HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF POTOMAC
April 18, 1864
I have seen some high-bush blackberries that already had wee
leaves, just beginning to open; and the buds of the trees are swelling; and
hundreds of little toads sing and whistle all night, to please other hundreds
of Misses toads. The sap is rising so in the oak trees that the wood won't burn
without some trouble. It really looks like a beginning of spring; and
everything is so quiet that it is quite amazing; whether it is that old
soldiers get lazy and sleep a good deal during the day, I don't know, but
really just a short way from camp, it is as still as if not a human being were
near; and here at Headquarters, the only sounds are the distant car-whistles
and the drums and trumpets sounding the calls; except, indeed, the music of the
band, which is hardly a noise and is very acceptable. I suppose we may call
this the lull before the hurricane, which little short of a miracle can avert.
There is Grant, with his utterly immovable face, going about from Culpeper to
Washington and back, and sending no end of cipher messages, all big with strategy.
He evidently means to do something pretty serious before he gives up. To-day
was a great day for him; he reviewed the entire 6th Corps, which, as you know,
has been strengthened by a division of the late 3d Corps. The day has been
fine, very. At eleven o'clock we started and rode towards Culpeper, to meet
General Grant, who encountered us beyond Brandy Station. He is very fond, you
must know, of horses, and was mounted on one of the handsomest I have seen in
the army. He was neatly dressed in the regulation uniform, with a handsome sash
and sword, and the three stars of a lieutenant-general on his shoulder. He is a
man of a natural, severe simplicity, in all things — the very way he wears his
high-crowned felt hat shows this: he neither puts it on behind his ears, nor
draws it over his eyes; much less does he cock it on one side, but sets it
straight and very hard on his head. His riding is the same: without the
slightest "air," and, per contra, without affectation of homeliness;
he sits firmly in the saddle and looks straight ahead, as if only intent on
getting to some particular point. General Meade says he is a very amiable man,
though his eye is stern and almost fierce-looking.
Well, we encountered him, as aforesaid, followed by three or
four aides; one of whom, Lieutenant-Colonel Rowley, was oblivious of straps,
and presented an expanse of rather ill-blacked, calfskin boots, that took away
from his military ensemble a good deal. When a man can ride without straps, he
may do so, if he chooses; but, when he possesseth not the happy faculty of
keeping down his trousers, he should make straps a part of his religion! We
took our station on a swell of ground, when we could see a large part of the
Corps in line; but there was so much of it, that, though drawn up by battalions
(that is, ten men deep), there could be found, in the neighborhood, no ground
sufficiently extensive, without hollows. At once they began to march past —
there seemed no end of them. In each direction there was nothing but a wide,
moving hedge of bright muskets; a very fine sight. . . . General Grant is much pleased and says
there is nothing of the sort out West, in the way of discipline and
organization. . . .
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 82-4
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