One verse in her humorous account of it records, the leniency of Governor Andrew:
Governor A. won’t hang for homicide,
That’s a point that bothers us all.
He must banish ever from his side
Such as murdered the Barnstable Ball.
Our friend had received some criticism for refusing to sign the death warrant of a condemned murderer. He justified his action on the legal ground that, since the man had been judged only on his own confession, it was not right to hang him without a full and fair trial. When the war was over, Governor Andrew retired to private life, resuming the practice of his profession. The strain upon him had been tremendous. He laughingly said: “It’s nip and tuck. I may bust my boiler, or I may not.” Alas! A stroke of apoplexy carried him off while still under fifty years of age. He was as much a victim of the Civil War as if he had died on the field of battle.
On the morning of Saturday, April 19, 1865, came the terrible news of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln and of the murderous attack on Secretary Seward and his son. Evidently there was a plot on foot to kill the chief officials of the national government. To the deep sorrow at the death of the beloved President was added the fear of the unknown evils threatening us and great indignation at the dastardly deed. How wide-spread the plot might be we did not know. Grief for the death of Lincoln was the predominant feeling. The sudden and tragic ending of his career showed his countrymen, as by a flash of light, the nobility of his character and the magnitude of what he had accomplished.
Even the London Punch, which had jeered at the cause of the North during the Civil War, now made such atonement as was possible. I quote a verse of the poem by Douglas Jerrold:
The Old World and the New, from sea to sea,
Utter one voice of sympathy and shame!