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CHAPTER XII.

LAST DAYS AND A NATION'S GRIEF.

"This Duncan

Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been

So clear in his great office, that his virtues

Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against

The deep damnation of his taking-off.”

SHAKSPEARE'S Macbeth.

"Man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets."ECCLES. xii. 5.

THE hour of triumph arrives. Victory no longer hovers between the contending forces, but settles down upon the standard of freedom. Grant and Sherman and Sheridan have done their work bravely; and they and their fellow-warriors, officers and privates, have won immortal honor; for "Richmond is ours!" Lee retreats! Grant pursues! The Confederate President is a flying fugitive; and he whom God called to be the savior of a race is to tread the streets of the conquered city, — the Babylon that had fallen!

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"Carleton" narrates in his own graphic style the visit of the President to Richmond, calling it "one of the memorable events of the week." He says, "There was no committee of reception, no guard of honor, no grand display of troops, no assembling of an eager multitude to welcome him. He entered the city unheralded. Six sailors, armed with carabines, stepped upon the shore, followed by the President, who held his little son by the hand; and Admiral Porter: the officers followed, and six more sailors brought up the rear."

* C. C. Coffin, Esq., in "Atlantic Monthly" for June, 1865.

Mr. Coffin himself was there, and speaks throughout as an eye-witness:

"There were forty or fifty freedmen, who had been sole possessors of themselves for twenty-four hours, at work on the bank of the canal, securing some floating timber, under the direction of a lieutenant. Somehow they obtaired the information that the man who was head and shoulders taller than all others around him, with features large and irregular, with a mild eye and pleasant countenance, was President Lincoln.

"God bless you, sah!' said one, taking off his cap, and bowing very low.

"Hurrah, hurrah! President Linkum hab come!' was the shout which rang through the street.

"The lieutenant found himself without a command. What cared those freedmen, fresh from the house of bondage, for floating timber and military commands? Their deliverer had come, he who, next to the Lord Jesus, was their best friend. It was not an hurrah that they gave, but a wild, jubilant cry of inexpressible joy.

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They gathered round the President, ran ahead, hovered upon the flanks of the little company, and hung like a dark cloud upon the rear. Men, women, and children joined the constantly-increasing throng. They came from all the by-streets, running in breathless haste, shouting, hallooing, and dancing with delight. The men threw up their hats; the women waved their bonnets and handkerchiefs, clapped their hands, and sang, 'Glory to God! glory, glory, glory!' rendering all the praise to God, who had heard their wailings in the past, their moanings. for wives, husbands, children, and friends sold out of their sight, had given them freedom, and, after long years of waiting, had permitted them thus unexpectedly to be hold the face of their great benefactor.

"I thank you, dear Jesus, that I behold President Linkum!' was the exclamation of a woman who stood upon the threshold of her humble home, and, with streaming eyes and clasped hands, gave thanks aloud to the avior of men.

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'Another, more demonstrative in her joy, was jumping, and striking her hands with all her might, crying, 'Bless de Lord, bless de Lord, bless de Lord!' as if there could be no end of her thanksgiving.

"The air rang with a tumultuous chorus of voices. The streets became almost impassable on account of the increasing multitude. Soldiers were summoned to clear the way. How strange the event! The President of the United States- he who had been hated, despised, maligned, above all other men living; to whom the vilest epithets had been applied by the people of Richmond — was walking their streets, receiving thanksgiving, blessings, and prayers from thousands who hailed him as an ally of the Messiah ! . . .

"Abraham Lincoln was walking their streets; and, worst of all, that plain, honest-hearted man was recog nizing the 'niggers' as human beings by returning their salutations! The walk was long, and the President halted a moment to rest. 'May de good Lord bless you, President Linkum!' said an'old negro, removing his hat, and bowing, with tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. The President removed his own hat, and bowed in silence; but it was a bow which upset the forms, laws, customs, and ceremonies of centuries. It was a death-shock to chivalry, and a mortal wound to caste. Recognize a nigger! Faugh! A woman in an adjoining house beheld it, and turned from the scene in unspeakable disgust. There were men in the crowd who had daggers in their eyes; but the chosen assassin was not there, the

hour for the damning work had not come, and that great hearted man passed on to the Executive Mansion of the Confederacy.

"Want of space compels us to pass over other scenes, -the visit of the President to the State House; the jubilant shouts of the crowd; the rush of freedmen into the Capitol grounds, where, till the appearance of their deliverer, they had never been permitted to enter; the ride of the President through the streets; his visit to Libby Prison; the distribution of bread to the destitute," &c.

While reminded of Washington returning the salute of a negro because he would not be outdone in politeness, none can fail to recognize even more than politeness in Lincoln's act of courtesy. It was justice, strict, impartial justice, that lowered the brow of the conqueror to the salutation of the delivered.

Joy filled the North. Bells were rung with jubilant and untiring energy. Cannons bayed the nation's joy. Everywhere there was gladness on human faces. Men clasped hands joyously, and the words "victory" and

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peace were on every tongue. Even those whose dear ones would never return from the field of battle thanked God, with tearful eyes and aching hearts, that such precious blood had not been shed in vain. Drafting and recruiting was stopped in the loyal States, and "all went merry as a marriage-bell." Scarcely had the people ceased shouting over the fall of Richmond, when there came tidings of the surrender of Lee; and again the bells and cannon were heard, and glad hearts thanked God for the news.

But, hark! the jubilant bells cease. On the air at midnight, in more than one city in our land, comes the solemn stroke of the death-knell. What can it portend? Roused from slumber by the unwelcome sound, the peo

ple learn the sad and shocking tidings that their beloved President had been stricken down by an assassin's hand, and lay bleeding and dying in the capital of the nation.

The morning papers tell in staring capitals the horrid tale: "The President is insensible, life is slowly ebbing away," is the telegraphic message from one who watched at his side; and before nine A.M., on the 15th of April, 1865, flags hang at half-mast, minute-guns are sounding, bells toll, tears fill the eyes of strong men, and women and children weep, as for their own beloved dead; for President Lincoln is with us no longer. Slavery struck its final blow, and orphaned the nation.

Wearied with the incessant cares of his office, the President sometimes sought rest and relaxation from stern duties by attending the theatre, listening to the elocutional powers of the performers, and beholding the success with which the actors "held the mirror up to nature.'

On the night of the 14th of April, 1865, he attended Ford's Theatre in Washington, partly for a respite and rest, and partly that the people, who expected his presence, might not be disappointed. He did not dream of immediate danger. Many at the North were uneasy at the fact that the President was exposed to danger in Richmond; but he did not fear. To a friend who expressed the idea that the rebels might attempt his life, he said, stepping to a desk, and drawing from a pigeon-hole a package of letters, "There, every one of these contains a threat to assassinate me. I might be nervous if I were to dwell upon the subject; but I have come to the conclusion that there are opportunities to kill me every day of my life, if there are persons disposed to do it. It is not possible to avoid exposure to such a fate, and I shall not trouble myself about it."

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