At about 8:30 in the morning, President Lincoln went ashore from the River Queen to say goodbye to General Grant, who was in the process of moving his headquarters to the Petersburg front. When the president arrived, horses were being put aboard the train that would take the general and his staff the ten or so miles to Petersburg. General Grant livened up the occasion with a funny story—he regaled the president with one of the “numerous ingenious and impracticable suggestions” on how to win the war that were sent to him on an almost daily basis.1 The latest idea was to equip the Union army with bayonets that were exactly one foot longer than the enemy's. When the two armies met in battle, “our bayonets would go clear through the enemy, while theirs would not reach far enough to touch our men, and the war would be ended.”

The president laughed at the story, and reciprocated with a story of his own about the “terror of cold steel.”² When he was a young man visiting Louisville, a “very tough-looking citizen” blocked his way and waved a bowie knife in front of his face. After a few minutes, the knife-wielding “citizen” asked, “Stranger, kin you lend me five dollars on that?” Lincoln quickly reached into his pocket and handed the man a bank note. “There's ten, neighbor; now put up your scythe.”

These jokes provided one of the few light moments for the president that morning. General Grant had already said goodbye to his wife. Colonel Horace Porter thought that Julia Grant looked sad and sorrowful, but Mrs. Grant said that she felt nothing but admiration as her husband “mounted and rode away to victory and peace.”3 But as President Lincoln walked toward the train with General Grant, Colonel Porter remarked that the president seemed more serious than at any other time since he had been at City Point—“The lines on his face seemed deeper and the rings under his eyes were of a darker hue.”⁴

Just before the general and his staff boarded the train, the president shook hands with Grant and with every officer on the platform. Once on board, everyone raised their hats “respectfully” to the president. President Lincoln returned the salute and said, in a voice choked with emotion, “Good-by, gentlemen. God bless you all.”⁵ And in a remark that was typical Lincoln, he added, “Remember, your success is my success.” He was fully aware that he would never had been reelected in 1864 if it had not been for the accomplishments of the army in the field, especially the capture of Atlanta by General Sherman.

General Grant recognized the president's uneasy state of mind. “He intends to remain at City Point for the present, and will be the most anxious man in the country to hear from us, his heart is so wrapped up in our success,” he told Colonel Porter and other staff members on board the train.⁶ Grant did not seem very concerned about the immediate future, and predicted, “but I think we can send him some good news in a day or two.”

The general wasted no time in communicating with President Lincoln—he sent the president three telegrams within hours of leaving City Point. In his first communiqué, Grant informed Lincoln that he had arrived at the front at 11:15 a.m., and that there was “No firing.”⁷ His second message stated that all troops were in their assigned positions for the coming offensive, and that there still had not been any enemy opposition. But it was the general's third telegram, sent from Gravelley Creek and received at 5:10 p.m., that immediately captured Lincoln's attention. Grant wired that General Charles Griffin's division had been attacked at about 4:00 p.m.—“The enemy were repulsed leaving about 60 prisoners in our hands,” and added that both sides had suffered casualties.

President Lincoln immediately wired back—“Your three dispatches received. From what direction did the enemy come that attacked Griffin? How do things look now?”8 As General Grant had pointed out, the president was the most anxious man in the country to hear from him, and he was especially anxious to hear some good news.

Grant replied that Griffin had been attacked near the intersection of the Quaker Road and the Boydton Plank Road, and also updated his earlier account. “Warren [General Gouverneur K. Warren] reports the fighting pretty severe but the enemy repulsed leaving one hundred prisoners in our hands.”⁹ Grant's main point was that the enemy had been driven back, and there was no need for any anxiety. Union forces had cut the Boydton Plank Road in two places, and were now in position to move against the Confederate right flank.

The president also sent a message to General Godfrey Weitzel, near Richmond. Lincoln telegraphed this short communiqué: “What, if any thing, have you observed on your front to-day?”¹⁰ General Weitzel replied that the most recent intelligence informed him that Fitz Hugh Lee's cavalry passed through Richmond the day before, and was seen moving toward Petersburg “at a fast gait.” He ended by saying, “as soon as I hear anything new I will telegraph you.”

This was the most up-to-date information available, but it is doubtful that it helped to put the president at ease. He knew that a major battle was about to begin, probably the last significant battle of the war, and Lincoln would not be able to relax until it was over.

The army was in position to move out as soon as the order came through from General Grant. General Weitzel waited in front of Richmond; General Sheridan was in place at Dinwiddie Court House, about twelve miles southwest of Petersburg; General Ord's position was a few miles east of Sheridan, at the intersection of Hatcher's Run and the Vaughan Road. Altogether, five infantry corps, along with Sheridan's cavalry, were standing by. Colonel Elisha Hunt Rhodes noted, “I feel that the enemy are about to leave Petersburg, and we are held in readiness to pursue them.”11

All that was needed to begin the attack was several days of dry weather. The weather had been cooperating with all the troop movements during the past several days. Julia Grant wrote that it had been a “glorious bright morning” when her husband left for Petersburg.¹² But the weather changed abruptly later in the day—clouds started forming up during the afternoon, and changed to a heavy rain that night. General Grant feared that the rain would make the roads impassable for any large-scale troop movements, especially for Sheridan's cavalry. As the rain continued into the next day, Grant could see that he would have to delay the start of his offensive against General Lee. The sudden change in the weather, along with the resulting change in plans, increased everyone's anxieties, including President Lincoln's.

While President Lincoln was aboard the River Queen, a man came on board and asked to see the president. The stranger was referred to William H. Crook, Lincoln's bodyguard. Crook did not give the exact date of the stranger's visit; he only mentioned that it took place not long before the final assault on Petersburg. The president had given instructions not to admit anyone except General Grant or Admiral Porter; Crook informed the visitor that Lincoln was busy and could not be disturbed.

When he heard what Crook had to say, the visitor became “very much excited.”¹³ He explained that he had known “Mr. Lincoln” when they were both living in Illinois, and that he had rendered “valuable services during his campaign for the presidency,” and also that he had spent large sums of money on Lincoln's behalf. Now he was in trouble, and needed to see the president; he insisted that he knew Lincoln personally. Crook asked the visitor for his name. At first, the man refused to give it, but finally said that it was Smith and that he used to live near Lincoln in Illinois.

Crook delivered Smith's message to the president, who laughed when he heard the name—“Smith is, of course, an uncommon name.” But after thinking about it for a minute, Lincoln's entire demeanor changed. “If what he says is true, I would know,” he said with a note of seriousness in his voice. “But I do not. The man is an impostor, and I won't see him.”

Mr. Smith was “very much disturbed” when he heard the president's answer. He begged Crook to take him to see the president; when that failed, he resorted to bribery. Crook ordered Smith to leave the River Queen, and threatened to have him arrested if he refused. Before he left, Smith turned and said to the River Queen's captain, “If Mr. Lincoln does not see me now, he will know me dammed soon after he does see me.” With that, “Mr. Smith” stormed down the gangplank, walked onto the shore, and disappeared.

William Crook was convinced that “Mr. Smith” was actually John Surratt, one of John Wilkes Booth's co-conspirators. “I think ‘Smith’ and Surratt were the same man,” he later recalled. Crook had lived in the same Maryland county as John Surratt, and knew what he looked like. Smith/Surratt had changed over the years—as Crook remembered him, John Surratt was pale and emaciated, while Smith “was ragged and dirty and very much sunburned”—but Crook thought the change in appearance might have been caused by a “change in circumstance,” or by the passage of time, or by a disguise. Crook had no doubts that Smith and Surratt were the same man, and that he had come on board the River Queen to kill Lincoln. Long after the war ended, he would write, “I shall always believe that Surratt was seeking an opportunity to assassinate the President at this time.” There would be other opportunities in the very near future.