The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-09-05

| to those who did not know all. or see far he
sometimes seemed to put ideas into Grant. But
| he got them all first from Grant; and, having
| greater facility of expression, could reveal them
to him, or even impress them their author.
| He never, however, claimed to originate them;
nor did he ever discuss this singular power; he
only exerted it. perhaps. unconscously, as
Grant himself exerted his faculties The
mirror in which maus features are reflected
may sometimes make known to himself what
manner of man he is. But the mirror does not
create the features.
| Later in Grants career after he had seen
much Of the world and had so marvellous an ex-
perience of life and men, he seemed 10 me to be-
come more conscious. Yet it may be that it was
| who grew, not he; that got to know him bet
ter and at last could see what had existed all
along beneath the veil he kept so close about his
intimacy. He was unwilling, it is true, that
friendship even affection, should penetrate
too far; nevertheless, the study Of his character
and deeds for twenty years revealed qualities
and peculiarities which he acknowledged by his
acts. If not his words; and he finally, thought,
became not only willing, but DESTROYS for me to
know some of the workings Of his spirit that few
|
| secrets now, when he cannot be panied, his
silent shade will not reproach me, for it is to
make him loved and honored by others as ne was
| by me-
| But to return to Sherman. When the terrible
and unjust reaction came and the government
and half the country in one harsh burst of pas
| sion forgot all that Sherman had done, and pro-
nounced him traitor, Grant was as deeply
! wounded almost as Sherman. l met him with
| tie news ID North Carolina, as he returning
| from Sherman's headquarters after the second
| capitulaton of Johnston. He knew, for he had
| heard them say what the President and Stanton
thought of Shermans terms, and he dis
approved those terms fully aud
resolu.e]y as they; but he had not dreamed
| that these cruel censures would be made
known. When he read Stanton's comments pub
lshed to the world. his face fairly famed with
| Indignation, his fist was clenched, and he ex-
| claimed "It is Observation-Disclosures" he repeat
| ed the word-"After four years of such service
| as Sherman has done-that he should be used
| like thism On his return to Washington he was
| not chary in expressing his indignation, and
| when Sherman arrived there with his army to
share in the Great Review, the tone of public
| feeling already changed, partly, no doubt,
| by Grants outspoken protestations for his
| friend.
But now came another serious trouble. Sher-
| man was not appeassd. He could not forgive the
| insult offered him before the country; and the
situation of public affairs was still too critical for
men like Stanton and Sherman to be at odds
without creating anxiety. Sherman's army
| hic and W. No wis tn
encamp it too near Washington. Grant did his
best to bring the two together, and Stanton was
| not averse; he doubtless felt that he had been
unjust But Sherman held off. Grant advised
him, sympathized with him, and sought to soothe
him. But Sherman refused in public, at the
head of his army, and in the presence of the
President and all the great functionaries of the
Nation, the hand that Stanton offered him.
| He wrote, besides, two letters to Grant,
| from Richmond and the other in Washington.
| which Grant gave me to keep, directing me to
| seal them up and never show them to any human
| being without his leave. Years afterward, with
| Grants sanction, wrote to Sherman for per-
mission to use them in my History. This he
| gave, adding fresh comments, full of pathos and
| the softening influence of time. Grant had
| so that the contents remained unknown
| till of the great actors had passed
| away, and the other had forgiven the affront
| Then Sherman wrote to me: II fully concede
| to you the right to use anything | ever wrote,
| private or public, to give the world picture of
| the feelings even passions of the time
| To-day mig ht act with more silence with more
caution, with more prudence, because I am
twelve years older. But these things did occur,
these feelings were felt, and inspired acts which
| go to make up history; and the question is
not was right wrong? but did it happen? and
is the record worth anything as an historic ex
ample9"
| And now, the two men who had stood side by
| side since Shiloh, in good report and evil report
in disaster and trial and in final triumph, were to
| be tested on another field. Andrew johnson
conceived the idea of making them rivals. of pit
ting the friends against each other in politics.
When he found that he could not win Grant to
his side. he bethought him that Sherman's repu,
tation and popularity might serve him
almost as well. Sherman had lived out
of the strife between Congress aud the
| President. and could not know all that
| Grant knew Of Johnsons cunning and designs.
His subordinaton might be counted on, as
/ Grants had been. Then, too, Sherman had
seemed to entertain notions in politics not en-
tirely dissimilar to those with which johnson
himself had started; he might be inclined to act
| with the loyal men who had followed Johnson in
| his alterations. Above all, he might be tempted
by the chance to supplant his only superior in
military position or, possibly, fame. So the
| scheme was laid to entrap Sherman and use him
to further Johnson's views In antagonism to
| Grant.
GENERAL SHERMAN TO GENERAL BADEAU.
| HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE UNITED STATES. !
WASHINGTON, d. c., June 81, 1877.
| Dear Badeau-Your letter Of June Is catches
me in the act of packing up for an absence of
three months, and leaves me only time to say