Sallie Putnam also paid grudging thanks to Federal troops who tried to put out the flames. “And the grateful thanks of the people of Richmond are due to General Weitzel and other officers for their energetic measures to save the city from entire destruction.” In the end, the West Point Code returned, and for this act of unexpected help, grateful Richmond inhabitants offered “sincere gratitude, for the respect, the kindness, the lenity with which the citizens were treated. For a conquered people, the lines had fallen to us in pleasant places.... They softened greatly the first bitter experiences of our subjugation.”
8
Left unsaid by Putnam was the fact that many of Weitzel’s soldiers who were struggling to put out the flames were African American.
“View in the ‘Burnt District,’ Richmond, Virginia.” Swathed in black mourning clothes, two Richmond ladies pick their way through the streets of their devastated city. Only the timely assistance of triumphant Federal troops prevented total destruction of the city.
Following close behind the Federal armies on April 4 was a triumphant President Lincoln accompanied by his son Tad. The scenes were a jumble of confusion, rage, and worship as he walked down the burned-out streets. One bystander looked closely at her new president and noticed how the war had taken its toll: “He seemed tired and old.”
Soon Lincoln was surrounded by a circle of adoring black people shouting, “Bless the Lord! The great Messiah!” Little did they know how literally they spoke. Lincoln, however, fully understood the depth of identification and instructed one black man who fell at his feet: “Don’t kneel to me. That is not right. You must kneel to God only, and thank Him for the liberty you will enjoy hereafter.”
9
Lincoln entered a carriage surrounded by an escort of black cavalry to take him to the capital. He was particularly struck by the Confederate White House. As he sat at the executive desk, he had nothing to say except, “This must have been President Davis’s chair.” No doubt the emotions at occupying the chair of an adversary who had run away only days earlier were intense. Lincoln’s use of the term “president” was an unbidden recognition of a “nation” that was not merely “rebels.”
In Philadelphia, the
Inquirer
noted Grant’s victory with the triumphant headline “Richmond! Babylon Is Fallen!!” It then added: “General Weitzel Enters the City ... Philadelphia Colored Troops the First to Enter! Weitzel’s Negroes Extinguish the Flames.” ... “The ‘Indomitable Ulysses’ Marching on. Lee’s Army in Full Retreat!”
10
Alongside its tribute to Grant, the paper fawned over Sheridan: “The praises of Phil Sheridan are on every tongue today ... with the bagging of Ewell and other Rebel Generals ... victories by Sheridan were now come to be looked upon as matters of course.”
11
But Lee was not done yet. On April 6 he urged General John B. Gordon to march on and then asked the impossible of his dying soldiers and horses: “I know that men and animals are much exhausted, but it is necessary to tax their strength.” Amazingly, the wasted soldiers complied and marched in a stupor toward their destination at Farmville on a railroad line to Lynchburg. Lee assumed he would get supplies from Danville, not realizing that Yankees controlled the road in between. The rations would never arrive.
Unaware of the bitter disappointment ahead, Lee pushed out from Amelia Courthouse and almost made it to his supposed provision trains. The middle of his column of escape then became separated from the others and was annihilated at Sayler’s Creek, with General Richard S. Ewell and Lee’s eldest son, Custis Lee, forced to surrender.
Sheridan, not one to minimize his own importance, summarized the heroics of his troops but later regretted that the subsequent surrender of Lee’s army would rob him of the personal praise to which he was accustomed: “The capture of Ewell, with six of his generals and most of his troops, crowned our success, but the fight was so overshadowed by the stirring events of the surrender three days later, that the battle has never been accorded the prominence it deserves.” Sheridan, at least, was mindful of the significance of his victory and that night reported to Grant, “If the thing is pressed I think Lee will surrender.” When informed of Sheridan’s observation, Lincoln wired Grant: “Let the
thing
be pressed.”
12
The next day Lee’s skeletal divisions lurched toward Appomattox Station, hoping for supplies from Lynchburg. They camped two miles north of the railroad station at Appomattox Courthouse. Again Grant delivered a message to Lee urging surrender and graciously offering “to meet you ... at any point agreeable to you, for the purpose of arranging definitely the terms upon which the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia will be received.”
13
Again Lee declined, still hoping his starving army would be fed. When he learned that Grant’s army had beaten him to Appomattox Station with thousands more well-fed and well-equipped Yankees fast closing in on his rear, he determined to attempt one final breakthrough. One last time, Gordon and Longstreet urged their starving troops toward the enemy. The assault was hopeless and the troops were hemmed in on three sides. It failed miserably, but significantly Lee’s last military maneuver ended where it all began, on the attack.
On the evening of April 7, Grant met with his generals. All agreed that the end was near and urged a meeting with Lee to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Once again the generals sought to intercede for their nations, and this time Grant invoked no higher authority in inviting Lee to surrender his army before “any further effusion of blood” be shed. Earlier, when Grant and Sherman had met with Lincoln aboard the
River Queen,
it had been clear that Lincoln thought of his generals as “associates.” He would leave it to them to negotiate a “lenient” surrender.
14
When Lee showed Grant’s letter to Longstreet, Longstreet replied “not yet,” and Lee agreed. Still hoping to extract an honorable peace rather than surrender, Lee proposed instead a personal meeting between the two generals.
As of April 9, Palm Sunday, Lee had not heard back from Grant, who was nursing a massive migraine headache. Assuming that Grant had received his message and planned to meet with him, Lee crossed his picket lines under a flag of truce, only to find that Grant would not see him unless he intended to surrender. At the same time, Sheridan checked the Confederate advance near Appomattox Courthouse and captured Lee’s vital supply train. With all gambits played out, Lee wrote to Grant on April 9: “I ask a suspension of hostilities, pending the adjustment of the terms of the surrender of this army.”
15
Once Grant read the message, his headache disappeared.
Lee had no idea what to expect. For all he knew, he would soon be in shackles facing a summary court-martial and immediate execution for treason. Nor did he know how his suffering soldiers and officers would be treated by their triumphant foes. For their part, hesitant Yankee soldiers, inured by four years of surprises and disappointments, feared that Lee’s communication might be a ruse to allow for escape. Sheridan, impetuous as always, massed his army to attack Lee in the low valley where they were bivouacked. But Grant knew better. Honor counted everywhere with the generals and nowhere more than with General Lee. Just as Custer was about to attack, word reached Sheridan: “Lee has surrendered; do not charge; the white flag is Up.”
16
After several hours of anxious waiting, Lee received word from Grant that they would meet in the parlor of the house of the Wilmer McLean family north of the courthouse. Again Lee rode toward his picket line behind a flag of truce, and this time Grant did not disappoint him. Grant was conducted to the McLean house, where Lee waited in full dress uniform, with dress sword glittering at his side.
In a uniform he would never wear in the field, Lee looked like the victor rather than the vanquished. Grant, on the other hand, had just come in from the field and was swordless and mud-splattered. He wore his customary private’s blouse, distinguished only by the shoulder straps of a lieutenant general. The two men shook hands, then proceeded to discuss terms of surrender. Though Grant knew Lee from his service in the Mexican War, he could not read Lee’s impassive face or discern his reactions:
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.
Southern civilians might still want blood, but the soldiers had had enough. The two generals fell into an animated conversation “about old army times,” until finally Lee reminded Grant of the purpose of their meeting. In asking for terms, Grant replied simply, “I meant merely that your army should lay down their arms, not to take them up again during the continuance of the war unless duly and properly exchanged.” With that, Grant again rambled until Lee requested the terms be set in writing, which Grant proceeded to do. When Lee learned how generous Grant’s terms were—including permission for soldiers to keep their sidearms, horses, and private property—he noted that it would have a “happy effect” on his army.
Only after the two men had parted did Grant telegraph Secretary of War Stanton, almost as an afterthought, with news of the surrender he had authorized: “General Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia this afternoon on terms proposed by myself.”
17
Grant did not exaggerate. On the occasion of Lee’s surrender, Grant spoke for the nation, telling the enemy soldiers that with surrender, “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.” There would be no reprisals, no trials, no humiliating imprisonments and seizures. Following Lincoln’s inclinations, Grant determined to cap a convincing victory with a peace worth the purchase.
Lee returned to his anxious and starving army. As the troops gathered before him, many in tears, Lee spoke affectionately to those who had suffered so much and now must go home. But go home they should. In a direct attempt to discourage all notion of guerrilla warfare, he spoke quietly and to great effect: “I have done for you all that it was in my power to do. You have done all your duty. Leave the result to God. Go to your homes and resume your occupations. Obey the laws and become as good citizens as you were soldiers.” With that Lee rode off, bareheaded and eyes straight ahead.
When news of the surrender reached the Yankee soldiers, they began firing salutes to their victory. Grant immediately ordered them to cease fire and show respect for an army that was no longer “the enemy” but one of them. One last time the two generals met, each mounted on his favorite horse, respective armies on either side. Lee expressed his hope that no more lives would be lost. Grant, hoping that again Lee (rather than Davis) would speak for his people, replied, “There [is] not a man in the Confederacy whose influence with the soldiery and the whole people was as great as [yours], and ... if [you] would now advise the surrender of all the armies I had no doubt [your] advice would be followed with alacrity.”
18
Lee hedged, noting that he would have to consult President Davis. But the seed was clearly planted.
Grant returned to the McLean house, where “the officers of both armies came in great numbers, and seemed to enjoy the meeting as much as though they had been friends separated for a long time while fighting battles under the same flag.” In a profound sense that would only become apparent in time, this was indeed the case.
On April 10 Lee issued his final General Orders No. 9 to the army, subsequently known as “Lee’s Farewell Address.” Without any thought of ongoing resistance or guerrilla war options, he urged officers and soldiers to “return to [your] homes.” Further organized war would be a “useless sacrifice” and guerrilla warfare was unthinkable. Faithful to the end, Lee closed: “You will take with you the satisfaction that proceeds from the consciousness of duty faithfully performed, and I earnestly pray that a Merciful God will extend to you His blessing and protection.”
19
Two days later, a ceremony of surrender took place at Appomattox Courthouse. Federal soldiers lined the principal street to await the formal surrender of Confederate battle flags and arms. General Joshua Chamberlain, with three war wounds and a Congressional Medal of Honor, was selected to be the first general to receive the defeated foe. Confederate Corps Commander John B. Gordon, also wounded five times at Antietam and decorated, rode at the head of the Confederate army. Both generals had suffered and bled for their cause and now would face each other in peace. General Chamberlain later described the ritual:
On they came, with the old swinging route step and swaying battle flags. In the van, the proud Confederate ensign.... Before us in proud humiliation stood the embodiment of manhood; men whom neither toils and sufferings, nor the fact of death, nor disaster, nor hopelessness could bend from their resolve; standing before us now, thin, worn and famished, but erect, and with eyes looking level into ours, waking memories.