On April 7, 1865, General Grant had enveloped the enemy so that he
could be assured that the rebel government, if it remained in Richmond
as the "last ditch," would be trapped. He notified the President close
by, at Petersburg, and asked what should be done in the event of the
game being bagged. The plan was, it seems, to have slain the
ex-President and his Cabinet officers in a rout, and the charge would
have been described as massacre abroad. The arbiter on this point of
anguish replied in his characteristic manner:
"I will tell you a story. There was once an Irishman, who signed the
Father Mathew's temperance pledge. But a few days afterward he became
terribly thirsty, and finally went into a familiar resort, where the
barkeeper was, at first, startled to hear him call for a 'straight'
soda. He related that he had taken the pledge, so he hinted, with an
Irishman's broadness of hint, 'you might put in some spirits
_unbeknownst_ to me!'"
(NOTE.--Another and later version--for the above was limitedly repeated
at the time with gusto and appreciation of the sublety--makes the hero
a temperance lecturer at Lincoln's father's house. This is stupid, for
Lincoln, a fervent temperance advocate, would not have decried the
apostles of the doctrine for which he was also a sufferer.)
In course of time doubt has been cast on this anecdote by reason that
the President would not have jested at such a juncture. But abundant
confirmation was forthcoming at the time. Besides, we have so grave a
general as Sherman alluding to the "Unbeknownst" in an official
document.
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