What of Atzerodt’s remarks about the “New York crowd” and a plot to “mine” the wing of the Executive Mansion closest to the War Department? Atzerodt’s statement suggests that a plan was in the offing to “blow up” the president by placing explosives in a part of the White House at a time when the president would be meeting with his cabinet. In a single moment, a proper demolition would kill the president and members of his cabinet. Atzerodt alluded to Booth’s concern when he told McPhail and Smith that “Booth said if he did not get him quick the New York crowd would.”24 Such a statement suggests that Booth apparently thought he might be upstaged and lose out in his attempt to get Lincoln himself. Could such a plan to blow up the White House have any credibility? It could, and it was real.25
Any plot to plant explosives in the White House would require considerable skills in both ordnance and access to the White House. Such a plan centered on Thomas Harney, who was employed in the Confederate Torpedo Bureau in Richmond in March 1865.26 The Torpedo Bureau was under the command of Brigadier General Gabriel Rains and was involved in the development and deployment of a variety of explosive devices for use on land and in water. Rains had used such devices as early as May 1862 at Yorktown and to a devastating effect at City Point in August of 1864.27 It is also clear that units from the Confederate Secret Service were directed by Rains out of the Torpedo Bureau. One of these units involved John Maxwell and R.K. Dillard, who served in Captain Zedekiah McDaniel’s company in the Secret Service.28 Maxwell and Dillard were responsible for placing a “horological torpedo” (time bomb) on a Union supply barge at City Point that destroyed a major part of Grant’s supply base on August 9, 1864. The resultant explosion was devastating, killing 54 people and wounding 126.29 According to Rains, the two men operated under his authority.30 It was from this bureau that Thomas Harney set out on a mission that had all the earmarks of a plan to blow up the White House.
Shortly before the evacuation of Richmond on April 2, Harney left the Torpedo Bureau with a cache of special ordnance and joined Mosby and his rangers who were still active in Fauquier County, Virginia. Mosby was the man to safely slip Harney and his experts into Washington so they could carry out their plan. Among the rangers assigned to escort Harney were several Marylanders who had come over to join Mosby’s command. They had traveled the area on numerous occasions and were familiar with the routes into and out of the region. Harney was able to join Mosby but never made it to Washington. Arriving at Burke Station in Fairfax County, Harney, along with 150 of Mosby’s men, ran into a Union cavalry regiment. In the ensuing skirmish Harney and three other men were captured and taken to Old Capitol Prison in Washington.31
Speculation that Harney was on a mission to fulfill the plot Atzerodt referred to in his confession is gleaned from a seemingly unrelated event that occurred in Richmond on April 4. When that city was evacuated on April 2, Colonel Edward Hastings Ripley, commanding the Ninth Vermont Infantry, set up his headquarters not far from the Torpedo Bureau. Ripley and his men were the first Federal troops to occupy the evacuated city. On April 4, Ripley granted an interview with a Confederate enlisted man who worked at the Torpedo Bureau by the name of William H. Snyder. Snyder had sought an interview with Ripley to alert him and his superiors to a plan that troubled Snyder. In his postwar memoir, Ripley described his meeting with Snyder: “He [Snyder] knew that a party had just been dispatched from Raine’s [General Gabriel Rains’s]32 torpedo bureau on a secret mission, which vaguely he understood was aimed at the head of the Yankee government, and he wished to put Mr. Lincoln on his guard and have impressed upon him that just at this moment he believed him to be in great danger of violence and he should take better care of himself. He could give no names or facts, as the work of his department was secret, and no man knew what his comrade was sent to do, that the President of the United States was in great danger.”33
Is it possible that Snyder was referring to Harney and his expedition to Mosby? While Harney’s mission may have been directed at other targets, Snyder’s revelation and the timing of a plot against Lincoln emanating from the Torpedo Bureau in Richmond is remarkably coincidental. The two plans fit neatly together.
While Harney’s plot may have been what Atzerodt alluded to in his statement to McPhail, there is no way to link Harney with the “N. York crowd.” While news of the skirmish appeared in the Washington Daily Morning Chronicle on April 11, Harney’s capture and imprisonment in the Old Capitol Prison was not mentioned.34 Still, Booth could have found out about the failure of Harney’s operation through any number of sources in the city. The fall of Richmond and Lee’s surrender may well have caused Booth to conclude that capturing Lincoln no longer had a strategic purpose.
On the evening of April 11, one day after Harney’s capture, a crowd of several hundred jubilant citizens assembled on the lawn of the White House to hear the president deliver an address. He promised a similar gathering the night before that he would comment on the great events now unfolding. The president stood on a small balcony and looked down upon the smiling faces below. There was an air of celebration and revelry among the throng as they pressed forward to hear the promised words of their president. Elizabeth Keckley, Mary Lincoln’s seamstress and close personal friend, watched from inside a room on the second floor. She would remember the scene vividly, describing it three years later in her little book: “I looked out, and never saw such a mass of heads before.... Close to the house the faces were plainly discernible, but they faded into more ghostly outlines on the outskirts of the assembly; and what added to the weird, spectral beauty of the scene, was the confused hum of voices that rose above the sea of forms.... It was a grand and imposing scheme.”35
The president explained his program of accepting the rebellious states back into the Union. First and foremost was Louisiana, deeply Southern, mostly Black, tightly bound to the commerce of the nation. A minority of residents who swore allegiance to the United States had adopted a new state government and constitution. The question under debate was whether or not this new government should be taken back into the Union or rejected in favor of a government dictated and controlled by others, mostly from outside her borders. Some wanted more from the new government while others wanted less.
The question of slavery in Louisiana had been answered by the new state constitution. It was abolished. But it stopped there. What would be next for the newly freed slave? Lincoln did not evade the issue: “It is unsatisfactory to some that the elective franchise is not given to the colored man. I would myself prefer that it were now conferred on the very intelligent, and on those who served our cause as soldiers.... Concede that the new government of Louisiana is only to what it should be as the egg is to the fowl; we shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it.”36
Standing on the White House lawn listening to the president’s words were John Wilkes Booth and Lewis Powell. It was all Booth could do to contain his rage. Hearing Lincoln speak of enfranchising Blacks, Booth turned to his companion and hissed, “That means nigger citizenship. Now, by God, I will put him through. That will be the last speech he will ever make.”37
CHAPTER EIGHT
A Day of Jubilation
He was almost boyish in his mirth. ... The Friday, I never saw him so supremely cheerful—his manner was even playful.
Mary Todd Lincoln
William T. Howell had waited nearly five weeks for his official appointment as Indian agent for Michigan. Lincoln appointed Howell on March 10, and he was confirmed by the Senate one day later. It was now April 14, and the appointment languished somewhere in the president’s office. Lincoln sat down at his desk and penned a message to his commissioner of Indian affairs, William P. Dole: “Please do not send off the Commission of W.T. Howell, as Indian agent in Michigan, until the return of Mr. Harlan, and hearing from me again. Yours truly, A. Lincoln.”1
Lincoln decided to delay Howell’s appointment out of deference to his new secretary of the interior, James Harlan. Harlan had
been nominated and confirmed as the new secretary on March 9, the day before Lincoln signed Howell’s commission, and Lincoln wanted to give Harlan the opportunity to approve the appointment. It was little things like this that earned the president the respect of his cabinet members. Two weeks later, following Lincoln’s death, Harlan withdrew the appointment and substituted Richard M. Smith for the position in his stead.2 Had Howell’s appointment gone through, his loyalty would be to a dead president. Smith, on the other hand, would now be indebted to Harlan.
Despite such mundane business there was a feeling of excitement everywhere, especially in the White House. April 14 was a day of jubilation. Lee’s once powerful army was disbanded and the man who had brought about its demise was in town to visit with the president and attend a cabinet meeting for the first time. Ulysses S. Grant was the man of the hour, and a jubilant Lincoln wanted to show him off. Grant had not been popular with everyone at the time of his appointment as general of the armies. Lincoln thought differently. This general was different from all of the other generals rolled into one—he was a fighter. Under pressure from certain politicians to remove Grant, Lincoln tersely replied, “I can’t spare this man. He fights!” On another occasion he mused, “He has the grit of a bulldog! Once let him get his teeth in, and nothing can shake him off.”3 Lincoln had been beset by a succession of generals who lacked the necessary combative spirit to carry the attack. McClellan, Lincoln once said, “had the slows.” Grant was different. He was just what Lincoln had needed.
When Grant took command of the Union army he assumed responsibility for a battlefront reaching from the Atlantic coastline to the Rio Grande in Texas. His army consisted of twenty-one army corps of nearly 750,000 men operating in eighteen departments. It required administrative skills beyond any ever required before. The political landscape was covered with land mines that waited for the new commander’s unsuspecting foot. Whatever Grant’s shortcomings may have been, reluctance to fight was not one of them.
Also on Lincoln’s desk this morning was a letter from James H. Van Alen.4 According to Lincoln’s secretaries, John G. Nicolay and John Hay, Van Alen had written to Lincoln urging him to “guard his life” and “not expose it to assassination as he had by going to Richmond.”5 Lincoln replied in a letter dated April 14, “My dear Sir: I intend to adopt the advice of my friends and use due precaution.”6 But as Lincoln knew, no amount of precaution could stop a determined killer. Putting Van Alen’s letter aside, Lincoln could not help but smile, for today was a happy day, a day of revelry. His oldest son, Robert, was home on leave and would join the family for breakfast.
Lincoln, although a spare eater, was looking forward to breakfast this particular Good Friday. Robert had returned only the evening before from Grant’s headquarters where he served as assistant adjutant general of volunteers. On graduating from Harvard University, Robert was intent on joining the Union army along with many of his fellow graduates. Mary Lincoln, when she heard of Robert’s intentions, objected strenuously and appealed to her husband to persuade Robert not to volunteer. She could not bear another loss. Lincoln, caught between his son and his wife, compromised. He wrote a letter to Grant requesting his help. The most powerful man in the country was asking the second most powerful man for a favor. It was typical Lincoln: “Please read this letter as though I were not President, but only a friend. My son, now in his twenty-second year, having graduated from Harvard, wishes to see something of the war before it ends. I do not wish to put him in the ranks, nor yet to give him a commission, to which those who have already served long, are better entitled, and better qualified to hold. Could he, without embarrassment to you, or detriment to the service, go into your military family with some nominal rank, and I not the public, furnishing his necessary means? If no, say so without the least hesitation, because I am as anxious, and as deeply interested, that you shall not be encumbered as you can be yourself. Yours truly, A. Lincoln”7
Two days later Grant wrote back to Lincoln: “I will be most happy to have him in my military family in the manner you propose.”8 Grant appointed Robert to the rank of captain in keeping with others on his staff. Robert served from February 11, 1865, until June 10, 1865, a total of four months. Although Lincoln volunteered to pay Robert’s salary and expenses, he was spared the expense of his son’s “necessary means.” Grant saw to it that Robert was placed on the army’s payroll.
Although he served only four months, Robert had the privilege of being present at Appomattox with the rest of Grant’s staff when Lee surrendered his Army of Northern Virginia. In conversation later that day with Speaker of the House Schuyler Colfax, Lincoln said: “Bob has just returned home and breakfasted with us. He was at the surrender of Lee, and told me that some of the rebel officers told him they were very glad the contest was over at last.”9
Technically, of course, the war was not over. In fact, there were still nearly 175,000 Confederate soldiers scattered throughout the South who had not yet surrendered. The largest contingent was under the command of Joseph E. Johnston in North Carolina. Johnston’s forces numbered 89,000 strong, although it was only on paper. A second major force of 50,000 men was located in the Trans-Mississippi region under Major General Kirby Smith. After Lee’s surrender and with the government on the run, the remaining Confederate forces still at large were helpless to offer any serious continued resistance. Although they would remain in the field for a few more weeks, rational people knew the end had come.
But not everyone was rational. Jefferson Davis was now in Greensboro, North Carolina, where he had been forced to flee after the fall of Richmond. Operating out of a boxcar, Davis felt the war was not lost. There was still hope. He summoned General Joe Johnston to a war council, where he told Johnston he would call for raising new troops, rounding up deserters, calling in stragglers, refilling the depleted ranks. Battles could still be fought. There was fight left in the Confederacy. If Kirby Smith and Johnston could link-up, an impregnable defensive line could be established.
More rational heads prevailed, however. Johnston was blunt in his analysis. The only authority Davis had left was the authority to surrender the Confederacy. But he would have to authorize Johnston to negotiate with Union general William T. Sherman first. That done, Johnston would request a meeting with Sherman and see what terms Sherman would offer. Hopefully, Sherman would be as generous as Grant in offering peace to a defeated foe.10 In any event, it was over.
Back in Washington, Friday mornings were set aside for meetings between Lincoln and his cabinet. Good Friday was no exception. The war would soon be over and the divided states would be united once again. United, but not restored. The momentous problem of bringing the seceded states back into their proper relation with their Northern counterparts was now at hand. At 11:00 o’clock, Lincoln greeted each of his secretaries as they arrived. Present were Navy Secretary Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Treasury Hugh McCulloch, Acting Secretary of State Frederick Seward,11 Postmaster General William Dennison, Attorney General James Speed, Secretary of the Interior John P. Usher, and Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Joining the cabinet as its guest was General Grant.
The cabinet members found Lincoln in an exuberant mood. It was a very good day. The news that filtered in from all the fronts was optimistic. It was only a matter of time, even hours, before “Lincoln’s War” would finally end. “The butchering,” as Lincoln had called it, would soon be over. Every mother, both North and South, could go to bed knowing their boys would come home safely. It was almost exactly four years to the day since the bombardment of Fort Sumter had opened hostilities.
Several hundred miles to the south, in Charleston Harbor, a large crowd had assembled on the parade ground of the old fort. In the center a large white column rose high into the spring air. A large crowd of dignitaries stood transfixed around the column. At twelve minutes past 11:00 A.M. a band struck up the “Star Spangled Banner.” Brigadier General Robert B. Anderson grabbed the halyard hanging from the column and, with tears s
treaming down his cheeks, hoisted “Old Glory” to the top of Sumter’s great flag staff. As the flag reached the top, under orders from the president, a national salute was fired from every cannon and shore battery that had fired on the fort in 1861. April 14 was the anniversary of the surrender of Fort Sumter. Four years earlier, Major Anderson had been allowed to haul down his country’s flag and surrender with honor in the face of the enemy. Four years later, Robert E. Lee was granted the same privilege. With this magnanimous gesture, Abraham Lincoln’s policy of forgiveness was vindicated.
At the White House, Lincoln and his cabinet were meeting. Restoration was among the major topics under discussion. Grant listened as the politicians went to work. Tasks such as reopening post offices and establishing mail routes, reestablishing the Federal courts, preparing for and insuring elections at all levels, reestablishing trade and opening up ports, the collection of revenues, and what to do about the leaders of the rebellion had to be undertaken. On the question of restoring state governments Lincoln commented, “We can’t take to running state governments in all of these southern states. Their people must do that, although I reckon at first, they may do it badly.”12
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