So, when Ganson of New York, and other Democrats, voted "aye," the applause was renewed again and again, and still louder again, when, with smiling face—which corroborated the thrilling, fast-spreading, whisper, that "the Amendment is safe!"—Speaker Colfax directed the Clerk to call his name, as a member of the House, and, in response to that call, voted "aye!"
Then came dead silence, as the Clerk passed the result to the Speaker— during which a pin might have been heard to drop,—broken at last by the Speaker's ringing voice: "The Constitutional majority of two-thirds having voted in the affirmative, the Joint Resolution is passed."
[The enrolled Resolution received the approval and signature of the President, Feb. 1, 1865,]
The words had scarcely left the Speaker's lips, when House and galleries sprang to their feet, clapping their hands, stamping their feet, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and cheering so loudly and so long that it seemed as if this great outburst of enthusiasm—indulged in, in defiance of all parliamentary rules—would never cease!
In his efforts to control it, Speaker Colfax hammered the desk until he nearly broke his mallet. Finally, by 4 o'clock, P.M., after several minutes of useless effort—during which the pounding of the mallet was utterly lost in the noisy enthusiasm and excitement, in which both the Freedom-loving men and women of the Land, there present, participated—the Speaker at last succeeded in securing a lull.
Advantage was instantly taken of it, by the successor of the dead Owen Lovejoy, Mr. Ingersoll of Illinois, his young face flushing with the glow of patriotism, as he cried: "Mr. Speaker! In honor of this Immortal and Sublime Event I move that the House do now adjourn." The Speaker declared the motion carried, amid renewed demonstrations of enthusiasm.
During all these uncontrollable ebullitions of popular feeling in behalf of personal Liberty and National Freedom and strength, the Democratic members of the House had sat, many of them moving uneasily in their seats, with chagrin painted in deep lines upon their faces, while others were bolt upright, as if riveted to their chairs, looking straight before them at the Speaker, in a vain attempt, belied by the pallid anger of their set countenances, to appear unconscious of the storm of popular feeling breaking around them, which they now doggedly perceived might be but a forecast of the joyful enthusiasm which on that day, and on the morrow, would spread from one end of the Land to the other.
Harris, of Maryland, made a sort of "Last Ditch" protest against adjournment, by demanding the "yeas and nays" on the motion to adjourn. The motion was, however, carried, by 121 yeas to 24 nays; and, as the members left their places in the Hall—many of them to hurry with their hearty congratulations to President Lincoln at the White House—the triumph, in the Halls of our National Congress, of Freedom and Justice and Civilization, over Slavery and Tyranny and Barbarism, was already being saluted by the booming of one hundred guns on Capitol Hill.
How large a share was Mr. Lincoln's, in that triumph, these pages have already sufficiently indicated. Sweet indeed must have been the joy that thrilled his whole being, when, sitting in the White House, he heard the bellowing artillery attest the success of his labors in behalf of Emancipation. Proud indeed must he have felt when, the following night, in response to the loud and jubilant cries of "Lincoln!" "Lincoln!" "Abe Lincoln!" "Uncle Abe!" and other affectionate calls, from a great concourse of people who, with music, had assembled outside the White House to give him a grand serenade and popular ovation, he appeared at an open window, bowed to the tumult of their acclamations, and declared that "The great Job is ended!"—adding, among other things, that the occasion was one fit for congratulation, and, said he, "I cannot but congratulate all present—myself, the Country, and the whole World—upon this great moral victory. * * * This ends the Job!"
Substantially the job was ended. There was little doubt, after such a send off, by the President and by Congress, in view of the character of the State Legislatures, as well as the temper of the People, that the requisite number of States would be secured to ratify the Thirteenth Amendment. Already, on the 1st of February, that is to say, on the very day of this popular demonstration at the Executive Mansion, the President's own State, Illinois, had ratified it—and this circumstance added to the satisfaction and happiness which beamed from, and almost made beautiful, his homely face.