army, as he had before been appointed to the same rank in the
volunteers, was placed in command of the military division of the
Mississippi. Later he defeated Bragg at Chattanooga, November 24 and 25,
1863, in the memorable battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain.
General Halleck said in his annual report, "Considering the strength of
the rebel position and the difficulty of storming his intrenchments, the
battle of Chattanooga must be considered the most remarkable in history.
Not only did the officers and men exhibit great skill and daring in
their operations on the field, but the highest praise is due to the
commanding general for his admirable dispositions for dislodging the
enemy from a position apparently impregnable."
How our brave men fought at Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain has
never been more graphically and touchingly told than by the late
lamented Benjamin F. Taylor: "They dash out a little way and then
slacken; they creep up hand over hand, loading and firing, and wavering
and halting, from the first line of works to the second; they burst into
a charge, with a cheer, and go over it. Sheets of flame baptize them;
plunging shots tear away comrades on left and right; it is no longer
shoulder to shoulder; it is God for us all! Under tree-trunks, among
rocks, stumbling over the dead, struggling with the living, facing the
steady fire of eight thousand infantry poured down upon their heads as
if it were the old historic curse from heaven, they wrestle with the
Ridge. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes go by, like a reluctant century. The
batteries roll like a drum. Between the second and last lines of rebel
works is the torrid zone of the battle. The hill sways up like a wall
before them at an angle of forty-five degrees, but our brave
mountaineers are clambering steadily on--up--upward still!... They seem
to be spurning the dull earth under their feet, and going up to do
Homeric battle with the greater gods."
When this costly victory had been gained, President Lincoln appointed a
day of national thanksgiving. Congress passed a unanimous vote of thanks
to Grant and his officers and men, and ordered a medal to be struck in
his honor: his face on one side, surrounded by a laurel wreath; on the
other side, Fame seated on the American eagle, holding in her right hand
a scroll with the words, Corinth, Vicksburg, Mississippi River, and
Chattanooga.
Early in 1864, a distinguished honor was paid him. Since the death of
Washington, only one man had been appointed a lieutenant-general in the
army of the United States,--Winfield Scott. Congress now revived this
grade, and on March 1, 1864, Lincoln appointed Grant to this position.
On March 9, before the President and his cabinet, his commission was
formally presented to him, Lincoln saying, "As the country herein trusts
you, so, under God, it will sustain you." Grant now had all the Union
armies under his control--over seven hundred thousand men. When he was
in the Galena leather store, men said his life was a failure! Was it a
failure now? And yet he was the same modest, unostentatious man as when
he tried farming to support his beloved family.
Immediately Grant planned two great campaigns: one against Richmond,
which was defended by Lee; the other against Atlanta, under Sherman,
defended by Joseph E. Johnston. Sherman's march to the sea immortalized
him; Grant's march to Richmond was the crowning success in the greatest
of modern wars. President Lincoln reposed the utmost confidence in
Grant. He wrote him: "The particulars of your plans 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 the 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."
The end was coming. On May 4, 1864, Grant crossed the Rapidan with the
Army of the Potomac, about one hundred and twenty thousand men,
intending to put his forces between Lee and Richmond. Lee, perceiving
this design, met the army at the Wilderness, a portion of country
covered by a dense forest. The undergrowth was so heavy that it was
scarcely possible to see more than one hundred paces in any direction.
All day long, May 5, a bloody battle was waged in the woods.
Says Private Frank Wilkeson, "I heard the hum of bullets as they passed
over the low trees. Then I noticed that small limbs of trees were
falling in a feeble shower in advance of me. It was as though an army of
squirrels were at work cutting off nut and pine-cone laden branches
preparatory to laying in their winter's store of food. Then, partially
obscured by a cloud of powder smoke, I saw a straggling line of men clad
in blue. They were not standing as if on parade, but they were taking
advantage of the cover afforded by trees, and they were firing rapidly.
Their line officers were standing behind them or in line with them. The
smoke drifted to and fro, and there were many rifts in it.... We had
charged, and charged, and charged again, and had gone wild with battle
fever. We had gained about two miles of ground. We were doing
splendidly. I cast my eyes upward to see the sun, so as to judge of the
time, as I was hungry, and wanted to eat, and I saw that it was still
low above the trees. The Confederates seemed to be fighting more
stubbornly, fighting as though their battle-line was being fed with more
troops. They hung on to the ground they occupied tenaciously, and
resolutely refused to fall back further. Then came a swish of bullets
and a fierce exultant yell, as of thousands of infuriated tigers. Our
men fell by scores. Great gaps were struck in our lines. There was a
lull for an instant, and then Longstreet's men sprang to the charge. It
was swiftly and bravely made, and was within an ace of being successful.
There was great confusion in our line. The men wavered badly. They fired
wildly. They hesitated.... The regimental officers held their men as
well as they could. We could hear them close behind us, or in line with
us, saying, 'Steady, men, steady, steady, steady!' as one speaks to
frightened and excited horses."
Grant says, "More desperate fighting has not been witnessed on this
continent than that of May 5 and 6.... The ground fought over had varied
in width, but averaged three-quarters of a mile. The killed and many of
the severely wounded of both armies lay within this belt where it was
impossible to reach them. The woods were set on fire by the bursting
shells, and the conflagration raged. The wounded who had not strength to
move themselves were either suffocated or burned to death. Finally the
fire communicated with our breastworks in places. Being constructed of
wood, they burned with great fury. But the battle still raged, our men
firing through the flames until it became too hot to remain longer."
After a loss of from fourteen to fifteen thousand men on each side, Lee
remained in his intrenchments and Grant still moved on toward Richmond.
The armies met at Spottsylvania Court-House, and here was fought one of
the bloodiest battles of the war, with about the same loss as in the
Wilderness. Sometimes the conflict was hand to hand, men using their
guns as clubs, being too close to fire. In one place a tree, eighteen
inches in diameter, was cut entirely down by musket balls. Grant wrote
to Washington, May 11: "We have now ended the sixth day of very hard
fighting. The result up to this time is much in our favor. But our
losses have been heavy, as well as those of the enemy. We have lost to
this time eleven general officers killed, wounded, and missing, and
probably twenty thousand men. I think the loss of the enemy must be
greater. We have taken over four thousand prisoners in battle, whilst he
has taken from us but few except a few stragglers. I am now sending
back to Belle Plain all my wagons for a fresh supply of provisions and
ammunition, and purpose _to fight it out on this line if it takes all
summer_."
After this came the battles of Drury's Bluff, North Anna, Totopotomoy,
and Cold Harbor, with its brilliant assault and deadly repulse, with a
loss of from ten to fourteen thousand men on the latter field.
Lee had now been driven so near to Richmond, and the swamps of the
Chickahominy were so impassable, that Grant determined to move his army,
one hundred and fifteen thousand men, south of the James River and
attack Richmond in the rear. The move was hazardous, but he reached City
Point safely. General Butler here joined him, and the siege of
Petersburg, twenty miles below Richmond, began, and was continued
through the winter and spring.
On July 30, 1864, a mine was exploded under one of the enemy's forts.
The gallery to the mine was over five hundred feet long from where it
entered the ground to the point where it was under the enemy's works.
Eight chambers had been left, requiring a ton of powder each to charge
them. It exploded at five o'clock in the morning, making a crater twenty
feet deep and about one hundred feet in length. Instantly one hundred
and ten cannon and fifty mortars commenced work to cover our troops as
they entered the enemy's lines. "The effort," says Grant, "was a
stupendous failure. It cost us about four thousand men, mostly,
however, captured, and all due to inefficiency on the part of the corps
commander and the incompetency of the division commander who was sent to
lead the assault."
Meanwhile Sheridan had destroyed the power of the South in the
Shenandoah valley. Again the army began its march toward Richmond. On
April 1, 1865, the battle of Five Forks was fought, nearly six thousand
Confederates being taken prisoners; then Petersburg was captured, and on
April 3 General Weitzel took possession of Richmond, the enemy having
evacuated it, the city having been set on fire before their departure.
For five days Lee's army was pursued with more or less fighting. On
April 7, Grant wrote a letter to Lee, saying: "The results of the last
week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the
part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it
is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility
of any further effusion of blood, by asking of you the surrender of that
portion of the Confederate States Army known as the Army of Northern
Virginia."
Lee replied, "I reciprocate your desire to avoid useless effusion of
blood, and therefore, before considering your proposition, ask the terms
you will offer on condition of its surrender."
The answer came: "Peace being my great desire, there is but one
condition I would insist upon, namely: that the men and officers
surrendered shall be disqualified for taking up arms again against the
government of the United States, until properly exchanged."
A place of meeting was designated, and on April 9 Grant and Lee met at
the house of a Mr. McLean, at Appomattox Court-House. Grant says, "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, and 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 travelling 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."
When the terms of surrender were completed, Lee remarked that his men
had been living for some days on parched corn exclusively, and asked for
rations and forage, which were cordially granted. "When news of the
surrender first reached our lines," says Grant, "our men commenced
firing a salute of a hundred guns in honor of the victory. I at once
sent word, however, to have it stopped. The Confederates were now our
prisoners, and we did not want to exult over their downfall." True and
noble spirit! Twenty-seven thousand five hundred and sixteen officers
and men were paroled at Appomattox. At the North, crowds came together
to pray and give thanks, in the churches, that the war was over.
Mourning garb seemed to be in every house, and the joy was sanctified by
tears. The Army of the Potomac marched to Washington, and was disbanded
June 30.
The great war was ended. In July, 1866, Congress created the rank of
general for the heroic, true-hearted, grand man, of quiet manner but
indomitable will, who had saved the Union. He was now but forty-four
years of age, and what a record!
Two years later, in 1868, at the Chicago Republican national convention.
Grant was unanimously nominated to the presidency. After the
assassination of Lincoln, and the disagreement between Congress and
Andrew Johnson in the matter of reconstruction, it was believed that
Grant would "settle things." To the committee from the convention who
announced his nomination to him, he said, "I shall have no policy of my
own to enforce against the will of the people."
During the eight years of Grant's presidency, from 1869 to 1877, the
country was prosperous, save the financial depression of 1873. The
Alabama claims were settled, whereby our country received from Great
Britain fifteen million five hundred thousand dollars damages. Grant
favored the annexation of the island of Santo Domingo, but the measure
was defeated by Congress. The International Exposition was held in
Philadelphia in 1876, with an average daily attendance, for five months,
of over sixty-one thousand persons. While a large number of the people
advocated a third term for General Grant, a nation loving freedom
hesitated to establish such a precedent, and Rutherford B. Hayes was
chosen President. It was well, in the exciting times preceding this
election, when the number of votes for Hayes and Tilden was decided by
an electoral commission, that a strong hand was on the helm of State, to
keep the peace.
After all these years of labor, General Grant determined to make the
tour of the world, and, with his family and a few others, sailed for
Europe, May 17, 1877. From the moment they arrived on the other side of
the ocean to their return, no American ever received such an ovation as
Grant. Thousands crowded the docks at Liverpool, and the mayor gave an
address of welcome. At Manchester, ten thousand people listened to his
brief address. "As I have been aware," he said, "for years of the great
amount of your manufactures, many of which find their ultimate
destination in my own country, so I am aware that the sentiments of the
great mass of the people of Manchester went out in sympathy to that
country during the mighty struggle in which it fell to my lot to take
some humble part."
In London, the present Duke of Wellington gave him a grand banquet at
Apsley House. At Marlborough House, the Prince of Wales gave him private
audience. The freedom of the city of London was presented to him in a
gold casket, supported by golden American eagles, standing on a velvet
plinth decorated with stars and stripes. He and his family dined with
the Queen, at Windsor Castle.
In Scotland, the freedom of the city of Edinburgh was conferred upon
him. At a grand ovation at Newcastle, between forty and fifty thousand
people were gathered on the moor to see the illustrious general. To the
International Arbitration Union in Birmingham he said, "Nothing would
afford me greater happiness than to know, as I believe will be the case,
that at some future day the nations of the earth will agree upon some
sort of congress which shall take cognizance of international questions
of difficulty, and whose decisions will be as binding as the decision of
our Supreme Court is binding upon us." In Belgium, the king called upon
him, and gave a royal banquet in his honor. In Berlin, Bismarck called
twice to see him, shaking hands cordially, and saying, "Glad to welcome
General Grant to Germany." In Turkey, he was presented with some
beautiful Arabian horses by the Sultan. King Humbert of Italy and the
Czar of Russia showed him marked attentions. In Norway and Sweden,
Spain, China, Egypt, and India, he was everywhere received as the most
distinguished general of the age.
On his return to America, at San Francisco and Sacramento, thousands
gathered to see him. At Chicago, he said, in addressing the Army of the
Tennessee, "Let us be true to ourselves, avoid all bitterness and
ill-feeling, either on the part of sections or parties toward each
other, and we need have no fear in future of maintaining the stand we
have taken among nations, so far as opposition from foreign nations
goes." In Philadelphia, where he was royally entertained by his friend
Mr. George W. Childs, he said to the Grand Army of the Republic, "What I
want to impress upon you is that you have a country to be proud of, and
a country to fight for, and a country to die for if need be.... In no
other country is the young and energetic man given such a chance by
industry and frugality to acquire a competence for himself and family as
in America. Abroad it is difficult for the poor man to make his way at
all. All that is necessary is to know this in order that we may become
better citizens." On his return to New York, he was presented by his
friends with a home in that city, and also with the gift of two hundred
and fifty thousand dollars.
He was soon prevailed upon to enter a banking firm with Ferdinand Ward
and James D. Fish. The bank failed, Grant found himself financially
ruined, and the two partners were sent to prison. He was now to struggle
again for a living, as in the early days in the Galena leather store. A
timely offer came from the _Century_ magazine, to write his experiences
in the Civil War. Very simply, so that an uneducated person could
understand, Grant modestly and fairly described the great battles in
which he was of necessity the central figure. Unused to literary labor,
he bent himself to the task, working seven and eight hours a day.
On October 22, 1884, cancer developed in the throat, and for nine months
Grant fought with death, till the two great volumes of his memoirs could
be completed and given to the world, that his family might not be left
dependent. Early in June, 1885, as he was failing rapidly, he was taken
to Mt. McGregor, near Saratoga, where a cottage had been offered him by
Mr. Joseph W. Drexel. He worked now more heroically than ever, till the
last page was written, with the words: "The war has made us a nation of
great power and intelligence. We have but little to do to preserve
peace, happiness, and prosperity at home, and the respect of other
nations. Our experience ought to teach us the necessity of the first;
our power secures the latter.
"I feel that we are on the eve of a new era, when there is to be great
harmony between the Federal and Confederate. I cannot stay to be a
living witness to the correctness of this prophecy; but I feel it within
me that it is to be so. The universally kind feeling expressed for me at
a time when it was supposed that each day would prove my last seemed to
me the beginning of the answer to 'Let us have peace.'"
Night and day the nation watched for tidings from the bedside of the
dying hero. At last, in July, when he knew that the end was near, he
wrote an affectionate letter to the Julia Dent whom he had loved in his
early manhood, and put it in his pocket, that she might read it after
all was over. "Look after our dear children, and direct them in the
paths of rectitude. It would distress me far more to think that one of
them could depart from an honorable, upright, and virtuous life, than it
would to know that they were prostrated on a bed of sickness from which
they were never to arise alive. They have never given us any cause for
alarm on their account, and I earnestly pray they never will.
"With these few injunctions and the knowledge I have of your love and
affection, and of the dutiful affection of all our children, I bid you a
final farewell, until we meet in another, and, I trust, a better world.
You will find this on my person after my demise." Blessed home
affection, that brightens all the journey, and makes human nature
well-nigh divine!
On July 23, 1885, a few minutes before eight o'clock in the morning, the
end came. In the midst of his children, Colonel Frederick, Ulysses,
Jesse, and Nellie Grant-Sartoris, and his grandchildren, his wife
bending over him, he sank to rest. In every city and town in the land
there was genuine sorrow. Letters of sympathy came from all parts of the
world. Before the body was put in its purple casket, the eldest son
placed a plain gold ring upon the little finger of the right hand, the
gift years before of his wife, but which had grown too large for the
emaciated finger in life. In his pocket was placed a tiny package
containing a lock of Mrs. Grant's hair, in a good-bye letter. Sweet and
beautiful thought, to bury with our dead something which belongs to a
loved one, that they may not sleep entirely alone!
"We shall wake, and remember, and understand." Let the world laugh at
sentiment outwardly--the hearts of those who laugh are often hungering
for affection!
The body, dressed in citizen's clothes, without military, was laid in
the casket. Then, in the little cottage on the mountain-top, Dr. Newman,
his pastor, gave a beautiful address, from the words, "Well done, thou
good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." "His
was the genius of common-sense, enabling him to contemplate all things
in their true relations, judging what is true, useful, proper,
expedient, and to adopt the best means to accomplish the largest ends.
From this came his seriousness, thoughtfulness, penetration,
discernment, firmness, enthusiasm, triumph.... Temperate without
austerity; cautious without fear; brave without rashness; serious
without melancholy, he was cheerful without frivolity. His constancy was
not obstinacy; his adaptation was not fickleness. His hopefulness was
not utopian. His love of justice was equalled only by his delight in
compassion, and neither was sacrificed to the other.... The keenest,
closest, broadest of all observers, he was the most silent of men. He
lived within himself. His thought-life was most intense. His memory and
his imagination were picture galleries of the world and libraries of
treasured thought. He was a world to himself. His most intimate friends
knew him only in part. He was fully and best known only to the wife of
his bosom and the children of his loins. To them the man of iron will
and nerve of steel was gentle, tender, and confiding, and to them he
unfolded his beautiful religious life."