The Last Weeks of Abraham Lincoln

by David Alan Johnson

  General Sherman replied that he was “fully empowered” to arrange any suspension of hostilities between the two armies, and that he would “be willing to confer with you to that end.”22 He also stated that he would “undertake to abide by the same terms and conditions as were made by Generals Grant and Lee at Appomattox Court-House,” and ended on a note that would have earned the full approval of President Lincoln: “I will add that I really desire to save the people of North Carolina the damage they would sustain by the march of this army through the central or western parts of the State.”

  Word of General Johnston's surrender communiqué, and of General Sherman's response to it, did not reach Washington that day. General Sherman sent his reply in the form of a letter, and had it delivered by messenger. When President Lincoln dropped in at the War Department's telegraph office, he asked Secretary Stanton if there had been any news from North Carolina. Stanton indicated that there had been no communication from General Sherman.

  Early on Friday afternoon, a flag-raising ceremony was held at Fort Sumter, in Charleston harbor. Exactly four years earlier, on April 14, 1961, Major Robert Anderson had surrendered the fort to Confederate General P. G. T. Beauregard. On this Good Friday, Robert Anderson, now a general, raised the same flag over the recaptured fort in an elaborate ceremony. An estimated three thousand people were in attendance, including senators, congressmen, judges, and other dignitaries. The well-known orator Reverend Henry Ward Beecher delivered the somber keynote address, which ended, “in the name of God, we lift our banner and dedicate it to Peace, Union, and Liberty, now and forever more. Amen.”23

  The entire ceremony revolved around the raising of the flag, which was performed by General Anderson. The general made a short speech, which began, “After four long, long years of war, I restore to its proper place this flag which floated here during peace, before the first act of this cruel Rebellion.”24 Immediately afterward, three sailors attached the flag to the halyards, and General Anderson raised it to the top of the flagstaff—“with a firm and steady pull ran aloft the old flag,” according to one onlooker.25 “No sooner had it caught the breeze than there was one tumultuous shout…. Our flag was there, its crimson folds tattered, but not dishonored, regenerated and baptized anew in the fires of Liberty.” When the flag reached the top of the staff, it was saluted by one hundred guns from Fort Sumter itself, along with the batteries of Fort Moultre and other forts that were “conspicuous in the inauguration of the rebellion.” The audience cheered, applauded, cried, and sang “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

  The speeches and activities at Fort Sumter, including the flag raising, were meant to bring closure to the war, along with a tidy and conclusive end to it—four years to the day after the war began, it came to an end in the same place. “If Lincoln had lived,” a historian commented many years later, “every textbook in American history would have shown the flag raising at Fort Sumter as the conclusion of the war. That's what it was meant to be.”26 The ceremony had been arranged to mark a final end to the war, an end to the fighting and the beginning of reconstruction and reunification. But events would not turn out to be as neat and conclusive as many people had hoped.

  Vice-President Andrew Johnson had an appointment to meet with the president at the White House on Friday afternoon, but no exact time had been set. President Lincoln had asked Johnson to come sometime during the early afternoon, after the cabinet meeting had ended. But when the vice-president showed up for his appointment, a guard informed him that the cabinet meeting was still in session. Vice-President Johnson replied that he would stay within the White House grounds and keep himself available until the president was ready to see him.

  Andrew Johnson had actually been waiting to see President Lincoln since Inauguration Day. He tried to arrange appointments several times but had never actually been able to talk to the president. But now the president had asked to see him. He waited for the cabinet meeting to end, and for Lincoln to call him into his office.

  Abraham Lincoln neither liked nor disliked Andrew Johnson, although his embarrassing performance at the inauguration, called a “detestable discourse” by the Marquis de Chambrun,27 did not help to enhance Lincoln's opinion of him. In common with most presidents before and since, President Lincoln tended to pay very little attention to his second-in-command and did not give him any jobs or assignments that might have made him a more useful member of the government. He also never asked Johnson to attend a cabinet meeting. In June 1864, when members of the Republican National Convention asked President Lincoln for advice on selecting a running mate—whether or not Johnson should replace Hannibal Hamlin, his current vice-president, on the ticket—Lincoln's reply was entirely noncommittal. “Wish not to interfere about V.P.,” he said. “Can not interfere about platform. Convention must judge for itself.”28 Although Andrew Johnson might make a good candidate, Lincoln would not endorse him but also would not reject him.

  After the Republican delegates went through their preliminaries, and had a roll-call vote to select their vice-presidential candidate, Andrew Johnson won by a large majority. The delegates were informed of the results of the roll-call vote by an official announcement. “Gentlemen of the convention—Andrew Johnson, having received a majority of all the votes, is declared duly nominated candidate of the National Union Party for the Vice-Presidency.”29 (The Republican Party was calling itself the National Union Party to accommodate War Democrats who supported Lincoln's war policy.) The Republican/National Union Party now had a coalition ticket: a Republican presidential candidate running in an alliance with a Democratic vice-presidential candidate. If all went according to plan, enough Republicans and War Democrats would vote for Lincoln/Johnson to outvote the Democratic candidate, George B. McClellan. “The selection for the Vice-Presidency strikes dismay into the ranks of the Copperheads,” according to one account that disapproved of the Copperheads, or Peace Democrats, “who feel that it has strengthened the Union cause tremendously.”30

  President Lincoln hoped that a War Democrat would reinforce the Republican ticket and would improve his chances of being reelected. He had the feeling that the coming election was going to be close and that he was going to need all the help he could get. But he never sent Andrew Johnson a telegram to congratulate him on his nomination. As far as he was concerned, Johnson was on the ticket for the sole purpose of getting votes.

  Their meeting on April 14 began after the cabinet meeting ended and after the president had lunch with Mary Lincoln. President Lincoln welcomed “Andy,” shook his hand enthusiastically, and ushered him into the office. The two of them conferred for about twenty minutes. Not much is known about what took place during their conversation, but the main topic was probably reconstruction and the reunification of the country—the two most pressing concerns on the president's mind, now that General Lee had surrendered and General Johnston was about to. It is likely that the president advised Johnson of the proceedings of that morning's cabinet meeting.31

  The conversation between President Lincoln and Vice-President Johnson was too short to be anything but superficial, but at least it gave the new vice-president some insight into what Lincoln had in mind for the future. When the president finished saying what he had to say, the two men shook hands again and the president ushered Johnson out of his office. Vice-President Johnson left the White House, and President Lincoln went back to work.

  The president attended to several official chores. He accepted the resignation of a supreme court justice from the territory of Idaho and recommended his successor, he endorsed the release of a prisoner from Point Lookout prison in Maryland, and he endorsed several appointees in the state of Maryland, including postmaster, surveyor, and district attorney. The piece of business that probably meant most to him involved the issuing of passes to Richmond, which he ruled would no longer be necessary. “No pass is necessary now to authorize any one to go & return from Petersburg & Richmond. People go & return just as they did before the war.”32 It was a
sign that life was finally beginning to return to normal.

  The president also had an unscheduled conversation with Nancy Bushrod sometime during the afternoon. Nancy Bushrod and her husband, Tom, had been slaves on what is usually described as “the old Harwood plantation near Richmond.”33 When they heard about the Emancipation Proclamation, they left the plantation and came to Washington with their three children. Tom joined the army a short time afterward and always sent his pay back home to his wife. The money arrived regularly every month, until recently, when it had suddenly stopped. Nancy had twin boys and a baby girl to look after, and she now had no money to support them. Her children were crying from hunger, and she made up her mind to see President Lincoln about her predicament. On the afternoon of April 14, she came to the White House to ask the president if he could help her to get her husband's army pay.

  At the White House, two sets of guards tried to keep Nancy from seeing the president, telling her that he was busy and that it was against orders to let her pass. But all the shouting between Nancy and the soldiers had its desired effect—“All of a sudden de do’ open, an’ Mistah Linkun stood lookin’ at me.” The president said to the soldiers, “There is time for all who need me. Let the good woman come in.”

  The president listened to what Nancy Bushrod had to say for about fifteen minutes. After sitting on the other side of the desk and hearing her story through, he said, “You are entitled to your soldier-husband's pay. Come this time tomorrow, and the papers will be signed and ready for you.” Nancy thanked the president profusely; Lincoln simply bowed, and went back to a desk piled high with work. Nancy Bushrod lived to be more than eighty years of age, and never tired of telling the story of the day she met Abraham Lincoln.

  The president and Mary Lincoln took a carriage ride out to the Navy Yard at about 5:00 p.m. The president wanted to be alone with his wife for a while and did not want anyone else to come along. He also just wanted to get out of the city, if even for only a couple of hours. At the Navy Yard, President Lincoln went aboard the monitor USS Montauk, which was still showing battle scars from her part in the attack on Charleston in 1863. The Montauk's crew was glad to see him; the president took time to speak with several of them.

  Lincoln was in a good mood and had been since morning. During the cabinet meeting, several members commented on how cheerful he seemed to be—almost unnaturally happy, considering his usually melancholy disposition. His happy mood continued into the afternoon, which came as a surprise to Mary. “Dear husband,” she told him, “you almost startle me with your great cheerfulness.”34

  “And well I may feel so, Mary,” he replied, and went on to explain, “I consider this day the war has come to a close.”35 After a moment, he said, “We must both be more cheerful in the future—between the war and the loss of our darling Willie, we have both been very miserable.” He was certainly more than correct about that: the strain of the war, added to their personal problems, had combined to make them both very miserable indeed.

  President Lincoln also talked about the future, especially about life after he left the White House in four years. He wanted to travel, to go to Europe, where he would be welcomed as a senior American statesman. He and Mary might even to go Jerusalem, which he had always wanted to see. They would also take a trip across the United States—visit some of the western states and ride out to California. After taking a long and much-needed rest, the Lincolns would go back to Springfield, where Lincoln would return to his law practice. The years ahead looked to be peaceful and prosperous, giving them both something to look forward to. “He longed, a little wistfully, for that time to come with its promise of peace,” Mary mentioned to William Crook.36

  The president and Mary returned to the White House for dinner and discovered that they had two visitors, both old friends of President Lincoln: General Isham Haynie and Governor Richard J. Oglesby, both from Illinois. Mary Lincoln allowed the three men to withdraw to Lincoln's office, where he proceeded to read passages from one of his favorite books, the comical Nasby Letters, written by David R. Locke under the pseudonym Petroleum Vesuvius Nasby. Reverend Nasby was an ardent Confederate supporter, who found life in the Confederate army dreary and decided to desert. Everyone enjoyed the Nasby jokes, especially the president himself, who kept on reading until it was time for dinner. Lincoln invited his friends to join him, but they both said they had previous engagements and would see him again soon.

  Dinner was served earlier than usual that day, to allow the Lincolns to get to Ford's Theatre on time. Mary complained of a headache and said that she would rather not go out, but the president insisted, telling her that it would be good to get out and have a laugh. Also, he added, another night at home would not be either quiet or enjoyable—he would have callers all evening. Mary changed her mind and agreed to see the comedy with her husband.

  After dinner, President Lincoln walked over to the War Department with William Crook to meet with Secretary of War Stanton. Crook mentions only that they went to the War Department “late on the afternoon of the 14th.”37 By that time the president's mood had changed dramatically, from happiness to depression. “I found that the President was more depressed than I had ever seen him and his step unusually slow,” Crook observed. “I had heard of the transitions from almost wild spirits to abject melancholy which marked him…I wondered at him that day and felt uneasy.”

  On their short walk to the War Department, Lincoln said something that both upset and frightened Crook. “I believe there are men who want to take my life,” he said, half to himself. “And I have no doubt they will do it.”

  William Crook was as alarmed by the president's straightforward tone of voice as by the statement itself. “Why do you think so, Mr. Lincoln?” was all he could say in response. “Other men have been assassinated,” Lincoln said, unemotionally. The only response Crook could make was, “I hope you are mistaken, Mr. President.”

  The two of them walked a few paces in silence before President Lincoln spoke again. “I have perfect confidence in those who around me—in every one of you men,” he said. “I know no one could do it and escape alive. But if it is to be done, it is impossible to prevent it.”

  They had arrived at the War Department by that time. President Lincoln went inside for his conference with Secretary Stanton, which was shorter than Crook expected. When he had come out of Stanton's office, Crook noticed that all the depression in the president's face had disappeared. He informed Crook in a normal tone of voice that he and Mrs. Lincoln were going to the theater that evening to see Our American Cousin. “It has been advertised that we will be there,” he said, “and I cannot disappoint the people. Otherwise I would not go. I do not want to go.”

  Crook was surprised to hear this. He knew how much Lincoln loved the theater, and it seemed very unusual to hear him say that he did not want to go. When the two of them returned to the White House the president paused for a moment before going in. Crook said goodnight. “Good-bye, Crook,” the president answered. This struck Crook as very strange—President Lincoln had always said “Good night, Crook” before. He walked home feeling “queer and sad.”

  President Lincoln found Speaker of the House Schuyler Colfax waiting for him when he entered the White House. Colfax wanted to know if the president had any intention of calling Congress back into session during the summer months, and seemed greatly relieved when Lincoln said that he had no such intention. This meant that Speaker Colfax would be free to take his planned trip to the west coast. Lincoln envied him the trip—he wished that he could go himself. Before he left, Speaker Colfax mentioned how nervous and anxious he had been when the president had gone to Richmond. Lincoln joked that he would also have been alarmed if anyone but himself had been president and had gone to Richmond. But since he had made the trip, he was not afraid about himself at all.

  When Schuyler Colfax left, Congressman George Ashmun of Massachusetts was waiting to see the president on behalf of a friend who had a claim against the governme
nt. Lincoln was in no mood to hear about anybody's claims against the government and let the congressman know his feelings in an angry tone of voice. But when he saw that his angry response had offended Ashmun, he changed his manner and said that he would make an appointment to see the congressman first thing in the morning. He took a card from his pocket and wrote, “April 14, 1865—Allow Mr. Ashmun & friend to come in at 9 A.M. to-morrow” and signed it.38

  President Lincoln walked out onto the White House porch, where he joined Schuyler Colfax, Noah Brooks, and his wife. Brooks thought the president “was full of fun and anecdotes, feeling especially jubilant at the prospect before us.”39 He spoke about the country's future, mentioning that General Grant thought it possible to reduce the cost of maintaining the army by at least a half million dollars per day, which would reduce the national debt and help the economy to recover at a fairly rapid pace. While President Lincoln was talking, his carriage pulled up. At about the same time, former congressman Isaac N. Arnold arrived to have a word with the president. Arnold was an old friend and political ally, but Lincoln did not have time to talk at that precise moment. He excused himself, explained that he was on his way to the theater, and asked Arnold to come back in the morning.

  EVENING

  Before driving to Ford's Theatre, the Lincolns stopped at H Street to pick up Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancée, Clara Harris. On their way to the theater, Clara and Mrs. Lincoln had a pleasant conversation. The carriage had been escorted by two cavalrymen during the short trip. When the president and his party arrived at Ford's Theatre, the cavalrymen rode back to their barracks. Another escort would arrive in time to take the Lincolns and their guests back home after the play ended.

  The performance had already started when the presidential party entered the theater at about 8:30. The conductor of the orchestra immediately stopped the show and struck up, “Hail to the Chief.” The audience spontaneously rose to their feet and cheered, as the president walked slowly toward the state box, trailing behind Mary Lincoln and their two guests. He could not be seen very well by the audience; the corridor leading to the box was narrow and not very well lighted. When he reached the box, President Lincoln looked down and acknowledged the cheers and applause of the crowd by smiling and bowing to them.