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Prologue
If I went back to college again, I’d concentrate on two areas:
learning to write and to speak before an audience. Nothing in life
is more important than the ability to communicate effectively.
Gerald R. Ford
t could have been worse, much worse, but—fortunately for the nation—
the bloodiest conflict in American history ended not with rancor and bit-
I terness but with two men, the military leaders of their respective causes,
sitting together at a small table in a rural courthouse. One was dressed in his
resplendent gray uniform, his last one; the other wore a mud-splattered blue
cavalryman’s field coat. Their conversation was quiet. The victor recalled his
meeting with the vanquished, 16 years his senior, during the Mexican War, in
which both men had served. The older man said that he could not recall their
meeting, but he appreciated the younger man’s mention of it. After more dis-
cussion of their service in Mexico, the surrender terms were drafted. The terms
were generous. Officers could keep their side arms, cavalrymen their horses.
It was planting season, and if the nation were ever to heal, it would have to
begin to renew itself sooner rather than later. And in this way, General Ulysses
S. Grant accepted the surrender of General Robert E. Lee at Appomattox
Courthouse, Virginia, on April 9, 1865. Later that day, another Union general,
the oft-wounded, valorous Joshua Chamberlain, a hero of Gettysburg,
accepted the surrender of Lee’s forces with grace and dignity, ordering his
men to salute their foe as they strode past to deposit their rifles. The signifi-
cance of these acts—an amalgam of words, gestures, and symbols—was fun-
damental to the healing of a nation that had been “torn asunder.” 1
Sadly, the war was not yet completely over. Fighting continued sporadi-
cally but lethally throughout the South. Then came word of Abraham Lin-
coln’s assassination, and many wondered how the South would react.
Passions ran high in both North and South. With Lincoln dead, the voices of
Northerners seeking retribution grew louder, and many in the South were
willing to fight on. One officer said to Lee, “You have only to blow the bugle,”
and the troops would rally. Lee had returned to a devastated and destitute
Richmond; he was sick of war and desperately wanted peace. At the end of
April, the New York Herald requested an interview; Lee had remained pub-
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