For two terrible days and nights Betty Winter saw the endless line of ambulances creep from the field of Fredericksburg. Some of these men lay on the frozen ground for forty-eight hours before relief came. Many of the wounded might have lived but for the frightful exposure to cold which followed the battle. They died in hundreds.

Thousands were placed on the train for Washington and so great was the pitiful suffering among them Betty left with the first load. There would be more work in the hospitals there than in Burnside\'s camp. It would be many a day before his shattered army could be ready again to give battle.

The worst trouble with it was not the bleeding gap torn through its ranks by Lee\'s shot and shell. Not only was its body wounded, its soul was crushed. Its commanding generals were divided into warring factions, the rank and file of its stern fighting men discouraged.

Again an epidemic of desertions broke out and ten thousand men were lost in a single month.

Burnside assumed the full responsibility for the disaster and asked to be relieved of his command. The third union General had gone down before Lee—McClellan, Pope and Burnside.

The President, heartsick but undismayed, called to the head of the army the most promising general in sight, Joseph Hooker, popularly known as "Fighting Joe Hooker." There was inspiration to the thoughtless in the name, yet the Chief had misgivings.

On sending him the appointment he wrote his new general a remarkable letter:

"General:

"I have placed you at the head of the Army of the Potomac. Of course, I have done this upon what appears to me to be sufficient reasons; and yet I think it best for you to know that there are some things in regard to which I am not quite satisfied with you.

"I believe you to be a brave and skillful soldier—which of course I like. I also believe you do not mix politics with your profession—in which you are right. You have confidence in yourself—which is a valuable if not indispensable quality. You are ambitious—which within reasonable bounds does good rather than harm; but I think that during General Burnside\'s command of the army you have taken counsel of your ambition and thwarted him as much as you could, in which you did a great wrong to the country, and to a most meritorious and honorable brother officer.

"I have heard in such a way as to believe of you recently saying that both the army and the Government needed a dictator. Of course it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I gave you the command. Only those generals who gain successes can set up as dictators.

"What I now ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dictatorship.

"The Government will support you to the utmost of its ability—which is neither more nor less than it has done and will do for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to infuse into the army of criticising their commander and withholding confidence from him, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you as far as I can to put it down. Neither you nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, could get any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails in it.

"And now beware of rashness—but with energy and sleepless vigilance go forward and give us victories."

While Hooker lay in winter quarters reorganizing his army his picket lines in speaking distance with those of his opponent across the river, the President bent his strong shoulders to the task of cheering the fainting spirits of the people. On his shaggy head was heaped the blame of all the sorrows, the failures and the agony of the ever deepening tragedy of war. Deeper and deeper into his rugged kindly face were cut the lines of life and death, and darker grew the shadows through which his sensitive lonely soul was called to walk.

And yet, through it all, there glowed with stronger radiance the charm of his quaint genius and his magnetic personality—tragic, homely, gentle, humorous, honest, merciful, wise, laughable and lovable.

He found time to run down to Hampton Roads with Gideon Welles, his loyal Secretary of the Navy, to inspect the ships assembled there. He saw a narrow door bound with iron.

"What is that?" he asked sharply.

"Oh, that is the sweat box," the Secretary replied, "used for insubordinate seamen——"

"Oh," the rugged giant exclaimed, "how do you work it?"

"The man to be punished is put inside and steam heat is turned on. It brings him to terms quickly."

The tall figure bent curiously examining the contrivance:

"And we apply this to thousands of brave American seamen every year?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Let me try it and see what it\'s like."

It was useless to protest. He had already taken off his tall silk hat and there was a look of quiet determination in his hazel-grey eyes.

He stepped quickly into the enclosure, which he found to be about three feet in length and about the same in width. His tall figure of six feet four was practically telescoped.

"Close your door now and turn on the steam," he ordered. "I\'ll give you the signal when I\'ve had enough."

The door was closed and the steam turned on.

He stood it three minutes and gave the signal of release.

He stepped out, stretched his long legs, and breathed deeply. He mopped his brow and there was fire in his sombre eyes as he turned to Welles:

"Mr. Secretary, I want every one of those things dumped into the sea. Never again allow it to be found on a vessel flying the American flag!"

In a............