CHAPTER XVI. ASSASSINATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Johnson's Maudlin Stump Speech in the Senate—Inauguration of Lincoln for the Second Term—My Trip to the South—Paying off a Church Debt—Meetings to Celebrate the Success of the Union Army— News of the Death of Lincoln—I Attend the Funeral Services—General Johnston's Surrender to General Sherman—Controversy with Secretary Stanton Over the Event—Review of 65,000 Troops in Washington—Care of the Old Soldiers—Annual Pension List of $150,000,000—I am Re- elected to the Senate—The Wade-Davis Bill—Johnson's Treatment of Public Men—His Veto of the Civil Rights Bill—Reorganization of the Rebel States and Their Final Restoration to the Union.
On the 4th of March, 1865, at the inauguration of the President and Vice President elect, a scene occurred in the Senate chamber, which made a serious impression, and was indicative of what was to occur in the future. About eleven o'clock of that day Andrew Johnson, Vice President, was shown into the room in the capitol assigned to the Vice President. He complained of feeling unwell and sent for either whisky or brandy, and must have drunk excessively of it. A few minutes before twelve o'clock he was ushered into the Senate to take the oath of office and to make the usual brief address. He was plainly intoxicated and delivered a stump speech unworthy of the occasion. Before him were assembled all the principal officers of the government and the diplomatic corps. He went on in a maudlin and rambling way for twenty minutes or more, until finally he was suppressed by the suggestion of the secretary that the time for the inauguration had arrived, and he must close.
The procession was formed for the inauguration at the east front of the capitol, where a great multitude was gathered. There Mr. Lincoln delivered his memorable inaugural address. Referring to the condition of the controversy at the time of his former inaugural, he said:
"Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the Union survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came."
He hopefully predicted the result of the war, but he said:
"Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, 'The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.'"
His peroration will always be remembered for its impressive eloquence:
"With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."
Soon after the adjournment I was invited by Secretary Stanton, with many other Senators and our families, to take a trip to the south in the steamer "Baltic." Among those on board were Senators Simon Cameron, Wade, Zach. Chandler, and Foster, of Connecticut, then president pro tempore of the Senate. The sea was exceedingly boisterous. Nearly all on board were sea sick, but none so badly as Wade and Chandler, both of whom, I fear, violated the third commandment, and nearly all the party were in hearty sympathy with them. I was a good sailor and about the only one who escaped the common fate. We visited the leading places of interest along the coast, but especially Charleston, Beaufort and Savannah. Charleston had but recently been evacuated. General Sherman was then on his march through North Carolina. In Charleston everything looked gloomy and sad. I rode on horseback alone through different parts of the city, and was warned by officers not to repeat the ride, as, if my name was known, I would be in danger of being shot.
We arrived in Beaufort on Sunday morning. The town was then full of contrabands. We remained there that day and received an invitation from a negro preacher to attend religious services at his new meeting-house. About fifteen or twenty of the party went to the "meeting-house," a new unfinished skeleton-frame house of considerable size without any plastering—a mere shell. We were shown to seats that had been reserved for us. The rest of the congregation were negroes in every kind of dress and of every shade of color. The scene was very interesting, but the sermon of the preacher was little better than gibberish. He was a quaint old man, wearing goggles and speaking a dialect we could hardly understand. At the close of his sermon he narrated how the meeting-house had been built; that John had hauled the logs, Tom, Dick and Harry, naming them, had contributed their labor, but they were in debt something over $200, and, with a significant glance at our little party, he thought this was a good time to take up a collection. No sooner was this said than Cameron, whispering to me, said: "Let's pay it; I'll give twenty dollars," and when the hat came around, instead of the usual dimes and quarters in ragged currency, it received greenbacks of good denominations. In the meantime the old preacher, highly elated, called upon the audience to sing "John Brown's Body." A feeble, piping voice from an old negro woman started the singing and the rest of the negroes, with loud melodious voices, joined in, and, before it was through, the rest of us joined in. The hat, when returned to the preacher, was found to contain more than fifty dollars in excess of the amount necessary to pay off the debt. Then, with many thanks to us by the preacher, the audience was requested to remain standing until their visitors left.