Mothers wept for joy for the “dear boys” who would soon “come marching home.” Wives with anxious hearts anticipated the moment when they should welcome their heroic husbands’ return. Children waited impatiently to hear “father’s” well-known footstep. Even those who had not nothing to expect, whose dear ones were numbered with the slain, shared in the general joy.
All were happy—the white man that the war was over, the black man that he was free. But this rejoicing is of short continuance. Treason calls for another victim—the country’s foremost man and best. While the children rejoice, the father himself is stricken down. The nation’s life is sealed with the blood of its martyr head! The fruit of those long years of toil will be reaped by others. The work for which he was raised up being accomplished, he enters into his rest; and this almost universal rejoicing is succeeded by a world-wide grief. On the night of the 14th an assassin commits the dark and villainous deed that plunges the nation into the deepest woe! The next morning, at twenty-two minutes past seven, the solemn tolling of bells announces the death of Abraham Lincoln!
The following is an extract from my journal of April 15th, 1865: “Soon the sad tidings will be borne with the speed of lightning to the remotest part of our country and of the civilized world. The wild excitement which might be expected seems hushed to silence for want of words to express the deep emotions which stir the heart. Many anticipate a riot before morning. Strict orders have been issued from the War Department, death being the penalty of a traitorous sentiment uttered. No one is allowed to leave or enter the city. Trains have stopped running, except for the mail; boats can neither land at nor leave the wharf.
“J. Wilkes Booth—a stage-actor—is supposed to be the murderer. A large reward has been offered for his arrest. If he is caught during the present state of excitement, the law will be robbed of its due, for the cry of every loyal heart is: ‘Avenge the death of our President.’ Washington, so recently decorated with flags, is now draped in mourning; those starry banners, but yesterday so proudly floating in the breeze, now droop at half-mast, and are wearing the emblems of woe. Only last evening the country was bewildered with joy; to-day the nation is bowed with a sorrow so great ‘that the huge earth can scarce support it.’ All nature mourns. Even the elements seem to share in the general gloom. Darkening clouds fill the heavens, and water the earth with their tears. Oh, can we believe that this black cloud which hangs over our national horizon has a ‘silver lining?’ Has this dark picture a bright side? No ray of sunshine is seen on its gloomy background. In the death of Abraham Lincoln the country has sustained an irreparable loss. His place none can ever fill. A great and good man has fallen. In him were exemplified the true principles of Christianity: he was kind, merciful, forgiving, and generous to a fault. How truthfully has it been said, that ‘he was great in goodness, and good in greatness.’ Oh, how cruel! after four years of trial and burden, such as none other ever bore, that Treason should take his precious life; but he lived to see that victory, final and complete, had perched upon our banner. If life consists in deeds, not years, how few have lived as long as he.”
It was my sad privilege to see the remains of our lamented President twice while lying in state—once at the White House, and again at the Capitol. Emblems of mourning were everywhere visible. Darkened rooms, with gas dimly burning, added to the oppressive gloom. Suppressed sobs and bursts of grief were heard, as one after another took the farewell look of him they loved. Strong men, unaccustomed to tears, wept beside his bier.
He was stricken down in the midst of his usefulness, at a time when the nation greatly needed his wise counsels and righteous administration.
His funeral obsequies were observed in Washington, Wednesday, the 19th instant. The solemnities of the occasion I will not attempt to describe; that has already been done by abler pens. That long procession, consisting of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, with various bands; the Marine Corps and band; officers of the army and navy; Congressmen; members of the Cabinet; the Diplomatic Corps; various orders and lodges; Governors of States; the clergy, of all denominations; clerks from the different departments, and thousands of private citizens, all wearing the badge of mourning; flags and banners, draped and at half-mast; the dirge-like music; the tolling of bells and firing of guns—rendered it the most solemn scene ever witnessed on this continent. None but an eye-witness can form any adequate conception of that solemn pageantry. Thousands thronged the sidewalks, windows, verandahs; and trees were filled with weeping spectators.
The morning of the 21st, the remains were removed to Baltimore, en route for his Western home and final resting-place. The busy world moves on, and, though we see his face no more, he will long live in the memory of a grateful people. History will love to record his virtues. His name will be handed down to future generations, linked with that of Washington, “and many will rise up and call him blessed.”
Well has it been said, that, “in the death of Abraham Lincoln, the world has lost its greatest philanthropist, the nation its purest patriot, the people their best and kindest friend. His life was the brightest page in our country’s history, his death the nation’s deepest sorrow.” But he has left a bright record. Oh! that all, not only as a nation, but as individuals, might emulate his example, cultivate his virtues, live for God and humanity as did Abraham Lincoln. “He lived not only for a day, but for all time. His life was gentle, his death peaceful, his future all glory.”