Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Part 6

In Short

This memoir provides an authoritative account of the Union’s final military campaigns, detailing the tactical pressures of the war’s end. Through a lens of pragmatic leadership, the narrative follows the movement of massive armies, the tension of high-stakes logistics, and the quiet, momentous meeting between two opposing commanders. It has endured as a primary historical record, valued for its unvarnished honesty, clear-eyed assessment of military failure and success, and a profound, character-driven desire to see a divided nation return to peace without unnecessary humiliation for the defeated.

The Story

The narrative picks up in the late stages of the war, as the Union’s grip on the Confederacy tightens through the coordinated efforts of commanders like Sherman and Sheridan. The focus is on the logistics of collapse: the persistent need to cut off the enemy’s supplies and the relentless pressure required to force a decision on the battlefield. As Sherman prepares for his march through the Carolinas, the text emphasizes how the war’s objective has shifted from mere territory to the total neutralization of the Confederate capacity to feed or arm itself.

Central to this progression is the interplay between the Union's leadership and the deteriorating Confederate position. The author details the strategic impatience that led to the relief of General Warren at Five Forks, a decision reflecting the author's uncompromising standard for decisive action. The account then shifts to the final, desperate scramble of Lee’s army to reach supplies, followed by the inevitable intersection of the two forces at Appomattox. The author recounts the meeting with Lee not as a moment of triumph, but as a somber, professional encounter between two men who had known each other in the old army long before the conflict began. The description of their interaction is marked by a respectful, almost melancholic, restraint.

Following the surrender, the narrative turns to the immediate aftermath: the shock of Lincoln’s assassination and the subsequent shift in political climate. The author contrasts his own desire for a "speedy reconstruction" and a lenient approach toward the Southern people with the rising, more radical sentiments in the North. He reflects on the "grand review" of the armies in Washington, painting a vivid picture of the differences between the well-supplied, polished Army of the Potomac and the battle-hardened, resourceful veterans who followed Sherman.

The story concludes with a broad look at the state of the nation. The author observes that the war acted as a catalyst for a new spirit of independence and national integration, dissolving localized idioms and barriers. He expresses a deep, prophetic hope that the "bloody and costly" conflict will give way to lasting harmony. By emphasizing that the war’s end required the sacrifice of dearly held principles on both sides, he frames the act of surrender as the beginning of a national healing process. He closes by positioning himself as a weary but hopeful representative of the Union, advocating for a future where "Let us have peace" serves as the foundational principle for the reintegration of the Southern states into the national fabric.

How It Unfolds

Strategic coordination The narrative opens by detailing the decision-making process behind Sherman’s march through the Carolinas, emphasizing that the move was a collaborative adjustment rather than an original plan. It highlights the calculated effort to starve the Confederate garrison at Richmond by exhausting the surrounding regions.

The diplomatic prelude The account describes the brief, failed negotiations at Hampton Roads, where Lincoln firmly established that the preservation of the Union and the abolition of slavery were non-negotiable terms. This section provides a rare look at the President’s personal demeanor, portraying him as a figure who carried the weight of the war with a kindly, non-revengeful spirit.

The final tactical maneuvers The narrative shifts to the heat of the final battles, such as Five Forks and the pursuit to Amelia Court House, where the author’s impatience with dilatory commanders becomes a driving force. The focus here is on the relentless, logistical hunt for a retreating army that was effectively out of food and options.

The surrender at Appomattox The tension culminates in the meeting between the two commanders, described with a focus on their contrasting appearances and the surprisingly pleasant nature of their conversation. The author recounts the drafting of the surrender terms with a matter-of-fact precision that belies the historical magnitude of the moment.

The post-war transition The concluding sections analyze the grand review of the armies in Washington and the political fallout following Lincoln’s death. The author reflects on the shift toward more radical policies under Johnson and his own continued belief that a conciliatory path is the only way to ensure lasting citizenship for the former Confederates.

The People

U. S. Grant serves as the steady, pragmatic narrator who values results over aesthetics. He is a man of few words, characterized by an analytical mind that assesses his subordinates' failures with objective firmness while maintaining a surprisingly tender regard for his former adversary, Robert E. Lee.

Robert E. Lee emerges as a figure of "dignity" and "impassible" resolve. Despite his role as the leader of the opposing forces, he is portrayed through the author's eyes as a man of honorable character who handles the bitter pill of defeat with a composure that commands respect.

Abraham Lincoln is viewed with reverence, depicted not as a distant political icon but as a troubled, kind-hearted man seeking respite from the capital's anxieties. He represents the moral core of the Union, steadfast in his requirements for peace yet deeply burdened by the cruelty of the conflict.

William T. Sherman appears as a brilliant, if occasionally volatile, strategist. His resentment of the political interference from the Secretary of War is highlighted, underscoring the friction between military command and civilian administration that permeated the later stages of the war.

G. K. Warren serves as the primary example of a military leader whose "fine intelligence" and "quick perception" are undermined by a fatal tendency to overanalyze potential dangers, leading to his eventual removal from command.

In Its Own Voice

"I felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so much for a cause, though that cause was, I believe, one of the worst for which a people ever fought, and one for which there was the least excuse."

The author reflects on his somber internal state during the final surrender at Appomattox.

"The President of the United States is, in a large degree, or ought to be, a representative of the feeling, wishes and judgment of those over whom he presides."

The author considers the role of the presidency during the volatile period of reconstruction following the assassination.

"I feel that we are on the eve of a new era, when there is to be great harmony between the Federal and Confederate."

In his final observations, the author articulates his hope for national reconciliation and lasting peace.

What It's Really About

The text is centrally concerned with the nature of professional duty and the moral weight of victory. It explores the tension between military necessity—the cold, hard logic of supply chains and tactical maneuvers—and the human desire for a peaceful, unified future. Underlying the narrative is an argument for leniency: the author posits that a nation is strongest when it incorporates its former adversaries as equals rather than subjects. It questions how a society, deeply fractured by a war of principles, can transition into a period of shared citizenship, arguing that "peace" is not merely the absence of combat, but an active, deliberate policy of reconciliation that requires the rejection of revenge.

Why Read It Today

Readers will find a voice that is strikingly modern in its transparency. While many 19th-century military accounts are dense with flowery rhetoric or self-justifying bombast, this work is remarkably lean and direct. For those interested in the Civil War, the appeal lies in the "you are there" quality of the reports—the small details of supply wagons, the weather, and the physical appearance of commanders—that ground the grand events of history in human scale.

However, the reader should be prepared for the deliberate, methodical pace of a military mind at work. The author does not shy away from naming names or critiquing the competence of his own officers, which may be jarring for those expecting a purely hagiographic account. Additionally, the book reflects the attitudes of its time, including the author’s complicated views on the transition of the formerly enslaved into citizenship and the political climate of the 1860s. These elements provide a necessary, if sometimes challenging, window into the mindset of the period. What remains with the reader is the profound, quiet decency of a man who, having led the most destructive force in American history, concludes his life’s work with a simple, enduring plea for the nation to lay down its burdens and move forward together.