GEN. U. S. GRANT
The news of the surrender flashed along the waiting lines like wildfire and the Union forces began firing a salute of a hundred guns in honor of the victory. "I at once sent word," says Grant, "to have it stopped. The Confederates were now our prisoners and we did not want to exult over their downfall." This was the spirit of a great man and of a great nation. It was not the soldiers who fought the war who kept its rancors alive after peace had come, It was the politicians, who tore open the old wounds and kept the country bleeding for a dozen years after the Lost Cause was lost.
On the morning of Tuesday, April 10, 1865, Grant and Lee again met between the lines and sitting on horseback talked for half an hour. Then Grant began his journey to Washington. His staff, including Tom, went with him. When they reached their goal, Second-Lieutenant Strong found he was that no longer. For General Wright had done what he had told Tom he meant to do. The recommendation had been heeded. Lincoln himself handed the boy his new commission as a brevet-captain.
"I was glad to sign that, Tom," the President told him, "and even Stanton didn't kick this time."
"You don't know how glad I am to get it, Mr. President," was the reply. "Now I'm a boy-captain, as my great-grandfather was before me."
"I'm not much on pedigrees and ancestry and genealogical trees, my boy," answered Lincoln. "Out West we think more of trees that grow out of the ground than we do of trees that grow on parchment. But you're right to be proud of an ancestry of service to your country. When family pride is based on money or land or social standing, it is one of the most foolish things God Almighty ever laughed at, but when it is based on service, real service, to your country, to your fellowmen, to the world, why, then, Tom, it's one of the biggest and best things in God's kingdom. But remember this, son,"—Lincoln's eyes flashed in their deep sockets—"if a boy has an ancestor who has done big things, the way to be proud of him is to do big things yourself. Living on the glory of what somebody else has done before you is a mighty poor kind of living. I never knew but one man that was perfect and I'd never have known he was if he hadn't told me so. Nobody else ever found it out. But if we can't be perfect, we can grow less imperfect by trying every day to serve our fellowmen. Remember that, Tom."
[CHAPTER XIII]
The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln