Abraham Lincoln(2)

八十七年以前，我们的祖先在这大陆上建立了一个新的国家，它孕育于自由，并且献身给一种理念，即所有人都是生来平等的。

当前，我们正在从事一次伟大的内战，我们在考验，究竟这个国家，或任何一个有这种主张和这种信仰的国家，是否能长久存在。我们在那次战争的一个伟大的战场上集合。我们来到这里，奉献那个战场上的一部分土地，作为在此地为那个国家的生存而牺牲了自己生命的人永久眠息之所。我们这样做，是十分合情合理的。

可是，就更深一层意义而言，我们是无从奉献这片土地的－－ 无从使它成为圣地－－也不可能把它变为人们景仰之所。那些在这里战斗的勇士，活着的和死去的，已使这块土地神圣化了，远非我们的菲薄能力所能左右。世人会不大注意，更不会长久记得我们在此地所说的话，然而他们将永远忘不了这些人在这里所做的事。相反，我们活着的人应该献身于那些曾在此作战的人们所英勇推动而尚未完成的工作。我们应该在此献身于我们面前所留存的伟大工作－－由于他们的光荣牺牲，我们要更坚定地致力于他们曾作最后全部贡献的那个事业－－我们在此立志誓愿，不能让他们白白死去－－要使这个国家在上帝庇佑之下，得到新生的自由－－要使那民有、民治、民享的政府不致从地球上消失。

Lincoln was elected to a second term in 1864. The South surrendered, and the Civil War ended on April 9, 1865. The difficult task of national reconstruction and reconciliation(和解) lay ahead, but Lincoln would not be the person to lead the country through this difficult period.

On April 14, Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln attended a play at the Ford's Theater in Washington, D.C. A few minutes past ten o'clock, an actor who disagreed with

Lincoln's political opinions stepped into the Presidential box and shot the President. He died the following morning.

On the evening of April 14, 1865, while attending a special performance of the comedy, \Accompanying him at Ford's Theater that night were his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, a twenty-eight year-old officer named Major Henry R. Rathbone, and Rathbone's fiancee, Clara Harris. After the play was in progress, a figure with a drawn derringer（大口径短筒小手枪） pistol stepped into the presidential box, aimed, and fired. The president slumped forward（fall heavily）. The assassin, John Wilkes Booth, dropped the pistol and waved a dagger. Rathbone lunged at him, and though slashed(cut) in the arm, forced the killer to the railing. Booth leapt from the balcony and caught the spur of his left boot on a flag draped over (allow sth to rest loosely on ) the rail, and shattered a bone in his leg on landing. Though injured, he rushed out the back door, and disappeared into the night on horseback.

A doctor in the audience immediately went upstairs to the box. The bullet had entered through Lincoln's left ear and lodged behind his right eye. He was paralyzed and barely breathing. He was carried across Tenth Street, to a boarding-house opposite the theater, but the doctors' best efforts failed. Nine hours later, at 7:22 AM on April 15th, Lincoln died.

At almost the same moment Booth fired the fatal shot, his accomplice, Lewis Paine, attacked Lincoln's Secretary of State, William Henry Seward. Seward lay in bed, recovering from a carriage accident. Paine entered the mansion, claiming to have a delivery of medicine from the Secretary's doctor. Seward's son, Frederick, was brutally beaten while trying to keep Paine from his father's door. Paine slashed the Secretary's throat twice, then fought his way past

Seward's son Augustus, an attending hospital corps veteran, and a State Department messenger.

Paine escaped into the night, believing his deed complete. However, a metal surgical collar saved Seward from certain death. The Secretary lived another seven years, during which he retained his seat with the Johnson administration, and purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867.

There were at least four conspirators in addition to Booth involved in the mayhem(violent disorder or confusion). Booth was shot and captured while hiding in a barn near Bowling Green, Virginia, and died later the same day, April 26, 1865. Four co-conspirators, Paine, George Atzerodt, David Herold, and Mary Surratt, were hanged at the gallows(绞架) of the Old Penitentiary（监狱）, on the site of present-day Fort McNair, on July 7, 1865

American poet Walt Whitman, along with the rest of the country, mourned the death of Abraham Lincoln. He wrote this poem in his honor.

Captain! my Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

Quotations from Lincoln

\of democracy. Whatever differs from this, to the extent of the difference, is no democracy\Letter, August 1858

\this voyage, nobody will have a chance to pilot her on another voyage. \ Speech, Cleveland, Ohio, February 15, 1861

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