“I'm going right on to Richmond now!” and it chagrined the officer in charge so deeply to think that they could not accept it as a truth, that he had the men drawn up in line, some 6,000 strong, in the pine woods through which they were marching, and appointed officers to ride up and down the line and announce it officially. And then what a roar and thundering of cheers aroused the echoes in those old trees! No more weariness then, no more stumbling and grumbling, but they made all haste to the town to which they were nearest, and set up a playful bombardment with blank charges, to celebrate the event, much to the rejoicing of the citizens there, who were as glad as they.
To the worn-out, sunburned soldiers it was good news, and as they gathered in groups loud rejoicing and eager discussion was heard among them. To Ralph it brought the grateful thought that the dawn of peace was near, and the Union would once again be restored, and his heart was full of a quiet thankfulness that words could not express.
But alas, for the jubilant people—for those who were rejoicing, and to whom a feeling of relief had come, because there was no more war. Those who had so bitterly opposed each other on fields of battle, whose differences had received a “baptism of blood,” met daily, more like brothers than late enemies. True, bitterness and disappointment rankled in some hearts, but it is also true that all over our broad land, both North and South, men rejoiced together that they could return to the homes they had been so long exiles from, and once more take up the thread of social and business life, with a surety that it would be no more severed But even while the North was trembling with excess of happiness, a terrible shadow darkened the brilliancy of the victory—the four years of struggle and bloodshed were obliterated, so it seemed, by a wave of sorrow that swept over the heart of the North, paralyzing its throb of ecstasy. Abraham Lincoln, the friend of all mankind, whose life was free from petty vindictiveness, and whose whole aim was the restoration of the republic on a fair and just basis, a grand and unselfish man, was struck down by the hand of an assassin—J. Wilkes Booth. The President was shot while sitting with his wife and other friends, in a box at Ford's Theater, Washington, April 14, 1865, and he died the next morning. The entire nation was dumb with grief and consternation. On the heels of sweet and gentle peace came the dread question—What will be the outcome? A nation had been plunged into mourning by the mad act of a fanatic.
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At once the War Department issued a poster, offering a large reward for the capture of the murderer, and on April 26 he was tracked to an old barn on Garrett's farm, twenty miles from Fredericksburg, with a shattered leg. He refused to surrender, and the building was set on fire, and he was shot in attempting to escape, and captured. He had received a mortal wound, from which he died.
The surrender of General Lee was followed by that of all the principal armies of the Confederacy; the last to throw down their arms being the command of General Kirby Smith, on the 26th of May. Thus very little was left for the Government to do, save to reconstruct the shattered portions of our land, to repress wandering bands of outlaws, and to maintain order.
