Neither conductor, porter, nor any one else has any inkling that Abraham Lincoln and the invalid brother of the lady are one and the same. Possibly the engineer wonders why men are standing by the bridges with lanterns as the train thunders across them, but Mr. Pinkerton knows that everything is as it should be.

1861.

The train from Philadelphia at an early hour rolls into the Washington station. A gentleman standing behind one of the pillars of Feb. 28, the building is looking eagerly at the passengers as they step from the cars, and is about to turn away, disappointed, when he sees a tall man wearing a soft felt hat, with a muffler round his neck, step from the sleeping car, accompanied by two gentlemen.

"The tall man looks like an Illinois farmer-as if he had come to Washington to get a patent for his farm," the thought of the man by the pillar.

"How are you, Lincoln ?" the greeting. Lamon and Judd are startled.

"Oh, this is only Washburne," says Lincoln, introducing Mr. Washburne to his two companions.

A carriage whirls them to Willard's Hotel. Mr. Seward comes, and the two men who had been rivals for the nomination at Chicago grasp each other's hands.

"Faith, it is you, then, who have brought us the new Prisident,” the greeting of the smiling porter to Mr. Washburne. (1)

While Mr. Lincoln is eating his breakfast in Washington, the conspirators in Baltimore, who had so carefully planned his assassination, are comprehending that he has escaped them.

Long ago, a poet far away in Oriental lands, wrote these comforting and assuring words concerning God's guardianship of his children:

"For He shall give His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy ways."

NOTES TO CHAPTER XII.

(1) J. G. Holland, "Life of Abraham Lincoln,” p. 236.

(2) "Presbyterian Review," vol. xiii., No. 4.

(3) Correspondence in possession of the Author.

(*) William H. Herndon, "Lincoln," p. 481 (edition 1889).

() Ibid., p. 482.

(") Ibid., p. 483.

(2) Document in possession of the Author.

() L. E. Chittenden, "Recollections of Abraham Lincolu," p. 37.

(°) S. M. Felton to William Schoules in "Massachusetts in the War.”

(10) Allen Pinkerton, "Story of a Detective."

(11) E. B. Washburne, "Reminiscences of Lincoln,” p. 34.

(2) Ibid., p. 39.

"PEACE!

CHAPTER XIII.

OUTBREAK OF THE REBELLION.

EACE! Peace at any price!" said those who did not comprehend the eternal antagonism between Freedom and Slavery. People who stood aghast at the prospect of civil war with its attendant horrors were willing to surrender their convictions of what was right, if by so doing they could prevent hostilities between the North and the South. The Virginia Legislature proposed a National Peace Convention, to be held in Washington. All the States, except those which had seceded, appointed delegates. While Mr. Lincoln was making his way from Springfield to Washington, the convention, with ex-President Tyler presiding, was holding daily sessions in the great hall connected with Willard's Hotel. It was an effort to conciliate the Secessionists, who had no desire to be conciliated. They were dreaming of future empire, greatness, glory, and power for the South; and no measure short of complete surrender to their demands would be accepted.

The members from Virginia were surprised when informed that Mr. Lincoln was in the hotel. It seems probable that one delegate knew of the plot to assassinate him.

"How did he get through Baltimore?" his exclamation. (')

"Mr. Chairman," said John A. Logan, of Illinois, "I move that the president of the conference wait on the President-elect, and inform him that the conference would be pleased to wait upon him in a body at such time as will suit his convenience."

"No!" "No!" "Lay it on the table!" "Vote it down!" "Railsplitter!" "Ignorance!" "Clown!" shouted the Southern delegates.

"I trust that no Southern member will decline to treat the incoming President with the same respect that has already been given to the present incumbent of that office," said Mr. Tyler. The resolution was adopted.

What sort of a man was this rail-splitter? What did he look like? There must be something unusual about one who could rise from such a low estate to be elected President. Curiosity was awakened.

Evening came. Mr. Lincoln was in the parlor of the hotel. The members of the Peace Conference entered. They beheld a tall man wearing ill-fitting clothes. What was it that instantly arrested their attention? Was it the kindly face? Was it the perfect ease with which he greeted each one when introduced by Mr. Chittenden?

“You are a smaller man, Mr. Rives, than I supposed-I mean in person; every one is acquainted with the greatness of your intellect. It is indeed pleasant to meet one who has so honorably represented his country in Congress and abroad." (*) Mr. Rives comprehended that a man so familiar with his personal history was not an ignorant boor. (*)

2

"The clouds," said Mr. Rives, "that hang over us are very dark. I can do little, you can do much. Everything now depends on you."

"I cannot wholly agree to that. My course is as plain as a turnpike road. It is marked out by the Constitution. I am in no doubt which way to go. Suppose we all stop discussing and try the experiment of obedience to the laws and the Constitution. Don't you think it will work ?"

May I answer that question?" Mr. Summers, of West Virginia, made the request. Mr. Lincoln waited for him to go on. "Yes, it will work. If the Constitution is your light I will follow it with you, and the people of the South will go with us."

“Your name, Mr. Clay (James B. Clay, of Kentucky), is all the indorsement you require. From my boyhood the name of Henry Clay has been an inspiration to me."

"Does liberty still thrive in Eastern Tennessee?" the question to Mr. Zollicoffer, who had been member of Congress from that State. Little did Mr. Zollicoffer think that before a twelvemonth passed he would meet death on the battle-field of Mill Springs.

The deep, sepulchral voice of John A. Seddon, of Virginia, who was doing what he could to bring about the secession of that State, broke in: "It is your failure to enforce the laws of which we complain—to suppress your John Browns and Garrisons, who preach insurrection and make war upon our property."

There was humor and firmness in Mr. Lincoln's reply: "If my memory serves me, John Brown was hung and Mr. Garrison imprisoned. You cannot justly charge the North with disobedience to statutes, or with failure to enforce them. You have made some which are very offensive, but they have been enforced, notwithstanding."

"You do not enforce the laws. You refuse to execute the statute

for the return of fugitive slaves. Your leading men openly declare that they will not assist the marshal to capture or return them,” said Seddon.

"You are wrong in your facts again, Mr. Seddon. Your slaves have been returned from the shadow of Faneuil Hall, in the heart of Boston. Our people do not like the work. They will do what the law commands, but they will not volunteer to act as tipstaves and bumbailiffs. The instinct is natural to the race. Is it not true of the South? Would you join in the pursuit of a fugitive slave if you could avoid it? Is it the proper work for gentlemen?”

"Your Press," said Seddon, "is incendiary. It advocates servile insurrections, and advises our slaves to cut the throats of their masters. You do not suppress your newspapers. You encourage their violence."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Seddon; I intend no offence, but I will not suffer such a statement to pass unchallenged, because it is not true. No Northern newspaper, not even the most ultra, has advocated a slave insurrection, or advised slaves to cut their masters' throats. A gentleman of your intelligence should not make such assertions. We do maintain the freedom of the Press. We deem it necessary in a free government. Are we peculiar in that respect? Is not the same doctrine held in the South?"

The haughty Virginian could make no reply. (^)

"Is the nation, Mr. Lincoln, to be plunged into bankruptcy? Is the grass to grow in our streets?" asked William E. Dodge, merchant, of New York.

"If it depends upon me, the grass shall not grow anywhere except in the fields, where it ought to grow," the reply.

"Then you will permit the South to control our institutions?"

"I do not know that I quite understand you. I do not know what my acts or opinions may be in the future. If I ever come to the great office of President of the United States I shall take an oath to the best of my ability to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution. This is a great and solemn duty. With the support of the people and the assistance of the Almighty I shall undertake to perform it. I have full faith that I shall perform it. It is not the Constitution as I would like to have it, but as it is, that is to be defended. The Constitution will not be preserved and defended until it is enforced and obeyed in every part of every one of the United States. It must be so respected and defended, let the grass grow where it may."

His words were deep and solemn, as if spoken at the funeral of a