“You are mistaken,” replied the Confederate chief earnestly, “quite mistaken. Grant is not retreating; he is not a retreating man.”
Lee was right. The Army of the Potomac was never again marched back across the Rapidan until after the backbone of the Confederacy had been broken, and the gallant Union soldiers were en route to Washington to be mustered out.
I first saw Gen. Grant while the battle of the Wilderness was going on. In changing position during the fight, our regiment was marched around by Meade's headquarters. There were a dozen or more officers grouped about Gen. Grant and Gen. Meade. The latter wore the full uniform of a major-general, including sword and sash. He was somewhat fussy in giving directions, and a stickler for red tape. But Meade was a soldier “from heels up.” Grant was plainly dressed, and wore no sword. His coat was unbuttoned, and not until he was pointed out as the commander-in-chief was he recognized by the troopers who were riding across the field.
“There's Gen. Grant.”
“Where?”
“On the left of Gen. Meade.”
“That officer with his coat open?”
“Yes; that's Grant.”
Off went our caps, and the commander acknowledged our cheer by raising his hat.
Just then there was a terrific firing along Hancock's front, and Grant galloped over in that direction after a moment's conversation with Meade. We took up the trot, and in a few minutes found plenty to do out on the road leading to Todd's tavern. When a breathing spell came, the boys had their say about the lieutenant-general.