WITH LINCOLN IN RICHMOND.
Whither now should Carleton go? There were but few fields to conquer,
for the slaveholders' rebellion was swiftly nearing its end, and
Carleton felt his work with armies and amid war would soon and happily
be over. He knew it was now time for Grant to deliver his blows, and
make the anvil at Petersburg ring. Eager to be in at the death of
treason, he hastened home, shortened his stay with wife and friends,
and hurried on to City Point. As usual, he was present in the nick of
time. He was able to write his first letter from the Army of the
Potomac, descriptive of the attack on Fort Steadman, March 25th. On
the 26th he saw again the sparkling-eyed Sheridan. Once more he began
to use his whip of scorpions upon the editors and people who were
bestowing all praises upon the Army of the West, with only criticism
or niggardly commendation for the Armies of the Potomac and the James,
with many a sneer and odious comparison. He witnessed the tremendous
attack of the rebel host upon the Ninth Corps, hearing first the
signal gun, next the rebel yell, then the rattling fire of musketry
deepening into volleys, and finally the roar of the cannonade.
Carleton, within three minutes after the firing of the first gun, took
position with his glass and note-book, upon a hill. One hundred guns
and mortars were in full play, surpassing in beauty and grandeur all
other night scenes ever witnessed by him. In some moments he could
count thirty shells at once in the air, which was filled with fiery
arcs crossing each other at all angles. Between the flaming bases, at
the muzzle and the explosion, making two ends of an arch, there were
thousands of muskets flashing over the entrenchments. Yet, despite the
awful noise and the spectacle so magnificent to the eye, there were
few men hurt within the Union lines.
After forty hours of rain, the wind blew from the northwest, and the
mud rapidly disappeared. Then Carleton began to look out for the
great event, in which such giants as Lee and Johnston on one hand, and
Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Thomas, and Hancock on the other, were to
finish the game of military mathematics which had been progressing
during four years. Carleton wrote, March 31, 1865, "How inspiring to
watch the close of such a game." He expected a great battle. "The last
flicker of a candle is sometimes its brightest flame."
He was not disappointed. On mid-afternoon of April 1st, Carleton was
at Sheridan's headquarters witnessing the battle of Five Forks, and
the awful bombardment of Saturday night. Then went out Grant's order
to "attack along the whole line." Now began the bayonet war. At 4
o'clock on that eventful Sunday, like a great tidal wave, the Union
Army rolled over the rebel entrenchments. This is the way Carleton
describes it in _Putnam's Magazine_:
"Lee attempted to retrieve the disaster on Saturday by depleting his
left and centre, to reinforce his right. Then came the order from
Grant, 'Attack vigorously all along the line.' How splendidly it was
executed! The Ninth, the Sixth, the Second, the Twenty-fourth Corps,
all went tumbling in upon the enemy's works, like breakers upon the
beach, tearing away chevaux-de-frise, rushing into the ditches,
sweeping over the embankments, and dashing through the embrasures of
the forts. In an hour the C. S. A.,--the Confederate _Slave
Argosy_,--the Ship of State launched but four years ago, which went
proudly sailing, with the death's-head and cross-bones at her truck,
on a cruise against Civilization and Christianity, hailed as a
rightful belligerent, furnished with guns, ammunition, provisions, and
all needful supplies, by England and France, was thrown a helpless
wreck upon the shores of time."
On April 2d, he wrote from Petersburg Heights telling of the movements
of Sheridan's cavalry and the Ninth, Second, and Twenty-fourth Corps.
On the 3d, he was in Richmond, writing, "There is no longer a
Confederacy."
He had been awakened by the roar of the Confederate blowing up of
ironclads in the James River. A few minutes later he was in the
Petersburg entrenchments. He rode solitary and lone from City Point
to Richmond, entering the city by the Newmarket road, and overtaking a
division of the Twenty-fifth Corps. Dismounting at the Spottswood
House, he registered his name on the hotel book, so thickly written
with the names of Confederate generals, as the first guest from a
"foreign country," the United States. The clerk bade him choose any
room, and even the whole house, adding that he would probably be
burned out in a few minutes. Parts of the city had already become a
sea of flame, but Richmond was saved, and the fire put out by Union
troops. Military order soon reigned, and plundering was stopped. He
met President Lincoln, and helped to escort him through the streets
lined with the black people whom he had set free. Later, Carleton saw
and talked with Generals Weitzel and Devens in the capitol, shaking
hands also with Admiral Farragut. From the top of the capitol
building, he reflected on the fall of Secession. He saw Libby Prison
inside and out, as well as the old slave-mart, holding the key of the
slave-pen in his hand. He has told the story of his Richmond
experiences in lectures, magazine articles, and in his book, "Freedom
Triumphant." His verbal descriptions enabled Thomas Nast to paint his
famous picture of Lincoln in Richmond.
Carleton's last letter, completing his war correspondence, is dated
April 12th, 1865. It depicts the scene of the surrender, thus
completing a series of about four hundred epistles, not counting the
ten or a dozen lost in transmission. In these he not only wrote
history and furnished material for it, but he kept in cheer the heart
of the nation.
Finally the great rebellion was crushed by the navy and army. Foote,
Farragut, Dupont, and Porter, with their men on blockade and
battle-deck duty, made possible the victories of Grant, Thomas,
Sheridan, and Sherman. Carleton as witness and historian on the ships,
in water fresh and salt, as well as in the camps and field,
appreciated both arms of the service. His letters were read by
thousands far beyond the Eastern States, and often his telegrams were
the only voice crying out of the wilderness of suspense, and first
heard at Washington and throughout the country, proclaiming victory.