IN an editorial article on Monday, April 17th, 1865, Henry J. Raymond of the New York Times said of Lincoln's murder:
It is as when there "was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where there was not one dead."
We follow in the contemporary press the fortnight's progress of the funeral train across the country through lines of mourners; we read "O Captain! My Captain!" and sample the printed texts of rhetorical eulogies, and search the recollections of those who saw those days--we may even have talked with men and women who shared that grief and joined in the dirges, or who viewed the ravaged face of the dead. From all this we might conclude that Raymond wrote no more than literal truth.
He referred, however, to the North alone, and he must be understood as meaning the loyal North. For even in the North there was considerable open rejoicing, of which we may learn from many sources. Bystanders maintained that a "street operator" in the widely disloyal city of New York was overheard to say, "This thing ought to have happened four years ago." "Traitor! Hang him!" was the cry, and forthwith angry citizens made ready to suspend him from a lamppost in front of the Bank of North America; but he managed to escape. A German, Genter by name, employed in a tannery at Duquesne, Pennsylvania, expressed "great delight." Repeatedly thrown into a tan vat, he was finally rescued and discharged. Among the manuscripts of the McLellan Collection is a letter from Rachel Miller of Conneaut, Ohio, to her husband (seemingly in the army), telling of a woman neigh-