HOW PRESIDENT LINCOLN RECEIVED THE NEWS OF SHERIDAN’S VICTORY.
I WAS personally acquainted with President Lincoln, and sat talking with him in his public office when the telegram was brought in announcing General Sheridan’s second victory in the Shenandoah Valley, which resulted in the defeat of General Early.
When the messenger came in, Mr. Lincoln was talking very earnestly; and although he laid down the telegram with the announcement, “An important telegram, Mr. President,” Mr. Lincoln took no notice of it.
The messenger went as far as the door of the room, and seeing that Mr. Lincoln had not taken up the telegram he returned, and laying it a little nearer to him on the desk, repeated,—
“An important telegram, Mr. President.”
But as the president kept on talking, and took no notice of it, the messenger retired.
He was at that time talking of the sanitary condition of the army; the relation of food to health, and the influence of the special-diet kitchen system in restoring the soldiers to health, and its effect in lessening the number of furloughs.
I, too, talked earnestly; as, while pushing the work of the special-diet kitchens, I believed most heartily in furloughs.
But earnest as I was, I was exceedingly anxious to know the contents of that telegram.
There was during that interview, that far away look in his eyes, that those seeing could never forget.
At last he paused and took up the despatch, and after looking over it read it aloud.
“This is good news indeed,” he said, and a smile lit up his rugged features as he went on with his comments.
“This Sheridan,” he said, “is a little Irishman, but he is a big fighter.”
Soon after I arose to take my leave. He, too, arose and stood like a giant before me, as he extended his hand, and said, “Well, success to you. Come in again.”
I did not realize his greatness at that time, but now all the world knows that Abraham Lincoln will stand out a colossal figure as long as American history is read. A thousand years will not dim the lustre of his name or fame.
When his armies were pushed back till they built their camp-fires under the shadow of the nation’s Capitol, and treason glared at him from the near palaces, and the ship of state rocked in the trough of the waves of civil war and social revolution, he stood firm and strong at the helm, with calm, unwavering trust in God. In a rougher mould, he possessed the majesty of a Clay, the sagacity of a Franklin, the wit of a Ben Jonson, the benevolence of a Howard, and the social qualities of the Adamses. No heart in all the land throbbed with a truer, kindlier charity towards all, than did the great heart of Abraham Lincoln when the assassin’s bullet stopped its generous beating. Among philanthropists, in all ages, Lincoln will stand out as The Great Emancipator, who brought liberty to an enslaved and cruelly wronged race; and Right will laurel-crown him as a martyr.
No one bullet ever went forth on a deadlier mission, or struck so heavy a blow to friends and foes alike, as did the bullet that laid Abraham Lincoln low in the dust.
Victor and vanquished, who had come up out of a great struggle with their garments rolled in blood to ground their arms at his feet, and who had received his benediction of peace and good-will to all, were alike mourners when the assassin’s bullet did its deadly work.
It was as though there was one dead in every house. The mourners went about the streets uncomforted. Men forgot their love for gold and their lust for power; statesmen groped about like blind men for some hand to lead. The world was in mourning; for all the world knew that he had come to the kingdom for such a time as that.
The lives of such men as Abraham Lincoln are measured by deeds, and not by length of days. His work was wrought in a few short years. He answered the question of the wisdom and solidity of a republican form of government by hurling its betrayers from power. He established human liberty on the immutable rock of intelligent public sentiment. When he proclaimed above the sleeping heroes of Gettysburg, “a government of the people, by the people, and for the people,” he sounded forth an endless jubilee that has echoed and re-echoed through the world, till the people of every kindred and tongue have heard the glad tidings, and human slavery has been branded as a crime, and outlawed by all the civilized nations of the earth.
The saviour of his people, the liberator of the oppressed, the great-hearted friend of humanity, he will stand out a colossal figure in history while men love liberty more than life, while men love freedom more than chains, and while human sympathy links us to each other and draws us toward God and heaven.
It seems fitting, as there was not one of all the millions who loved him, and who would have shielded him at any cost, but knew not of his peril, that the flag he loved should have become his avenger, and caught the foot of the assassin in its loyal folds, and hurled him away to certain death. That flag, kept securely in a glass case, is held sacred in the treasure-house of the nation. The swift-footed years have gone by, till twenty-nine have passed; but Lincoln is not forgotten: his memory is as fresh and sweet as it was at the first.
The robins come to build their nests, and the bluebirds sing their sweet spring songs, just as they did twenty-nine years ago this April-time; but he is not forgotten, for his work goes on. The flag that Lincoln upheld is the banner honored of all nations, the principles he sustained and taught are more and more becoming the heritage of the world, and will be universal.