We arrived at Charlotte on April 18th; and I there received, at the moment of dismounting, a telegram announcing that President Lincoln had been assassinated. An influential citizen of the town, who had come to welcome me, was standing near me, and after remarking to him in a low voice that I had received sad intelligence, I handed the telegram to him. Some troopers had collected to see me; they called to the gentleman who had the dispatch to read it. He complied with their request, and a few only taking in the fact, but not appreciating the evil it portended, cheered, as was natural, at the news of the fall of one they considered as their most powerful foe. […] For an enemy so relentless in the war for our subjugation, we could not be expected to mourn; yet, in view of its political consequences, it could not be regarded otherwise than as a great misfortune to the South. He had power over the Northern people, and was without personal malignity toward the people of the South. His successor was without power in the North, and the embodiment of malignity toward the Southern people, perhaps the more so because he had betrayed and deserted them in the hour of their need. Jefferson Davis, The Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government, Volume 2, chapter 54.