March 1865. The Confederacy was in ruins. Cities and towns throughout the South had been decimated. Food was scarce. Mass desertions plagued the Rebel army. On the political front, Abraham Lincoln had been sworn in for his second term on March 4—five weeks after the U.S. Congress passed the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, abolishing slavery in America forever. (The amendment was ratified later that year on December 6.) And after nine months of sporadic attacking and counterattacking, Robert E. Lee’s exhausted and diminishing Army of Northern Virginia remained entrenched at Petersburg, facing an army several times its size commanded by Ulysses S. Grant. On April 2, Union troops finally broke through the Petersburg line, forcing Lee to retreat, and Richmond, the Confederate capital, was evacuated. Pursued by Grant, the Rebel troops struggled west toward Amelia, Virginia, where Lee expected to find rations waiting for his famished men. But when they arrived, nothing was there. After a ferocious confrontation on April 6 at Sayler’s Creek, Lee lost another third of his army. Grant sent Lee a message the next day urging him to spare “further effusion of blood” and surrender. Lee refused, attempting one last dash to Appomattox Court House, where, again, he hoped to find provisions. General Philip Sheridan’s cavalry raced ahead of the Rebels and seized the food and supplies. By April 9, Palm Sunday, Lee recognized the inevitable. Attired in an immaculate gray uniform, Lee met with Grant—fifteen years younger and dressed in rumpled, mud-splattered clothing—to discuss a formal surrender. Throughout the war Charles George had sent hundreds of letters, many of them written in blackberry juice, to his wife, Ellen, back in Vermont. After three years of service, George was able to report from Appomattox the news that he, and literally tens of millions of others, so urgently wanted to hear.
Monday Morning—April 10, 1865
HURRAH!!!! HURRAH!!!! HURRAH!!!! GENERAL LEE HAS SURRENDERED!!!!
Peace is near at hand!!—Oh! My dear Ellie!! I cannot express to you the emotions of my heart. Yesterday was the most eventful day of the war. A day that will never be forgotten!!! Never were such demonstrations of joy exhibited as there was from five to eight o’clock. I will explain to you first the situation of the armies and try to tell you something about the enthusiasm of the 6th Corps.
Friday operations proved to be a severe blow to Lee. Sheridan had got him in a tight place—captured several thousand prisoners and obliged him to burn his wagon trains. We left Farmville about 9:00 A.M. Saturday—after traveling a few miles we came upon the burned train—the roads were strewn with the debris of camp equipage—kettles, secretary desks, papers, books, and everything belonging to Headquarter wagons were scattered over the road for miles. About 600 wagons were burned. After marching about 4 miles we began to hear cheering ahead. Pretty soon it came to us—General Lee had sent in proposals for a surrender and made terms of peace. Grant sent back that he had no authority to make peace. He would accept nothing but an unconditional surrender. That day the 2nd and 5th Corps got another haul of prisoners and wagons. Sunday morning we heard firing at the front and were hurried on.
The first news we heard was that Lee had sent a flag of truce again—wishing to have an interview with Grant. Grant sent word again that he would accept nothing but an unconditional surrender!—Lee sent word again that he would not surrender then. General Thomas had taken Lynchburg with only the 4th Corps and a division of cavalry attacking in the rear—and in the battle captured about 45,000 prisoners. Everything was then in readiness to attack on all sides—we had him surrounded and his army was so reduced that he could not whip either side. The 2nd Corps were in readiness for a charge.—Our Corps was massed about two miles in their rear—Grant then sent word to Lee that he would give him till 5:00 PM. to surrender. The story is soon told—Lee came to terms and Grant renewed his previous title of
“Unconditional Surrender Grant”
And Ellie, when the news reached our Corps, such a scene of excitement I never have witnessed. About half an hour later it was confirmed by Grant, Meade and Staff riding by. Cannons were immediately whirled into position and commenced firing—such a hollering I never heard. Cheer after cheer went up—hats thrown high into the air—men throwing their arms up and swinging their caps and every other type of demonstrations of joy were going on. I began to think the Band ought to play a part too—I found Herbert playing with only five members! Hail Columbia—the rest soon joined. As we played I looked at our division in front of us—there everything was in motion—the air was full of caps and hats—officers from General Seymore down to Lieuts. were on their horses “riding every which way!” Flags were waving—cheer after cheer from thousands of soldiers rent the air and it seemed as if there would be no end to the noise. Just try to imagine, if you can, seeing all this and hearing the yelling of the men batteries firing blanks and bands playing (other bands took up the strains). It is almost impossible to describe the joy these men were showing. For an attempt to describe it think of bees when they are swarming and imagine every one to be a man and you will get a faint idea.
What a week’s work! In one week we have eaten up Lee’s whole army army—taking large mouthfuls every day. He had about 80,000 men, and now all that armed force is powerless. It is now proof positive of the great wisdom of General Grant, by the help of God, that this is the time we have been so anxiously waiting for, for so long. There will be no more war! The forces will speedily surrender I think. The question now is, how long will we be kept here—I think we shall be home in a month from today, at the fartherest. They will settle the business as speedily as possible and discharge us to save expense. There will be negroes and veterans enough left to garrison the Ports.
The story is that Lee surrendered to the 2nd and 6th Corps because they were the only ones who ever broke his lines! There is no other news this morning. We are wondering what we shall do next, and where we shall go. We are now within 25 miles of Lynchburg and not far from 100 miles of the city of Petersburg. I wouldn’t wonder but that we will go to Harper’s Ferry.
Did I tell you that when we passed through Petersburg on April 3rd we saw President Lincoln? (I don’t remember)—he was on horseback and was surrounded by a crowd of colored people shouting, “God bless Massa Lincoln”. Everyone was cheering and at the same time asking for something to eat—“give me some hard-tack”
Today is rainy and cold—the mail goes out at 6:00 p.m. and it is now 5:00—I expect mail tonight. My dearest love to you always.
—Your Charlie
Sensitive to the humiliation felt by Lee and his defeated soldiers, Grant, upon hearing his men explode into cheers and fire their guns in celebration, ordered them to stop. “The war is over,” he declared, “The Rebels are our countrymen again.” (The war, in fact, was not entirely over; small isolated actions continued in the South and West for months. The last Confederate troops laid down their weapons in June 1865.) Grant also offered Lee rations for his starving army. “This will be very gratifying,” Lee replied, “and do much toward conciliating our people.” Lee then told his mostly speechless, broken-down soldiers to “go home now” and become “good citizens” to their country, soon to be reunited again. But thoughts of reconciliation came harder to Robert E. Lee’s wife, Mary Custis. (Mrs. Lee was unable to leave Richmond during the invasion due to the pain from severe arthritis, and a Union cavalryman who happened to be black was posted at her house to ensure her safety. She demanded he be replaced with a white man. He was.) Writing a short letter to her cousin Mary after the official surrender, Mrs. Lee justified her husband’s actions and reflected on what he, their sons Fitzhugh and Robert—who both served in the war—and the South itself had endured. (There is no salutation to the letter, and the reference to “our President” is to Jefferson Davis, who had fled Richmond by train.)
I have just heard my dear cousin Mary of an opportunity to write to tell you that we are all well as usual and thru’ the mercy of God all spared thru’ the terrible ordeal thru’ which we have passed—I feel that I could have blessed God if those who were prepared had filled a soldiers grave. I blessed Him that they are spared I trust for a future usefulness to their poor unhappy country. My little Rob has not yet come in but we have reason to think he is safe.
Tho’ it has not pleased Almighty God to crown our exertions with success in the way & manner we expected yet we must still trust & pray not that our will but His may be done in Heaven & in earth. I could not believe I’d tell you of the startling events that have been crowded into the last few weeks, but I want you all to know that when Gen’l Lee surrendered that the enemy by their own account had nearly 80 thousand men well provisioned & equipped while ours had been out 7 days with only 2 days rations that they were fighting by day & marching all night without even time to parch their corn their only food for several days, that even in this exhausted state they drove back the hosts of the enemy but could not follow up their advantage that had Grant demanded an unconditional surrender they had determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible & cut their way thru’ his encircling hosts, but the conditions he offered were so honorable that Gen’l Lee decided it was wrong to sacrifice the lives of those brave men when no object could be gained by it.
For my part it will always be a source of pride & consolation to me to know that all mine have risked their lives fortune & even fame for so holy a cause—We can hear nothing certain from our President—may God bless & protect them—we can only pray for them—our plans are all unsettled. Gen’l Lee is very busy getting up his army matters & then we shall probably go to some of those empty places in the vicinity of the White House. Fitzhugh has gone down there to see what he can do but that place is an utter scene of desolation—so is our whole country & the cruel policy of the enemy has accomplished its work too well. They have achieved by starvation what they could never win by their valor & nor have they taken a single town in the South except Vicksburg that we have not evacuated. Dear Cousin write me about you all & how you manage to exist would that I were able to help you. I do not think we shall be here very long therefore unless you can write at once you had better wait till you hear from me again.
The girls & the General write in love. He is wonderfully well considering all he has endured. Nanny South’s wife is fine & several of her boys who have come in—Love to all friends.
Ever affectionately yours,
M C Lee
After the fall of Richmond, and before Lee’s surrender, President Lincoln wanted to visit the old Confederate capital firsthand. “Thank God I have lived to see this,” he remarked, walking through the demolished city on April 3, “It seems to me that I have been dreaming a horrid nightmare for four years, and now the nightmare is over.” On April 14—exactly four years to the day the American flag was lowered in defeat at Fort Sumter—a cheerful, visibly relieved President Lincoln went to Ford’s Theatre with his wife and two guests to see a comedy, Our American Cousin. Soon after the president’s sole bodyguard stepped away, John Wilkes Booth walked quietly behind the president and fired a single shot into his head. Major William Child, a surgeon from New Hampshire who had treated wounded soldiers throughout the war, was in Ford’s Theatre across from the president when it happened. Still reeling from the historic event, he dashed off the following letter to his wife.
Washington, D.C.
Apr. 14. 1865
My Dear Wife
Wild dreams and real facts are but brothers. This night I have seen the murder of the President of the United States.
Early in the evening I went to Fords Theater. After a little time the President entered—was greeted with cheers. The play went on for about an hour. Just at the close of an interesting scene a sharp quick report of a pistol was heard and instantly a man jumped from the box in which was the President, to the stage—and rushing across the stage made his escape. This I saw and heard. I was in the theatre—and sat opposite the Presidents box. The murderer assassin exclaimed as he leaped “Sic Sempur Tyrannis”—“Thus always to tyrants.”
I never saw such a wild scene as followed. I have no words to describe it.
Sect. Seward was also wounded by a knife about the same minute. The city is now wild with excitement. The affair occured only an hour since.
Are we living in the days of the French Revolution? Will peace ever come again to our dear land? Are we to rush on to wild ruin?
It seems all a dream—a wild dream. I cannot realize it though I know I saw it only an hour since.
W.C.
Abraham Lincoln died the next day at 7:22 A.M. It was the first time in American history a president had been murdered, and it marked the beginning of a period rife with social and political animosity. Enraged Northerners accused Southern leaders of conspiring to have Lincoln killed. Southerners fumed about the arrest and imprisonment of their former president, Jefferson Davis. The United States Congress imposed draconian laws on the South, inciting subversive, white supremacist organizations like the Ku Klux Klan. But the majority of the country was sick of war and sick of fighting. Spoken just five weeks before his death, the words of Lincoln’s second inaugural address—“with malice toward none, with charity for all”—resonated deeply. The United States of America was a nation again, and four million men, women, and children—approximately one in every eight Americans—were freed from bondage. “Strange, (is it not?),” the poet and war nurse Walt Whitman mused, “that battles, martyrs, blood, even assassination should so condense—perhaps only really, lastingly condense—a Nationality.”