Ulysses S. Grant: The ‘Unconditional Surrender Continues

Grant did not threaten dire consequences if Lee refused his offer, as he had done with Buckner at Donelson, but it was his intention to keep pushing the Confederates, hopefully toward the peace table, until “terms are agreed upon.” Having determined each other’s whereabouts and willingness to talk, both commanders kept the lines of communication open. Lee blinked first. Late on the night of April 8-9, he sent a dispatch proposing a face-to-face meeting the next morning, albeit for the sole purpose of exploring terms. Grant ignored Lee’s stubborn refusal to use the word “surrender” in any of his communications to this point, but he kept the pressure on by waiting several hours before composing a reply. In it he accepted the desirability of a face-to-face meeting while making it clear that he was only authorized to discuss terms for the Army of Northern Virginia to “lay down their arms.” At 11 a.m., while Grant was inspecting his lines, Lee’s reply caught up with him. For the first time, the commander of the Army of Northern Virginia used the fateful words, speaking of “the surrender of this army” and requesting an interview with Grant to that end. It was the turning point.

Grant and Lee let their staffs arrange the meeting place, but this time it would be neither commanding general’s headquarters. The agreed-upon neutral ground was Wilmer McLean’s home in the village of Appomattox Court House. Grant took along his personal staff, plus Generals Philip Sheridan and O.C. Ord. Grant arrived at the meeting place after Lee, and per his habit wore a field uniform, mud-spattered boots and no sword. Lee, accompanied by a single aide, Colonel Charles Marshall, was dressed to the nines. The two men greeted each other cordially, not because they were old friends, but because it was the nature of both. The tension in the room was a product of the situation, not of either commander’s behavior.

Grant followed the same script he had with Buckner and Pemberton, starting the discussions by making small talk that recalled happier days when they had fought on the same side. It was Lee who finally brought the conversation around to business. He asked what terms Grant was offering. This was Grant’s opportunity to demand unconditional surrender, but instead he adopted a more conciliatory approach. Confederates must lay down their arms and go home, promising not to take up arms again unless they were properly exchanged. Those terms were acceptable to Lee, and the conversation wandered off the subject once more, as though the two commanders were relieved at having found common ground for settling this unpleasant business. At some point Grant lit up one of his ever-present cigars and puffed away. Lee again reined the conversation in when he suggested that Grant commit the terms to paper. Grant, taking on the role of corresponding secretary for the two of them, took pen in hand and, after thinking for a few moments, began to write in his order book, not in the flowery rhetoric reserved for historic documents but in clear, simple prose.

Lee’s ornate sword was very much on Grant’s mind during the meeting, leading him to the thought that “it would be an unnecessary humiliation to require [Confederate] officers to surrender their swords,” and so that was omitted from the terms. Along the same lines, he decided to let Lee’s officers keep their side arms, horses and “personal baggage.” Unlike at Vicksburg, he no longer believed that personal baggage could be construed to include slaves.

He did exceed his military authority when he wrote that “each officer and man will be allowed to return to their homes not to be disturbed by U.S. authority so long as they observe their parole and the laws in force where they may reside.” Here, Grant was on thin ice, but he had the confidence of knowing the president felt the same way. He also had the imposing authority of his own immense reputation to reinforce his language. In other words, he had little fear of being overruled by the politicians in Washington.