CHAPTER IV
That Christmas week was a busy and cheery one to our Woodburn folkand their near and dear ones on the neighboring estates. The Fairviewfamily were expecting to spend the rest of the winter at Viamede;Cousin Ronald and his Annis had accepted a cordial invitation to dolikewise, and Grandma Elsie's brother and his family from the Oakswould also pay her a visit there, the duration of which was notsettled, as that would depend upon how well Horace's affairs at homeshould be carried on without his presence and supervision. His littledaughter Elsie was to make one of the party on the yacht, but theothers would go by rail, as that would not necessitate so early a startfrom home. The _Dolphin_ was being put in readiness for her trip, andthe overseeing of that business occupied quite a portion of CaptainRaymond's time during that week.
Grace made a lovely bride, surrounded by all her own and Harold's kithand kin. The ceremony took place at noon; a grand dinner followed; thenwedding attire was exchanged for a pretty and becoming travelling suit,carriages conveyed bride, groom, his mother and their young charges tothe _Dolphin_, and presently the southward journey was fairly begun.
It had been rather hard for Ned to part from "papa and mamma" for evena few days, though with dear grandma and uncle left to him, sister andcousins also, and wearied with that grief and the exciting scenes ofthe day, he was soon ready to take to his berth and fall asleep.
The others found it too cool for comfort on the deck, but very pleasantin the well-warmed and lighted saloon. They sat and chatted there forsome little time; then retired to their staterooms for the night.
The morning found Ned refreshed and strengthened, the rest in finehealth and spirits. They made a cheerful, merry little company aboutthe breakfast table, afterward took some exercise on the deck, thengathered about Grandma Elsie in the saloon and pleaded for one of her"lovely stories."
"Well, dears, what shall I tell of?" she asked with her own sweetsmile. "Something more of our Washington or of others of ourPresidents?"
"Oh, tell us about the time of our Civil War and the pictures Nastdrew then," cried Elsie excitedly. "I saw something about him and hisdrawings the other day, and I should like to know more of him and hiswonderful work. Was he an American, grandma?"
"No, my dear; he was born in the military barracks of Landau, a littlefortified town of Germany, and came to this country at the age of six.He and his sister were brought here by their mother. The husband andfather was then on a French man-of-war; afterward he enlisted on anAmerican vessel, and he did not join his family until Thomas, his son,was ten years old, and mother and children had been four years in thiscountry. A comrade of his told them he was coming, and the news made agreat excitement in the family.
"The mother sent Thomas to buy a cake with which to welcome hisfather. As he was coming home with that he was passed by a closed cab.It suddenly stopped, a man sprang out, caught him up and put him inthe cab, then got in himself. For an instant Thomas was frightened,thinking he was kidnapped. Then he found he was in his father's arms,and was full of joy; but he was troubled when he saw that between themthey had crushed the cake. He thought his mother would be greatlydisappointed by that. But she was so glad to see her husband that shedid not seem to mind it--the damage to the cake; nor did the children,being so delighted to see their father and the many presents he hadbrought them from distant places, and to listen to all he had to tellabout his travels.
"Thomas was a short, stout, moon-faced lad. He attended a German schoolfor a short time after his father came home, but he was constantlydrawing pictures. His teacher would say to him, 'Go finish yourpicture, Nast; you will never learn to read.' Often he would draw afile of soldiers or a pair of prize fighters; sometimes things heremembered from his life in Landau--as a little girl with her pet lambor old Santa Claus with his pack.
"In 1860 he went to England, where he still made drawings. Everysteamer brought letters from him and papers to the New York _News_.From England he went, that same year, to Italy to join Garibaldi."
"Who was Garibaldi, grandma, and what did Nast want to join him for?"asked Ned.
"To help him to get Italy free," replied Mrs. Travilla. "But I willnot tell the story of Garibaldi now--some other time, perhaps. Thewar was not very long, and Nast stayed until it was over. In Novemberof that same year he said 'Good-by' to his friends in Italy. Then hevisited Rome, Florence and Genoa. Late in December he reached Landau,his native city. The old place had not changed, except that to him itlooked much smaller than it had before. He went on through Germany,visiting art galleries and cathedrals. But he grew tired of it all andwanted to get home. He crossed the channel to England, and there heardtalk of the brewing of war in this country, now his own land. He stayeda few days in London, then sailed for the United States, which hereached on February 1st, 1861. He had been gone a year, and now arrivedin New York with only a dollar and a half in his pocket."
"Oh, how little after such long, hard work!" exclaimed Elsie Raymond.
"Yes," said Mrs. Travilla; "but he was brave and industrious and wenton working as before. Mr. Lincoln had been elected to the Presidencythe November before, and in March Nast went on to Washington to see hisinauguration."
A portfolio lay on the table beside which Mrs. Travilla now sat, andshe took it up and opened it, saying, "I have some articles in thiswhich I have been saving for years past, among them some things aboutNast--some of his own writing; for I have taken an interest in himever since the time of our Civil War. Listen to this, written of thattime when Lincoln was about to be inaugurated. Nast had been orderedby his paper--the News of New York--to go on to Washington to see theinaugural ceremony. Stopping in Philadelphia, he was near Lincolnduring the celebrated speech and flag-raising at Independence Hall,and afterward heard the address Lincoln made from the balcony of theContinental Hotel.
"At Washington Nast stopped at the Willard Hotel, which was Lincoln'sheadquarters. A feeling of shuddering horror, such as a bad dreamsometimes gives us, came over him there. The men who had sworn that'Abe Lincoln' should not take his seat were not gone. Now I will readyou what he says about that time."
The children sat very still, listening attentively--Elsie Raymond withalmost breathless interest--while her grandmother read.
"'It seemed to me that the shadow of death was everywhere. I hadendless visions of black funeral parades accompanied by mournful music.It was as if the whole city were mined, and I know now that it wasfiguratively true. A single yell of defiance would have inflamed a mob.A shot would have started a conflict. In my room at the Willard Hotel Iwas trying to work. I picked up my pencils and laid them down as manyas a dozen times. I got up at last and walked the floor. Presently inthe rooms next mine other men were walking; I could hear them in thesilence. My head was beginning to throb, and I sat down and pressed myhands to my temples. Then all at once, in the Ebbett House, across theway, a window was flung up and a man stepped out on the balcony. Thefootsteps about me ceased. Everybody had heard the man and was waitingbreathlessly to see what he would do. Suddenly, in a rich, powerfulvoice he began to sing "The Star Spangled Banner." The result wasextraordinary. Windows were thrown up. Crowds gathered on the streets.A multitude of voices joined the song. When it was over the street rangwith cheers. The men in the rooms next mine joined me in the corridor.The hotel came to life. Guests wept and flung their arms about oneanother. Dissension and threats were silenced. It seemed to me, and Ibelieve to all of us, that Washington had been saved by the inspirationof an unknown man with a voice to sing that grand old song of songs.'"
"Who was that man, grandma?" asked Ned.
"I can't tell you that, Neddie," she replied. "I think it has neverbeen known who he was."
"Is there some more story about Nast and his pictures?" he asked.
"Yes; he made a great many more pictures. One, on the first page of theChristmas _Harper_, was called 'Santa Claus.' It showed him dressed inthe Stars and Stripes, distributing presents in the military camp. Inthe same paper was another called 'Chri
stmas Eve.' It had two parts:one, in a large wreath, was a picture of the soldier's family at home;and in another wreath was the soldier by the camp-fire, looking at apicture of his wife and children. Letters came from all parts of theUnion with thanks for that picture. A colonel wrote that it reached himon Christmas Eve; that he unfolded it by the light of his camp-fire andwept over it. 'It was only a picture,' he said, 'but I couldn't helpit.'"
"I don't wonder," sighed Elsie softly, "for how he must have wanted tobe at home with his wife and children."
Harold and Grace, who had been taking their morning exercise upon thedeck, returned to the saloon and joined the group of listeners just intime to hear their mother's story of Nast's Christmas pictures.
"Nast certainly did a great deal for the Union cause," said Harold. "Doyou remember, mother, what Grant said of him when asked, 'Who is thegreatest single figure in civil life developed by the Civil War?'"
"Yes. He answered without hesitation, 'Thomas Nast. He did as muchas any one man to bring the war to an end.' And many of the Northerngenerals and statesmen held the same opinion."
"Yes, mother; and all lovers of the Union certainly owe him a debt ofgratitude."
"Now, children, shall I tell you something about Lincoln?" she asked.There was an eager assent, and she went on. "He was a noble, unselfish,Christian man; came to the Presidency in a dark and stormy time; didall in his power to avert civil war without allowing the destructionof the Union, denying the right of any State or number of States to goout of the Union. But the rebellious States would not listen, declaredthemselves out of the Union, began seizing government property, firingupon those who had it in charge, and Lincoln was compelled to call outtroops for its defence.
"But I shall not go over the whole sad story now. After four years,when it was all over, every loyal heart was full of joy and Lincoln'spraise was on every tongue. They felt that he had saved his country andtheirs, and that at the expense of great suffering to himself. But onlya few days later he was fatally shot by a bad fellow, an actor namedJohn Wilkes Booth."
"One of the Confederates, grandma?" asked Ned.
"I think not," she replied. "It is said that his controlling motive forthe dreadful deed was insane conceit. That for weeks beforehand hehad declared his purpose to do something that would make his name ringround the world."
"As it has," remarked Harold; "but in such a way as I should think nosane man would desire for his."
"And did they hang him?" asked Ned.
"No," replied his uncle; "the awful crime was so sudden and unexpectedthat for several minutes the audience did not comprehend what had beendone, and the assassin escaped for the time. He ran out, leaped upon asaddled horse kept waiting for him and galloped away into the country.He rode into Maryland, from there into Virginia, and took refuge in abarn. He was pursued, cavalry surrounded the barn, and called upon himand his companion to surrender. The other man did, but Booth refusedand offered to fight the captain and all his men; then they set thebarn on fire, and one of them, against orders, shot Booth in the neck.That shot made him helpless. He was carried out, laid on the grass,and after four hours of intense agony he died."
"That was a sad, sad time," sighed Mrs. Travilla. "The whole North wasin mourning for Lincoln, and even the South soon saw that it had lostits truest and best friend; and there was a movement of sympathy forour nation in its great loss throughout the world."
"Yes, mother," said Harold; "and time only increases the esteem of theworld for that great and good man."
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