While Sherman was governing the city of Savannah and fencing with Secretary of War Edwin Stanton, he was also exchanging messages with Grant, planning the next move northward to end the war.

Happily for Sherman, a historic development eased his planning problems tremendously. On December 15 and 16, 1864, General George Thomas’s Army of the Cumberland and William Schofield’s Army of the Ohio had burst out of their defenses at Nashville and had inflicted on John B. Hood’s Army of the Tennessee practically the only battle of annihilation of the entire Civil War. For the moment, at least, Hood’s army had ceased to exist, and Sherman no longer had to look over his shoulder as he planned to join Grant. Both Sherman and Grant hoped that the Confederates would be unable to put the pieces back together again. Even were they able to do so, the Army of the Tennessee would no longer be the same professional fighting force that had resisted Sherman all the way from Chattanooga to Atlanta.

On December 27, 1864, Grant wrote Sherman a message explaining his plans for his future actions. He began by approving Sherman’s idea to march overland to join him at Petersburg. “The effect of such a campaign,” he wrote, “will be to disorganize the South, and prevent the organization of new armies from their broken fragments.”¹ He went on to observe that Hood’s army was “broken and demoralized,” having lost an estimated twenty thousand men. The fragments might eventually be collected, he admitted, and “we should act to prevent this.” He hoped that Schofield, still with Thomas in the area of Nashville, could see to that.

Grant visualized another possibility, admittedly remote: Lee might possibly abandon the trenches defending Petersburg and make his way to North Carolina and attack Sherman. “In the event you should meet Lee’s army,” Grant wrote, “you would be compelled to beat it or find the sea-coast. Of course, I shall not let Lee’s army escape if I can help it, and will not let it go without following to the best of my ability.”²

The matter of an overland march settled, Sherman began making detailed plans. He decided to move on Columbia, South Carolina, in two columns. The left column would march directly, but he had one other consideration in mind: The coastal railroad between Savannah and Charleston was important, and must not only be cut, but kept cut. He therefore planned to send his right wing (Howard) along that railroad for some twenty miles and establish a firm base, strong enough to ensure that the railroad would not be repaired. The town of Pocotaligo would be an excellent place for such a base. Howard’s right wing could march from Savannah to Pocotaligo, set up a permanent base, and then turn north on the Salkehatchie River.

—

In the middle of January 1865, an event occurred that promised to make Sherman’s march through the Carolinas even more significant. Union forces finally managed to capture Fort Fisher, North Carolina, a bastion that dominated the mouth of the Cape Fear River that leads up to Wilmington, the last important seaport remaining to the Confederacy. Previous Union attempts had been made to take the fort from both land and sea, but up to this time its large guns had been able to stave off all such attacks.³ But now a new division, under Major General Alfred Terry, had succeeded. On January 15, Terry’s men had crossed the Cape Fear River at a point north of the fort, turned south, and taken it. A couple of weeks later the city of Wilmington itself also fell. The noose around Lee’s army, which all active Union forces were engaged in tightening, was practically complete.

—

Sherman left Savannah on February 1, 1865, following Howard’s right wing for the twenty-some miles to the already established base at Pocotaligo. He was pleasantly surprised to learn from Howard of the haste with which the Confederates had evacuated the position. In a letter to Ellen, he happily conjectured that possibly his own terrible reputation had influenced their action.

At Pocotaligo, Sherman turned inland and followed Howard’s right wing northward to join Slocum at Columbia. As in his march through Georgia, Howard’s wing traveled by several parallel roads, and on Sherman’s order followed the same foraging policies as those he had exercised in his march to Savannah. On meeting at Columbia they would again march separately but in fairly close proximity to each other. Fayetteville would be the first objective, and then both wings would continue to Goldsboro. There Sherman hoped to pick up Schofield’s Army of the Ohio, en route from Nashville. That was as far as Sherman could foresee when he left Savannah. From then on, he and Grant would have to make new plans.

Before Sherman left Columbia, somebody set fire to the city. Sherman then and later disclaimed responsibility. Columbia was not Atlanta. The truth of the matter has never been settled.

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It was at the Battle of Monroe’s Crossroads, on the site of present-day Fort Bragg, that a battle was fought that gave Sherman’s men a much-needed chuckle. It was strictly a cavalry affair, and the results were indecisive. A special animosity existed between Sherman and Confederate cavalry commander Wade Hampton, who accused the Yankees of deliberately burning down private homes while on the march. Hampton reputedly had gone so far as to hang eight Union soldiers who had allegedly committed such acts. Sherman made a counterthreat. None of the threats were carried out.

One Union general, Brigadier General Hugh Judson Kilpatrick, was certainly guilty. Kilpatrick was a good cavalryman and had performed well in battle, including Gettysburg. But he was uncouth, corrupt, and downright cruel, both to his men and to civilians. He was as unpopular among the soldiers of Sherman’s army as he was elsewhere. Sherman kept him for his fighting qualities.

Wade Hampton decided to take revenge on Kilpatrick. On March 10, 1865, he moved on the Union troops at Monroe’s Crossroads, and by some luck knew of his target’s whereabouts. He organized a handpicked patrol and sent them toward Kilpatrick’s tent at first dawn.

Kilpatrick’s security was poor and he was caught asleep. Hastily aroused, he deserted his female companion and dashed out of camp in his nightshirt. Taking safety in a swamp, he was soon retrieved and succeeded in organizing his men to the point that the battle was meaningless.

But from then on the Battle of Monroe’s Crossroads was known as the Battle of Kilpatrick’s Nightshirt Skedaddle.

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Though the cause of the Confederacy was rapidly degenerating, Grant and Sherman were in for one disappointment. Word came in that Hood had been successful in gathering the fragments of his shattered Army of the Tennessee to form a force of twenty-six thousand men, which he was bringing eastward to oppose Sherman.⁴ Hood himself, however, was finished. He was relieved of command and replaced by Johnston. But the balance of strength was still lopsided. Sherman’s force was more than three times the size of Johnston’s.⁵

Jefferson Davis had brought Joe Johnston back to duty very reluctantly. In doing so, he was much influenced by Lee, whom he had placed for the first time in command of all the armies of the Confederacy. One of Lee’s first acts had been to recommend Johnston’s recall to duty. Though that change did not come easily for Davis, so prestigious was Lee that Johnston’s supporters—of whom there were many—urged Lee to make the change unilaterally, without consulting the president. Lee was too discreet for that insubordinate act, however, and he was able, through sheer persuasion, to secure Davis’s approval.

For his part, Johnston himself was not exuberant over his reappointment to command the rebuilt Army of the Tennessee. He resented serving under Davis even more than Davis resented having him as a subordinate. Nevertheless, Johnston accepted the position but did so in what one historian calls “vintage Johnston” style:

It is too late to expect me to concentrate troops capable of driving back Sherman. The remnant of the Army of Tennessee is much divided. So are other troops. I will get information from General Beauregard as soon as practicable. Is any discretion allowed me? I have no staff.⁶

Johnston was nevertheless concerned about his own reputation. In the past he had been accused of being too unwilling to incur casualties among his men, and he felt that he was still under a cloud for that reason. Therefore, he now concluded that he must at least try to win a battle. The place he chose to make a stand was a field near the small town of Bentonville, North Carolina, more or less halfway between Fayetteville and Goldsboro.

With only twenty thousand men, Johnston’s only hope for even a partial success was to catch one of Sherman’s wings while it was separated from the other. He chose Sherman’s left wing, Slocum’s.

Johnston struck in the middle of the afternoon, March 19, with his left commanded by Braxton Bragg and his right by Hardee. For a short period of time he achieved success. To the north of the Fayetteville road, Slocum’s left, the Union division under William P. Carlin quickly gave way and broke. Slocum’s right, under James D. Morgan, nearly did the same. Morgan, however, managed to survive, if only barely. Neither Johnston nor Sherman was certain where Howard was. His wing actually began arriving on the field of Bentonville that evening.

Sherman had apparently never expected this battle. He seemed, in fact, convinced that serious fighting was finished for the duration of the war—certainly he hoped so. But when this attack occurred he reacted immediately, instructing Howard, who was converging on Goldsboro from the south, to come with all speed. Still, even after Howard’s arrival, Sherman was in no hurry for a slaughter. He spent the entire day of March 20 on the defensive, facing Johnston and building up his force. Johnston, realizing what was facing him, slipped away on March 21, after Sherman had made a small, one-division attack on his position.

Sherman always regretted this action as a tragic and unnecessary battle, and he did not change plans. Rather than pursue Johnston, he continued his concentration on Goldsboro. His choice not to pursue has brought him some criticism for failing to “finish Johnston off.” Whatever merit that viewpoint may have, allowing Johnston to escape avoided any further heavy fighting and its loss of lives. As it turned out, Bentonville was the last pitched battle that the Military Division of the Mississippi would fight.

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As of March 25, 1865, Sherman was feeling secure. His armies were consolidated at Goldsboro, and Johnston had withdrawn beyond reach. His concern—and that of Grant—was now concentrated on two objectives: to prevent Lee from pulling his army out of his fortifications at Petersburg and joining with Johnston, and to bring the war to a close without another bloody battle. A message from Grant confirmed all this.

At this point, Sherman had developed an itch to see his boss, and he determined to visit Grant’s headquarters at City Point. Accordingly he left Goldsboro on the afternoon of March 25, perfectly confident that Schofield, whom he left in charge, could handle any problems that might arise during his absence. By the morning of March 27 he arrived at the town of City Point, just east of Petersburg.

City Point, a town founded only a few years after Jamestown, was a spectacular sight. It was located on a height above the James River on the north and the Appomattox River on the south. The harbor was jam-packed with vessels carrying supplies to Grant’s troops besieging Lee at nearby Petersburg. The area included seven hospitals that cared for an estimated six thousand wounded or sick a day. Its dock facilities constituted one of the busiest seaports in the world, as Grant’s hundred thousand men were consuming food and ammunition at a fast rate. Grant kept his headquarters in a mansion called Appomattox Manor, which had formerly belonged to a wealthy man named Eppes, the possessor of a hundred and thirty slaves—who had elected to depart the scene with the approach of the Yankees. Immediately on arrival Sherman sent a message to his brother John, inviting him to visit Goldsboro on his own return, and he then went in to see Grant.

Grant, as usual, greeted Sherman effusively, and for at least an hour the two men talked alone. At the end of that time Grant mentioned that President Lincoln was on a two-week visit to City Point and was staying on a small ship, the River Queen, anchored out in the harbor. It would be proper, Grant said, for the two of them to pay a call on the chief executive. They walked down the hill to a dock and were delivered to the president’s vessel.

On boarding the River Queen, Grant and Sherman found Lincoln relaxing on the rear afterdeck. To Sherman’s pleasure, the president remembered him well from the days nearly four years earlier when the then–brigadier general Sherman had demanded, on leaving for the West, to be spared the responsibility of overall command. And since Lincoln had been Grant’s guest for days, the president focused his attention on Sherman, keen to obtain what information he could glean; Grant hardly participated.

One of Lincoln’s concerns was a bit surprising to his guest: his worry about Sherman’s absence from his army at Goldsboro. This despite Sherman’s touting the great number of troops he had amassed at that town and the abilities of Schofield to handle any emergency. In the course of a two-day visit, Sherman later noted, Lincoln mentioned the matter several times. But not all the conversation was serious. Lincoln particularly enjoyed stories of Sherman’s “bummers,” who had experienced humorous confrontations with the country folk between Atlanta and Savannah. The first day’s visit was chiefly a get-acquainted affair, and the two generals soon returned to Grant’s headquarters.

The atmosphere at City Point was hardly the usual all-male camp, for Julia Grant was present. Thus when Grant and Sherman returned to Appomattox Manor, Mrs. Grant’s first question was after Mrs. Mary Todd Lincoln. Grant admitted that she had not been present at the meeting, and Sherman’s defense went even further: He claimed he did not even know of her presence at City Point. Grant hastily promised his wife that an inquiry after Mrs. Lincoln would have first priority on their next visit.

The next day, Grant and Sherman paid another visit to the River Queen, this time accompanied by Admiral David Porter, their old comrade from the days of Vicksburg. The talk was all business. The main topic for discussion was the endgame: how to bring the war to its inevitable conclusion. Here Sherman, always blunt, seems to have taken the initiative. He asked the president, “Have you thought of the peace that will reign after the end of the fighting?” Lincoln assured him that plans for peace were in hand and that it was the job of these generals and this admiral to tend to the fighting.

Sherman, however, persisted, and he asked for instructions as to how to handle Confederate president Jefferson Davis if that unfortunate should fall into his hands. Here Lincoln made a strange admission. He would not say such a thing in public, he said, but he hinted that he would not be unhappy if Davis should make a clean escape. In his memoir Sherman used these words:

Should we allow them to escape, etc.? He said he was all ready; all he wanted of us was to defeat the opposing armies, and to get the men composing the Confederate armies back to their homes, at work on their farms and in their shops. As to Jeff. Davis, he was hardly at liberty to speak his mind fully, but intimated that he ought to clear out, “escape the country,” only it would not do for him to say so openly. As usual, he illustrated his meaning by a story:

“A man once had taken the total-abstinence pledge. When visiting a friend, he was invited to take a drink, but declined, on the score of his pledge; when his friend suggested lemonade, which was accepted. In preparing the lemonade, the friend pointed to the brandy-bottle, and said the lemonade would be more palatable if he were to pour in a little brandy; when his guest said, if he could do so ‘unbeknown’ to him, he would not object.” From which illustration I inferred that Mr. Lincoln wanted Davis to escape, “unbeknown” to him.⁷

This lighthearted treatment of a serious subject was part of a broader, more all-encompassing one. Both Grant and Sherman expected one more bloody battle to be fought against Lee before the Confederacy would admit defeat and surrender; Lincoln did not. The president seemed ready to grant almost any concessions to bring the war to an end. Certainly that is the impression that Sherman received before he departed for Goldsboro later in the day of March 28, 1865.

Sherman regarded the visit at City Point with a feeling of intense satisfaction. Grant had given him permission to reorganize his army,⁸ and they had agreed on his next move. He was even more elated by his conferences with President Lincoln, which were practically one-on-one. In typical Sherman hyperbole, he later wrote of Lincoln that

Of all the men I ever met, he seemed to possess more of the elements of greatness, combined with goodness, than any other.⁹

He was most impressed by Lincoln’s statement that “all he wanted of us was to defeat the opposing armies, and to get the men composing the Confederate armies back to their homes, at work on their farms and in their shops.” To Sherman that meant an order: take all measures necessary to avoid another major battle.¹⁰