APPOMATTOX – INCIDENTS OF LEE’S SURRENDER
The story as told by a Union officer who was there. The meeting of the two Generals – A Painful Scene in which the Victor was as much Embarrassed as the Vanquished.
An interesting contribution to the current discussion about the circumstances of General Lee’s surrender was made by General George H. Sharpe, formerly of the Army of the Potomac, in a Decoration Day [May 31] address at Mount Kisco, New York. We give the story as General Sharpe related it.
I remember – and it was recalled to me tonight in conversation, when the name of General Grant came up in the course of conversation – the wonderful scene that transpired in the little place in Virginia on 6th [sic 9th] April, 1865. It was late in the afternoon when it became known that General Lee had sent for General Grant to surrender to him. It was between 2 and 3 o’clock when we met in the little room in the house where the surrender of Lee’s army took place. I know there is a belief that the surrender took place under an apple tree, where Grant and Lee met and exchanged a few words. The surrender took place in the left-hand room of that old-fashioned double house. The house had a large piazza which ran along the full length of it. It was one of those ordinary Virginia houses with a passageway running through the center of it. In that little room where the meeting took place sat two young men—one a great-grandson of Chief Justice Marshall, of the Supreme Court, reduced to writing the terms of the surrender on behalf of Robert E. Lee, the other, a man with dusky countenance—a great nephew of that celebrated chief, Red Jacket—acting under General Grant. The two were reduced to writing the terms of the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia to the Army of the Potomac. Gathered around the room were several officers, of whom I was one.
At some distance apart sat two men, one the most remarkable man of his day and generation. The larger and older of the two was the most striking in his appearance. His hair was white as the driven snow. There was not a speck upon his coat, not a spot upon those gauntlets that he wore, which were as bright and fair as a lady’s glove. That was Robert E. Lee. The other was Ulysses S. Grant, whose appearance contrasted strangely with that of Lee, his boots were nearly covered with mud, one button of his coat—that is the buttonhole was not where it should have been—it had clearly gone astray, and he wore no sword, while Lee was fully and faultlessly equipped. The conversation was not rapid by any means. Everybody felt the overpowering influence of the scene. Everyone present felt they were witnessing the proceedings between the two chief actors in one of the most remarkable transactions of this nineteenth century. The words that passed between Grant and Lee were few. General Grant—endeavoring to apologize for not being fully prepared and noticing the faultless appearance of Lee—while the secretaries were busy said—“General Lee, I have no sword. I have been riding all night.” And Lee with that coldness of manner and all the pride—almost haughtiness—which after all became him wonderfully well, never made any reply, but in a cold, formal manner bowed. And General Grant, in an endeavor to take away the great awkwardness of the scene, said: “I don’t always wear a sword because a sword is a very inconvenient thing.” That was a remarkable thing for him to say, considering that he was in the presence one who was about to surrender his sword. Lee only bowed again. Another, trying to relieve the awkwardness of the occasion, inquired, “General Lee, what became of that white horse you rode in Mexico? He might not be dead yet, he was not so old?” General Lee bowed coldly, and replied, “I left him at the White House in Pamunky river, and I have not seen him since.” There was one moment when there was a whispered conversation between Grant and Lee, which nobody in the room heard.
The surrender took the form of correspondence; these letters were then signed in due form, by the chief actors, in the presence of each other. Finally when the terms of the surrender had all been arranged, and the surrender made, Lee arose, cold and proud and bowed to every person in the room on our side. I remember each one of us thought he had been specially bowed to. And then he went out and passed down the little square in front of the house, and bestrode that gray horse that carried him all over Virginia, and when he had gone away, we learned what the whispered conversation had been about. General Grant called his officers about and said: “You go to the 24th and you to the 5th,” and so on, naming the corps, “and ask every man who had three rations to turn over two of them. Go to the commissaries and go to the quartermasters, etc.” General Lee’s army is on the point of starvation! And 25,000 rations were carried to the Army of Northern Virginia.*
* Source: Philadelphia Times, June 30, 1877