Part 27 (1/2)

He gathered up the scattered sheets of the President's speech, and then amused himself by chasing the leaves as they fluttered from the speaker's hand. Growing impatient at his father's delay to drop another page, Tad whispered, 'Come, give me another!' The President made a queer motion with his foot toward the boy, but otherwise showed no sign that he had other thoughts than those which he was dropping to the listeners beneath. Without was a vast sea of upturned faces, each eye fixed on the form of the President. Around the tall white pillars of the portico flowed an undulating surface of human beings, stirred by emotion and lighted with the fantastic colors of fireworks. At the window, his face irradiated with patriotic joy, was the much-beloved Lincoln, reading the speech that was to be his last to the people. Behind him crept back and forth, on his hands and knees, the boy of the White House, gathering up his father's carefully written pages, and occasionally lifting up his eager face waiting for more. It was before and behind the scenes.

Sometimes I wonder, when I recall that night, how much of a father's love and thought of his boy might have been mingled in Lincoln's last speech to the eager mult.i.tude.”

The President's speech on this occasion was largely devoted to the impending problem of Reconstruction in the South. The problem was complex and difficult, with no recognized principles or precedent for guidance. Said Lincoln: ”Unlike the case of a war between independent nations, there is no authorized organization for us to treat with. No one man has authority to give up the rebellion for any other man. We simply must begin with and mould from disorganized and discordant elements. Nor is it a small additional embarra.s.sment, that we, the loyal people, differ amongst ourselves as to the mode, manner, and measure of reconstruction. Let us all join in doing the acts necessary to restoring the proper practical relations between these States and the Union.” The problem thus touched upon was one that had long occupied the thoughts of Lincoln, especially since the downfall of the Confederacy had been imminent. His practical and far-seeing mind was already addressing itself to the new issues, duties, and responsibilities, which he saw opening before him, and which he well knew would demand all of his wisdom, firmness, and political sagacity. As was to be expected, a great diversity of views prevailed. A powerful faction in Congress, sympathized with by some members of the Cabinet, was for ”making treason odious” and dealing with the insurgent States as conquered provinces that had forfeited all rights once held under the Const.i.tution and were ent.i.tled only to such treatment as the Government chose to give them.

Lincoln's ideas were very different. His mind was occupied with formulating a policy having for its object the welfare of the Southern people and the restoration of the rebellious States to the Union. His broad and statesmanlike views were outlined, the day after the public address just referred to, in discussing Secretary Welles's plans for convening the legislature of Virginia. Says Mr. Welles in his Diary: ”His idea was that the members of the legislature, comprising the prominent and influential men of their respective counties, had better come together and undo their own work. Civil government must be reestablished, he said, as soon as possible; there must be courts, and law and order, or society would be broken up, the disbanded armies would turn into robber bands and guerillas, which we must strive to prevent.

These were the reasons why he wished prominent Virginians who had the confidence of the people to come together and turn themselves and their neighbors into good Union men.” Lincoln had no thought of leaving any of these questions to the military authorities. In March he had directed a despatch from Stanton to Grant, saying: ”The President wishes you to have no conference with General Lee, unless it be for the capitulation of his army, or on some other minor and purely military matter. He instructs me to say that you are not to decide, discuss, or confer upon any political question. Such questions the President _holds in his own hands_, and will submit them to no military conferences or conventions.”

During his meeting with Grant at Petersburg the President revealed to the General many of his plans for the rehabilitation of the South, and it could easily be seen that a spirit of magnanimity was uppermost in his heart. And at the conference with Grant, Sherman, and Porter, on board the ”River Queen,” the same subject was broached. ”Though I cannot attempt to recall the words spoken by any one of the persons present on that occasion,” says General Sherman, ”I know we talked generally about what was to be done when Lee's and Johnston's armies were beaten and dispersed. On this point Mr. Lincoln was very full. He said that he had long thought of it, that he hoped this end could be reached without more bloodshed, but in any event he wanted us to get the men of the Southern armies disarmed and back to their homes; that he contemplated no revenge, no harsh measures, but quite the contrary, and that their suffering and hards.h.i.+ps during the war would make them the more submissive to law.” Says Hon. George Bancroft: ”It was the nature of Mr.

Lincoln to forgive. When hostilities ceased he who had always sent forth the flag with every one of its stars in the field was eager to receive back his returning countrymen.”

One of the last stories of personal interviews with President Lincoln relates to his feeling of clemency for the men lately in rebellion. It is told by Senator Henderson of Missouri. ”About the middle of March, 1865,” says Senator Henderson, ”I went to the White House to ask the President to pardon a number of men who had been languis.h.i.+ng in Missouri prisons for various offenses, all political. Some of them had been my schoolmates, and their mothers and sisters and sweethearts had persisted in appeals that I should use my influence for their release. Since it was evident to me that the Confederacy was in its last throes, I felt that the pardon of most of these prisoners would do more good than harm.

I had separated them, according to the gravity of their offenses, into three cla.s.ses; and handing the first list to him, I said, 'Mr.

President, the session of the Senate is closed, and I am about to start for home. The war is virtually over. Grant is pretty certain to get Lee and his army, and Sherman is plainly able to take care of Johnston. In my opinion the best way to prevent guerilla warfare at the end of organized resistance will be to show clemency to these Southern sympathizers.' Lincoln shook his head and said, 'Henderson, I am deeply indebted to you, and I want to show it; but don't ask me at this time to pardon rebels. I can't do it. People are continually blaming me for being too lenient. Don't encourage such fellows by inducing me to turn loose a lot of men who perhaps ought to be hanged.' I answered, 'Mr.

President, these prisoners and their friends tell me that for them the war is over; and it will surely have a good influence now to let them go.' He replied, 'Henderson, my conscience tells me that I must not do it.' But I persisted. 'Mr. President, you _should_ do it. It is necessary for good feeling in Missouri that these people be released.'

'If I sign this list as a whole, will you be responsible for the future good behavior of these men?' he asked. 'Yes,' I replied, 'I will.' 'Then I'll take the risk.' He wrote the word _Pardoned_, signed the order of release, and returned the paper to me. 'Thank you, Mr. President,' I said, 'but that is not all. I have another list.' 'You're not going to make me let loose another lot!' he exclaimed. 'Yes,' I answered, 'and my argument is the same as before. The guilt of these men is doubtful.

Mercy must be the policy of peace.' With the only words approaching profanity that I ever heard him utter, he exclaimed, '_I'll be durned if I don't sign it!_ Now, Henderson,' he said, as he handed me the list, 'remember that you are responsible to me for these men, and if they don't behave '_I'll put you in prison for their sins._'”

Lincoln's whole feeling toward the vanquished Southern people was one of peace and magnanimity. While many were clamoring for the execution of the Southern leaders, and especially Jefferson Davis, Lincoln said, only a day or two before his death: ”This talk about Mr. Davis wearies me. I hope he will mount a fleet horse, reach the sh.o.r.es of the Gulf of Mexico, and ride _so far into its waters_ that we shall never see him again.” And then he told a pat story--perhaps his last--of a boy in Springfield, ”who saved up his money and bought a 'c.o.o.n,' which, after the novelty wore off, became a great nuisance. He was one day leading him through the streets, and had his hands full to keep clear of the little vixen, who had torn his clothes half off him. At length he sat down on the curb-stone, completely f.a.gged out. A man pa.s.sing was stopped by the lad's disconsolate appearance, and asked the matter. 'Oh,' was the only reply, 'this c.o.o.n is such a _trouble_ to me!' 'Why don't you get rid of him, then?' said the gentleman. '_Hush_!' said the boy, 'don't you see he is gnawing his rope off? I am going to let him do it, and then I will go home and tell the folks _that he got away from me_.'”

At the last Cabinet meeting ever attended by Lincoln, held in the morning of the day on which he was shot, the subject of Reconstruction was again uppermost, and various plans were presented and discussed.

Secretary Stanton brought forward a plan or ordinance which he said he had prepared with much care and after a great deal of reflection. It was arranged that a copy of this should be furnished to each member of the Cabinet, for criticism and suggestion. ”In the meantime,” says Secretary Welles, ”we were requested by the President to deliberate and carefully consider the proposition. He remarked that this was _the great question_ now before us, and _we must soon begin to act_.” What that action would have been had Lincoln lived--what wrong and misery would have been spared to the South and shame and dishonor to the North--no one can doubt who comprehends the fibre of that kindly, just, and indomitable soul.

CHAPTER XXIX

The Last of Earth--Events of the Last Day of Lincoln's Life--The Last Cabinet Meeting--The Last Drive with Mrs. Lincoln--Incidents of the Afternoon--Riddance to Jacob Thompson--A Final Act of Pardon--The Fatal Evening--The Visit to the Theatre--The a.s.sa.s.sin's Shot--A Scene of Horror--Particulars of the Crime--The Dying President--A Nation's Grief--Funeral Obsequies--The Return to Illinois--At Rest in Oak Ridge Cemetery.

It is something to be ever gratefully remembered, that the last day of Lincoln's life was filled with suns.h.i.+ne. His cares and burdens slipped from him like a garment, and his spirit was filled with a blessed and benignant peace.

On the morning of that fatal Friday, the 14th day of April, the President had a long conversation at breakfast with his son Robert, then a member of Grant's staff, who had just arrived from the front with additional particulars of Lee's surrender, of which event he had been a witness. The President listened with close attention to the interesting recital; then, taking up a portrait of General Lee, which his son had brought him, he placed it on the table before him, where he scanned it long and thoughtfully. Presently he said: ”It is a good face. It is the face of a n.o.ble, brave man. I am glad that the war is over at last.”

Looking upon Robert, he continued: ”Well, my son, you have returned safely from the front. The war is now closed, and we will soon live in peace with the brave men who have been fighting against us. I trust that the era of good feeling has returned, and that henceforth we shall live in harmony together.”

After breakfast the President received Speaker Colfax, spending an hour or more in discussing his plans regarding the adjustment of matters in the South. This was followed by an interview with Hon. John P. Hale, the newly appointed Minister to Spain, and by calls of congratulation from members of Congress and old friends from Illinois. Afterwards he took a short drive with General Grant, who had just come to the city to consult regarding the disbandment of the army and the parole of prisoners. The people were wild with enthusiasm, and wherever the President and General Grant appeared they were greeted with cheers, the clapping of hands, waving of handkerchiefs, and every possible demonstration of delight.

At the Cabinet meeting held at noon the President was accompanied by General Grant. The meeting is thus described by one who was present, Secretary Welles: ”Congratulations were interchanged, and earnest inquiry was made whether any information had been received from General Sherman. General Grant, who was invited to remain, said he was expecting hourly to hear from Sherman, and had a good deal of anxiety on the subject. The President remarked that the news would come soon and come favorably, he had no doubt, for he had last night his usual dream which had preceded nearly every important event of the war. I inquired the particulars of this remarkable dream. He said it was in my department--it related to the water; that he seemed to be in a singular and indescribable vessel, but always the same, and that he was moving with great rapidity toward a dark and indefinite sh.o.r.e; that he had had this singular dream preceding the firing on Sumter, the battles of Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg, Stone River, Vicksburg, Wilmington, etc.

General Grant remarked, with some emphasis and asperity, that Stone River was no victory--that a few such victories would have ruined the country, and he knew of no important results from it. The President said that perhaps he should not altogether agree with him, but whatever might be the facts his singular dream preceded that fight. Victory did not always follow his dream, but the event and results were important. He had no doubt that a battle had taken place or was about being fought, 'and Johnston will be beaten, for I had this strange dream again last night. It must relate to Sherman; my thoughts are in that direction, and _I know of no other very important event which is likely just now to occur_.'” ”Great events,” adds Mr. Welles in his Diary, ”did indeed follow; for within a few hours the good and gentle as well as truly great man who narrated his dream closed forever his earthly career.”

After the Cabinet meeting the President took a drive with Mrs. Lincoln, expressing a wish that no one should accompany them. His heart was filled with a solemn joy, which awoke memories of the past to mingle with hopes for the future; and in this subdued moment he desired to be alone with the one who stood nearest to him in human relations.h.i.+p. In the course of their talk together, he said: ”Mary, we have had a hard time of it since we came to Was.h.i.+ngton; but the war is over, and with G.o.d's blessing we may hope for four years of peace and happiness, and then we will go back to Illinois and pa.s.s the rest of our lives in quiet.” He spoke, says Mr. Arnold, ”of his old Springfield home; and recollections of his early days, his little brown cottage, the law office, the court room, the green bag for his briefs and law papers, his adventures when riding the circuit, came thronging back to him. The tension under which he had for so long been kept was removed, and he was like a boy out of school. 'We have laid by,' said he to his wife, 'some money, and during this term we will try and save up more, but shall not have enough to support us. We will go back to Illinois, and I will open a law office at Springfield or Chicago, and practise law, and at least do enough to help give us a livelihood.' Such were the dreams, the day-dreams of Lincoln, on the last day of his earthly life.”

Mr. Neill, the President's private secretary, states that between three and four o'clock of this day he had occasion to seek the President to procure his signature to a paper. ”I found,” says Mr. Neill, ”that he had retired to the private parlor of the house for lunch. While I was looking over the papers on his table, to see if I could find the desired commission, he came back, eating an apple. I told him what I was looking for, and as I talked he placed his hand upon the bell-pull. I said: 'For whom are you going to ring?' Placing his hand upon my coat, he spoke but two words: 'Andrew Johnson.' 'Then,' I said, 'I will come in again.' As I was leaving the room, the Vice-President had been ushered in, and the President advanced and took him by the hand.”

Charles A. Dana, the a.s.sistant Secretary of War, says that his last recollections of President Lincoln are indelibly a.s.sociated with the seditious Jacob Thompson. ”Late in the afternoon,” says Mr. Dana, ”a despatch was received at the War Department from the provost marshal of Portland, Maine, saying that he had received information that Jacob Thompson would arrive in Portland during that night, in order to take there the Canadian steamer which was to sail for Liverpool. On reading this despatch to Mr. Stanton, the latter said, 'Order him to be arrested--but no; you had better take it over to the President.' I found Mr. Lincoln in the inner room of his business office at the White House, with his coat off, was.h.i.+ng his hands preparatory to a drive. 'h.e.l.lo,'

said he, 'what is it?' Listening to the despatch, he asked, 'What does Stanton say?' 'He thinks he ought to be arrested,' I replied. 'Well,' he continued, drawling his words, 'I rather guess not. When you have an elephant on your hands, and he wants to run away, better let him run.'”

During the afternoon the President signed a pardon for a soldier sentenced to be shot for desertion; remarking, as he did so, ”Well, I think the boy can do us more good above ground than under ground.” He also approved an application for the discharge, on taking the oath of allegiance, of a Southern prisoner, on whose pet.i.tion he wrote, ”_Let it be done_.” This act of mercy was his last official order.

It had been decided early in the day that the President and Mrs. Lincoln would attend Ford's Theatre in the evening, to witness the play of ”The American Cousin.” Lincoln had invited General Grant to accompany his party to the theatre, saying that the people would expect to see him and should not be disappointed. But the General had declined, as Mrs. Grant was anxious to start that afternoon to visit their children, who were at school in Burlington, New Jersey.

As the hour approached for leaving for the theatre, the President was engaged in a conversation with two friends--Speaker Colfax and Hon.