Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Jesse Root Grant, July 6, 1863

VICKSBURG, July 6, 1863.

DEAR FATHER, — Vicksburg has at last surrendered after a siege of over forty days. The surrender took place on the morning of the 4th of July. I found I had continuously underestimated the force of the enemy both in men and Artillery. The number of prisoners surrendered was thirty thousand and too hundred. The process of parolling is so tedious, however, that many who are desirous of getting to their homes will escape before the paroling officers get around to them. The Arms taken is about 180 pieces of Artillery and over 30,000 stand of small Arms. The enemy still had about four days rations of flour and meat and a large quantity of sugar.

The weather now is excessively warm and the roads intolerably dusty. It cannot be expected under these circumstances that the health of this command can keep up as it has done. My troops were not allowed one hour's idle time after the surrender but were at once started after other game.

My health has continued very good during the campaign which has just closed. Remember me to all at home.

ULYSSES.

Massachusetts Historical Society, Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 47: October 1913—June 1914, p. 478-9

Colonel Theodore S. Bowers to Brigadier-General John Rawlins, August 25, 1864

. . . Anxious as we all are to have you return we trust you will remain until your health has permanently improved, unless the necessities of the service here make your presence indispensable. In the latter case we shall promptly telegraph you to come. I will show portions of your letter to the General in the morning and to-morrow will give you his views on the subject. I regret to say that Grant has been quite unwell for the past ten days. He feels languid and feeble and is hardly able to keep about, yet he tends to business promptly and his daily walk and conduct are unexceptionable. . . .

James Harrison Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 258

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, April 8, 1865

April 8, 1865

We have been making our usual little picnic to-day — say nineteen miles — and have got about half-way between Burkeville Junction and Lynchburg. Did you ever see that Washburn, Colonel in Louis Cabot's regiment, rather a well-looking young man? He was sent the day before yesterday, by Ord, from Burkeville Junction, with a small infantry and cavalry force, to destroy the Farmville bridges, to keep back the Rebels and head them off; but he found the enemy there before him; they attacked him, got him in the forks of two runs and killed or took most of his command, after a really desperate fight; Washburn getting a bullet through the cheeks and a sabre cut in the head. Then the Rebels crossed from Farmville to the other side and then they burnt the bridges in our faces. Last night was a white frost, as my toes, under the blankets, suggested to me in the morning. We left betimes, before six, to wit; for we had to get all the way back to High Bridge and then begin our march thence. After crossing the river beside the bridge (whereof the last three spans had been burnt by the enemy), we bore to the right, into the pine woods, then kept to the left, through a poor wood road, and emerged on the main road, about a mile east of the Piedmont coal mine, just as Humphreys's rear guard were marching on. As they had supposed, the enemy had retreated during the night and now we looked forward to a day's stern chase. At the coal mine we found General Humphreys, wearing much the expression of an irascible pointer, he having been out on several roads, ahead of his column, and getting down on his knees and peering at foottracks, through his spectacles, to determine by which the main body had retreated. Here we got a great excitement, on learning that, last night, General Williams had conveyed a note from Grant to Lee, demanding his surrender. That, furthermore, Lee had made a reply, and that now General Williams had just gone forward, with a flag, to send an answer. All this looked favorable and gave a new aspect to the whole question! The original idea of sending a note came from the language used by Ewell and his Staff, captured on the 6th. These officers had stated that their position was hopeless and that Lee might surrender, if summoned. The good Williams's mission came near being fatal to the messenger of peace; for, as he got in sight of the rear Rebel videttes and was waving away, to attract their attention, they shot at him and wounded his orderly. However, he persevered, and, with a little care, got his note delivered.

We now trotted along what had been, years since, a fine stage road; but the present condition was not exactly favorable to waggons with delicate springs — the road at present being playfully variegated with boulders, three feet high, which had inconvenienced the Rebel trains, as many a burnt waggon testified. Toiling along past the trains in rear of the Second Corps, we were caught by General Grant, who was in high spirits, and addressed General Meade as “Old Fellow.” Both Staffs halted for the night at Stute's house, and, as Grant's waggons could not get up, we fed him and his officers and lent them blankets. Grant had one of his sick headaches, which are rare, but cause him fearful pain, such as almost overcomes even his iron stoicism. To show how really amiable he is, he let the officers drum on the family piano a long while before he even would hint he didn't like it. Towards sundown we could hear rapid artillery from direction of Appomattox Station, which made us anxious; for we knew it was Sheridan, and could not know the result.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 353-5