CHAPTER XXV.
Wherein Captain Galligasken follows the illustrious Soldier to Washington, where, after enduring many Hardships, he is commissioned Lieutenant General in the Army of the United States.
Grant was not ignorant of the occasion of his summons to Washington. While he had been busily engaged with the duties of his department, the people had been heaping honors upon him. Associations of all kinds, learned and philanthropic, made him an honorary member of their bodies. Ohio and New York voted him thanks in their legislatures. Gifts of every description poured in upon him—cigars and cigar cases, revolvers, books, canes, and other articles, sufficient in number to enable him to establish a private museum, if he had had any taste for "the show business." None of these articles gave him so much pleasure as a brier-wood cigar case, cut out with a pocket knife by a poor soldier, and modestly sent to him as a token of the maker's veneration and regard. A great many babies were named after him at this time, though in this respect it is doubtful whether he ever rivalled his immediate associate on the presidential ticket, the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, who has probably had more babies named after him than any other living man.
It was not safe to speak ill of Grant, so warmly was his name nestled in the hearts of the people; and no one desired to do so except the immediate friends of a few disappointed aspirants for fame on the battle-field. The leather dealer of Galena had actually become the most famous man in America. Only a short time before he went to Washington, he had been honored in the highest degree in St. Louis by the very men to whose back doors he had hauled wood only four years before! The city that "respectfully declined" his petition to be appointed an engineer was eager to give him a public reception, and did yield him all the honors within its power. In three years, by the might of his brilliant genius, he had lifted himself from obscurity to a position which challenged the gaze of the whole nation. But his had not been the struggle of ambition—only the promptings of patriotic duty. A score of more ambitious generals, fighting for a name among men, had risen and fallen during this time.
While this tempest of applause was sounding through the land, Grant was devoting all his energies to the work he had in hand, claiming no honors, asking for no preferments. But a grateful people were not satisfied. Grant was no higher in rank than others; he was in no way distinguished on the roll of the army from those whom he had outrivalled in the career of arms. Just before he had been called to Washington, the bill reviving the grade of lieutenant general in the army had passed both houses of Congress, and had been approved by the president. It was then the highest rank known in our country. The office had been created for Washington, and had been filled by him for the year preceding his death. It was then discontinued, and only conferred by brevet upon Scott in 1855. As Grant rose far above any other general in the lustre of his achievements, it was eminently proper that the distinction should be conferred upon him. He did not ask it, he did not even suggest it or hint at it.
Just before he started for Washington, he sent particular instructions to Sherman, who was then returning from his Meridian expedition, directing him to have his army in readiness for a movement upon Atlanta in the spring, which he expected to conduct in person. With these orders he sent a private letter to his devoted friend, which is too perfect an exponent of the man to be omitted:—
"Dear Sherman: The bill reviving the grade of lieutenant general in the army has become a law, and my name has been sent to the Senate for the place. I now receive orders to report at Washington immediately, in person, which indicates a confirmation, or a likelihood of confirmation. I start in the morning to comply with the order.
"Whilst I have been eminently successful in this war, in at least gaining the confidence of the public, no one feels more than I how much of this success is due to the energy, skill, and harmonious putting forth of that energy and skill, of those whom it has been my good fortune to have occupying subordinate positions under me.
"There are many officers to whom these remarks are applicable in a greater or less degree, proportionate to their ability as soldiers; but what I want is, to express my thanks to you and McPherson, as the men to whom, above all others, I feel indebted for whatever I have had of success.
"How far your advice and assistance have been of help to me, you know. How far your execution of whatever has been given to you to do entitles you to the reward I am receiving, you cannot know as well as I.
"I feel all the gratitude this letter would express, giving it the most flattering construction.
"The word you I use in the plural, intending it for McPherson also. I should write to him, and will some day; but, starting in the morning, I do not know that I shall find time just now.
Your friend,
U.S. Grant, Major General."
I doubt whether a brighter illustration of pure magnanimity can be found in the annals of great men throughout all time and all nations than the spirit manifested by Grant in this letter. I regard him as more truly great in this exhibition of an excellent tone of mind than in even the glorious victories he won; for the most brilliant conquest in the field, without a noble spirit in the hero, only confers partial greatness. I have before said, in speaking of Grant as we saw him at West Point, that he was careful of the rights of others—the sublimest interpretation of the golden rule of Jesus Christ. At the moment when we find the illustrious soldier called to the capital to receive the real laurel he had nobly earned, he seems to pause and ask himself if he is not going to take the reward which in part belongs to others. On the night before he starts, he writes this splendid acknowledgment of his indebtedness to the two veterans who had so devotedly sustained him in his trying campaigns and in the actual shock of battle.
Sherman's letter in reply contains a tried soldier's estimate of Grant. His language is carefully guarded from exaggeration, and I have no hesitation in declaring that he might have made it even stronger, without doing violence to the truth, even in the era of Chattanooga. While I feel that my humble office as a chronicler of the events of a sublime life is overshadowed when such a man as Sherman speaks, justice to the reader compels me to insert the veteran's letter in my work, for his words carry an influence even beyond the inherent truth he utters.
"Dear General: I have your more than kind and characteristic letter of the 4th instant. I will send a copy to General McPherson at once. You do yourself injustice in assigning to us too large a share of the merits which have led to your high advancement. I know you approve the friendship I have ever professed to you, and will permit me to continue, as heretofore, to manifest it on all proper occasions.
"You are now Washington's legitimate successor, and occupy a position of almost dangerous elevation; but if you can continue, as heretofore, to be yourself,—simple, honest, and unpretending,—you will enjoy through life the respect and love of friends, and the homage of millions of human beings, that will award you a large share in securing to them and their descendants a government of law and stability.
"I repeat, you do General McPherson and myself too much honor. At Belmont you manifested your traits, neither of us being near. At Donelson, also, you illustrated your whole character. I was not near, and General McPherson in too subordinate a capacity to influence you.
"Until you had won Donelson, I confess I was almost cowed by the terrible array of anarchical elements that presented themselves at every point; but that admitted a ray of light I have followed since.
"I believe you are as brave, patriotic, and just, as the great prototype, Washington; as unselfish, kind-hearted, and honest as man should be. But the chief characteristic is the simple faith in success you have always manifested, which I can liken to nothing else than the faith a Christian has in his Savior.
"This faith gave you victory at Shiloh and Vicksburg. Also, when you have completed your preparations, you go into battle without hesitation, as at Chattanooga—no doubts, no reserves; and I tell you it was this that made us act with confidence. I knew, wherever I was, that you thought of me, and if I got in a tight place, you would help me, if alive.
"My only point of doubt was in your knowledge of grand strategy, and of books of science and history; but I confess your common sense seems to have supplied all these.
"Now as to the future. Do not stay in Washington; come west; take to yourself the whole Mississippi Valley. Let us make it dead sure, and I tell you the Atlantic slopes and the Pacific shores will follow its destiny, as sure as the limbs of a tree live and die with the main trunk. We have done much, but still much remains. Time and time's influence are with us. We could almost afford to sit still and let these influences work.
"Here lies the seat of the coming empire; and from the West, when our task is done, we will make short work of Charleston and Richmond, and the impoverished coast of the Atlantic.
Your sincere friend,
W.T. Sherman.
With no trumpet blast to herald his coming, Grant went on his way to Washington, travelling in haste, and mostly by special trains. He courted and sought privacy; but when it was discovered at the railroad stations that he was on the train, the people lustily cheered him, and crowded forward to obtain a sight of the great man of whom all had heard, but whom few had seen. He had never made a "progress" after any of his victories. Even the president had never seen him. He was well known to the soldiers, hardly at all to the civilians.
On his journey he received a telegram from General Halleck, so magnanimous in its tone as to leave not a doubt that the general-in-chief had been born into a new life. Grant was to displace him, but Halleck behaved handsomely; and in his generous appreciation of the illustrious soldier, I shall forever forget that he had ever snubbed and disgraced a greater than himself. The despatch was as follows: "The secretary of war directs me to say that your commission as lieutenant general is signed, and will be delivered to you on your arrival at the War Department. I sincerely congratulate you on this recognition of your distinguished and meritorious services."
On his arrival at the capital of the nation, where he had never spent more than a single day before, he proceeded quietly to Willard's with his son, who accompanied him on the journey. Singular as it may seem, he was not discovered. A vainer man than he would have been disgusted; but Grant so far sympathized with the rebels that he only wished to be "let alone." Without parade or ostentation, he went to the public table to dinner. Here, unfortunately for him, but to the great delight of the guests of the hotel, the secret came out. A member of Congress who was at the table recognized him, and, rising, he announced, to the dismay of Grant, we may well believe, "Gentlemen, the hero of Vicksburg is among us!" The congressman proposed his health, and this was the signal for the most enthusiastic cheering that ever greeted a laurelled hero coming home from the conquest. Grant rose from his chair, and merely bowed his acknowledgments, resuming his seat at the earliest practicable moment; for such a situation was as much worse than the bull-dog guns of Vicksburg as anything he could imagine. He was really a modest man; his conduct was not a Uriah Heep's affectation of humility. He was not insensible to the good opinion of the people, but the extravagant manifestation of it which obtains with our over-demonstrative countrymen was painfully embarrassing to him.
At Vicksburg Grant personally superintended the placing in position of a number of heavy guns. While the soldiers were digging out the embrasure, he stood on the top of the works, smoking his cigar, and coolly whittling a stick—the general inherits the pure tendencies of a New England Yankee from his ancestors. In this situation he was a conspicuous mark for rebel sharp-shooters, but he staid there till the guns were placed to his satisfaction, to the intense admiration of the men, who delight in exhibitions of pluck. I am of the opinion, if Grant had been whittling a stick when he was discovered and applauded at Willard's, he would have cut his fingers; for he is never intimidated except under the fire of a popular demonstration. I declare, upon my honor as a soldier and an historian, that Grant is not indifferent to the praise or blame of his fellow-citizens. I know that he is as keenly sensitive as any man living, though his will enables him to control his emotions. I have myself seen him under a fire of compliments, and studied the expression of his face. He is simply modest, even to diffidence. I never saw another man just like him in this respect. There is nothing awkward or repulsive in his manner.
For my own part, I do not see how any man, whatever big thing he has done, can stand still and take the most extravagant compliments as a matter of course; and of all the great men I ever knew in public life,—and I have known many,—I have been better satisfied with Grant's conduct, in the hour of his triumph, than with that of any other. I cannot describe his mien or manner, because it is indescribable. Kind words move him, and I have seen the glow upon his face, hardly perceptible, it is true, but still there, indicating true greatness of soul, in that he was not "puffed up," or, even worse, was not insensible.
Grant was beset with admirers; but when I consider the quality of a large portion of the crowd which gathers in any public place within the limits of the national capital,—the parasites and sycophants who strive to sun themselves in the smile of a great man,—I cannot wonder that Grant did not open his mouth to speak, even to thank the multitude for their kind appreciation. They beset him behind and before; and a man who could not make a speech on such an occasion was a miracle. "Silence was golden." With great difficulty could he make his way to his private room, where he sought shelter from the onslaught of admirers.
In the evening he went to the White House, to attend President Lincoln's levee. The enthusiasm of the people was tremendous. Poor Grant was never in such a strait in his life. His particular horror seems to have been completely realized on this occasion, and though it was, doubtless, one of the proudest moments of his life, it was at the same time one of the most harassing and discouraging; for the unfortunate general was actually lifted from his feet, and compelled to stand upon a sofa, where all in the room could see him. Cheer after cheer shook the walls of the house, in which President Lincoln heartily joined, standing by the side of the hero, and magnanimously sustaining him in the hour of his greatest trial, as he had at Vicksburg and Chattanooga. In the course of the evening, Grant escorted Mrs. Lincoln around the East Room, and afterwards remarked that "this was his warmest campaign during the whole war."
I heartily sympathize with the sorely-pestered conqueror in what to other men would have been the realization of the acme of human bliss. He blushed and struggled against the awful storm of applause, but he did not do a single ridiculous thing. It was a time when almost any man could have been forgiven for making a fool of himself; but Grant had no vanity to triumph over him in the hour of temptation, and he came out of it as clean and bright as he went in. What is true of him on this specific occasion is equally true of him in all his career. He was no more spoiled by prosperity than by adversity; and the former is infinitely more destructive to public men than the latter. As my late friend A. Ward said of G. Washington, U.S. Grant "never slopped over."
"I hope to get away from Washington soon, for I am tired of the show business already," said the persecuted hero to a friend, as they returned from the levee.
The show business! Shades of the over-flattered heroes of all time, could it be possible that this man had reached an elevation so sublime as to call the sweet savor of approbation by such a name! Others have toiled and struggled for a lifetime to win such a recognition of their greatness, but Grant wished to avoid it! The Rebellion was not yet conquered. On the morrow he was to receive his commission as lieutenant general, and all the armies of the United States were to be placed under his command. He was an earnest man, and his whole being was filled with a sense of the responsibility he was to assume. The destiny of a nation seemed to be placed upon his shoulders; and what wonder was it that he regarded mere applause as distasteful?
I almost tremble as I approach a scene which only the pencil of the artist can fitly describe. In the chamber of the cabinet were gathered, on the 9th of March, the president, the members of the cabinet, and General Halleck, representing the government. General Grant, attended by two members of his staff and his oldest son, was formally received by the president, who addressed the illustrious soldier as follows:—
"General Grant: The nation's appreciation of what you have done, and its reliance upon you for what remains 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."
Lieutenant General Grant accepted the commission, and then read his written reply:—
"Mr. President: I accept the commission with gratitude for the honor conferred. With the aid of the noble armies that have fought in so many fields for our common country, it will be my earnest endeavor not to disappoint your expectations. 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 the Providence which leads both nations and men."
At last the army of the United States, now numbering eight hundred thousand men, had found its true leader, and Grant had found his true position.