atures at work; and senators, and ambassadors, and soldiers, all
struggling with their tears--great hearts sorrowing with the President
as a stricken man and a brother. That God may give him strength for all
his burdens is, I am sure, at present the prayer of a nation."

This sketch was very much admired by Mrs. Lincoln. I copy it from the
scrap-book in which she pasted it, with many tears, with her own hands.

CHAPTER VII

WASHINGTON IN 1862-3

In the summer of 1862, freedmen began to flock into Washington from
Maryland and Virginia. They came with a great hope in their hearts, and
with all their worldly goods on their backs. Fresh from the bonds of
slavery, fresh from the benighted regions of the plantation, they came
to the Capital looking for liberty, and many of them not knowing it when
they found it. Many good friends reached forth kind hands, but the North
is not warm and impulsive. For one kind word spoken, two harsh ones were
uttered; there was something repelling in the atmosphere, and the bright
joyous dreams of freedom to the slave faded--were sadly altered, in the
presence of that stern, practical mother, reality. Instead of flowery
paths, days of perpetual sunshine, and bowers hanging with golden fruit,
the road was rugged and full of thorns, the sunshine was eclipsed by
shadows, and the mute appeals for help too often were answered by cold
neglect. Poor dusky children of slavery, men and women of my own
race--the transition from slavery to freedom was too sudden for you! The
bright dreams were too rudely dispelled; you were not prepared for the
new life that opened before you, and the great masses of the North
learned to look upon your helplessness with indifference--learned to
speak of you as an idle, dependent race. Reason should have prompted
kinder thoughts. Charity is ever kind.

One fair summer evening I was walking the streets of Washington,
accompanied by a friend, when a band of music was heard in the distance.
We wondered what it could mean, and curiosity prompted us to find out
its meaning. We quickened our steps, and discovered that it came from
the house of Mrs. Farnham. The yard was brilliantly lighted, ladies and
gentlemen were moving about, and the band was playing some of its
sweetest airs. We approached the sentinel on duty at the gate, and asked
what was going on. He told us that it was a festival given for the
benefit of the sick and wounded soldiers in the city. This sugge