unsuccessful battle at Bentonville (March 20, 1865), the opposition gave way, and the Union troops occupied Goldsboro, an important point a hundred miles south of Richmond, commanding the Southern railway communications of the Confederate capital.  The situation was singularly dramatic and impressive.  In this narrow theatre of war were now being rendered, with all the leading actors on the stage, the closing scenes of that great and bloody tragedy.  Grant on the north and Sherman on the south were grinding Lee and Johnston between them like upper and nether millstones.

The last days of March brought unmistakable signs of the speedy breaking-up of the rebellion.  Lincoln, filled with anticipation not unmixed with anxiety, wished to be at the front.  “When we came to the end of the War and the breaking-up of things,” says General Grant, “one of Lincoln’s friends said to me, ’I think Lincoln would like to come down and spend a few days at City Point, but he is afraid if he does come it might look like interfering with the movements of the army, and after all that has been said about other Generals he hesitates.’  I was told that if Lincoln had a hint from me that he would be welcome he would come by the first boat.  Of course I sent word that the President could do me no greater honor than to come down and be my guest.  He came down, and we spent several days riding around the lines.  He was a fine horseman.  He talked, and talked, and talked; he seemed to enjoy it, and said, ’How grateful I feel to be with the boys and see what is being done at Richmond!’ He never asked a question about the movements.  He would say, ‘Tell me what has been done; not what is to be done.’  He would sit for hours tilted back in his chair, with his hand shading his eyes, watching the movements of the men with the greatest interest.”  Another account says:  “Lincoln made many visits with Grant to the lines around Richmond and Petersburg.  On such occasions he usually rode one of the General’s fine bay horses, called ‘Cincinnati.’  He was a good horseman, and made his way through swamps and over corduroy roads as well as the best trooper in the command.  The soldiers invariably recognized him, and greeted him, wherever he appeared amongst them, with cheers that were no lip service, but came from the depth of their hearts.  He always had a pleasant salute or a friendly word for the men in the ranks.”

Aside from the President’s desire to be at the front at this critical time, he had an almost feverish anxiety to escape from the petty concerns and details of official life in Washington.  In Welles’s Diary is this entry (March 23, 1865):  “The President has gone to the front, partly to get rid of the throng [office-seekers, politicians, etc.] that is pressing on him.  The more he yields, the greater the pressure.  It has now become such that he is compelled to flee.  There is no doubt he is much worn down.  Besides, he wishes the war terminated, and, to this end, that severe terms shall not be exacted of the Rebels.”