I Beg To Present You As A

I See Every Chance Of A Long, Confused And Disorganizing Civil War, And I Feel No Desire To Take A Hand Therein.

The Young Bloods Of The South: Sons Of Planters, Lawyers About Towns, Good Billiard-players And Sportsmen, Men Who Never Did Any Work And Never Will... They Are Splendid Riders, First-rate Shots And Utterly Reckless. These Men Must All Be Killed Or Employed By Us Before We Can Hope For Peace.

To Secure The Safety Of The Navigation Of The Mississippi River I Would Slay Millions. On That Point I Am Not Only Insane, But Mad... I Think I See One Or Two Quick Blows That Will Astonish The Natives Of The South And Will Convince Them That, Though To Stand Behind A Big Cottonwood And Shoot At A Passing Boat Is Good Sport And Safe, It May Still Reach And Kill Their Friends And Families Hundreds Of Miles Off. For Every Bullet Shot At A Steamboat, I Would Shoot A Thousand 30-pounder Parrots Into Even Helpless Towns On Red, Ouachita, Yazoo, Or Wherever A Boat Can Float Or Soldier March.

I Know I Had No Hand In Making This War, And I Know I Will Make More Sacrifices To-day Than Any Of You To Secure Peace.

Though I Never Ordered It, And Never Wished For It, I Have Never Shed Any Tears Over The Event, Because I Believe That It Hastened What We All Fought For, The End Of The War.