Lesson 55: The Last Inauguration of the Old Union

On the 4th of March, 1861, occurred an event which, in the tremendous consequences that have followed, has scarcely been surpassed in magnitude in modern or ancient times.

Little did the gay and happy throng who pressed to witness it, imagine what scenes of horror, what untold suffering and infamous deeds that day's proceedings were to inaugurate. Had "coming events cast their shadows before," and revealed the thousand scenes of carnage, the bloody fields, the desolated homes and burning towns, to the gaze of the astonished crowd, how would the gilded pageantry that attended the last inauguration of the old Union have sickened on their sight!

Inauguration day had always been a gala day in Washington, but on this occasion it was determined to celebrate it with unusual splendor. The day itself was a lovely one. The sun rose unobscured by a single cloud, and the fresh young leaves, which were just peeping out from their buds, seemed almost to leap forth to meet his rays on that glorious spring morning. Though it was a painful and humiliating thing to see such a creature as Lincoln ascending the chair of State that had been dignified and adorned by a Washington, a Jefferson, a Madison, and a Monroe, yet who could feel sad or gloomy on such a day as that, when all nature smiled? The city was literally crowded with visitors--all, with but few exceptions, Black Republicans, who had come to witness the first triumph of their infamous party.

At 11 o'clock in the morning the procession was formed on Pennsylvania Avenue, just below the President's House. Those who have visited the City, will remember that the Capitol and the President's House are at opposite ends of the Avenue, and distant from each other about one mile. Neither labor nor expense had been spared in the preparations. At the head moved an immense triumphal car, drawn by twenty-four horses, which was decorated with all manner of devices, and upon which rode thirty-three young girls, dressed in white, and representing the States of the old Union. After this, came an immense procession of firemen, in their fancy dresses, and soldiers, both regular and volunteer. Little did those soldiers, as they stepped proudly along in their gaudy attire, dream that they were escorting a tyrant to his throne, and that many of them should fall sustaining that tyrant's will. Last of all, rode Lincoln in an open carriage, surrounded by a body-guard of cavalry. President Buchanan and Chief Justice Taney occupied the carriage with him, while Gen. Scott and his staff rode at his side. Amid waving of flags and strains of martial music, the throng moved down the Avenue towards the Capitol. On arriving there, the procession halted, and opened ranks, while the President's cortege passed slowly down between the two lines to the front. The President then alighted, and accompanied by a large number of his friends, ascended the Capitol steps, passing through to the east side of the building where a large platform had been erected. The procession and crowd moved around in front of the same place. It had been rumored that Lincoln would be assassinated during the delivery of his address, and for his safety the military were drawn up around him several ranks deep. Just before he appeared on the platform, quite an amusing incident occurred, apparently corroborating the above rumor. A lunatic had escaped from one of the neighboring asylums the day before, and, like everybody else, wishing to see and hear the new President, had contributed his presence to the scene. The crowd being very dense, and he rather short, the poor fellow was probably unable to see what was going on with satisfaction to himself, and accordingly thought to better his condition by climbing a large elm tree that stood facing the platforn, and only twenty-five yards distant. He accordingly began to ascend, and from the agility with which he went up, it was very evident that his confinement had not materially lessened his activity. Upward and upward he clambered, from limb to limb, until he comfortably seated himself about midway in the tree.

While thus innocently enjoying himself, some wag below started the rumor that the man had a pistol about him, and intended shooting Lincoln down when he appeared. Like wildfire, it ran from mouth to mouth, few believing it, but repeating it merely as a joke. The report soon reached the ears of two policemen, who, ignorant of their customer, undertook to make the man come down. Their first attempt was a peremptory order, but our celestial friend, with provoking gravity, quietly continued to direct his gaze at the platform, as if watching for his victim's appearance. The policemen, of course, soon became furious at the contemptuous silence with which their orders were treated, and to the great amusement of the crowd, who now became interested in the scene, the two started up the tree in pursuit. The stranger quietly watched their operations as with difficulty they labored up towards him, but said not a word. When they had ascended to within a few feet of him, not fancying a closer acquaintance, he nimbly ran up about ten feet higher. This act was greeted with roars of applause by the crowd, who of course took the stranger's side. The policemen thus foiled, halted, and held a council of war, which resulted in one of them remaining where he was, to "protect the rear," and "keep open communication," while the more daring one continued the pursuit. Upward he climbed, but his enemy had his pickets out, and upon notice of the approaching danger, again "fell back," upwards, with the success of a Bragg or a Lee. The poor policeman, in despair, now halted, and began to parley. He reasoned and expostulated, and finally endeavored to frighten, by pointing out his adversary's danger, which really was great, for the fellow had crawled out almost to the very verge of the tree, and every one was expecting to see him fall. But all in vain. The lunatic leisurely stretched himself out on the bending limb, and fastened his eye upon the platform again. Wearied out at length, his pursuer retreated, and left him to watch undisturbed the inauguration of Abe, and shoot him if he chose. In a few moments Lincoln appeared, accompanied by Buchanan, Chief Justice Taney, who was to administer the oath, and by General Scott, Seward, and many others. A loud murmur ran through the multitude, but gradually subsided into the deepest silence, as the new President moved forward to the front and prepared to address them. He began in a loud, clear voice, and delivered his address with considerable ease and grace. It was received with mingled hisses and applause. As to the subject matter of it, of course no mention need be made here, as it was published to the world, but unfortunately for its author, only to show how totally he failed in carrying out his threats of coercion and conquest.

After he had finished his inaugural, the venerable old Chief Justice advanced, with trembling steps, and administered the oath to support the Constitution, and raised the Bible to the traitor's lips. History will record to Lincoln's everlasting infamy how he kept that oath. Never was there a man offered so grand an opportunity of preserving "peace and good will" among men, by throwing his influence into the scale in favor of a peaceful separation, and thus handing down his name to posterity as a benefactor of the human race; never was there a man who so miserably failed in availing himself of it. There is but little doubt that Lincoln could have prevented the war. What a fearful responsibility, then, rests on that man's shoulders, whose ambition and lust for power, combined with his weakness of mind, induced him to hurl his country into the most tremendous revolution that the world has ever seen. The blood upon a hundred gory fields, the ashes of ten thousand desolated homes, the groans and tears of innumerable wives, mothers and sisters, and the faded glory of his nation's flag and honor, will ever cry aloud to Heaven for vengeance on the traitor's head.

When ages shall have rolled away, sweeping into forgetfulness generation after generation, and burying the crimes and misdeeds of ordinary villians in oblivion, the memory of this wretch will still survive the lapse of time, and stand out in all its original blackness, as the greatest tyrant, and the meanest creature, that ever cursed a nation, or disgraced the name of man.