The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1876-03-07
[From Walt Whitman's Promised Book.l
Abraham LincOln'S Death.

The day, April A. 1865, seems to have been
pleasant one throughout the whole land-the
moral atmosphere pleasant, too-the long
storm so dark, so fratricdal, full of blood and
doubt and gloom, over and ended at last by
the sunrise of such ad absolute national vic
tory, and utter breaking down ofssecessionism
we almost doubted our senses! Lee had
capitulated beneath the apple tree of Appo-
mattox. The other armies, the flanges of the
revolt, followed.
And could it really be, then? Out of all the
affairs of this world of woe and passion, of
failure and disorder and dismay, was there
really come the confirmed, unerring sign of
plan, like shaft of pure lght-of rightful
rule-of God?
But must not dwell on accessories. The
deed hastens. The popular afternoon paper
the little Evening Star, had scattered all over
its third page, divided among the advertise
ments in a sensational manner in a hundred
different places: "The President and his lady
will be at the theatre this evening" (Lincoln
was fond of the theatre. have myself seen him
there several times. I remember thinking how
funny it was that he, in some respects, the
leading actor in the greatest and stormiest
drama known to real history's stage, through
centuries, should sit there and be so complete
ly interesteds and absorbed in those human
jackstraws, moving about with their silly little
gestures, foreign spirit, and fatulent text)
So the day, as say, was propitious. Early
herbage, early flowers, were out. II remem-
Der where L was stopping at the time. the sea-
son being advanced, there were many lilacs in
full bloom. By one of those caprices that enter
and give tinge to events without being at all a
part of them, 1 find myself always reminded of
the great tragedy of that day by the sight and
odor of these blossoms. 1t never fails.)
On this occasion the theatre was crowded
many ladies in rich and gay costumes officers
in their uniforms, many we'll known citizens
young folks, the usual clusters of gaslights, the
usual magnetism of so many people, cheerful,
with perfumes, music of violins and flutes
(and over all, and saturatng all, that vast
vague wonder, Victory, the Nations Victory,
the triumph of the Union, filing the air, the
thought, the sense, with exhilaration more
than all perfumes.
The President came betmes, and, with his
wife witnessed the play; from the large boxes
of the second tier, two thrown into one and
profusely draped with the national flag The
acts and scenes of the plsce-one of those sin
gularly witless compositions which have at
least the merit of giving entire relief to an au
dience engaged in mental action or business
exci;ements and cares during the day, as 1t
makes not the slightest call on either the NOR
al, enQlonal, esthetic, or spiritual nature-a
piece (Our American Cousin) in which among
other characters, so called, Yankee, certainly
such a one as was never seen, or the least like
it ever seen in North America, is introduced in
England, with varied fol-de rol of talk, plot,
scenery, and such phantasmagoria as goes to
make up modern popular drama-had pro.
gressed through perhaps couple of its acts,
when in the midst of this comedy, or tragedy,
or non-such, or whatever, it is to be called, and
to of set it or finish it out, as if in natures
and the great muses. mockery of these poor
mines comes interpolated that scene, not real
ly or exactly to be described at all Qor on the
many hundreds who were there it seems to
this hour to have left the little but passing
blur, dream, botch)-and yet partially to
be described as L now proceed to give it.
There is scene in the play representing
a modern parlor in which two Unprecedented