to come to his headquarters for a holiday visit.
There was much in it besides holiday, for Grant was
rapidly maturing his plans for the great event and
wanted Lincoln near. Moreover Sheridan had just
arrived, and while Lincoln was there Sherman came
from Goldsborough with Admiral Porter for consultation
as to Sherman’s next move. Peremptory
as he was in any necessary political instructions,
Lincoln was now happy to say nothing of military matters,
beyond expressing his earnest desire that the final
overmastering of the Confederate armies should be
accomplished with the least further bloodshed possible,
and indulging the curiosity that any other guest might
have shown. A letter home to Mrs. Lincoln betrays
the interest with which he heard heavy firing quite
near, which seemed to him a great battle, but did
not excite those who knew. Then there were rides
in the country with Grant’s staff. Lincoln
in his tall hat and frock coat was a marked and curious
figure on a horse. He had once, by the way,
insisted on riding with Butler, catechising him with
remorseless chaff on engineering matters and forbidding
his chief engineer to prompt him, along six miles
of cheering Northern troops within easy sight and
shot of the Confederate soldiers to whom his hat and
coat identified him. But, however odd a figure,
he impressed Grant’s officers as a good and
bold horseman. Then, after Sherman’s arrival,
there evidently was no end of talk. Sherman was
at first amused by the President’s anxiety as
to whether his army was quite safe without him at
Goldsborough; but that keen-witted soldier soon received,
as he has said, an impression both of goodness and
of greatness such as no other man ever gave him.
What especially remained on Sherman’s and on
Porter’s mind was the recollection of Lincoln’s
over-powering desire for mercy and for conciliation
with the conquered. Indeed Sherman blundered
later in the terms he first accepted from Johnston;
for he did not see that Lincoln’s clemency for
Southern leaders and desire for the welfare of the
South included no mercy at all for the political principle
of the Confederacy. Grant was not exposed to
any such mistake, for a week or two before Lee had
made overtures to him for some sort of conference
and Lincoln had instantly forbidden him to confer with
Lee for any purpose but that of his unconditional
surrender. What, apart from the reconstruction
of Southern life and institutions, was in part weighing
with Lincoln was the question of punishments for rebellion.
By Act of Congress the holders of high political
and military office in the South were liable as traitors,
and there was now talk of hanging in the North.
Later events showed that a very different sentiment
would make itself heard when the victory came; but
Lincoln was much concerned. To some one who
spoke to him of this matter he exclaimed, “What
have I to do with you, ye sons of Zeruiah, that ye
should this day be adversaries unto me? Shall
there any man be put to death this day in Israel?”
There can be no doubt that the prerogative of mercy
would have been vigorously used in his hands, but
he did not wish for a conflict on this matter at all;
and Grant was taught, in a parable about a teetotal
Irishman who forgave being served with liquor unbeknownst
to himself, that zeal in capturing Jefferson Davis
and his colleagues was not expected of him.