The supper scene was one never to be forgotten. Aside from its luxury and splendor, there was so much that was ridiculously laughable connected with it, one naturally looks back upon it in keen amusement. The tables having been instantly filled up, all the spaces between the large glass cases containing the office property were soon crowded to their utmost capacity. Many a fair creature dropped upon the benches with exclamations of delight, while their attendants sought to supply them from the table, to which they had to fight their way. Those who could not get seats stood around in groups, or sank down upon the floor in utter abandonment from fatigue.
It was curious to sit and watch the crowd, to hear the gay laugh, the busy hum of conversation, and the jingle of plates, spoons, and glasses; to see hands uplifted, bearing aloft huge dishes of salads and creams, loaves of cake and stores of candies, not infrequently losing plentiful portions on the way. Many an elegant dress received its donation of cream, many a tiny slipper bore away crushed sweets and meats, and lay among fragments of glass and plates upon the floor.
Meanwhile, it was "thundering all around the heavens," and every night General Grant, in his humble headquarters at City Point, knew exactly what had been done. In his midnight despatches to President Lincoln which were telegraphed all over the loyal States, he narrated the day's success, giving full credit, when necessary, to the original genius of Sherman, the daring pluck of Sheridan, the cool determination of Thomas, the military ability of Terry, and the sagacious gallantry of Schofield, but never alluding to himself as having directed these subordinates on their respective paths to victory.
General Lee and his brave army saw that the end was at hand. They could no longer be deceived by the verbose platitudes of politicians about foreign intervention or strategic purposes, and they saw the stars and stripes approaching on every hand. For four long years they had fought for their hearths and homes with a bravery that had elicited the admiration of their opponents, but steady, ceaseless fighting had thinned their ranks and there were no more men to take their places. They had been out-manoeuvred, out-marched, and out- generaled, while hard knocks and repeated blows were daily diminishing their commands. At length, Richmond was captured, and General Lee formally surrendered at Appomattox Court-House, ending the greatest civil war recorded in history.
As the Union armies advanced, thousands of unemployed and impecunious colored people sought refuge in the District of Columbia. Gathering up their scanty chattels, they made their way from the houses of their masters to Washington, the Mecca of their imaginations, with a firm belief that they would there find freedom and plenty. It was a leap in the dark, but they imagined it a leap from darkness into light, and when they reached the national metropolis, with its public buildings and its busy throng, they believed that at last they had entered the promised land. Free from care at the first, they loitered and lounged and slept and laughed in sunny places. But no feast was offered them; they were invited to no hospitable homes; the men were no longer offered a few new Treasury notes of small value if they would enlist, and be counted on the quota of some Northern town, which would pay the agents five hundred or six hundred dollars for each recruit thus obtained. They were strangers in a strange land, despised by their own people who were residents, and crowded into stable lofts and rude hovels, where many of them, before they had fairly tasted the blessings of freedom, sickened and suffered and died.
On the night of Thursday, the 13th of April, 1865, Mr. Lincoln made his last address to the people who loved him so well. Richmond had fallen, Davis had fled, Lee had surrendered, and on the previous day the formal laying down of arms had taken place. The White House was illuminated, as were the other public buildings, and deafening shouts arose from the crowds assembled outside, jubilant over the glorious victories. Mr. Lincoln had written out some remarks, knowing well that great importance would be attached to whatever he said. These he read to the rejoicing throng from loose sheets, holding a candle in his hand as he read. As he finished each page he would throw it to the ground, where it was picked up by Master Thad, who was at his father's side, and who occasionally shouted, "Give me another paper!"
When Mr. Lincoln had concluded his speech, he said: "Now I am about to call upon the band for a tune that our adversaries over the way have endeavored to appropriate. But we fairly captured it yesterday and the Attorney-General gave me his legal opinion that it is now our property. So I ask the band to play 'Dixie!'"
[Facsimile] your obtservt R ELee ROBERT EDWARD LEE, born at Stratford, Westmoreland County, Virginia, January 19th, 1807; graduated with first honors at West Point in 1829; served in the Mexican War; resigned in 1861, and was, early in 1862, appointed commander of the armies about Richmond; early in 1865 was made Commander-in-Chief of all the Confederate forces; surrendered at Appomattox, April 9th, 1865; became President of Washington College at Lexington, Virginia, where he died October 12th, 1870.
CHAPTER XV. PLUNGED INTO SORROW.
Washington City was delirious with gladness when General Grant "came marching home," and the telegraph wires from every part of the country recently in rebellion vibrated with the tidings of victory and submission. Orders from the War Department went out over the loyal North proclaiming the absolute overthrow of the Rebellion, the return of peace, the stopping of recruiting, the raising of the blockade, the reduction of national expenditures, and the removal of all military restrictions upon trade and commerce, so far as might be consistent with public safety. Drafting had been one of the most grievous burdens of the war, but it had been rigorously pressed in all States which had not otherwise furnished their quotas of troops. When the surrender occurred, the dread wheel was in operation in many places, and drawn men were in custody of the proper officials preparing to go to the front. But all this was stopped, and none were happier than those who involuntarily had been held thus for military duty, but who now became free.