Abraham Lincoln

by William Eleroy Curtis

"From my first entrance into the volunteer service of the country to the present day, I have never had cause of complaint—have never expressed or implied a complaint against the administration, or the Secretary of War, for throwing any embarrassment in the way of my vigorously prosecuting what appeared to me my duty. Indeed, since the promotion which placed me in command of all the armies, and in view of the great responsibility and importance of success, I have been astonished at the readiness with which everything asked for has been yielded, without even an explanation being asked. Should my success be less than I desire and expect, the least I can say is, the fault is not with you."

In his reminiscences, General Grant says, "Just after receiving my commission as lieutenant-general, the President called me aside to speak to me privately. After a brief reference to the military situation, he said he thought he could illustrate what he wanted to say by a story, which he related as follows: 'At one time there was a great war among the animals, and one side had great difficulty in getting a commander who had sufficient confidence in himself. Finally, they found a monkey, by the name of Jocko, who said that he thought he could command their army if his tail could be made a little longer. So they got more tail and spliced it on to his caudal appendage. He looked at it admiringly, and then thought he ought to have a little more still. This was added, and again he called for more. The splicing process was repeated many times, until they had coiled Jocko's tail around the room, filling all the space. Still he called for more tail, and, there being no other place to coil it, they began wrapping it around his shoulders. He continued his call for more, and they kept on winding the additional tail about him until its weight broke him down.' I saw the point, and, rising from my chair, replied, 'Mr. President, I will not call for more assistance unless I find it impossible to do with what I already have.'

"Upon one occasion," continued Grant, "when the President was at my head-quarters at City Point, I took him to see the work that had been done on the Dutch Gap Canal. After taking him around and showing him all the points of interest, explaining how, in blowing up one portion of the work that was being excavated, the explosion had thrown the material back into, and filled up, a part already completed, he turned to me and said, 'Grant, do you know what this reminds me of? Out in Springfield, Illinois, there was a blacksmith named ——. One day, when he did not have much to do, he took a piece of soft iron that had been in his shop for some time, and for which he had no special use, and, starting up his fire, began to heat it. When he got it hot he carried it to the anvil and began to hammer it, rather thinking he would weld it into an agricultural implement. He pounded away for some time until he got it fashioned into some shape, when he discovered that the iron would not hold out to complete the implement he had in mind. He then put it back into the forge, heated it up again, and recommenced hammering, with an ill-defined notion that he would make a claw hammer, but after a time he came to the conclusion that there was more iron there than was needed to form a hammer. Again he heated it, and thought he would make an axe. After hammering and welding it into shape, knocking the oxidized iron off in flakes, he concluded there was not enough of the iron left to make an axe that would be of any use. He was now getting tired and a little disgusted at the result of his various essays. So he filled his forge full of coal, and, after placing the iron in the centre of the heap, took the bellows and worked up a tremendous blast, bringing the iron to a white heat. Then with his tongs he lifted it from the bed of coals, and thrusting it into a tub of water near by, exclaimed with an oath, "Well, if I can't make anything else of you, I will make a fizzle, anyhow."'"

A friend once asked Lincoln whether the story was true that he had inquired where General Grant got his liquor, so that he might send a barrel to each of his other generals. Lincoln replied that the story originated in King George's time. When General Wolfe was accused of being mad, the King replied, "I wish he would bite some of my other generals."

At the dedication of the Lincoln monument at Springfield, October 15, 1874, General Grant said, "From March, 1864, to the day when the hand of the assassin opened a grave for Mr. Lincoln, then President of the United States, my personal relations with him were as close and intimate as the nature of our respective duties would permit. To know him personally was to love and respect him for his great qualities of heart and head and for his patience and patriotism. With all his disappointments from failures on the part of those to whom he had intrusted commands, and treachery on the part of those who had gained his confidence but to betray it, I never heard him utter a complaint, nor cast a censure, for bad conduct or bad faith. It was his nature to find excuses for his adversaries. In his death the nation lost its greatest hero; in his death the South lost its most just friend."

These relations thus established were never disturbed. Grant was the first of all the generals in whom the President placed implicit confidence; he was the only one with whom he seemed to feel entirely at ease; and although their communications were frequent and voluminous, there was seldom a difference of opinion. They contain no complaint or reproach, but ring with mutual confidence and appreciation. Seldom have two men of such remarkable character and ability enjoyed such unruffled relations. Military history furnishes no similar instance. Each seemed to measure the other at his full stature and recognize his strength. There were many busybodies carrying tales and striving to excite suspicion and jealousy, but their faith could not be shaken or their confidence impaired. Lincoln's letters to Grant offer a striking contrast to those addressed to Burnside, Hooker, McClellan, and other commanders.

General Ambrose E. Burnside was selected to command the Army of the Potomac after McClellan was relieved November 5, 1862. He was a classmate and intimate friend of his predecessor, handsome, brave, generous, and as modest as McClellan was vain. He not only did not seek the honor, but declined it twice on the ground that he was not competent to command so large an army, but finally accepted the responsibility at the urgent wish of the President, and very soon demonstrated the mistake. His career was as unfortunate as it was brief, but his manly report of the unfortunate battle of Fredericksburg did him great credit, for he assumed all the responsibility for the failure and said nothing but praise of his men.

The President replied by a kind and sympathetic despatch after his failure at Fredericksburg, and fully appreciated his situation. "Although you were not successful," he said, "the attempt was not an error nor the failure other than accident. The courage with which you in an open field maintained the contest against an intrenched foe, and the consummate skill and success with which you crossed and recrossed the river in the face of the enemy, show that you possess all the qualities of a great army, which will yet give victory to the cause of the country and of popular government."

Burnside's confession of failure destroyed the confidence of the army in him, and Burnside realized it. "Doubtless," he said, "this difference of opinion between my general officers and myself results from a lack of confidence in me. In this case it is highly necessary that this army should be commanded by some other officer, to whom I will most cheerfully give way."

The President replied, "I deplore the want of concurrence with you in opinion by your general officers, but I do not see the remedy. Be cautious, and do not understand that the government or the country is driving you. I do not yet see how I could profit by changing the command of the Army of the Potomac, and if I did I would not wish to do it by accepting the resignation of your commission."