In the ear-ly morn of the day on which the foe’s troops had marched out of Rich-mond, the or-der was giv-en to burn the bridge o-ver which they passed. At the same time, flames burst from win-dows and roofs of tall build-ings, and in a few hours 800 of them were on fire.
The poor folks of the town had their arms full of house-hold goods, and stacks of beds, ta-bles, and chairs were piled up in o-pen pla-ces. Groups of peo-ple stood still in their fright, for their hou-ses were in ash-es and they had no food or clothes.
A great hush, at last, fell on all, as the Pres-i-dent’s coach was driv-en to a stand in the “Square.” Then Lin-coln rose, faced the great throng, and spread out his hands as a min-is-ter would when giv-ing a bless-ing. Not a sound was heard for more than a min-ute. Then the hor-ses went on and Lin-coln was gone.
One more vis-it was made by the Pres-i-dent to Rich-mond. He then had his wife and his son “Tad” with him. At that time he talked with Judge Camp-bell a-bout the terms he would make with the foe. The Judge had his own i-de-a of what he would like. Mr. Lin-coln was not of the same mind, but said, “I will give you in black and white my on-ly terms.”
PRESIDENT LINCOLN AND HIS SON “TAD.”
These were plain and sim-ple. Lin-coln was kind but he was firm.
Af-ter that the Lin-colns went to For-tress Mon-roe. There, though the Pres-i-dent was wea-ry and full of care, he spent hours with the sick and those in pain. He talked of the grand news, of the Un-ion saved by the brave “Boys in Blue,” and of their homes and dear ones they would soon see.
But when the Un-ion troops were on their way North, a few weeks lat-er, May 23, 1865, and 65,000 of them in full strength and health marched in di-vis-ions, in close lines, round the cap-i-tol at Wash-ing-ton, A-bra-ham Lin-coln, the “well be-loved,” was not there to see them. His work was done. He had gone to his Re-ward.
