Let Us Have Peace

Ulysses S. Grant and the Politics of War and Reconstruction, 1861-1868

Brooks D. Simpson

• Publisher: The University of North Carolina Press
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781469617466
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: American Civil War History
• Index: History

Historians have traditionally drawn distinctions between Ulysses S. Grant's military and political careers. In Let Us Have Peace, Brooks Simpson questions such distinctions and offers a new understanding of this often enigmatic leader. He argues that during the 1860s Grant was both soldier and politician, for military and civil policy were inevitably intertwined during the Civil War and Reconstruction era. According to Simpson, Grant instinctively understood that war was 'politics by other means.' Moreover, he realized that civil wars presented special challenges: reconciliation, not conquest, was the Union's ultimate goal. And in peace, Grant sought to secure what had been won in war, stepping in to assume a more active role in policymaking when the intransigence of white Southerners and the obstructionist behavior of President Andrew Johnson threatened to spoil the fruits of Northern victory.

1: A SOLDIER’S DUTY

On April 15, 1861, news reached Galena of the fall of Fort Sumter. The next day, the townspeople met in the courthouse to decide what to do. Grant was there. So was John A. Rawlins, who had angrily declared, “There can be but two parties now, one of patriots and one of traitors!” Galena’s mayor made a feeble plea for compromise; Republican congressman Elihu B. Washburne, sensing the need for a more vigorous response, offered resolutions to raise two companies of troops; Rawlins led the town’s Democrats into the fold for war with a rousing speech. Afterward, Grant turned to his brother Orvil and quietly announced his decision to reenter the service.¹

Two days later, Galena’s citizens gathered again to raise recruits for the new army. Washburne thought it would be a good idea to have a military man, especially one of Democratic leanings, chosen as presiding officer. No sooner had the meeting been brought to order than Grant was named to the position. More than a little surprised, the ex-captain had no idea that he would be thrust forward so suddenly after years of being overlooked. “With much embarrassment and some prompting I made out to announce the object of the meeting,” he remembered years later. Washburne and others offered him some relief by addressing the assemblage. Within days, Galena had enough volunteers to fill a company, and the Mexican War veteran spent the next weeks outfitting and drilling them.²

Grant was not easily roused by show, but he was deeply moved by the new crisis, for his allegiance to the Union was a most cherished belief. Partisan politics would have to take a back seat to the struggle to preserve the Union. “Now is the time, particularly in the border Slave states, for men to prove their love of country,” he wrote to his father-in-law. “I know it is hard for men to apparently work with the Republican party but now all party distinctions should be lost sight of and every true patriot be for maintaining the integrity of the glorious old Stars & Stripes, the Constitution and the Union.” This included himself. “Whatever may have been my political opinions before,” he assured his father, “I have but one sentiment now. That is we have a Government, and laws and a flag and they must all be sustained.” Echoing Rawlins, he added, “There are but two parties now, Traitors & Patriots”; he was “with the latter, and I trust, the stronger party.”³

Although Grant had made clear in the past his opposition to what he believed to be the extreme positions on slavery advocated by some Republicans, he had no doubt as to who was responsible for the war. To him, it was evident “that in all these troubles the South have been the aggressors.” Moreover, if Southerners in their calculations had counted upon Northern indifference or lack of commitment, they had made a serious error. Talk of Yankee apathy was absurd. Grant, astounded at the outpouring of patriotism, commented that “the rebels may truly quaik.” If Southerners knew what they had wrought, “they would lay down their arms at once in humble submission.”⁴

As for slavery, Grant realized that, with the commencement of hostilities, things would never be the same again. Southerners were risking the foundation of their society even as they defended it. “In all this I can but see the doom of Slavery,” he warned his father-in-law. “The North do not want, nor will they want, to interfere with the institution. But they will refuse for all time to give it protection unless the South shall return soon to their allegiance.” The disruption of the Southern economy by war would render the South vulnerable to international competition, reducing the worth of slaves “so much that they will never be worth fighting over again.” Slavery would be destroyed as a consequence of prolonged conflict, becoming a casualty of events rather than the target of Union policy.⁵

But Grant did not foresee a lengthy conflict. “My own opinion is that this War will be but of short duration,” he predicted. With “a few decisive victories” by the North, the “howling” Confederates would flee the field. Even then, however, he was not sure whether hostilities, no matter how quickly terminated, might not erode what the Confederate vice president Alexander H. Stephens called “the cornerstone of the Confederacy”—the peculiar institution of black servitude. “All the states will then be loyal for a generation to come, negroes will depreciate so rapidly in value that no body will want to own them and their masters will be the loudest in their declamations against the institutions in a political and economic view.” Slavery would die, and “the nigger will never disturb this country again.”⁶

Thus abolition was inevitable, in Grant’s mind, from the moment the conflict started—not as a matter of principle but as a result of events. That it might be gradual did not disturb him, for Grant had always believed that immediate emancipation would be disruptive and possibly counterproductive. Slavery might collapse as a result of the war, but he had no desire to hasten its destruction. Abolition as a war aim would exacerbate existing differences, promote disorder, and make reunion more difficult. Indeed, he expressed some concern that slaves might take matters into their own hands and rise up in insurrection against their masters, causing a real revolution. Perhaps the forces raised to subdue the rebellion would have to be used to quell slave uprisings. He did not doubt that Northerners “would go on such a mission and with the purest of motives.” But Grant did not automatically count himself among those Northerners. Once, when he heard an officer declare his willingness to join Southerners in suppressing slave revolts, Grant exploded, “I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, but I must say that any officer who can make such a declaration is not far from being a traitor!”⁷

In short to Grant the war presented a new opportunity for the country. The bickering divisiveness of party politics would be replaced by a resurgence in patriotism and selfless service, creating the kind of world in which he believed he would thrive. Moreover, the mere advent of armed conflict might well mean the end of slavery. Should the war drag on, Grant perceived that abolition could become, out of necessity, a Union war aim. But he did not consider that possibility a likely one. Indeed, he was so convinced that it would be a short war that he feared that he never would take part in it.

In light of later events, Grant’s search for a command appears almost comic. At Springfield, Governor Richard Yates kept the old West Pointer around to drill men, inspect weapons, even file forms, but Grant wanted a regiment to command. He refused to engage in overt “log-rolling” or “political wave pulling” for a colonelcy, although he was aware that he stood to benefit from his acquaintance with Washburne and Yates. But he was willing to travel to Ohio to seek a regimental command or a position on the staff of newly minted Maj. Gen. George B. McClellan. Finally, on June 15, Yates put him in charge of the Seventh Congressional District Regiment (later the Twenty-first Illinois), displacing a man whose mismanagement of his recruits had nearly caused them to mutiny. (Ironically, McClellan had reviewed the regiment just that day, and pronounced himself satisfied with it—a hint of his ability for self-delusion.) Within a month, Grant was in Missouri, ready to see his first action. “I assure you my heart is in the cause I have espoused,” he told his father, “and however I may have disliked party Republicanism there has never been a day that I would not have taken up arms for a Constitutional Administration.”⁸

Disciplining his command was not merely a matter of preparing it for combat. Grant knew from his own experiences in the Mexican War that the conduct of soldiers made an impression upon the civilian population. Well-behaved soldiers would dispel Rebel propaganda about marauding Yankees, which in turn might make Southerners more docile under occupation and more willing for reunion. Such considerations were especially crucial in the upper South, where the population was fairly closely divided between loyalists and secessionists. Missouri, although still in the Union, was wavering, and the new colonel wanted to ensure that his men did nothing to fuel rumors of evil invaders. He kept a close eye on his soldiers, making sure that they did not disturb citizens along the line of march. Soon it appeared that he had met with some success. He told Julia that, although there existed “a terrible state of fear among the people” when his regiment arrived, within a few weeks they discovered that the soldiers “are not the desperate characters they took them for.” He was convinced that “if orderly troops could be marched through this country . . . it would create a very different state of feeling from what exists now.”⁹

Many Missourians, disregarding recent congressional resolutions and the pledges of Union military authorities, persisted in the belief that the Yankees aimed at abolition. “You can’t convince them but what the ultimate object is to extinguish, by force, slavery,” Grant complained to his father. Of course, these perceptions, misguided though they might be, only fortified the Southern will to resist by any means possible. Grant confided to Julia his concern that the war was getting out of hand. Not only were the citizens “great fools,” but also they “will never rest until they bring upon themselvs all the horrors of war in its worst form. The people are inclined to carry on a guerilla Warfare that must eventuate in retaliation and when it does commence it will be hard to control.” Should the conduct of hostilities transcend conventional boundaries, the war would embitter both the victor and the vanquished, making it all the more difficult to achieve a lasting peace. Moreover, to abandon notions of a limited war in favor of a people’s struggle carried with it revolutionary implications. Even though both sides may have gone to war to preserve something, an escalation of conflict—whatever the result—promised to transform American society.¹⁰

Grant experienced Southern foolishness firsthand from an old business partner, Harry Boggs. Early in August, Grant received word that he had been promoted to brigadier general (the result of Washburne’s unsolicited lobbying), and he decided to visit St. Louis, as if to show everyone that he finally had a job. There he encountered Boggs, who exploded in anger at the sight of his old real estate associate, declaring that Grant would never be welcome at his house and that the people of Illinois “were a poor misserable set of Black Republicans, Abolition paupers that had to invade their state to get something to eat.” The new general was so pleased to be returning in triumph to his old town that he dismissed Boggs as “a pittiful insignificant fellow” and told him that he could not respond in anger—setting off yet another barrage of Boggs’s profanity.¹¹

Nor were such outbursts limited to old friends. Colonel Dent was already grumbling about his “Federal son-in-law,” conveniently forgetting that his own son Fred remained in the U.S. Army. And from his Virginia relatives Grant heard an earful. His Aunt Rachel, lying sick in Virginia, gathered enough energy to dictate to his sister Clara a letter justifying secession. She had lost patience with “the harsh jargon of fanatical tirades against the institutions & people of the South.” Most Yankees were “blinded by prejudice, led on by a desire for military fame, prompted by the prospect of plunder” or worse. These “Vandals of the North,” this “set of Murderers,” would never defeat the mighty South. As for her nephew, Rachel Tompkins told Clara Grant, “If you can justify your Bro. Ulysses in drawing his sword against those connected by the ties of blood, and even boast of it, you are at liberty to do so,” but she could not. “And should one of those kindred be stricken down by his sword the awful judgment of God will be meted out to him, &, if not repented of, the hot thunderbolts of His wrath will blaze round his soul through eternity.”¹²

Such flashes of temper, revealing the depth of Southern anger, made Grant wonder how long the conflict would last. Perhaps reconciliation would not be so easy after all. “I have changed my mind so much that I dont know what to think,” he told his sister Mary. Although he still thought that the Rebels could be crushed by next April, “they are so dogged that there is no telling when they may be subdued.” Stiffening resistance in Missouri lent substance to this impression. Grant soon adopted a tougher line toward secessionist sympathizers, arresting several to prevent them from relaying information, closing down a newspaper, and warning businessmen not to trade with Confederates. If Southerners were determined to wage hard war, Grant would respond in kind.¹³

Inevitably, such a struggle would affect the institution of slavery. Grant had always maintained that Northerners would not support slavery while the South continued to fight. Now he had to confront the issue of slavery in a war zone. Despite his disinclination to become involved in political questions, his actions in Missouri unavoidably carried political overtones. Whatever he did—whether he liberated slaves, left them alone, returned them to their masters, or followed Benjamin F. Butler’s decision in Norfolk, Virginia, to accept refugees as “contraband of war”—was in effect a political statement, as were his policies toward Southerners restless under occupied rule. In the past, Grant had turned away from his lines both fugitive slaves and masters seeking their recovery. “We’re not here to look after Negroes, but after Rebels,” he explained to a black refugee seeking sanctuary. Grant’s policy did not reflect his personal sentiments about slavery. One observer noted that Grant “was at heart and in expression an anti-slavery man, yet he had but little sympathy with the previous movements and opinion of the so-called ultra-Abolitionists.” Grant “believed slavery to be an anomaly in a free government”; it “was subversive of the best interests of the master and the enslaved”; and it “hindered the development of the highest interests of humanity.” His private sentiments and Union policy dictated that suppressing the rebellion remain the primary war aim. But the issue of fugitives would not go away. When Gen. John C. Frémont ordered Grant to take command of troops concentrating in southeast Missouri, he encountered the issue for the first time. Arriving at Cape Girardeau on August 30, Grant observed “Contrabands, in the shape of negroes,” working on the fortifications. “I will make enquiries how they come here and if the fact has not been previously reported ask instructions,” he informed Frémont’s headquarters at St. Louis, in an effort to avoid initiating policies that interfered with slavery.¹⁴

Frémont did not share Grant’s desire to stay out of politics; perhaps the new brigadier’s recollection of his superior’s political past prepared him for what was to come. On the day Grant arrived at Cape Girardeau, Frémont, tired of harassment by Confederate sympathizers, satisfied both his abolitionist beliefs and his personal ambitions by issuing a proclamation that imposed martial law on Missouri, confiscated the property of active Confederate supporters, and declared their slaves free. Col. John Cook, commanding at Cape Girardeau, asked Grant for instructions. “Protect all loyal Citizens in all their right[s],” Grant replied, “but carry out the proclamation of Genl Fremont upon all subjects known to come under it.” Frémont’s order was soon countermanded by Lincoln, but it had alerted Grant to the possibility that the war could assume a wider scope and thus involve him in the very political questions he wished to avoid. Lincoln’s removal of Frémont several months later also reminded the new brigadier of the cost of violating established policy.¹⁵

Grant’s decision to invade Kentucky in September 1861 provided him with an opportunity to outline his concept of the aims of the war. Through August, Kentucky had managed to preserve a precarious neutrality. Neither side had set foot in the state, although it was obvious that sooner or later Union troops would have to enter Kentucky to launch an offensive to recapture Tennessee. Frémont had sent Grant to southeast Missouri to plan for just such an operation, but Confederate forces under Leonidas Polk invaded Kentucky on September 3, conveniently relieving the Yankees of the onus of disrupting the status quo. In response, Grant advanced his troops across the Ohio River to Paducah, Kentucky, on September 6. He had de...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Let Us Have Peace
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• CONTENTS
• ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
• INTRODUCTION
• PROLOGUE: “THE SOUTH WILL FIGHT”
• 1: A SOLDIER’S DUTY
• 2: WAR IN EARNEST
• 3: SWORD AND OLIVE BRANCH
• 4: THE WORD OF GENERAL GRANT
• 5: FROM CONCILIATION TO PROTECTION
• 6: WALKING A POLITICAL TIGHTROPE
• 7: HARDLY A PARTY MATTER
• 8: GRANT VERSUS JOHNSON
• 9: THE PRESIDENTIAL QUESTION
• 10: “IN SPITE OF MYSELF”
• EPILOGUE: THE FRUITS OF VICTORY
• NOTES
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• INDEX