other men were walking; I could hear them in the silence. My head was beginning to throb, and I sat down and pressed my hands to my temples. Then all at once, in the Ebbett House, across the way, a window was flung up and a man stepped out on the balcony. The footsteps about me ceased. Everybody had heard the man and was waiting breathlessly to see what he would do. Suddenly, in a rich, powerful voice he began to sing "The Star Spangled Banner." The result was extraordinary. Windows were thrown up. Crowds gathered on the streets. A multitude of voices joined the song. When it was over the street rang with 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 one another. Dissension and threats were silenced. It seemed to me, and I believe to all of us, that Washington had been saved by the inspiration of 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 never been 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 the Christmas Harper, was called 'Santa Claus.' It showed him dressed in the Stars and Stripes, distributing presents in the military camp. In the same paper was another called 'Christmas 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 a picture of his wife and children. Letters came from all parts of the Union with thanks for that picture. A colonel wrote that it reached him on Christmas Eve; that he unfolded it by the light of his camp-fire and wept over it. 'It was only a picture,' he said, 'but I couldn't help it.'"
"I don't wonder," sighed Elsie softly, "for how he must have wanted to be at home with his wife and children."
Harold and Grace, who had been taking their morning exercise upon the deck, returned to the saloon and joined the group of listeners just in time to hear their mother's story of Nast's Christmas pictures.
"Nast certainly did a great deal for the Union cause," said Harold. "Do you remember, mother, what Grant said of him when asked, 'Who is the greatest single figure in civil life developed by the Civil War?'"
"Yes. He answered without hesitation, 'Thomas Nast. He did as much as any one man to bring the war to an end.' And many of the Northern generals and statesmen held the same opinion."
"Yes, mother; and all lovers of the Union certainly owe him a debt of gratitude."
"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; did all in his power to avert civil war without allowing the destruction of the Union, denying the right of any State or number of States to go out of the Union. But the rebellious States would not listen, declared themselves out of the Union, began seizing government property, firing upon those who had it in charge, and Lincoln was compelled to call out troops 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's praise was on every tongue. They felt that he had saved his country and theirs, and that at the expense of great suffering to himself. But only a few days later he was fatally shot by a bad fellow, an actor named John Wilkes Booth."
"One of the Confederates, grandma?" asked Ned.
"I think not," she replied. "It is said that his controlling motive for the dreadful deed was insane conceit. That for weeks beforehand he had declared his purpose to do something that would make his name ring round the world."
"As it has," remarked Harold; "but in such a way as I should think no sane man would desire for his."
"And did they hang him?" asked Ned.
"No," replied his uncle; "the awful crime was so sudden and unexpected that for several minutes the audience did not comprehend what had been done, and the assassin escaped for the time. He ran out, leaped upon a saddled horse kept waiting for him and galloped away into the country. He rode into Maryland, from there into Virginia, and took refuge in a barn. He was pursued, cavalry surrounded the barn, and called upon him and his companion to surrender. The other man did, but Booth refused and offered to fight the captain and all his men; then they set the barn 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 was in mourning for Lincoln, and even the South soon saw that it had lost its truest and best friend; and there was a movement of sympathy for our nation in its great loss throughout the world."
"Yes, mother," said Harold; "and time only increases the esteem of the world for that great and good man."
CHAPTER V
The next day, after some healthful exercise upon the deck, the children returned to the saloon, and gathering about Grandma Elsie, begged for another story.
"Something historical?" she asked with her pleasant smile.
"Yes, grandma, if you please," replied Elsie. "I liked your story of Marion so much, and should be glad to hear about some other Revolutionary soldier who helped to drive away the British."
"Well, if you would all like that, I will tell you of Sergeant Jasper and his brave doings."
The other children gave an eager assent, and Mrs. Travilla began.
"History tells us that William Jasper was born in South Carolina in 1750. That would make him about twenty-six years old when the Revolutionary War began. He was patriotic, and at once enlisted as a sergeant in the Second South Carolina Regiment.
"In June, 1776, a British fleet appeared off Charleston bar, and several hundred land troops took possession of Long Island, separated from Sullivan's – on which was our Fort Sullivan – only by a narrow creek. At half-past ten o'clock on the morning of the 28th of June the British ships anchored in front of our Fort Sullivan, which instantly poured a heavy fire upon them.
"But I shall not go into a detailed account of the battle, which, Lossing tells us, was one of the severest during the whole war, redounded to the military glory of the Americans, greatly increased the patriotic strength at the South, and was regarded by the British as very disastrous; for the loss of life on their ships was frightful.
"But I must tell you of a daring feat performed by Sergeant Jasper. At the beginning of the action, the flag-staff of our fort was cut away by a ball from a British ship, and the Crescent flag of South Carolina, that waved opposite the Union flag upon the western bastion, fell outside upon the beach. Jasper leaped the parapet, walked the length of the fort, picked up the flag, fastened it upon a sponge staff, and in the sight of the whole British fleet, whose iron hail was pouring upon the fortress, he fixed the flag firmly upon the bastion. Then he climbed up to the parapet and leaped, unhurt, within the fort, three cheers greeting him as he did so."
"Oh, how brave he was!" cried Ned. "I hope they gave him a reward for it."
"Yes," said his grandma, "the governor, on the day after the battle, visited the fort, and rewarded Jasper with the gift of his own small sword, a handsome one which hung by his side, and thanked him in the name of his country. He also offered him a lieutenant's commission; but the young hero declined it, saying, 'I am not fit to keep officers' company; I am but a sergeant.'
"He seems to have had no educational advantages, as he could neither read nor write."
