The president went on to say that Grant had “been out” from City Point since yesterday morning, but that “no considerable effect has yet been produced.” His nerves were beginning to get the better of him—he was well aware that General Grant was planning a general advance against General Lee, and wished that he would begin his attack and get it over with. Waiting for news was making him tense and jittery.
There were at least some individuals back in Washington who were not sorry that the president was away. Gideon Welles spoke with Secretary of State Seward, who was under the impression that Lincoln should have returned by that time. But Secretary of War Stanton remarked “that it was quite as pleasant to have the President away, and that he (Stanton) was much less annoyed” when Lincoln was not present.2 Not everyone missed Lincoln, at least not all of his cabinet members.
Actually, General Grant had telegraphed the president, but his communiqué had nothing to do with his pending general attack. He let Lincoln know that all of his troops were in position for the coming attack against General Lee—“our troops have all been pushed forward” is the way that Grant phrased it—but this was sent just to keep the commander in chief informed.3 Because of the torrential rain that came down all day long on Thursday, the troops were not able to go anywhere. Grant was not able to send any more definite information about his planned offensive.
As soon as the rain let up, General Grant knew exactly what he wanted to do. He had telegraphed General Philip Sheridan on the day before, and told him, “I feel now like ending the matter, if it is possible to do so, before going back.”4 He also instructed General Sheridan not to “cut loose and go after the enemy's roads.” Instead, he wanted Sheridan to “push around the enemy, if you can, and get on his right rear…. We will all act together as one army until it is seen what can be done with the enemy.”
Grant did not intend to capture the roads, the rail links, or any of the transportation links that had been keeping the Army of Northern Virginia fed and equipped. Instead, he was going to go after the army itself. He wanted to end the war as soon as it was possible, to end the matter, and the best way of accomplishing this would be to go right at the enemy.
The only problem was that it looked like it was never going to stop raining. As the downpour went on, the roads got worse. “Sometimes a horse or a mule would be standing apparently on firm ground,” General Grant wrote, “when all at once one foot would sink, and as he commenced scrambling to catch himself all his feet would sink and he would have to be drawn by hand out of the quicksands.”5 If the roads could not support a single horse or a mule, they certainly would not be able to sustain a unit of cavalry.
General Grant ordered the construction of corduroy roads “every foot of the way as we advanced” toward the country southwest of Petersburg, which was also toward the farthest left flank of the Confederate lines. The general was fairly satisfied with the progress of the corduroying. “The army had become so acquainted to this kind of work,” he said, “and were so well prepared for it, that it was done very rapidly.”6
But even though Grant was satisfied with the road restoration, there were some who thought it might be advisable to postpone the coming assault. General John A. Rawlins, Grant's friend and confident, told the general that he had his doubts about the impending offensive. According to General Rawlins, the success of turning Lee's right flank depended upon quickness of movement, which would be impossible because of the bad weather and the bad roads. If the Federal forces did not move from their present position quickly, Joseph Johnston might attack from the rear. The bad roads would make it impossible to deliver forage to General Sheridan's cavalry, and the inability to move forward would give Lee more time to prepare his defenses. In short, “it might be better to fall back, and make a fresh start later on.”7
General Grant was not impressed with General Rawlins's argument, even though he listened patiently until Rawlins finished. He replied that if Joe Johnston was able to move quickly enough to reach him in such foul weather, he would turn on Johnston with his entire command, annihilate his army, and then go after Lee. Grant was not about to let anything as trivial as bad weather or flooded roads get in his way or interfere with his plans.
No sooner had this conversation ended than General Sheridan rode into the headquarters camp on Breckinridge, his white horse, slowly through knee-deep mud. When he dismounted, the general was asked about “the situation” on the extreme left flank, out toward Dinwiddie Court House. General Sheridan was as forceful and as optimistic in his outlook as General Grant had been. “I can drive in the whole cavalry force of the enemy with ease,” he informed the assembled staff officers—General Grant had retired to his tent—“and if an infantry force is added to my command, I can strike out for Lee's right, and either crush it of force him to so weaken his intrenched lines that our troops in front of him can break through and march into Petersburg.”8 Sheridan's entire manner almost bristled with confidence. If President Lincoln had been present, his many anxieties about the fighting to come would have been put to rest, or at least reduced to their proper perspective.
One of the staff officers brought up the subject of forage—food for the animals—one of General Rawlins's concerns. “Forage!” Sheridan shouted. “I'll get up all the forage I want. I'll haul it out, if I have to set every man in the command to corduroying roads, and corduroying every mile of them from the railroad to Dinwiddie. I tell you, I'm ready to strike out to-morrow and go to smashing things.”9
Grant came over and spoke with General Sheridan in private, on the subject of Sheridan's immediate plans. After about twenty minutes, Sheridan said goodbye to Grant, mounted his horse, waved to the onlooking staff officers, and began riding off to the southwest, toward Dinwiddie. As he had predicted, he would very shortly go to smashing things.
President Lincoln's mind was still as preoccupied with the war as ever, but his view was basically that of an onlooker and spectator. Just standing by and waiting for news was not helping to calm his nerves. If anything, the anticipation of the coming campaign, and the accompanying loss of life, was only serving to make him even more tense and uneasy.
An incident that took place on the night of March 29 gives some idea of the state of the president's mood. Firing broke out in the vicinity of Petersburg at 10:15 p.m., and lasted for two hours. Lincoln described it as “a heavy musketry-fire,” which lasted about two hours.10 “The sound was very distinct here,” in City Point, “as also were the flashes of the guns upon the clouds.” The president was under the impression that “a great battle” had started, “but the older hands here scarcely noticed it, and, sure enough, this morning it was found that very little had been done.”
General John G. Parke, in command of the Ninth Corps, solved the mystery behind all the firing and noise the next day. General Parke telegraphed that the enemy had driven in his picket lines near Fort Stedman—“Signal Rockets were thrown up by the enemy & general cannonading ensued accompanied with heavy musketry on both sides.”11 This is what the president had seen from City Point—not a “great battle” but only a local skirmish. “The main line was not touched,” General Parke went on, “& the picket line re-established.”
This had only been a skirmish, but the battle that the president was anticipating, and that was making him so tense and anxious, was not very far off.
At 12:30 p.m., General Grant sent President Lincoln the news he had been waiting for: “There has been much hard fighting this morning,” the general telegraphed. “The enemy drove our left from near Dabney's house back well toward the Boydton plank road. We are now about to take the offensive at that point, and I hope will more than recover the lost ground.”1
The final campaign, the battle that Lincoln hoped would be the last of the war, had started. The rain was still coming down in torrents, but General Grant's advance was underway. General Sheridan had assigned a division under General George Armstrong Custer to keep working on the roads to make them more passable. General
Lee sent two infantry divisions, along with most of his cavalry, to stop Sheridan in the vicinity of Dinwiddie Court House.
The Confederates managed to push Sheridan back; two Federal divisions broke and ran when the enemy attacked. General Grant blamed General Gouverneur K. Warren for this setback. According to Grant, General Warren had moved his troops much too slowly and, when he finally did move forward to reinforce Sheridan, he was much too deliberate about it. If Warren's troops had been in position, and had been on hand to support General Sheridan, the reverse never would have taken place.
But the setback turned out to be minor and temporary. That afternoon, General Sheridan recovered from the morning's loss and set to strike out and go smashing things, as he phrased it, at the strategic crossroads of Five Forks, just a few miles away. General Lee had set his men to digging trenches and earthworks at Five Forks, which was the junction of five roads and a vitally important strategic location. Both Grant and Lee recognized this. General Lee knew that Five Forks was the key to protecting his right flank; he would not be able to stay in Petersburg if Grant took possession of this crossroads. General Grant also knew this, and realized that General Lee would do his best to protect Five Forks. He was not at all surprised when General Sheridan reported that Lee was hard at work fortifying the junction.
It had stopped raining by late afternoon, and the sun had actually broken through the clouds. General Sheridan ordered Custer and his cavalry to make a counterattack, a grand charge at the enemy. Custer did his best to comply, but the ground was too soft and soggy. The horses were barely able to walk through the quagmire or make any headway at all, let alone gallop. The grand charge Sheridan and Custer had planned got stuck in the mud.
But even though Custer's cavalry charge failed, infantry units managed push their way forward in spite of the mud, and drove the Confederates back to their own lines. The Federal troops not only reoccupied the ground they lost that morning, they even captured four of the enemy's flags. In a communiqué to Confederate Secretary of War John C. Breckinridge, General Lee summed up the day's activities. He wrote that “the enemy advanced and was firmly met by our troops and driven back” to the vicinity of Boydton Plank Road. “Our troops were then withdrawn and were followed by the enemy, who in turn drove us back to our lines.”2
President Lincoln received a telegram from General Grant at about 7:00 p.m., which updated the general's earlier message and essentially said the same thing that Lee had told Breckinridge: “Our troops after being driven back on to Boydton plank road turned & drove the Enemy in turn & took the White Oak Road which we now have. This gives us the ground occupied by the Enemy this morning.”3 In what was probably an attempt to cheer up the president, Grant added, “I will send you a rebel flag captured by our troops in driving the Enemy back,” and went on to say that four flags had been captured.
Although President Lincoln was clearly very nervous and apprehensive about the fighting that had finally begun, it might have encouraged him to know that General Grant and General Sheridan had no doubts at all. Colonel Horace Porter spoke with General Sheridan just north of Dinwiddie Court House and found the general happy and optimistic. A band from one of Sheridan's units was nearby, and was “playing ‘Nellie Bly’ as cheerfully as if furnishing music for a country picnic.”4
The colonel found General Sherman in the same mood as his musicians. He was not at all upset by the day's events—he said that it had been “one of the liveliest days in his existence,” and went on to say that he would hold his position at Dinwiddie “at all hazards.”5 As far as he was concerned, it was the enemy's troops that were in danger, not his: “We at last have drawn the enemy's infantry out of its trenches, and this is our chance to attack it.”
The general's main concern was with the immediate future, for what was to come during the next few days, and with preparing for the attack on General Lee's infantry. Troops kept moving into position, but the roads were still knee-deep in mud. To complicate matters still further, a bridge had to be built over Gravelley Run in the middle of the night. “Staff-officers were rushing from one headquarters to another,” Colonel Porter remembered, “making extraordinary efforts to hurry up the movement of troops.”6 Everyone from President Lincoln to every private in every regiment waited for the morning.
President Lincoln received a telegram from Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton on the subject of the president's stay at City Point. “I hope you will stay to see it out, or for a few days at least,” Secretary Stanton said, encouraging Lincoln to stay where he was. “I have strong faith that your presence will have great influence in inducing exertions that will bring Richmond; compared to that no other duty can weigh a feather.”7 Stanton assured Lincoln that there was nothing for him to do in Washington except “petty private ends that you should not be annoyed with,” and ended with, “All well here.”
As Secretary of War, Stanton's main interest over Lincoln's presence at City Point concerned the army—that he would help maintain the army's morale and would also have a “great influence” on its “exertions.” But, as Gideon Welles pointed out, Stanton had also remarked “that it was quite as pleasant to have the President away,” and also said that he was “much less annoyed” when Lincoln was not in Washington.8
The most important event for President Lincoln, or at least the event that had the most immediate effect on his life at City Point, was the departure of Mary Lincoln for Washington. One of Lincoln's biographers wrote, “To her husband's undoubted relief, she went back to Washington, leaving Tad with his father.”1 The president telegraphed Edwin M. Stanton on Saturday afternoon, “Mrs. L. has started home; and I will thank you to see that our coachman is at the Arsenal wharf at eight (8) o'clock to-morrow morning, there wait until she arrives.”2
Mary Lincoln, for her own part, seemed very glad to get away from everything and everyone connected with City Point. Secretary of State Seward, who had been visiting the president for the past two days, accompanied Mrs. Lincoln back to Washington aboard the steamer Monohasset. An associate of the president named Carl Schurz, who had campaigned for Lincoln in 1860, remarked that Mary Lincoln's spirits rose very quickly as soon as she was away from City Point. Carl Schurz also noted that she was “overwhelmingly charming to me,” and that she “had me driven to my hotel in her own state carriage” as soon as the Monohasset docked.3 Mrs. Lincoln felt more at home in the White House, where her role as First Lady was clearly defined, than in the man's world of an army base surrounded by troops and officers and munitions.
While his wife was on her way back to Washington, President Lincoln spent much of the day on Saturday at City Point's telegraph office. General Grant had promised to keep the president notified concerning activities southwest of Petersburg “because he was so much interested in the movements taking place that I wanted to relieve his mind as much as I could.”4
The general telegraphed the president three times on April 1. The first two messages were mainly concerned with the fighting of the previous day, which moved Lincoln to complain that “they contain little additional except that Sheridan also had pretty hot work yesterday, that infantry was sent to his support during the night, and that he, Grant, has not since heard from Sheridan.”5 But Grant's third dispatch, which was received at 5:05 p.m., contained just the news that Lincoln had been waiting for. Federal cavalry under General Thomas C. Devin had “carried the barricade” at Five Forks that had been held by George E. Pickett's division, and “the whole 5th Corps” is now moving up toward Five Forks to attack the enemy.6 “Our men have never fought better,” the message goes on. “All are in excellent spirits and are anxious to go in…. The enemys loss yesterday was very heavy many of their dead are lying in the woods.”
The telegram had actually been sent by Colonel Horace Porter, who had been expressly posted to Sheridan's command by General Grant. “I wish you would spend the day with Sheridan's command and send me a bulletin every half-hour or so,” Grant told Porter, “advising me fully of the
progress made.”7 Colonel Porter met General Sheridan at about 10:00 a.m. on the Five Forks road, and stayed with him throughout most of the day. As a result, he also had a first-hand view of the fighting throughout the day, because Sheridan was usually in the middle of it. His account of what he saw at Five Forks is vivid and colorful.
“Bullets were now humming like a swarm of bees around our heads, and shells were crashing through the ranks,” he wrote. Several members of General Sheridan's staff were shot, including a sergeant who had been holding the general's personal battle flag. “All this time Sheridan was dashing from one point of the line to another, waving his flag, shaking his fist, encouraging, entreating, threatening, praying, swearing, the true personification of chivalry, the very incarnation of battle.”8
Colonel Porter had been sending frequent dispatches to General Grant back at headquarters during this time, including the message that President Lincoln received at 5:05 p.m. At about 7:30, he started back to headquarters to report to General Grant in person. He covered the distance between Five Forks and Grant's headquarters as quickly as the muddy roads allowed and found the general and his staff sitting around a “blazing camp-fire.” Grant wore a blue cavalry overcoat, and sat quietly smoking a cigar. As soon as he arrived, Colonel Porter started shouting the news—General Sheridan had broken General Lee's line, the way to the Confederate rear was now wide open, and thousands of prisoners had been taken.
The colonel was so excited that at least one onlooker thought he must be drunk. “Dignity was thrown to the winds,” Porter remembered.9 He became so carried away that he slapped General Grant on the back—much to the general's surprise, and everybody else's amusement. The general did not join in all the shouting and excitement. He just stood silently, watching the commotion with a cigar in his mouth, until he heard Porter mention prisoners. “How many prisoners were taken?” he wanted to know. Colonel Porter responded that over five thousand prisoners were now behind the Union lines, and noticed that the general's expression actually changed slightly when he heard the colonel's answer—Grant's “impassive features” gave way to a slight smile.
The Last Weeks of Abraham Lincoln Page 12