Team of Rivals_ The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln - Doris Kearns Goodwin [346]
Word of Vicksburg’s surrender unleashed wild celebrations throughout the North. In Washington, a large crowd, led by the 34th Massachusetts Regimental Band, formed at the National Hotel and marched to the White House to congratulate the president. Lincoln appeared before the cheering multitude, revealing the preliminary thoughts that would coalesce in his historic Gettysburg Address. “How long is it—eighty odd years—since on the Fourth of July for the first time in the history of the world a nation, by its representatives, assembled and declared as a self-evident truth that ‘all men are created equal.’” He went on to recall the signal events that had shared the anniversary of the nation’s birth, beginning with the twin deaths of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams on July 4, and ending with the Union’s twin victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg on the same day. “Gentlemen,” the president declared, “this is a glorious theme, and the occasion for a speech, but I am not prepared to make one worthy of the occasion.” Instead, he spoke of the “praise due to the many brave officers and soldiers who have fought in the cause of the Union.”
The band played some patriotic airs, and the crowd pressed on to the War Department, where Stanton paid generous tribute to General Grant. Although several more speeches followed and songs were played, the people had not exhausted their euphoria. Marching to Lafayette Square, they joined another throng at Seward’s house, cheering for the secretary to appear. The indefatigable Seward happily obliged, delivering a long, animated speech tracing the conflict from its troubled early days to its recent triumphs, which, he assured them, foretold “the beginning of the end.”
The following day, little work was accomplished in the offices of government. In every building, Noah Brooks reported, the official bulletins were read “over and over again,” producing “cheer upon cheer from the crowds of officers and clerks.” On the streets, “Union men were shaking hands wherever they met, like friends after a long absence,” while the Copperheads had “retired to their holes like evil beasts at sunrise.”
The joyous occasion was marred for the Lincolns by a serious carriage accident that took place on the second day of the Gettysburg battle. As Rebecca Pomroy related the events, the Lincolns were returning to the White House from the Soldiers’ Home. Lincoln was riding on horseback while Mary followed behind in their carriage. The night before, presumably targeting the president, an unknown assailant had removed the screws fastening the driver’s seat to the body of the carriage. When the vehicle began to descend from a winding hill, the seat came loose, throwing the driver to the ground. Unable to restrain the runaway horses, Mary tried to leap from the carriage. She landed on her back, hitting her head against a sharp stone. The wound was dressed at a nearby hospital, but a dangerous infection set in that kept her incapacitated for several weeks. With the Battle of Gettysburg in full swing, Lincoln was unable to minister to Mary’s needs. He brought Mrs. Pomroy to the Soldiers’ Home to nurse his wife round the clock. Robert Lincoln believed that his mother “never quite recovered from the effects of her fall,” which exacerbated the debilitating headaches that she already endured.
IN THE WAKE OF the triumphs at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, Lincoln anticipated a quick end to the rebellion. General Meade, he told Halleck, had only to “complete his work, so gloriously prosecuted thus far, by the literal or substantial destruction of Lee’s army.”