A few days after the war ended at Appomattox, a great crowd came to the White House to serenade the President. It was Tuesday evening, April 11, 1865. Mr. Lincoln had written a short address for the occasion. The times were so out of joint and every word was so important that the President could not trust himself to speak off-hand.
A friend stepped out on the northern portico with him to hold the candle by which Mr. Lincoln was to read his speech. Little Tad was with his father, as usual, and when the President had finished reading a page of his manuscript he let it flutter down, like a leaf, or a big white butterfly, for Tad to catch. When the pages came too slowly the boy pulled his father's coat-tail, piping up in a muffled, excited tone:
"Give me 'nother paper, Papa-day."
To the few in the front of the crowd who witnessed this little by-play it seemed ridiculous that the President of the United States should allow any child to behave like that and hamper him while delivering a great address which would wield a national, if not world-wide influence. But little Tad did not trouble his father in the least. It was a part of the little game they were constantly playing together.
The address opened with these words:
"Fellow-Citizens: We meet this evening not in sorrow, but gladness of heart. The evacuation of Petersburg and Richmond, and the surrender of the principal insurgent army (at Appomattox) give hope of a righteous and speedy peace whose joyous expression cannot be restrained. In the midst of this, however, He from whom all blessings flow must not be forgotten. A call for national thanksgiving is being prepared and will be duly promulgated."
"GIVE US 'DIXIE,' BOYS!"
Then he went on outlining a policy of peace and friendship toward the South—showing a spirit far higher and more advanced than that of the listening crowd. On concluding his address and bidding the assembled multitude good night, he turned to the serenading band and shouted joyously:
"Give us 'Dixie,' boys; play 'Dixie.' We have a right to that tune now."
There was a moment of silence. Some of the people gasped, as they had done when they saw Tad waving the Confederate flag at the window. But the band, loyal even to a mere whim (as they then thought it) of "Father Abraham," started the long-forbidden tune, and the President, bowing, retired, with little Tad, within the White House. Those words, "Give us 'Dixie,' boys," were President Lincoln's last public utterance.