them. It is
generally thought that if Meade had followed up his success by a
vigorous offensive Lee's army might have been destroyed. As things were,
having failed in its purpose of breaking the ring that held the
Confederacy, it got back into Virginia unbroken and almost unpunished.

Gettysburg is generally considered as the turning-point of the war,
though perhaps from a purely military point of view more significance
ought to be attached to another success which almost exactly
synchronized with it. The same 4th of July whereon the North learnt of
Lee's failure brought news of the capture of Vicksburg by Grant. This
meant that the whole course of the Mississippi was now in Federal hands,
and made possible an invasion of the Confederacy from the West such as
ultimately effected its overthrow.

Lincoln, whose judgment in such matters was exceptionally keen for a
civilian, had long had his eye on Grant. He had noted his successes and
his failures, and he had noted especially in him the quality which he
could not find in McClellan or in Meade--a boldness of plan, a readiness
to take risks, and above all a disposition to press a success vigorously
home even at a heavy sacrifice. "I can't spare that man; he fights," he
had said when some clamoured for Grant's recall after Shiloh. For those
who warned him that Grant was given to heavy drinking he had an even
more characteristic reply: "I wish I knew what whisky he drinks: I would
send a cask to some of the other generals."

Meade's hesitation after Gettysburg and Grant's achievement at Vicksburg
between them decided him. Grant was now appointed to supreme command of
all the armies of the Union.

Ulysses S. Grant stands out in history as one of those men to whom a
uniform seems to be salvation. As a young man he had fought with credit
in the Mexican war; later he had left the army, and seemingly gone to
the dogs. He took to drink. He lost all his employments. He became to
all appearances an incorrigible waster, a rolling stone, a man whom his
old friends crossed the road to avoid because a meeting with him always
meant an attempt to borrow money.

Then came the war, and Grant grasped--as such broken men often do--at
the chance of a new start. Not without hesitation, he was entrusted with
a subordinate command in the West, and almost at once he justified those
who had been ready to give him a trial by his brilliant share in the
capture of Fort Donelson. From that moment