Team of Rivals_ The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln - Doris Kearns Goodwin [464]
Regarding Jefferson Davis and his top political leaders, Lincoln privately wished they could somehow “escape the country,” though he could not say this in public. “As usual,” Sherman recalled, “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, [the man] 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.’” Sherman grasped the point immediately. “Mr. Lincoln wanted Davis to escape, ‘unbeknown’ to him.”
Later that afternoon, Sherman left City Point to return to his troops and prepare for the expected battle. Saying goodbye to the president, he “was more than ever impressed by his kindly nature, his deep and earnest sympathy with the afflictions of the whole people,” and his “absolute faith in the courage, manliness, and integrity of the armies in the field.” To be sure, “his face was care-worn and haggard; but, the moment he began to talk, his face lightened up, his tall form, as it were, unfolded, and he was the very impersonation of good-humor and fellowship.” A decade later, Sherman remained convinced of Lincoln’s unparalleled leadership. “Of all the men I ever met, he seemed to possess more of the elements of greatness, combined with goodness, than any other.”
Lincoln walked to the railroad station early the next morning to bid farewell to Grant, who was heading to the front for what they hoped would be the final offensive against Lee. Oppressed by thoughts of the expected battle, “Lincoln looked more serious than at any other time since he had visited headquarters,” recalled Horace Porter; “the lines in his face seemed deeper, and the rings under his eyes were of a darker hue.” As the train pulled away from the platform, Grant and his party tipped their hats in honor of the president. Returning the salute, his “voice broken by an emotion he could ill conceal,” Lincoln said: “Good-by, gentlemen, God bless you all!”
As Grant was leaving City Point, Seward was heading south to join Lincoln. “I think the President must have telegraphed for him,” Welles surmised, “and if so I came to the conclusion that efforts are again being made for peace. I am by no means certain that this irregular proceeding and importunity on the part of the Executive is the wisest course.” The Tribune concurred: “We presume no person of even average sagacity has imagined that the President of the United States had gone down to the front at such a time as this in quest merely of pleasure, or leisure or health even.” That he hoped to “bring peace with him on his return,” the editorial suggested, was “too palpable to be doubted.”
Though Lincoln clearly would have loved “to bring peace with him on his return,” he went to City Point with no intention of engaging in further negotiations. He had, in fact, sought a “change of air & rest,” as well as the chance “to escape the unceasing and relentless pressure of visitors.” More important, he wanted to underscore his directive that Grant should converse with Lee only with regard to capitulation or solely military concerns. Grant was “not to decide, discuss, or confer upon any political question. Such questions the President holds in his own hands.” Lincoln wished to ensure that his lenient policy toward the rebels would not be undercut by a punitive agenda.
He knew that work was accumulating on his desk as his second week of absence from Washington began, but he was not yet ready to return. “I begin to feel that I ought to be at home,” he telegraphed