It was once said of Shakespeare that the great mind that conceived the
tragedies of “Hamlet,” “Macbeth,” etc., would have lost its reason if it
had not found vent in the sparkling humor of such comedies as “The Merry
Wives of Windsor” and “The Comedy of Errors.”
The great strain on the mind of Abraham Lincoln produced by four years
of civil war might likewise have overcome his reason had it not found
vent in the yarns and stories he constantly told. No more fun-loving or
humor-loving man than Abraham Lincoln ever lived. He enjoyed a joke
even when it was on himself, and probably, while he got his greatest
enjoyment from telling stories, he had a keen appreciation of the humor
in those that were told him.
His favorite humorous writer was David R. Locke, better known as
“Petroleum V. Nasby,” whose political satires were quite famous in their
day. Nearly every prominent man who has written his recollections of
Lincoln has told how the President, in the middle of a conversation on
some serious subject, would suddenly stop and ask his hearer if he ever
read the Nasby letters.
Then he would take from his desk a pamphlet containing the letters and
proceed to read them, laughing heartily at all the good points they
contained. There is probably no better evidence of Mr. Lincoln’s love of
humor and appreciation of it than his letter to Nasby, in which he said:
“For the ability to write these things I would gladly trade places with
you.”
Mr. Lincoln was re-elected President in 1864. His opponent on the
Democratic ticket was General George B. McClellan, whose command of the
Army of the Potomac had been so unsatisfactory at the beginning of the
war. Mr. Lincoln’s election was almost unanimous, as McClellan carried
but three States--Delaware, Kentucky and New Jersey.
General Grant, in a telegram of congratulation, said that it was “a
victory worth more to the country than a battle won.”
The war was fast drawing to a close. The black war clouds were breaking
and rolling away. Sherman had made his famous march to the sea.
Through swamp and ravine, Grant was rapidly tightening the lines
around Richmond. Thomas had won his title of the “Rock of Chickamauga.”
Sheridan had won his spurs as the great modern cavalry commander, and
had cleaned out the Shenandoah Valley. Sherman was coming back from his
famous march to join Grant at Richmond.
The Confederacy was without a navy. The Kearsarge had sunk the Alabama,
and Farragut had fought and won the famous victory in Mobile Bay. It was
certain that Lee would soon have to evacuate Richmond only to fall into
the hands of Grant.
Lincoln saw the dawn of peace. When he came to deliver his second
inaugural address, it contained no note of victory, no exultation over
a fallen foe. On the contrary, it breathed the spirit of brotherly love
and of prayer for an early peace: “With malice toward none, with charity
for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right,
let us 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
orphans, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting
peace among ourselves and with all nations.”
Not long thereafter, General Lee evacuated Richmond with about half of
his original army, closely pursued by Grant. The boys in blue overtook
their brothers in gray at Appomattox Court House, and there, beneath the
warm rays of an April sun, the great Confederate general made his final
surrender. The war was over, the American flag was floated over all the
territory of the United States, and peace was now a reality. Mr. Lincoln
visited Richmond and the final scenes of the war and then returned to
Washington to carry out his announced plan of “binding up the nation’s
wounds.”
He had now reached the climax of his career and touched the highest
point of his greatness. His great task was over, and the heavy burden
that had so long worn upon his heart was lifted.
While the whole nation was rejoicing over the return of peace, the
Saviour of the Union was stricken down by the hand of an assassin.