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雙語·林肯傳 24

所屬教程:譯林版·林肯傳

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2022年05月28日

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24

When the war began, in 1861, a shabby and disappointed man was sitting on a packing-case in a leather store in Galena, Illinois, smoking a clay pipe. His job, so far as he had one, was that of bookkeeper and buyer of hogs and hides from farmers.

His two younger brothers who owned the store didn't want him around at any price, but for months he had tramped the streets of St. Louis, looking in vain for some kind of position, until his wife and four children were destitute. Finally, in despair, he had borrowed a few dollars for a railway ticket and gone to see his father in Kentucky, begging for assistance. The old man had considerable cash, but, being loath to part with any of it, he sat down and wrote his two younger sons in Galena, instructing them to give their elder brother a job.

So they put him on the pay-roll at once, more as a matter of family politics and family charity than anything else.

Two dollars a day—that was his wage—and it was probably more than he was worth, for he had no more business ability than a jack-rabbit; he was lazy and slovenly, he loved cornwhisky, and he was eternally in debt. He was always borrowing small sums of money; so when his friends saw him coming, they used to look the other way and cross the street to avoid meeting him.

Everything he had undertaken in life, so far, had ended in failure and frustration.

So far.

But no more.

For good news and astounding good fortune were just around the corner.

In a little while he was to go flaring and flaming like a shooting star across the firmament of fame.

He couldn't command the respect of his home town now; but in three years he would command the most formidable army the world had ever seen.

In four years he would conquer Lee, end the war, and write his name in blazing letters of fire on the pages of history.

In eight years he would be in the White House.

After that he would make a triumphal tour of the world, with the high and mighty of all lands heaping honors, medals, flowers, and after-dinner oratory upon him—whom people back in Galena had crossed the street to avoid.

It is an astonishing tale.

Everything about it is strange. Even the attitude of his mother was abnormal. She never seemed to care much for him. She refused to visit him when he was President, and she didn't trouble even to name him when he was born. Her relatives attended to that, in a sort of lottery. When he was six weeks old, they wrote their favorite names on strips torn from a paper sack, mixed them in a hat, and drew one out. His grandmother Simpson had been reading Homer, and she wrote on her slip: “Hiram Ulysses.” It was drawn, and so, by chance, that was the name he bore at home for seventeen years.

But he was bashful and slow-witted, so the village wits called him “Useless” Grant.

At West Point he had still another name. The politician who made out the papers giving him an appointment to the Military Academy imagined that his middle name must be Simpson, his mother's maiden name, so he went as “U. S. Grant.” When the cadets learned this, they laughed and tossed their hats in the air, and shouted, “Boys, we've got Uncle Sam with us!” To the end of his life those who had been his classmates there called him Sam Grant.

He didn't mind. He made few friends, and he didn't care what people called him, and he didn't care how he looked. He wouldn't keep his coat buttoned or his gun clean or his shoes shined, and he was often late for roll-call. And, instead of mastering the military principles used by Napoleon and Frederick the Great, he spent much of his time at West Point poring over novels such as “Ivanhoe” and “The Last of the Mohicans.”

The incredible fact is that he never read a book on military strategy in his life.

After he had won the war the people of Boston raised money to buy him a library, appointing a committee to find out what books he already possessed. To its amazement, the committee learned that Grant didn't own a single military treatise of any description.

He disliked West Point and the army and everything connected with it; and, after he had become world-famous, he said to Bismarck while reviewing Germany's troops:

“I haven't much interest in military affairs. The truth is, I am more of a farmer than a soldier. Although I have been in two wars, I never entered the army without regret, and never left it without pleasure.”

Grant admitted that his besetting sin was laziness, and that he never liked to study. Even after he graduated from West Point he spelled knocked without the initial k and safety without an e; yet he was fairly good at figures, and hoped to be a professor of mathematics. But no position was available, so he spent eleven years with the regular army. He had to have something to eat, and that seemed the easiest way to get it.

In 1853 he was stationed at Fort Humboldt in California. In a near-by village there was a curious character named Ryan. Ryan ran a store, operated a sawmill, and did surveying during the week. On Sunday he preached. Whisky was cheap in those days, and Pastor Ryan kept an open barrel of it in the back of his store. A tin cup was hanging on the barrel, so you could go and help yourself whenever you had the urge. Grant had it often. He was lonely and wanted to forget the army life that he despised; as a result he got drunk so many times that he had virtually to be dismissed from the army.

He didn't have a dollar, and he didn't have a job; so he drifted back east to Missouri and spent the next four years plowing corn and slopping hogs on an eighty-acre farm belonging to his father-in-law. In the wintertime he cut cord-wood, hauled it to St. Louis, and sold it to the city people. But every year he got farther and farther behind, had to borrow more and more.

Finally he quit the farm, moved to St. Louis, and sought employment there. He tried to sell real estate, was a total failure at that, and then drifted about the town for weeks, looking for a job—any kind of job. At last he was in such desperate circumstances that he tried to hire out his wife's negroes, in order to get money to pay the grocer's bill.

Here is one of the most surprising facts about the Civil War: Lee believed that slavery was wrong, and had freed his own negroes long before the conflict came; but Grant's wife owned slaves at the very time that her husband was leading the armies of the North to destroy slavery.

When the war began, Grant was sick of his work in the Galena leather store and wanted to get back into the army.

That ought to have been easy for a West Point graduate, when the army had hundreds of thousands of raw recruits to whip into shape. But it wasn't. Galena raised a company of volunteers, and Grant drilled them because he was the only man in town who knew anything at all about drilling, but when they marched away to war with bouquets in their gun-barrels Grant stood on the sidewalk watching them. They had chosen another man as captain.

Then Grant wrote to the War Department, telling of his experience and asking to be appointed colonel of a regiment. His letter was never answered. It was found in the files of the War Department while he was President.

Finally he got a position in the adjutant's office in Springfield, doing clerical work that a fifteen-year-old girl could have done. He worked all day with his hat on, smoking constantly and copying orders on an old broken-down table with three legs, which had been shoved into a corner for support.

Then a wholly unexpected thing happened, an event that set his feet on the road to fame. The 21st Regiment of Illinois Volunteers had degenerated into an armed mob. They ignored orders, cursed their officers, and chased old Colonel Goode out of camp, vowing that if he showed up again they would nail his hide on a sour-apple tree.

Governor Yates was worried.

He didn't think much of Grant, but after all the man had been graduated from West Point, so the governor took a chance. And on a sunny June day in 1861 Grant walked out to the Springfield fair-grounds to take over the command of a regiment that no one else could rule.

A stick that he carried, and a red bandana tied around his waist—these were his only visible signs of authority.

He didn't have a horse or a uniform, or the money to buy either. There were holes in the top of his sweat-stained hat, and his elbows stuck out of his old coat.

His men began making fun of him at once. One chap started sparring at him behind his back, and another fellow rushed up behind the pugilist and shoved him so hard that he stumbled forward and hit Grant between the shoulders.

Grant stopped all their foolishness immediately. If a man disobeyed orders he was tied to a post and left there all day. If he cursed a gag was put into his mouth. If the regiment was late at roll-call—as they all were on one occasion—they got nothing to eat for twenty-four hours. The ex-hide-buyer from Galena tamed their tempestuous spirits and led them away to do battle down in Missouri.

Shortly after that another piece of amazing good fortune came his way. In those days the War Department was making brigadier-generals by the dozens. Northwestern Illinois had sent Elihu B. Washburne to Congress. Washburne, fired with political ambitions, was desperately eager to show the folks back home that he was on the job, so he went to the War Department and demanded that one brigadier-general come from his district. All right. But who? That was easy: there was only one West Point graduate among Washburne's constituents.

So a few days later Grant picked up a St. Louis newspaper, and read the surprising news that he was a brigadier-general.

He was assigned headquarters at Cairo, Illinois, and immediately began to do things. He loaded his soldiers on boats, steamed up the Ohio, occupied Paducah, a strategic point in Kentucky, and proposed marching down into Tennessee to attack Fort Donelson, which commanded the Cumberland River. Military experts like Halleck said: “Nonsense! You are talking foolishly, Grant. It can't be done. It would be suicide to attempt it.”

Grant went ahead and tried it, and captured the fort and fifteen thousand prisoners in one afternoon.

While Grant was attacking, the Confederate general sent him a note, begging for a truce, to arrange terms of capitulation, but Grant replied rather tartly:

“My only terms are unconditional and immediate surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your works.”

Simon Buckner, the Confederate general to whom this curt message was addressed, had known Sam Grant at West Point and had lent him money to pay his board bill when he was fired from the army. In view of that loan, Buckner felt that Grant ought to have been a trifle more gracious in his phraseology. But Buckner forgave him and surrendered and spent the afternoon smoking and reminiscing with Grant about old times.

The fall of Fort Donelson had far-reaching consequences: it saved Kentucky for the North, enabled the Union troops to advance two hundred miles without opposition, drove the Confederates out of a large part of Tennessee, cut off their supplies, caused the fall of Nashville and of Fort Columbus, the Gibraltar of the Mississippi, spread profound depression throughout the South, and set church bells ringing and bonfires blazing from Maine to the Mississippi.

It was a stupendous victory, and created a tremendous impression even in Europe. It was really one of the turning-points of the war.

From that time on, U. S. Grant was known as “Unconditional Surrender” Grant, and “I propose to move on your works immediately” became the battle-cry of the North.

Here, at last, was the great leader for which the country had been waiting. Congress made him a major-general; he was appointed commander of the Military Department of Western Tennessee, and quickly became the idol of the nation. One newspaper mentioned that he liked to smoke during a battle, and, presto! over ten thousand boxes of cigars were showered upon him.

But in less than three weeks after all this Grant was actually in tears of rage and mortification because of unfair treatment by a jealous superior officer.

His immediate superior in the West was Halleck, a colossal and unmitigated ass. Admiral Foote called Halleck “a military imbecile,” and Gideon Welles, Lincoln's Secretary of the Navy, who knew Halleck intimately, sums him up thus:

“Halleck originates nothing, anticipates nothing, suggests nothing, plans nothing, decides nothing, is good for nothing and does nothing except scold, smoke and scratch his elbows.”

But Halleck thought very well of himself. He had been an assistant professor at West Point, had written books on military strategy, international law, and mining, had been director of a silver-mine, president of a railway, a successful attorney, had mastered French and translated a tome on Napoleon. In his own opinion, he was the distinguished scholar, Henry Wager Halleck.

And who was Grant? A nobody, a drunken and discredited army captain. When Grant came to see him, before attacking Fort Donelson, Halleck was rude, and dismissed his military suggestions with irritation and contempt. Now Grant had won a great victory and had the nation at his feet, while Halleck was still scratching his elbows in St. Louis, unnoticed and ignored. And it galled Halleck.

To make matters worse, he felt that this erstwhile hide-buyer was insulting him. He telegraphed Grant day after day, and Grant brazenly ignored his orders. At least, so Halleck imagined. But he was wrong. Grant had sent report upon report; but, after the fall of Donelson, a break in telegraphic communications had made it impossible for his telegrams to get through. However, Halleck didn't know this, and he was indignant. Victory and public adulation had gone to Grant's head, had they? Well, he would teach this young upstart a lesson. So he wired McClellan repeatedly, denouncing Grant. Grant was this, Grant was that—insolent, drunk, idle, ignoring orders, incompetent. “I'm tired and worn out with this neglect and inefficiency.”

McClellan, too, was envious of Grant's popularity; so he sent Halleck what, in the light of history, is the most amazing telegram of the Civil War: “Do not hesitate to arrest him [Grant] at once if the good of the service requires it, and place C. F. Smith in command.”

Halleck immediately took Grant's army away from him, virtually placed him under arrest, and then leaned back in his chair and scratched his elbows with savage satisfaction.

The war was almost a year old now, and the only general who had won a considerable victory for the North stood stripped of all power and in public disgrace.

Later Grant was restored to command. Then he blundered woefully at the Battle of Shiloh; if Johnston, the Confederate general, had not bled to death during the fighting, Grant's entire army might have been surrounded and captured. Shiloh was, at that time, the greatest battle that had ever been fought on this continent, and Grant's losses were staggering—thirteen thousand men. He had acted stupidly; he had been taken by surprise. He deserved criticism, and it came roaring down upon him. He was falsely accused of being intoxicated at Shiloh, and millions believed it. A tidal wave of popular indignation swept over the country, and the public clamored for his removal. But Lincoln said:

“I can't spare this man. He fights.”

When people told him Grant drank too much whisky, he inquired: “What brand? I want to send a few barrels to some of my other generals.”

The following January Grant assumed command of the expedition against Vicksburg. The campaign against this natural fortress, perched on a high bluff two hundred feet above the Mississippi, was long and heartbreaking. The place was heavily fortified, and the gunboats on the river couldn't elevate their cannon high enough to touch it. Grant's problem was to get his army close enough to attack it.

He went back to the heart of Mississippi and tried to march on it from the east. That failed.

Then he cut away the levees of the river, put his army on boats, and tried to float through the swamps and get at the place from the north. That failed.

Then he dug a canal and tried to change the course of the Mississippi. That failed.

It was a trying winter. Rain fell almost continuously, the river flooded the whole valley, and Grant's troops floundered through miles of swamps, ooze, bayous, tangled forests, and trailing vines. Men stood up to their waists in mud, they ate in the mud, they slept in the mud. Malarial fever broke out, and measles and smallpox. Sanitation was well-nigh impossible, and the death-rate was appalling.

The Vicksburg campaign was a failure—that was the cry that went up everywhere. A stupid failure, a tragic failure, a criminal failure.

Grant's own generals—Sherman, McPherson, Logan, Wilson —regarded his plans as absurd, and believed they would end in black ruin. The press throughout the country was vitriolic, and the nation was demanding Grant's removal.

“He has hardly a friend left except myself,” Lincoln said.

Despite all opposition, Lincoln clung to Grant; and he had his faith richly rewarded, for, on July 4, the same day that the timid Meade let Lee escape at Gettysburg, Grant rode into Vicksburg on a horse taken from the plantation of Jefferson Davis, and won a greater victory than any American general had achieved since the days of Washington.

After eight months of desolating failure, Grant had captured forty thousand prisoners at Vicksburg, placed the entire Mississippi River in the hands of the North, and split the Confederacy.

The news set the nation aflame with enthusiasm.

Congress passed a special act in order that Grant could be made lieutenant-general—an honor that no man had worn since the death of Washington—and Lincoln, calling him to the White House, made a short address appointing him commander of all the armies of the Union.

Forewarned that he would have to reply with a speech of acceptance, Grant drew out of his pocket a little wrinkled piece of paper containing only three sentences. As he began to read, the paper shook, his face flushed, his knees trembled, and his voice failed. Breaking down completely, he clutched the shaking paper with both hands, shifted his position, took a deep breath, and began all over again.

The hog-and-hide buyer from Galena found it easier to face bullets than to deliver a speech of eighty-four words before an audience of eleven men.

Mrs. Lincoln, eager to make a social event out of Grant's presence in Washington, had already arranged a dinner and a party in the general's honor. But Grant begged to be excused, saying he must hasten back to the front.

“But we can't excuse you,” the President insisted. “Mrs. Lincoln's dinner without you would be ‘Hamlet’ without Hamlet.”

“A dinner to me,” replied Grant, “means a million dollars a day loss to the country. Besides, I've had about enough of this show business, anyway.”

Lincoln loved a man who would talk like that—one who, like himself, despised “fizzlegigs and fireworks,” and one who would “take responsibility and act.”

Lincoln's hopes rose and towered now. He was sure that, with Grant in command, all would soon be well.

But he was wrong. Within four months the country was plunged into blacker gloom and deeper despair than ever, and once more Lincoln was pacing the floor throughout the night, haggard and worn and desperate.

24

一八六一年戰(zhàn)爭的槍聲剛打響的時候,在伊利諾伊州的格麗納小鎮(zhèn)上的一家皮革店中,一位衣衫襤褸、面容沮喪的青年正抽著土煙坐在一只包裝箱上。他的工作,就目前看來,便是記賬和從農(nóng)民手里收購豬皮和獸皮。

他的兩個弟弟是這家店的店主,可是弟弟們不惜一切代價地想把他趕走。幾個月前,他一直在圣路易斯大街上游蕩,想找份工作,但都沒有成功。他的妻子和四個孩子窮困潦倒,于是絕望之下,他借了幾美金買了一張火車票,去肯塔基州看望自己的父親,懇求父親援助。他的父親有相當多的現(xiàn)金,但卻是只一毛不拔的鐵公雞。于是他的父親坐下來給格麗納的兩個小兒子寫信,要求他們給他們的大哥提供一份工作。

弟弟們立刻將他的名字放在了工資單上。他們這么做,更多是因為父親的命令,或者說是出于一種施舍,而不是因為兄弟之情。

兩美金一天——這是他的工資——或許比他的自身價值高出不少,因為他的經(jīng)商才能比一只長耳大野兔好不了多少。他十分懶散,喜歡玉米威士忌,而且還不斷地欠債。他總是借些小錢,因此他的朋友們在街上遇到他時,都會扭頭看向旁邊,然后走到街對面去,以防和他碰面。

到目前為止,他生活中的每一件事,都是以失敗和挫折結尾的。

到目前為止是這樣。

但也只是到目前為止。

因為飛黃騰達的機會就在拐角處等著他。

過不了多久,他就會像一顆燃燒著熊熊火光的流星一樣照亮名利的蒼穹。

雖然他現(xiàn)在無法命令家鄉(xiāng)的父老鄉(xiāng)親尊重自己,但是三年后,世界上最強大的軍隊將會按照他的命令行事。

四年后,他將戰(zhàn)勝李,結束南北戰(zhàn)爭,并用極其輝煌的方式將自己的名字載入史冊。

八年后,他將入主白宮。

再后來,他以勝利者的姿態(tài)環(huán)游全球,受到了所到之處權貴政要的熱烈追捧。他們?yōu)樗I上獎章和鮮花,還為他舉行餐后演講。誰能想到,當年那個在格麗納街頭人們避而不見的年輕人,能有如此輝煌的一天?

這是一個傳奇故事。

而這個故事中的一切都是那么令人匪夷所思。即便是他母親,對他的態(tài)度也十分不同尋常。她似乎從來都不在乎他。他做了總統(tǒng)后,她也不愿去看他。他出生的時候,她甚至懶得為他取名。而她的親戚給他取名的方式就像抽獎一樣隨意。他六周大的時候,親戚們將一個紙袋撕成紙條,在紙條上寫上自己最喜歡的名字,然后將所有紙條放在一只帽子里,抽到哪張就用哪張上面的名字。他的外婆辛普森(Simpson)當時正在讀荷馬的書,于是在紙條上寫下了“海勒姆·尤利西斯”。機緣巧合之下,這張紙條被抽中了,于是他往后十七年在家的名字便叫作“海勒姆·尤利西斯·格蘭特”。

他是一個羞怯又有些遲鈍的孩子,于是鎮(zhèn)上的聰明人都叫他“廢物西斯·格蘭特”。

在西點軍校的時候他還有一個名字。那個填寫格蘭特入學信息的政治家以為他的中間名是他母親的娘家姓氏辛普森,于是便將他的名字縮寫成了“U.S.格蘭特”。學員們知道這件事后,大笑著將帽子拋向空中,大聲喊道:“孩子們,山姆大叔(5)和我們在一起哦!”因此在往后的時光中,他的這些同學都稱他為山姆·格蘭特。

他一點兒也不介意。他朋友很少,所以并不在意人們怎么稱呼他,也不在意自己的外表和穿著。他的扣子總是不扣好,槍也不擦干凈,靴子也不擦得锃亮,列隊點名的時候總是遲到。而且,他在西點軍校時根本不學拿破侖和腓特烈大帝使用過的軍事戰(zhàn)略,而是將大量的時間花在讀小說上,例如《劫后英雄傳》和《最后的莫西干人》。

事實上,他從來沒有讀過一本關于軍事戰(zhàn)略的書。

他贏得了戰(zhàn)爭后,波士頓的人們籌錢為他修建了一座圖書館,并委派了一個委員會去看看他有哪些藏書。令人驚訝的是,委員會發(fā)現(xiàn)格蘭特竟連一本軍事專著也沒有。

他不喜歡西點軍校,不喜歡軍隊以及一切和軍隊有關的人和事。在功成名就之后,有一次他在檢閱德國軍隊時對俾斯麥說:

“我對軍事并不感興趣。事實上,我更像農(nóng)民而不是軍人。我雖然參加了兩場戰(zhàn)爭,但每次參戰(zhàn)的時候心里都很后悔,而每次離開戰(zhàn)場時心里都帶著快意?!?/p>

格蘭特承認自己最大的毛病就是懶散,一點兒也不愿學習。即便從西點軍校畢業(yè)后,他仍寫出沒有詞首字母K的knocked(被敲擊)和缺少e的safety(安全)。但他對數(shù)字很敏感,也一直想做一名數(shù)學教授,但當時沒有合適的職位,于是他退而求其次地在軍營中度過了十一年,因為他總要養(yǎng)活自己,而參軍似乎是最簡單的方式。

一八五三年他駐扎在加利福尼亞州的洪堡。洪堡旁邊有一個小村莊,村里有一個奇怪的家伙,名叫瑞恩。瑞恩經(jīng)營著一間店鋪和一家鋸木廠,平時也常做些勘測工作,周日的時候還要布道。在那個年代,威士忌是很便宜的,瑞恩牧師總是在他店鋪后面放上一桶開著蓋子的威士忌,并在酒桶上掛一只錫酒杯。不管是誰,若是犯了酒癮,就可以去喝一杯。格蘭特經(jīng)常去那兒喝酒。他很孤獨,同時也希望借著酒勁兒忘卻他鄙視的軍旅生活,于是他常常喝得酩酊大醉,最后被軍隊開除了。

他身上一美金都沒有,也沒有工作,于是只能去密蘇里州東部投奔岳父,并在接下來的四年中一直在岳父那片八十英畝的農(nóng)場上種地養(yǎng)豬。冬天的時候,他將砍好的薪柴拉去圣路易斯,賣給那里的城里人。即便這樣,他的生活也是一年不如一年,只能靠借債度日。

最后,他離開了農(nóng)場,搬到了圣路易斯,并在那里找了份工作。他試著賣房子,結果卻失敗得一塌糊涂。然后他在鎮(zhèn)里游蕩了數(shù)周,試圖找一份工作——任何工作都行。最后他實在窮困至極,只能將妻子的黑奴租出去換錢,償付雜貨店的賬單。

關于南北戰(zhàn)爭,有一件事是很不可思議的:李一直都認為奴隸制是不對的,并在離開戰(zhàn)時間還很遠的時候便釋放了自己的黑奴。而格蘭特的妻子是擁有黑奴的。當她的丈夫率領著北方軍摧毀奴隸制的時候,她自己卻一直都有黑奴。

南北戰(zhàn)爭開始的時候,格蘭特厭倦了在格麗納的皮貨店里打工的生活,想重新回到軍隊。

對于一名西點軍校畢業(yè)生來說,這應該是很簡單的一件事,尤其是在軍隊招募了成百上千名等著接受嚴格訓練的新兵時。但事實并非如此。格麗納組織了一支志愿軍,并讓格蘭特訓練他們,因為格蘭特是唯一一個懂得什么是訓練的人??墒钱斶@支隊伍在槍筒里插上鮮花奔赴戰(zhàn)場時,格蘭特只能站在路邊看著他們走過。隊長的位子給了其他人。

格蘭特寫信給戰(zhàn)爭部,介紹了自己的經(jīng)歷,并要求擔任團級上校。然而這封信卻如石沉大海般杳無回音。后來格蘭特做了總統(tǒng),人們才在戰(zhàn)爭部的文件堆里看到這封信。

最后他在春田市的副官辦公室找到了一份差事,做著十五歲的小姑娘也會做的雜事。他工作的時候也戴著帽子,一支接著一支地抽煙,時不時地站在倚在墻角只有三條腿的破桌子前抄寫軍令。

就在這個時候,發(fā)生了一件完全出人意料的事。正是這件事,使格蘭特走上了成名之路。伊利諾伊州第二十一團志愿兵發(fā)生了暴亂,墮落成了一群拿著槍的流氓。他們無視軍令,咒罵上司,將古德老上校趕出軍營,并發(fā)誓若他膽敢再次出現(xiàn),就將他的皮剝下來掛在青蘋果樹上。

州長葉茨為此十分焦慮。

他其實并不是十分看好格蘭特,但畢竟格蘭特是西點軍校畢業(yè)的,于是州長便冒險一試。于是,一八六一年六月一個晴朗的上午,格蘭特走出了辦公室,來到春田市的露天廣場,接手了這支無人管得住的軍隊。

他手里拿著手杖,腰間系著一條紅色的頭巾——他身上只有這兩樣東西能表明他的身份。

他沒有騎馬,沒穿制服,也沒有能夠買馬買制服的錢。他那頂滿是汗?jié)n的帽子上破了幾個洞,外套的手肘處也磨出了洞。

一看到他的模樣,士兵們便嘲笑起他來。一個小伙子對著他的后背揮舞著拳頭,另一個士兵則跑到這個拳擊手身后,用力推了那人一把。拳擊手的身體踉蹌地向前倒去,撞到了格蘭特的肩膀。

格蘭特很快便制止了士兵們的愚蠢行為。若有人違抗軍令,便會被綁在柱子上一整天。若有人滿嘴污穢,便會立刻被堵住嘴。若士兵們列隊時遲到——有一次所有人都遲到了——那就二十四小時不給飯吃。就這樣,這位來自格麗納一家皮貨店的店員馴服了那些充滿暴力的手下,并帶領他們在密蘇里州沖鋒陷陣。

不久之后,又發(fā)生了一件助他平步青云的大好事。在那個時候,戰(zhàn)爭部正準備提拔一批準將。伊利諾伊州西北軍區(qū)將伊萊休·本杰明·沃什伯恩(Elihu B.Washburne)派去了國會。沃什伯恩是一個充滿了政治野心的人,他迫切地想讓家鄉(xiāng)的人民知道自己身居要職,于是去了戰(zhàn)爭部,要求他的州必須出一名準將。戰(zhàn)爭部同意了他的要求,但是提拔誰呢?很簡單,沃什伯恩手里只有一位西點軍校畢業(yè)生。

于是幾天后,格蘭特無意中看了一份圣路易斯的報紙,這才知道自己竟然晉升成了準將。

他被派往伊利諾伊州的凱羅總部,一上任便施展開了拳腳。他讓士兵們坐上輪船,經(jīng)過俄亥俄州,占領了肯塔基州的戰(zhàn)略要地帕迪尤卡,接著便打算深入田納西州攻打控制著坎伯蘭河的多納爾森堡。對此,像哈勒克一樣的軍事專家是這樣說的:“一派胡言!格蘭特,你這是癡人說夢。這根本是做不到的。你的嘗試就等于是自殺?!?/p>

格蘭特一意孤行地展開了進攻,而且只用了短短一個下午便拿下了多納爾森堡,還擒獲了一萬五千名俘虜。

格蘭特展開進攻的時候,南方軍的將軍給他傳了信息,懇求休戰(zhàn),以便擬定投降協(xié)議。但是格蘭特的答復十分強硬:

“我唯一的條件是你們立刻無條件投降。我打算立刻向你們的防御工事進軍?!?/p>

收到格蘭特回復的南方軍將領是西蒙·巴克納(Simon Buckner),他在西點軍校的時候就認識了“山姆·格蘭特”,并在格蘭特被軍隊開除時借錢給格蘭特支付伙食賬單。巴克納認為,看在那筆借款的份上,格蘭特言辭也應該溫和些。不過巴克納還是原諒了格蘭特,投降后花了一個下午與格蘭特一起一邊抽著煙一邊追憶往昔的時光。

多納爾森堡之役的勝利具有深遠的意義,它為北方保住了肯塔基州,從而聯(lián)邦軍可以不受任何阻礙地向前推進兩百英里,將駐扎在田納西州的大部分南方軍趕出去,切斷南方軍的供給線,從而拿下田納西首府納什維爾和有著“密西西比河上的直布羅陀”之稱的哥倫布堡。南方的上空因此籠罩著揮之不去的絕望,教堂的鐘聲與戰(zhàn)火的轟鳴聲從緬因州一直響徹密西西比河流域。

這是一場巨大的勝利,甚至給歐洲人也留下了極為深刻的印象。這次勝利無疑是南北戰(zhàn)爭的轉折點。

從那時起,人們稱格蘭特為“只接受無條件投降的格蘭特”,而他的那句“我打算立刻向你們的防御工事進軍”也成了北方軍的戰(zhàn)斗口號。

終于,舉國上下期待了許久的將領出現(xiàn)在了人們面前。國會將他晉升為少將,并任命他為田納西州西部軍區(qū)指揮官。格蘭特很快便成了全民偶像。有一家報紙說格蘭特喜歡在戰(zhàn)場上抽煙,于是轉眼間格蘭特就收到了來自全國各地的一萬多盒香煙。

但是格蘭特風光了還不到三個星期,便因為某位嫉妒他的上司對他不公平的對待而流下了憤怒又屈辱的淚水。

他在西部的直接上司是哈勒克。哈勒克是一個十足的渾蛋。富特上將稱哈勒克為“軍中的白癡”。而林肯的海軍部長吉迪恩·韋爾斯(Gideon Welles)熟識哈勒克,他這樣評價哈勒克:

“哈勒克沒有作為,沒有預判,沒有建議,沒有計劃,沒有決斷。他的特長就是什么都不會。他唯一會的就是罵人、抽煙和撓胳膊肘。”

但是哈勒克自我感覺良好。他曾是西點軍校的助理教授,也寫過關于軍事戰(zhàn)略、國際法和采礦的書。他做過銀礦主管、鐵路主席,還曾是一位出色的律師。他精通法語,還翻譯過一本寫拿破侖的大部頭書。在他自己看來,他是杰出的學者亨利·韋杰·哈勒克。

而格蘭特又是什么人?一個不知從哪里冒出來的、整日喝得醉醺醺的、毫無榮譽可言的小隊長。格蘭特在攻打多納爾森堡之前曾去見過哈勒克,當時哈勒克十分粗魯,憤怒而又輕蔑地拒絕了格蘭特的軍事建議?,F(xiàn)在格蘭特打了大勝仗,整個國家都拜倒在他腳下,而哈勒克卻仍舊默默無聞地在圣路易斯撓著胳膊肘。哈勒克因此感到十分屈辱。

更糟的是,哈勒克認為那位曾經(jīng)的皮貨商一直在侮辱自己。他日復一日地給格蘭特發(fā)電報,但是格蘭特厚顏無恥地無視了他的命令。至少,哈勒克是這樣認為的。但他卻想錯了。格蘭特給他發(fā)了一封又一封的報告,但是多納爾森堡之役過后,電報通訊中斷了,格蘭特的電報一封也沒發(fā)出去。然而哈勒克并不知道這件事,于是他非常惱火。勝利和公眾的贊譽都落到了格蘭特的頭上,不能就這么完了,他一定會給這個自命不凡的年輕人好好上一課。于是他不停地給麥克萊倫發(fā)電報詆毀格蘭特。他說格蘭特這樣,格蘭特那樣,但總離不開這幾個詞——傲慢,醉鬼,懶散,無視命令,能力不足?!拔冶贿@個目中無人又能力不足的蠢貨搞得筋疲力盡?!惫湛诉@樣說道。

麥克萊倫也十分嫉妒格蘭特,于是他給哈勒克回了一封信。從歷史的角度看,這是南北戰(zhàn)爭中最為驚人的一封信:“如果整體利益需要,可以毫不猶豫地逮捕他,讓C.F.史密斯接替他的位置?!?/p>

哈勒克立刻拘禁了格蘭特,并奪走了格蘭特手里的軍權。做完了這些后,哈勒克便靠在椅子里,心滿意足地繼續(xù)撓著胳膊肘。

戰(zhàn)爭已經(jīng)打了一年了,而唯一一位為北方贏得了輝煌勝利的將軍卻被當眾侮辱,并被剝奪了軍權。

后來格蘭特重新獲得了指揮權。接著他在夏伊洛戰(zhàn)場不幸地犯下了大錯。當時,如果南方軍的將領約翰斯頓沒有在戰(zhàn)斗中流血至死,格蘭特就會被包圍,全軍都會成為俘虜。夏伊洛之戰(zhàn)是當時這片大陸上最為激烈的一場戰(zhàn)役,格蘭特也損失慘重,足足犧牲了一萬三千人。他指揮十分愚蠢,從而受到了出其不意的攻擊。他理應受到指責。一時間,指責與謾罵呼嘯著向他涌來。有人誤會他在夏伊洛戰(zhàn)場上還喝著酒,數(shù)百萬民眾對此信以為真。公眾的憤怒如潮水般席卷全國,人們叫嚷著要罷免他。但是林肯卻說:

“我不能放棄這個人。他能打?!?/p>

當人們告訴林肯,格蘭特酷愛威士忌時,林肯問道:“什么牌子的?我想給其他將軍也寄幾桶過去?!?/p>

一八六三年一月,格蘭特下令遠征維克斯堡。維克斯堡位于密西西比河上方兩百英尺高的懸崖上,是一個天然要塞,因此這場戰(zhàn)役耗時長久,而且十分驚心動魄。維克斯堡的防御工事十分強大,而河上的炮艇也無法將加農(nóng)炮抬高至能打到要塞的高度。格蘭特要解決的問題便是拉近與敵軍的距離,找到最佳進攻點。

他折回到密西西比的中心地帶,試圖從東面挺進,但是失敗了。

接著他切斷了河上的防洪堤,讓軍隊坐船穿過沼澤,從北面挺進,也失敗了。

然后他挖開了河道,試圖改變密西西比河的流向,又失敗了。

這是一個惱人的冬天。雨不停地下著,河水很快便漫進了山谷,格蘭特的部隊不得不在數(shù)英里的沼澤、軟泥和叢林里掙扎。士兵們在齊腰的淤泥里吃飯睡覺。瘧疾、麻疹和天花爆發(fā)了,戰(zhàn)場上根本沒有衛(wèi)生設施,于是死亡率高得嚇人。

維克斯堡行動是失敗的——這是所有人的心聲——而且是一次愚蠢的、悲劇的、罪惡的行動。

連格蘭特自己的將領——謝爾曼、麥克弗森、洛根、威爾遜——都認為格蘭特的計劃無比荒謬,全體將士會因此死無葬身之地。全國的媒體都是一片謾罵之詞,并要求罷免格蘭特。

“除了我,他幾乎就沒朋友了。”林肯說。

林肯不顧各方的反對,堅決地支持格蘭特。他的這份信念獲得了豐厚的回報。七月四日——也是怯懦的米德在葛底斯堡放走李的那一天——格蘭特騎著馬從杰佛遜·戴維斯的種植園闖進了維克斯堡,贏得了一場巨大的勝利。這場勝利比自華盛頓時代以來,美國將領所取得的任何勝利都偉大。

經(jīng)歷了八個月凄涼的失敗后,格蘭特在維克斯堡擒獲了四萬俘虜,將整個密西西比河流域都納入了北方軍的掌控之中,從而成功地分裂了南方聯(lián)盟。

這個激動人心的消息讓全國上下都燃燒了起來。

國會特意通過了一項法令,晉升格蘭特為中將——華盛頓去世后,還沒有人獲得過這個殊榮——接著林肯將他請到了白宮,發(fā)表了一段簡短的致辭,并任命他為聯(lián)邦軍總司令。

格蘭特事先得到通知,知道自己在任命后要說幾句答謝詞。他從口袋里拿出一張皺巴巴的紙條,上面只寫了三句話??僧斔_始讀稿時,只見他手中的稿紙不停地顫抖,他的臉憋得通紅,雙膝打戰(zhàn),聲音卡在了喉嚨口。他完全崩潰了,只能雙手緊緊抓著稿紙,換了一個位置,深吸了一口氣,然后重新開始。

在這位來自格麗納的皮貨商看來,在槍林彈雨中沖鋒陷陣也比在十一個人面前說一段八十四個字的演講來得輕松。

林肯夫人非常希望能為來到華盛頓的格蘭特辦一場社交盛會,于是早早地為格蘭特預訂了一頓晚宴和一場派對??墒歉裉m特卻推辭說自己必須盡快趕往前線。

“你可不能不來,”總統(tǒng)說,“林肯夫人的晚宴少了你就像《哈姆雷特》里沒有哈姆雷特一樣。”

“對于我來說,”格蘭特回答道,“一頓晚宴意味著國家一天損失了一百萬美元。而且,我也受夠這些應酬了?!?/p>

林肯很欣賞格蘭特的說話方式,因為他和自己一樣,討厭“喧鬧和排場”,并且能夠“承擔責任并作出行動”。

林肯的心中又燃起了希望。他知道,只要有格蘭特在,一切都會好起來的。

但是他錯了。四個月后,整個國家再次陷入了絕境,比之前更黯淡的絕境。林肯又開始徹夜在房中踱步。他形容憔悴,身心俱疲,十分絕望。

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