With a far-away look the President slowly answered:
"And all that I am in this world, Miss Betty, I owe to a woman--my angel mother--blessings on her memory!"
"I trust her spirit heard that beautiful speech," the girl responded tenderly.
She paused, looked up at John, blushed and added:
"We are to be married next week, Mr. President----"
"Is it so?" he said joyfully. "I wish I could be there, my children--but I"m afraid "Old Grizzly" might bite me. So I"ll say it now--G.o.d bless you!"
He took their hands in his and pressed them heartily. His eyes suddenly rested on a shining black face grinning behind John Vaughan.
"My, my, can this be Julius Caesar Thornton?" he laughed.
"Ya.s.sah," the black man grinned. "Hit"s me--ole reliable, sah, right here--I"se gwine ter cook fur "em!"
From the moment of Abraham Lincoln"s election the end of the war with a restored Union was a foregone conclusion.
In the fall of Atlanta the heart of the Confederacy was pierced, and it ceased to beat. Lee"s army, cut off from their supplies, slowly but surely began to starve behind their impregnable breastworks. Sherman"s march to the sea and through the Carolinas was merely a torchlight parade. The fighting was done.
When Lee"s emaciated men, living on a handful of parched corn a day, staggered out of their trenches in the spring and tried to join Johnston"s army they marched a few miles to Appomattox, dropping from exhaustion, and surrendered.
When the news of this tremendous event reached Washington, the Cabinet was in session. Led by the President, in silence and tears, they fell on their knees in a prayer of solemn thanks to Almighty G.o.d.
General Grant won the grat.i.tude of the South by his generous treatment of Lee and his ragged men. He had received instructions from the loving heart in the White House.
Long before the surrender in April, 1865, the end was sure. The President knowing this, proposed to his Cabinet to give the South four hundred millions of dollars, the cost of the war for a hundred days, in payment for their slaves, if they would lay down their arms at once. His ministers unanimously voted against his offer and he sadly withdrew it.
Among all his councillors there was not one whose soul was big enough to understand the far-seeing wisdom of his generous plan. He would heal at once one of the Nation"s ugliest wounds by soothing the bitterness of defeat. He knew that despair would send the older men of the South to their graves.
Edmund Ruffin, who had fired the first shot against Sumter and returned to his Virginia farm when his State seceded, was a type of these ruined, desperate men. On the day that Lee surrendered he placed the muzzle of his gun in his mouth, pulled the trigger with his foot, and blew his own head into fragments.
When Senator Winter demanded proscription and vengeance against the leaders of the Confederacy, the President shook his head:
"No--let down the bars--let them all go--scare them off!"
He threw up his big hands in a vivid gesture as if he were shooing a flock of troublesome sheep out of his garden.
"Triumphant now, you will receive our enemies with open arms?" the Senator sneered.
"Enemies? There are no such things. The Southern States have never really been out of the Union. Their Acts of Secession were null and void. They know now that the issue is forever settled. The restored Union will be a real one. The Southern people at heart are law-abiding.
It was their reverence for the letter of the old law which led them to ignore progress and claim the right to secede under the Const.i.tution.
They will be true to Lee"s pledge of surrender. I"m going to trust them as my brethren. Let us fold up our banners now and smelt the guns--Love rules--let her mightier purpose run!"
So big and generous, so broad and statesmanlike was his spirit that in this hour of victory his personality became in a day the soul of the New Republic. The South had already unconsciously grown to respect the man who had loved yet fought her for what he believed to be her highest good.
He was entering now a new phase of power. His influence over the people was supreme. No man or set of men in Congress, or outside of it, could defeat his policies. Even through the years of stunning defeats and measureless despair his enemies had never successfully opposed a measure on which he had set his heart.
His first great work accomplished in destroying slavery and restoring the Union, there remained but two tasks on which his soul was set--to heal the bitterness of the war and remove the negro race from physical contact with the white.
He at once addressed himself to this work with enthusiasm. That he could do it he never doubted for a moment.
His first care was to remove the negro soldiers from the country as quickly as possible. He summoned General Butler and set him to work on his scheme to use these one hundred and eighty thousand black troops to dig the Panama Ca.n.a.l. He summoned Bradley, the Vermont contractor, and put him to work on estimates for moving the negroes by ship to Africa or by train to an undeveloped Western Territory.
His prophetic soul had pierced the future and seen with remorseless logic that two such races as the Negro and Caucasian could not live side by side in a free democracy. The Radical theorists of Congress were demanding that these black men, emerging from four thousand years of slavery and savagery should receive the ballot and the right to claim the white man"s daughter in marriage. They could only pa.s.s these measures over the dead body of Abraham Lincoln.
The a.s.sa.s.sin came at last--a vain, foolish dreamer who had long breathed the poisoned air of hatred. It needed but the flash of this madman"s pistol on the night of the 14th of April to reveal the grandeur of Lincoln"s character, the marvel of his patience and his wisdom.
The curtains of the box in Ford"s theatre were softly drawn apart by an unseen hand. The Angel of Death entered, paused at the sight of the smile on his rugged, kindly face, touched the drooping shoulders, called him to take the place he had won among earth"s immortals and left to us "the gentlest memory of our world."
THE END