surrounding it; the barn in flames; Harold giving himself up; one of the soldiers, taking aim, sending a bullet through the brain of the murderer. The final scene: the yard of the old Capital Prison in Washington; the lifeless bodies of Harold, Payne, Atzeroth, and Mrs. Surratt swinging beneath the scaffold, executed as conspirators and accomplices in the terrible crime.

In a house across the way from the theatre, a little past seven o'clock in the morning, President Lincoln died, with the light of heaven upon his brow, and the inexpressible peace of an eternal morning in every feature.

April 15, 1865.

"Now he belongs to the ages," said Secretary Stanton, breaking the mournful silence as the spirit passed away.

All the world walked in the funeral procession that bore him to his last resting-place at Springfield, Ill. Kings and emperors laid their wreaths upon his bier. All that was mortal of him is entombed near his Springfield home; but that part of him which cannot die is more beautiful today than ever before, because, as the years go by, we see that he lived not for himself but for his fellow-men; that he was one of the great men of all the ages.

NOTES TO CHAPTER XXIII.

(1) "The Royal Ape; a Dramatic Poem." Richmond, West & Johnson, publishers, No. 20 Main Street, 1863. In possession of the Author.

(2) Inaugural Address of President Lincoln, March 4, 1865.

(*) Jacob Thompson to Secretary Benjamin. Letter dated Toronto, C. W., December 3, 1864. Unpublished Confederate Archives.

(4) Idem.

(5) Idem.

(6) Idem.

(7) Idem.

(*) Clement C. Clay to Secretary Benjamin. Unpublished Confederate Archives.

(*) Senator Oldham to Jefferson Davis, February 11, 1865. Unpublished Confederate Archives.

(10) Pitman, “Report of Conspiracy Trials,” p. 51.

(11) Idem, p. 52.

(12) Gideon Welles, Galaxy Magazine, April, 1872. (13) Idem.

31*

IN

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE TRIUMPHANT END.

N this outline history of the War of the Rebellion there is far more than the marshalling of armies-more even than the conflict between Slavery and Freedom. Through the smoke and flame of battle we see the stamina, firmness, and power of a government of the people. Kings, emperors, dukes, and lords in lands beyond the sea had looked forward to the time when the Republic would disappear, as a stately ship founders in a storm. They thought the time would come when the financial resources of the country would be exhausted and the nation bankrupt. The Union, they believed, was forever divided. Bitterness and hate would work the dissolution of the nation. When the news of the assassination reached Europe, it was regarded as the beginning of anarchy; but, though the President was dead, the nation still lived. In the presence of Senator Sumner and others, a few hours after the death of Abraham Lincoln, Andrew Johnson took the oath as President.

It has been said that there is nothing so timid as money. The man who loves money is ever anxious for fear that he may lose it. So, on the morning of April 15, 1865, men in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, who had invested in the bonds of the United States, when the shock over the news of the assassination had passed, began to think of the bonds which they had purchased. Would there not be a financial panic? Would not everybody lose faith in the stability of the Government? In the great exchange building in New York was an excited crowd, eager to sell their bonds, expecting that no one would buy them; but they found there were people ready to purchase. There was no panic, and a fall of only two per cent. in the market value. The excited men did not then know that one man in particular had such faith in the stability of the Government that he had sent a message from Philadelphia to his agents in New York to purchase all the bonds that might be offered-Mr. Jay Cooke,(') who had been the agent of the Treasury Department to negotiate the original sale of the bonds, and who had thus purchased them. The rich men of Eng

land, France, and Germany wondered at the faith of the people of the United States in themselves. The newspapers of those countries could not account for it.

The new President, Andrew Johnson, was born in Raleigh, North Carolina. His parents were poor, and he was obliged to work for a living. He became a tailor, and while working with his needle learned to read. He moved to Tennessee and married a good and loving wife, who taught him writing. He had been elected to Congress, had been Governor of Tennessee, and senator. He had opposed secession, stood resolutely for the Union, and the people in their gratitude had elected him Vice-President. He was bitter against the secessionists. He offered a reward of one hundred thousand dollars for the capture of Jefferson Davis.

We have seen the President of the Confederacy leaving Richmond in the gloaming of a Sunday evening, accompanied by the members of his government.

When the day dawned he was at Burksville, and breathed more freely, for he had escaped falling into the hands of Sheridan. The train moved on to Danville. The people of that place gave him a hearty April 4, 1865. welcome. Thenceforth that town was to be the seat of government, for the President was resolute in his decision not to leave Virginia. He wrote a proclamation. "We have entered," it read, "upon a new phase of the struggle. Relieved from the necessity of guarding particular points, our army will be free to move from point to point, to strike the enemy in detail far from his base. Let us but will it, and we are free. I announce to you that it is my purpose to maintain your cause with my heart and soul. I will never consent to abandon one foot of the soil of the States of the Confederacy. . . . If by the stress of numbers we shall ever be compelled to a temporary withdrawal from the limits of Virginia, or of any other border State, again and again will we return, until the baffled and exhausted enemy shall abandon his endless and impossible task of making slaves of a people resolved to be free. Let us, then, not despair, my countrymen, but, relying on God, meet the foe with fresh defiance and with unconquered and unconquerable hearts."

Proclamations, however brave the words, do not carry muskets or repair worn-out railroads. They do not fight battles, win victories, or bring money to an empty treasury. The resources of the Confederate Government were exhausted, its military power fast fading away. The people of Virginia and of the other sections of the South made no response. No citizen came to enlist. The printed sheet was waste paper-nothing more. Five days, and then came the news of what had happened at Appomattox.

16*