The last move was made by Grant on Rich-mond. He felt that one more blow would bring the war to a close. He sent out word to Sher-i-dan, "When day dawns push round the foe, and get to his rear." Two days more our troops were in the streets of Rich-mond. When Lee found he could not hold his place, he sent word by the wires to Jef-fer-son Da-vis at Rich-mond. Da-vis was the man the South had made their chief, and he was in church when the news came to him. He read these words: "My lines are cut at three points. Rich-mond must be left to night."
Da-vis left the church, and the news spread at once that the town was lost. There was fright on all sides, and the streets were soon full of men who knew not what to do. The means for flight were small, and a poor cart and horse would have brought a large sum of gold. The ships were set on fire or blown up, and some of the stores of the town were in a blaze. Oh, what a night! All sought to fly, but few had means to go.
The next day some black troops were the first to march in the town. This was the real end of the war. Gen-er-al Lee did all he could to save his men; but they were so faint with want of food that they could not march, and so weak they could not hold their guns. So he gave up all at last to Gen-er-al Grant, and the whole South had to yield.
This war had cost the land more than you could count in gold and lives. But it had made the slave free; and we know that we shall have the curse of the slave trade in our land no more. And it had shown that the creed of States Rights was not the best one, for if we were cut up in parts we would be weak, while if we stay as one, we will be strong. Our true strength, then, is to hold fast the bond that binds all the States, North and South, East and West, in one.
There was great joy, and all gave thanks at the North when the news that the war had come to an end was borne on the wires. Lin-coln had held his course in a firm, brave way. He had said in a speech in New York, when he was on his way to take his place, "When the time comes for me to speak, I shall then take the ground that I think is right—right for the North, for the South, for the East, for the West, for all our land."
And so he had done. The war was a grief to him. He said, "We did not think this war would last so long. Both sides read the same Word of God, and both pray to Him to aid in a war on those who are bound to them by near ties. We hope, we pray, that this scourge of war may soon pass. But if God wills it should stay till each drop of blood drawn by the lash shall be paid with one drawn with the sword, it must be said, 'Shall not the Judge of all the world do right?'"
Five days from the time that the news of joy came in a flash on the wires, Lin-coln was dead. He had been shot while he sat in his box, at the play, by a man of the name of Wilkes Booth. This man had by some means got in the box and made the door fast. When he had shot Lin-coln, he sprang from the box to the stage, but caught his foot in one of our flags, and broke his leg. He had a horse at the door, and got off; but was at last found in a barn, where he stood at bay. They set the barn on fire to drive him out; but he still stood his ground, and fought till the last, when he fell, shot by one of our men.
Those who stood by the bed side of Lin-coln saw that there was no hope. All the land was full of gloom, when the sad news came. As his corpse was borne in a train to his old home, the towns were hung with black on the whole route, and most men wore the badge of grief. Those who had not been warm friends of Lin-coln in his life, felt a shock at his death, for they knew a brave, true man had gone.
CHAPTER XIII.
PEACE ONCE MORE.
At the time of Lin-coln's death, there had been a sort of plot to kill more of the head men of the land. Sew-ard had been shot in his own house, and there was a great fear in Wash-ing-ton; for no one knew how far this plot might reach.