The Fateful Lightning (73 page)

Sherman’s only sticking point was his understanding that Jefferson Davis could not likely be included in any kind of general amnesty that might be afforded the Southern soldiers. He knew enough of Washington politics to know that Davis meant more to the United States government than any general or any other single part of the rebellion. It was that annoying focus on
symbols
again, something Sherman had grudgingly come to understand. The only symbol that might have more meaning to the Southern people would be in the person of Robert E. Lee. But Lee’s surrender had made that meaningless, the man more of a symbol now of what the Confederacy had lost than whatever legitimacy the South still held as its own nation.

With daylight fading, Johnston suggested a meeting for the next day, same location, to hammer out details that could be presented to both governments. In the meantime, Johnston would seek the authority from his own government to settle so many of the nagging civil issues.

Sherman left the Bennett house with an aching sense of hope, that these negotiations would not descend into a squabble over the kind of minutiae he had so little patience for. As he rode back toward Durham’s Station with Kilpatrick and his staff, Sherman knew he had one more monumental task in front of him. It was time to tell his army, his generals, and his own staff officers that President Lincoln was dead.

In every place the soldiers were camped, guards were doubled,
provosts instructed with harsh terms the level of control they had to maintain over civilian property. To Sherman’s relief, the acts of vengeance or hateful violence against the citizens in and around Raleigh were scarce. Instead, Sherman saw what he felt himself, that the men kept mostly to their camps, absorbing the bitter emotions, expressing the loss of their president not with guns and torches, but with tears.

BENNETT HOUSE, NEAR DURHAM’S STATION—APRIL 18, 1865

They met as before, alone, but Johnston seemed to understand the propriety of civil issues far better than Sherman. Johnston had brought John Breckinridge with him, a man Sherman knew well. Breckinridge had been the vice president of the United States under President James Buchanan. Pledging his loyalties to the Confederacy, he had served as major general, another in the long line of commanders whose feuding with Braxton Bragg had tossed him out of active service. Now he was Davis’s secretary of war, a post Johnston insisted would provide the necessary civil authority to any agreement they could forge.

But Sherman felt uneasy with a man who was now a leading figure in the Confederate government, a post that put him into another sphere entirely from what Sherman felt he could address. It was Johnston who suggested that Breckinridge be involved in the conversation more in the role as major general, a compromise Sherman accepted. After long discussions over the terms both sides could find acceptable, Sherman put the agreement to paper.

Once the terms were approved by their governments, there would be a temporary armistice, to last for forty-eight hours, what both men believed was sufficient time to pass along the terms to their respective commands. Beyond that, the more obvious terms were spelled out in neat detail. The Confederate armies were to be disbanded, the men returning to their own state capitals, awaiting further instruction, though every man would sign an agreement that he would no longer engage in acts of war.

The civil terms seemed perfectly clear to Sherman. The president
of the United States would recognize the existing Confederate state governments, as long as those bodies would take an oath prescribed by the U.S. Constitution. It would be up to the U.S. Supreme Court to validate their legitimacy. The citizens of the Confederate states would be guaranteed their political rights, rights of person and property, as defined by the U.S. Constitution.

The final term was that by this agreement, the war would cease. “A general amnesty, so far as the executive of the United States can command, on condition of the disbandment of the Confederate armies, the distribution of the arms, and the resumption of peaceful pursuits by the officers and men hitherto composing said armies.”

The final paragraph made Sherman far more comfortable with the civil agreements that Breckinridge had described: “Not being fully empowered by our respective principals to fulfill these terms, we individually and officially pledge ourselves to promptly obtain the necessary authority, and to carry out the above programme.”

Sherman left the meeting with full confidence that peace had been restored. Unlike the awful communication he had given his army on the seventeenth, the next morning Sherman issued a far more celebratory notice: “The general commanding announces to the army a suspension of hostilities, and an agreement with General Johnston, and high officials which, when formally ratified, will make peace from the Potomac to the Rio Grande….”

E
arly on the morning of April 19, Sherman sent Hitchcock toward the coast, to board a steamer that would carry the major to Washington. Hitchcock carried the document, as well as specific letters Sherman had written, to be delivered to Secretary Stanton, General Halleck, or General Grant. The only other restriction Hitchcock received was to keep the papers away from the eyes of any newspaper reporter.

Knowing Hitchcock would require time to make the deliveries, Sherman kept his anxieties shoved aside by reviewing his troops, especially the new units now under his command, the Tenth and Twenty-third corps, the troops Schofield had brought into Sherman’s camps. None of those formalities could keep Sherman from sleepless
nights, the raw anxiety that these days spent in camp in Raleigh would be his final days in command of an army.

On the twenty-third, Hitchcock telegraphed his return, that he would arrive the following morning.

Sherman made every effort to find some kind of normalcy as he waited, knowing that some miles away, Joe Johnston was likely as anxious as he was. At six in the morning, the train arrived, Sherman standing at the depot in the chill, shivering more from his nervousness than from the coolness of an early spring morning. Hitchcock quickly appeared, but there was no smile, none of Hitchcock’s usual naïve cheeriness. As he stepped down from the train, another man appeared, in uniform. To Sherman’s openmouthed surprise, it was Grant.

After a jubilant greeting, Sherman’s surprise was crushed by the hammer blow that Grant delivered, the purpose of Grant’s visit. The terms of surrender between Sherman and Johnston had been rejected by the United States government.

RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA—APRIL 24, 1865

T
hey settled into Sherman’s more permanent headquarters at the Governor’s Mansion. Grant had insisted, and Sherman had made clear to his staff, that Grant’s visit was not to be announced to the army, nor to anyone else who could be kept in the dark. Once Sherman understood why Grant had come, he appreciated exactly what Grant had in mind. He was saving Sherman’s command.

General Johnston, Commanding Confederate Army, Greensboro:

You will take notice that the truce or suspension of hostilities agreed to between us will cease in forty-eight hours after this is received at your lines, under the first of the articles of agreement
.

W. T. SHERMAN, MAJOR GENERAL

Grant sat with his legs crossed, smoked a cigar, read the second letter.

General Johnston
,

I have replies from Washington to my communications of April 18. I am instructed to limit my operations to your immediate command, and not to attempt civil negotiations. I therefore demand the surrender of your army on the same terms as were given to General Lee at Appomattox, April 9, instant, purely and simply
.

Grant set the papers on the table, a cloud of cigar smoke rising around his face. “That should suffice. You should probably issue an order to your army commanders, to make preparations for march. Once your forty-eight hours has passed, their orders should be specific, routes of march, so forth. You cannot assume hostilities will not continue.”

Sherman felt his chest burning with a hard black fury, fought to keep it inside. “There will be no hostilities. Johnston is an honorable man. And a man who understands the depth of his defeat.”

Grant stared at the two letters. “The order is not merely for Johnston. It is for Washington. They must know that it is your intention to fight this war to its fullest, lest you demonstrate a hesitancy that might be interpreted incorrectly.”

Sherman pushed himself deeper into the chair, fought the urge to stand, to march around the room with thunderous steps. He took a long breath, could see Grant watching him. “Interpreted how?”

Grant pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I am to give this to you, as though I was never present. This was transmitted to me by the War Department.”

Lieutenant General Grant
,

General: The memorandum, or basis agreed upon between General Sherman and General Johnston having been submitted to the president, they are disapproved
.

Sherman stopped, held out the paper. “You explained this already. I went too far. Fine. Johnston will surrender as instructed. I have no doubts about that.”

Grant pointed to the letter in Sherman’s hand. “Keep reading. The last paragraph.”

The President desires that you proceed immediately to the headquarters of Major-General Sherman, and direct operations against the enemy
.

Sherman lowered the note, looked at Grant, saw no change of expression. “I am being relieved?”

Grant shook his head. “No. But there is talk in the cabinet. Nasty talk. I spoke out on your behalf.”

“Not the cabinet. Stanton. It’s just Stanton.”

“I have not communicated to you any such thing. But the secretary is an influential man. We have a very new president, who is hesitant to insert his views, should they contradict any policies of Mr. Lincoln. The secretary of war has no such hesitancy.”

He knew there were things Grant wasn’t saying, could see from Grant’s hard stare that events had spun wildly in a direction Sherman never expected.

“Grant, what are you to do here?”

“My desire is that I do nothing at all. I will not remain here any longer than is required for you to conclude this matter with General Johnston. Once your armies have ceased hostilities, all should be well elsewhere.”

Sherman stood now, turned toward a tall window, gripped his cigar in his fist, obliterating it. “I abhor this, Grant! I did nothing wrong! I have no desire to interfere with civil politics. None! But Johnston was correct on one very important point. This is not Appomattox. His army is not as Lee’s was, hemmed in a trap. If he chooses not to accept your terms, his armies will continue their march, very probably will disperse, and instead of us having to deal with six or seven Southern states, we will deal with countless bands of desperadoes. Chasing down men like Forrest, Mosby, any of them! For how long? Years? Every city in the Confederacy will become an area of occupation by our armies. How many men will that require? For
years
as well?”

Grant still watched him, and Sherman could see Grant was forcing himself not to react. Or to agree. Grant tipped the cigar down, dropping the ash to a small dish.

“You can certainly address your concerns to the secretary. I recommend it.”

“What do I tell him? The United States government has made a mistake?”

Grant shrugged. “If you wish. He will tell you it’s none of your business. You are a servant of that government. You do not make policy.”

Sherman spun around, pacing heavily. “Damn it all, Grant. I never wanted to
make
anything. All I have done in this theater is achieve victories. This army has done so, marvelously. And now I am to be doubted? I must be slapped on my knuckles like some errant schoolboy? President Lincoln would have approved the agreement with Johnston. You know that. You heard him, as I did. He wanted forgiveness, not punishment!”

“Before you base your arguments on what Lincoln might or might not have approved, you should hear this.” Grant reached into a small valise, produced another letter. “This was sent to me by Stanton a few days prior to Lee’s surrender. Dated April third.”

Grant read,

Lieutenant-General Grant
,

The president directs me to say to you that he wishes you to have no conference with General Lee, unless it be for capitulation of General Lee’s army, or on some minor or purely military matter. He instructs me to say that you are not to decide, discuss, or confer upon any political questions….

Sherman stared at him, his mouth open. “I knew nothing of that.”

“I know you didn’t. Never bothered to tell you. Wasn’t important then. It is now.”

“So, they sent you here to read that to me?”

“Actually, Sherman, they seem to believe you already saw this. They think…
someone
thinks you deliberately ignored this instruction,
and acted on your own. That’s not a good thing for a military commander to do.”

“Dammit, Grant, I didn’t!”

“I know. They’ll know that as well, if this continues to boil. This kind of thing happens to all of us eventually. Write Stanton, tell him you were wrong to stray into civil affairs. A foolish error.”

Sherman slumped into the chair again. “All right. What are you going to do?”

Grant lit another cigar. “For now, I wish the army to be kept unaware of my presence. That would serve no useful purpose, and might convey the impression that I have come here to…well, to make mischief. Instead, I’m going to enjoy the comforts of this fine home, until you receive a response from General Johnston. Then I am going to return as quickly as I can back to that infuriating city.”

T
he next day, April 25, Sherman received the letter from Johnston he was desperately hoping for. It was not merely Sherman’s wishful thinking that Johnston understand his limited options. The Confederate commander accepted the terms of surrender as Sherman presented them, the same terms given Lee’s army at Appomattox. On April 26, the two men met one more time at the Bennett house. The meeting was brief, formal, Johnston seeming to grasp completely the hornet’s nest Sherman had created for himself. But the time for argument, for controversy had passed. Accompanied by a host of senior commanders, Sherman and Johnston went straight to the business at hand. Seventeen days after Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, the two men signed their names to a document that no one could dispute.

All acts of war on the part of the troops under General Johnston’s command to cease from this date…