impressed with the inadequacy of language to convey a correct idea of the intensity of feeling and the magnitude of the demonstration; but take it in all its bearings, New York paid a tribute of respect to the memory of Abraham Lincoln, the like of which was never approached in this country before, and has probably not been excelled in the obsequies of any ruler in the history of the world.

One incident I can not forbear to mention. Lieutenant General Scott accompanied the escort through the city, in his carriage. At the Thirtieth street depot, he paid his last respects to the remains of President Lincoln, and then withdrew from the crowd and stood alone, waiting for the departure of the train. One of the Illinois delegation, who was also a member of Congress, approached the General and introduced himself, offering as an apology for doing so, the fact that it was his first, and might be his last opportunity. General Scott assured him that no apology was neccessary, and straightening himself to his full height, said, "You do me honor, Sir. Notwithstanding he was in his seventy-ninth year, the gentleman who related the circumstance to me, says he was the most majestic specimen of a man he ever saw. After introducing the other members of the delegation, they all left him and entered the cars.

CHAPTER XV.

The hearse car and Generals' car, or that occupied by the Guard of Honor, were transferred from Jersey City to New York on a tug boat. Those two, with seven others furnished by the Hudson River railroad, made up the train to convey the funeral party from New York to Albany. All things being in readiness, the train left the Thirtieth street depot at 4:15 p. m., April 25, leaving an immense multitude of spectators, the men with uncovered heads. They then dispersed, to treasure up the memories of that day to the end of their lives.

At all the stations were demonstrations of sorrow and respect. Fort Washington, Mount St. Vincent, Yonkers, Hastings, Dobb's Ferry, Irvington, Tarrytown, Sing Sing, Montrose, Peekskill, and many other stations, were all passed in quick succession. At many of them the train was greeted with minute guns and bands performing dirges. Funeral arches and inscriptions expressive of the sorrow of the people, were everywhere visible. At some of the stations groups of young ladies were standing on the platforms, representing the States, dressed in white with mourning badges. Many of the mottoes seen before were repeated. Among the new ones, were such as, "He died for truth." "Bear him gently to his rest."

Garrison's Landing, 6:20 p. m. This is opposite West Point, with which it is connected by a ferry. A company of Regular soldiers and all the West Point Cadets were drawn up in line. The officers of the Academy stood apart, all with uncovered heads. The

Cadets all passed through the funeral car and saluted the remains of their late Commander-in-Chief. Meanwhile, salutes were being fired from West Point, at the west side of the river.

At Cold Spring, an arch was visible, with a young lady representing the Goddess of Liberty weeping. She was supported by two boys, one representing a sailor, the other a soldier.

Fishkill, 6:55 p. m. The depot was artistically draped in mourning, with the motto, "In God we trust." Newburg is on the west side of the Hudson, opposite Fishkill. A flag draped in mourning was displayed from the house where General Washington had his headquarters in revolutionary times.

Poughkeepsie, 7:10 p. m. A bounteous supper was waiting here for the entire escort. A committee of seven ladies placed a wreath of roses on the coffin of the martyred President. A band, composed of students from Eastman's business college, accompanied the funeral train from New York. Professor Eastman, with the remainder of his twelve hundred pupils, helped to make up the twenty-five thousand assembled here. After a stay of nearly one hour, the train moved on, and from this time it was lighted by bonfires and torches, at the different stations. Passing Hyde Park and Straasburgh, the train reaches Rhinebeck at 8:35, but no stoppage. A torchlight procession enabled the assembled crowds of people to view the imposing funeral cortege as it flitted by. Barrytown, Tivoli, Germantown and Catskill present a scene of mourning, drapery, bonfires and torchlights; reaching Hudson at 9:45 p. m. Thousands of people were assembled, minute guns fired, buildings illuminated and draped in mourning. Stockport, Stuyvesant and Castleton were passed, at all of which were bonfires or torchlights.

Arrived at East Albany 10:55 p. m., to find the depot draped in mourning, bells tolling, cannon firing, soldiers marching, and three companies of firemen bear

ing torches to light the funeral party across the river to Albany. The remains were taken from the car and placed in a hearse. The entire party passed over on the ferryboat, and were escorted by a midnight torchlight procession to the State Capitol.

The coffin was deposited in the Assembly Chamber on a catafalque prepared for the occasion. Over the Speaker's desk appeared the following inscription: "I have sworn a solemn oath to preserve, protect and defend the Government."

At half past one o'clock on the morning of April 26, all being in readiness, the coffin was opened and the people admitted to view the remains. They passed by at the rate of sixty or seventy per minute from the commencement, and the number increased as daylight approached. When the morning dawned it revealed the fact that the whole city was draped in mourning, with mottoes and inscriptions tastefully displayed at appropriate points. Some of the most touching were quotations from Mr. Lincoln's own words, such as,

“The heart of the nation throbs heavily at the portals of the tomb."

"Let us resolve that the martyred dead shall not have died in vain."

The numbers increased, until the line of those awaiting admission was more than a mile in length, one half of them being ladies, all pressing towards the portals of the stately edifice. The cars and steamboats arriving that morning brought additional thousands to the city, many of them coming from one to two hundred miles. From the time of its arrival, the coffin was strewn with flowers of the most rare and costly varieties. As fast as they exhibited signs of fading, they were removed, and fresh ones put in their places. Solemn dirges were performed at intervals by the musical societies and bands. The stream of people continued to pour through the edifice,

156

THE GREAT FUNERAL CORTEGE,

to take a last look at the distinguished dead, and yet, when the hour arrived for replacing the cover, thousands were still in line pressing their way toward the State House. Governor Fenton met the funeral party at New York, and returned with it to Albany, but could go no further from the fact that the Legislature was about to adjourn, and the business before it required his presence.

While the people were filing through the Capitol of the most populous State of the Union, at the rate of more than four thousand an hour, to do homage to the remains of our martyred President, a far different scene was being enacted, in which his assassin was the central figure. On Monday evening, the twenty-fourth of April, a detachment of the 16th regiment of New York cavalry, numbering twenty-five men, under the direction of Col. L. C. Baker, of the Government detective force, left Washington to visit the southern part of Maryland, in search of John Wilkes Booth. They learned from a colored man that he had crossed the Potomac river into Virginia, and soon ascertained that he and his accomplice, Harold, were well armed, and secreted in a barn, between Port Royal and Bowling Green, the county seat of Caroline county. Lieutenant Dougherty arranged his forces, surrounded the barn about dusk on Tuesday evening, and called upon them to surrender. Several hours were spent in efforts to capture them, but Booth steadily expressed his determination not to be taken alive. Despairing of success in any other way, fire was applied to some straw in the barn, hoping to drive them out and then capture them. Seeing no hope of escape, Harold surrendered, but Booth drew up his gun, and was in the act of taking aim at one of the party outside. At this juncture, Lieutenant Dougherty ordered Sergeant Boston Corbett to fire. The shot took effect in Booth's head, but little differing from the wound he inflicted on President Lincoln. He was shot about four o'clock