THE CURTAIN FALLS AT APPOMATTOX
In discussing the war, General Longstreet always dwelt with peculiar tenderness on the last days that culminated with the surrender at Appomattox. His mental belief for two years before the surrender was that from the very nature of the situation the Union forces would in all probability finally triumph, but his brave heart never knew how to give up the fight, and the surrender was at last agreed upon while he was still protesting against it.
The incident is well known of a number of the leading Confederate generals, who, having decided that further resistance was useless, went to General Lee and suggested surrender upon the best terms that could be had as the wisest thing to do. General Longstreet declined to join with them. General Pendleton was spokesman for the party. His account of the conference is thus related by General A. L. Long in his Memoirs of Lee:
“General Lee was lying on the ground. No others heard the conversation between him and myself. He received my communication with the reply, ‘Oh, no; I trust that it has not come to that,’ and added, ‘General, we have yet too many bold men to think of laying down our arms. The enemy do not fight with spirit, while our boys do. Besides, if I were to say a word to the Federal commander, he would regard it as such a confession of weakness as to make it the condition of demanding an unconditional surrender, a proposal to which I will never listen.... I have never believed we could, against the gigantic combination for our subjugation, make good, in the long run, our independence, unless some foreign power should, directly or indirectly, assist us.... But such considerations really make with me no difference. We had, I am satisfied, sacred principles to maintain, and rights to defend, for which we were in duty bound to do our best, even if we perished in the endeavor.’
“Such were, as nearly as I can recall them, the exact words of General Lee on that most pitiful occasion. You see in them the soul of the man. Where his conscience dictated and his judgment decided, there his heart was.”
No words of eulogy show up so clearly the characters of Lee and likewise of Grant as their own direct words and deeds. On the evening of April 7, 1865, General Grant wrote General Lee as follows:
“The results of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the Confederate army known as the Army of Northern Virginia.”
General Longstreet was with General Lee when he received this note. It was handed to General Longstreet without a word. After reading it General Longstreet handed it back, saying, “Not yet.” General Lee replied to General Grant that same evening:
“I have received your note of this day. Though not entertaining the opinion you express on the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia, I reciprocate your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before considering your proposition, ask the terms you will offer on condition of its surrender.”
While this correspondence was pending, both armies, under the respective directions of Grant and of Lee, continued their preparations for battle as if there was no thought of cessation. The next day, April 8, General Grant wrote General Lee as follows:
“Your note of last evening, in reply to mine of the same date asking the conditions on which I will accept surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, is just received. In reply I would say that, peace being my great desire, there is but one condition I would insist upon,—namely, that the men and officers surrendered shall be disqualified for taking up arms again against the United States government until properly exchanged. I will meet you, or will designate officers to meet any officers you might name for the same purpose, 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.”
To this General Lee replied, under the same date:
“I received at a late hour your note of to-day. In mine of yesterday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition. To be frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of this army, but as the restoration to peace should be the sole object of all, I desired to know whether your proposals would lead to that end. I cannot, therefore, meet you with a view to the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia; but as far as your proposal may affect the Confederate States forces under my command and tend to the restoration of peace, I should be pleased to meet you at ten A.M. to-morrow on the old stage road to Richmond, between the picket-lines of the two armies.”
That night General Lee spread his couch about a hundred feet from the saddle and blanket that were General Longstreet’s pillow for the night, and it is not probable that either had a more comfortable bed than the other. Of the early hours of the next day, the last day of active existence of the Army of Northern Virginia, Colonel Venable, of General Lee’s staff, has written a touching account, which is published in General Long’s “Memoirs of General Lee.” When further resistance seemed useless, he quoted General Lee as saying,—
“Then there is nothing left me but to go and see General Grant, and I would rather die a thousand deaths.”
Many were the wild words of passionate grief spoken by the officers around him. Said one, “Oh, General, what would history say of the surrender of the army in the field?” According to Colonel Venable, General Lee replied, “Yes, I know they will say hard things of us; they will not understand how we are overwhelmed with numbers. But that is not the question; the question is, Is it right to surrender this army? If it is right, then I will take all the responsibility.”
Presently General Lee called General Longstreet to ride forward with him. He said that the advance columns stood against a very formidable force which he could not break through, while General Meade was at Longstreet’s rear ready to call for all the work that the rear guard could do. He added that it did not seem possible for him to make further successful resistance. General Longstreet asked if the sacrifice of his army could benefit the cause in other quarters. He thought not. Then, said Longstreet, “The situation speaks for itself.” Several other leading generals were consulted, and all of them held the same view.
Meanwhile, the Federal forces appeared plainly to be preparing for attack. The Confederates continued work on their lines of defence. General Longstreet ordered parts of the rear guard forward to support the advance forces, and directed General E. P. Alexander to establish them with part of his batteries in the best position for support or rallying line in case the front lines were forced back.
Thus the last line of battle formed in the Army of Northern Virginia was by the invincible First Corps, twice conqueror of empire!
GENERAL ALEXANDER ARRANGING THE LAST LINE OF BATTLE FORMED IN THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA.
In talking over the delicate situation, General Lee told General Longstreet that he feared his refusal to meet General Grant’s proposition might cause him to demand harsh terms. General Longstreet assured him that he knew General Grant well enough to be certain that the best terms possible would be given—even such terms as he himself would be willing to give a gallant foe under similar circumstances. How true this estimate proved all the world now knows.
APPENDIX
LONGSTREET
He lies in state, while by his flag-draped bier
Pass the long ranks of men who wore the gray—
Men who heard shriek of shot and shell unmoved—
Sobbing like children o’er the lifeless clay.
Through the fair South the heroes whom he led
Against the blue lines in the stricken field
Muse on the days ere Appomattox wrenched
The laurel wreath from Dixie’s shattered shield.
The glories of Manassas, Chancellorsville,
And all the triumphs those gray legions gained
Seem gathered in a shadowy host beside
That casket and those colors battle-stained!
While in the frozen North the men who strove
Against his squadrons, bartering blow for blow,
Bow silvered heads, exclaiming lovingly,
“May he rest well! He was a noble foe!”
Genius and courage equally were his—
He fought in cause his heart maintained as right,
And when the sword clanked in the rusted sheath
He murmured not against the losing fight,
But made endeavor, with a loyal soul,
To heal the wounds the years of strife had wrought—
And in the fields of peace more glories won
Than in the battles his gray warriors fought!
—W. A. P., in Chicago Journal.