ral Lee, who had invaded Pennsylvania
with an army of seventy thousand men, advanced upon the little town of
Gettysburg. Here he met and partially defeated the Federal troops
under General Meade. Meade had entrenched himself on the hill above
the town; but, though defeated, he was not dislodged. The second day a
further attack was made, and once more the Federals suffered heavy
losses. Part of their position was carried, and Lee believed that
another day would give him such a victory as would place the whole of
the Northern States with all their wealth at his feet.

It was a terrible moment for the North. The fate of the Union and of
the nation depended on that battle; and when, at the close of the
second day's struggle, the news was flashed by telegraph through the
length and breadth of the land, that Meade was again defeated, a great
gloom and sorrow hung over the Northern States. At Washington, the
Government sat in terror. In hundreds of churches and thousands of
homes throughout the land, the wives and children of the soldiers spent
the night in prayer.

At length the fateful day dawned, and the two armies met once more.
Under cover of the darkness, Meade had been quietly strengthening his
position, and when the sun rose over the camp, it was seen that once
more he was ready to face his hitherto victorious enemy.

The battle began at noon. For some time the result was uncertain.
Then for a third time the Confederates began to make headway, and it is
said that some of Lee's generals actually congratulated him upon a
final victory. But the battle was not ended.

The Federals had their backs to the wall, and the dogged determination
which is the strength and glory of the Yankee character showed itself
at last.

Again and again the best troops of the Confederate army dashed up the
slope of the low hill, only to break against the stubborn bands of men
who could die but would not be defeated. And when at length the rebels
made one more terrible rush, they were met, hurled back, broken,
beaten, and scattered, and the battle was over.

That night, the Fourth of July, the anniversary of the Declaration of
American Independence, there went up a shout through the North and East
that must have reached to heaven. Just outside the town of Richmond,
in Virginia, was a huge prison. Here some hundreds of Northern
officers, prisoners of war, were held in captivity. They had heard of
the struggle going on at Getty