Representatives from East Tennessee, where nearly the entire population
were loyal to the Union. One of the motives of the President in planning
this campaign was to protect them from the raids of the Confederate
cavalry. The Congressmen who heard him, however, were determined to
gratify the public demand for an assault upon Richmond. All eyes were
upon the Army of the Potomac, and it was popularly believed that if an
assault were made and the Confederate capital captured, the rebellion
would be promptly crushed. The President then undertook to carry out his
plan with the forces at his disposal, but General Buell was too stubborn
and too slow, either refusing to carry out his orders or wasting his
time and strength in arguments against the practicability of the plan.
If the same time, money, and military strength that were expended in
his attempted march from Corinth to East Tennessee during the following
summer had been devoted to the construction of a railroad, as proposed
by the President, the entire situation in the Mississippi Valley would
have been changed, and the battles which made Grant, Thomas, and Sherman
famous would never have been fought. This is the opinion of the military
experts after a quarter of a century of controversy, and the longer the
subject is discussed the more firmly established is the verdict in favor
of the wisdom and practicability of Lincoln's plan.
General McClellan was not the only military commander to annoy and
perplex the President by procrastination and argument. The official
records of the war at this time are filled with letters and telegrams
addressed by Lincoln to Buell and Halleck, appealing to them to
obey his orders and move towards the enemy. Buell kept promising to
do so, but his delay was exasperating, and, differing in opinion
from his superiors, he was, like McClellan, continually guilty of
insubordination. Halleck, who was considered one of the ablest and
best-equipped officers in the Union army, and was intended to be the
successor of General Scott, was equally dilatory, although he had a
better excuse, because, when he assumed command at St. Louis, succeeding
General Frémont, he found the whole department in a deplorable
condition, and was working with great energy and ability to organize
and equip an army for the field. It is undoubtedly the case that both
Buell and Halleck lacked confidence in the President's military capacity
and placed a higher value upon their own judgment; but, whether the
President realized this or not, he laid out the plan of a campaign and
gave orders to both generals to co-operate in a joint land and river
expedition up the Tennessee or Cumberland River. Neither made the
slightest preparation for it or communicated with each other on the
subject,--an act of insubordination that would not have been tolerated
in any other country in the world. Then, when the President began to
press his generals, Halleck excused himself for refusing to carry out
his orders on the ground that it was bad strategy, and Buell made no
reply whatever.
The patience of the President seemed inexhaustible. He kept his temper,
and finally persuaded General Halleck to make a demonstration, which
resulted in the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson and the famous
campaign of General Grant in the early spring of 1862. The results of
that campaign might have been much more conclusive had General Buell
obeyed orders and responded to the appeals of General Halleck for
assistance and to the President's orders for him to co-operate. Lincoln
watched every step of the march with anxious interest, and his telegrams
show that he anticipated Grant's movements with remarkable accuracy. His
suggestions show how familiar he was with the country and the location
of the Confederate forces. One of his telegrams to Halleck illustrates
his knowledge of detail. It reads,--
"You have Fort Donelson safe, unless Grant shall be overwhelmed from
outside; to prevent which latter will, I think, require all the
vigilance, energy, and skill of yourself and Buell, acting in full
co-operation. Columbus will not get at Grant, but the force from Bowling
Green will. They hold the railroad from Bowling Green to within a few
miles of Fort Donelson, with the bridge at Clarksville undisturbed.
It is unsafe to rely that they will not dare to expose Nashville to
Buell. A small part of their force can retire slowly towards Nashville,
breaking up the railroad as they go, and keep Buell out of that city
twenty days. Meantime, Nashville will be abundantly defended by forces
from all south and perhaps from here at Manassas. Could not a cavalry
force from General Thomas on the upper Cumberland dash across, almost
unresisted, and cut the railroad at or near Knoxville, Tennessee? In
the midst of a bombardment at Fort Donelson, why could not a gunboat
run up and destroy the bridge at Clarksville? Our success or failure at
Fort Donelson is vastly important, and I beg you to put your soul in the
effort. I send a copy of this to Buell."
Imagine his sensations when he received a reply from General Halleck:
"Make Buell, Grant, and Pope major-generals of volunteers and give me
command in the West. I ask this in return for Fort Henry and Donelson."
The President realized the situation, made the promotions, consolidated
the different departments west of the Blue Ridge Mountains, placed
Halleck in command, and directed him to take advantage of "the golden
opportunity;" but the latter was too deliberate, and it required only
a brief experience to demonstrate that he was unfit to command troops
in the field. He was called to Washington, placed at the head-quarters
of the army to succeed General McClellan, and Grant was left in command
of the army in Tennessee, where he undertook the task of opening the
Mississippi in his own way, having the full confidence of the President.
It is quite remarkable that from the beginning Lincoln's confidence in
Grant was firm and abiding. This may have been partly due to the strong
endorsements he had received from Representative Washburne and other
mutual friends, although Grant was not highly regarded at home at that
time, and found difficulty in obtaining a commission from the Governor
of Illinois. President Lincoln had never seen him until he came East to
take command of the army, and had heard evil as well as good reports
concerning that silent but stubborn soldier who was working his way
down the banks of the Mississippi and closing around Vicksburg. There
is no evidence, however, except his own words, that Lincoln's faith in
him was ever shaken. He gave Grant no orders, sent him no telegrams
or letters such as he had written to Halleck, Buell, Rosecrans, and
other commanders in the West, and there must have been some reason for
his not doing so. We are left only the inference that his sagacity
taught him that Grant was not a man to be interfered with; and although
his patience, like that of the rest of the country, was being sorely
tried by the lack of tangible results in the West, he waited until the
problem was worked out and then wrote Grant the following candid and
characteristic letter:
"MY DEAR GENERAL: I do not remember that you and I ever met
personally. I write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for
the almost inestimable service you have done the country. I wish
to say a word further. When you first reached the vicinity of
Vicksburg, I thought you should do what you finally did--march
the troops across the neck, run the batteries with the
transports, and thus go below; and I never had any faith, except
a general hope that you knew better than I, that the Yazoo Pass
expedition and the like could succeed. When you got below and
took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I thought you should
go down the river and join General Banks, and when you turned
northward, east of the Big Black, I feared it was a mistake. I
now wish to make the personal acknowledgment that you were right
and I was wrong."
[Illustration: Copyright, 1901, by M. P. Rice
GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT
From an original, unretouched negative made in 1864, when he was
commissioned Lieutenant-General and commander of all the armies of the
republic]
Such letters are very seldom written by the rulers of nations to the
commanders of their armies. Confirming the obligation, and as a reward
for the victories of Donelson, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga, the President
recommended the revival of the rank of lieutenant-general, which had
been conferred only upon Washington and Scott. His recommendation was
adopted by Congress, Grant was called to Washington, and at a public
reception at the White House on March 8, 1864, he met Lincoln for the
first time. On the following day he was formally invested with his new
rank and authority by the President in the presence of the Cabinet
and several civil and military officials. It was not often that such
formalities occurred at the capital of the simple republic. Lincoln was
very much averse to formalities of all kinds. His democratic spirit
led him to avoid parade, but here was an occasion which his political
instincts taught him might be used to impress the country; hence the
unusual ceremony was arranged.
General Grant did not reach Washington until the early evening of March
8, 1864, and the reception at the White House began at eight o'clock.
A message from the White House notified him that the President desired
his attendance if he was not too tired by his journey; so, immediately
after his arrival he took a hasty supper, changed his travel-worn
uniform for a fresh one, and, in company with an aide-de-camp, reached
the White House about half-past nine o'clock. The cheers that greeted
him as he was recognized by the crowd about the portico reached the
President's ears, but that was the only announcement of the approach of
the latest popular hero. General Grant took his place in line with the
other guests and slowly passed through the corridor and anteroom to the
door of the Blue Parlor where the President stood, with Mrs. Lincoln
and the ladies of the Cabinet at his side, receiving his guests and
shaking hands with them as they passed before him. He recognized Grant
without an introduction, being familiar with his portraits, and these
two remarkable men gazed into each other's eyes in an inquiring way for
a moment, while the people watched them with absorbing interest. After
exchanging the ordinary phrases of greeting, the President introduced
General Grant to Mr. Seward, and the latter led him into the East
Room, where he was received with cheer after cheer, and, blushing with
embarrassment, was compelled to stand upon a sofa where people could see
him, because he was so short of stature that he was hidden in the throng.
The President asked Grant to remain after the close of the reception,
and they had a long conference. As Grant was leaving the White House
the President explained to him the reasons for the formality that would
be observed in presenting his commission as lieutenant-general on the
following day.
"I shall make a very short speech to you," said he, "to which I desire
that you should make a brief reply for an object; and that you may be
properly prepared to do so I have written what I shall say, only four
sentences in all, which I will read from my manuscript as an example
which you may follow, and also read your reply, as you are perhaps not
so much accustomed to public speaking as I am, and I therefore give you
what I shall say so that you may consider it. There are two points that
I would like to have you make in your answer: first, to say something
which shall prevent or obviate any jealousy of you from any of the other
generals in the service; and, second, something which shall put you on
as good terms as possible with the Army of the Potomac. If you see any
objection to this, be under no restraint whatever in expressing that
objection to the Secretary of War."
General Grant and Mr. Stanton left the White House together. The next
day, at one o'clock, in presence of the Cabinet, General Halleck,
two members of Grant's staff, and the President's private secretary,
the commission of lieutenant-general was formally delivered by the
President. Mr. Lincoln said,--
"General Grant, the nation's appreciation of what you have done, and
its reliance upon you for what remains to do in the existing great
struggle, are now presented, with this commission constituting you
Lieutenant-General in the army of the United States. With this high
honor devolves upon you, also, a corresponding responsibility. As
the country herein trusts you, so, under God, it will sustain you. I
scarcely need to add that with what I here speak for the nation goes my
own hearty personal concurrence."
The general had written his speech on half of a sheet of note-paper,
in lead-pencil, but when he came to read it he was as embarrassed as
Washington was when the House of Burgesses at Williamsburg tendered him
its thanks after the Braddock campaign. He found his own writing very
difficult to read, but what he said could hardly have been improved:
"Mr. President, I accept this commission with gratitude for the high
honor conferred. With the aid of the noble armies that have fought on
so many fields for our common country, it will be my earnest endeavor
not to disappoint your expectation. I feel the full weight of the
responsibilities now devolving on me, and I know that, if they are met,
it will be due to those armies and, above all, to the favor of that
Providence which leads both nations and men."
It will be observed that Grant did not comply with the request of the
President, and his speech contains no reference to the subject to which
the President alluded on the previous evening. Grant never offered an
explanation and Lincoln never asked one. Some writers have advanced the
theory that Secretary Stanton, who often differed from the President in
regard to little matters, advised Grant not to refer to such delicate
subjects, but it is more probable that, with his distrust of politicians
and his fear of becoming complicated with them as McClellan and others
had been, the wary warrior thought it wise to be entirely non-committal.
Before leaving his head-quarters in the West, Grant had written Sherman,
"I shall say very distinctly on my arrival there [Washington] that I
shall accept no appointment which will require me to make that city my
head-quarters," and Sherman had urged him to stand by that resolution:
"Do not stay in Washington. Halleck is better qualified than you to
stand the buffets of intrigue and politics."
After the presentation ceremonies the President and Grant retired
together, and the latter inquired what was expected of him. Lincoln
answered that he was expected to take Richmond; that every one who had
tried it so far had failed, and he asked Grant point-blank if he thought
he could do it. With the same directness and simplicity Grant answered
that he could if he had the troops. The President assured him that he
should have all the troops he needed and that he would not be interfered
with in the management of the campaign. Grant himself says, "I did
not communicate my plans to the President, nor did I to the Secretary
of War, nor to General Halleck;" and the President wrote him that he
neither knew nor wished to know his plan of operations, but wanted to
tender his good wishes and promise every aid which the government could
furnish. "If the results shall be less favorable than I hope and the
government expects," he said, "the fault will not be the fault of the
administration." Under those circumstances Grant assumed command of the
army, and from that time President Lincoln felt himself relieved from
the responsibility of planning and directing military movements.
After making an inspection of the army, Grant returned to Washington,
had another conference with President Lincoln, established his
head-quarters at Culpeper, and prepared for active operations. On April
30, 1864, the President sent him the following candid letter:
"Not expecting to see you again before the spring campaign opens, I wish
to express in this way my entire satisfaction with what you have done up
to this time, so far as I understand it. The particulars of your plan I
neither know nor seek to know. You are vigilant and self-reliant; and,
pleased with this, I wish not to obtrude any constraints or restraints
upon you. While I am very anxious that any great disaster or capture of
our men in great numbers shall be avoided, I know these points are less
likely to escape your attention than they would be mine. If there is
anything wanting which is within my power to give, do not fail to let me
know it. And now, with a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain
you."
Grant's immediate reply confessed the groundlessness of his
apprehensions:
"From my first entrance into the volunteer service of the country to the
present day, I have never had cause of complaint--have never expressed
or implied a complaint against the administration, or the Secretary
of War, for throwing any embarrassment in the way of my vigorously
prosecuting what appeared to me my duty. Indeed, since the promotion
which placed me in command of all the armies, and in view of the great
responsibility and importance of success, I have been astonished at the
readiness with which everything asked for has been yielded, without even
an explanation being asked. Should my success be less than I desire and
expect, the least I can say is, the fault is not with you."
In his reminiscences, General Grant says, "Just after receiving my
commission as lieutenant-general, the President called me aside to speak
to me privately. After a brief reference to the military situation, he
said he thought he could illustrate what he wanted to say by a story,
which he related as follows: 'At one time there was a great war among
the animals, and one side had great difficulty in getting a commander
who had sufficient confidence in himself. Finally, they found a monkey,
by the name of Jocko, who said that he thought he could command their
army if his tail could be made a little longer. So they got more tail
and spliced it on to his caudal appendage. He looked at it admiringly,
and then thought he ought to have a little more still. This was added,
and again he called for more. The splicing process was repeated many
times, until they had coiled Jocko's tail around the room, filling all
the space. Still he called for more tail, and, there being no other
place to coil it, they began wrapping it around his shoulders. He
continued his call for more, and they kept on winding the additional
tail about him until its weight broke him down.' I saw the point, and,
rising from my chair, replied, 'Mr. President, I will not call for more
assistance unless I find it impossible to do with what I already have.'
"Upon one occasion," continued Grant, "when the President was at my
head-quarters at City Point, I took him to see the work that had been
done on the Dutch Gap Canal. After taking him around and showing him all
the points of interest, explaining how, in blowing up one portion of the
work that was being excavated, the explosion had thrown the material
back into, and filled up, a part already completed, he turned to me and
said, 'Grant, do you know what this reminds me of? Out in Springfield,
Illinois, there was a blacksmith named ----. One day, when he did not
have much to do, he took a piece of soft iron that had been in his shop
for some time, and for which he had no special use, and, starting up
his fire, began to heat it. When he got it hot he carried it to the
anvil and began to hammer it, rather thinking he would weld it into an
agricultural implement. He pounded away for some time until he got it
fashioned into some shape, when he discovered that the iron would not
hold out to complete the implement he had in mind. He then put it back
into the forge, heated it up again, and recommenced hammering, with an
ill-defined notion that he would make a claw hammer, but after a time he
came to the conclusion that there was more iron there than was needed
to form a hammer. Again he heated it, and thought he would make an axe.
After hammering and welding it into shape, knocking the oxidized iron
off in flakes, he concluded there was not enough of the iron left to
make an axe that would be of any use. He was now getting tired and a
little disgusted at the result of his various essays. So he filled his
forge full of coal, and, after placing the iron in the centre of the
heap, took the bellows and worked up a tremendous blast, bringing the
iron to a white heat. Then with his tongs he lifted it from the bed of
coals, and thrusting it into a tub of water near by, exclaimed with an
oath, "Well, if I can't make anything else of you, I will make a fizzle,
anyhow."'"
A friend once asked Lincoln whether the story was true that he had
inquired where General Grant got his liquor, so that he might send a
barrel to each of his other generals. Lincoln replied that the story
originated in King George's time. When General Wolfe was accused of
being mad, the King replied, "I wish he would bite some of my other
generals."
At the dedication of the Lincoln monument at Springfield, October 15,
1874, General Grant said, "From March, 1864, to the day when the hand
of the assassin opened a grave for Mr. Lincoln, then President of
the United States, my personal relations with him were as close and
intimate as the nature of our respective duties would permit. To know
him personally was to love and respect him for his great qualities
of heart and head and for his patience and patriotism. With all his
disappointments from failures on the part of those to whom he had
intrusted commands, and treachery on the part of those who had gained
his confidence but to betray it, I never heard him utter a complaint,
nor cast a censure, for bad conduct or bad faith. It was his nature
to find excuses for his adversaries. In his death the nation lost its
greatest hero; in his death the South lost its most just friend."
These relations thus established were never disturbed. Grant was
the first of all the generals in whom the President placed implicit
confidence; he was the only one with whom he seemed to feel entirely at
ease; and although their communications were frequent and voluminous,
there was seldom a difference of opinion. They contain no complaint
or reproach, but ring with mutual confidence and appreciation. Seldom
have two men of such remarkable character and ability enjoyed such
unruffled relations. Military history furnishes no similar instance.
Each seemed to measure the other at his full stature and recognize his
strength. There were many busybodies carrying tales and striving to
excite suspicion and jealousy, but their faith could not be shaken or
their confidence impaired. Lincoln's letters to Grant offer a striking
contrast to those addressed to Burnside, Hooker, McClellan, and other
commanders.
General Ambrose E. Burnside was selected to command the Army of the
Potomac after McClellan was relieved November 5, 1862. He was a
classmate and intimate friend of his predecessor, handsome, brave,
generous, and as modest as McClellan was vain. He not only did not seek
the honor, but declined it twice on the ground that he was not competent
to command so large an army, but finally accepted the responsibility
at the urgent wish of the President, and very soon demonstrated the
mistake. His career was as unfortunate as it was brief, but his manly
report of the unfortunate battle of Fredericksburg did him great credit,
for he assumed all the responsibility for the failure and said nothing
but praise of his men.
The President replied by a kind and sympathetic despatch after his
failure at Fredericksburg, and fully appreciated his situation.
"Although you were not successful," he said, "the attempt was not an
error nor the failure other than accident. The courage with which you in
an open field maintained the contest against an intrenched foe, and the
consummate skill and success with which you crossed and recrossed the
river in the face of the enemy, show that you possess all the qualities
of a great army, which will yet give victory to the cause of the country
and of popular government."
Burnside's confession of failure destroyed the confidence of the army in
him, and Burnside realized it. "Doubtless," he said, "this difference
of opinion between my general officers and myself results from a lack
of confidence in me. In this case it is highly necessary that this
army should be commanded by some other officer, to whom I will most
cheerfully give way."