The news arrived that Grant, the Sledge Hammer of the West, had been put
by Lincoln in command of all the armies of the Union, and would come
east to lead the Army of the Potomac in person, with Meade still as its
nominal chief, but subject, like all the others, to his command.
Harry heard the report with a thrill. He knew now that decisive action
would come soon enough. He had always felt that Meade in front of them
was a wavering foe, and perhaps too cautious. But Grant was of another
kind. He was a pounder. Defeats did not daunt him. He would attack
and then attack again and again, and the diminishing forces of the
Confederacy were ill fitted to stand up against the continued blows of
the hammer. Harry's thrill was partly of apprehension, but whenever he
looked at the steadfast face of his chief his confidence returned.
Winter passed without much activity and spring began to show its first
buds. The earth was drying, after melting snows and icy rains, and Harry
knew that action would not be delayed much longer. Grant was in the East
now. He had gone in January to St. Louis to visit his daughter, who
lay there very ill, and then, after military delays, he had reached
Washington.
Harry afterward heard the circumstances of his arrival, so characteristic
of plain and republican America.
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