Elihu B. Washburne, the member of Congress from the Galena
district in Illinois, General Grant’s old home, soon
introduced a bill creating the grade of lieutenant-general,
and it was passed by both houses of Congress, with the
implied understanding that General Grant was to fill the
position. The highest grade in the army theretofore created
during the war had been that of major-general. The act became
a law on February 26, 1864, and the nomination of General
Grant was sent to the Senate by Mr. Lincoln on the 1st
of March, and confirmed on the 2nd. On the 3rd
the general was ordered to Washington. I had set to work upon
my duties in the Ordnance Bureau, and in the mean time had
received several very kind messages from the general
regarding the chances of my returning to the field.
On the evening of March 8, 1864 the President and
Mrs. Lincoln gave a public reception at the White House,
which I attended. The President stood in the usual
reception-room, known as the "Blue Room," with
several cabinet officers near him, and shook hands cordially
with everybody, as the vast procession of men and women
passed in front of him. He was in evening dress, and wore a
turned-down collar a size too large. The necktie was rather
broad and awkwardly tied. He was more of a Hercules than an
Adonis. His height of six feet four inches enabled him to
look over the heads of most of his visitors. His form was
ungainly, and the movements of his long, angular arms and
legs bordered at times upon the grotesque. His eyes were gray
and disproportionally small. His face wore a general
expression of sadness, the deep lines indicating the sense of
responsibility which weighed upon him; but at times his
features lighted up with a broad smile, and there was a merry
twinkle in his eyes as he greeted an old acquaintance and
exchanged a few words with him in a tone of familiarity. He
had sprung from the common people to become one of the most
uncommon of men. Mrs. Lincoln occupied a position on his
right. For a time she stood on a line with him and took part
in the reception, but afterward stepped back and conversed
with some of the wives of the cabinet officers and other
personal acquaintances who were in the room.
At about half-past nine o’clock a sudden commotion near
the entrance to the room attracted general attention, and,
upon looking in that direction, I was surprised to see
General Grant walking along modestly with the rest of the
crowd toward Mr. Lincoln. He had arrived from the West that
evening, and had come to the White House to pay his respects
to the President. He had been in Washington but once before,
when he visited it for a day soon after he had left West
Point. Although these two historical characters had never met
before, Mr. Lincoln recognized the general at once from the
pictures he had seen of him. With a face radiant with
delight, he advanced rapidly two or three steps toward his
distinguished visitor, and cried out: "Why, here is
General Grant! Well, this is a great pleasure, I assure you,"
at the same time seizing him by the hand, and shaking it for
several minutes with a vigor which showed the extreme
cordiality of the welcome.
The scene now presented was deeply impressive. Standing
face to face for the first time were the two illustrious men
whose names will always be inseparably associated in
connection with the war of the rebellion. Grant’s right
hand grasped the lapel of his coat; his head was bent
slightly forward, and his eyes upturned toward Lincoln’s
face. The President, who was eight inches taller, looked down
with beaming countenance upon his guest. Although their
appearance, their training, and their characteristics were in
striking contrast, yet the two men had many traits in common,
and there were numerous points of resemblance in their
remarkable careers. Each was of humble origin, and had been
compelled to learn the first lessons of life in the severe
school of adversity. Each had risen from the people,
possessed an abiding confidence in them, and always retained
a deep hold upon their affections. Each might have said to
those who were inclined to sneer at his plain origin what a
marshal of France, who had risen from the ranks to a dukedom,
said to the hereditary nobles who attempted to snub him in
Vienna: "I am an ancestor; you are only
descendants." In a great crisis of their country’s
history both had entered the public service from the State.
Both were conspicuous for the possession of that most
uncommon of all virtues, common sense. Both despised the arts
of the demagogue, and shrank from posing for effect, or
indulging in mock heroics. Even when their characteristics
differed, they only served to supplement each other, and to
add a still greater strength to the cause for which they
strove. With hearts too great for rivalry, with souls
untouched by jealousy, they lived to teach the world that it
is time to abandon the path of ambition when it becomes so
narrow that two cannot walk it abreast.
The statesman and the soldier conversed for a few minutes,
and then the President presented his distinguished guest to
Mr. Seward. The Secretary of State was very demonstrative in
his welcome, and after exchanging a few words, led the
general to where Mrs. Lincoln was standing, and presented him
to her. Mrs. Lincoln expressed much surprise and pleasure at
the meeting, and she and the general chatted together very
pleasantly for some minutes. The visitors had by this time
become so curious to catch a sight of the general that their
eagerness knew no bounds, and they became altogether
unmanageable. Mr. Seward’s consummate knowledge of the
wiles of diplomacy now came to the rescue and saved the
situation. He succeeded in struggling through the crowd with
the general until they reached the large East Room, where the
people could circulate more freely. This, however, was only a
temporary relief. The people by this time had worked
themselves up to a state of uncontrollable excitement. The
vast throng surged and swayed and crowded until alarm was
felt for the safety of the ladies. Cries now arose of
"Grant! Grant! Grant!" Then came cheer after cheer.
Seward, after some persuasion, induced the general to stand
upon a sofa, thinking the visitors would be satisfied with a
view of him, and retire; but as soon as they caught sight of
him their shouts were renewed, and a rush was made to shake
his hand. The President sent word that he and the Secretary
of War would await the general’s return in one of the small
drawing-rooms, but it was fully an hour before he was able to
make his way there, and then only with the aid of several
officers and ushers.
GRANT RECEIVES HIS COMMISSION
AS LIEUTENANT GENERAL
The next day, March 9th, 1864, the general went
to the White House, by invitation of Mr. Lincoln, for the
purpose of receiving his commission from the hands of the
President.
While in Washington General Grant had been so much an
object of curiosity, and had been so continually surrounded
by admiring crowds when he appeared in the streets, and even
in his hotel, that it had become very irksome to him. With
his simplicity and total lack of personal vanity, he did not
seem able to understand why he should attract so much
attention. The President had given him a cordial invitation
to dine that evening at the White House, but he begged to be
excused for the reason that he would lose a whole day, which
he could not afford at that critical period.
"Besides," he added, "I have become very
tired of this show business."
On the 12th the official order was issued
placing General Grant in command of all the armies of the
United States.
LINCOLN VISITS GRANT FOR THE FIRST TIME
On Tuesday, June 21, 1864 a white river-steamer arrived at the
wharf, bringing President Lincoln, who had embraced this
opportunity to visit for the first time the armies under
General Grant’s immediate command. As the boat neared the
shore, the general and several of us who were with him at the
time walked down to the wharf, in order that the
general-in-chief might meet his distinguished visitor and
extend a greeting to him as soon as the boat made the
landing. As our party stopped aboard, the President came down
from the upper deck, where he had been standing, to the
after-gangway, and reaching out his long, angular arm, he
wrung General Grant’s hand vigorously, and held it in his
for some time, while he uttered in rapid words his
congratulations and expressions of appreciation of the great
task which had been accomplished since he and the general had
parted in Washington. The group then went into the
after-cabin. General Grant said: "I hope you are very
well, Mr. President." "Yes, I am in very good
health," Mr. Lincoln replied; "but I don’t feel
very comfortable after my trip last night on the bay. It was
rough, and I was considerably shaken up. My stomach has not
yet entirely recovered from the effects." An officer of
the party now saw that an opportunity had arisen to make this
scene the supreme moment of his life, in giving him a chance
to soothe the digestive organs of the Chief Magistrate of the
nation. He said: "Try a glass of champagne, Mr.
President. That is always a certain cure for
seasickness." Mr. Lincoln looked at him for a moment,
his face lighting up with a smile, and then remarked:
"No, my friend; I have seen too many fellows seasick
ashore from drinking that very stuff." This was a
knockdown for the officer, and in the laugh at his expense
Mr. Lincoln and the general both joined heartily.
[...]
After a while General Grant said: "Mr. President, let
us ride on and see the colored troops, who behaved so
handsomely in Smith’s attack on the works in front of
Petersburg last week." "Oh yes," replied Mr.
Lincoln; "I want to take a look at those boys. I read
with the greatest delight the account given in Mr. Dana’s
despatch to the Secretary of War of how gallantly they
behaved. He said they took six out of the sixteen guns
captured that day. I was opposed on nearly every side when I
first favored the raising of colored regiments; but they have
proved their efficiency, and I am glad they have kept pace
with the white troops in the recent assaults. When we wanted
every able-bodied man who could be spared to go to the front,
and my opposers kept objecting to the negroes, I used to tell
them that at such times it was just as well to be a little
color-blind.
[...]
The camp of the colored troops of the Eighteenth Corps was
soon reached, and a scene now occurred which defies
description. They beheld for the first time the liberator of
their race – the man who by the stroke of his pen had
struck the shackles from the limbs of their fellow-bondmen
and proclaimed liberty to the enslaved. Always
impressionable, the enthusiasm of the blacks now knew no
limits. They cheered, laughed, cried, sang hymns of praise,
and shouted in their negro dialect, "God bless Massa
Linkum!" "De Lord save Fader Abraham!"
"De day ob jubilee am come, shuah." They crowded
about him and fondled his horse; some of them kissed his
hands, while others ran off crying in triumph to their
comrades that they had touched his clothes. The President
rode with bared head; the tears had started to his eyes, and
his voice was so broken by emotion that he could scarcely
articulate the words of thanks and congratulation which he
tried to speak to the humble and devoted men through whose
ranks he rode. The scene was affecting in the extreme, and no
one could have witnessed it unmoved.