MY DEAR GENERAL: The
telegraph has just announced to me that Vicksburg is ours; its garrison will
march out, stack arms, and return within their lines as prisoners of war, and
that you will occupy the city only with such troops as you have designated in
orders. I can hardly contain myself. Surely will I not punish any soldier for
being "unco happy" this most glorious anniversary of the birth of a
nation, whose sire and father was a Washington. Did I not know the honesty,
modesty, and purity of your nature, I would be tempted to follow the examples
of my standard enemies of the press in indulging in wanton flattery; but as a
man and soldier, and ardent friend of yours, I warn you against the incense of
flattery that will fill our land from one extreme to the other. Be natural and
yourself, and this glittering flattery will be as the passing breeze of the sea
on a warm summer day. To me the delicacy with which you have treated a brave
but deluded enemy is more eloquent than the most gorgeous oratory of an
Everett.
This is a day of
jubilee, a day of rejoicing to the faithful, and I would like to hear the shout
of my old and patient troops; but I must be a Gradgrind—I must have facts,
knocks, and must go on. Already are my orders out to give one big huzza and
sling the knapsack for new fields. Tuttle will march at once to Messinger's,
Parke to Birdsong, and I will shift my headquarters to Fox's. McArthur will
clear the road of obstructions made against the coming of the unseen Johnston,
and as soon as Ord and Steele's columns are out, I will push ahead. I want
maps, but of course the first thing is to clear the Big Black River and get up
on the high ground beyond, when we move according to developments. I did want
rest, but I ask nothing until the Mississippi River is ours, and Sunday and 4th
of July are nothing to Americans till the river of our greatness is free as God
made it. Though in the background, as I ever wish to be in civil war, I feel
that I have labored some to secure this glorious result.
