As 1862 dawned it was dismal, uncertain, sobering, in both the North and South. The past year had seen much: a new nation, an engulfing war, and agony of body and spirit. And yet at the same time there was a realization that the issues had been joined and there were jobs to be done. In the South their freedom had been proclaimed; it must now be solidified by the fire of war. In the North there was a disrupted Union to be rejoined in another concept of freedom.

It was a cold, bitter winter to those in camps from northern Virginia through the Kentucky line to Cairo and beyond. For those at home things were not yet too bad in the North, except when the casualty lists came or the regiments left for the South. To those at home in the South the stark verities of the battle for their rights were impregnating the whole Confederacy. There were still songs, still rallies, still a crusade; but the glitter was dimming.

In the White House at Washington a worried Mr. Lincoln virtually had to take command of the armies, for his top general was seriously ill. Besides, George Brinton McClellan, it appeared, had accomplished little of substance in five months. In the White House at Richmond an equally worried Mr. Davis watched his armies diminish in manpower, as many went home to fix things up so they could come back in the spring. The blackade was more than paper now, its impress growing with the days. There was not enough of anything, really except valor.

It was a cold, bitter winter to those in camps from Northern Virginia through the Kentucky line to Cairo and beyond. For those at home things were not yet too bad in the North, except when the casualty lists came or the regiments left for the South. To those at home in the South the stark verities of the battle for their rights were impregnating the whole Confederacy. There were still songs, still rallies, still crusader; but the glitter was dimming.

In the White House at Washington a worried Mr. Lincoln virtually had to take command of the armies, for his top general was seriously ill. Besides, George Brinton McClellan, it appeared, had accomplished little of substance in five months. In the White House in Richmond an equally worried Mr. Davis watched his armies diminish in manpower, as many went home to fix things up so they could come back in the spring. The blockade was more than paper now, its impress growing with the days. There was not enough of anything, really, except valor.

In the North the cries of the previous fall over the failures of Northern armies to advance had increased. Mr. Lincoln had ordered his forces forward, a move to be made on or before Washington's Birthday. In the Confederacy the wintering of the armies weakened considerably, at least in Virginia, and already thin forces were spread even thinner. The South awaited another blow to its coastline from the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and a possible move from the gulf toward New Orleans or Mobile. The Kentucky line was not much of a defense at all, as had been demonstrated at Mill Springs in January. There were signs that the Federals would soon be doing things on the rivers- - the Mississippi, Tennessee and Cumberland. Expectations were not too high and doubters were many, but most confederates remained firm in their fight for freedom. During February the Atlantic Monthly printed a poem, as it often did, but this one would not be forgotten. Soon the words of Julia Ward Howe were transported into song and the "Battle Hymm of the Republic" inspired and reinspired Northern hearts. There was hope for the North that the "swift sword would become truly swift and strike home.

It was spring again, but a vastly different one from the year before. One crisis had been met--by--war--but the war itself had brought many more. In the Confederacy the outlook was distinctly bleak. When the Southerner looked out from his beleaguered nation he saw Federal armies poised in northern Virginia near Washington and at Harpers Ferry; on the Peninsula at Fort Monroe, threatening Richmond and Norfolk; in North Carolina, again threatening Virginia; at Port Royal, S.C., aiming at Savannah and Charleston; on the Gulf Coast, menacing Mobile and New Orleans; in northwestern Arkansas; on the Mississippi; and on the Cumberland and Tennessee. Along with all this there was the blockade, no longer a nuisance, but a developed danger. The defeats of the late winter, Forts Henry and Donelson, the collapse of the line in Kentucky, the loss of Roanoke Island and a sizable portion of North Carolina, retreat in Missouri, all were leaving their mark. Increased and strenuous effort had to be made if the Confederacy was to live a second year.

Northerners too, were far from optimistic. True, after long delays and much grumbling from the populace, the armies in the West were at last moving with effect, but in Virginia little that was constructive appeared to have been done. Dissatisfaction was especially high among those who desired peace above all, and among those who desired conquest and abolition of slavery. The Administration was gaining critics--civilian, political, and military--and it was becoming clear that the war would continue for quite a time.

The month opened on notes of anticipation and fear. The character of the war seemed much the same as it had been when March began. For the North, the people could see their armies advancing almost everywhere; at last offensives were under way that might capture Richmond, split the Confederacy in the West, and wound it severely elsewhere. For the South, the people could see clearly the many-pronged threat and knew something had to be done, and done quickly, to defend their nation.

In Virginia General McClellan was moving a vast army to the Peninsula, nearer Richmond. Federal soldiers stood guard at Washington, in the Shenandoah Valley and in western Virginia. In North Carolina Fort Macon was besieged and Burnside's expedition had chewed a big gap in Confederate territory. From Port Royal, South Carolina, the threat against Savannah, Georgia, was growing daily. It was hoped the forts in the delta of the Mississippi could protect New Orleans. In the far Southwest the Confederate advance had not only been stopped, but defeated. In Arkansas, too, the Southerners were falling back. On the Mississippi, Island No. 10 was under siege, and a growing Federal army deep in southern Tennessee was threatening the state of Mississippi. A bit to the east, Union activities indicated a move on Alabama and perhaps Chattanooga.

Federal armies and the Navy were still on the march, and the Confederacy was still on the defensive. The picture was growing dimmer for the struggling Southern nation as spring rolled into summer. At many points the offensives of the North were pressing home. The threat in Virginia came from the north, in the Shenandoah, and, mainly, from the Peninsula. In the West there was danger on the Mississippi from above Memphis and from the New Orleans enclave. Near northern Mississippi and in northern Alabama powerful forces were operating against the South. In North Carolina, in South Carolina, in the mountains of Tennessee, and elsewhere the pressure was being felt. Would the war end this summer? No one said much about defeat at the South, but the sickening possibility was there. Those in the North who had long agitated for action were getting it, though they were not yet satisfied that the various movements would be consummated in victory. Mr. Lincoln must get McClellan to move energetically; Halleck must do the same thing more. Otherwise there might be a slowing down of the momentum gained by the spring victories.

Summer, and the high days of military campaigning were upon the armies and the people. In the long, hot days men would be marching and fighting even more, and dying in larger numbers. The South still reeled from the blows of the spring. The Union military advances were slowing just a little at the moment. Jackson had been victorious in the Shenandoah. However, Richmond was still in danger, with a battle nearly in the outskirts, Corinth, Mississippi, was occupied by an immense Federal host, New Orleans had fallen, and the whole Mississippi River Valley was threatened. But the armies of the Confederacy was still intact, and it could be that the summer would bring better fortune.

In the North apprehension increased once more. Hallack had been slow to occupy Corinth, McClellan continually cried for more men and did little toward capturing the capital of the Confederacy. And Jackson was giving everyone quite a scare.

The war had changed sharply within a month. The string of Northern victories had ended. While the South was still in a sense at bay, there was more cause for hope. Jackson had been victorious in the Shenandoah Valley, and had build a legend. Lee had attacked on the Virginia Peninsula nearly in the shadow of the Confederate capital, and was still pushing McClellan's huge invading force back from Richmond, and the issue undecided. The guns still echoed clear to the city. In the West Farragut had not captured Vicksburg with his fleet; Halleck had not moved far from Corinth; Chattanooga had not fallen. All seemed likely possibilities in June. Charleston, South Carolina, appeared safe for the moment. McClellan was quarreling almost openly with Washington and the President; discontent among the citizens was not still. For the South there was a great deal to worry about yet, but also something to cheer about. However, the summer was fresh--a lot of fighting days lay ahead.

The midsummer breathing spell between the Seven Days and Richmond was coming to an end. McClellan was at Harrison's Landing on the James, John Pope was readying for an offensive and Lee was wondering how could he possibly face two armies at the same time. In the West the new commander U.S. Grant was planning widely scattered operations mainly in northern Mississippi. The question was could Lee with his sparse ranks defend the state of Mississippi. The makeshift ironclad Arkansas was defending Vicksburg. The Federal squadrons North and South of Vicksburg had not been successful. Buell with his Federals was not making much progress toward Chattanooga. Bragg at Chattanooga was preparing to advance into Tennessee and Kentucky. The question was whether Bragg could retake any of the Southern lands in question. Talk in the North was about the Emancipation as a part of the war effort. The South was waiting to see if France would recognize them as an independent country.

"But for your race among us there could not be war . . . . .It is better for us both, therefore to be separated."

I would save the Union. I would save it the shortest way under the Constitution. The sooner the national authority can be restored; the nearer the Union will be 'the Union as it was'. . . If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I cold save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. . .

Although Lincoln was anxious for news from the front, since recent results had not been forthcoming.  Both Presidents and the public wondered what was happening in Northern Virginia. Questions of how close to Washington was Robert E. Lee, was Pope's Army of Virginia beaten, if so how disastrous.

In Richmond there was relief that McClellan was not on the Peninsula anymore and Lee was on the move

Then the next question being asked in Richmond was, "how far could the Army of Virginia go up the Potomac?

Vicksburg was relaxing more and the threat from the North seemed less ominous as the Yankee gunboats had moved North as far as Helena and South as far as Baton Rouge leaving New Orleans

The realization that the U.S.S. Arkansas had been destroyed, the next question was how much could the Confederates do in defense of the Mississippi with such limited river power.

While Grant was still threatening northern Mississippi and Alabama, the Federals still occupied New Orleans, Bragg and Smith were moving into Tennessee and Kentucky, Smith was actually not far from Lexington, Kentucky. This would probably bring Buell's Federal command back from northern Alabama. Anxiety began to rise at Louisville among pro-unionists and hope reappeared among others who would welcome the return of the Confederates to the mid-South.

Reports of the Sioux uprising in Minnesota made the people in Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota very uneasy, as they thought that the Sioux's' uprising could possibly lead to an overall uprising by all other Indians.

In the North the word "Copperhead," whether popular or unpopular, depending on what the individual thought of the peace advocates, indicated a simmering anti-war sentiment in some circles, while the cries of the abolitionists increasingly called for action against slavery.

"In great contests each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God. Both may, but one must be wrong. God can not be for, and against the same thing at the same time."