President Lincoln was up early, and received the news that General Grant had guessed correctly—Petersburg had been evacuated during the night. General Parke had gone through the inner defenses at 4:00 a.m., and the city had surrendered at 4:38. In a communique that was typical of him, straightforward and to the point, Grant had immediately telegraphed the news to Colonel Theodore S. Bowers: “Petersburg was evacuated last night. Pursuit will be immediately made.”1

The general sent another telegram to Colonel Bowers a short while afterward. This message was mainly concerned with President Lincoln's impending visit. “Say to the President that an officer and escort will attend him, but as to myself I start toward the Danville Road with the army.” His explanation was, “I want to cut off as much of Lee's army as possible.”² But Grant would change his mind and would decide to stay in Petersburg and wait for the president to arrive.

Lincoln wired Secretary of War Stanton at 8:00 a.m. to relay the good news regarding Petersburg, as well as to inform Stanton of his own plans. “This morning Gen. Grant reports Petersburg evacuated; and he is confident Richmond also is. He is pushing forward to cut off, if possible, the retreating army.” He ended the message with, “I start to him in a few minutes.”³

Secretary Stanton was very much taken by surprise to hear that President Lincoln would be joining Grant later that day. He congratulated the president on the “glorious news” regarding Petersburg, but also “respectfully” asked Lincoln to consider “whether you ought to expose the nation to the consequence of any disaster to yourself in the pursuit of a treacherous and dangerous enemy like the rebel army.”4 He reminded the president that “Commanding generals are in the line of their duty in running such risks. But is the political head of a nation in the same condition?”

President Lincoln did not pay any attention to Secretary Stanton's advice—he certainly did not think that he would get himself assassinated by visiting General Grant, which he had done before—and boarded a special train for Patrick Station, which was about a mile from Petersburg. Admiral David Dixon Porter, Tad Lincoln, and Commander John S. Barnes accompanied the president. Admiral Porter borrowed a horse from a cavalryman and rode from the rail station to Petersburg, while Lincoln and Tad rode by ambulance into the city.

Commander Barnes decided to walk the distance; as he approached the city on foot, he was greatly impressed by the trenches and barricades that had defended its approaches during the siege. He had heard about them, but this was the first time he had the chance to inspect them. The defenses were made up of a “labyrinth” of trenches, breastworks, rifle pits, and earthworks that went on for miles. “They were very elaborate with zigzag approaches and connections dug deep into the ground.”⁵ He wondered how anyone was able to capture such a line of elaborate and well-built fortifications.

When Commander Barnes finally made his way through the battlements and reached Petersburg itself, he discovered that the president, along with Tad and Admiral Porter, would soon be returning to the train. Because he was on foot, Commander Barnes decided to start back to the rail station right away. On his way out of the city, he picked up a “trophy bag” of tobacco. These bags were lying about on the street, and were being confiscated by every soldier who happened to pass by.⁶

General Grant had been in Petersburg since morning, and set up a temporary headquarters at the home of Thomas Wallace at 21 Market Street. “Many of the citizens, panic-stricken, had escaped with the army.”7 Most of the white residents who decided to remain stayed indoors. A “few groups of negroes gave cheers,” but the general atmosphere throughout the city “was one of complete desertion.”

The president arrived at the Thomas Wallace house “soon after” General Grant, according to Colonel Horace Porter, accompanied by his son Robert, who had met his father at the railway station, along with Tad and Admiral Porter. He climbed out of the ambulance “and came in through the front gate with long and rapid strides, his face beaming with delight.”⁸ As General Grant stepped forward to meet the president, Lincoln took the general's hand and shook it with warmth and emotion. “I doubt whether Mr. Lincoln ever experienced a happier moment in his life.”

After offering his “warm congratulations” for the victory, the president said, “Do you know, general, that I have had a sort of sneaking idea for some days that you intended to do something like this.”⁹ Colonel Porter remembered that the president added, “but I thought some time ago that you would so maneuver as to have Sherman come up and be near enough to cooperate with you.”¹⁰ In his memoirs, General Grant explains that he had political motives for not bringing Sherman north. If the “Western armies” operated against Richmond and Lee along with armies from the East, the situation “might lead to disagreeable bickerings between members of Congress of the East and those of the West in some of their debates.”¹¹ Lincoln responded that he never thought of that. He was so anxious about the end of the war, and how soon it could be brought about, “that he did not care where the aid came from so the work was done.”

President Lincoln and General Grant continued their conversation for about an hour and a half. Besides General Sherman and his Western army, they also talked about “civil complications” that might cause problems with reconciling the former Confederate states into the Union after the war ended, as well as showing leniency toward them. Showing tolerance and clemency toward the South was a vitally important issue for the president, which he made very clear. “He intimated very plainly,” Colonel Porter remembered, “that thoughts of leniency to the conquered were uppermost in his heart.”12

General Grant shared the president's point of view regarding compassion and moderation toward the defeated enemy. When he entered Petersburg that morning, he could see that the ground in front of him was “packed with the Confederate army.” But he did not order artillery to be brought up. “At all events, I had not the heart to turn the artillery upon such a mass of defeated and fleeing men,” he reflected, “and I hoped to capture them soon.”¹³ A year earlier, in the spring of 1864, Grant would have lost no time in ordering his gunners to bring every available piece of artillery to bear on the enemy troops. But now Lee and his army were in full retreat, the end of the war was only a matter of weeks away, and President Lincoln had convinced him that leniency would be the best policy toward the fading Confederate army. Grant had battered his opponent for the past eleven months, from the Wilderness to Five Forks, and realized that it was now time to stop fighting and to begin looking forward toward peace and reconciliation.

While President Lincoln and General Grant were busy conferring and making plans for the future, young Tad Lincoln had a more immediate concern. General George H. Sharpe, another member of General Grant's staff, noticed that Tad was looking increasingly anxious and uncomfortable as the afternoon went by and guessed what was wrong—the boy had not had any lunch and was hungry. General Sharpe addressed the situation immediately and ordered some sandwiches to be sent up, which Tad devoured. Both the president and General Grant thought the scene was amusing and touching—a top-level conference between Lincoln and his general-in-chief had been brought to a stop because of lunch for an eleven-year-old boy.

When the conversation between the two men finally came to an end, General Grant excused himself. He had to ride to the front, he explained, and join General Ord's column before the army advanced too far. The president once again shook General Grant's hand and, “with great warmth of feeling,” wished him every success.14 The president clearly did not want to detain his general-in-chief. Within only a few minutes after saying goodbye to the president, Grant and his officers were well on their way toward the front.

General Grant and his staff had only ridden about nine miles, as far as Sutherland's Station, when they were overtaken by a dispatch rider from General Godfrey Weitzel. The message was not as direct and to the point as one General Grant would have written, but it certainly conveyed the same meaning: “We took Richmond at 8:15 this morning. I captured many guns. The enemy left in great haste. The city is on fire in two places. Am making every effort to put it out. The people received us with enthusiastic expressions of joy.”¹⁵

General Grant read General Weitzel's message without showing any emotion at all. His only reaction was regret that the news had not arrived before President Lincoln left Petersburg. After reading what Weitzel had to say, General Grant ordered that “the news be circulated among the troops as rapidly as possible.”¹⁶

The news certainly did circulate. When he received the report that Petersburg had been evacuated, Colonel Elisha Hunt Rhodes wrote, “Great is the rejoicing.”¹⁷ But when he learned that Richmond was occupied by Federal troops, and that the city was “in flames,” he was not all that enthusiastic about it. “Well, let it burn, we do not want it,” he said. “We are after Lee and are going to have him.”

President Lincoln did not agree with Colonel Rhodes or with his point of view. Lincoln wanted to see Richmond. As he would explain to Admiral Porter, Richmond was not only the capital of the Confederacy, it was also the capital of the rebellion, and he very much wanted it and also planned to visit the city. He was well aware that Lee's army was General Grant's primary goal, and that the war would not be over until Lee surrendered. But he also realized that if Richmond fell the surrender of Lee's army and the end of the war would only be a matter of weeks, or possibly days.

In Washington, the news of Petersburg and Richmond triggered a celebration that all but shut down the city. “Intelligence of the evacuation of Petersburg and the capture of Richmond was received this A.M., and the city has been in an uproar through the day,” Gideon Welles wrote in his diary.18 “Most of the clerks and others left the Departments, and there were immense gatherings in the streets,” he went on. “Flags were flying from every house and store that had them…and Washington appeared patriotic beyond anything ever witnessed.”

Washington was not the only city that celebrated. Residents of New York and every other city throughout the North broke out all their flags and shouted and carried on like overexcited schoolboys all day long. The New York Times ran headlines that reflected the national mood: “Grant, Richmond, and Victory! The Union Army in the Rebel Capital.”¹⁹ The front page of the Chicago Tribune announced, “Richmond Is Ours. The Old Flag Floats over the Rebel Capital.”²⁰

One person who did not seem very excited by the day's triumphs and achievements was Lincoln's bodyguard, William H. Crook. He was more shaken and upset than excited. The sight of the dead on the field outside Petersburg dampened any enthusiasm he might have had for the day's fighting. One of the soldiers he saw had a bullet through his forehead; another had both arms blown off. When he finally arrived in the city, Crook was taken to see General Grant.

He found the general sitting on the piazza of a white frame house, and once again received a disappointment. Crook did not seem very impressed by what he saw, either by the setting for the scheduled meeting between the president and his general-in-chief or by General Grant himself. From his account, Crook did not seem to think that “a white frame house” was either suitable or adequate for such an important conference, and he was totally unimpressed by General Grant. “Grant did not look like one's idea of a conquering hero,” he commented.21 Short, stubby, and round-shouldered, wearing the uniform of a private with the three stars of a lieutenant general sewn on, Ulysses S. Grant was not very imposing, and did not try to be. “He didn't appear exultant, and he was as quiet as he ever had been.” General Grant was just too plain and unassuming to satisfy William Crook's idea of what a commanding general should look like.

Although he did not attend the meeting between the president and General Grant, Crook thought that Lincoln's attitude toward Grant before the meeting began was “almost affectionate.”²² While the two were having their conference, Crook decided to use the time to “stroll through Petersburg,” and to see what was left of it. The city was almost deserted, but he did have the chance to talk with a few of its residents. “They said they were glad the Union army had taken possession; they were half starved,” he later recounted. “They certainly looked so.”

Like Commander Barnes, Crook managed to acquire some tobacco before he left the city, only he had to pay for his—a five-pound bale for twenty five cents. “The tobacco warehouses were on fire,” he explained, “and boys were carrying away tobacco to sell to the soldiers.”²³ During the course of his stroll, William Crook saw all there was to see in Petersburg—a desolate, nearly deserted ruin of a city, ravaged by looters.

President Lincoln and his party took the train back to City Point after his meeting with General Grant. Almost as soon as everyone arrived, they heard about the evacuation of Richmond for the first time—City Point was celebrating the event just as enthusiastically as everyone else throughout the North. About the only people in town who had not heard the news about Richmond were a long line of Confederate prisoners near the City Point dock. These prisoners were boarding transports that would take them to prison camps in the North. At least one of them told the guards that every Yankee would be dead before they could get anywhere near Richmond. Nobody bothered to tell them the truth.

President Lincoln watched the prisoners as they waited their turn to board the ships, and was depressed by the sight. The men “were in a pitiable condition, ragged and thin; they looked half starved,” William Crook wrote.24 When the men took their rations out of their knapsacks to have lunch, everyone could see that their meal consisted of nothing but bread “which looked as if it had been mixed with tar.” When they cut into it, “we could see how hard and heavy it was; it was more like cheese than bread.” “‘Poor fellows!’ Mr. Lincoln said. ‘It's a hard lot. Poor fellows.’” Crook could see that the president's face “was pitying and sorrowful. All the happiness had gone.”

At City Point, the president had moved his quarters from the relative luxury of the River Queen to much more Spartan lodgings aboard Admiral Porter's flagship USS Malvern. Admiral Porter offered his own stateroom to Lincoln, but the president “positively declined” the suggestion.²⁵ Instead, he elected to sleep in a six-foot-long by four-and-a-half-foot-wide cabin. The cabin was usually occupied by the admiral's secretary.

While the president was asleep during his first night on board the Malvern, Admiral Porter ordered Lincoln's boots to be cleaned and his socks mended—the socks had holes in them. At breakfast, Lincoln announced to the admiral that a miracle had happened to him during the night. “When I went to bed I had two large holes in my socks,” he explained, “and this morning there are no holes.”²⁶ When the admiral inquired if the president had slept well, Lincoln replied that he had a good night's sleep, “but you can't put a long blade in a short scabbard. I was too long for the berth.” He was also four inches too long for the cabin.

During the day, the admiral put all the ship's carpenters to work remodeling the president's cabin. By the end of the day, the cabin had been lengthened, widened, and completely refashioned. In the morning, Lincoln announced that a second miracle had taken place, “a greater miracle than ever happened last night; I shrank six inches in length and about a foot sideways.”27 The president was clearly enjoying himself. The time he was spending aboard the Malvern was helping to take his mind off the war.

But nothing could make him forget the war completely. The fires of Richmond were plainly visible from Admiral Porter's flagship. A rearguard of South Carolina troops had set fire to anything and everything that might be of use to the enemy—Federal troops would soon be occupying the city, everyone could see that. Tobacco warehouses were set alight, along with munitions works. A strong south wind helped to spread the flames, setting fire to the flour mills along the river. The wind destroyed just about everything the South Carolinians missed. Richmond, or at least a sizeable part of it, was burning to the ground.

All that evening, the evening after President Lincoln had visited Petersburg, “A lurid glare lit up the sky in the direction of Richmond,” Commander John S. Barnes remembered.²⁸ “Heavy detonations followed each other in rapid succession, which Admiral Porter rightly interpreted as the blowing up of rebel ironclads.” President Lincoln could see the fires and hear the explosions, as well. Commander Barnes noted that “Mr. Lincoln then made up his mind he would go to Richmond the next day.”

While on board the Malvern, President Lincoln also discussed his views on the war, and what he hoped would happen after the war, with Admiral Porter. From the general tone of the conversation, the admiral recognized that Lincoln was determined to have the most generous and lenient terms for the Confederacy following the surrender. “Get them to plowing once,” he said, in his own singular manner of speaking, “and gathering in their own little crops, eating pop-corn at their own firesides, and you can't get them to shoulder a musket again for half a century.”29 If the South was treated fairly and without malice, the president reasoned, another rebellion might be averted at some future point in time.

When he returned to City Point, the president read Secretary of War Stanton's telegram of earlier in the day. From the attitude of his reply, Lincoln probably had a good chuckle over Stanton's warning not to “expose the nation” and himself to possible assassination. “Thanks for your caution,” he responded at five o'clock in the afternoon, “but I have already been to Petersburg, staid [sic] with Gen. Grant an hour & a half and returned here.”³⁰

Having said that, the president went on to make an admonition of his own. “It is certain now that Richmond is in our hands, and I think I will go there to-morrow. I will take care of myself.”³¹ In other words, if he was not afraid of going to Petersburg after the Confederates abandoned the city, then he was certainly not going to turn down the opportunity of going to the Confederate capital. He was determined to see Richmond and did not care if Secretary Stanton or anybody else objected.