. Civil War echoes : character sketches and state secrets . tire proceedings he looked pale,thin, haggard, and worn out, but the smile was as benig-nant, the patriarchal mien was as majestic as ever glorifiedmortal. He seemed to tower above all his surroundingpersonalities, and to be the chosen leader specially selectedby the Divine Ruler for the occasion. Martial music filled the air, cannon boomed, Lincoln andChase soon arose, the latter administered the oath as theformer held his hand upon the Bible, after which Lincolndelivered his second memorable inaugural address. Thescene was grand and
. Civil War echoes : character sketches and state secrets . tire proceedings he looked pale,thin, haggard, and worn out, but the smile was as benig-nant, the patriarchal mien was as majestic as ever glorifiedmortal. He seemed to tower above all his surroundingpersonalities, and to be the chosen leader specially selectedby the Divine Ruler for the occasion. Martial music filled the air, cannon boomed, Lincoln andChase soon arose, the latter administered the oath as theformer held his hand upon the Bible, after which Lincolndelivered his second memorable inaugural address. Thescene was grand and awe-inspiring in the extreme. Herewas the hero of the hour, sprung from direst poverty tohighest civic and military power. The last time it was my privilege to shake PresidentLincolns hand was shortly after his inauguration justreferred to, and but a few weeks prior to his untimelydeath. It was at a public reception given by him in theevening at the White House. I went alone, joined the longand rapidly-increasing procession, fell into line in the cor- 74. U. S. SENATOR WILLIAM PITT FESSENDEN_, MAINE Civil-war Echoes — Character ridor of the White House, and inched along toward theBlue Room, in which the great President stood, surroundedby his official family and their ladies, and he, towering likea Cedar of Lebanon above everybody who was near. Thepeople composing the single file were in all imaginablekinds of habiliments, and of all social conditions. Therewas the sedate, elderly matron with faded shawl and babyin arms; the honest, sturdy, hard-handed tiller of the soil,with trousers in his boot tops; all classes and kinds, thepowerful and the poor, black and white, yellow and brown,but orderly and respectful, all bent on just one thing—toget a sight of the foremost man living on earth and shakehis hand—the latter being the sine-qua-non of Americangood-will and respect. As one of the procession, and after a painfully closeorder march, I directly found myself in proximit
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