gave him loads of advice. He was urged to appoint a man from New England, or one who might be considered in some beneficial manner politically or geographically representative. He had done a great deal of that sort of thing in the first organization of his Cabinet, and the net results had not impressed him with its importance as a source of anything he was now in need of. He did not believe that any one segment of the national territory contained a man sufficiently representative of its population to be able to add an ounce of strength to the Administration by his appointment to office. He was well aware, on the other hand, that much strength might easily be lost by the appointment of a man obnoxious to extremists of any description.

Mr. Stanton had not as yet made himself offensive to any faction or fraction. To wise friends who expressed a fear of mischief to come from what they called his "impulsiveness," Mr. Lincoln replied: "Well, we may have to treat him as they are sometimes obliged to treat a Methodist minister I know of out West. He gets wrought up to so high a pitch of excitement in his prayers and exhortations that they are obliged to put bricks in his pockets to keep him down. We may be obliged to treat Stanton the same way, but I guess we will let him jump awhile first."

The restraining power hinted at in the anecdote was always at Mr. Stanton's elbow. His superfluous energy consumed itself in such ceaseless toil that, when the war was ended and the duties to which Mr. Lincoln assigned him were all done, the great War Secretary had expended his life for his country and very soon lay down for his long rest. That he would make countless enemies was well understood in the hour of his appointment, and that he continually did so was no surprise at all to Mr. Lincoln. That he should make many mistakes, especially in minor matters rapidly decided and acted upon, was as certain as sunset, but he never once made the cardinal blunders, in such a time, of cowardice, indecision, or inaction. He was, as nearly as might be, the very man Mr. Lincoln required for the hard place he was called to fill. He supplied qualities and training which had not been given to the President. Between the two men, so different, so strangely thrown together, there grew to be a bond of mutual reliance which had in it a remarkable thread of personal, human tenderness.

The constant study of military questions forced upon Mr. Lincoln's mind a perception of certain other defects in his own preparation for the post of Commander-in-Chief. Lack of technical knowledges and of the specific trainings of the military schools hampered him at every turn, and it was too late for him to take a "West Point course" of education. He could not even give the time required for the full examination of authorities or for miscellaneous consultations with all the generals from all the multiplying commands. It was needful, therefore, that he should have at his elbow some man whose carefully tilled and well-stored brain should be in itself a library of military sciences and knowledges, with all its volumes ready to open at the page. Precisely such a man had been made ready for him in the person of Major-General Henry W. Halleck. This officer had already distinguished himself by his management of affairs intrusted to him in the West, but Mr. Lincoln perceived that his best services were not to be

rendered in the field. He was essentially a military scholar, having devoted his life to studies, researches, and writings, of such a nature and quality as to mark him unmistakably as the man of men to supply Mr. Lincoln's technical and other deficiencies. On the 11th of July, 1862, General Halleck was appointed General-in-Chief of all the armies of the United States, and reached Washington in the latter part of the month to assume control. It was not an unimportant consideration that thenceforth generals of armies in the field would receive their orders from a professional soldier, ranking them, and not from a "civilian" of any grade whatever.

It is easy to overlook or belittle the practical statesmanship displayed in the creation of such an office as that to which General Halleck was appointed. The "statute laws" of the land made no mention of it, and the appointment carried with it no permanent promotion or increase of pay. The "Generalin-Chief" had a thankless task before him: almost as much so as had the Secretary of War. Victories won would surely give all their glory to the generals in immediate command of the forces winning them. Sore-hearted men in search of scapegoats for the blame of defeats and failures would continually have one prepared and named for them at the right hand of the President at Washington. He would receive small credit for good advice, and his powers for preventing mischief were limited on every side in spite of his sounding title. This was strikingly exemplified by the results of the Fredericksburg campaign, undertaken against his counsel, lost as he expected, and much of the blame of it cast upon his head by a host of uninformed faultfinders.

It was of the last importance to the stability of the Administration that the tides of sure disappointment and discontent should rise and dash and be dissipated against such breakwaters as Stanton and Halleck and not be permitted to assail injuriously the one man whose personal hold upon the popular heart and confidence was vital to the existence of the nation. Stu

dents of the Constitution of the British Empire may possibly find an analogy there by looking for it.

It may fairly be said that the close of the summer of 1862 found Mr. Lincoln's official staff, for the first time, fully prepared to deal with the work before him and them. Surely a year and a half was no excessive length of time for the accomplishment of so great a feat of wisdom in selection. He had done well with such materials as he had within his reach in the beginning. It is not easy to see how he could have done better. Now, at last, he was efficiently provided, but before him opened gloomily "the dark days" of the war. The prospect or hope of a speedy collapse of the Rebellion had disappeared, and, for the moment, the Nation stood upon the defensive.

CHAPTER XL.

DRAWN BATTLES.

The Fighting under Pope-News from the Army-The Changes of Commanders-Lee in Maryland-The Antietam-Exhausted PatienceRemoval of McClellan-A Great Misunderstanding.

THE position of the Army of the Potomac during the last week of August, 1862, and the days next following, called for the exercise of uncommon firmness and discretion.

General McClellan arrived from Harrison's Landing on the 24th of August, and reported to General Halleck for orders. On the 27th he removed his quarters from Acquia Creek to Alexandria, and was assigned to the duty of forwarding troops to General Pope. It was a time of universal gloom and deep excitement. The tongues of rumor, detraction, of every kind of bitterness, were so busy with all the questions of the hour that it was impossible to sift the true from the false of even what purported to be "evidence." This difficulty was seriously complicated by the practical untrustworthiness of any dispatches. The general in command had done his duty and knew it, and his despatches expressed his indomitable courage and confidence much more accurately than they did the condition of the army or the results of recent battles.

On the 30th of August was fought the battle of Manassas (commonly called the Second Battle of Bull Run); and the Battle of Chantilly, which followed, may be regarded as part of it so far as the effect upon the army or people is concerned. A part of the army had behaved badly and was demoralized, but only a part. It was unfortunate that the country at large and the soldiers out of the fight obtained a first and lasting impres