l.
Johnston's army in its present position in the hands of a resolute and
daring commander could have formed a light column of ten thousand
cavalry and cut its way through all opposition to the Mississippi River.
Knowing the character of his General so well he had small hopes.

After receiving the report of the condition of the army the President
called his Cabinet to consider what should be done.

Johnston sat at as great a distance from Davis as the room would permit.

The President reviewed briefly the situation and turned calmly to
Johnston:

"General, we should like now to hear your views."

The reply was given with brutal brevity and in tones of unconcealed
defiance and hatred.

"Sir," the great retreater blurted out, "my views are that our people
are tired of war, feel themselves whipped and will not fight."

A dead silence followed.

The President turned in quiet dignity to Beauregard:

"And what do you say, General Beauregard?"

"I agree with what General Johnston has said," he replied.

There was no appeal from the decision of these two commanders in such an
hour. The President dictated a letter to General Sherman suggesting
their surrender and outlining the advantageous terms which the Northern
Commander accepted.

And then the Confederate Chieftain received a message so amazing he
could not at first credit its authority.

A courier from Sherman conveyed the announcement to Johnston that Davis
might leave the country on a United States vessel and take whoever and
whatever he pleased with him.

The answer of Jefferson Davis was characteristic.

"Please thank General Sherman for his offer and say that I can do no act
which will put me under obligations to the Federal Government."

Sherman had asked Lincoln at their last interview whether he should
capture Davis or let him go.

A sunny smile overspread the rugged features of the National President:

"That reminds me," he said, "of a temperance lecturer in Illinois. Wet
and cold he stopped for the night at a wayside inn. The landlord, noting
his condition, asked if he would have a glass of brandy.

"'No--no--' came the quick reply. 'I am a temperance lecturer and do
not drink--' he paused and his voice dropped to a whisper--'I would like
some water however--and if you should of _your own_ accord, put a little
brandy in it _unbeknownst_ to me--why, it will be all right.'"

Sherman was trying to carry out the wishes of the man with the lovin