awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made on learning that the
4th Infantry had been ordered away from Jefferson Barracks. The young
lady afterwards admitted that she too, although until then she had never
looked upon me other than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to
her, had experienced a depression of spirits she could not account for
when the regiment left. Before separating, it was definitely understood
that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not let the
removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May 1844. It was the 22d
of August, 1848, before the fulfillment of this agreement. My duties
kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with the Army of Observation during
the pendency of Annexation; and afterwards I was absent through the war
with Mexico provoked by the action of the army, if not by the annexation
itself. During that time there was a constant correspondence between
Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of four years
and three months. In May 1845 I procured a leave for twenty days,
visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of the parents for the
union, which had not been asked for before.
A TEXAN EXPERIENCE
From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
I had never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever gone in
search of game, and rarely seen any when looking for it. On this trip
there was no minute of time while traveling between San Patricio and the
settlements on the San Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin, and
again from the Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or
antelope could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a
shotgun, and every evening after going into camp, some would go out and
soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for the entire camp. I
however never went out, and had no occasion to fire my gun; except,
being detained over a day at Goliad, Benjamin and I concluded to go down
to the creek--which was fringed with timber, much of it the pecan--and
bring back a few turkeys. We had scarcely reached the edge of the timber
when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an instant I saw two
or three turkeys flying away. These were soon followed by more, then
more and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty had left from just over
my head. All this time I stood watching the turkeys to see where they
flew, with my gun on my shoulder, and never once thought of leveling it
at the birds. When I had time to reflect upon the matter, I came to the
conclusion that as a sportsman I was a failure, and went back to the
house. Benjamin remained out, and got as many turkeys as he wanted to
carry back.
After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to make the
remainder of the journey alone. We reached Corpus Christi just in time
to avoid "absence without leave." We met no one, not even an Indian,
during the remainder of our journey, except at San Patricio. A new
settlement had been started there in our absence of three weeks, induced
possibly by the fact that there were houses already built, while the
proximity of troops gave protection against the Indians. On the evening
of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly howling of
wolves, directly in our front. The prairie grass was tall and we could
not see the beasts, but the sound indicated that they were near. To my
ear it appeared that there must have been enough of them to devour our
party, horses and all, at a single meal. The part of Ohio that I hailed
from was not thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before
I left. Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the wolf
yet roamed over the prairies. He understood the nature of the animal,
and the capacity of a few to make believe there was an unlimited number
of them. He kept on towards the noise, unmoved. I followed in his trail,
lacking moral courage to turn back and join our sick companion. I have
no doubt that if Benjamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I would not
only have "seconded the motion," but have suggested that it was very
hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first place; but
Benjamin did not propose turning back. When he did speak it was to ask,
"Grant, how many wolves do you think there are in that pack?" Knowing
where he was from, and suspecting that he thought I would overestimate
the number, I determined to show my acquaintance with the animal by
putting the estimate below what possibly could be correct, and answered,
"Oh, about twenty," very indifferently. He smiled and rode on. In a
minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us. There were just
_two_ of them. Seated upon their haunches, with their mouths close
together, they had made all the noise we had been hearing for the past
ten minutes. I have often thought of this incident since, when I have
heard the noise of a few disappointed politicians who had deserted their
associates. There are always more of them before they are counted.
THE SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE
From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
Wars produce many stories of fiction, some of which are told until they
are believed to be true. The War of the Rebellion was no exception to
this rule, and the story of the apple-tree is one of those fictions
based on a slight foundation of fact. As I have said, there was an apple
orchard on the side of the hill occupied by the Confederate forces.
Running diagonally up the hill was a wagon road, which at one point ran
very near one of the trees, so that the wheels of vehicles had on that
side cut off the roots of this tree, leaving a little embankment.
General Babcock, of my staff, reported to me that when he first met
General Lee he was sitting upon this embankment with his feet in the
road below and his back resting against the tree. The story had no other
foundation than that. Like many other stories, it would be very good if
it was only true.
I had known General Lee in the old army, and had served with him in the
Mexican War: but did not suppose, owing to the difference in our age and
rank, that he would remember me; while I would more naturally remember
him distinctly, because he was the chief of staff of General Scott in
the Mexican War.
When I had left camp that morning I had not expected so soon the result
that was then taking place, and consequently was in rough garb. I was
without a sword, as I usually was when on horseback on the field, and
wore a soldier's blouse for a coat, with the shoulder-straps of my rank
to indicate to the army who I was. When I went into the house I found
General Lee. We greeted each other, and after shaking hands took our
seats. I had my staff with me, a good portion of whom were in the room
during the whole of the interview.
What General Lee's feelings were I do not know. As he was a man of much
dignity, with an impassible face, it was impossible to say whether he
felt inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt sad over the
result and was too manly to show it. Whatever his feelings, they were
entirely concealed from my observation; but my own feelings, which had
been quite jubilant on the receipt of his letter, were sad and
depressed. I felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfall of
a foe who had fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so much for
a cause,--though that cause was, I believe, one of the worst for which a
people ever fought, and one for which there was the least excuse. I do
not question, however, the sincerity of the great mass of those who were
opposed to us.
General Lee was dressed in a full uniform which was entirely new, and
was wearing a sword of considerable value, very likely the sword which
had been presented by the State of Virginia; at all events, it was an
entirely different sword from the one that would ordinarily be worn in
the field. In my rough traveling suit, the uniform of a private with the
straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have contrasted very strangely
with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high and of faultless form.
But this was not a matter that I thought of until afterwards.
We soon fell into a conversation about old army times. He remarked that
he remembered me very well in the old army; and I told him that as a
matter of course I remembered him perfectly, but from the difference in
our rank and years (there being about sixteen years' difference in our
ages), I had thought it very likely that I had not attracted his
attention sufficiently to be remembered by him after such a long
interval. Our conversation grew so pleasant that I almost forgot the
object of our meeting. After the conversation had run on in this style
for some time, General Lee called my attention to the object of our
meeting, and said that he had asked for this interview for the purpose
of getting from me the terms I proposed to give his army. I said that I
meant merely that his army should lay down their arms, not to take them
up again during the continuance of the war unless duly and properly
exchanged. He said that he had so understood my letter.
Then we gradually fell off again into conversation about matters foreign
to the subject which had brought us together. This continued for some
little time, when General Lee again interrupted the course of the
conversation by suggesting that the terms I had proposed to give his
army ought to be written out. I called to General Parker, secretary on
my staff, for writing materials, and commenced writing out the following
terms:--
APPOMATTOX C. H., VA., April 9th, 1865.
_Gen. R. E. Lee, Comd'g C. S. A._
GEN.:--In accordance with the substance of my letter to you
of the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the
Army of N. Va. on the following terms, to wit: Rolls of all
the officers and men to be made in duplicate. One copy to be
given to an officer designated by me, the other to be
retained by such officer or officers as you may designate.
The officers to give their individual paroles not to take up
arms against the Government of the United States until
properly exchanged, and each company or regimental commander
sign a like parole for the men of their commands. The arms,
artillery, and public property to be parked and stacked, and
turned over to the officer appointed by me to receive them.
This will not embrace the side-arms of the officers, nor
their private horses or baggage. This done, each officer and
man will be allowed to return to their homes, not to be
disturbed by United States authority so long as they observe
their paroles and the laws in force where they may reside.
Very respectfully,
U. S. GRANT,
Lt. Gen.
When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I
should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my
mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no
mistaking it. As I wrote on, the thought occurred to me that the
officers had their own private horses and effects, which were important
to them but of no value to us; also that it would be an unnecessary
humiliation to call upon them to deliver their side-arms.
No conversation, not one word, passed between General Lee and myself,
either about private property, side-arms, or kindred subjects. He
appeared to have no objections to the terms first proposed; or if he had
a point to make against them, he wished to wait until they were in
writing to make it. When he read over that part of the terms about
side-arms, horses, and private property of the officers, he
remarked--with some feeling, I thought--that this would have a happy
effect upon his army.
Then, after a little further conversation, General Lee remarked to me
again that their army was organized a little diferently from the army of
the United States (still maintaining by implication that we were two
countries); that in their army the cavalrymen and artillerists owned
their own horses: and he asked if he was to understand that the men who
so owned their horses were to be permitted to retain them. I told him
that as the terms were written they would not; that only the officers
were permitted to take their private property. He then, after reading
over the terms a second time, remarked that that was clear.
I then said to him that I thought this would be about the last battle of
the war--I sincerely hoped so; and I said further, I took it that most
of the men in the ranks were small farmers. The whole country had been
so raided by the two armies that it was doubtful whether they would be
able to put in a crop to carry themselves and their families through the
next winter without the aid of the horses they were then riding. The
United States did not want them; and I would therefore instruct the
officers I left behind to receive the paroles of his troops to let every
man of the Confederate army who claimed to own a horse or mule take the
animal to his home. Lee remarked again that this would have a happy
effect.
He then sat down and wrote out the following letter:--
HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA, April 9th, 1865.
GENERAL:--I received your letter of this date containing the
terms of the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia as
proposed by you. As they are substantially the same as those
expressed in your letter of the 8th inst., they are accepted.
I will proceed to designate the proper officers to carry the
stipulations into effect.
R. E. LEE,
General.
_Lieut.-General U. S. Grant._
While duplicates of the two letters were being made, the Union generals
present were severally presented to General Lee.
The much-talked-of surrendering of Lee's sword and my handing it back,
this and much more that has been said about it is the purest romance.
The word sword or side-arms was not mentioned by either of us until I
wrote it in the terms. There was no premeditation, and it did not occur
to me until the moment I wrote it down. If I had happened to omit it,
and General Lee had called my attention to it, I should have put it in
the terms, precisely as I acceded to the provision about the soldiers
retaining their horses.
General Lee, after all was completed and before taking his leave,
remarked that his army was in a very bad condition for want of food, and
that they were without forage; that his men had been living for some
days on parched corn exclusively, and that he would have to ask me for
rations and forage. I told him "Certainly," and asked for how many men
he wanted rations. His answer was "About twenty-five thousand"; and I
authorized him to send his own commissary and quartermaster to
Appomattox Station, two or three miles away, where he could have, out of
the trains we had stopped, all the provisions wanted. As for forage, we
had ourselves depended almost entirely upon the country for that.
Generals Gibbon, Griffin, and Merritt were designated by me to carry
into effect the paroling of Lee's troops before they should start for
their homes,--General Lee leaving Generals Longstreet, Gordon, and
Pendleton for them to confer with in order to facilitate this work. Lee
and I then separated as cordially as we had met, he returning to his own
lines, and all went into bivouac for the night at Appomattox.
HENRY GRATTAN
(1746-1820)
[Illustration: HENRY GRATTAN]
Henry Grattan, eminent among Irish orators and statesmen, was born in
Dublin, July 3d, 1746. He graduated from Trinity College in 1767, became
a law student of the Middle Temple, London, and was admitted to the bar
in 1772. He soon became drawn into open political life, entering the
Irish Parliament in 1775.
In Parliament he espoused the popular cause. His memorable displays of
oratory followed fast and plentifully. On April 19th, 1780, he attacked
the right of England to legislate for Ireland. With that address his
reputation was made. He became incessant in his efforts to remove
oppressive legislation. By his eloquence he quickened into life a
national spirit, to culminate in a convention at Dungannon on February
15th, 1782, where resolutions in favor of legislative independence were
stormily adopted. Presently, after a speech of surpassing power from
him, the Declaration of Rights Bill was passed unanimously by both
houses, with an unwilling enactment from England. The idol now of
Ireland, Grattan was voted by its Parliament a grant of L50,000 "as a
testimony of national gratitude for great national services." The next
eighteen years saw him resolute to secure for Ireland liberal laws,
greater commercial freedom, better conditions for the peasantry, the
wiping out of Parliamentary corruption, and especially the absolute
emancipation of the Roman Catholics. After the Union he lived in
retirement, devoting himself to the study of the classics and to the
education of his children until 1805. Then at the request of Fox he
entered the imperial Parliament, making his first speech in favor of
Fox's motion for a committee on the Roman Catholic Petition, an address
described as "one of the most brilliant speeches ever made within the
walls of Parliament." In 1806 he was elected a member for Dublin, which
city he represented until his decease. His last speech was made on May
5th, 1819, in favor of Roman Catholic emancipation. It is to be noted
that he was by profession and conviction a Protestant. He died in 1820.
He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near the graves of Chatham and Fox.
In spite of great natural drawbacks, Grattan achieved the highest rank
as an orator; and his passionate eloquence has rarely been equaled in
fervor and originality.
ON THE CHARACTER OF CHATHAM
The Secretary stood alone; modern degeneracy had not reached him.
Original and unaccommodating, the features of his character had the
hardihood of antiquity. His august mind overawed majesty; and one of his
sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence that he conspired
to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority. No State
chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, sank him to the vulgar
level of the great; but overbearing, persuasive, and impracticable, his
object was England, his ambition was fame. Without dividing, he
destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous.
France sank beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon,
and wielded with the other the democracy of England. The sight of his
mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England and the
present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by
which these schemes were accomplished; always seasonable, always
adequate, the suggestions of an understanding animated by order and
enlightened by prophecy.
The ordinary feelings which render life amiable and indolent were
unknown to him. No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness reached
him; but aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its
intercourse, he came occasionally into our system to counsel and to
decide. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so
authoritative astonished a corrupt age; and the treasury trembled at the
name of Pitt, through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined
indeed that she had found defects in this statesman, and talked much of
the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country and the
calamities of the enemy refuted her.
Nor were his political abilities his only talents: his eloquence was an
era in the Senate; peculiar and spontaneous, familiarly expressing
gigantic sentiments and instinctive wisdom; not like the torrent of
Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, it resembled
sometimes the thunder and sometimes the music of the spheres. He did
not, like Murray, conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety
of argumentation, nor was he, like Townshend, forever on the rack of
exertion; but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point
by flashings of the mind, which like those of his eye were felt but
could not be followed.
Upon the whole, there was something in this man that could create,
subvert, or reform: an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to
summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder and
to rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority; something
that could establish or overwhelm empires, and strike a blow in the
world which should resound throughout the universe.
OF THE INJUSTICE OF DISQUALIFICATION OF CATHOLICS
From the Speech of May 31st, 1811