The River Queen made a brief stop at Fortress Monroe, which was situated on the tip of the peninsula that separates the James River estuary from Chesapeake Bay. It was only a short stopover, made for the purpose of picking up mail and dispatches as well as a Potomac River pilot. Commander John S. Barnes also departed the River Queen for the USS Bat at Fortress Monroe; the Bat was lying close by the Queen but was not at anchor. He shook hands and said goodbye to President Lincoln before leaving the ship. “Mr. Lincoln was kind enough to thank me for the good care taken of him,” he recalled, and also took the time to crack a joke about what a comfortable life “navy men” led during wartime.1 “Probably he never again thought of me,” the commander said, “but the memory of his warm hand-clasp and kindly look remained with me and has never left me.”

Both the River Queen and the Bat left Fortress Monroe during the afternoon and began steaming northward up Chesapeake Bay toward the Potomac River. President Lincoln was in a congenial, conversational mood; his quiet and reflective frame of mind of the night before had passed. “That whole day the conversation turned on literary subjects,” the Marquis de Chambrun remembered.² “Mr. Lincoln read aloud to us for several hours.” Most of the passages he read were from Shakespeare. He read from a beautiful quarto edition of Shakespeare's works, and recited several speeches from Macbeth, one of the president's favorite plays, including the “Duncan is in his grave” speech from act 3. “The lines after the murder of Duncan, when the new king [Macbeth] falls prey to moral torment, were dramatically dwelt on.”

Duncan is in his grave;

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;

Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,

Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,

Can touch him further.3

Lincoln read the speech twice, explaining that Shakespeare gave a picture of a murderer's mind, “when the dark deed achieved, its perpetrator already envies his victim's calm sleep.”⁴

Macbeth's speech seemed to unnerve Lincoln's friend James Speed, one of the president's party, who proceeded to warn the president about growing rumors concerning threats of assassination. As the war wound down toward its finish, disgruntled Confederates were looking for a target for their frustrations. Lincoln was the most obvious target. But Lincoln was not interested in James Speed's warnings. He said that he would rather be dead than to live in constant fear. In that state of mind, it would have been more appropriate if he had read the passage from Julius Caesar where Caesar reacts to rumors of his own assassination, instead of the speech from Macbeth:

Cowards die many times before their deaths;

The valiant never taste of death but once:

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear,

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.⁵

While President Lincoln was reading to his guests, the River Queen steamed north toward the Potomac River estuary. When the ship turned west and entered the Potomac, her escort, the USS Bat, almost immediately began falling behind. The Bat's boilers had a habit of “foaming up,” in Commander Barnes words, whenever there was a change from salt water to fresh, “so that we were hard put…to keep pace with the Queen.”6 The River Queen slowed down “once or twice” to allow the Bat to catch up. But in spite of all efforts, the Bat kept dropping back, “so that the Queen arrived at her dock at Washington some hours before us.”

The president was not concerned with the fact that the Bat could not keep pace, which left the River Queen all alone in her journey up the Potomac. It had been a peaceful afternoon, with no communiques from anyone on shore and no news from the war. President Lincoln seemed to be calm and relaxed. When the River Queen passed Mount Vernon, Chambrun was moved to remark, “Mount Vernon, with its memories of Washington, and Springfield, with those of your own home—revolutionary and civil war—will be equally honored in America.”⁷ At that particular moment in time, Lincoln was not much interested in being honored and esteemed in the manner of George Washington, but his entire composure changed at the mention of his home in Springfield. “As though awakened from a trance,” Chambrun would remember, “the President exclaimed: ‘Springfield, how happy I shall be in four years hence to return there in peace and tranquility!’” He only wanted to finish his second term in the White House, put the country on the road to recovery and reconstruction after four years of civil war, and to go back to Springfield. Washington was welcome to his praise and adulation; all Lincoln required was to return home and start living a normal life again.

Chambrun also took note of two other conversations. The first was between the president and the marquis himself. Chambrun asked if the United States would become involved in the hostilities between France and Mexico, which had begun in 1862—“our Mexican expedition” is the way the Marquis phrased it—after the Confederate armies surrendered. The president's answer was straightforward and to the point. “We have had enough war,” he said. “I know what the American people want and, thank God, I count for something in this country.”8 He concluded his short remark with, “Rest assured that during my second term there will be no more fighting.”

The second exchange involved Mary Lincoln. As the River Queen steamed closer to Washington and the city's buildings and landmarks came into view, Mrs. Lincoln looked out at the town and said, “That city is full of enemies.” The president was somewhat taken aback by his wife's remarks—she had not said very much up to that point—and answered sharply. “Enemies, never again must we repeat that word.”⁹ Mary Lincoln was not just referring to Lincoln's political adversaries. She had heard the assassination rumors along with everybody else and was frightened to think that some Confederate sympathizer might be waiting in one of the buildings she could see from the River Queen's deck. The president brushed the remark aside.

The River Queen docked at Washington at around 6:00 p.m. By the time Commander Barnes had arrived in the capital aboard the USS Bat, the president had already been driven off into the city. Before he went ashore, President Lincoln said his goodbyes to Captain Penrose, shaking his hand and thanking him “for the manner in which he had performed his duty.”¹⁰ The president shared the carriage with his wife, his son Tad, and, by the bodyguard's own account, with William H. Crook.

As soon as the carriage left the wharf and began traveling through the streets, it became obvious that some sort of celebration was taking place. “The streets were alive with people, all very much excited,” William Crook wrote. “There were bonfires everywhere.”¹¹ Tad became so agitated by all the noise and activity that he could not sit still. Everyone in the vehicle had been aboard the River Queen all day. Nobody had heard any news, and they did not know what was happening. The driver stopped the carriage and asked a passerby about the cause of all the excitement. The man hesitated for a moment, and looked at the occupants in absolute astonishment. “Why, where have you been?” he asked in amazement, not recognizing President Lincoln. “Lee has surrendered.”

General Grant had also been surprised by General Lee's surrender. After he had read Lee's most recent communiqué during the previous night, Grant was convinced that the Confederates meant to continue fighting. On the morning of April 9, he sent this reply:

Headquarters Armies of the U.S.

April 9, 1865

General R. E. Lee

Commanding C.S.A.

Your note of yesterday is received. As I have no authority to treat on the subject of peace, the meeting proposed for ten A.M. today could lead to no good. I will state, however, General, that I am equally anxious for peace with yourself, and the whole North entertains the same feeling. The terms upon which peace can be had are well understood. By the South laying down their arms they will hasten that most desirable event, save thousands of human lives, and hundreds of millions of property not yet destroyed. Seriously hoping that all our difficulties may be settled without the loss of another life. I subscribe myself, etc.

U. S. Grant,

Lieutenant General12

After sending his note to General Lee by courier, General Grant and several of his staff officers, including Colonel Horace Porter, rode off to meet with General Philip Sheridan. General Grant still had his migraine; it had been suggested to him that he ride on a covered ambulance instead of traveling by horseback, which might help to lessen the effects of his headache. But Grant elected to ride his big horse, Cincinnati, and rode off toward the village of Appomattox Court House. General Sheridan was up ahead, ready to throw his cavalry and infantry at the enemy. Grant wanted to join him at the front.

The general had not ridden very far when he and his party were overtaken by an officer from General Meade's staff. The officer handed General Grant a note from General Lee:

April 9, 1865

General: I received your note of this morning on the picket line, whither I had come to meet you and ascertain definitely what terms were embraced in your proposal of yesterday with reference to the surrender of this army. I now request an interview in accordance with the offer contained in your letter of yesterday for that purpose.

R. E. Lee, General13

“When the officer reached me I was still suffering from the sick headache,” Grant would later write, “but the instant I saw the contents of the note I was cured.”¹⁴ He immediately wrote a reply:

Headquarters Army of the U.S.

April 9, 1865

General R. E. Lee

Commanding C.S.A.

Your note of this date is but this moment (11:30 A.M.) received, in consequence of my having passed from the Richmond and Lynchburg roads to the Farmville and Lynchburg road. I am writing this about four miles west of Walker's Church, and will push forward to the front for the purpose of meeting you. Notice sent to me on this road where you wish the interview to take place will meet me.

U. S. Grant

Lieutenant General15

General Grant met General Sheridan on the road approaching Appomattox Court House. After the usual salutes and greetings were exchanged, General Grant gestured toward the village and asked, “Is General Lee up there?” General Sheridan said yes; General Grant replied, “Very well. Let's go up.”¹⁶ They rode up to the substantial house of Wilmer McLean, where General Lee was waiting for them.

General Sheridan's men were in position to advance and did not know anything about any meeting between Lee and Grant. General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain was about to order his troops to begin moving forward when a Confederate officer rode out from his lines with a white flag. The officer approached General Chamberlain and mentioned “a cessation of hostilities.”¹⁷ General Chamberlain sent him to the rear, explaining that he did not have the authority to negotiate surrender terms.

Shortly after this meeting, General Chamberlain received orders to cease firing and to halt, to stop his men from advancing any further. “There was not much firing to cease from,” he remembered, “but to ‘halt,’ then and there?”¹⁸ The men had been trained to keep moving forward, and had been advancing ever since they crossed the Rapidan River eleven months earlier—“forward to the end; forward to the new beginning; forward to the nation's second birth,” General Chamberlain said.

But the word went out, “Halt! The rebels want to surrender,” and the men halted where they were.¹⁹ A general rode up and asked General Chamberlain why no one was moving up toward the enemy. “Only that Lee wants time to surrender,” General Chamberlain answered with “stage solemnity.” With that, the old general's entire demeanor changed. “Glory to God!” he shouted, and shook Chamberlain's hand “with an impetuosity that nearly unhorsed us both.”

General Lee and General Grant signed the surrender terms later that afternoon. General Grant reported the surrender to the War Department in Washington at 4:30, after General Lee had ridden back to join his own army.

Honorable E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War, Washington

General Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia this afternoon on terms proposed by myself. The accompanying additional correspondence will show the conditions fully.

U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General20

It did not take very long for the news to spread and circulate. Staff officers began riding through the Union lines shouting “Lee surrendered!” General Chamberlain remembered that his men “rent the air with shouting and uproar” when they heard about the surrender.²¹ Colonel Elisha Hunt Rhodes, who was with his unit outside Appomattox Court House, learned about Lee's surrender when he heard “loud cheering from the front.”²² A short time afterward, General George Gordon Meade “rode like mad down the road with his hat off, shouting, ‘The war is over, and we are going home!’”

General Grant's wife, Julia, along with the wife of another officer and a half-dozen army and navy officers, were sitting “in the cabin of our boat” during the afternoon when a headquarters attaché entered the cabin.²³ As Mrs. Grant remembered the scene, the attaché was very agitated. He held a sheet of paper in his hand, and said, “Mrs. Grant, Madam, may I speak with you for a moment?” She followed the attaché into another stateroom and asked, “What news?”

“Glad news, but you must not tell on me,” he said. “It would cost me my head if old Stanton knew I had brought the news to you.”24 He then proceeded to read everything that had been telegraphed to Washington regarding the surrender of General Lee to her husband, including the very generous terms of surrender.

“Now, Madam, forgive me if I have done wrong,” he went on, “but I felt you must know as soon as anyone else, including the president. So I brought you the news.”²⁵

When Mrs. Grant returned to her guests, everyone did their best to coax the attaché's news out of her. She refused to say anything, but it did not really matter. About twenty minutes later, “a shout went up along the bluffs, and cries of ‘The Union Forever, Hurrah, Boys! Hurrah!’ then told them the glad tidings.”²⁶

After returning from City Point, the president's first stop in Washington was not the war office, but the house of Secretary of State William Seward. Secretary Seward was still in great pain from the injuries he had received from his accident, and was hardly able to speak. His daughter Fanny recalled that the president had already arrived when she came into her father's room. Frederick Seward, the secretary's son, was also present. “When I went into the room he was lying on the foot of father's bed, talking with him,” she wrote.²⁷ It was a friendly visit—“kind, genial, and unaffected.” The president was doing his best to lift the spirits of his secretary of state, who had also become his friend.

Lincoln told Seward all about his visit to Richmond, as well as his stopover at the Depot Field Hospital. There were seven thousand men in the wards, he explained, and he shook hands with every one of them. “He spoke of having worked as hard at it as sawing wood,” Fanny said, “and seemed, in his goodness of heart, much satisfied at the labor.”²⁸

General Lee had surrendered his army, but the war was not quite over yet. General Joseph Johnston's army was still in the field in North Carolina, and other Confederate units were operating in other parts of the South. But Robert E. Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia were the Confederacy to many Southerners. As Winston S. Churchill somewhat romantically phrased it, General Lee and his army “carried the rebellion on its bayonets.”29 Now he had submitted to General Grant, and any hope of Confederate survival disappeared with his army. “With this surrender perishes the last hope of the rebels and their sympathizers, who have pinned their hopes upon Lee,” an article in Washington's Evening Star stated.³⁰ “When Lee, the wisest and bravest of the confederate leaders, sees no ray of hope for the confederate cause, and voluntarily lays down his arms to prevent further and futile effusion of blood, the most credulous optimist among his followers must accept his judgement as decisive.”

A British historian observed that Robert E. Lee never understood U. S. Grant, or Grant's basic strategy: “Lee never fathomed Grant.”³¹ He might have made the same observation regarding Lee and Abraham Lincoln. President Lincoln was just as determined as General Grant to see the war through to its final conclusion, until the Confederate armies had surrendered and all the seceded states had rejoined the Union. He also did everything possible to further the Union cause at the expense of the Confederacy. In September 1862, the president issued a proclamation that suspended habeas corpus. Under this proclamation, President Lincoln had 13,000 people jailed on the vague charge of “disloyalty.” Most of these were Peace Democrats, who were extremely vocal in their support of the Confederacy and their opposition of the war—their point of view was that the war should be ended immediately, the separated Southern states should be granted their independence, and that the Confederate States should be allowed to keep their slaves.

The proclamation might not have been the most ethical course of action, but it kept thousands of Confederate sympathizers from giving the enemy whatever assistance they might be able to render, from moral support to information regarding troop movements. A Confederate supporter in a Federal prison was just as effectively taken out of the war as a Confederate soldier in a Union prisoner of war camp. Lincoln was prepared to bend the law, break the law, or create his own set of laws in order to put down the rebellion in the South.

General Lee did not understand what impact President Lincoln was having on the Union war effort, and had not even paid very much attention to Lincoln at all. Most of the South tended either to ignore Lincoln entirely or to ridicule him. The Southern press frequently referred to him as a gorilla or a baboon. (Many Northern newspapers were just as outspoken and insulting in their opinion of Lincoln.) But this tendency was a mistake. Lincoln's determination was as responsible for winning the war as Grant's. President Lincoln never lost faith in the Union's ability to win the war. That faith became infused in General Grant, and was as responsible for Appomattox as anything that Grant accomplished.

The terms that General Grant proposed to General Lee at Appomattox were simple and generous, in keeping with the terms that President Lincoln had outlined at City Point: all Confederate officers and men would be allowed to return home, and were not to be disturbed by any United States authorities; officers would be allowed to keep their side arms, horses, and personal property; the men in the ranks who claimed to own a horse or mule would be allowed to take the animal home. There would be no imprisonment for any of General Lee's men. This point of view was at least partially inspired by President Lincoln—Grant had shown consideration toward Confederate prisoners during his campaign against General Lee's army—and certainly followed Lincoln's tendency toward leniency for the South.