First Chronicler: Two years again.
Desolation of battle, and long debate,
Counsels and prayers of men,
And bitterness of destruction and witless hate,
And the shame of lie contending with lie,
Are spending themselves, and the brain
That set its lonely chart four years gone by,
Knowing the word fulfilled,
Comes with charity and communion to bring
To reckoning,
To reconcile and build.

The two together: What victor coming from the field
Leaving the victim desolate,
But has a vulnerable shield
Against the substances of fate?
That battle’s won that leads in chains
But retribution and despite,
And bids misfortune count her gains
Not stricken in a penal night.

His triumph is but bitterness
Who looks not to the starry doom
When proud and humble but possess
The little kingdom of the tomb.

Who, striking home, shall not forgive,
Strikes with a weak returning rod,
Claiming a fond prerogative
Against the armoury of God.

Who knows, and for his knowledge stands
Against the darkness in dispute,
And dedicates industrious hands,
And keeps a spirit resolute,
Prevailing in the battle, then
A steward of his word is made,
To bring it honour among men,
Or know his captaincy betrayed.

SCENE V.

An April evening in 1865. A farmhouse near Appomattox. GENERAL GRANT, Commander-in-Chief, under Lincoln, of the Northern armies, is seated at a table with CAPTAIN MALINS, an aide-de-camp. He is smoking a cigar, and at intervals he replenishes his glass of whiskey. DENNIS, an orderly, sits at a table in the corner, writing.

Grant (consulting a large watch lying in front of him): An hour and a half. There ought to be something more from Meade by now. Dennis.

Dennis (coming to the table): Yes, sir.

Grant: Take these papers to Captain Templeman, and ask Colonel West if the twenty-third are in action yet. Tell the cook to send some soup at ten o’clock. Say it was cold yesterday.

Dennis: Yes, sir.

He goes.

Grant: Give me that map, Malins.

MALINS hands him the map at which he is working.

(After studying it in silence): Yes. There’s no doubt about it. Unless Meade goes to sleep it can only be a question of hours. Lee’s a great man, but he can’t get out of that.

Making a ring on the map with his finger.

Malins (taking the map again): This ought to be the end, sir.

Grant: Yes. If Lee surrenders, we can all pack up for home.

Malins: By God, sir, it will be splendid, won’t it, to be back again?

Grant: By God, sir, it will.

Malins: I beg your pardon, sir.

Grant: You’re quite right, Malins. My boy goes away to school next week. Now I may be able to go down with him and see him settled.

DENNIS comes back.

Dennis: Colonel West says, yes, sir, for the last half-hour. The cook says he’s sorry, sir. It was a mistake.

Grant: Tell him to keep his mistakes in the kitchen.

Dennis: I will, sir.

He goes back to his place.

Grant (at his papers): Those rifles went up this afternoon?

Malins: Yes, sir.

Another ORDERLY comes in.

Orderly: Mr. Lincoln has just arrived, sir. He’s in the yard now.

Grant: All right, I’ll come.

THE ORDERLY goes. GRANT rises and crosses to the door, but is met there by LINCOLN and HAY. LINCOLN, in top boots and tall hat that has seen many campaigns, shakes hands with GRANT and takes MALINS’S salute.

Grant: I wasn’t expecting you, sir.

Lincoln: No; but I couldn’t keep away. How’s it going?

They sit.

Grant: Meade sent word an hour and a half ago that Lee was surrounded all but two miles, which was closing in.

Lincoln: That ought about to settle it, eh?

Grant: Unless anything goes wrong in those two miles, sir. I’m expecting a further report from Meade every minute.

Lincoln: Would there be more fighting?

Grant: It will probably mean fighting through the night, more or less. But Lee must realise it’s hopeless by the morning.

An Orderly (entering): A despatch, sir.

Grant: Yes.

THE ORDERLY goes, and a YOUNG OFFICER comes in from the field. He salutes and hands a despatch to GRANT.

Officer: From General Meade, sir.

Grant (taking it): Thank you.

He opens it and reads.

You needn’t wait.

THE OFFICER salutes and goes.

Yes, they’ve closed the ring. Meade gives them ten hours. It’s timed at eight. That’s six o’clock in the morning.

He hands the despatch to LINCOLN.

Lincoln: We must be merciful. Bob Lee has been a gallant fellow.

Grant (taking a paper): Perhaps you’ll look through this list, sir. I hope it’s the last we shall have.

Lincoln (taking the paper): It’s a horrible part of the business, Grant. Any shootings?

Grant: One.

Lincoln: Damn it, Grant, why can’t you do without it? No, no, of course not? Who is it?

Grant: Malins.

Malins (opening a book): William Scott, sir. It’s rather a hard case.

Lincoln: What is it?

Malins: He had just done a heavy march, sir, and volunteered for double guard duty to relieve a sick friend. He was found asleep at his post.

He shuts the book.

Grant: I was anxious to spare him. But it couldn’t be done. It was a critical place, at a gravely critical time.

Lincoln: When is it to be?

Matins: To-morrow, at daybreak, sir.

Lincoln: I don’t see that it will do him any good to be shot. Where is he?

Malins: Here, sir.

Lincoln: Can I go and see him?

Grant: Where is he?

Malins: In the barn, I believe, sir.

Grant: Dennis.

Dennis (coming from his table): Yes, sir.

Grant: Ask them to bring Scott in here.

DENNIS goes.

I want to see Colonel West. Malins, ask Templeman if those figures are ready yet.

He goes, and MALINS follows.

Lincoln: Will you, Hay?

HAY goes. After a moment, during which LINCOLN takes the book that MALINS has been reading from, and looks into it, WILLIAM SCOTT is brought in under guard. He is a boy of twenty.

Lincoln (to the GUARD): Thank you. Wait outside, will you?

The MEN salute and withdraw.

Are you William Scott?

Scott: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: You know who I am?

Scott: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: The General tells me you’ve been court-martialled.

Scott: Yes sir.

Lincoln: Asleep on guard?

Scott: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: It’s a very serious offence.

Scott: I know, sir.

Lincoln: What was it?

Scott (a pause): I couldn’t keep awake, sir.

Lincoln: You’d had a long march?

Scott: Twenty-three miles, sir.

Lincoln: You were doing double guard?

Scott: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: Who ordered you?

Scott: Well, sir, I offered.

Lincoln: Why?

Scott: Enoch White he was sick, sir. We come from the same place.

Lincoln: Where’s that?

Scott: Vermont, sir.

Lincoln: You live there?

Scott: Yes, sir. My ... we’ve got a farm down there, sir.

Lincoln: Who has?

Scott: My mother, sir. I’ve got her photograph, sir.

He takes it from his pocket.

Lincoln (taking it): Does she know about this?

Scott: For God’s sake, don’t, sir.

Lincoln: There, there, my boy. You’re not going to be shot.

Scott (after a pause): Not going to be shot, sir.

Lincoln: No, no.

Scott: Not going to be shot.

He breaks down, sobbing.

Lincoln (rising and going to him): There, there. I believe you when you tell me that you couldn’t keep awake. I’m going to trust you, and send you back to your regiment.

He goes back to his seat.

Scott: When may I go back, sir?

Lincoln: You can go back to-morrow. I expect the fighting will be over, though.

Scott: Is it over yet, sir?

Lincoln: Not quite.

Scott: Please, sir, let me go back to-night let me go back to-night.

Lincoln: Very well.

He writes.

Do you know where General Meade is?

Scott: No, sir.

Lincoln: Ask one of those men to come here.

SCOTT calls one of his guards in.

Lincoln: Your prisoner is discharged. Take him at once to General
Meade with this.

He hands a note to the man.

The Soldier: Yes, sir.

Scott: Thank you, sir.

He salutes and goes out with the SOLDIER.

Lincoln: Hay.

Hay (outside): Yes, sir.

He comes in.

Lincoln: What’s the time?

Hay (looking at the watch on the table): Just on half-past nine, sir.

Lincoln: I shall sleep here for a little. You’d better shake down too. They’ll wake us if there’s any news.

LINCOLN wraps himself up on two chairs.

HAY follows suit on a bench. After a few moments GRANT comes to the door, sees what has happened, blows out the candles quietly, and goes away.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

The First Chronicler: Under the stars an end is made,
And on the field the Southern blade
Lies broken,
And, where strife was, shall union be,
And, where was bondage, liberty.
The word is spoken....
Night passes.

The Curtain rises on the same scene, LINCOLN and HAY still lying asleep. The light of dawn fills the room. The ORDERLY comes in with two smoking cups of coffee and some biscuits. LINCOLN wakes.

Lincoln: Good-morning.

Orderly: Good-morning, sir.

Lincoln (taking coffee and biscuits): Thank you.

The ORDERLY turns to HAY, who sleeps on, and he hesitates.

Lincoln: Hay. (Shouting.) Hay.

Hay (starting up): Hullo! What the devil is it? I beg your pardon, sir.

Lincoln: Not at all. Take a little coffee.

Hay: Thank you, sir.

He takes coffee and biscuits. The ORDERLY goes.

Lincoln: Slept well, Hay?

Hay: I feel a little crumpled, sir. I think I fell off once.

Lincoln: What’s the time?

Hay (looking at the watch): Six o’clock, sir.

GRANT comes in.

Grant: Good-morning, sir; good-morning, Hay.

Lincoln: Good-morning, general.

Hay: Good-morning, sir.

Grant: I didn’t disturb you last night. A message has just come from Meade. Lee asked for an armistice at four o’clock.

Lincoln (after a silence): For four years life has been but the hope of this moment. It is strange how simple it is when it comes. Grant, you’ve served the country very truly. And you’ve made my work possible.

He takes his hand.

Thank you.

Grant: Had I failed, the fault would not have been yours, sir. I succeeded because you believed in me.

Lincoln: Where is Lee?

Grant: He’s coming here. Meade should arrive directly.

Lincoln: Where will Lee wait?

Grant: There’s a room ready for him. Will you receive him, sir?

Lincoln: No, no, Grant. That’s your affair. You are to mention no political matters. Be generous. But I needn’t say that.

Grant (taking a paper from his pocket): Those are the terms I suggest.

Lincoln (reading): Yes, yes. They do you honour.

He places the paper on the table. An ORDERLY comes in.

Orderly: General Meade is here, sir.

Grant: Ask him to come here.

Orderly: Yes, sir.

He goes.

Grant: I learnt a good deal from Robert Lee in early days. He’s a better man than most of us. This business will go pretty near the heart, sir.

Lincoln: I’m glad it’s to be done by a brave gentleman, Grant.

GENERAL MEADE and CAPTAIN SONE, his aide-de-camp, come in. MEADE salutes. Lincoln: Congratulations, Meade. You’ve done well.

Meade: Thank you, sir.

Grant: Was there much more fighting?

Meade: Pretty hot for an hour or two.

Grant: How long will Lee be?

Meade: Only a few minutes, I should say, sir.

Grant: You said nothing about terms?

Meade: No, sir.

Lincoln: Did a boy Scott come to you?

Meade: Yes, sir. He went into action at once. He was killed, wasn’t he, Sone?

Sone: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: Killed? It’s a queer world, Grant.

Meade: Is there any proclamation to be made, sir, about the rebels?

Grant: I

Lincoln: No, no. I’ll have nothing of hanging or shooting these men, even the worst of them. Frighten them out of the country, open the gates, let down the bars, scare them off. Shoo!

He flings out his arms.

Good-bye, Grant. Report at Washington as soon as you can.

He shakes hands with him.

Good-bye, gentlemen. Come along, Hay.

MEADE salutes and LINCOLN goes, followed by HAY.

Grant: Who is with Lee?

Meade: Only one of his staff, sir.

Grant: You might see Malins, will you, Sone, and let us know directly General Lee comes.

Sone: Yes, sir. He goes out.

Grant: Well, Meade, it’s been a big job.

Meade: Yes, sir.

Grant: We’ve had courage and determination. And we’ve had wits, to beat a great soldier. I’d say that to any man. But it’s Abraham Lincoln, Meade, who has kept us a great cause clean to fight for. It does a man’s heart good to know he’s given victory to such a man to handle. A glass, Meade? (Pouring out whiskey.) No? (Drinking.)

Do you know, Meade, there were fools who wanted me to oppose Lincoln for the next Presidency. I’ve got my vanities, but I know better than that.

MALINS comes in.

Malins: General Lee is here, sir.

Grant: Meade, will General Lee do me the honour of meeting me here?

MEADE salutes and goes.

Where the deuce is my hat, Malins? And sword.

Malins: Here, sir.

MALINS gets them for him. MEADE and SONE come in, and stand by the door at attention. ROBERT LEE, General-in-Chief of the Confederate forces, comes in, followed by one of his staff. The days of critical anxiety through which he has just lived have marked themselves on LEE’S face, but his groomed and punctilious toilet contrasts pointedly with GRANT’S unconsidered appearance. The two commanders face each other. GRANT salutes, and LEE replies.

Grant: Sir, you have given me occasion to be proud of my opponent.

Lee: I have not spared my strength. I acknowledge its defeat.

Grant: You have come

Lee: To ask upon what terms you will accept surrender. Yes.

Grant (taking the paper from the table and handing it to LEE): They are simple. I hope you will not find them ungenerous.

Lee (having read the terms): You are magnanimous, sir. May I make one submission?

Grant: It would be a privilege if I could consider it.

Lee: You allow our officers to keep their horses. That is gracious. Our cavalry troopers’ horses also are their own.

Grant: I understand. They will be needed on the farms. It shall be done.

Lee: I thank you. It will do much towards conciliating our people. I accept your terms.

LEE unbuckles his sword, and offers it to GRANT.

Grant: No, no. I should have included that. It has but one rightful place. I beg you.

LEE replaces his sword. GRANT offers his hand and LEE takes it. They salute, and LEE turns to go.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.