In the morning, President Lincoln seemed to be in excellent spirits after a good night's sleep. He “wandered into the tent of the headquarters telegraph operator,” where Colonel Horace Porter and a few other members of General Grant's staff were spending some time. He proceeded to take a telegram from Secretary of War Stanton out of his pocket and said, with a broad smile, “Well, the serious Stanton is actually becoming facetious. Just listen to what he says in his dispatch: ‘Your telegram and Parke's report of the scrimmage this morning are received.’”1 General John G. Parke commanded the Ninth Corps, which had been manning the Fort Stedman sector of the Petersburg lines. “The rebel rooster looks a little the worse, as he could not hold the fence. We have nothing new here. Now you are away, everything is quiet and the tormentors vanished. I hope you will remember General Harrison's advice to his men at Tippecanoe, that they can ‘see as well a little farther off.’”² Secretary Stanton was still as worried as ever about President Lincoln's safety and was sending him a humorous warning not to put himself in danger again, as he had done at Fort Stedman.

After breakfast, the president made his way over to General Grant's headquarters; this was the beginning of a day of military reviews. General Grant told Colonel Porter, “I shall accompany the President, who is to ride ‘Cincinnati,’ as he seems to have taken a fancy to him.”³ The general rarely allowed anyone else to ride his big black horse. But since Jeff Davis was much too small to accommodate Lincoln's six-foot, four-inch frame, Grant thought it best that the president rode Cincinnati. It was a matter of comfort and convenience for the president, as well as a gesture of courtesy.

General Grant also had some instructions for Colonel Porter: “I wish you would take Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant to the reviewing ground in our headquarters ambulance,” he told the colonel.4 Although it has been designed as medical transport, the “ambulance” was frequently used as an ordinary carriage throughout the war. This particular “headquarters ambulance” had been fitted with springs, to give a smoother ride for its passengers, but it was still anything but a luxury vehicle. Colonel Porter expressed his pleasure “at bring selected for so pleasant a mission” as serving as escort for the president's wife. His pleasure would turn to something a great deal more disagreeable and unpleasant before the day was over.

The second major event of the day, after the president's visit, was the arrival of General Philip Sheridan. “Sheridan reached City Point on the 26th day of March,” General Grant reported in his usual straightforward manner.⁵ General Sheridan's army had just reached Harrison's Landing and his cavalry would be riding north to join with General Grant's forces.

Before setting off on his review of troops with President Lincoln, Grant took a few minutes to have a private conversation with General Sheridan regarding the activities of his army. Grant had already met with Sheridan, and had advised him to return to North Carolina to join forces with William Tecumseh Sherman against Confederate general Joseph E. Johnston's army. But in this second conversation, when there would be no one else present, General Grant informed Sheridan, “General, this portion of your instructions I have put in merely as a bind”—in other words, he did not want his actual plans to be made public.⁶ Grant was using this meeting, in private, to inform General Sheridan of his actual plans: he intended to keep General Sheridan with him as part of the Army of the Potomac; Sheridan would not be going south to join General Sherman; and Grant was planning to bring the war to an end as soon as possible right there in Virginia—“I intend to close the war right here,” is the way he put it. General Sheridan had not been happy about leaving Grant for North Carolina; his face “at once brightened up” when he heard Grant's change of plan. “I'm glad to hear it,” he said, slapping his leg, “and we can do it.”

General Sheridan was invited to join President Lincoln and his party on their trip to review his own troops. The River Queen cast off at eleven o'clock, carrying the Lincolns and their guests—the Grants, General Sheridan, Admiral Porter, Lieutenant Commander Barnes, Colonel Horace Porter, and General Grant's secretary Adam Badeau—up the James River. Horses and Grant's headquarters ambulance were also loaded aboard. “The president was in a more gloomy mood than usual on the trip up the James,” Colonel Porter observed. “He spoke with much seriousness about the situation, and did not attempt to tell a single anecdote.”7

It did not take long for the River Queen to reach the place where Sheridan's troops were making their way across the river. The cavalry was in the process of crossing a pontoon bridge, which had been built by army engineers for the occasion. While the rest of the men waited for their turn to cross, they washed themselves in the river, watered their horses, and generally enjoyed themselves, “laughing and shouting to each other and having a fine time.” When they found out that the president was watching them, the cavalrymen “cheered vociferously.”⁸

The River Queen left Sheridan's cavalry behind and steamed past Admiral Porter's flotilla of warships, which were a short distance upriver, giving President Lincoln another spectacle. It was quite an array of naval power—the ships were “dressed with flags, the crews on deck cheering as the River Queen passed by.”⁹ The president returned the salute—“as he passed each vessel, [he] waved his high hat as if saluting old friends in his native town, and seemed as happy as a schoolboy.”

President Lincoln's mood certainly had changed since he left City Point. His entire attitude had improved completely, almost miraculously. When the River Queen tied up alongside Admiral Porter's flagship, the USS Malvern, the president and his entourage discovered that they were the admiral's guests for lunch. Lincoln was clearly delighted by the “grand luncheon” and by the quantity and variety of the food that was being served.10 “It was the cause of funny comments and remarks by the President,” including jokes about the difference between life in the army, with its hardtack and mud marches and dismal unpalatable rations, and life aboard ship, which featured appetizing lunches. Everybody laughed at Lincoln's remarks, and he visibly enjoyed being “the moving spirit” of the occasion as much as he enjoyed lunch.

After lunch, the River Queen left Admiral Porter's flotilla and proceeded to take the president and his guests to Aitken's Landing. General Grant had planned a presidential review of troops under General Edward O. C. Ord, commander of the Army of the James. All the horses, along with the headquarters ambulance, were put ashore for the trip inland to the reviewing ground.

When the River Queen arrived at Aitken's Landing, several officers were on hand to escort the president and all the other visitors to the review. General Ord wanted to make a favorable impression with both the president and General Grant and spared no effort in his attempt to show his troops to their best possible advantage. “There were probably twenty or thirty officers and a few orderlies in the party,” Commander Barnes wrote, “all in their best uniforms, and as brilliant a squadron as could be expected from an army in the field.”¹¹

After the presidential group had come ashore, the party traveled the four miles to the parade ground in two groups. The president, General Grant, Commander Barnes, and General Ord rode to the review on horseback, accompanied by some of General Ord's officers. Mary Lincoln, Julia Grant, Colonel Horace Porter, and Colonel Adam Badeau followed behind in the ambulance.

Mrs. Lincoln was upset and more than slightly annoyed when she discovered that her husband would not be riding in the ambulance with her. The reason that the president rode ahead with the officers was simple enough: as commander in chief, the president's place was to be with General Grant and General Ord as they inspected the troops, not to ride in a carriage with his wife. But Mary Lincoln was not interested in the reason behind the president's absence. She did not like being separated from her husband, and she was extremely unhappy that he would not be traveling to the parade ground with her.

As he rode off toward General Ord's encampment, Lincoln had no inkling of the trouble that was developing back on the riverbank: “The President was in high spirits, laughing and chatting first to General Grant and then to General Ord as they rode forward through the woods and over the swamps.”12 His horse was gentle, “gentle with an easy pacing,” according to Commander Barnes, which allowed the president to enjoy both the ride and the company of Grant and the other officers.

Even though President Lincoln would be appearing in front of hundreds of soldiers and officers under General Ord's command, he did not seem to have given very much thought to his appearance. This was not unusual—Lincoln seldom paid very much attention to the way he looked: “The President was dressed in a long-tailed black frock coat, not buttoned, black vest, low cut, with a considerable expanse of a rather rumpled shirt front, a black carelessly tied necktie, black trousers without straps, which, as he ambled along, gradually worked up uncomfortably and displayed some inches of white socks.”¹³

Lincoln might not exactly have been a total sartorial horror, but he was anything but a fashion plate. The commander went on to say that the president also wore “a high silk hat, rather out of fashion,” and that had probably never been brushed. At least his costume did not interfere with his riding. He galloped along “with some ease;” although the stirrups were adjusted to their extreme length “to suit his extraordinarily long limbs.”14

President Lincoln and the officers in his group covered the distance between Aitken's Landing and General Ord's parade ground in good time. But because of the delay caused by Admiral Porter's elaborate lunch, they arrived much later than expected. When they reached the reviewing grounds, Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant were nowhere to be seen—nobody knew if they had taken the wrong road and were lost, or if they had gotten off to a late start, or exactly what had happened to them.

General Ord's troops had been waiting for the review to begin for the past several hours, “drawn up in a wide field at parade rest,” and also had not eaten anything since breakfast.¹⁵ General Ord asked General Grant if he wanted to delay the start of the review until Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant arrived. General Grant asked President Lincoln—as commander in chief, he had the final say. The president did not want any additional postponement, and the review finally began—without Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant.

The two ladies, accompanied by Colonel Porter and Colonel Badeau, were on their way, but were being slowed by both the roads and by the ungainliness of their ambulance/carriage. Colonel Porter would later remark, “as the road was swampy, and part of it corduroyed with the trunks of small trees…the ambulance could make but slow progress.”¹⁶ As far as the vehicle itself was concerned, the additional springs that had been installed for the comfort of the passengers actually turned out to be a liability. When one of the wheels struck an obstacle, or ran over an oversized tree trunk in the corduroyed road, the new springs bounced the four people out of their seats with more force than before the springs were fitted. It was turning out to be a jarring and uncomfortable trip.

At this point in time, Mary Lincoln's primary concern was not with her own personal comfort. Her main concern was that she would be late for the review, and she wanted to go faster. Colonel Porter heard what she said and reluctantly ordered the driver to increase speed. This only served to make the ride even more uncomfortable—“when the horses trotted, the mud flew in all directions, and a sudden jolt lifted the party clear off the seats.”17

The jolt slammed Mrs. Lincoln's head against the ambulance roof; the impact was forceful enough to trigger a severe headache. (Some sources insist that it was a migraine.) This put her in an even worse mood than before, which increased her anger and impatience. She took her antagonism out on everybody around her. According to one of her biographers, “Mary Lincoln berated horses, driver, aides, and Julia Grant.”¹⁸ In her anger, she even insisted on getting out of the vehicle and walking, but was soon talked out of this—the road was literally knee-deep in mud. “I persuaded her that we had better stick to the wagon as our only ark of refuge,” is the way Colonel Porter put it.¹⁹

By the time that Mrs. Lincoln and the others arrived at the parade ground, the review had already begun. She immediately spotted her husband among the generals and the soldiers—at six-foot-four, wearing a tall black hat, he would have been difficult to miss. She also could not help but notice that the president was accompanied by General Ord's wife, Mary Ord, who has been described as “a remarkably handsome woman and a most accomplished equestrienne,” who handled her horse expertly and with “extreme grace.”²⁰

Mrs. Ord saw the ambulance at about the same time, and rode across the field with Commander Barnes to join Mrs. Lincoln, with the president not far behind. Mary Lincoln was not glad to see Mary Ord, to put it mildly—she was outraged by the fact that this “remarkably handsome woman” had been allowed to ride at the side of her husband, as well as by the fact that her husband seemed to be enjoying her company. She began calling Mrs. Ord any number of unflattering names, loud enough so that everyone within earshot could hear everything she said. Mrs. Ord was stunned by this outburst. Bystanders saw her burst into tears and ask Mrs. Lincoln exactly what she had done wrong. Julia Grant did everything she could to calm the president's wife and defuse the situation, but Mary Lincoln was in a frenzy and was in no mood to be placated.

After venting her anger and resentment at Mary Ord, Mrs. Lincoln next turned on her husband. She climbed down out of the ambulance and strode toward him in an obvious bad temper. As soon as she reached the president, she began scolding him and berating him for allowing Mary Ord on the parade ground. She was very jealous of her status as First Lady—the New York Herald had used the term “Presidentress” to describe her position, which Mary Lincoln clearly enjoyed21—and was also jealous of Mrs. Ord. “Mrs. Lincoln repeatedly attacked her husband in the presence of officers,” according to Colonel Badeau.²²

President Lincoln did his best to retain a trace of dignity through all this: “He bore it as Christ might have done with an expression of pain and sadness that cut one to the heart, but with supreme calmness and dignity.”²³ Like Julia Grant, he tried his best to calm his wife. Nothing he said seemed to have any effect. “He called her ‘mother,’ with his old-time plainness. He pleaded with his eyes and tones, till she turned on him like a tigress, and then he walked away hiding his noble ugly face that we might not catch the full expression of its misery.” Apparently, he had given up on any further attempts to placate his wife.

But Mrs. Lincoln's display of temper had not yet run its course. That night, aboard the River Queen, President and Mrs. Lincoln entertained General and Mrs. Grant, along with members of the general's staff. During dinner, Mary Lincoln once again scolded her husband for flirting with Mrs. Ord, and urged him to remove General Ord from his command. General Ord was unfit, she insisted, to say nothing of his wife. General Grant spoke up on General Ord's defense, in spite of Mrs. Lincoln's tirade. His words did not seem to have any effect on Mrs. Lincoln, any more than the president's did that afternoon.

Julia Grant gives a much more diplomatic account of Mary Lincoln's activities than Colonel Badeau. According to Mrs. Grant's version, Mrs. Lincoln was growing “more and more indignant” regarding Mrs. Ord, and lashed out at General Ord when he suggested that Mrs. Lincoln should get a “finely-trained” horse that “will not let the lady leave her husband's side.”24 The general was trying to make a joke that would soothe the president's wife, but his remark only served to make a bad situation even worse.

Seeing that Mary Lincoln was in a highly agitated frame of mind, Mrs. Grant tried her best to act as peacemaker. “Dear Mrs. Lincoln, he does not mean anything,” she said quietly, placing her hand on Mary Lincoln's hand. “He has only made an unfortunate speech.” Mrs. Dent also requested that General Ord stop presenting any more of his officers to Mrs. Lincoln, “gallant fellows who dashed past,” because the president's wife was so out of sorts.²⁵ Mary Lincoln then turned on Mrs. Grant, making cutting remarks, asking if she supposed that she would get to the White House herself someday, but Mrs. Grant makes no mention of this in her account.

Colonel Horace Porter does not mention anything at all about Mrs. Lincoln's behavior. He only says that Mrs. Ord and the wives of several of the officers “appeared on horseback as a mounted escort to Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant.”²⁶ As far as the review itself is concerned, Colonel Porter does note that Mrs. Grant “enjoyed the day with zest,” but goes on to say that Mrs. Lincoln was so tired and stressed that “she was not in a mood to derive much pleasure from the occasion.” This statement represents either the height of diplomacy or else was an attempt to raise understatement to a new level. He ends his account by advising that in future ambulances should never be used “as vehicles for driving distinguished ladies to military reviews,” but should only be “confined to their legitimate uses of transporting the wounded and attending funerals.”

Commander John S. Barnes did not witness the commotion that had been caused by Mrs. Lincoln—he had been riding with the president and his group at the time. But when he galloped across the parade ground to meet the two women later in the day, he immediately could tell that something was wrong. “Our reception was not cordial,” he stated, “it was evident that some unpleasantness had occurred.”27 Porter and Badeau looked unhappy, and Mrs. Grant sat there silent and embarrassed. The best course of action, at least as far as he was concerned, was to ride away from the ambulance and its inhabitants—“it was a painful situation for which the only solution was to retire.” Along with Mrs. Ord and a few officers, Commander Barnes rode back to headquarters at City Point.

The cause of Mary Lincoln's “erratic” behavior, as it has been frequently described, had been the subject of argument and speculation even before Mrs. Lincoln became First Lady. She had always been nervous, impulsive, and prone to mood swings. “Hints of Mary's erratic personality appeared early in her adult life,” according to one source; she was subject to “lavish spending sprees and grandiose thinking.”²⁸ But no one, from historians to psychologists, has been able to agree over what made Mary Lincoln's behavior so erratic.

One explanation, probably the most frequent, is mental illness. “Three of her four kids didn't live to adulthood, and her husband was shot as he held her hand,” is another opinion.²⁹ “If anyone ever deserved to go crazy, it was Mary Todd Lincoln.” But mental illness is only one justification. “It is hard enough to diagnose mental illness when a patient is alive,” stated one expert. “You might be able to attach it”—Mrs. Lincoln's behavior—“to mental illness. You can also explain it according to events and circumstances. It doesn't have to be mental illness.”

Some physicians have attributed her bizarre conduct to bipolar disorder; others have blamed a brain disorder caused by syphilis. Other possible causes included diabetes, chronic fatigue disorder, and Lyme disease. A cardiologist wrote that Mary Lincoln may have suffered from pernicious anemia, which is caused by vitamin B-12 deficiency.30

The most persistent reason remains mental illness, largely because Mary Lincoln was committed to a mental institution in 1875. Her son Robert, who was a practicing attorney in the State of Illinois at the time, arranged an insanity trial for his mother. During the trial, Robert testified, “I have no doubt my mother is insane. She has long been a source of great anxiety to me.”³¹ The finding of the court agreed with Robert Lincoln. Mary Lincoln was committed to a private mental institution, Bellevue Palace, in Batavia, Illinois, on May 20, 1875. Less than four months later, on September 11, 1875, she was released into the custody of her sister and brother-in-law, Ninian and Elizabeth Edwards. On June 15, 1876, Mary was declared legally sane by a Chicago court.

Mary Lincoln may or may not have been insane, but she certainly was persistent. After the stress and strain caused by the unpleasant events of March 26, Commander John S. Barnes decided to go to bed early. But at about eleven o'clock, an orderly interrupted his sleep with a message from the president—Lincoln wanted to see him aboard the River Queen. Commander Barnes dressed as quickly as possible and reported to the River Queen, where he found Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln waiting for him in the upper saloon.

The president seemed “weary and greatly distressed.”³² He was in the middle of an uncomfortable discussion on the subject of Mrs. Ord—it seemed to Commander Barnes that the exchange more of an interrogation than a discussion. Mary Lincoln was continuing with her argument of earlier in the day. She insisted that Mrs. Ord had been “too prominent” during the review that day, and that her husband had “distinguished her with too much attention.” The president “very gently suggested” that he had “hardly remarked to the presence of the lady.” But Mrs. Lincoln was not satisfied with her husband's explanation, “and appealed to me to support her views.” Even several hours after the review had finished, Mrs. Lincoln would not let the matter of Mrs. Ord come to an end.

Commander Barnes was embarrassed by the argument, as well as by the fact that he had been called in to take part in it. Actually, the president did not have much to say—he seemed almost as embarrassed as Commander Barnes. The commander later said that he was not in any position to answer Mrs. Lincoln's question—“I could not umpire such a question,” is the way he put it.33 He “could only state why Mrs. Ord and myself found ourselves in the reviewing column,” and that they immediately withdrew from it as soon as Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant appeared in the ambulance. In other words, he tried to calm Mrs. Lincoln without causing any additional embarrassment to President Lincoln or to himself.

“It was a very unhappy experience,” Commander Barnes recalled. “I extricated myself as well as I could, but with difficulty,” he went on, “and asked permission to retire.”³⁴ The president said good night, “sadly and gently.” The commander set out for City Point on horseback.

Commander Barnes does not mention exactly when he arrived back at City Point. He only states that he was “rather tired, with my unwonted horseback experience.”³⁵ But the River Queen, accompanied by the USS Bat, returned to her City Point dock at about 8:15 p.m. Probably sometime after dinner, and following Mrs. Lincoln's tirade against General Ord, the president and General Grant retreated to the after part of the boat to talk. “Neither the President not General Grant joined even in a square dance, but sat in the after part of the boat conversing,” according to Colonel Horace Porter.³⁶

According to Colonel Porter, the main topic of conversation was the campaign against General Lee's army and how to put a stop to the battles and the fighting and the killing as soon as possible. The president was anxious to avoid another prolonged operation, which would not only result in thousands of additional killed and wounded but would also put an additional financial strain on the Federal treasury—the war was costing about four million dollars a day. The general did his best to answer all the president's questions, and to put his mind at rest.

“General Grant now confided in the President his determination to move against Lee as soon as the roads were dry enough,” Colonel Porter would later write, “and to make what was intended to be the final campaign.”37 His immediate plans were to accomplish two things: to dislodge General Lee's army from its Petersburg trenches; and to make certain that General Philip Sheridan's cavalry would reach the rail station at Danville, down near the North Carolina border, in time to stop General Lee from escaping to join General Joseph E. Johnston. He also assured President Lincoln that his aim was exactly the same as the president's—to put an end to the fighting quickly and to force the surrender Lee and his army.

The discussion went on for quite some time. Neither the president nor General Grant paid any attention to the festivities that were taking place aboard the River Queen; the music and all the activity did not distract them at all. At about 10:00 p.m., the conversation finally ended—by that time, General Grant had successfully replied to all of the president's questions and concerns. He unceremoniously took his leave from the man he referred to as “Mr. Lincoln,” and returned to his headquarters.

In the trenches south of Petersburg, about ten miles southwest of City Point, Colonel Elisha Hunt Rhodes had no idea what President Lincoln and General Grant had in mind for his own immediate future. His diary entry for March 26 was mainly concerned with the fighting at Fort Stedman the day before. “We had a very exciting day yesterday,” he wrote. It was also a very long day, which began with a five-mile march in relief of the Ninth Corps, included “a good shelling” from Confederate artillery, and ended when the sun finally went down and it was too dark to see the enemy. “We had neither breakfast nor dinner and were half starved when we reached camp at 3 o'clock this morning.”38

There would be many more such days for Colonel Rhodes and his men in the very near future. The offensive that Rhodes had anticipated for the past several weeks had finally begun.