1S3.I?3 Ll3&Ca DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY DURHAM, N. C. Rec’d /.• / 7 25 A. 7? . Tyityu^h - Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/innerlifeofabrah01carp SE MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. THE INNER LIFE . OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 9 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. BY F. B. CARPENTER. L • TWENTY-FO UR TH THO USAND. < 33 / \! derbolt was launched, and, like the first gun at Con- cord, “ was heard around the world,” all the enthu- siasm of my nature was kindled. The “ beast ” Secession, offspring of the “ dragon ” Slavery, draw- ing in his train a third part of our national stars, was pierced with the deadly wound which could not be healed. It was the combat between Michael and Satan of Apocalyptic vision, reenacted before the eyes of the nineteenth century. IV. To paint a picture which should commemorate this new epoch in the history of Liberty, was a 12 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. / dream which took form and shape in my mind to* wards the close of the year 1863, — the year made memorable in its dawn by the issue of the final de- cree. With little experience to adapt me for the execution of such a work, there had nevertheless come to me at times glowing conceptions of the true purpose and character of Art, and an intense desire to do something expressive of appreciation of the great issues involved in the wax’. The painters of old had delighted in representations of the birth from the ocean of A r enus, the goddess of love. Ninety years ago upon this Western continent had been witnessed — no dream of fable, but a substan- tial fact — the immaculate conception of Constitu- tional Liberty ; and at length through gi*eat ti’avail its consummation had been reached. The long- prayed-for year of jubilee had come ; the bonds of the oppressed were loosed ; the prison doors were opened. “Behold,” said a voice, “how a Man may be exalted to a dignity and glory almost divine, and give freedom to a race. Surely Art should unite with Eloquence and Poetry to celebi’ate such a theme.” I conceived of that band of men, upon whom the eyes of the world centred as never before upon ministers of state, gathered in council, depressed, perhaps disheartened at the vain efforts of many months to restore the supremacy of the govern- ment. I saw, in thought, the head of the nation, bowed down with his weight of care and l’esponsi- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 13 bility, solemnly announcing, as he unfolded the pre- pared draft of the Proclamation, that the time for the inauguration of this policy had arrived ; I en- deavored to imagine the conflicting emotions of satisfaction, doubt, and* distrust with which such an announcement would be received by men of the varied characteristics of the assembled councillors. For several weeks the design of the picture was slowly maturing, during which time, however, no line was drawn upon paper or canvas. Late one evening, absorbed in thought upon the subject, I took up an unframed photograph lying carelessly in my room, and upon the blank side of this, roughly and hastily sketched, was embodied the central idea of the composition as it had shaped itself in my mind. - To one disposed to look for coincidences in daily life, and regard its events as no mere succession of accidents, there must often come those which wear a deep significance. In seeking a point of unity or action for the picture, I was impressed with the conviction that important modifications followed the reading of the Proclamation at the suggestion of the Secretary of State, and I determined upon such an incident as the moment of time to be repre- sented. I was subsequently surprised and gratified when Mr. Lincoln himself, reciting the history of the Proclamation to me, dwelt particularly upon ' the fact that not only was the time of its issue de- cided by Secretary Seward’s advice, but that one 14 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. of the most important words in the document was added through his strenuous representations. The central thought of the picture once decided upon and embodied, the rest naturally followed ; one after another the seven figures surrounding the President dropped into their places. Those sup- posed to have held the purpose of the Proclamation as their long conviction, were placed prominently in the foreground in attitudes which indicated their support of the measure ; the others were represented in varying moods of discussion or silent deliberation. A few evenings after the completion of the de- sign I went to see a friend who I knew was inti- mate with the Hon. Schuyler Colfax and Hon. Owen Lovejoy, through whom I hoped to obtain Mr. Lincoln’s assent to'' my plan. I revealed to him my purpose, and asked his assistance in carry- ing; it into effect. During the following week he went to Washington, and in company with Mr. Colfax called upon the President, and laid before him my project. He kindly listened to the details, and then said : “ In short, if I understand you, you wish me to consent to sit to this artist for tho picture ? ” My friends acknowledged this to be the object of their errand. Mr. Lincoln at once, with his accustomed kindness, promised his cooperation. The last day of the year the Hon. Mr. Lovejoy, ‘whom I had never met, but who had become warmly interested in the execution of the work, being in New York, called at my studio with the wife of my SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 15 friend, who had been my earnest advocate. At the close of the interview he remarked, in his quaint way, taking me by the hand, “ In the words of Scripture, my good friend, I can say now I believe, not on account of the saying of the woman, but because I have seen for myself.” V. Impracticable as my scheme had at first seemed, the way was thus opened for its execution. When fairly committed to the purpose, however, the want of means and the magnitude of the undertaking al- most disheartened me. My original plan embraced a canvas sufficiently large for a life-size group of the President and entire Cabinet ; to paint such a picture would consume many months, perhaps years. Enthusiasm alone would never accomplish the work. The few friends to whom I should have felt at liberty to apply for help were not wealthy. Who outside of these could be persuaded that a work of the character and proportions contemplated, undertaken by an artist of no experience in his- torical studies, would not end in utter failure ? I had left my home at the usual hour one morn- ing, pondering the difficulty which, like Bunyan’s lions, seemed now to block the way. As one alter- native after another presented itself to my mind and was rejected, the prospect appeared less and less hopeful. I at length found myself in Broadway at 16 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. the foot of the stairs leading up to my studio. A gentleman at this moment attracted my attention, standing with his back towards me, looking at some pictures exposed in the window of the shop below. Detecting, as I thought, something familiar in his air and manner, I waited until he turned his face, and then found I was not mistaken ; it was an old acquaintance who five years before lived near me in Brooklyn, engaged in a similar struggle for a liveli- hood with myself, though his profession was law instead of art. We had both changed our residences and had not met for years. After a cordial greeting, he ac- cepted my invitation to ascend to the studio. I had heard that he had been successful in some business ventures, but the matter made but little impression upon me, and had been forgotten. Suddenly there seemed to come into my mind the words : “ This man has been sent to you.” Full of the singular impression, I laid before him my conception. He heard me through, and then asked if I was sure of Prssident Lincoln’s consent and cooperation. I informed him of the pledge which had been given me. “ Then,” said he, “ you shall paint the pict- ure. Take plenty of time, — make it the great work of your life, — and draw upon me for what- ever funds you will require to the end.” * * To Mr. Samuel, Sinclair, of the New York Tribune, for the intro- duction to Mr. Lincoln, and to Frederick A. Lane, Esq., of New Fork, for the generous aid thus extended, I shall ever he indebted for the accomplishment of my work. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 17 YI. On the evening of February 4th, 1864, I went to Washington. Shortly after noon of the follow- ing day, I rang the bell at Mr. Lovejoy’s residence on Fifteenth Street. To my sorrow, I found him very ill; but it was hoped by his friends that he was then improving. Though very feeble, he in- sisted upon seeing me, and calling for writing mate- rials, sat up in bed to indite a note introducing me to the President. This, handed to me open, I 'read. One expression I have not forgotten, it w r as so like Mr. Lincoln himself, as I afterward came to know him. “ I am gaining very slowly. — It is hard work drawing the sled up-hill.” And this suggests the similarity there was between these men. Lovejoy had much more of the agitator, the reformer, in his nature, but both drew the inspira- tion of their lives from the same source, and it was founded in sterling honesty. Their modes of thought and illustration were remarkably alike. It is not strange that they should have been bosom friends. The President called repeatedly to see him during his illness ; and it was on one of these occa- sions that he said to him, “ This war is eating my life out ; I have a strong impression that I shall not live to see the end.” Mr. Lovejoy’s health subsequently improved, and for a change he went to Brooklyn, N. Y., where, it will be remembered. 18 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. he had a relapse, and died, universally mourned as one of the truest and most faithful of our states- men. Mr. Lincoln did not hear from him directly after he left Washington. Through a friend I learned by letter that he was lying at the point of death. This intelligence I communicated to the President the same evening, in the vestibule of the White House, — meeting him on his way to the War Department. He was deeply affected by it. His only words were, “Lovejoy was the best friend I had in Congress.” To return from this pardonable digression, — I took the note of introduction at once to the White* House ; but no opportunity was afforded me of presenting it during the day. The following morn- ing passed with the same result, and I then resolved to avail myself of Mrs. Lincoln’s Saturday after- noon reception — at which, I was told, the President would be present — to make myself known to him. Two o’clock found me one of the throng pressing toward the centre of attraction, the “blue” room. From the threshold of the “ crimson ” parlor as I passed, I had a glimpse of the gaunt figure of Mr. Lincoln in the distance, haggard - looking, dressed in black, relieved only by the prescribed white gloves ; standing, it seemed to me, solitary and alone, though surrounded by the crowd, bend- ing low now and then in the process of hand- shaking, and responding half abstractedly to the SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 19 well-meant greetings of the miscellaneous assem- blage. Never shall I forget the electric thrill which went through my whole being at this instant. I seemed to see lines radiating from every part of the globe, converging to a focus at the point where that plain, awkward-looking man stood, and to hear in spirit a million prayers, “ as the sound of many waters,” ascending in his behalf. Mingled with supplication I could discern a clear symphony of triumph and blessing, swelling with an ever-increas- ing volume. It was the voice of those who had been bondmen and bondwomen, and the grand • diapason swept up from the coming ages. It was soon my privilege, in the regular succes- sion, to take that honored hand. Accompanying the act, my name and profession were announced to him in a low tone by one of the assistant private secretaries, who stood by his side. Retaining my hand, he looked at me inquiringly for an instant, and said, “ Oh yes ; I know ; this is the painter.” Then sti-aightening himself to his full height, with a twinkle of the eye, he added, playfully, “ Do you think, Mr. C , that you can make a hand- some picture of me ? ” emphasizing strongly the last word. Somewhat confused at this point-blank shot, uttered in a tone so loud as to attract the attention of those in immediate proximity, I made a random reply, and took the occasion to ask if I could see him in his study at the close of 20 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. the reception. To this he responded in the peculiar vernacular of the West, “ I reckon,” resuming meanwhile the mechanical and tradi- tional exercise of the hand which no President has ever yet been able to avoid, and which, se- vere as is the ordeal, is likely to attach to the position, so long as the Republic endures. VII. The appointed hour found me at the well-remem- bered door of the official chamber, — that door watched daily, with so many conflicting emotions* of hope and fear, by the anxious throng regularly gathered there. The President had preceded me, and was already deep in Acts of Congress, with which the writing-desk was strewed, awaiting his signature. He received me pleasantly, giving me a seat near his own arm-chair ; and after having read Mr. Lovejoy’s note, he took off his spectacles, and said, “Well, Mr. C— — , we will turn you in loose here, and try to give you a good chance tQ. work out your idea.” Then, without paying much attention to the enthusiastic expression of my am- bitious desire and purpose, he proceeded to give me a detailed account of the history and issue of the great proclamation. “ It had got to be,” said he, “ midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 21 plan of operations we had been pursuing ; tnat we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the game ! I now determined upon the adoption of the emancipation policy ; and, without consultation with, or the knowledge of the Cabinet, I prepared the original draft of the proc- lamation, and, after much anxious thought, called a Cabinet meeting upon the subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of the month of August, 1862.” (The exact date he did not remember.) “ This Cabinet meeting took place, I think, upon a Saturday. All were present, excepting Mr. Blair, •the Postmaster-General, who was absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subse- quently. I said to the Cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject-matter of a proclamation before them ; suggestions as to which would be in order, after they had heard it read. Mr. Lovejoy,” said he, “ was in error when he in- formed you that it excited no comment, excepting on the part of Secretary Seward. Various sug-’ gestions were offered. Secretary Chase wished the language stronger in reference to the arming of the blacks. Mr. Blair, after he came in, deprecated the policy, on the ground that it would cost the Admin- istration the fall elections. Nothing, however, was offered that I had not already fully anticipated and settled in my own mind, until Secretary Seward spoke. He said in substance : ‘ Mr. President, I 22 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. approve of the proclamation, but I question the ex- pediency of its issue at this juncture. The depres- sion of the public mind, consequent upon our repeated reverses, is so great that I fear the effect of so important a step. It may be viewed as the last measure of an exhausted government, a cry for help ; the government stretching forth its hands to Ethiopia, instead of Ethiopia stretching forth her hands to the government.’ His idea,” said the President, “ was that it would be considered our last shriek , on the retreat.” (This was his precise ex- pression.) “ ‘ Now,’ continued Mr. Seward, ‘ while I approve the measure, I suggest, sir, that you post- pone its issue, until you can give it to the country supported by military success, instead of issuing it, as would be the case now, upon the greatest disasters of the war ! ’ ” Mr. Lincoln continued : “ The wisdom of the view of the Secretary of State struck me with very great force. It was an aspect of the case that, in all my thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked. The result was that I put the draft of the proclamation aside, as you do your sketch for a picture, waiting for a victory. From time to time I added or changed a line, touching it up here and there, anxiously watching the progress of events. Well, the next news we had was of Pope’s disaster, at Bull Run. Things looked darker than ever. Finally, came the week of the battle of Antietam. I determined to wait no longer. The news came, I think, on Wednesday, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 23 tnat the advantage was on our side. I was then staying at the Soldiers’ Home, (three miles out of Washington.) Here I finished writing the sec- ond draft of the preliminary proclamation ; came up on Saturday ; called the Cabinet together to hear it, and it was published the following Monday.” At the final meeting of September 20th, another interesting incident occurred in connection with Secretary Seward. The President had written the important part of the proclamation in these words : — “ That, on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty- three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free ; and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom.” “ When I finished read- ing this paragraph,” resumed Mr. Lincoln, “ Mr. Seward stopped me, and said, ‘ I think, Mr. Pres- ident, that you should insert after the word “ recog- nize,'’ in that sentence, the words “ and maintain.' 1 ' ’ I replied that I had already fully considered the import of that expression in this connection, but I had not introduced it, because it was not my way 24 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. to promise what I was not entirely sure that ] could perform, and I was not prepared to say that I thought we were exactly able to ‘ maintain ’ this.” “ But,” said he, “ Seward insisted that we ought to take this ground ; and the words finally went in ! ” “ It is a somewhat remarkable fact,” he subse- quently remarked, “ that there were just one hun- dred days between the dates of the two proclama- tions issued upon the 22d of September and the 1st of January. I had not made the calculation at the time.” Having concluded this interesting statement, the President then proceeded to show me the various positions occupied by himself and the different members of the Cabinet, on the occasion of the first meeting. “ As nearly as I remember,” said he, “ I sat near the head of the table ; the Secretary of the Treasury and the Secretary of War were here, at my right hand ; the others were grouped at the left.” At this point, I exhibited to him a pencil sketch of the composition as I had conceived it, with no knowledge of the facts or details. The leading idea of this I found, as I have stated on a previous page, to be entirely consistent with the account I had just heard. I saw, however, that I should have to reverse the picture, placing the President at the other end of the table, to make it accord with his description. I had resolved to discard all SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 25 appliances and tricks of picture-making, and en- deavor, as 'faithfully as possible, to represent the scene as it actually transpired ; room, furniture, accessories, all were to be painted from the actual- ities. It was a scene second only in historical im- portance and interest to that of the Declaration of Independence ; and I felt assured, that, if hon- estly and earnestly painted, it need borrow no in- terest from imaginary curtain or column, gorgeous furniture or allegorical statue. Assenting heartily to what is called the “ realistic ” school of art, when applied to the illustration of historic events, I felt in this case, that I had no more right to de- part from the facts, than has the historian in his record. When friends said to me, as they frequently did, “ Your picture will be bald and barren,” my re- ply was, “ If I cannot make the portraiture of the scene itself sufficiently attractive without the false glitter of tapestry hangings, velvet table-cloths, and marble columns, then I shall at least have the satis- faction of having failed in the cause of truth.” I reasoned in this way: The most important docu- ment submitted to a cabinet during our exist nice- as a nation is under discussion. A spectator per- mitted to look in upon that scene would give little thought and small heed to the mere accessories and adjuncts of the occasion . His mind would centre upon the immortal document, — its anxious author, conscious of his solemn responsibility, announcing 26 SIX JIOXTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. his matured and inflexible purpose to his assem- bled councillors. He would listen with mpar- alleled eagerness to the momentous sentences uttered for the first time in the ears of men, and to the discussion upon them, impatient of mere formalities and technicalities. Should a thought he sprung of important bearing, or an overlooked con- tingency be brought forward, how intently would its effect be watched. What varying emotions, consequent upon peculiarities of temperament and character, would he expressed in the countenances of the different individuals composing the group. How each in turn would he scanned. Above all, the issues involved : — the salvation of the Republic — the freedom of a Race. “ Surely,” I said, “ such a scene may be painted, and abiding if not absorbing interest secured, without the aid of conventional trappings. The republican simplicity of the room and furniture, with its thronging associations, will more than counterbalance the lack of splendor, and the artistic mania for effect. I will depend solely for my success upon the interest of the subject, and its truthfulness of representation.” And this purpose I carried with me to the end. VIII. The first sketch of the composition, as it was afterward placed upon the canvas, was matured, 1 believe, the 6ame afternoon, or the following Mon- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE *HOUSE. 27 day after the interview recorded above, upon the back of a visiting card ; my pockets affording evi- dence of the employment of all loose material at hand in leisure moments, in the study of the work. The final arrangement of the figures was the result of much thought and many combina- tions, though the original conception as to the jnoment of time and incident of action was pre- served throughout. The general arrangement of the group, as described by the President, was for- tunately entirely consistent with my purpose, which was to give that prominence to the different indi- vidual which belonged to them respectively in the Administration. There was a curious mingling of fact and allegory in my mind, as I assigned to each his place on the canvas. There were two elements in the Cabinet, the radical and the conservative. Mr. Lincoln was placed at the head of the offi- cial table, between two groups, nearest that repre- senting the radical, but the uniting point of both. The chief powers of a government are War and Finance : the ministers of these were at his right, — the Secretary of War, symbolizing the great struggle, in the immediate foreground ; the Sec- retary of the Treasury, actively supporting the new policy, standing by the President’s side. The Army being the right hand, the Navy may very properly be styled the left hand of the govern- ment. The place for the Secretary of the Navy leemed, therefore, very naturally to be on Mr. Lin- 28 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. coin’s left, at the rear of the table. To the Secretary of State, as the great expounder of the principles of the Republican party, the profound and sagacious statesman, would the attention of all at such a time be given. Entitled to precedence in discussion by his position in the Cabinet, he would necessarily form one of the central figures of the group. The four chief officers of the government were thus brought,^ in accordance with their relations to the Admin- istration, nearest the person of the President, who, with the manuscript proclamation in hand, which he had just read, was represented leaning forward, listening to, and intently considering the views pre- sented by the Secretary of State. The Attorney- General, absorbed in the constitutional questions involved, with folded arms, was placed at the foot of the table opposite the President. The Secre- tary of the Interior and the Postmaster-General, ■occupying the less conspicuous positions of the Cabinet, seemed to take their proper places in the background of the picture. When, at length, the conception as thus de- scribed was sketched upon the large canvas, and Mr. Lincoln came in to see it, his gratifying re- mark, often subsequently repeated, was, “ It is as good as it can be made.” SIX MONTHS AT THK WHITE HOUSE. 29 IX. I have thus revealed, step by step, th~ mental process by which the picture of which I write came into being. Whether the story bears any analogy to that by which the works of others have been produced, or the composition c informs to established rules and precedents in art or not, is to me a matter of indifference. I was true to my intuitions, and endeavored to adhere as faithfully as practicable to the facts. It is not my purpose to follow in detail the progress, thenceforward, of the work. As the thread upon which are strung my memories of the late President, allusions to it will be unavoid- able throughout these pages ; but hereafter I in- tend that they shall be subordinate and incidental to matters of more general interest. It is not too much to say that the enthusiasm in which the work was conceived, flagged not to the end. The days were too short for labor upon it. Lighting at nightfall the great chandeljer of the state dining- ' room, which was finally assigned me for a studio instead of the library, where the windows were shaded bv the portico, the morning light frequently broke in upon me still standing pencil or palette in hand, before the immense canvas, unable to break the spell which bound me to it. 30 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. X. “We will turn you in loose here,” proved* an “ open sesame ” to me during the subsequent months of my occupation at the White House. My access to the official chamber was made nearly as free as that of the private secretaries, unless SDceial business was being transacted. Sometimes a stranger, approaching the President with a low tone, would turn an inquiring eye toward the place where I sat, absorbed frequently in a pencil sketch of some object in the room. This would be met by the hearty tones of Mr. Lincoln, — I can hear them yet ringing in my ears-, — “ Oh, you need not mind him ; he is. but a painter.” There was a satisfaction to me, differing from that of any other experience, in simply sitting with him. Ab- sorbed in his papers, he would becofhe unconscious of my presence, while I intently studied every line and shade of expression in that furrowed face. In repose, it was the saddest face I ever knew. Thei’e were days when I could. scarcely look into it with- out crying. During the first week of the battles of t he Wilderness he scarcely slept at all,. Passing ^through the main hall- of the domestic apartment on one of these days, I met him, clad in a long morning wrapper, pacing back and forth a narrow passage leading to one of the windows, his hands behind him, great black rings under his eyes, his head bent forward u\?on his breast, — altogether SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 31 such a picture of the effects of sorrow, care, and anxiety as w<5uld have melted the hearts of the worst of his adversaries, who so mistakenly ap- plied to him the epithets of tyrant and usurper. With a sorrow almost divine, he, too, could luue said of the rebellious States, “ How often would i have gathered you together, even -as a hen gat 1 1 - ereth her chickens under her wings, and ye ivoula not!" Like another Jeremiah, he wept over the desolations of the nation ; “ he mourned the slain of the daughter of his people.” Surely, ruler never manifested so much sympa- thy, and tenderness, and charity. How like the last words of the Divine one himself, “ Father, for- give them, for they know not what they do,” will the closing sentences of his last inaugural address resound in solemn cadence through the coming centuries. Truly and well says the London “ Spec- tator” of that address: “We cannot read it with- out a renewed conviction that it is the noblest polit- ical document known to history, and should have for the nation and the statesmen he left behind \ him something of a sacred and almost prophetic character. Surely, none was ever written under a stronger sense of the reality of God’s government. And certainly none written in a period of passion- ate conflict ever so completely -excluded the par- tiality of victorious faction, and breathed so pure a strain of mingled justice and mercy.” 82 six months at the white house. XL The following Tuesday I spent with Mr. Lin- coln in his study. The morning was devoted to the Judge - Advocate - Qeneral, who had a large number of court-martial cases to submit to t lie President. Never had I realized what it was to have power, as on this occasion. As case after case was presented to Mr.. Lincoln, one stroke of his pen confirmed or commuted the sentence of death. In several instances Judge Holt referred to extenuating circumstances, — extreme youth, previous good conduct, or recommendations to mercy. Every excuse of this kind, having a foun- dation in fact, was instantly seized upon by the President, who, taking the document containing the sentence, would write upon the hack of it the lightest penalty consistent with any degree of jus- tice. As he added the date to one of these papers, he remarked casually, varying the subject of con- versation, “ Does your mind, Judge Holt, associate events with dates? Every time this morning that I have had occasion to write the day of the month, tlie thought has come up, ‘ This was General Har- rison’s birthday.’ ” One of the cases brought for- ward at this time I recollect distinctly. The man’s name was Burroughs ; he had been a notorious spy ; convicted and sentenced to death, a strong effort had been made in his behalf by powerful friends. It was a?i aggravated case, but an impression had SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 33 evidently been made upon the President by the strength and pertinacity of the appeal. As Judge Holt opened the record, he stated that a short time previous Burroughs had attempted to escape from confinement, and was shot dead in the act by the sentinel on guard. With an expression of relief, Mr. Lincoln rejoined, “I ought to-be obliged to him for taking his fate into his own hands ; he has saved me a deal of trouble.” During a brief absence of the President, Judge Holt told me that the atrocities of some of the criminals condemned, surpassed belief. “ A gue- rilla leader in Missouri,” said he, “ by the name of Nichols, was in the habit of filling the ears of wounded Unionists who fell into his hands with gunpowder, setting fire to it, and blowing their heads to pieces. When captured, a number of hu- man ears were found upon his person.” Referring to Mr. Lincoln’s disposition to pardon or commute the majority of the death sentences, he remarked, “ The President is without exception the most ten- r der- hearted man I ever knew.” Judge Holt, it will be remembered, was called into Mr. Buchanan’s cabinet towards the close of his administration. Glancing around the room, — incidentally referring to my errand there, — he said, “ This room was the theatre of some very exciting scenes during the last months of Mr. Bu- chanan’s term.” He spoke warmly of the cour- age and fearlessness of Stanton, on those occasions, 3 34 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE who did not hesitate to call traitors and treason their right names. When the clock struck twelve, Mr. Lincoln drew back from the table, and with a stretch of his long arms, remarked, “ I guess we will go no far- ther with these cases to-day ; I am a little tired, and the Cabinet will he coming in soon.” “ I be- lieve, by the by,” he added, “ that I have not yet had my breakfast, — this business has been so ab- sorbing that it has crowded everything else out of my mind.” And so ended the work of one morning ; simple in its detail, but pregnant with hope and joy, dark- ness and death, to many human beings. XII. As the different members of the Cabinet came in, the President introduced me, adding in several instances, — “ He has an idea of painting a picture of us all together.” This, of course, started con- versation on the topic of art. Presently a reference was made by some one to Jones, the sculptor, whose bust of Mr. Lincoln was in the crimson parlor below. The President, I think, was writing at this instant. Looking up, he said, “ Jones tells a good story of General Scott, of whom he once made a bust. Having a fine subject to start with, ne succeeded in giving great satisfaction. At the closing sitting he attempted to define and elab- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 35 orate the lines and markings of the face. The General sat patiently ; but when he came to see the result, his countenance indicated decided dis- pleasure. ‘ Why, Jones, what have you been do- ing?’ he asked. ‘Oh,’ rejoined the sculptor, ‘not much, I confess, General ; I have been working out the details of the face a little more, this morn- ing.’ ‘Details?’ exclaimed the General, warmly ; ‘ the details ! Why, my man, you are spoil- ing the bust ! ’ ” At three o’clock the President was to accompany me, by appointment, to Brady’s photographic gal- leries on Pennsylvania Avenue. The carriage had been ordered, and Mrs. Lincoln, who was to accom- pany us, had come down at the appointed hour, dressed for the ride, when one of those vexations, incident to all households, occurred. Neither car- riage or coachman was to be seen. The President and myself stood upon the threshold of the door under the portico, awaiting the result of the in- quiry for the coachman, when a letter was put into his hand. While he was reading this, people were passing, as is customary, up and down the promenade, which leads through the grounds to the War Department, crossing, of course, the portico. My attention was attracted to an approaching party, apparently a countryman, plainly dressed, with his wife and two little boys, who had evidently been straying about, looking at the places of public inter- est in the city. As they reached the portico, ihe 36 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. father, who was in advance, caught sight of the tall figure of Mr. Lincoln, absorbed in his letter. His wife and the little boys were ascending the steps. The man stopped suddenly, put out his hand with a “ hush ” to his family, and, after a moment's gaze, he bent down and whispered to them, — “There is the President!” Then leaving them, he slowly made a half circuit around Mr. Lincoln, watching him intently all the while. At this point, having finished his letter, the President turned to me, and said: “ Well, we will not wait any longer for the carriage ; it won’t hurt you and me to walk down.” The countryman here approached very diffidently, and asked if he might be allowed to take the President by the hand ; after which, “Would he extend the same privilege to his wife and little boys ? ” Mr. Lincoln good-naturedly ap- proached the latter, who had remained where they were stopped, and, reaching down, said a kind word to the bashful little fellows, who shrank close up to their mother, and did not reply. This simple act filled the father’s cup full. “ The Lord is with you, Mr. President,” he said reverently ; and then, hesitating a moment, he added, with strong emphasis, “ and the people too, sir ; and the people too ! ” The walk, of a mile or more, was made very agreeable and interesting to me by a variety of stories, of which Mr. Lincoln’s mind was so pro- lific. Something was said soon after we started SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 37 About the penalty which attached to high positions in a democratic government — the tribute those filling them were compelled to pay to the pub- lic. “ Great men,” said Mr. Lincoln, “ have vari- ous estimates. When Daniel Webster made his tour through the West years ago, he visited Spring- field among other places, where great preparations had been made to receive him. As the procession was coiner through the town, a barefooted little darkey boy pulled the sleeve of a man named T., and asked, — 1 What the folks were all doing down the street ? ’ ‘ Why, Jack,’ was the reply, 1 the biggest man in the world is coming.’ Now, there lived in Springfield a man by the name of G., — a very corpulent man. Jack darted off down the street, but presently returned, with a very disap- pointed air. ‘ Well, did you see him ? ’ inquired T. ‘ Yees,’ returned Jack ; ‘ but laws — he ain’t half as big as old G.’ ” Shortly afterward, he spoke of Mr. Ewing, who was in both President Harrison’s and President Taylor’s cabinet. “ Those men,” said he, “ were, you know, when elected, both of advanced years, — sages. Ewing had received, in some way, the nickname of ‘ Old Solitude.’ Soon after the for- mation of Taylor’s cabinet, Webster and Ewing happened to meet at an evening party. As they approached each other, Webster, who was in fine spirits, uttered, in his deepest bass tones, the well- known lines, — 38 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. “ ‘ O Solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? ’ ” The evening of Tuesday I dined with Mr. Chase, the Secretary of the Treasury, of whom I painted a portrait in 1855, upon the close of his term as United States Senator. He said during the dinner, that, shortly after the dedication of the cemetery at Gettysburg, the President told this story at a cabinet meeting. “ Thad. Stevens was asked by some one, the morning of the day ap- pointed for that ceremony, where the President and Mr. Seward were going. ‘ To Gettysburg,’ was the reply. ‘ But where are Stanton and Chase ? ’ continued the questioner. ‘ At home, at work,’ was the surly answer ; ‘ let the dead bury the dead.’ ” This was some months pre- vious to the Baltimore Convention, when it was thought by some of the leaders of the party, that Mr. Lincoln’s chances for a re-nomination were somewhat dubious. Levee night occurring weekly, during the regular season, was always a trying one to the President. Whenever sympathy was expressed for him, however, he would turn it off playfully, asserting that the tug at his hand was much easier to bear than that upon his heartstrings for all manner of favors beyond his power to grant, to which he had daily to submit. As I took his hand at the levee, which closed my first day’s experi- ences with him, he said in his homely way, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 39 “ Well, C., you have seen one clay’s run; — what is your opinion of it ? ” XIII. Wednesday morning was devoted to the contin- ued examination of the court-martial cases, to the great vexation of a score of political applicants, whom I could hear impatiently pacing the floor of the hall and waiting-room. At one o’clock, how- ever, the doors were thrown open, and the throng admitted and dismissed, as rapidly as possible. I was mucn amused and interested, later in the day, in a variety of characters who presented them- selves. First was an elderly lady, plainly but comfortably dressed, whose son was a prisoner in Baltimore. Her story, spun out to some length, . was briefly this : Her son had been serving in the Rebel army. He heard that his sister was lying dead at home, and his mother at the supposed point of death. He determined to see them, and succeeded in o;ettino; through our lines undiscov- ered. He found his mother better. Before he got ready o return, he became very ill himself. She said she hid him in the house until he recovered, and on his way back to his regiment he was cap- tured. He was now anxious to take the oath, and his mother assured the President that he should henceforth “ have nothing to do with the Rebels.” Mr. Lincoln sat quietly through the story, 10 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. his face in half shadow. As she finished he said, with some impatience, — “Now this is a pretty story to come to me with, isn’t it? Your son came home from fighting against his country ; he was sick ; you secreted him, nursed him up, and when cured, started him off again to help destroy some more of our boys. Taken prisoner, trying to get through our lines, you now want me to let him off upon his oath.” “Yes,” said the woman, not in the least disconcerted, “ and I give you my word, Mr. President, he shall never have anything more to do with the Rebels — never — I was always opposed to his joining them.” “ Your word,” re- joined Mr. Lincoln dryly, “ what do I know about your word ? ” He finally took the application, and writing something upon the back of it, returned it -to her with the words, “Now, I want you to un- derstand that I have done this just to get rid of you ! ” “ Oh,” said she, “ Mr. President, 1 have always heard that you were such a kind-hearted man, and now I know it is true.” And so, with much apparent satisfaction, she withdrew. The party that followed consisted of a lady and two gentlemen. She had come to ask that her husband, who was also a prisoner of war, might be permitted to take the oath and be released from confinement. To secure a degree of interest on the part of the President, one of the gentlemen claimed to be an acquaintance of Mrs. Lincoln ; this,- however, received but little attention, an 1 the SIX MONTHS AT TI1E WHITE HOUSE. 41 President proceeded to ask what position the lady’s husband held in the Rebel service. “ Oh,” said she, “ he was a captain.” “ A captain /” rejoined Mr. Lincoln, “indeed ! — rather too big a fish to set free simply upon his taking the oath. If he was an officer, it is proof positive that he has been a zealous rebel : I cannot release him.” Here the lady's friend reiterated the assertion of his acquaint- ance with Mrs. Lincoln. Instantly the President’s hand was upon the bell-rope. The usher in attend- ance answered the summons. “ Cornelius, take this man’s name to Mrs. Lincoln, and ask her what she knows of him.” The boy presently returned, with the reply that “ the Madam ” (as she was called by the servants) knew nothing of him what- ever. The man said it was very strange. “ Well, it is just as I suspected,” said the President. The party made one more attempt to enlist his sym- pathy, but without effect. “ It is of no use,” was the reply ; “ I cannot release him ; ” and the trio withdrew, the lady in high displeasure. Next came a Methodist minister by the name of “ G.,” claiming to be the son of the inventor of iron-clad gunboats. Lie had understood that the President appointed the hospital chaplains, and he greatly desired such a place. Mr. Lincoln re- plied rather curtly, that he could do nothing for •him. “But I was told, sir, that these appointments were made by the President,” said the gentleman, very respectfully. “ I will just tell you how that 42 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. is,” was the answer ; “ when there are vacancies I appoint, not without.” The clergyman here alluded to his having left with the private secretary a war- sermon which he had lately preached. Stepping out, he returned with the pamphlet, saying, as he handed it to the President, “ I suppose, sir, you have little time to read anything of this kind ;■ but I shall be very glad to leave it with you.” Upon this he bowed himself out, and the sermon was carelessly tossed aside, never to be thought of again by Mr. Lincoln. • Subsequently the sermon fell into my hands. The only thing I remember about it was the practi- cal application of a professional incident. The clei’gyman one day fell in with two soldiers fighting. One had the other down, and was severely hand- ling him. Rebuking; the men, the one underneath responded very heartily, “ Plase your riverince , I am willing to give up this minute, solely out of respect for your riverince .” And so the preacher thought the South should be made to say “ in re- gard to the Constitution.” XIY. The examples given of the observations of two days, are fair illustrations of the usual White House routine, varied of course by official or dip- lomatic business, and a greater or less pressure of visitors, some of whom would linger in the anteroom SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 43 day after day, waiting admission. The incidents of no two days could of course be alike. I shall never cease to regret that an additional private secretary could not have Jbeen appointed, whose exclusive duty it should have been to look after and keep a record of all cases appealing to executive clemency. It would have afforded full employment for one man, at least ; and such a volume would now be beyond all price. Just before leaving for Washington, I met a brother artist, who, upon learning of my proposed, purpose, laid before me the details of an interest- ing case, concerning his only son, begging me tc bring the circumstances to the President’s knowl- edge. When the war broke out the young man in question was living at the South. Eventually driven into the Rebel service, he was improving his first opportunity to go over to the Union lines, when he vms taken prisoner. His story w r as disbe- lieved, and he had been in prison for more than a year at Alton, Illinois. His father had spent many months in the endeavor to have him released, with- out success. So many formalities and technicalities were in the way that he became completely dis- couraged, and appealed to me as his last hope. The boy was very ill, and he feared if not speedily released, would soon die. Promising the father that I would bear the ease in mind, I improved an opportunity, as soon as I felt sure of having found favor with the President, to speak to him about it. 44 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. I believe it was on the private staircase, that, meet- ing him one evening, I ventured to introduce the subject. I assured him of the entire good faith and loyalty of both father and son. Of course he had never heard of the case before. Considering the subject a moment, he said, “ Come up-stairs by-and-by, and I guess we can fix it up.” An hour later I entered his room, and gave him very briefly the particulars of the case ; reading one or two letters from the young man to his father. “ That will do,” said the President, put- ting on his spectacles, and taking the letter out of my hand, he turned it over and wrote on the back of it, “ Release this man upon his taking the oath. A. Lincoln.” “ There,” said he, “ you can take that over to the War Department yourself, if you choose. You will find it all right.” XY. Wednesday night, February 10th, was an excit- ing one at the White House, the stables belonging to the mansion being burned to the ground. The loss most severely felt was of the two ponies, one of which had belonged to Willie Lincoln, the President’s second son, who died in 1862, and the other to Tad, the youngest, and pet of his father, who in his infancy nicknamed him Tad- pole, subsequently abbreviated to Taddie, and then Tad. His real name is Thomas, named SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 45 for the father of Mr. Lincoln. Upon “ Tad’s ” learning of the loss, he threw himself at full length upon the floor, and could not be comforted. The only allusion I ever heard the President make to Willie was on this occasion, in connection with the loss of his pony. John Hay, the assistant pri- vate secretary, told me that he was rarely known to speak of his lost son. The morning following, the fire, Robert Lincoln came into his father’s office, and said he had a point of law which he wished to submit. It appeared that one of the coachmen had two or three hundred dollars in greenbacks in his room over the sta- bles, which were consumed. Robert said that he and John Hay had been having an argument as to the liability of the government for its notes, where it could be shown that they had been burned, or otherwise destroyed. The President turned the matter over in his mind for a moment, and said, “ The payment of a note presupposes its presenta- tion to the maker of it. It is the sign or symbol of value received ; it is not value itself, that is , clear. At the same time the production of the note seems a necessary warrant for the demand ; and while the moral obligation is as stx'ong without this, governments and banking institutions do not recog- nize any principle beyond the strictly legal. It is an established rule that the citizen cannot sue the government ; therefore, I don’t see but that it is a dead loss for Jehu.” 46 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. About this time a couple of Kentucky gentlemen called. As they rose to take leave, one of them, who may have noticed little Tad, — as he usu- ally spent much time in his father’s office, — said to the President : “ General Crittenden told me an interesting incident about his jon, eight or nine years old, a few days since. A day or two after the battle of Chickamauga, the little fellow came into camp. The General rode during the battle a horse which went by the name of John Jay, a great favorite with his son. Manifesting his de- light upon again seeing his father, bv covering him with caresses, the child at length said, ‘Papa, where is John Jay?’ ‘Oh,’ said his father, ‘your horse behaved very badly during the fight ; he insisted, very cowardly, upon taking me to the rear.’ The little fellow’s eyes sparkled. ‘ Papa,’ said he, ‘ I know John Jay would never have ’one that of his own will. It must have been your work.’ ” Montgomery Blair told me that when the con- vention which nominated Mr. Lincoln met at Chi- cago, there was a hideous painting in the hall which was brought forward subsequently as a likeness of the nominee. Most of the delegates having never seen the original, the effect upon them was indescrib- able. I replied to Mr. Blair that my friend Brady, the photographer, insisted that his photograph of Mr. Lincoln, taken the morning of the day he made his Cooper Institute speech in New York, — SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 47 much the best portrait, by the way, in circulation of him during the campaign, — was the means of his election. That it helped largely to this end I do not doubt. The effect of such influences, though silent, is powerful. Fremont once said to me, that the villanous wood-cut published by the New York “ Tribune,” the next day after his nomi- nation, lost him twenty-five votes in one township, to his certain knowledge. On one of the last days of February, I called, with my friend W , of New York, upon Mr. Lovejoy, who was supposed to be convalescent. He thought himself nearly well again, and was in fine spirits. Indications of an organized movement to bring forward Fremont, as an opposition candi- date to Mr. Lincoln, had recently appeared. Mr. Lovejoy was very severe upon it ; he said, “ Any attempt to divide the party at such a time was criminal in the last degree.” I remember observ- ing that many of the extreme anti-slavery men ap- peared to distrust the President. This drew out his indignant condemnation. “ I tell you?” said he, “ Mr. Lincoln is at heart as strong an anti-slavery man as any of them, but he is compelled to feel his way. He has a responsibility in this matter which many men do not seem to be able to com- orehend. I say to you frankly, that I believe his course to be right. His mind acts slowly, but when he moves, it is forward. You will never find him receding from a position once taken. It is of no 48 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. use talking, or getting up conventions against him. He is going to be the candidate of the Baltimore Convention, and is sure to be reelected. ‘It was foreordained from the foundation of the world.’ I have no sympathy or patience with those who are trying to manufacture issues against him ; but they will not succeed ; he is too strong with the masses. For my part,” he concluded, “ I am not only willing to take Mr. Lincoln for another term, but the same cabinet, right straight through.” 7 o o o XYI. Wednesday, March 2d, I had an unusually long and interesting sitting from the President. I invited Mr. Samuel Sinclair, of New York, who was in Washington, to be present. The news had recently been received of the disaster under General Seymour in Florida. Many newspapers openly charged the President with having sent the expedition with primary reference to restoring the State in season to secure its vote at the forthcom- ing Baltimore Convention. Mr. Lincoln was deeply wounded by these charges. He referred to them during the sitting ; and gave a simple and truthful statement of the affair, which was planned, if I re- member rightly, by General Gillmore. A few days afterward, an editorial appeared in the New York “ Tribune,” which was known not to favor Mr. Lin- coln’s renomination, entirely exonerating him from SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 49 all blame. I took the article to him in his study, and he expressed much gratification at its candor. It was, perhaps, in connection with the newspaper attacks, that he told, during the sitting, this story. — “A traveller on the frontier found himself out of his reckoning one night in a most inhospitable re- gion. A terrific thunder-storm came up, to add to his trouble. He floundered along until his horse at length gave out. The lightning afforded him the only clew to his way, but the peals of thunder were frightful. One bolt, which seemed to crash the earth beneath him, brought him to his knees. By no means a praying man, his petition was short and to the point, — “ O Lord, if it is all the same to you, give us a little more light and a little less noise ! ” Presently the conversation turned upon Shak- speare, of whom it is well known Mr. Lincoln was very fond. He once remarked, “ It matters not to me whether Shakspeare be well or ill acted ; with him the thought suffices.” Edwin Booth was playing an engagement at this time at* Grover’s Theatre. He had been announced for the coming evening in his famous part of Hamlet. The President had never witnessed his representation of this character, and he proposed being present. The nenti >n of this play, which I afterward learned had at all times a peculiar charm for Mr. Lincoln's mind, waked up a train of thought I was not pre- pared for. Said he, — and his words have often i 50 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. returned to me with a sad interest since his own assassination, — “There is one passage of the play of “Hamlet” which is very apt to be slurred over by the actor, or omitted altogether, which seems to me the choicest part of the play. It is the soliloquy of the king, after the murder. It always struck me as one of the finest touches of nature in the world.” Then, throwing himself into the very spirit of the scene, he took up the words : — “ O my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon ’t, A brother’s murder ! — Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will; My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offence; And what ’s in prayer but this twofold force — To be forestalled ere we come to fall, Or pardoned, being down ? Then I ’ll look up; My fault is past. But O what form of prayer Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder?—* That cannot be; since I am still possessed Of those effects for which I did the murder, — My crown, my own ambition, and mj r queen. May one be pardoned and retain the offence? In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft ’t is seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law ; but ’t is not so above. There is no shuffling; there the action lies In its true nature : and we ourselves compelled, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 51 Even to the teeth atid forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then V what rests? Try what repentance can; what can it not? Yet what can it when one cannot repent? O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O bruised soul that, struggling to be free, Art more engaged! Help, angels, make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! And heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe; All may be well ! ” He repeated this entire passage from memory, with a feeling and appreciation unsurpassed by any- thing I ever witnessed upon the stage. Remaining in thought for a few moments, he continued : — “ The opening of the play of ‘ King Richard the Third’ seems to me often entirely misapprehended. It is quite common for an actor to come upon the stage, and, in a sophomoric style, to begin with a flourish : — “ ‘ Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that lowered upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried ! ’ Now,” said he, “ this is all wrong. Richard, you remember, had been, and was then, plotting the destruction of his brothers, to make room for him- self. Outwardly, the most loyal to the newly crowned king, secretly he could scarcely contain his impatience at the obstacles still in the way of his own elevation. He appears upon the stage, just after the crowning of Edward, burning with repressed hate and jealousy. The prologue is the atterance of the most intense bitterness and satire.” 52 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Then, unconsciously assuming the character, Mi’, Lincoln repeated, also from memory, Richard’s soliloquy, rendering it with a degree of force and power that made it seem like a new creation to me. Though familiar with the passage from boyhood, I can truly say that never till that moment had I fully appreciated its spirit. I could not refrain from laying down my palette and brushes, and ap- plauding heartily, upon his conclusion, saying, at the same time, half in earnest, that I was not sure but that he had made a mistake in the choice af a profession, considerably, as may be imagined, to his amusement. Mr. Sinclair has since repeat- edly said to me that he never heard these choice passages of Shakspeare rendered with more effect by the most famous of modern actors. Mr. Lincoln’s memory was very remarkable. With the multitude of visitors whom he saw daily, I was often amazed at the readiness with which he recalled faces and events and even names. At one of the afternoon receptions, a stranger shook hands with him, and, as he did so, re- marked, casually, that he was elected to Congress about the time Mr. Lincoln’s term as representa- tive expired. “Yes,” said the President, “you are from ,” mentioning the State. “ I remem- ber reading of your election in a newspaper one morning on a steamboat going down to Mount Ver- non.” At another time a gentleman addressed him, saying, “ I presume, Mr. President, that you have SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 5§ forgotten me ? ” “ No,” was tlie prompt reply • “your name is Flood. I saw you last, twelve years ago, at ,” naming the place and the oc- casion. “ I am glad to see,” he continued, “ that the Flood flows on.” Subsequent to his reelection a deputation of bankers from various sections were introduced one day by the Secretary of the Treas- ury. After a few moments’ general conversation, Mr. Lincoln turned to one of them, and said : “ Your district did not give me so strong a vote at the last election as it did in 1860.” “ I think, sir, that you must be mistaken,” replied the banker. “ I have the impression that your ma- jority was considerably increased at the last elec- tion.” “ No,” rejoined the President, “ you fell off about six hundred votes.” Then taking down from the bookcase the official canvass of 1860 and 1861, he referred to the vote of the district named, and proved to be quite right in his asser- tion. During this interview, — related to me by one of the party, Mr. P , of Chelsea, Mass., — a member of the delegation referred to the severity of the tax laid by Congress upon the State Banks. “ Now,” said Mr. Lincoln, “ that reminds me of a circumstance that took place in a neighborhood where I lived when I was a boy. In the spring of the year the farmers were very fond of the dish which they called greens, though the fashionable name for it nowadays is spinach, I believe. One day 54 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. after dinner, a large family were taken very ill, The doctor was called in, who attributed it to the greens, of which all had freely partaken. Living in the family was a half-witted boy named Jake. On a subsequent occasion, when greens had been gathered for dinner, the head of the house said : ‘ Now, boys, before running any further risk in this thing, we will first try them on Jake. If he stands it, we are all right.’ And just so, I sup- pose,” said Mr. Lincoln, “ Congress thought of the State Banks ! ” XVII. While sitting one day, Secretary Stanton — whom I usually found quite taciturn — referred to the meeting of the Buchanan Cabinet called upon receipt of the news that Colonel Anderson had evacuated Moultrie, and gone into Fort Sumter. “ This little incident,” said Stanton, “ was the crisis of our history, — the pivot upon which every- thing turned. Had he remained in Fort Moultrie, a very different combination of circumstances would have arisen. The attack on Sumter — commenced by the South — united the North, and made the success of the Confederacy impossible. I shall never forget,” he continued, “our coming together by special summons that night. Buchanan sat in his arm-chair in a corner of the room, white as a sheet, with the stump of a cigar in his mouth. The SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 55 despatches were laid before us ; and so much vio* lence ensued, that he had to turn us all out-of- doors.” The day following, by special permission of Mr. Lincoln, I was present at the regular Cabinet meet- ing. Judge Bates came in first, and, taking a package out of his pocket, said, “You may not be aware, Mr. President, that you have a formidable rival in the field. I received this through the mail to-day.” He unfolded an immense placard, on which was printed in large letters, — “I introduce for President of the United States, Mr. T. W. Smith [I think this was the name], of Philadelphia.” The bill then went on to enumerate the qualifications of the candidate, which were of a stunning order ; and the whole was signed “ George Bates,” which the Attorney-General said might be a relative of his, for aught he knew. This decidedly original document was pinned up in a conspicuous place in the council-chamber, where it hung for several days, of course attracting the attention of all vis- itors, and creating much amusement. The disaster on the Red River was the subject of official consultation. The positions of the re- spective forces were traced on the war maps, and various suggestions and opinions offered. The Sec- retary of the Interior, looking over to where the Secretary of War sat, said he had a young friend whom he wished to have appointed a paymaster in the army . “ How old is he ? ” asked Stanton, 56 SIX MONTHS AT TIIE WHITE HOUSE. gruffly. “About twenty-one, I believe,” answered the Secretary of the Interior; “he is of good fam- ily and excellent character.” “ Usher," was the reply, “ I would not appoint the Alltel Gabriel a paymaster, if he was only twenty-one.” .Judge Bates, who was to have a sitting after the adjournment, here beckoned to me, signifying that he \\as ready for the appointment. And so ended my brief glimpse of a cabinet in session. XVIII. General Grant reached Washington, after his nomination to the Lieutenant-Generalship, the even- ing of March 8th, 1864. His reception at Wil- lard’s Hotel, unaccompanied by stall' or escort, was an event never to be forgotten by those who wit- nessed it. Later in the evening he attended the Presidential levee, entering the reception-room unannounced. He was recognized and welcomed by the President with the utmost cordiality, and the distinguished stranger was soon nearly over- whelmed by the pressure of the crowd upon him. Seci\ ary Seward at length mounting a sofa, pulled the modest hero up by his side, where he stood for some time, bowing his acknowledgments to the tu-. nudtucus assemblage. He subsequently remarked that this was “his warmest campaign during the war.” The next day at one o’clock he was formally SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 57 presented by the President with his commission as Lieutenant-General. The ceremony took place in the presence of the Cabinet, the Hon. Mr. Love- joy, and several officers of the army, and was very brief and simple, as became the character of each of the illustrious chief actors. On the day following General Grant visited the Army of the Potomac, and upon his return to Washington he made preparations to leave imme- diately for the West. At the close of a consulta- tion with the President and Secretary of War, he was informed that Mrs. Lincoln expected his pres- ence the same evening at a military dinner she proposed to give in his honor. The General at once responded that it would be impossible for him to remain over, — he “ must be in Tennessee at a given time.” “ But we can’t excuse you,” re- turned the Pi-esident. “ It would be the play of ‘ Hamlet ’ with Hamlet left out, over again. Twelve distinguished officers, now in the city, have been invited to meet you.” “ I appreciate fully the honor Mrs. Lincoln would do me,” replied the General, hesitatingly, knocking the ashes e ff the end of his cigar; “but — time is very precious just now — and — really, Mr. President, I be- lieve 1 have had enough of the ‘ show ’ business ! ” The dinner was given ; the twelve officers did full justice to it ; but it is needless to add, the Lieutenant-General was not one of the num- ber. 58 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. XIX. The evening of March 25th was an intensely interesting one to me. It was passed with the Pi •esident alone in his study, marked by no inter- ruptions. Busy with pen and papers when I en- tered, he presently threw them aside, and com- menced talking again about Shakspeare. Little Tad coming in, he sent him to the library for a copy of the plays, from which he read aloud sev- eral of his favorite passages. Relapsing into a sadder strain, he laid the book aside, and leaning back in his chair, said, “ There is a poem that has been a great favorite with me for years, to which my attention was first called when a young man, by a friend, and which I afterward saw and cut from a newspaper, and carried in my pocket, till by frequent reading I had it by heart. I would give a great deal,” he added, “ to know who wrote it, but I never could ascertain.” Then, half clos- ing his eyes, he repeated the poem, “ Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? ” Surprised and delighted, I told him that I should greatly prize a copy of the lines. He replied that he had recently written them out for Mrs. Stanton, but promised that when a favorable opportunity oc- curred he would give them to mo. Varying the subject, he continued: “There are some quaint, queer verses, written, I think, by Oliver Wendell Holmes, entitled, ‘ The Last Leaf,’ SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 59 one. of which is to me .inexpressibly touching. He then repeated these also from memory. The verse he referred to occurs in about the middle of the poem, and is this : — “ The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has pressed In their bloom; And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.” As he finished this verse, he said, in his emphatic way, “ For pure pathos, in my judgment, there is nothing finer than those six lines in the English language ! ” A day or two afterward, he asked me to accom- pany him to the temporary studio, at the Treasury Department, of Mr. Swayne, the sculptor, who was making a bust of him. While he was sitting, it occurred to me to improve the opportunity to secure the promised poem. Upon mentioning the subject, the sculptor surprised me by saying that he had at his home, in Philadelphia, a printed copy of the verses, taken from a newspaper some years previous. The President inquired if they were published in an - connection with his name. Mr. Swayne said that they purported to have been written “ by Abraham Lincoln.” “I have heard of that before, and that is why I asked,” returned the President. “ But there is no truth in it. The poem -was first shown to me by a young man named ‘ Jason Duncan,’ many years ago.” 60 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. The sculptor was using for a studio the of* fice of the Solicitor of the Treasury Department, an irregular room, packed nearly full of law books. Seating myself, I believe, upon a pile of these at Mr. Lincoln’s feet, he kindly repeated the lines, which I vyrote down, one by one, as they fell from his lips : — OH! WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL BE PROUD? * Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, He passeth from life to his rest in the grave. The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade, Be scattered around, and together be laid; And the young and the old, and the low and the high, Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie. The infant a mother attended and loved; The mother that infant’s affection who proved ; The husband, that mother and infant who blest, — Each, all, are away to their dwellings of . rest. [The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye, Shone beauty and pleasure, — her triumphs are by; And the memory of those who loved her and praised, Are alike from the minds of the living erased.] The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne, The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn, The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave, Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave. * The authorship of this poem has been made known since this publication in the Evening Post. It was written by William Knox, a young Scotchman, a contemporary of Sir Walter Scott. He died in Edinburgh, in 1825, at the age of 3G. The two verses in brackets were not repeated by Mr. Lincoln, but belong to the original poem. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 61 Thu peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap, The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep, The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread, Have faded away like the grass that we tread. [The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven, The-sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven, The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just, Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.] So the multitude gojs — like the flower or the weed That withers away to let others succeed; So the multitude comes — even those we behold, To repeat every tale that has often been told. For we are the same our fathers have been; We see the same sights our fathers have seen ; We drink the same stream, we view the same suit, And run the same course our fathers have run. The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think; From the death we are shrinking, our fathers w'ould shrink: To the life we are clinging, they also would cling; — But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing. They loved — but the story we cannot unfold; They scorned — but the heart of the haughty is cold; They grieved — but no wail from their slumber will come; They joyed — but the tongue of their gladness is dumb. They died — ay, they died ; — we things that are now, That walk on the turf that lies over their brow, And make in their dwellings a transient abode, Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road. Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain, Are mingled together in sunshine and rain; And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge, Still follow each other, like surge upon surge. ’T is the wink of an eye — ’t is the draught of a breath — From the blossom of health to the paleness of death, From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud: — Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud? 02 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. XX. On the way to the sculptor’s studio a conversa- tion occurred of much significance, in view of the terrible tragedy so soon to paralyze every loyal heart in the nation. A late number of the New York “Tribune” had contained an account from a correspondent within the Rebel' lines, of an elabo- / rate conspiracy, matured in Richmond, to abduct, or assassinate — if the first was not found practi- cable — the person of the President. A secret or- ganization, -composed, it was stated, of five hun- dred or a thousand men, had solemnly sworn to accomplish the deed. Mr. Lincoln had not seen \ or heard of this account, arid at his request, I gave him the details. Upon the conclusion, he smiled incredulously, and said: “ Well, even if true, I do not see what the Rebels would gain by killing or getting possession of me. I am but a single indi- vidual, and it would not help their cause or make the least difference in the progress of the war. Everything would go right on just the same. Soon after I was nominated at Chicago, I began to re- ceive letters threatening my life. The first one or two made me a little uncomfortable, but I came at length to look for a regular instalment of this kind of correspondence in every week’s mail, and up to inauguration day I was in constant receipt of. such letters. It is no uncommon thing to receive them j now ; but they have ceased to give me any appre- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. f>?) Iiension.” I expressed some surprise at this, but he replied in his peculiar wav, “ Oh, there is nothing like getting used to things ! ” In connection with tins, Mr. Noah Brooks, — who was to have been Mr. Nicolay’s successor as private secretary to the President, — and Colonel Charles G. Halpine, of New York, have referred to personal conversations of exceeding interest, Nhich I tran- scribe. In an article contributed to “ Harper’s Maga- zine,” soon after the assassination, Mr. Brooks says : — “ The simple habits of Mr. Lincoln were so well known that it is a subject for surprise that watchful and malignant treason did not sooner take that precious life which he seemed to hold so lightly. He had an almost morbid dislike for an escort, or guide, and daily exposed himself to the deadly aim of an assassin. One summer morning, passing by the White House at an early hour, I saw the Pres- ident standing at the gateway, looking anxiously down the street ; and, in reply to a salutation, he said, ‘Good morning, good morning! lam look- ing for a newsboy ; when you get to that corner, I wish you would start one up this way.’ In reply to the remonstrances of friends, who were afraid of his constant exposure to danger, he had but one answer: ‘If they kill me, the next man will be just as bad for them ; and in a country like this, where our habits are simple, and must be, assassi- 64 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. nation is always possible, and will come, if they are determined upon it.’ ” A cavalry guard was once placed at the gates of the White House for a while, and he said, pri- vately, that “ he worried until he got rid of it.” While the President’s family were at their sum- mer-house, near Washington, he rode into town of a morning’, or out at night, attended by a mounted escort ; but if he returned to town for a while after dark, he rode in unguarded, and often alone, in his open carriage. On more than one occasion the writer has gone through the streets of Washington at a late hour of the night with the President, without escort, or even the company of a servant, walking all of the way, going and re- turning. Considering the many open and secret threats to take his life, it is not surprising that Mr. Lin- coln had many thoughts about his coming to a sudden and violent end. He once said that he felt the force of the expression, “ To take one’s life in his hand ; ” but that he would not like to face death suddenly. He said that he thought himself a great coward physically, and was sure that he would make a poor soldier, for, unless there was something inspiriting in the excitement of a battle, he was sure that he would drop his gun and run, at the first symptom of danger. That was said sportively, and he added, “ Moral cowardice is something which I think I never had.” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 65 Colonel Halpine, while serving as a member of General Halleck’^ staff, had frequently to wait upon the President, both during official hours and at other times. On one of these occasions, Mr. Lin- coln concluded some interesting remarks with these words: ‘'It would never do for a President to have guards with drawn sabres at his door, as if he fancied he were, or were trying to be, or Averc assuming to be, an emperor.” “ This expression,” writes Colonel Halpine, “called my attention afresh to what I had remarked to myself almost every time I entered the White House, and to which I had very frequently called the attention both of Major Hay and General Halleck — the utterly unprotected condition of the President’s person, and the fact that any assassin or maniac, seeking his life, could enter his presence without the interference of a single armed man to hold him back. The entrance-doors, and all doors on the official side of the building, were open at all hours of the day, and very late into the evening ; and I have many times entered the mansion, and walked up to the rooms of the two private secretaries, as late as nine or ten o’clock at niojit, without seeincr or being challenged by a single soul. There were, indeed, two attendants, — one for the outer door, and the other for the door of the official cham- oers ; but these — thinking, I suppose, that none would call after office hours save persons who were personally acquainted, or had the right of official en* 5 G6 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. try — were, not unfrequently, somewhat remiss in their duties. “To this fact I now ventured to call the Presi- dent’s attention, saying that to me — perhaps from my European education — it appeared a deliberate courting of danger, even if the country were in a state of the profoundest peace, for the person at the head of the nation to remain so unprotected. “ ‘ There are two dangers,’ I wound up by say- ing ; ‘ the danger of deliberate political assassina- tion, and the mere brute violence of insanity.’ “ Mr. Lincoln heard me through with a smile, his hands locked across his knees, his body rock- ing back and forth, — the common indication that he was amused. “ ‘ Now, as to political assassination,’ he said, ‘ do you think the Richmond people would like to have Hannibal Hamlin here any better than my- self? In that one alternative, I have an insurance on my life worth half the prairie land of Illinois. And beside,’ — this more gravely, — ‘ if there were such a plot, and they wanted to get at me, no vigi- lance could keep them out. We are so mixed up in our affairs, that — no matter what the system established — a conspiracy to assassinate, if such there were, could easily obtain a pass to see me for any one or more of its instruments. “‘To betray fear of this, by placing guards or so forth, would only be to put the idea into theii heads, and perhaps lead to the very result it was SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 67 intended to prevent. As to the crazy folks, Major, why I must only take my chances, — the worst crazy people at present, I fear, being some of my own too zealous adherents. That there may be such dangers as you and many others have suggested to me, is quite possible ; but I guess it would n’t im- prove things any to publish that we were afraid of them in advance.’ “ Upon another occasion I remember his coming over one evening after dinner, to General Halleck’s private quarters, to protest — half jocularly, half in earnest — against a small detachment of cavalry which had been detailed without his request, and partly against his will, by the lamented General Wadsworth, as a guard for his carriage in going to and returning from the Soldiers’ Home. The bur- den of his complaint was that he and Mrs. Lincoln ‘ could n’t hear themselves talk,’ for the clatter of their sabres and spurs ; and that, as many of them appeared new hands and very awkward, he was more afraid of being shot by the accidental dis- charge of one of their carbines or revolvers, than of any attempt upon his life or for his capture by the roving squads of Jeb Stuart’s cavalry, then hovering all round the exterior works of the city.” XXI. Judge Bates, the Attorney- General, was one day fery severe upon the modem 'deal school of 68 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. art, as applied to historic characters and events. He instanced in sculpture, •Greenough’s “Wash- ington,” in the Capitol grounds, which, he said, was a very good illustration of the heathen idea of Ju- piter Tonans, but was the farthest possible remove from any American’s conception of the Father of his Country. Powell’s painting in the Rotunda, “ De Soto discovering the Mississippi,” and Mills’s equestrian statue of Jackson, in front of the Presi- dent’s House, shared in his. sarcastic condemnation. He quoted from an old English poet — Creech, I think he said — with much unction : — “ Whatever contradicts my sense 1 hate to see, and can but disbelieve.” “ Genius and talent,” said he, on another occa- sion, “are rarely found combined in one individ- ual.” I requested his definition of the distinction. “ Genius,” he replied, “ conceives ; talent exe- cutes.” Referring to Mr. Lincoln’s never-failing fund of anecdote, he remarked, “ The character of the President’s mind is such that his thought habitually takes on this form of illustration, by which the point he wishes to enforce is invariably brought home with a strength and clearness impossible in hours of abstract argument. Mr. Lincoln,” he added, “ comes very near being a perfect man, according to my ideal of manhood. He lacks but one thing.” Looking up from my palette, I asked, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 69 musingly, if this was official dignity as President. ’‘No,” replied Judge Cates, “ that is of little con- sequence. His deficiency, is in the element of will. I have sometimes told him, for instance, that he was unfit to be intrusted with the pardoning power. Why, if a man comes to him with a touching story, his judgment is almost certain to be affected by it. Should the applicant be a woman , a wife, a mother, or a sister, — in nine cases out of ten, her tears, if nothing else, are sure to prevail.” XXII. Mr. Seward, whose conversation much of the time, while sitting, was like that of a man solil- oquizing aloud, told me on one occasion two or three eood stories. Referrum to the numerous portraits painted of him at different times, he said, that of all artists whom he had known, Henry In- man was most rapid in execution. For the full- length portrait, painted while he was Governor, for the city of New York, Inman required but two or three sittings of an hour each, with an addi- tional quarter of an hour for the standing figure. This drew out something from me in relation to Elliott’s whole length of him, painted at the same period. “ My experience with Elliott,” he rejoined, “ who was then in the beginning of his career, was a very different affair. He seemed to think me like Governor Crittenden’s hen.” Laugh- 70 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. ing at the recollection, he lighted a cigar, and con- tinued : “ One day the Governor was engaged with his Council, when his little boy, of five or six years, came into the chamber, and said, ‘ Father, the black hen is setting .’ 4 Go away, my son,’ re turned the Governor : 4 1 am very busy.’ The child disappeared, but soon returned, and putting his head in at the door, repeated the information. 4 Well, well,’ replied the Governor, ‘you must not bother me now ; let her set.’ The door was shut, but soon afterward again cautiously opened, in the midst of a profound discussion, and the words rang out, 4 But father, she is setting on one egg ! ’ The Governor turned around, and looking into the dilated eyes of the excited little fellow, re- plied dryly, 4 Well, my son, I think we will let her set. Her time is not very precious ! ’ ” Another was of General R , formerly of the New York State Senate. At the regular session one day, the General gave notice that the following day he would introduce a bill providing a ther- mometer for every institution of learning in the State. The next morning the clerk was in his private office at the usual hour, reading the bills aloud, and placing them on file for the business of the day. A gentleman who prided himself upon his classical attainments was present, and, as the clerk read the notice given by Senator R , he was informed that a word borrowed from another language should, according to the rale, always be SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 71 given its native pronunciation. The original of thermometer, the gentleman said, was a French term, which should be pronounced accordingly. By a process of reasoning the clerk was convinced ; and when the bill was announced, he read it accord- ing to instructions. General R was observed to look up from writing, and fix his eye upon the clerk. The second reading passed, and he rose to his feet, bending forward upon his desk, listen- ing intently, his eyebrows gradually ' contracting. “ Third reading. Senator R gave notice of a bill to provide a thermometre for every institution of learning in the State.” By this time the atten- tion of the entire house was drawn to the General. “ Ther — what?” he demanded, in a stentorian tone. “ Thermometre ,” quietly responded the con- fident clerk. “ Thermometer ! thermometer ! you fool ; don’t you know what a thermometer is ? ” thundered the enraged Senator, amid roars of laughter. Speaking once of Henry Clay and Daniel Web- ster, Mr. Seward remarked, that, as statesmen, they could not well be compared ; “ they were no more alike than a Grecian temple and a Gothic church.” I was much interested in an opinion he once ex- pressed of equestrian statues. He said a grand character should never be represented in this form. It was ignoring the divine in human nature to thus link man with an .animal, and seemed to him a 72 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. degradation of true art. “ Bucephalus,” in marble or bronze was well enough by itself. Place “Alex- ander” upon his back, and though the animal gained a degree of interest, the man lost immeasurably. XXIII. Soon after the chalk sketch of my conception had been placed upon the canvas, I attended one of the receptions given by the Secretary of the Navy and Mrs. Welles. While standing as I thought unobserved, near a corner of the room, Mr. Sew- ard approached me, and in a manner of more than usual warmth, said, “ I told the President the other day that you were painting your picture upon a false presumption.” Looking at him in some sur- prise, I inquired his meaning. “ Oh,” he rejoined, “you appear to think in common with many other foolish people, that the great business of this Ad- ministration is the destruction of slavery. Now allow me to say you are much mistaken. Slavery was killed years ago. Its death knell was tolled when Abraham Lincoln was elected President. The work of this Administration is the suppression of the Rebellion and the preservation of the Union. Abolitionists, like the different religious sects, have been chasing one idea, until they have come to be- lieve that their horizon absolutely bounds the world.- Slavery has been in fact but an incident in the history of the nation, inevitably bound to perish in SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 73 the progress of intelligence. Future generations will scarcely credit the record that such an insti- tution ever existed here; or existing, that it ever lived a day under such a government. But sup- pose, for one moment, the Republic destroyed. With it is bound up not alone the destiny of a race, but the best hopes of all mankind. With its over- throw the sun of liberty, like the Hebrew dial, would be set back indefinitely. The magni- tude of such a calamity is beyond our calculation. The salvation of the nation is, then, of vastly more consequence than the destruction of slavery. Had you consulted me for a subject to paint, I should not have given you the Cabinet Council on Eman- cipation, but the meeting which took place when the news came of the attack upon Sumter, when the first measures were organized for the restoration of the national authority. That was the crisis in the history of this Administration — not the issue of the Emancipation Proclamation. If I am to be re- membered by posterity,” he concluded, with much excitement of manner, “ let it not be as having loved predominantly white men or black men, but as one who loved his country.” Assenting to much that he had said, I replied, that with all deference, I could not accept his conclusions rewarding slavery. Although more than a year had passed since the issue of the pro- clamation, the Confederacy, founded upon it, was yet powerful enough to threaten the destruction of 74 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. • the nation, though, for my own part, I did not question the result of the conflict. I looked upon the Declaration of Independence as the assertion that all men were created free. Mr. Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation was the demonstration of this great truth. Without slavery the Re- public would have been in no danger. That was the canker-worm gnawing away the nation’s life. Not until the Administration was ready to strike at the root and cause of the Rebellion, was there any reason to hope for the success of the national cause. Without this step, however grand or high the conception in the minds of men of the Republic, in all probability it would have perished. There- fore, in my judgment, no single act of the Ad- ministration could for one moment be compared with that of emancipation. Granting the poten- tial view, the proclamation was necessary, as the sign and seal of the consummation. “Well,” replied Mr. Seward, “you think so, and this generation may agree with you ; but pos- terity will hold a different opinion.” Of course this conversation could not but attract the attention of all in the immediate vicinity. A few moments later, Senator Morgan, referring to the Secretary’s assertion that slavery was dead when the Rebellion broke out, told me this character- istic incident of the President, showing that he, at least, did not hold that view. Soon after the issue of the proclamation, having official business, as Gov - SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 7b ernor of New York, which called him to Washing- ton, Mr. Lincoln remarked to him, speaking of his action upon this subject, “ We are a good deal like whalers who have been long on a chase. At last we have got our harpoon fairly into the monster ; but we must now look how we steer, or with one flop of his tail, he will yet send us all into eternity ! ” XXIY. Mr. George Thompson, the English anti-slavery orator, delivered an address in the House of Rep- resentatives, to a large audience, April 6th, 1864. Among the distinguished persons present was Pres- ident Lincoln, who was greatly interested. The following morning, Mr. Thompson and party, con- sisting of Rev. John Pierpont, Oliver Johnson, formerly President of the Anti-Slavery Society of New York, and the Hon. Lewis Clephane, of Wash- ington, called at the White House. The President was alone when their names were announced, with the exception of myself. Dropping all business, he ordered the party to be immediately admitted. Greeting them very cordially, the gentlemen took seats, and Mr. Thompson commenced conversation by referring to the condition of public sentiment in England in regard to the great conflict the nation was passing through. He said the aristocracy and the “ money interest ” were desirous of seeing the Union broken up, but that the great heart of the 76 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. masses beat in sympathy with the North. They instinctively felt that the cause of liberty was bound up with our success in putting down the Rebellion, and the struggle was being watched with the deep- est anxiety. Mr. Lincoln thereupon said : “ Mr. Thompson, the people of Great Britain, and of other foreign governments, were in' one great error in reference to this conflict. They seemed to think that, the moment I was President, I had the power to abol- ish slaverv, forgetting that, before I could have any power whatever, I had to take the oath to sup- port the Constitution of the United States, and ex- ecute the laws as I found them. When the Rebel- lion broke out, my duty did not admit of a question. That was, first, by all strictly lawful means to en- deavor to maintain the integrity of the government. I did not consider that I had a right to touch the ‘ State ’ institution of ‘ Slavery ’ until all other meas- ures for restoring the Union had failed. The para- mount idea of the constitution is the preservation of the Union. It may not be specified in so many words, but that this was the idea of its founders is evident ; for, without the Union, the constitution would be worthless. It seems clear, then, that in t.ie last extremity, if any local institution threatened the existence of the Union, the Executive could not hesitate as to his duty. In our case, the moment came when I felt that slavery must die that the nation might live ! I have sometimes used the SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 77 illustration m this connection of a man with a dis eased limb, and his surgeon. So long as there is a chance of the patient’s restoration, the surgeon is solemnly bound to try to save both life and limb ; but when the crisis comes, and the limb must be sacrificed as the only chance of saving the life, no honest man will hesitate. “ Many of my strongest supporters urged Eman- cipation before I thought it indispensable, and, I may say, before I thought the country ready for it. It is my conviction that, had the proclamation been issued even six months earlier than it was, public sentiment would not have sustained it. Just so, as to the subsequent action in reference to enlist- ing blacks in the Border States. The step, taken sooner, could not, in my judgment, have been car- ried out. A man watches his pear-tree day after day, impatient for the ripening of the fruit. Let him attempt to force the process, and he may spoil both fruit and tree. But let him patiently wait, and the ripe pear at length falls into his lap ! We have seen this great revolution in public sentiment slowly but surely progressing, so that, when final action came, the opposition was not strong enough to de- feat the purpose. I can now solemnly assert,'* he concluded, “ that I have a clear conscience in regard to my action on this momentous question. I have done what no man could have helped doing, stand- >ng in mv place.” Oliver Johnson, speaking, as he said, for the old 78 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Anti-Slavery party, assured the President that they had fully appreciated the difficulties and embar- rassments of his position ; but when they realized the importance of the grand issue, and observed the conflicting influences that were surging around him, they were in an agony of anxiety lest he should somehow be led to take a false position. If, in the months preceding the issue of the Emancipation Proclamation, they had seemed impatient and dis- trustful, it was because their knowledge of his char- acter had not been sufficient to assure them that he would be able to stand up manfully against the opposing current. He thanked God that the re- sult had shown that we had a President who was equal to the emergency ; and for his part he was willing to sink all minor issues in the grand con- summation he believed then in sight ! A characteristic incident occurred toward the close of the interview. When the President ceased speaking, the Rev. Mr. Pierpont, impressed with his earnestness, turned to Mr. Thompson, and re- peated a Latin quotation from the classics. Mr. Lincoln, leaning forward in his chair, looked from one to the other inquiringly, and then remarked, with a smile, “ Which , I suppose you ai’e both aware, I do not understand.” As the party rose to take leave, the President re- marked, motioning toward me, “ We have a young man here who is painting a picture down-stairs, which I should be glad to have you see.” The gen- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 79 tleweti expressed their acknowledgments of the courtesy, and Mr. Lincoln led the way by the private staircase to the state dining-room. In the passage through the hall he jocularly remarked to Mr. Thompson, “ Your folks made -rather sad w'ork of this mansion when they came up the Po- tomac in 1812. Nothing w r as left of it but the bare walls.” I do not remember the reply t; this * sally, save that it was given and received in good part. Briefly going over the portraiture and com- position of the picture, then in too early a stage for criticism, Mr. Lincoln presently excused himself, and returned to his duties. And thus ended an interview doubtless indelibly stamped upon the memory of each individual privileged in sharing it. Upon referring to the date of the “Hodges” let- ter, it will be seen that it was written April 4th, only three days before the visit of Mr. Thompson and party. The coincidence of thought and expression in that statement, and the President’s conversation on this occasion, are noticeable ; and are explained by the fact, that, with the language of that letter still fresl in his mind, he very naturally fell into a similar vein of illustration. XXV. b” - \ Dr. Holland, in his “ Life of Abraham Lincoln, I regret to observe, has thought it worth while to notice the_ reports, which in one way and another have obtained circulation, that the President habit- 80 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. uallv indulged, in ordinary conversation, in a class of objectionable stories. The biographer, it is true, attempts to palliate this, on the ground that it was no innate, love of impurity which prompted such relations, but a keen relish for wit, in any form, the lack of refining influences in early Iile, and his experience as a lawyer, which necessarily in- duced professional familiarity with the foulest phases of human nature. The fault is a common one with many men of otherwise unblemished reputation, and cannot be too severely reprehended. The sooner, however, such things can be forgotten, of neighbor, friend, or President, the better.' Weaknesses and blemishes are inseparable from common humanity in the present stage of its development; and though, like the spots on the sun, they may serve to inspire in us a feeling of kindred, — let the orb once set, never again to rise on the world, and he who should remember the trifling defects in the universal loss would certainly be considered, if not captious, at least a most inopportune critic. Mr. Lincoln, I am convinced, has been greatly wronged in this .respect. Every foul-mouthed man in the country gave currency to the slime and filth of his own imagination by attributing it to the President. It is but simple justice to his memory that I should state, that during the entire period of my stay in Washington, after witnessing his inter- course with nearly all classes of men, embracing governors, senators, members of Congress, officers SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 81 of the army, and intimate friends, I cannot recol- lect to have heard him relate a circumstance to any one of them, which would have been out of place uttered in a ladies’ drawing-room. And this testi- mony is not unsupported by that of others, well entitled to consideration. Dr. Stone, his family physician, came in one day to see my studies. Sitting in front of that of the President, — with whom he did not sympathize politically, — he re- marked, with much feeling, “ It is the province of a physician to probe deeply the interior lives of men ; and I affirm that Mr*. Lincoln is the purest hearted man with whom I ever came in contact.”^ Secretary Seward, who of the Cabinet officers was probably most intimate with the President, ex- pressed the same sentiment in still stronger lan- guage. He once said to the Rev. Dr. Bellows “ Mr. Lincoln is the best man I ever knew ! ” XXVI. The 25th of April, Burnside’s command marched through Washington, on the way from Annapolis, to reinforce the army of the Potomac. The Presi- dent reviewed the troops from the top of the east- ern portico at Willard’s Hotel, standing with un-^ covered head while the entire thirty thousand men filed through Fourteenth Street. Of course the passage of so large a body of troops through the city — presaging as it did the opening of the cam- 6 82 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. paign — drew out a numerous concourse of spec tators, and the coining movement was everywhere the absorbing topic of conversation. Early in the evening. Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania, with a friend, came into the President’s office. As lie sat down he referred to the fine appearance of Burn- side’s men; saying, with much emphasis, “ Mr. President, if there is in the world one man more than another worthy of profound respect, it is the volunteer citizen soldier.” To this Mr. Lincoln assented, in a quiet way, — the peculiar dreaminess of expression so remarkable at times, stealing over his face as his mind reverted to the thousands whose lives had been so freely offered upon the altar of their country, and the myriad homes represented by the thronging columns of the day’s review, in so many of which there was henceforth to be weary watching and waiting for footsteps which would return no more. I took this opportunity to get at the truth con- cerning a newspaper story which went the rounds a year or two previous, purporting to be an ac- count of a meeting of the loyal Governors in Washington, early in the war. It was stated that the President laid the condition of the country be- fore such a council, convened at the White House, *and anxiously awaited the result. An oppressive silence followed. Curtin was represented as hav- ing been standing, looking out of one of the win- dows, drumming unconsciously upon a pane of glass. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 83 Mr. Lincoln, at length addressing him personally, ■ said: “Andy, what is Pennsylvania going to do? ” Turning around, Curtin replied : “ She is going to send twenty thousand men to start with, and will double it, if necessary ! ” “ This noble response ” [quoted from memory] “ overwhelmed the Presi- dent, and lifted the dead weight which seemed to have paralyzed all present.” I repeated this account substantially as here given ; but both parties smiled and shook their heads. “ It is a pity to spoil so good a story,” re- turned the President, “ but, unfortunately, there is not a word of truth in it. I believe the only con- vocation of Governors that has taken place during the war,” he added, looking at Curtin, “ was that at Altoona — was it not?” Subsequently the two gentlemen proposed to visit my room, and Mr. Lincoln accompanied them. Sitting: down under the chandelier on the edge of the long table, which ran the whole length of the apartment, swinging back and forth his long legs, passing his hand occasionally over his brow and through his rough hair (his appearance and man- ner come back to me most vividly, as I write), he listened abstractedly to my brief explanation of the design of the picture. When I ceased, he took up the record in his own way. “ You see, Curtin,” said he, “ I was brought to the conclu- sion that there was no dodging this negro question any longer. We had reached the point where it bi SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. seemed that we must avail ourselves of this ele- ment, or in all probability go under.” He then went over the circumstances attending the step, in much the same language he had used upon the occasion of my first interview with him. Gov- ernor Curtin remarked that the impression pre- vailed in some quarters that Secretary Seward opposed the policy. “ That is not true,” replied Mr. Lincoln ; “ he advised postponement, at the first meeting, which seemed to me sound. It was Seward’s persistence which resulted in the insertion of the word 4 maintain,’ which I feared under the circumstances was promising more than it was quite probable we could carry out.” The bill empowering the Secretary of the Treas- ury to sell the surplus gold had recently passed, and Mr. Chase was then in New York, giving his attention personally to the experiment. Governor Curtin referred to this, saying, “ I see by the quo- tations that Chase’s movement has already knocked gold down several per cent.” This gave occasion for the strongest expression I ever heard fall from the lips of Mr. Lincoln. Knotting his face in the intensity of his feeling, he said, “ Curtin, what do you think of those fellows in Wall Street, who are gambling in gold at such a time as this ? ” “ Tliev © © © *) are a set of sharks,” returned Curtin. “ For my part,” continued the President, bringing his clinched hand down upon the table, “ I wish every one of them had his devilish head shot off! ” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 85 XXVII. There was one marked element of Mr. Lincoln’s rliaracter admirably expressed by -the Hon. Mr. Colfax, in his oration at Chicago upon his death : “ When his judgment, which acted slowly, but which was almost as immovable as the eternal hills when settled, was grasping some subject of im- portance, the arguments against his own desires seemed uppermost in his mind, and, in conversing upon it, he would present those arguments to see if they could be rebutted.” In illustration of this, it is only necessary to recall the fact that the interview between himself and the Chicago delegation of clergymen, appointed to urge upon him the issue of a proclamation of emancipation, took place September 13, 1862, more than a month after he had declared to the Cabinet his established purpose to take this step. He said to this committee : “ I do not want to issue a document that the whole world will see must necessarily be inoperative, like the Pope’s bull against the comet ! ” After drawing out their views upon the subject, he concluded the interview with these memorable words ; — “Do not misunderstand me, because I have men- tioned these objections. They indicate the diffi- culties which have thus far prevented my action in some such way as you desire. I have not decided against a proclamation of liberty to the slaves, but 8b SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. hold the matter under advisement. And I can assure you that the subject is on my mind, by day and night, more than any other. Whatever shall appear to be God’s will, I will do ! I trust that, in the freedom with which I have canvassed your views, I have not in any respect injured your feelings.” In further evidence of this peculiarity of his mind, I will state that notwithstanding his apparent hesitation in the appointment of a successor to Judge Taney, it is well known to his most intimate friends, that “ there had never been a time during his Presidency, when, in the event of the death of Judge Taney, he had not fully intended and ex- pected to nominate Salmon P. Chase for Chief Justice.” These were his very words uttered in connection with this subject. XXVIII. In Barrett’s biography of Mr. Lincoln, it is stated that the first draft of the Emancipation Proclamation was written on board of the steam- boat returning from his 8th of July visit to the army at Harrison’s Landing. This circum- stance was not included in the statement given jne, and to others in my presence, at different times ; but from the known relations of the author with the President, it is undoubtedly true. The original draft was written upon one side of four SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 87 half sheets of official foolscap. He flung flown upon the table one day for me, several sheets of the same, saying, “ There, I believe, is some of the very paper which was used ; — if not, it was, at any rate, just like it.” The original draft is dated September 22d, 1862, and was presented to the Army Relief Bazaar, at Albany, N. Y., in 1864. It is in the proper handwriting of Mr. Lincoln, excepting two interlineations in pencil, by Secre- tary Seward, and the formal heading and ending, which were written by the chief clerk of the State Department. The final Proclamation was signed on New- Year’s Day, 1863. The President remarked t*, Mr. Colfax, the same evening, that the signature appeared somewhat tremulous and uneven. “Not, 5 ' said he, “ because of any uncertainty or hesitation on my part ; but it was just after the public recep tion, and three hours’ hand-shaking is not calcu lated to improve a man’s chirography.” Then changing his tone, he added : “ The South had fair warning, that if they did not return to their duty, I should strike at this pillar of their strength. The promise must now be kept, and I shall never recall one word.” I remember to have asked him, on one occasion, if there was not some opposition manifested on the part of several members of the Cabinet to this policy. He replied, “ Nothing more than I have stated to you. Mr. 'Blair thought we should lose 88 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. the fall elections, and opposed it on that ground only.” “ I have understood,” said I, “ that Sec- retary Smith was not in favor of your action. Mr. Blair told me that, when the meeting closed, he and the Secretary of the Interior went away to- gether, and that the latter said to him, if the Pres- ident carried out that policy, he might count on losing Indiana , sure ! ” “ He never said anything of the kind to me,” returned the President. “And what is Mr. Blair’s opinion now? ” I asked. “ Oh,” was the prompt reply, “ he proved right in regard to the fall elections, but lie is satisfied that we have since gained more than we lost.” “ I have been told,” I added, “ that Judge Bates doubted the constitutionality of the proclamation.” “ He never expressed such an opinion in my hearing,” replied Mr. Lincoln. “ No member of the Cabinet ever dissented from the policy, in any conversation with It seems necessary at this point that an expla- nation should be given of a leading article which appeared in the New York “ Independent,” upon the withdrawal of Mr. Chase from the political can- vass of 1864, widely copied by the country press, in which it was stated that the concluding paragraph of the proclamation was from the pen of Secretary Chase. One of Mr. Lincoln’s intimate friends, who felt that there was an impropriety in this publication, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 89 at that time, for which Mr. Chase was in some de- gree responsible, went to see the President about it. “ Oh,” said Mr. Lincoln, with his characteristic simplicity and freedom from all suspicion, “ Mr. Chase had nothing to do with it ; I think I men- tioned the circumstance to Mr. Tilton, myself.” The facts in the case are these : While the meas- ure was pending, Mr. Chase submitted to the President a draft of a proclamation embodying his views upon the subject, which closed with the ap- propriate and solemn words referred to : “And upon this act, sincerely believed . to be an act of justice warranted by the Constitution, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind and the gra- cious favor of Almighty God ! ” Mr. Lincoln adopted this sentence intact, except- ing; that he inserted after the word “ Constitution ” the words “ upon military necessity.” XXX. Mr. Chase told me that at the- Cabinet meeting, immediately after the battle of Antietam, and just prior to the issue of the September Proclamation, the President entered upon the business before them, bv saying that “ the time for the annuncia- tion of the emancipation policy could be no longer delayed. Public sentiment,” he thought, “ would sustain it — many of his warmest friends and sup- porters demanded it — and he had promised his 90 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. God that he would do it ! ” The last part of this was uttered in a low tone, and appeared to be heard by no one but Secretary Chase, who was sitting near him. He asked the President if he correctly understood him. Mr. Lincoln replied : “ I made a solemn vow before God , that if General Lee was driven back from Pennsylvania , I would crown the result by the declaration of freedom to the slaves .” In February 1865, a few days after the passage of the “ Constitutional Amendment,” I went to Wash- ington, and was received by Mr. Lincoln with the kindness and familiarity which had characterized our previous intercourse. I said to him at this time that I was very proud to have been the artist to have first conceived of the design of painting a picture commemorative of the Act of Emancipa- tion ; that subsequent occurrences had only con- firmed my own first judgment of that act as the most sublime moral event in our history. “ Yes,” said he, — and never do I remember to have no- ticed in him more earnestness of expression or manner, — “ as affairs have turned, it is the central ict of my administration, and the great event of the nineteenth century .” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 91 XXXI. The day after the review of Burnside’s division, some photographers from Brady’s Gallery came up to the White House to make some stereoscopic studies for me of the President’s office. They requested a dark closet, in which to develop the pictures ; and without a thought that I was in- fringing upon anybody’s rights, I took them to an unoccupied room of which little “ Tad ” had taken possession a few days before, and with the aid of a couple of the servants, had fitted up as a min- iature • theatre, with stage, curtains, orchestra, stalls, parquette, and all. Knowing that the use required would interfere with none of his arrange- ments, I led the way to this apartment. Everything went on well, and one or two pict- ures had been taken, when suddenly there was an uproar. The operator came back to the office, and said that “ Tad ” had taken great offence at the occupation of his room without his consent, and had locked the door, refusing all admission. The chemicals had been taken inside, and there was no way of getting at them, he having carried off the key. In the midst of this conversation, “ Tad ” burst in, in a fearful passion. He laid all the blame upon me, — said that I had no right to use his room, and that the men should not go in even to get their things. He had locked the door, and they should not go there again — “ they had no 92 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. business in his room ! ” Mr. Lincoln had been sitting for a photograph, and was still in the chair. He said, very mildly, “ Tad, go and unlock the door.” Tad went off muttering into his mother’s room, refusing to obey. I followed him into the passage, but no coaxing would pacify him. Upon my return to the President, I found him still sitting patiently in the chair, from which he had not risen. He said: “ Has not the boy opened that door?” I replied that we could do nothing with him, — he had gone off' in a great pet. Mr. Lincoln’s lips came together firmly, and then, suddenly rising, he strode across the passage with the air of one bent on punishment, and disappeared in the domestic apartments. Directly he returned with the key to the theatre, which he unlocked himself. “ There,” said he, “ go ahead, it is all right now.” He then went back to his office, followed by myself, and resumed his seat. “ Tad,” said he, half apolo- getically, “ is a peculiar child. He was vio- lently excited when I went to him. I said, ‘ Tad, do you know you are making your father a great deal of trouble ? ’ He burst into tears, instantly giving me up the key.” This brief glimpse of the home life of the Presi- dent, though trifling in itself, is the gauge of his entire domestic character. The Hon. W. D. Kelly, of Philadelphia, in an address delivered in that city soon after the assasination, said : “ His intercourse with his family was beautiful as that with his fr aids. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 93 [ think that father never loved his children more fondly than he. The President never seemed grander in my sight than when, stealing upon him in the evening, I would find him with a book open before him, as he is represented in the popular pho- tograph, with little Tad beside him. There were of course a great many curious books sent to him, and it seemed to be one of the special delights of his life to open those books at such an hour, that his boy could stand beside him, and they could talk as he turned over the pages, the father thus giving to the son a portion of that care and attention of which he was ordinarily deprived by the duties of office pressing upon him.” No matter who was with the President, or how intently he might be absorbed, little Tad was always welcome. At the time of which I write he was eleven years old, and of course rapidly passing from childhood into youth. Suffering much from an infirmity of speech which developed in his infancy, he seemed on this account especially dear to his father. “ One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,” and it was an impressive and affecting sight to me to see the burdened President lost for the time being in the affectionate parent, as he would take the little fellow in his arms upon the withdrawal of visitors, and caress him with all the fondness of a mother for the babe upon her bosom 1 Tad, as he was universally called, almost always accompanied his father upon the various 94 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. excursions down the Potomac, which he was in tne habit of making. Once, on the way to Fortress Monroe, he became very troublesome. The Pres- ident was much engaged in conversation with the party who accompanied him, and he at length said, “ Tad, if you will be a good boy, and not disturb me any more till we get to Fortress Monroe, I will give you a dollar.” The hope of reward was effect- ual for a while in securing silence, but, boy-like, Tad soon forgot his promise, and was as noisy as ever. Upon reaching their destination, however, he said very promptly, “ Father, I want my dollar.” Mr. Lincoln turned to him with the inquiry : “ Tad, do you think you have earned it?” “Yes,” was the sturdy reply. Mr. Lincoln looked at him half reproachfully for an instant, and then taking from his pocket-book a dollar note, he said: “ Well, my son, at any rate, I will keep my part of the bargain.” While paying a visit to Commodore Porter at Fortress Monroe, on one occasion, an incident oc- curred, subsequently related by Lieutenant Braine, one of the officers on board the flag-ship, to the Rev. Mr. Ewer, of New York. Noticing that the banks of the river were dotted with spring blossoms, the President said, with the manner of one asking a special favor : “ Commodore, Tad is very fond of flowers ; — won’t you let a couple of your men take a boat and go with him for an hour or two along shore, and gather a few? — Jt will be a great gratification to him.” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 95 There is a lesson in such simple incidents, — abounding as they did in the life of the late Presi- dent, — which should not be lost upon the young men of this country. The Commander-in-Cluef of the Army and Navy of the United States, — with almost unlimited power in his hands, — the meekness and simplicity with which Mr. Lincoln bore the honors of that high position, is a spectacle fcr all time. How paltry do conceit and vainglory appear in the majesty of such an example. “ Nothing was more marked in Mr. Lincoln’s personal demeanor,” writes one who knew him well,* “ than his utter unconsciousness of his posi- tion. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to find another man who would not, upon a sudden trans- fer from the obscurity of private life in a country town to the dignities and duties of the Presidency, feel it incumbent upon him to assume something of the manner and tone befitting that position. Mr. Lincoln never seemed to be aware that his place or his business were essentially different from those in which he had always been engaged. He brought to every question — the loftiest and most imposing — the same patient inquiry into details, the same eager longing to know and to do ex- actly what was just and right, and the same work- ing-day, plodding, laborious devotion, which char- acterized his management of a client’s case at his law office in Springfield. He had duties to perform * Hon. Henry J. Raymond. 96 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. m both places — in the one case to his country, as to his client in the other. But all duties were alike to him. All called equally upon him for the best service of his mind and heart, and all were alike performed with a conscientious, single-hearted de- votion that knew no distinction, but was absolute \nd perfect in every case.” XXXII. In the Executive Chamber one evening, there vere present a number of gentlemen, among them Mr. Seward. A point in the conversation suggesting the thought, the President said : “ Seward, you never heard, did you, how I earned my first dollar?” “No,” rejoined Mr. Seward. “Well,” continued Mr. Lincoln, “ I was about eighteen years of age. I belonged, you know, to what they call down South, the ‘ scrubs ; ’ people who do not own slaves are nobody there. But we had succeeded in raising, chiefly by my labor, sufficient produce, as I thought, to justify me in taking it down the river to sell. “ After much persuasion, I got the consent of mother to go, and constructed a little flatboat, large enough to take a barrel or two of things that we had gathered, with myself and little bundle, down to New Orleans. A steamer was coming down the river. We have,' you know, no wharves on SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 97 the Western streams ; and the .custom was, if passengers were at any of the landings, for them to go out in a boat, the steamer stopping and taking them on board. “ I was contemplating my new flatboat, and won- dering whether I could make it stronger or improve it in any particular, when two men came down to the shore in carriages with trunks, and looking at the different boats singled out mine, and asked, 1 Who owns this ? ’ I answered, somewhat mod- estly, ‘I do.’ ‘ Will you,’ said one of them, ‘take us and our trunks -out to the steamer ? ’ ‘ Cer- tainly,’ said I. I was very glad to have the chance of earning something. I supposed that each of them would give me two or three bits. The trunks were put on my flatboat, the passengers seated themselves on the trunks, and I sculled them out to the steamboat. “ They got on board, and I lifted up their heavy trunks, and put them on deck. The steamer was about to put on steam again, when I called out that they had forgotten to pay me. Each of them took from his pocket a silver half-dollar, and threw it on the floor of my boat. I could scarcely believe my eyes as I picked up the money. Gentlemen, you may think it w r as a very little thing, and in these days it seems to me a trifle ; but it was a most important incident in my life I could scarcely credit that I, a poor boy, had earned a dollar in less than a day, — that by honest work I had earned a 98 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. dollar. The world seemed wider and fairer before me. I was a more hopeful and confident being from that time.” XXXIII. The Hon. Robert Dale Owen was associated in a very interesting interview with Mr. Lincoln, which took place a few weeks prior to the issue of the President’s Message for 1863, to which was appended the 'Proclamation of Amnesty. It had been understood in certain quarters that such a step was at this period in contemplation by the Executive. Being in Washington, Mr. Owen called upon the President on a Saturday morning, and said that he had a matter upon which he had expended consid- erable thought, which he wished to lay -before him. Knowing nothing of the object, Mr. Lincoln replied: “You see how it is this morning; there are many visitors waiting; can’t you come up to-morrow morning ? I shall be alone then ; and, if you have no scruples upon the subject, I can give you as much time as you wish.” Mr. Owen assured him of his readiness to come at any hour most con- venient, and ten o’clock was named. Punctual to the appointment, the hour found him at the house. A repeated summons at the bell brought no re- sponse, and he at length pushed open the door and walked leisurely up the stairs to the reception-room. Neither servant or secretary was to be seen. Pres- ently Mr. Lincoln passed through the hall to his SIS MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 99 office, and all was still again. Looking vainly for a servant to announce his name, Mr. Owen finally went to the office- door, and knocked. “Really,” said he, “Mr. President, I owe you an apology for coming in upon you in this uncere- monious way*; but I have for some time been wait- ing the appearance of a servant.” “Oh,” was the good-natured reply, “the boys are all out this morning. I have been expecting you; come in and sit down.” Proceeding directly to the subject he had in hand, at the same time unfolding a manuscript of large proportions, Mr. Owen said : “ I have a paper, here, Mr. President, that I have prepared with some care, which I wish to read to you.” Mr. Lincoln glanced at the formidable document, (really much less voluminous than it appeared, be- ing very coarsely written,) and then, half uncon- sciously relapsing into an attitude and expression of resignation to what he evidently considered an infliction which could not well be avoided, signified his readiness to listen. The article was a very carefully prepared digest of historical precedents in relation to the subject of amnesty, in connection with treason and rebellion. It analyzed English and continental history, and reviewed elaborately the action of President Washington in reference to Shay’s and the subsequent whiskey rebellion. “ I had read but two or three pages,” said Mr. 100 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Owen, in giving me this account, “ when Mr. Lincoln assumed an erect posture, and, fixing his eyes intently upon me, seemed wholly absorbed in the contents of the manuscript. Frequently he would break in with: ‘Was that so?’ ‘Please read that paragraph again,’ etc. When at length I caine to Washington’s proclamation to those en- gaged in the whiskey rebellion, he interrupted me with : ‘ What ! did Washington issue a proc- lamation of amnesty ? ’ ‘ Here it is, sir,’ was the reply. ‘Well, I never knew that,’ he rejoined; and so on through.” Upon the conclusion of the manuscript, Mr. Lin- coln said : “ Mr. Owen, is that for me ? ” “ Certainly, sir,” said Mr. O., handing him the roll. “ I understood that you were considei’ing this subject, and thought a review of this kind might be interesting to you.” “ Thei’e is a good deal of hard woi’k in that doc- ument,” continued Mr. Lincoln ; “ may I ask how long you were prepai’ing it?” “ About three months ; but then I have move leisure for such a work than you, Mr. Pi'esident.” Mr. Lincoln took the manuscript, and, folding it up cai’efully, ai’ose, and laid it away in the pigeon- hole marked “ O,” in his desk. Returning to his chair, he said : “ Mr. Owen, it is due to you that I should say that you have confeiTed a very essential sei'vice, both upon me and the coun- try, by the preparation of this paper. It contains SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 101 that which it was exceedingly important that 1 should know, but which, if left to myself, I never should have known, because 1 have not the time necessary for. such an examination of authorities as a review of this kind involves. And I want to say, secondly, if £ had had the' time, I could not have done the work so well as you have done it.” This frank and generous avowal — so unlike what might be expected, under similar circum- stances, from most public men — was exceedingly characteristic of Mr. Lincoln. XXXTY. The morning of the last day of April, Mr. Wilkeson, the head of the New York “Tribune” bu- reau of correspondence in Washington at that period, called upon me with his sister-in-law, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, well known for her radical views on political and social questions, who wished an introduction to the President. Later in the day, after the accustomed pressure of visitors had sub- sided, I knocked at the door of the President’s study, and asked if I might bring up two or three New York friends. Mr. Lincoln fortunately was alone, and at once accorded the desired permission. Laying aside his papers, as we entered, he turned around in his chair for a leisurely conversation. One of the party took occasion shortly to endorse /ery decidedly the Amnesty Proclamation, which 102 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. had been severely censured by many friends of the Administration. This approval appeared to touch Mr. Lincoln deeply. He said, with a great deal of emphasis, and with an expression of countenance I shall never forget, “ When a man is sincerely pen- itent for his misdeeds, and gives satisfactory evi- dence of the same, he can safely be pardoned, and there is no exception to the rule.” Soon afterward he mentioned having received a visit the night before from Colonel Moody, “ the fighting Methodist parson,” as he was called in Ten- nessee, who had come on to attend the Philadelphia Conference. “ He told me,” said he, “ this story of Andy Johnson and General Buel, which inter- ested me intensely. The Colonel happened to be in Nashville the day it was reported that Buel had decided to evacuate the city. The Rebels, strongly reenforced, were said to be within two days’ march of the capital. Of course, the city was greatly excited. Moody said he went in search of Johnson, at the edge of the evening, and found him at his office, closeted with two gentlemen, who were walking the floor with him, one on each side. As he entered, they retired, leaving him alone with Johnson, who came up to him, manifest- ing intense feeling, and said, ‘ Moody, we are sold out ! Buel is a traitor ! He is ffoing; to evac- uate the city, and in forty-eight hours we shall all be in the hands of the Rebels ! ’ Then he com- menced pacing the floor again, twisting his hands, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 108 and chafing like a caged tiger, utterly insensible to his friend’s entreaties to become calm. Suddenly he turned and said, ‘ Moody, can you pray ? ’ 1 That is my business, sir, as a minister of the Gos- pel,’ returned the Colonel. ‘Well, Moody, I wish you would pray,’ said Johnson; and instantly both went down upon their knees, at opposite sides of the room. As the prayer waxed fervent, John- son began to respond in true Methodist style. Presently he crawled over on his hands and knees to Moody’s side, and put his arm over him, mani- festing the deepest emotion. Closing the prayer with a .hearty ‘ Amen ’ from each, they arose. Johnson took a long breath, and said, with em- phasis, ‘ Moody, I feel better ! ’ Shortly after- wards he asked, ‘ Will you stand by me ? ’ ‘ Cer- tainly I will,’ was the answer. ‘Well, Moody, I can depend upon you ; you are one in a hundred thousand ! ’ He then commenced pacing the floor again. Suddenly he wheeled, the current of his thought having changed, and said, ‘ Oh ! Moody, I don’t want you to think I have become a religious man because I asked you to pray. I am sorry to say it, but I am not, and have never pretended to be, religious. No one knows this better than you ; but, Moody, there is one thing about it — I do be- lieve in Almighty God ! And I beliave also in the Bible, and I say “ d n ” me, if Nashville shall be surrendered ! ’ ” And No'tbwflt was not surrendered. 104 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. XXXV. I have elsewhere intimated that Mr. Lincoln wag capable of much dramatic power. It is true this was never exhibited in his public life, or addresses, but it was shown in his keen appreciation of Shak- speare, and unrivalled faculty of story-telling. The incident just related, for example, was given with a thrilling effect which mentally placed John- son, for the time being, alongside of Luther and Cromwell. Profanity or irreverence was lost sight of in the fervid utterance of a highlv wrought and great-souled determination, united with a rare exhibition of pathos and self-abnegation. A narrative of quite a different character fol- lowed closely upon this, suggested by a remark made by myself. It was an account of how the President and Secretary of War received the news of the capture of Norfolk, early in the war. “Chase and Stanton,” said Mr. Lincoln, “had accompanied me to Fortress Monroe. While we were there, an expedition w r as fitted out for an attack on Norfolk. Chase and General Wool disappeared about the time we began to look for tidings of the result, and after vainly waiting their return till late in the evening, Stanton and I concluded to retire. My room was on the second floor of the Commandant’s house, and Stanton’s was below. The night was very warm, — the moon shining brightly, — and, •■oo restless to sleep, I threw off my clothes and sat SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 105 for some time bj the table, reading. Suddenly hearing footsteps, I looked out of the window, and saw two persons approaching, whom 1 knew by their relative size to be the missing men. They came into the passage and I heard them rap at Stanton’s door and tell him to get up, and come up-stairs. A moment afterward they entered my room. ‘ No time for ceremony, Mr. President,’ said General Wool; ‘Norfolk is ours!’ Stanton here burst in, just out of bed, clad in a long night- gown, which nearly swept the floor, his ear catching, as he crossed the threshold, .Wool’s last words. Perfectly overjoyed, he rushed at the General, whom he hugged most affectionately, fairly lifting him from the floor in his delight. The scene alto- gether must have been a comical one, though at the time we were all too greatly excited to take much note of mere appearances.” XXXVI. A great deal has been said of the uniform meek- ness and kindness of heart of Mr. Lincoln, but there would sometimes be afforded evidence that one grain of sand too much would break even this camel’s back. Among the callers at the White House one day, was an officer who had been cash- iered from the service. He had prepared an elab- orate defence of himself, which he consumed much time in reading to the President. When he had 106 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. finished, Mr. Lincoln replied, that even upon his own statement of the case, the facts would not warrant executive interference. Disappointed, and considerably crestfallen, the man withdrew. A few days afterward he made a second attempt to alter the President’s convictions, going over sub- stantially the same ground, and occupying about the same space of time, but without accomplishing his end. The third time he succeeded in forcing himself into Mr. Lincoln’s presence, who with great forbearance listened to another repetition of the case to its conclusion, but made no reply. Waiting for a moment, the man gathered from the expres- sion of his countenance that his mind was uncon- vinced. Turning very abruptly, he said: “Well, Mr. President, I see you are fully determined not to do rrre justice ! ” This was too aggravating, even for Mr. Lincoln. Manifesting, however, no more feeling than that indicated by a slight com- pression of the lips, he very quietly arose, laid down a package of papers he held in his hand, and then suddenly seizing the defunct officer by the coat-collar, he marched him forcibly to the door, saying, as he ejected him into the passage : “ Sir, I give you fair warning never to show yourself in this room again. I fan bear censure, but not in- sult ! ” In a whining tone the man begged for his papers, which he had dropped. “ Begone, sir,” said the President, “ your papers will be sent to fou. I never wish to see your face again ! ” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 107 Upon another occasion, as I was going through the passage, the door of the President’s office sud- denly opened, and two ladies, one of whom seemed in a towering passion, were unceremoniously ush- ered out by one of the attendants. As they passed me on their way down the stairs, I overheard the elder remonstrating with her companion upon the violence of her expressions. I afterward asked old Daniel what had happened ? “ Oh,” he replied, “ the younger woman was very saucy to the Presi- dent. She went one step too far ; and he told me to show them out of the house ? ” Of a similar character is an incident given by “ N. C. J.,” in a letter to the New York “ Times ” : — “ Among the various applicants, a well-dressed lady came forward, without apparent embarrass- ment in her air or manner, and addressed the Presi- dent. Giving her a very close and scrutinizing look, he said, 4 Well, madam, what can I do for you ? ’ She proceeded to tell him that she lived in Alexandria ; that the church where she worshipped had been taken for a hospital. 4 What church, madam ? ’ Mr. Lincoln asked, in a quick, nervous manner. 4 The church,’ she replied ; 4 and as there are only two or three wounded soldiers in it, I came to see if you would not let us have it, as we want it very much to worship God in.’ 4 Mad- am, have you been to see the Post Surgeon at Alexandria about this matter ? ’ 4 Yes, sir ; but we 108 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. could do nothing with him.’ ‘Well, we put him there to attend to just such business, and it is rea- sonable to suppose that he knows better what should be done under the circumstances than I do. See here : you say you live in Alexandria ; prob- ably you own property there. How much will you give to assist in building a hospital? ’ “ 4 You know, Mr. Lincoln, our property is very much embarrassed by the war ; — so, really, I could hardly afford to give much for such a purpose.’ “ ‘ Well, madam, I expect we shall have another fight soon ; and my candid opinion is, God wants that church for poor wounded Union soldiers, as much as he does for secesh people to worship in.’ Turning to his table, he said, quite abruptly, ‘You will excuse me ; I can do nothing for you. Good day, madam.’ “ I had noticed two other women who stood just back of me. I was fully convinced that I had rightly guessed their errand from their appearance ; for one of them, whose wicked eyes shot fire, said to her companion in a spiteful under-tone, ‘ Oh ! the old brute, — there is no use asking for our passes ; come, let ’s go.’ And they did go, in evident wrath ; leaving the President to perform more pleasant duties.” The same correspondent witnessed also the fol- lowing scene — “ A couple of aged, plain country people, poorly clad, but with frank open countenances, now came SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 10'9 forward. * Now is jour time, dear,’ said the hus- band, as the President dismissed the one preceding them. The lady stepped forward, made a low courtesy, and said, ‘ Mr. President.’ “ Mr. Lincoln, looking over Ids spectacles, fixed those gray, piercing, yet mild eyes upon her, then lifting his head and extending his hand, he said, in the kindest tones : ‘ W ell, good lady, w T hat can I do for you ? ’ “ ‘ Mr. President,’ she resumed, ‘ I feel so em- barrassed I can hardly .speak. I never spoke to a President before ; but I am a good Union woman down in Maryland, and my son is wounded badly, and in the hospital, and I have been trying to get him out, but somehow could n’t, and they said I had better come right to you. When the war first broke out I gave my son first to God, and then told him he might go fight the Rebels ; and now if you will let me take him home I will nurse him up, and just as soon as he gets well enough he shall go right back and help put down the rebellion. He is a good boy, and don't want to shirk the service.’ “ I was looking full in Mr. Lincoln’s face. I saw the tears gathering in his eyes, and his lips quiv- ered as he replied : “ ‘ Yes, yes, God bless you ! you shall have your son. What hospital did you say ? ’ It seemed a relief to him to turn aside and write a few words, which he handed to the woman, saying : ‘ There, give that to ; and you will get your son, if he is able to go home with you.’ 110 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. “‘God bless you, Mr. President!’ said tho father, the only words he had uttered ; and the mother, making a low courtesy, fairly sobbed : ‘ O sir, we are so much obliged to }mu.’ ‘ Yes, yes ; all right ; and you will find that that will bring him,’ was spoken in tones so kindly and tender, that they have often since thrilled my memory.” XXXVII. In the year 1855 or ’56, George B. Lincoln, Esq., of Brooklyn, was travelling through the West in connection with a large New York dry-goods establishment. He found himself one night in an insignificant town on the Illinois River, by the name of Naples. The only tavern of the place had evi- dently been constructed with reference to business on the smallest possible scale. Poor as the prospect seemed, Mr. Lincoln had no alternative but to put up at the place. The supper-room was also used as a lodging-room. After a tolerable supper and a comfortable hour before the fire, Mr. L. told his host that he thought he would “ go to bed.” “ Bed ! ” echoed the landlord ; “ there is no bed for you in this house, unless you sleep with that man yonder. He has the only one we have to spare.” “Well,” returned Mr. Lincoln, “the gentleman has possession, and perhaps would not like a bedfellow.” Upon this, a grizzly head ap^ SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Ill ' peared out of the pillows, and said, “ What is your name?” “ They call me Lincoln at home,” was the reply. “ Lincoln ! ” repeated the stranger ; “any connection of our Illinois Abraham?” “No,” replied Mr. L., “I fear not.” “Well,” said the old man, “I will let any man by the. name of ‘ Lincoln ’ sleep with me, just for the sake of the name. You have heard of Abe?” he inquired. “ Oh yes, very often,” replied Mr. Lincoln. “ No man could travel far in this State without hearing of 7/m, and I would be very glad to claim connec- tion, if I could do so honestly.” “ Well,” said the old gentleman, “ my name is Simmons. ‘ Abe ’ and I used to live and work together when we were young men. Many a job of wood-cutting and rail-splitting have I done up with him. Abe Lin- coln, ” said he with emphasis, “ was the likeliest boy in God's world. He would work all day as hard as any of us — and study by firelight in the log-house half the night ; and in this way he made himself a thorough practical surveyor. Once, dur- ing those days, I was in the upper part of the State, and I met General Ewing, whom President Jack- son had sent to the Northwest to make surveys. I told him about Abe Lincoln, what a student he was, and that I wanted he should give him a job. He looked over his memoranda, and, pulling out. a paper, said : 1 There is county must be sur- veyed ; if your friend can do the work properly, I shall be glad to have him undertake it — - the com 112 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. pensation will be six hundred dollars ! ’ Pleased as I could be, I hastened to Abe, after I got home, with an account of what I had secured for him. He was sitting before the fire in the log- cabin when I told him ; and what do you think was his answer ? When I finished, he looked up very quietly, and said, ‘ Mr. Simmons, I thank you very sincerely for your kindness, but I don’t think I will undertake the job.’ ‘ In the name of wonder,’ said I, ‘ why ? Six hundred dollars does not grow upon every bush out here in Illinois.’ ‘ I know that,’ said Abe, ‘ and I need the money bad enough, Simmons, as you know ; but I never have been under obligation to a Democratic administration, and I never intend to be so long as I can get my living another way. General Ewing must find another man to do his work.’ ” I related this story to the President one day, and asked him if it was true. “ Pollard Simmons ! ” said he : “ well do I remember him. It is correct about our working together ; but the old man must have stretched the facts somewhat about the survey of the county. I think I should have been very glad of the job at that time, no matter what admin- istration was in power.” Notwithstanding this, how- ever, I am inclined to believe Mr. Simmons was not far out of the way. His statement seems very characteristic of what Abraham Lincoln may be supposed to have been at twenty-three or twenty- five years of age. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE 113 Mr. G. B. Lincoln also told me of an amusing circumstance which took place at Springfield soon after Mr. Lincoln’s nomination in 1860. A hatter in Brooklyn secretly obtained the size of the future President’s head, and made for him a very elegant hat, which he sent by his townsman, Lincoln, to Springfield. About the time it was presented, various other testimonials of a similar character had come in from different sections. Mr. Lincoln took the hat, and after admiring its texture and workmanship, put it on his head and walked up to a looking-glass. Glancing from the reflection to Mrs. Lincoln, he said, with his peculiar twinkle of the eye, “Well, wife, there is one thing likely to come out of this scrape, any how. We are going to have some new clothes /” One afternoon during the summer of 1862, the President accompanied several gentlemen to the Washington Navy-yard, to witness some experiments with a newly-invented gun. Subsequently the party went aboard of one of the steamers lying at the wharf. A discussion was going on as to the merits of the invention, in the midst of which Mr. Lincoln caught sight of some axes hanging up out* side of the cabin. Leaving the group, he quietly went forward, and taking one down, returned with it, and said : “ Gentlemen, you may talk about your ‘ Raphael repeaters ’ and ‘ eleven-inch Dald- grens ; ’ but here is an institution which I guess 1 understand better than either of you.” With that 114 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. lie held the axe out at arm’s length by the end of the handle, or “ helve,” as the wood-cutters call it — a feat not another person of the party could perform, though all made the attempt. In such acts as this, showing that he neither forgot nor was ashamed of his humble origin, the late President exhibited his true nobility of character. He was a perfect illustration of his favorite poet’s words : “ The rank is hut the guinea’s stamp, The man’s the gold, tor a’ that! ” XXXVIII. In March, 1864, Edwin Forrest came to Wash- ington to fulfil an engagement at Ford’s Theatre. It was announced one day that he was to appear that evening in “ Richelieu.” I was with the President, when Senator Harris of New York came in. After he had finished his business, which was to secure the remittance of the sentence of one of his constituents, who had been imprisoned on what seemed insufficient grounds, I told the President that Forrest was to play Richelieu that evening, and, knowing his tastes, I said it was a play which I thought he would enjoy, for Forrest’s rep- resentation of it was the most life-like of anything I had ever seen upon the stage. “ Who wrote the play?” said he. “ Buhvei’,” I replied. “Ah!”, he rejoined ; “ well, I knew Bulwer wrote novels, but I did not know he was a play-writer also. It SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 115 tnay seem somewhat strange to say,” he continued, “ but I never read an entire novel in my life ! ” Said Judge Harris, “ Is it possible ? ” “ Yes,” returned the President, “ it is a fact. I once com- menced ‘ Ivanhoe,’ but never finished it.” This statement, in this age of the world, seems almost incredible — but I give the circumstance as it oc- curred. However it may have been with regard to nov- els, it is very certain — as I have already illus- trated — that he found time to read Shakspeare ; and that he was also fond of certain kinds of poetry. N. P. Willis once told me, that he was taken quite by surprise, on a certain occasion when he was riding with the President and Mrs. Lincoln, by Mr. Lincoln, of his own accord, referring to, and quoting several lines from his poem entitled “ Par- rhasius.” In the spring of 1862, the President spent sev- eral days at Fortress Monroe, awaiting military operations upon the Peninsula. As a portion of the Cabinet were with him, that was temporarily the seat of government, and he bore with him con- stantly the burden of public affairs. His favorite diversion was reading Shakspeare. One day (it chanced to be the day before the capture of Norfolk) as he sat reading alone, he called to his aide* in the adjoining room, — “You have been writing long enough, Colonel; come in. here; I * Colonel Le Grand B. Cannon, of General Wool’s staff. 116 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. want to read you a passage in ‘ Hamlet.’ ” He read the discussion on ambition between Hamlet and his courtiers, and the soliloquy, in which conscience debates of a future state. This was followed by passages from “ Macbeth.” Then opening to “ King John,” he read from the third act the passage in which Constance bewails her imprisoned, lost*boy. Closing the book, and recalling the words, — “ And, father cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven: If that be true, I shall see my boy again,” — Mr. Lincoln said : “ Colonel, did you ever dream of a lost friend, and feel that you were holding sweet communion with that friend, and yet have a sad consciousness that it was not a, reality ? — just so I dream of my boy Willie.” Overcome with emotion, he dropped his head on the table, and sobbed aloud. XXXIX. William Wallace Lincoln, I never knew. He died Thursday, February 20th, 1862, nearly two years before my intercourse with the President commenced. He had just entered upon his twelfth year, and has been' described to me as of an un- usually serious and thoughtful disposition. His death was the most crushing affliction Mr. Lincoln had ever been called upon to pass through. After the funeral, the President resumed his SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 117 official duties, but mechanically, and with a terrible weight at his heart. The following Thursday he gave way to his feelings, and shut himself from all society. The second Thursday it was the same ; he would see no one, and seemed a prey to the deepest melancholy. About this time the Rev. Francis Vinton, of Trinity Church, New York, had occasion to spend a few days in Washington. An acquaintance of Mrs. Lincoln and of her sister, Mrs. Edwards, of Springfield, he was requested by them to come up and- see the President. The setting apart of Thursday for the indulgence of his grief had gone on for several weeks, and Mrs. Lincoln began to be seriously alarmed for the health of her husband, of which fact Dr. Vinton was apprised. Mr. Lincoln received him in the parlor, and an opportunity was soon embraced by the cler- gyman to chide him ,f° r showing so rebellious a disposition to the decrees of Providence. He told him plainly that the indulgence of such feelings, though natural, was sinful. It was unworthy one who believed in the Christian religion. He had duties to the living, greater than those of aiiy other man, as the chosen father, and leader of the people, and he was unfitting himself for his responsibilities by thus giving way to his grief. To mourn the departed as lost belonged to heathenism — not to Christianity. “Your son,” said Dr. Vinton, “is alive , in Paradise. Do you remember that passage m the Gospels : ‘ God is not the God of the dead 118 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. but of the living, for all live unto him ’ ? ” The President had listened as one in a stupor, until his ear caught the words, “Your son is alive.” Start- ing from the sofa, he exclaimed, “Alive! alive! Surely you mock me.” “ No, sir, believe me,” re- plied Dr. Vinton ; “ it is a most comforting doctrine of the church, founded upon the words of Christ himself.” Mr. Lincoln looked at him a moment, and then, stepping forward, he threw his arm around the clergyman’s neck, and, laying his head upon his breast, sobbed aloud. “ Alive ? alive ? ” he repeated! “ My dear sir,” said Dr. Vinton, greatly moved, as he twined his own arm around the weeping father, “ believe this, for it is God’s most precious truth. Seek not your son among the dead ; he is not there ; he lives to-day in Paradise ! Think of the full import of the words I have quoted. The Sadducees, when they questioned Jesus, had no other conception than that Abra- ham, Isaac, and Jacob were dead and buried. Mark the reply: ‘ Now that the dead are raised, even Moses showed at the bush when he called the Lord the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. For he is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for all live unto him ! ’ Did not the aged -patriarch mourn his sons as dead ? — ‘ Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin also.’ But Joseph and Simeon were both living, though he believed it not. Indeed, Joseph being taken from him, was the eventual SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 119 means of the preservation of the whole family. And so God has called your son into his upper kingdom — a kingdom and an existence as real, more real, than your own. It may be that he too, like Joseph, has gone, in God’s good providence, to be the salvation of his father’s household. It is a part of the Lord’s plan for the ultimate happiness of you' and yours. Doubt it not. I have a ser- mon,” continued Dr. Yinton, “ upon this subject, which I think might interest you.” Mr. Lincoln begged him to send it at an early day — thanking him repeatedly for his cheering and hftpeful words. The sermon was sent, and read over and over by the President, w r ho caused a copy to be made for his own private use before it was returned. Through a member of the family, I have been in- formed that Mr. Lincoln’s views in relation to spir- itual things seemed changed from that hour. Cer- tain it is, that thenceforth he ceased the observance of the day of the week upon which his son died, and gradually resumed his accustomed cheerfulness XL. Among my visitors in the early part of May was the Hon. Mr. Alley, of Massachusetts, who gave me a deeply interesting inside glimpse of the Chicago Republican Convention in 1860. The pop- ular current had, at first, set very strongly in favor of Mr. Seward, who, many supposed, would be 120 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. nominated almost by acclamation. The evening before the balloting the excitement was at the highest pitch. Mr. Lincoln was telegraphed at Springfield, that his chances with the Convention depended upon obtaining the votes of two delega- tions which were named in the despatch ; and that, to secure this support, he must pledge himself, if elected, to give places in his Cabinet to the respec- tive heads of those delegations. A reply was im- mediately returned over the wires, characteristic of the man. It was to this effect : — “ I authorize no bargains, and will be bound by none. A. Lincoln.” It is unqestionable that the country was not pre- pared for the final action of this Convention. In various sections of the Eastern and Middle States, the antecedents and even the name of Mr. Lincoln were entirely unknown. The newspapers announced the nominee as the “ Illinois Rail-splitter ; ” and however popular this title may have been with the masses, it is not to be denied that it seemed to many people a very extraordinary qualification for the Presidency. An acquaintance of mine, who happened to be in Boston on the evening of the day the Convention adjourned, formed one of a large group at his hotel, eagerly discussing the result. Only one or two of the party knew any- thing whatever of the first name on the “ticket,” and what they knew was soon told. Considerable SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 121 disappointment could be seen in the faces of those composing the circle. One rough-looking sover- eign, from Cape Cod, or Nantucket, had listened attentively, but taken no part in the conversation. Turning away at length, with an expression of deep disgust, he muttered : “ A set of consummate fools ! Nominate a man for the Presidency who has never smelt salt water ! ” Some of Mr. Lincoln’s immediate neighbors were taken as completely by surprise as those in distant States. An old resident of Springfield told me that there lived within a block or two of his house, in that city, an Englishman, who of course still cher- ished to some extent the ideas and prejudices of his native land. Upon hearing of the choice at Chi- cago he could not contain his astonishment. © “ What ! ” said he, “ Abe Lincoln nominated for President of the United States ? Can it be possible ! A man that buys a ten-cent beefsteak for his break- fast, and carries it home himself. ” A correspondent of the “ Portland Press ” has given to the public the following account of Mr. Lincoln’s reception of the nomination; — “In June, 1860, a Massachusetts gentleman was induced to take the opportunity, in company with several delegates and others interested in the objects of the Convention, to go to Chicago and spend a few days in visiting that section of our country. In a very few minutes after the final balloting, when Mr. Lincoln was nominated, it happened that a 122 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. train of cars started upon the Central Railroad, passing through Springfield, and Mr. R. took pas- sage in the same. Arriving at Springfield, he put up at a public house, and, loitering upon the front door-steps, had the curiosity to inquire of the land- lord where Mr. Lincoln lived. While giving the necessary directions, the landlord suddenly re- marked, ‘ There is Mr. Lincoln now, coming down the sidewalk ; that tall, crooked man, loosely walk- ing this way. If you wish to see him, you will have an opportunity by putting yourself in his track.’ “ In a few moments the object of his curiosity reached the point the gentleman occupied, who, advancing, ventured to accost him thus : ‘ Is this Mr. Lincoln ? ’ ‘ That, sir, is my name,’ was the * courteous reply. ‘ My name is R., from Plymouth County, Massachusetts,’ returned the gentleman, and learning that you have to lay been made the public property of the United States, I have ven tured to' introduce myself, with a view to a brief acquaintance, hoping you will pardon such a patri otic curiosity in a stranger.’ Mr. Lincoln received his salutations with cordiality, told him no apology was necessary for his introduction, and asked him to accompany him to his residence. He had just come from the telegraph office, where he had learned the fact of his nomination ; and was on his return home, when Mr. R. met and accompanied him thither. “ Arriving at Mr. Lincoln’s residence, he was SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 123 introduced to Mrs. Lincoln and the two boys, and entered into conversation in relation to the Lincoln family of the Old Colony, — the Hingham General Lincoln of the Revolutionary army, and the two Worcester Lincolns, brothers, who were governors of Massachusetts and Maine at one and the same • time. In reply to Mr. R.’s inquiry, whether he could trace his ancestry to either of those early families of his own name, Mr. Lincoln, with charac- teristic facetiousness, replied that he could not say that he ever had an ancestor older than his father ; and therefore had it not in his power to trace his genealogy to so patriotic a source as old General Lincoln of the Revolution ; though he wished he could. After some further pleasant conversation, chiefly relating to the early history of the Pilgrim Fathers, with which he seemed familiar, Mr. R. desired the privilege of writing a letter to be de- spatched by the next mail. He was very promptly and kindly provided with the necessary means.- As he began to write, Mr. Lincoln approached, and tapping him on the shoulder, expressed the hope that he was net a spy who had come thus early to report his faults to the public. ‘ By no means, sir,’ protested Mr. R. ; ‘ I am writing home to my wife, who, I dare say, will hardly credit the fact that I am writing in your house.’ ‘ O, sir,’ rejoined Mr. Lincoln, ‘ if your wife doubts your word, I will cheerfully indorse it, if you will give me permis- sion ; ’ and taking the pen from Mr. R., he wrote 124 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. the following words in a clear hand upon the blank page of the letter : — . “ * I am happy to say that your husband is at the present time a guest in my house, and in due time I trust you will greet his safe return to the bosom of his family. A. Lincoln.’ “ This gave Mr. R. an excellent autograph of Mr. Lincoln, besides bearing witness to his hospi- table and cheerful spirit. “ Whilst thus engaged in pleasant conversation, the cars arrived that brought from Chicago the committee of the Convention appointed to notify Mr. Lincoln of his nomination. He received them at the door, and conducted them to seats in his parlor. On the reception of this committee, Mr. Lincoln appeared somewhat embarrassed, but soon resumed his" wonted tranquillity and cheerfulness. At the proper time, Governor Morgan, of New York, chairman of the committee, arose, and, with becoming dignity, informed Mr. Lincoln that he and his fellows appeared in behalf of the Convention in session at Chicago, to inform him that he had that day been unanimously nominated to the office of President of the United States ; and asked his per- mission to report to that body his acceptance of the nomination. Mr. Lincoln, with becoming modesty, but very handsomely, replied that he felt his insuf- ficiency for the vast responsibilities which must de- volve upon that office under the impending circum- stances of the times ; but if God and his country SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 125 caJled for his services in that direction, he should shrink from no duty that might be imposed upon him, and therefore he should not decline the nomi- nation. “ After this ceremony had passed, Mr. Lincoln remarked to the company, that as an appropriate conclusion to an interview so important and inter- esting as that which had just transpired, he sup- posed good manners would require that he should treat the committee with something to drink ; and opening a door that led into a room in the rear, he called out ‘ Mary ! Mary ! ’ A girl responded to the call, to whom Mr. Lincoln spoke a few words in an under-tone, and, closing the door, returned again to converse with his guests. In a few minutes the maiden entered, bearing a large waiter, containing several glass tumblers, and a large pitcher in the midst, and placed it upon the centre-table. Mr. Lincoln arose, and gravely addressing the company, said : ‘ Gentlemen, we must pledge our mutual healths in the most healthy beverage, which God has given to man — it is the only beverage I have ever used or allowed in my family, and I cannot conscientiously depart from it on the present occa- sion — it is pure Adam’s ale from the spring; ’ and, taking a tumbler, he touched it to his lips, and pledged them his highest respects in a cup of cold water. Of course, all his guests were constrained to admire his consistency, and to join in his ex 126 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE, “ Mr. R., when he went to Chicago, had but little political sympathy with the Republican Con- vention which nominated Mr. Lincoln ; but when he saw, as he did see for himself, his sturdy adhe- rence to a high moral principle, he returned an admirer of the man, and a zealous- advocate of his election.” XLI. In the July following Mr. Lincoln’s inaugura- tion, an extra session of Congress was called. In the message then sent in, speaking of secession, and the measures taken by the Southern leaders to bring it about, there occurs the following sentence : “ With rebellion thus sugar-coated , they have been drugging the public mind of their section for more than thirty years ; until, at length, they have brought many good men to a willingness to take up arms against the government,” etc. Mr. De- frees, the government printer, told me that, when the message was being printed, he was a good deal disturbed by the use of the term “ sugar-coated, ” and finally went to the President about it. Their relations to each other being of the most intimate character, he told Mr. Lincoln frankly, that he ought to remember that a message to Congress was a different affair from a speech at a mass- meeting in Illinois ; that the messages became a part of history, and should be written accordingly. “ What is the matter now ? ” inquired the Presi- dent. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 127 “ Why,” said Mr. Defrees, “ you have used an undignified expression in the message ; ” and then, reading the paragraph aloud, he added, “ I would alter the structure of that, if I were you.” “ Defrees,” replied Mr. Lincoln, “ that word expresses precisely my idea, and I am not going to chancre it. The time will never come in this coun- try when the people won’t know exactly what su- gar-coated means ! ” On a subsequent occasion, Mr. Defrees told me, a certain sentence of another message was very awkwardly constructed. Calling the President’s attention to it in the proof-copy, the latter acknowl- edged the force of the objection raised, and said, “ Go home, Defrees, and see if you can better it.” The next day Mr. Defrees took in to him his amendment. Mr. Lincoln met him by saying : “ Seward found the same fault that you did, and he has been rewriting the paragraph also.” Then, reading Mr. Defrees’s version, he said, “ I believe you have beaten Seward ; bitt, ‘ I jings,’ I think I can beat you both.” Then, taking up his pen, he wrote the sentence as it was finally printed.” Mr. George E. Baker, Mr. Seward’s private secretary, informed me that he was much amused and interested in a phase of Mr. Lincoln’s char- acter which came under his own observation. It was Mr. Baker’s province to take to the Presi- dent all public documents from the State Depart- ment requiring his signature. During the first few 128 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. months, Mr. Lincoln would read each paper care fully through, always remarking, “I never sign a document I have not first read.” As his cares increased, he at length departed from his habit so far as to say to the messenger, “ Won’t you read these papers to me ? ” This went on for a few months, and he then modified this practice by re- questing “ a synopsis of the contents.” His time became more and more curtailed, and for the las' year his only expression was, “ Show me where you want my name ? ” It is not generally known that the speech always made by the President, upon the presentation of s foreign minister, is carefully written for him by the Secretary of State. A clerk in the department, ignorant of this custom, was one day sent to the White House by Mr. Seward, with the speech te be delivered upon such an occasion. Mr. Lincoln was writing at his desk, as the clerk entered — a half-dozen senators and representatives occupying the sofa and chairs. Unable to disguise a feeling of delicacy, in the dischai’ge of such an errand, the young man approached, and in a low voice said to the President : “ The Secretary has sent the speech you are to make to-day to the Swiss minister.” Mr. Lincoln laid down his pen, and, taking the manuscript, said in a loud tone : “ Oh, this is a speech Mr. Seward has written for me, is it ? I guess I will try it before these gentlemen, and see how it goes.” Thereupon he proceeded to read it, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 129 m a waggish manner, remarking, as he concluded, with sly humor : “ There, I like that. It has the " i merit of originality .” “Within a month after Mr. Lincoln’s first acces- sion to office,” says the Hon. Mr. Raymond, “ when the South was threatening civil war, and armies of office-seekers were besieging him in the Exec- utive Mansion, he said to a friend that he wished he could get time to attend to the Southern ques- tion ; he thought he knew what was wanted, and believed he could do something towards quieting the rising discontent ; but the office - seekers de- manded all his time. ‘ I am,’ said he, ‘ like a man so busy in letting rooms in one end of his house, that he can’t stop to put out the fire that is burning the other.’ Two or three years later, when the people had made him a candidate for reelection, the same friend spoke to him of a mem- ber of*his Cabinet who was a candidate also. Mr. Lincoln said he* did not concern himself much about that. It was important to the country that the department over which his rival presided should be administered with vigor and energy, and what- ever would stimulate the Secretary to such action would do good. ‘R ,’ said he, ‘you were brought up on a farm, were you not ? Then you know what a chin fly is. My brother and I,’ he- added, ‘ were once ploughing corn on a Kentucky farm, I driving the horse, and he holding the plough. The horse was lazy ; but on one occasion 9 130 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. rushed across the field so that I, with my long legs, ^ could scarcely keep pace with him. On reaching the end of the furrow, I found an enormous chin fly fastened upon him, and knocked him off. My brother asked me what I did that for. I told him I did n’t want the old horse bitten in that way “Why,” said my brother, '•'■that ’s all that madelrim go ! ” Now,’ said Mr. Lincoln, ‘ if Mr. . has a presidential chin fly biting him, I ’m not going to knock him off, if it will only make his depart- ment go.’’ “ On another occasion the President said he was in great distress ; he had been to General McClel- lan’s house, and the General did not ask to see him ; and as he must talk to somebody, he had sent for General Franklin and myself, to obtain our opinion as to the possibility of soon commencing ac- tive operations with the Army of the Potomac. To use his own expression, if something was not soon done, the bottom would fall out of the whole affair , and if General McClellan did not want to use the army, he would like to borrow it, provided he could see how it could be made to do some- thing.” # XLII. One bright morning in May, the Sunday-school children of the city of Washington, marching in , procession on anniversary day, passed in review * Raymond’s life of Lincoln. • SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 131 thiough the portico on the north side of the White House. The President stood at the open window above the door, responding with a smile and a bow to the lusty cheers of the little folks as they passed. Hon. Mr. Odell, of Brooklyn, with one or two other gentlemen, stood by his side as I joined the group. It was a beautiful sight ; the rosy-cheeked boys and girls, in their “ Sunday’s best,” with banners and flowers, all intent upon seeing the President, and, as they caught sight of his tall figure, cheering as if their very lives depended upon it. After enjoying the scene for some time, making pleasant remarks about a face that now and. then struck him, Mr. Lincoln said : “ Mrs. Ann S. Stephens told me a story last night about Daniel Webster, when a lad, which was new to me, and it has been running in my head all the morn- ing.' When quite young, at school, Daniel was one day guilty of a gross violation of the rules. He was detected in the act, and called up by the teacher for punishment. This was to be the old- fashioned ‘ feruling ’ of the hand. His hands hap- pened to be very dirty. Knowing this, on his way to the teacher’s desk, he spit upon the palm of his right hand, wiping it off upon the side of hij pantaloons. ‘ Give me your hand, sir,’ said the teacher, very sternly. Out went the right hand, partly cleansed. The teacher looked at it a mo- ment, and said, ‘ Daniel, if you will find another oand in this school-room as filthy as that, I will let 132 srx MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. you off this time ! ’ Instantly from behind his back came the left hand. ‘ Here it is, sir,’ was the ready reply. ‘ That will do,’ said the teacher, ‘ for this time ; you can take your seat, sir.’ ” Mr. Lincoln’s heart was always open to children. I shall never forget his CQming into the “ studio ” one day, and finding my own little boy of two sum- mers playing on the floor. A member of the Cab- inet was with him, but laying aside all restraint, he took the little fellow at once in his arms, and they were soon on the best of terms. C?ld Daniel — alluded to on a previous page — gave me a touching illustration of this element in his character. A poor woman from Philadel- phia had been waiting with a baby in her arms for several days to see the President. It appeared bv her story, that her husband had furnished a sub- stitute for the army, but sometime afterward, in a state of intoxication, was induced to enlist. Upon reaching the post assigped his regiment, he de- serted, thinking the government was not entitled to his services. Returning home, he was arrested, tried, convicted, and sentenced to be shot. The sentence was to be executed on a Saturday. On Monday his wife left her home with her baby, to endeavor to see the President. Said Daniel, “ She had been waiting here three days, and there was no chance for her to get in. Late in the after- noon of the third day, the President was going through the passage to his private room to get a SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 138 cup of tea. On the way he heard the baby cry. He instantly went back to his office and rang the bell. ‘ Daniel,’ said he, ‘ is there a woman with a bahy in the anteroom ? ’ I said there was, and if he would allow me to say it, it was a case he ought to see ; for it was a matter of life and death. Said . he, ‘ Send her to me at once.’ She went in, told her story, and the President pardoned her husband. As the woman came out from his presence, her eyes were lifted and her lips moving in prayer, the tears streaming down her cheeks.” Said Daniel, O 0 “ I went up to her, and pulling her shawl, said, Madam, it was the baby that did it.’ ” When Mr. Lincoln visited New Y"ork in 1860, he felt a great interest in many of the institutions for reforming criminals and saving the young from a life of crime. Among others, he visited, unat- tended, the Five Points’ House of Industry, and the Superintendent of the Sabbath-school there gave the following account, of the event : — “ One Sunday morning, I saw a tall, remarkable- looking man enter the room and take a seat among us. He listened with fixed attention to our exer- cises, and his countenance expressed such genuine interest that I approached him and suggested that he might be willing to say something to the chil- dren. He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure ; and, coming forward, began a simple address, which at once fascinated every little hearer and hushed the room into silence. His language LSI SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. was strikingly beautiful, and his tones musical with intense feeling. The little faces would droop into sad conviction as he uttered sentences of warning, and would brighten into sunshine as he spoke cheer- ful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted to close his remarks, but^the imperative shout of ‘ Go on ! Oh, do go on ! ’ would compel him to resume. As I looked upon the gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger, and marked his powerful head and determined features, now touched into softness by the impressions of the moment, I felt an irrepressible curiosity to learn something more about him, and while he was quietly leaving the room I begged to know his name. He courteously replied, ‘ It is Abraham Lincoln, from Illinois.’ ” Mr. Nelson Sizer, one of the gallery ushers of Henry Ward Beecher’s church in Brooklyn, told me that about the time of the Cooper Institute speech, Mr. Lincoln was twice present at the morn- ing services of that church. On the first occasion, he was accompanied by his friend, George B. Lin- coln, Esq., and occupied a prominent seat in the centre of the house. On a subsequent Sunday morn- ing, not long afterwards, the church was packed , as usual, and the services had proceeded to the an- nouncement of the text, when the gallery door at the right of the organ-loft opened, and the tall figure of Mr. Lincoln entered, alon?. Again in the city over Sunday, he started out by himself to find the church, which he reached considerably SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 185 behind time. Evei’j seat was occupied ; but the gentlemanly usher at once surrendered his own, and, stepping back, became much interested in watching the effect of the sermon upon the western orator. As Mr. Beecher developed his line of argument, Mr. Lincoln’s body swaged forward, his lips parted, and he seemed at length entirely unconscious of his surroundings, — frequently giving vent to his satis- faction, at a well-put point or illustration, with a kind of involuntary Indian exclamation, — “ ugh /” — not audible beyond his immediate presence, but very expressive ! Mr. Lincoln henceforward had a profound admiration for the talents of the famous pastor of Plymouth Church. He once remarked to the Rev. Henry M. Field, of New York, in my presence, that “ he thought there was not upon record, in ancient or modern biography, so joroduc- % tive a mind, as had been exhibited in the career of Henry Ward Beecher ! ” XLIII. One of Mr. Lincoln’s biographers, speaking of the relations which existed between the President and his Cabinet, says : — “ He always maintained that the proper duty of each Secretary was to direct the details of everything done .vithin his own department, and to tender such sugges- tions, information, and advice to the President, as he might solicit at his hands. But the duty and responsi- 136 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. bility of deciding what line of policy should be pursued, or what steps should be taken in any specific case, in his judgment, belonged exclusively to the President ; and he was always willing and ready to assume it.” * The suppression of a portion of Secretary Came- ron’s official report for 1861, is a case in point. A number of printed copies of the report had left Washington before the “ incendiary ” passage was observed by Mr. Lincoln. The New York “ Trib- une ” published it as originally written. Late in the evening of the day that these were sent, the government printer took a copy to the President, saying he thought he ought to look it over and see if it wfls satisfactory. He stated, also, that a num- ber of copies of the report had been already ordered from the printing-office. Mr. Lincoln glanced over ,the copy placed in his hands, and his eye rested upon the passage in question, which had reference to arming the slaves. Instantly he was aroused. “ This will never do ! ” said he. “ Gen. Cameron must take no such responsibility. That is a ques- tion which belongs exclusively to me ! ” Then, with a pencil, he struck out the objectionable clause, and ordered measures to be taken at once to sup- press the copies already issued. This decided action created considerable excitemerrt at the time, as the President’s policy in reference to slavery had not then been indicated. In the light of subsequent history, it will be regarded as striking evidence o* * Hon. H. J. Raymond. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 137 the caution with which he felt his way on this intri- cate and momentous question. In his own language, in the letter to Col. Hodges, he objected, because the indispensable necessity had not then arrived. To Simon Cameron, however, the honor will ever belong of being the first man connected with the Administration to strike an official blow at the great cause of the war. Some time after the first battle of Bull Run, Gen- eral Patterson, who had been severely censured for his action, or want of action, on that occasion, called upon Secretary Cameron, and demanded an investi- gation of the causes of the failure of the campaign. After listening to his statement, the Secretary said that he would like the President to see the orders and correspondence, and an interview was accord- ingly arranged for the same evening. The result is given in General Patterson’s own words : — “ I called at the hour named, was most kindly received, and read the papers, to which the Presi- dent attentively listened. When I had finished, Mr. Lincoln said, in substance, 4 General, I have never found fault with you nor censured you ; I Rave never been able to see that you could have done anything else than you did do. You obeyed orders, and I am satisfied with your conduct.’ This was said with a manner so frank, candid, and manly as to secure my respect, confidence, and good-will. I expressed my gratification with and sincere thanks for his fairness toward me, and his courtesy in 138 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. hearing my case, — giving me some five hours o* his time. I said that so far as he and the War De partment were concerned I was satisfied ; but that I must have a trial by my peers, to have a public approval, and to stop the abuse daily lavished upon me. The President replied that he would cheer- fully accede to any practicable measure to do me justice, but that I need not expect to escape abuse as long as I was of any importance or value to the community ; adding that he received infinitely more abuse than I did, but that he had ceased to regard it, and I must learn to do the same.” Although the friendly relations which existed between the President and Secretary Cameron were not interrupted by the retirement of the lat- ter from the War Office, so important a change in the Administration could not of course take place without the irrepressible “story” from Mr. Lincoln. Shortly after this event some gentlemen called upon the President, and expressing much satisfac- tion at the change, intimated that in their judg- ment the interests of the country required an entire reconstruction of the Cabinet. Mr. Lincoln heard them through, and then shaking his head dubiously, replied, with his peculiar smile: “Gentlemen, when I was a young man I used to know very well one Joe Wilson, who built himself a log-cabin not far from where I lived. Joe was very fond of eggs and chickens, and he took a good deal of pains in fitting up a poultry shed. Having at length got SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUS-; 189 together a choice lot of young fowls, — of which he was very proud, — he began to be much annoyed by the depredations of those little black and white spotted animals, which it is not necessary to name. One night Joe was awakened by an unusual cack- ling and fluttering among his chickens. Getting up, he crept out to see what was going on. It was a bright moonlight night, and he soon caught sight of half a dozen of the little pests, which with their dam were running in and out of the shadow of the shed. Very wrathy, Joe put a double charge into his old musket, and thought he would ‘ clean ’ out the whole tribe at one shot. Somehow he only killed one , and the balance scampered elf across the field. In telling the story, Joe would always pause here, and hold his nose. ‘ Why did n’t you follow them up, and kill the rest ? ’ inquired the neighbors. ‘ Blast it,’ said Joe, ‘ why, it was eleven weeks before I got over killin’ one.' If you want any more skirmishing in that line you can just do it yourselves ! ’ ” XLIY. The battle of Fair Oaks was fought May 31, 1862 ; or, rather this is the date of the first of the series of battles before Richmond, when, as is now abundantly established, even by Rebel testi- mony, it would have been an easy matter for McClellan to have captured what proved to be the 140 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Sebastopol of the Rebellion. During these terri- ble battles, many of our wounded men were sent on steamboats and transports to White House landing, upon the estate of Mrs. Fitz Hugh Lee, wife of the Rebel General. Prosper M. WetmOre, of New York city, was, at this juncture, on a visit to the army. Very ill himself while on the Penin- sula, his sympathies were greatly excited for the wounded soldiers, confined, during the broiling- weather, to tire boats, compelled to quench the burning thirst created by their wounds with the muddy water of the Pamunkey, which caused and aggravated disease in a fearful manner. As a ci- vilian, he was permitted to go on shore, and there found the magnificent .lawns and grounds, including one of the finest springs of water in the world, all under a protective guard, set over the property by order of the commanding genei’al ; and, while civil- ians like himself were permitted freely to drink at the spring, the suffering soldiers were prohibited from approaching it ! Mr. W.’s indignation was so greatly aroused that, upon reaching Baltimore, on his return home, he, with two other gentlemen, cognizant of the facts, determined to go to Wash- ington and lay the case before the War Depart- ment. Upon hearing their statement, the Secre- tary of War referred them to Surgeon-Generai Hammond, saying that a requisition from him, to the effect that the grounds of the estate were needed for the wounded, would be instantly re- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 141 » sponded to by the War Department in the issue of the necessary order, taking possession. They im- mediately waited upon the' Surgeon-General, and procured the document required, upon which Sec- retary Stanton made out the order, saying, as he signed it : Now, gentlemen, you had better see the. President also about this matter, and get his indorsement of the order.” Proceeding to the Executive Mansion, they found, as usual, the waiting-rooms thronged with visitors ; but, rep- resenting to .the usher in attendance that their business was extremely urgent, and concerned the wounded of the army, they were at once shown into Mr. Lincoln’s presence. It was late in what had perhaps been a trying or vexatious day. Very briefly, but unceremoniously, the object of their visit was stated. In the language of Mr. W , The President listened to the account half impa- tiently, saying, as the speaker concluded, with an expression of countenance very like a sneer, •* This is another raid upon McClellan, I take it ! ’ ‘ Mr. President,’ was the reply, ‘ we came here to lay these facts before you solely from a sense of duty. Had I the power, sir, I would take possession of the lawns in front of this mansion for the benefit of our wounded men, so many of whom are now dying on the Pamunkey, for want of pure air and water. After the sights witnessed upon those seven steam- boats now lying at White House, I covet every spot of greensward my eyes rest upon. What I have 142 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE told you of the actual condition of things at that landing is below the truth, as the gentlemen who accompany me will confirm to your satisfaction. For myself, allow me to say, sir, that I belong to that political organization which opposed your elec- tion to the Presidency — the same organization to which General McClellan is presumed to belong. This is no raid upon him or upon you. It is simple justice to the wounded and suffering soldiers that we ask of you.’ Entirely convinced by the candor of this reply, Mr. Lincoln then proceeded to a minute questioning in regard to the scenes they had witnessed ; and when subsequently told that they had called at Secretary Stanton’s request, to secure his approval of the order issued, which em- braced only the grounds and spi’ing, ‘ Not only these,’ said he, with emphasis, ‘ but the order must include the house, and everything else which can in any way contribute to the comfort of the poor boys ! ’ And so the order was made to read before it left Washington.” There is scarcely a parallel in history to the for- bearance exhibited by the President toward Gen- eral McClellan. The incident given above is but one illustration of his impatience with those who preferred charges against the “ Commanding Gen- eral.” During the last year of his life, however, in friendly conversation, he could not refrain some- times from an impromptu sarcasm, nevertheless so blended with wit that it must, one would think, effectually disarm all resentment. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 143 About two weeks after the Chicago Convention, the Rev. J. P. Thompson, of New York, called upon the President, in company with the Assistant Secretary of War, Mr. Dana. In the course of conversation, Dr. T. said : “ What do you think, Mr. President, is the reason General McClellan does not reply to the letter from the Chicago Con- vention ? ” “ Oh ! ” replied Mr. Lincoln, with a characteristic twinkle of the eye, “ he is intrench- ing” XLV. One Saturday afternoon, when the lawn in front of the White House was crowded with people lis- tening to the weekly concert of the Marine Band, the President appeared upon the portico. Instantly there was a clapping of hands and clamor for a ^speech. Bowing his thanks, and excusing himself, .he stepped back into the retirement of the circular parlor, remarking to me, with a disappointed air, as he reclined upon the sofa, “ I wish they would let me sit out there quietly, and enjoy the music.” I stated to him on this occasion, that I believed no President, since the days of Washington, ever se- cured the heai’ts of the people, and carried them with him as he had done. To this he replied that, m such a crisis as the country was then passing through, it was natural that the people should look more earnestly to their leaders than at other periods. He thought their regard for any man in his position 144 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. who should sincerely have done his best to save the government from destruction, would have been equally as mai’ked and expressive^ to which I did not by any means assent. I do not recall an instance of Mr. Lincoln’s ever referring to any act of his administration with an appearance of complacency or self-satisfaction. I watched him closely during the political excitement previous to the Baltimore Convention, to see if I could discover signs of personal ambition, and I am free to say that, apart from the welfare of the country, there was no evidence to show to my mind that he ever thought of himself. And yet he was very sensitive to the opinions of his friends. A governor of a western State, true and loyal as the best, at a certain juncture conceived himself for some reason aggrieved by Executive action. Hav- ing occasion to send in the names of two officers for promotion, he said, jn his note to the President, that he hoped whatever feeling he might have against him personally would not prevent his doing justice to the merits of the officers in question. Mr. Lincoln had been utterly unconscious of hav- ing given offence, either by lack of appreciation or otherwise, and he seemed greatly touched at the aspersion. He said that, if he had been asked to say which of all the loyal governors had been most active and efficient in raising and equipping troops, if he had made any distinction, where all had done bo well, it would have been in favor of the gov- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 145 ernor in question. At another time, when several conflicting delegations were pressing the claims of different candidates for a position of importance, he said that lie had been so troubled about the matter that he had that day refused to see one of the candidates, an old and dear personal friend, lest his judgment should be warped. “If I was less thin-skinned about such things,” he added, “ I should oet along much better.” When he had thought profoundly, however, upon certain measures, and felt sure of his ground, criti- cism, either public or private, did not disturb him. Upon the appearance of what was known as the “ Wade and Davis manifesto,” subsequent to his renomination, an intimate friend and supporter, who was very indignant that such a document should have been put forth just previous to the presidential election, took occasion to animadvert very severely upon the course that prompted it. “ It js not worth fretting about,” said the Presi- dent ; “ it reminds me of an old acquaintance, who, having a son of a scientific turn, bought him a microscope. The boy went around, experimenting with his glass upon everything that came in his way. One day, at the dinner-table, his father took up a piece of cheese. ‘ Don't eat that, father,’ said the boy ; ‘ it is full of wrigglers.' ‘ My son,’ replied the old gentleman, taking, at the same time, a huge bite, ‘ let ’em wriggle ; I can stand it if they 10 146 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. No President ever manifested such a willingness to receive and act upon advice and suggestions from all sources, as Mr. Lincoln. On a certain occasion a leading officer of the government, and the gov- ernor of the State he represented, had each a can- didate for a high State position. The claims of both were urged with great strength. The Presi- dent was “in a strait betwixt the two.” A personal friend from the same State, to whom he mentioned the difficulty of deciding the question without giving offence to one or the other of the parties, suggested that he appoint neither of the candidates, but bestow the office upon a certain officer of the army from that State, who had distinguished himself, losing an arm or a leg in the service, but who had not solicited in any way the position. Mr. Lincoln instantly fell in with the idea, saying that it seemed to him “just the right thing to do;” and he immediately made out the nomination. • XLYI. Among the numerous visitors on one of the Pres- ident’s reception days, were a party of Congress- men, among whom was the Hon. Thomas Shannon, of California. Soon after the customary greeting, Mr. Shannon said : — “ Mr. President, I met an old friend of yours in California last summer, Thompson Campbell, who had a good deal to say of your Springfield life.” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 147 r ‘ Ah ! ” returned Mr. Lincoln, “ I am glad to hear nf him. Campbell used to be a dry .fellow,” he continued. “ For a time he was Secretary of State. One day, during the legislative vacation, a meek, cadaverous-looking man, with a white neck-cloth, introduced himself to him at his office, and, stating that he had been informed that Mr. C. had the letting of the Assembly Chamber, said that he wished to secure it, if possible, for a course of lec- tures he desired to deliver in Springfield. ‘ May I ask,’ said the Secretary, ‘ what is to be the subject of your lectures ? ’ ‘ Certainly,’ was the reply, with a very solemn expression of countenance. ‘ The course I wish to deliver, is on the Second Coming of our Lord.’ ‘ It is of no use,’ said C. ‘ If you will take my advice, you will not waste your time in this city. It is my private opinion that ifcthe Lord has been in Springfield once , He will not come the second time ! ’ ” Representative Shannon, previous to the war, had been an “ Old Hunker” Democrat. Converted by the Rebellion, he had gone to the other ex- treme, and was one of the radical Abolitionists of the Thirty-Eighth Congress. The last Sunday in May, the Rev. Dr. Cheever, of New York, deliv- ered one of his most pungent, denunciatory anti- slavery discourses, in the Hall of the House of Representatives. Among the numerous auditors at- tracted by the name of the preacher, I noticed Mr. Shannon, whose face was not often seen in church. 148 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. On the way to my hotel, we fell in together. “Well, S.,” said I, “what think you of that style of preaching?” “It was the first '■Gospel' ser- mon I ever heard in my life ! ” was the emphatic rejoinder. One of Mr. Shannon’s California colleagues, the lion. Mr. Higby, told me that having special busi- ness one evening, which called him to the White House, the President came into the office, dressed for a state dinner. In the conversation which followed, holding up his hands, encased in white gloves, he remarked, with a laugh, that one of his Illinois friends never could see his hands in that “ predicament,” without being reminded of “ can- vassed hams ! ” Mr. Lincoln was always ready to join in a laugh at tj*e expense of his person, concerning which lie was very indifferent. Many of his friends will recognize the following story, — the incident having actually occurred, — which he used to tell with great glee : — “ In the days when I used to be ‘ on the circuit,’ I was once accosted in the cars by a stranger, who said, ‘ Excuse me, sir, but I have an article in my possession which belongs to you.’ ‘How is that?’ I asked, considerably astonished. The stranger took a jack-knife from his pocket. ‘ This knife,’ said he, ‘ was placed in my hands some years ago, with the injunction that I was to keep it until I found a man uglier than myself. I have carried it SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 149 from that time to this. Allow me now to say, sir, that I think you are fairly entitled to the prop- erty.’ ” XLYII. I had been engaged in the official chamber until quite late one evening, upon some pencil studies of accessories, necessary to introduce in my pict- ure. The President, Mrs. Lincoln, and the Pri- vate Secretaries had gone to the opera, and for the time being I had undisturbed possession. Towards twelve o’clock I heard some persons enter the sleeping apartment occupied by Mr. Nicolay and Major Hay, which was directly opposite the room where I was sitting ; and shortly afterward the hearty laugh of Mr. Lincoln broke the stillness, proceeding from the same quarter. Throwing aside my work, I went across the hall to see what had occasioned this outbreak of merriment. The Sec- retaries had come in and Hay had retired ; Mr. Nicolay sat by the table with his hoots off, and the President was leaning over the “ footboard ” of the bed, laughing and talking with the hilarity of a schoolboy. It seemed that Hay, or “John,” as the President called him, had met with a singular O adventure, which was the subject of the amuse- ment. Glancing through the half-open door, Mi. Lincoln caught sight of me, and the story had to be repeated for my benefit. The incident was 150 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. trifling in itself, but the President’s enjoyment of it was very exhilarating. I never saw him in so frolicsome a mood as on this occasion. It has been well said by a critic of Shakspeare, that “ the spirit which held the woe of ‘ Lear,’ and the tragedy of ‘ Hamlet,’ ‘would have broken, had it not also had the humor of the ‘ Merry Wives of Windsor,’ and the merriment of ‘ Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ ” With equal justice can this profound truth be applied to the late President. The world has had no better illustration of it since the immortal plays were -written. Mr. .Lincoln’s “ laugh ” stood by itself. The “neigh” of a wild horse on his native prairie is not more undisguised and hearty. A group of gentle- men, among whom was his old Springfield friend and associate, Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, were one day con- versing in the passage near his office, while waiting admission. A congressional delegation had pre- ceded them, and presently an unmistakable voice was heard through the partition, in a burst of mirth. Mr. Arnold remarked, as the sound died away : “ That laugh has been the President’s life-preserver ! ” In a corner of his desk he kept a copy of the latest humorous work ; and it was his habit when greatly fatigued, annoyed, or depressed, to take this up and read a chapter, frequently with great relief. Among the callers in the course of an evening SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 151 which I well remember, was a party composed of two senators, a representative, an ex-lieutenant-gov- ernor of a western State, and several private citizens. They had business of great importance, involving the necessity of the President’s examination of volumi- nous documents. He was at this time, from an un- usual pressure of office-seekers, in addition to his other cares, literally worn out. Pushing everything aside, he sai 1 to one of the party : “ Have you seen the ‘ Nasby Papers’ ? ” “ No, I have not,” was the answer; “who is ‘Nasby?’” “There is a chap out in Ohio,” returned the President, “ who has been writing a series of letters in the newspapers over the signature of ‘ Petroleum V. Nasby.’ Some one sent me a pamphlet collection of them the other day. I am going to write to ‘ Petro- leum ’ to come down here, and I intend to tell him if he will communicate his talent to me, I will ‘ swap ’ places with him.” Thereupon he arose, went to a drawer in his desk, and, taking out the “ Letters,” sat down and read one to the company Ending in their enjoyment of it the temporary ex- citement and relief which another man would have found in a glass of wine. The instant he ceased, the book was thrown aside, his countenance relapsed into its habitual serious expression, and the business before him was entered upon with the utmost ear- nestness. During the dark days of ’62, the Hon. Mr. A-shley, of Ohio, had occasion to call at the White 152 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE House early one morning, just after news of a dis- aster. Mr. Lincoln commenced some trifling nar- ,o ration, to which the impulsive congressman was in no mood to listen. He rose to his feet and said : “ Mr. President, I did not come here this morning to hear stories ; it is too serious a time.” Instantly the smile faded from Mr. Lincoln’s face. “ Ash-, ley,” said he, “ sit down ! I respect you as an earnest, sincere man. You cannot be more anxious than I have been constantly since the beginning of the war ; and I say to you now, that were it not for this occasional vent, I should die.” XLYIII. About the first of June I received a call from the Hon. Horace Greeley, who was temporarily in Washington. Very near-sighted, his comments upon my work, then about half completed, were not particularly gratifying. He thought the steel like- nesses in his book, “ The American Conflict,” were much better. I called his attention, among other points, to a newspaper introduced in the foreground of the picture, “symbolizing,” I said, “the agency of the ‘Press’ in bringing about Emancipation ; ” — stating, at the same, time, that this accessory was studied from a copy of the “Tribune.” Upon this his face relaxed ; — “I would not object,” said he, . “ to your putting in my letter to the President on that subject.” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 153 Knowing that he had not been friendly to the renomination of Mr. Lincoln, it occurred to me, in my simplicity, that if I could bring them together, an interview might result in clearing up what was, perhaps, a mutual misunderstanding of relative positions, — though I had never known Mr. Lin- coln to mention the name of the editcr of the “ Tribune,” otherwise than with profound respect. Leaving my visitor in front of the picture, I went to the President’s office to inform him of the pres- ence of Mr. G. in the house, thinking that he might deem it best, under the circumstances, to re- ceive him below stairs. In this, however, I “ reck- oned without my host.” He looked up quickly, as I mentioned the name, but recovering himself, said, with unusual blandness: “ Please say to Mr. Gree- ley that I shall be very happy to see him, at his leisure .” I have been repeatedly asked to what extent Mr. Lincoln read the newspapers. It might have damp- ened the patriotic ardor of many ambitious editors, could they have known that their elaborate disquisi- tions, sent in such numbers to the White House, were usually appropriated by the servants, and rarelv, or never, reached the one they were preeminently intended to enlighten as to his duty and policy. I recollect of but a single instance of newspaper read- ing on the part of the President, during the entire period of my intercourse with him. One evening, having occasion to go to the Private Secretary's 154 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. office, supposing the rooms to be vacant, I came upon Mr. Lincoln, seated quietly by himself, for once engaged in looking over the contents of a journal, which he had casually taken up. The Washington dailies, — the “ Chronicle,” “Republican,” and “Star,” — were usually laid upon his table, and I think he Avas in the habit of glancing at the telegraphic reports of these ; but rarely beyond this. All war news of importance, of course, reached him previous to its publication. He had, therefore, little occasion to consult news- papers on this account. The Private Secretaries, however, usually kept him informed of the principal subjects discussed editorially in tbe leading organs of the country. The journals I became most familiar with, in the Secretaries’ quarters, besides those mentioned, Avere the Philadelphia “Press” and “North American the Baltimore “ American ” and “ Sun ; ” the New York “ Tribune,” “Evening Post,” “Independent,” “Times,” “Herald,” and “World;” the Albany “ Evening Journal ; ” tbe Boston “ Advertiser,” “Journal,” and “Transcript;” the Chicago “ Trib- une ” and “ Journal,” (the latter valued chiefly for the letters of its Avar correspondent, B. F. Taylor) ; the St. Louis “ Republican ” and “ Democrat ; ” and the Cincinnati “ Gazette ” and “ Commercial.” Violent criticism, attacks, and denunciations, com- ing either from radicals or conservatives, rarely ruffled the President, if they reached his ears. It SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 155 must liave been in connection with something of this kind, that lie once told me this story. “ Some years ago,” said he, “ a couple of ‘ emigrants,’ fresh from the ‘ Emerald Isle,’ seeking labor, were making their way toward the West. Coming suddenly, one evening, upon a pond of water, they were greeted with a grand chorus of bull-frogs, — a kind of music they had never before heard. ‘ B-a-u-m ! ’ — ‘ B-a-u-m ! ’ Overcome with ter- ror, they clutched their ‘ shillelahs,’ and crept cau- tiously forward, straining their eyes in every direc- tion, to catch a glimpse of the enemy ; but he was not to be found ! At last a happy idea seized the foremost one, — he sprang to his companion and exclaimed, ‘ And sure, Jamie ! it is my opinion it’s nothing but a “ noise ! ” ’ ” On a certain occasion, the President was induced by a committee of gentlemen to examine a newly invented “repeating” gun ; the peculiarity of which was, that it prevented the’ escape of gas. After due inspection, he said Well, I believe this really does what it is represented to do. Now have any of you heard of any machine, or invention, for pre- venting the escape of ‘ gas ’ from newspaper estab- lishments ? ” One afternoon he came into the studio, while Mrs. Secretary Welles and a party of friends were viewing the picture. Mrs. Welles said that she “understood from the newspapers that the work was nearly completed ; which appeared to be far 156 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. from the truth.” In reply, I made the common place remark, that the “ papers ” were not always “reliable.” “ That is to say, Mrs. Welles,” broke in the President, “they ‘ lie,' and then they ‘re- lie ! A t one of the “ levees,” in the winter of 1864, during a lull in the hand-shaking, Mr. Lincoln was © © 7 addressed by two lady friends, one of whom is the wife of a gentleman subsequently called into the Cabinet. Turning to them with a weary air, he remarked that it was a relief to have now and then those to talk to who had no favors to ask. The lady referred to is a radical, — a New Yorker by birth, but for many years a resident of the West. She replied, playfully, “ Mr. President, I have one request to make.” “Ah ! ” said he, at once looking grave. “ Well, what is it? ” “ That you suppress the infamous ‘Chicago Times,’ ” was the rejoinder. After a brief pause, Mr. Lincoln asked her if she nad ever tried to imagine how she would have felt, in some former administration to which she was opposed, if her favorite newspaper had been seized by the government, and suppressed. The lady replied that it was not a parallel case ; that in circumstances like those then existing, when the nation was struggling for its very life, such utter- ances as were daily put forth in that journal should be suppressed by the strong hand of authority ; that the cause of loyalty and good government demanded it. “ I fear you do not fully comprehend,” returned SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 157 the President, “ the danger of abridging the liber- ties of the people. Nothing but the very sternest necessity can ever justify it. A government had better go to the very extreme of toleration, than to do aught that could be construed into an inter- ference with* or to jeopardize in any degree, the common rights of its citizens.” XLIX. A morning or two after the visit of Mr. Greeley, 1 was called upon by a gentleman, who requested my assistance in securing a brief interview with the President, for the purpose of presenting him with an elaborate pen-and-ink “ allegorical, sym- bolic ” representation of the “ Emancipation Proc- lamation ; ” which, in a massive carved frame, had been purchased at a recent “ Sanitary Fair,” in one of the large cities, by a committee of gentle- men, expressly for this object. The composition contained a tree, representing Liberty ; a portrait of Mr. Lincoln ; soldiers, monitors, broken fetters, etc. ; together with the text of the proclamation, all executed with a pen. Artistically speaking, such works have no value, — they are simply interesting, as curiosities. Mr. Lincoln kindly accorded the desired opportunity to make the presentation, which occupied but a few moments, and was in the usual form. He accepted the testimonial, he said, not for himself, but in be- 158 SIX M0N1HS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. half of “ the cause in which all were engaged.” When the group dispersed, I remained with the President. He returned to his desk ; while I ex- amined curiously the pen work, which was exceedingly minute in detail. “ This is quite won- derful ! ” I said, at length. Mr. Lincoln looked up from his papers ; “ Yes,” he rejoined ; “ it is what I call ingenious nonsense ! ” The evening following this affair, on entering the President’s office, about eleven o’clock, I found him alone, seated at the long table, with a large pile of military commissions before him, which he was signing one by one. As I sat down beside him, he presently remarked, “ I do not, as you see, pretend to read over these documents. I see that Stanton has signed them, so I conclude they are all right.” Pausing here, he read a portion of one, beginning; with the name of the individual, “ O O ^ ' is hereby appointed adjutant-general, with the rank of captain, etc. E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War.” “There,” said he, appending his own sig- nature in the opposite corner ; “ that fixes him out.” Thus he went on chatting and writing, until he had finished the lot ; then, rising from his chair, he stretched himself, and said, “Well, I have got that job husked out-; now I guess I .will go over to the War Department before I go to bed, and see if there is any news. Walking over with him at his request, — to divert his mind, I repeated a story told me the night previous con- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 159 eerning a ‘ contraband ’ who had fallen into the hands of some good pious people, and was being taught by them to read and prav. Going off by himself one day, he was overheard to commence a prayer by the introduction of himself as “ Jim Williams — a berry good nigga’ to wash windows; ’spec’s you know me now ? ’ ” An amusing illustration of the fact that whatever the nature of an incident related to the President, it never failed to remind him of something similar, followed. After a hearty laugh at what he called this “ direct way of putting the case,” he said : “ The story that suggests to me, has no resemblance to it save in the ‘ washing windows ’ part. A lady in Philadelphia had a pet poodle dog, which mysteriously disappeared. Rewards were offered for him, and a great ado made without effect. Some weeks passed, and all hope of the favorite’s return had been given up, when a servant brought him in one day, in the filthiest condition imaginable. The lady was overjoyed to see her pet again, but horrified at his appearance. ‘ Where did you find him?’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh,’ replied the man, very unconcernedly, ‘ a negro down the street had him tied to the end of a pole, swab- bing windows.’ ” 160 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. L. A day or two previous to the meeting of the Republican Convention, the President read me liis letter to the “ Owen Lovejoy Monument Associa- tion,” — lately written, and not then published, --in which he expressed his appreciation of Mr. Lovejoy in nearly the same language I had heard him use on a former occasion. “ Throughout my heavy and perplexing responsibilities here,” ran the letter, “ to the day of his death, it would scarcely wrong any other to say he was my most generous friend. Let him have the marble monument, along with the well assured and more enduring one in the hearts of those who love liberty unselfishly for all men.” A noble tribute, in fitly chosen words ! The evening following the reading of this letter, he said that Mrs. Lincoln and he had promised half an hour to a sort of “ artist ” who wished to “exhibit” before them in the red-room below. “ What kind of an artist? ” I inquired. “ Oh, not in your line,” he answered ; “ I think he is a sort of mountebank, or comic lecturer, or something of the kind.” On my way to my own room, I met in the passage the well-known “ Jeems Pipes of Pipesville,” — otherwise Stephen Mas- sett, — whom I at once conjectured to be the indi- vidual the President had referred to. The two rooms communicating by double doors, I could not well avoid overhearing a portion of the perform- SIX MONTHS AT THE- WHITE HOUSE. 161 aiice, or more properly lecture, which I think was announced by the title of “ Drifting About.” Comic imitations of various characters were given, among; others that of a stammering man, which appeared greatly to amuse Mr. Lincoln. I could only now and then catch a word of the burlesque, but the voice and ringing laugh of the President were perfectly distinguishable. When the “lecture” ceased, Mr. Lincoln said, “I want to offer a su peared to take this more to heart than Mrs. Lin- coln, who was inclined to lay the responsibility at the door of the Secretary of War. Two or three weeks later, when tranquillity was perfectly restored, it was said that Stanton called upon the President and Mrs. Lincoln one evening at the “ Soldiers’ Home.” In the course of conver- 302 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. sation the Secretary said, playfully, “ Mrs. Lin- coln, I intend to have a full-length portrait of you painted, standing on the ramparts at Fort Stevens overlooking the fight ! ” “ That is vei’y well,” returned Mrs. Lincoln, very promptly ; “ and I can assure you of one thing, Mr. Secretary, if I had had a few ladies with me the Rebels would not have been permitted to get away as they did ! ” LXXY. It was not generally known before the publica- tion of Dr. Holland’s biography of Mr. Lincoln, that he was once engaged in a “ duel,” although a version of the affair had been published previous to his biographer’s account of it, which, however-, the few who saw it were disposed to regard as a fabrication. One evening, at the rooms of the Hon. I. N. Arnold, of Illinois, I met Dr. Henry, of Oregon, an early and intimate friend of Mr. Lincoln’s. Mr. Arnold asked me in the course of conversation if I had ever heard of the President’s “ duel ” with General Shields ? I replied that I might have seen a statement of the kind, but did not suppose it to be true. “Well,” said Mr. Arnold, “ we were all ^oung folks together at the time in Springfield. In some way a difficulty occurred between Shields and Lincoln, resulting in a challenge from Shields, which was at length accepted, Mr. Lincoln nam- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 303 ing ‘ broadswords ’ for weapons, and the two oppo- site banks of the Mississippi, where the river was about a mile wide, for the ‘ ground .’ ” Dr. Henry, who had listened quietly to this, here broke in, “ That will do for a 4 story,’ Arnold,” said he, 44 but it will hardly pass with me, for I happened to be Lincoln’s 4 second ’ on the occasion 4 The facts are these. You will bear me witness that there was never a more spirited circle of young folks in one town than lived in Springfield at that period. Shields, you remember, was a great 4 beau.' For a bit of amusement one of the young ladies wrote some verses, taking him off sarcastically, which were abstracted from her writing-desk by a mischievous friend, and published in the local newspaper. Shields, greatly irritated, posted at once to the printing-office and demanded the name of the author. Much frightened, the editor re quested a day or two to consider the matter, and upon getting rid of Shields went directly to Mr. Lincoln with his trouble. 44 4 Tell Shields,’ was the chivalric rejoinder, 4 that I hold myself responsible for the verses.’ The next day Mr. Lincoln left for a distant section to attend court. Shields, boiling over with wrath, followed and 4 challenged ’ him. Scarcely know- ing what he did, Mr. Lincoln accepted the chal- lenge, seeing no alternative. The choice of weap- ons being left to him, he named 4 broadswords,’ intending to act only on the defensive, and think- 304 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. ing his long arms would enable him to keep clear of his antagonist. “ I was then a young surgeon,” continued Dr. Henry, “ and' Mr. Lincoln desired me accompany him to the point chosen for the contest, — ‘ Bloody Island,’ in the Mississippi, near St. Louis, — as his ‘ second.’ To this I at length consented, hoping to prevent bloodshed. On our way to the ground we met Colonel Hardin, a friend of both parties, and a cousin of the lady who was the real offender. Suspecting something wrong, Hardin subsequently followed us, coming in upon the party just as Lin- coln was clearing up the underbrush which covered the ground. Entering heartily upon an attempt at pacification, he at length succeeded in mollifying Shields, and the whole party returned harmoniously to Springfield, and thus the matter ended.” This version of the affair coming from an eye- witness is undoubtedly in all respects correct. It subsequently came in my way to know that Mr. Lincoln himself regarded the circumstance with much regret and mortification, and hoped it might be forgotten. In February preceding his death a distinguished officer of the army called at the White House, and was entertained by the President and Mi’s. Lincoln for an hour in the parlor. During the conversation the gentleman said, turning to Mrs. Lincoln, “ Is it true, Mr. President, as I have heard, that you once went out to fight a 4 duel ’ for the sake of the lady by your side ? ” SEX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 305 “ I do not deny it,” replied Mr. Lincoln, with a flushed face ; “ but if you desire my friendship you will never mention the circumstance again ! ” LXXYI. In August following the rebel raid, Judge J. T. Mills, of Wisconsin, in company with ex- Governor Randall, of that State, called upon the President at the “ Soldiers’ Home.” Judge Mills subsequently published the following account of the interview, in the “ Grar - County (Wisconsin) Herald ” : — “ The Governor addressed him : ‘ Mr. President, this is my friend and your friend Mills, from Wis- consin.’ “ ‘ I am glad to see my friends from Wisconsin ; they are the hearty friends of the Union.’ “ ‘ I could not leave the city, Mr. President, without hearing words of cheer from your own lips. Upon you, as the representative of the loyal people, depend, as we believe, the existence of our govern- ment and the future of America.’ “ 4 Mr. President,’ said Governor Randall, ‘ why can't you seek seclusion, and play hermit for a fort- night ? it would reinvigorate you.’ “ 4 Aye,’ said the President, 4 two or three weeks would do me good, but I cannot fly from my thoughts ; my solicitude for this great country fol 20 306 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. lows me wherever I go. I don’t think it is personal vanity or ambition, though I am not free from these infirmities, but I cannot but feel that the weal or woe of this great nation will be decided in Novem- ber. There is no programme offered by any wing of the Democratic party but that must result in the permanent destruction of the Union.’ “ ‘ But Mr. President, General McClellan is in favor of crushing out the rebellion by force. He will be the Chicago candidate.’ “ ‘ Sir,’ said the President, ‘ the slightest knowl- edge of arithmetic will provS to any man that the rebel armies cannot be destroyed by democratic strategy. It would sacrifice all the white men of the North to do it. There are now in the service of the United States near two hundred thousand able-bodied colored men, most of them under arms, defending and acquiring Union territory. The democratic strategy demands that these forces should be disbanded, and that the masters be conciliated by restoring them to slavery. The black men who now assist Union prisoners to escape are to be converted into our enemies, in the vain hope of gaining the good-will of their masters. We shall have to fight two nations instead of one. “ ‘ You cannot conciliate the South if you guar- antee to them id ti mate success ; and the experience of the present war proves their success is inevitable if you fling the compulsory labor of millions of black men into their side of the scale. Will you give SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 307 our enemies such military advantages as insure suc- cess, and then depend on coaxing, flattery, and con- cession, to get them back into the Union ? Aban- don all the posts now garrisoned by black men ; take two hundred thousand men from our side and put them in the battle-field or cornfield against us, and we would be compelled to abandon the war in three weeks. “ ‘We have to hold territory in inclement and sickly places ; where are the Democrats to do this ? It was a free fight, and the field was open to the War Democrats to put down this rebellion by fight- ing against both master and slave long before the present policy was inaugurated. “ ‘ There have been men base enough to propose to me to return to slavery the black warriors of Port Hudson and Olustee, and thus win the respect of the masters they fought. Should I do so, I should deserve to be damned in time and eternity. Come what will, I will keep my faith with friend and foe. My enemies pretend I am now canying on this war for the sole purpose of Abolition. So long as I am President, it shall be carried on for the sole purpose of restoring the Union. But no human power can subdue this rebellion without the use of the emanci- pation policy, and every other policy calculated to weaken the moral and physical forces of the rebel- lion. “ ‘ Freedom has given us two hundred thousand O men raised on Southern soil. It will give us more 308 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. yet. Just so much it has subtracted from the en- emy, and instead of alienating the South, there are now evidences of a fraternal feeling growing up be- tween our men and the rank and file of the rebel soldiers. Let my enemies prove to the country that the destruction of slavery is not necessary to a restoration of the Union. I will abide the issue.’ “ I saw that the President was a man of deep convictions, of abiding faith in justice, truth, and Providence. His voice was pleasant, his manner earnest and emphatic. As he warmed with his theme, his mind grew to the magnitude of his body. I felt I was in the presence of the great guiding in- tellect of the age, and that those ‘ huge Atlantean shoulders were fit to bear the weight of mightiest monarchies.’ His transparent honesty, republican simplicity, his gushing sympathy for those who of- fered their lives for their country, his utter forget- fulness of self in his concern for its welfare, could not but inspire me with confidence that he was Heaven’s instrument to conduct his people through this sea of blood to a Canaan of peace and freedom.” LXXVH. No reminiscence of the late President has been given to the public more thoroughly valuable and characteristic than a sketch which appeared in the New York “ Independent ” of September 1st, 1864, SIS MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 309 from the pen of the Rev. J. P. Gulliver, of Nor- wich, Connecticut : — “ It was just after his controversy with Douglas, and some months before the meeting of the Chicago Convention of 1860, that Mr. Lincoln came to Norwich to make a political speech. It was in substance the famous speech delivered in New York, commencing with the noble words : ‘ There is but one political question before the people of this country, which is this, Is slavery right , or is it wrong ? ’ and ending with the yet nobler words : ‘ Gentlemen, it has been said of the world’s history hitherto that “ might makes right ; ” it is for us and for our times to reverse the maxim, and to show that right makes viight ! \ 44 The next morning I met him at the railroad station, where he was conversing with our Mayor, every few minutes looking up the track and inquir- ing, half impatiently and half quizzically, ‘ Where ’s that ‘ wagon ’ of yours ? Why don’t the 4 wagon ’ come along ? ’ On being introduced to him, he fixed his eyes upon me, and said : 4 1 have seen you before, sir ! ’ 4 1 think not,’ I replied ; 4 you must mistake me for some other person.’ 4 No, I don’t ; I saw you at the Town Hall, last evening.’ 4 Is it possible, Mr. Lincoln, that you could observe indi- viduals so closely in such a crowd ? ’ 4 Oh, yes ! ’ he replied, laughing ; 4 that is my way. I don’t forget faces. Were you not there ?’ 4 1 was, sir, and I was well paid for going ; ’ adding, somewhat 310 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. in the vein of pleasantry he had started, ‘ I con- sider it one of the most extraordinary speeches I ever heard.’ 44 As- we entered the cars, he beckoned me to take a seat with him, and said, in a most agreeably frank way, ‘ Were you sincere in what you said about my speech just now?’ ‘I meant every word of it, Mr. Lincoln. Why, an old dyed-in- the-wool Democrat, who sat near me, applauded you repeatedly ; and, when rallied upon his con- version to sound principles, answered, 44 I don’t be- lieve a word he says, but I can’t help clapping him, he is so pat!” That I call the triumph of oratory, — “ When you convince a man against his will, Though he is of the same opinion still.” Indeed, sir, I learned more of the art of public speaking last evening than I could from a whole course of lectures on Rhetoric.’ “ ‘ Ah ! that reminds me,’ said he, ‘ of a most extraordinary circumstance which occurred in New Haven the other day. They told me that the Pro- fessor of Rhetoric in Yale College, — a very learned man, is n’t he ? ’ “ 4 Yes, sir, and a fine critic too.’ 44 4 Well, I suppose so; he ought to be, at any rate, — they told me that he came to hear me, and took notes of my speech, and gave a lecture on it to his class the next day ; and, not satisfied with that, he followed me up to Meriden the next even- SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 311 ing, and heard me again for the same purpose. Now, if this is so, it is to my mind very extraordi- nary. I have been sufficiently astonished at my success in the West. It has been most unexpected. But I had no thought of any marked success at the East, and least of all that I should draw out suen commendations from literary and learned men. Now,’ he continued, 4 I should like very much to know what it was in my speech you thought so remarkable, and what you suppose interested my friend, the Professor, so much.’ “ ‘ The clearness of your statements, Mr. Lin- coln ; the unanswerable style of your reasoning, and especially your illustrations, which were ro- mance and pathos, and fun and logic all welded together. That story about the snakes, for ex- ample, which set the hands and feet of your Dem- ocratic hearers in such vigorous motion, was at once queer and comical, and tragic and argumentative. It broke through all the barriers of a man’s previ- ous opinions and prejudices at a crash, and blew up the very citadel of his false theories before he could know what had hurt him.’ 44 4 Can you remember any other illustrations,’ said he, 4 of this peculiarity of my style ? ’ 44 1 gave him others of the same sort, occupying some half-hour in the critique, when he said : 4 I am much obliged to you for this. I have been wishing for a long time to find some one who would make this analysis for me. It throws light on a 312 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. subject which has been dark to me. I can under- stand very readily how such a power as you have ascribed to me will account for the effect which seems to he produced by my speeches. I hope you have not been too flattering in your estimate. Cer- tainly, I have had a most wonderful success, for a man of my limited education.’ “ ‘ That suggests, Mr. Lincoln, an inquiry which has several times been upon my lips during this conversation. I want very much to know how you got this unusual power of “putting things.” It must have been a matter of education. No man has it by nature alone. What has your education been ? ’ “ ‘ Well, as tq education, the.newspapers are cor- rect ; I never went to school more than six months in my life. But, as you say, this must be a product of culture in some form. I have been putting the question you 'ask me to myself, while you have been talking. I can say this, that among my ear- liest recollections I remember how, when a mere child, I used to get irritated when any body talked to me in a way I could not understand. I don’t think I ever got angry at anything else in my life. But that always disturbed my temper, and has ever since. I can remember going to my little bed- room, after hearing the neighbors talk of an even- ing with my father, and spending no small part of the night walking up and down, and trying to make out what was the exact meaning of some of SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 313 their, to me, dark sayings. I could not sleep, though I often tried to, when I got on such a hunt after an idea, until I had caught it ; and when I thought I had. got it, I was not satisfied until I had repeated it over and over, until I had put it in language plain enough, as I thought, for any boy I knew to comprehend. "This was a kind of pas- sion with me, and it has stuck by me ; for I am never easy now, Avhen-I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it North, and bounded it South, and bounded it East, and bounded it West. Perhaps that accounts for the characteristic you observe in my speeches, though I never put the two things together before.’ “ ‘ Mr. Lincoln, I thank you for this. It is the most splendid educational fact I ever happened upon. This is genius , with all its impulsive, in- spiring, dominating power over the mind of its possessor, developed by education into talent , with its uniformity, its permanence, and its disciplined strength, — always ready, always available, never capricious, — the highest possession of the human intellect. But, let me ask, did you prepare for your profession ? ’ “ ‘ Oh, yes ! I “ read law,” as the phrase is that is, I became a lawyer’s clerk in Springfield, and copied tedious documents, and picked up what I could of law in the intervals of other work. But your question reminds me of a bit of education I had, which I am bound in honesty to mention. In 814 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. the course of my law-reading, I constantly came upon the word demonstrate. I thought at first that I understood its meaning, but soon became satisfied that I did not. I said to myself, “ What do I mean when I demonstrate more than when I reason or prove ? How does demonstration differ from any other proof? ” I consulted Webster’s Dictionary. That told of “ certain proof,” “ proof beyond the possibility of doubt ; ” but^I could form no idea what sort of proof that was. I thought a great many things were proved beyond a possibility of doubt, without recourse to any such extraordinary process of reasoning as I understood “ demonstra- tion ” to be. I consulted all the dictionaries and books of reference I could find, but with no better results. You might as well have defined blue to a blind man. At last I said, “ Lincoln, you can never make a lawyer if you do not understand what demonstrate means ; ” and I left my situation in Springfield, went home to my father’s house, and stayed there till I could give any proposition in the six books of Euclid at sight. I then found out what “ demonstrate ” means, and went back to my law-studies.’ “ I could not refrain from saying, in my admira- tion at such a development of character and ger.ius combined : ‘Mr. Lincoln, your success is no longer a marvel. It is the. legitimate result of adequate causes. You deserve it all, and a great deal more. If you will permit me, I would like to use this fact SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 315 publicly. It will be most valuable in inciting our young men to that patient classical and mathemat- ical culture which most minds absolutely require. No man can talk well unless he is able first of all to define to himself what he is talking about. Eu- clid, well studied, would free the world of half its calamities, by banishing half the nonsense which now deludes and curses it. I have often thought that Euclid would b#' one of the best books to put on the catalogue of the Tract Society, if they could only get people to read it. It would be a means of grace.’ “‘I think so,’ said he, laughing; ‘I vote for Euclid.’ “ Just then a gentleman entered the car who was well known as a very ardent friend of Douglas. Beino; a little curious to see how Mr. Lincoln would meet him, I introduced him after this fashion : — ‘ Mr. Lincoln, allow me to introduce Mr. L , a very particular friend of your particular friend, Mr. Douglas.’ He at once took his hand in a most cordial manner, saying : ‘ I have no doubt you think you are right, sir.’ This hearty tribute to the honesty of a political opponent, with the man- ner of doing it, struck me as a beautiful exhibition of a large-hearted charity, of which we see far too little in this debating, fermenting world. “ As we neared the end of our journey, Mr. Lin* coin turned to me very pleasantly, and said : ‘ 1 want to thank you for this conversation. I have 316 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. enjoyed it very much.’ I replied, referring to some stalwart denunciations he had just been uttering of the demoralizing influences of Washington upon Northern politicians in respect to the slavery ques- tion, ‘ Mr. Lincoln, may I say one thing to you before we separate ? ’ “ £ Certainly, anything you please.’ “ ‘ You have just spoken of the tendency of po- litical life in Washington to debase the moral con- victions of our representatives there by the admixt- ure of considerations of mere political expediency. You have become, by the controversy with Mr. Douglas, one of our leaders in this great struggle with slavery, which is undoubtedly the struggle of the nation and the age. What I would like to say is this, and I say it with a full heart, Be true to your •principles and we will he true to you , and Giod will he true to us all ! ’ His homely face lighted up instantly with a beaming expression, and taking my hand warmly in both of his, he said : ‘ I say Amen to that • — Amen to that ! ’ “ There is a deep excavation in the rock shown to visitors, among the White Mountains, into which one of the purest of the mountain streams pours itself, known as ‘ The Pool.’ As you stand by its side at an ordinary time you look down upon a mass of impenetrable green, lying like a rich em- erald in a setting of granite upon the bosom of the mountain. But occasionally the noon-day sun darts through it a vertical ray which penetrates to its SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 317 very bottom, and shows every configuration of the varied interior. I felt at that moment that a ray had darted down to the bottom of Abraham Lin- coln’s heart, and that I could see the whole. It seemed to me as beautiful as that emei’ald pool, and as pure. I have never forgotten that glimpse. When the strange revocation came of the most rational and reasonable proclamation of Fremont, — ‘ The slaves of Rebels shall be set free,’ — I remem- bered that hearty ‘ Amen,’ and stifled my rising apprehensions. I remembered it in those dark days when McClellan, Nero-like, was fiddling on James River, and Pope was being routed before Washington, and the report came that a prominent Cabinet Minister had boasted that he had succeeded in preventing the issue of the Emancipation Proc- lamation ; I said : ‘ Abraham Lincoln will prove true yet.’ And he has ! God bless him ! he has. Slow, if you please, but true. Unimpassioned, if you please, but true. Jocose, trifling, if you please, but true. Reluctant to part with unworthy official advisers, but true himself — true as steel ! I could wish him less a man of facts, and more a man of ideas. I could wish him more stern and more vig- orous : but every man has his faults, and still I say : Amen to Abraham Lincoln ! ” * * This article was written and first published some months previous to Mr. Lincoln’s reelection, during the depression of the public mind following the “raid ” on Washington. 318 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. LXXVHI. The Hon. Orlando Kellogg, of New York, was sitting in his room at his boarding-house one even- ing, when one of his constituents appeared, — a white-headed old man, — who had come to Wash- ington in great trouble, to seek the aid of his repre- sentative in behalf of his son. His story was this : “ The young man had formerly been very dissi- pated. During an absence from home a year or two previous to the war, he enlisted in the regular army, and, after serving six months, deserted. Re turning to his father, who knew nothing of this, he reformed his habits, and when the war broke out, entered heart and soul into the object of rais- ing a regiment in his native county, and was sub- sequently elected one of its officers. He had proved an efficient officer, distinguishing himself particu- larly on one occasion, in a charge across a bridge, when he was severely wounded, — his colonel being killed by his side. Shortly after this, he came in contact with one of his old companions in the ‘ regular ’ service, who l’ecognized him, and declared his purpose of informing against him. Overwhelmed with mortification, the young man procured a furlough and returned home, revealing the matter to his father, and declaring his purpose never to submit to an arrest, — ‘ he would die first.’ ” In broken tones the old man finished his statement, saying : “ Can you do anything for us, SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 319 Judge ? — it is a hard, hard case ! ” “I will see about that,” replied the representative, putting on his hat ; “ wait here until I return.” He went immediately to the White House, and fortunately finding Mr. Lincoln alone, they sat down together, and he repeated the old man’s story. The Piesh dent made no demonstration of particular inteiesl until the Judge reached the description of the charge across .the bridge, and the wound received. “ Do you say,” he interrupted, “ that the young man was wounded?” “Yes,” replied the con- gressman, “ badly.” “Then he has shed his blood for his country,” responded Mr. Lincoln, musingly. “ Kellogg,” he continued, brightening up, “ is n’t there something in Scripture about the ‘ shedding of blood ’ being ‘ the remission of sins ? ’ ” “ Guess you are about right there,” replied the Judge. “ It is a good ‘ point,’ and there is no going behind it,” rejoined the President; and taking up his pen, another “ pardon ” — this time without “ oath,” condition, or reserve — was added to the records of the War Office. Among a large number of persons waiting in the room to speak with Mr. Lincoln, on a certain day in November, ’64, Avas a small, pale, delicate* looking boy about thirteen years old. The Presi- dent saw him standing, looking feeble and faint, and said : ‘ Come here, my boy, and tell me what you want.’ The boy advanced, placed his hand on the arm of the President’s chair, and with bowed 320 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. head and timid accents said : ‘ Mr. President, I have been a drummer in a regiment for two years, and my colonel got angry with me and turned me off. I was taken sick, and have been a long time in hospital. This is the first time I have been out, and I came to see if you could not do something for me.’ The President looked at him kindly and tenderly, and asked him where he lived. ‘ I have no home,’ answered the boy. ‘ Where is your father ? ’ ‘ He died in the army,’ was the reply. ‘ Where is your mother ? ’ continued the President. ‘ My mother is dead also. I have no mother, no father, no brothers, no sisters, and,’ bursting into tears, ‘no friends — nobody cares for me.’ Mr. Lincoln’s eyes filled with tears, and he said to him, ‘ Can’t you sell newspapers ? ’ ‘No,’ said the boy, ‘ I am too weak ; and the surgeon of the hospital told me I must leave, and I have no money, and no place to go to.’ The scene was wonderfully affect- ing. The President drew forth a card, and ad- dressing on it certain officials to whom Ills' request was law, gave special directions ‘ to care for this poor boy.’ The wan face of the little drummer lit up with a happy smile as he received the paper, and he went away convinced that he had one good and true friend, at least, in the person of the President.” * No incident of this character related of the late President, is more profoundly touching in its ten- * Rev. Mr. Henderson, Louisville, Ky. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 32 i derness and simplicity than that given to me the last evening I passed at the White House, in the office of the private secretary, by a resident of Washington,* who witnessed the scene. “ I was waiting my turn to speak to the Presi- dent one day, some three or four weeks since,” said Mr. M , “ when my attention was at- tracted by the sad patient face of a woman ad- vanced in life, who in a faded hood and shawl was among the applicants for an interview. “ Presently Mr. Lincoln turned to her, saying in his accustomed manner, ‘ Well, my good woman, what can I do for you this morning ? ’ ‘ Mr. President,’ said she, ‘ my husband and three sons all went into the arffiy. My husband was killed in the fight at . I get along very badly since then, living all alone, and I thought I would come and ask you to release to me my oldest son.’ Mr. Lincoln looked into her face a moment, and in his kindest accents responded, ‘ Certainly ! cer- p, tainly ! If you have given us all , and your prop has been taken away, you are justly en- titled to one of your boys ! ’ He immediately made out an order discharging the young man, which the woman took, and thanking him orate- fully, went away. “ I had forgotten the circumstance,” continued M , “till last week, when happening to be here again, who should come in but the same * Mr. Murtagh. of the W . shingtm Republican. 21 322 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. woman. It appeared that she had gone herself to the front, with the President’s order, and found the son she was in search of had been mortally wounded in a recent engagement, and taken to a hospital. She found the hospital, but the boy was dead, or died while she was there. The surgeon in charge made a memorandum of the facts upon the back of the President’s order, and almost broken-hearted, the poor woman had found her way again into Mr. Lincoln’s presence. He was much affected by her appearance and story, and said : ‘ I know what you wish ire to do now, and I shall do it without your asking ; 1 shall release to you your second son.’ Upon this, he took up his pen and commenced writing the order. While he was writing the poor woman stood by his side, the tears running down her face, and passed her hand softly over his head, stroking his rough hair, as I have seen a fond mother caress a son. By the time he had finished writing, his own heart and eyes were full. He handed her the paper : ‘ Now,’ said he, ‘ you have one and I one of the other two left : that is no more than right.’ She took the paper, and reverently placing her hand again upon his head, the tears still upon her cheeks, said : ‘ The Lord bless you, Mr. Lincoln. May you live a thousand years, and may you always be the head of this great nation ! ’” SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 323 LXXIX. The Hon. W. H. Herndon, of Springfield, Illi- nois, for more than twenty years the law-partner of Mr. Lincoln, delivered an address in that city, De- cember 12th, 1865, upon the life and character of the lamented President, which, for masterly analy- sis, has scarcely an equal in the annals of biograph- ical literature. Quaint and original in style and construction, this description — an imperfect ab- stract of which I subjoin — is in singular harmony with the character it depicts. To those who knew Mr. Lincoln personally, so thorough a dissection of his nature and traits will need no indorsement ; while to the multitude who knew him not, it may be commended as probably more complete and ex- haustive in its treatment of the subject, than any- thing which has been given to the world. “ Abraham Lincoln was born in Hardin County, Kentucky, February 12th, 1809. He moved to Indiana in 1816 ; came to Illinois in March, 1830 ; to old Sangamon County in 1831, settling in New Salem, and from this last place to this city in April, 1837 : coming as a rude, uncultivated boy, without polish or education, and having no friends. He was about six feet four inches high, and when he — — * — ■ — - . _ - _ . © 7 left this city was fifty-one years old, having good health and no gray hairs, or but few on his head. He was thin, wiry, sinewy, raw-boned ; thin through the breast to the back, and narrow across the shoul- 824 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. ders ; standing, lie leaned forward — was what may be called stoop-shouldered, inclining to the consump- tive by build. His usual weight was one hundred and sixty pounds. His organization — rather his structure and functions — worked slowly. His blood had to run a long distance from his heart to the ex- tremities of his frame, and his nerve-force had to travel through dry ground a long distance before his muscles were obedient to his will. His structure was loose and leathery ; his body was shrunk and shrivelled, having dark skin, dark hair, — looking woe-struck. The whole man, body and mind, worked slowly, creakingly, as if it needed oiling. Physically, he was a very powerful man, lifting with ease four hundred or six hundred pounds. His mind was like his body, and worked slowly but strongly. When he walked, he moved cautiously but firmly, his long arms and hands on them, hang- ing like giant’s hands, swung down by his side. He walked with even tread, the inner sides of his feet being parallel. He put the whole foot flat down on the ground at once, not landing on the heel ; he like- wise lifted his foot all at once, not rising from the toe, and hence he had no spring to his walk. He had economy of fall and lift of foot, though he had no spring or apparent ease of motion in his tread. He walked undulatory, up and down, catching and pocketing tire, weariness, and pain, all up and down his person, preventing them from locating. The first opinion of a stranger, or a man who did not SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE' HOUSE. 32 ' observe closely, was that his walk implied shrewd- ness, cunning, — a tricky man ; but his was the walk of caution and firmness. In sitting down on a common chair he was no taller than ordinary men. His legs and arms were, abnormally, unnaturally long, an:l in undue proportion to the balance of his body. It was only when he stood up that he loomed above other men. “ M r. Lincoln’s head was long and tall from the base of the brain and from the eyebrows. His head ran backwards, his forehead rising as it ran back at a low angle, like Clay’s, and, unlike Web- ster’s, almost perpendicular. The size of his hat, measured at the hatter’s block, was 7|, his head being, from ear to ear, inches, and from the front to the back of the brain 8 inches. Thus measured, it was not below the medium size. His forehead was narrow but high ; his hair was dark, almost black, and lay floating where his fingers or the winds left it, piled up at random. His cheek-bones were high, sharp, and prominent ; his eyebrows heavy and prominent ; his jaws wei'e long, up- curved, and heavy ; his nose was large, long, and blunt, a little awry towards the right eye ; his chin was long, sharp, and upeurved ; his eyebrows cropped out like a huge rock oh the brow of a hill ; his face was long, sallow, and cadaverous, shrunk, shrivelled, wrinkled, and dry, having here and there a hair on the surface ; his cheeks were leathery ; his ears were large, and ran out almost at right an- 326 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. gles from his head, caused partly by heavy hats and partly by nature ; his lower lip was thick, hanging, and undercurved, while his chin reached for the lip upcurved : his neck was neat and trim, his head being well balanced on it ; there was the lone mole on the right cheek, and Adam’s apple on his throat. “ Thus stood, walked, acted, and looked Abraham Lincoln. He was not a pretty man by any means, nor was he an ugly one ; he was a homely man, careless of his looks, plain-looking and plain-acting. He had no pomp, display, or dignity, so-called. He appeared simple in his carriage and bearing. He was a sad-looking man ; his melancholy dripped from him as he walked. His apparent gloom im- pressed his friends, and created a sympathy for him, — one means of his great success. He was gloomy, abstracted, and joyous, — rather humorous, — by turns. I do not think he knew what real joy was for many years. “ Mr. Lincoln sometimes walked our streets cheerily, — good - humoredly, perhaps joyously, — and then it was, on meeting a friend, he cried 4 How d’ y ? ’ clasping one of his friend’s hands in both of his, giving a good hearty soul-welcome. Of a win- ter’s morning, he might be seen stalking and stilt- ing it towards the market-house, basket on arm, his old gray shawl wrapped around his neck, his little Willie or Tad running along at his heels, asking a thousand little quick questions, which his father heard not, not even then knowing that little Willie SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 327 or Tad was there, so abstracted was he. When he thus met a friend, he said that something put him in mind of a story which he heard in Indiana or elsewhere, and tell it he would, and there w’as no alternative but to listen. . “ Thus, I say, stood and walked and looked this singular man. He was odd, but when that gray eye and face and every feature were lit up by the inward soul in fires of emotion, then it was that all these apparently ugly features sprang into organs of beauty, or sunk themselves into a sea of inspira- tion that sometimes flooded his face. Sometimes it appeared to me that Lincoln’s soul was just fresh from the presence of its Creator. “ I have asked the friends and foes of Mr. Lin- coln alike, what they thought of his perceptions. One gentleman of undoubted ability and free from all partiality or prejudice, said, ‘ Mr. Lincoln’s per- ceptions are slow, a little perverted, if not some- what distorted and diseased.’ If the meaning of this is that Mr. Lincoln saw things from a peculiar angle of his being, and from this was susceptible to Nature’s impulses, and that he so expressed him- self, then I have no objection to what is said. Other- wise, I dissent. Mr. Lincoln’s pei’ceptions were slow, cold, precise, and exact. Everything came to him in its precise shape and color. To some men the world of matter and of man comes ornamented with beauty, life, and action, and hence more or less 8J8 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. false and inexact. No lurking illusion or other error, false in itself, and clad for the moment in robes of splendor, ever passed undetected or un- challenged over the threshold of his mind, — that point that divides vision from the realm and home of thought. Names to him were nothing, and titles naught, — assumption always standing back abashed at his cold, intellectual glare. Neither his percep- tions nor intellectual vision were perverted, distorted, or diseased. He saw all things through a perfect mental lens. There was no diffraction or refraction there. He was not impulsive, fanciful, or imagina- tive, but cold, calm, precise, and exact. He threw his whole mental light around the object, and in time, substance, and quality stood apart ; form and color took their appropriate places, and all was clear and exact in his mind. His fault, if any, was that he saw things less than they really were ; less beau- tiful and more frigid. In his mental view he crushed the unreal, the inexact, the hollow, and the sham. He saw things in rigidity rather than in vital action. Here was his fault. He saw what no man could dispute ; but he failed to see what might have been seen. To some minds the world is all life, a soul beneath the material ; but to Mr. Lincoln no life was individual or universal that did not manifest it- self to him. His mind was his standard. His per- ceptions were cool, persistent, pitiless in pursuit of the truth. No error went undetected, and no false- hood unexposed, if he once was aroused in search SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 320 of truth. If his perceptions were perverted, dis- torted, and diseased, would to Heaven that more minds were so. “ The true peculiarity of Mr. Lincoln has not been seen by his various biographers ; or, if seen, they have failed wofully to give it that prominence which it deserves. It is said that Newton saw an apple fall to the ground from a tree, and beheld the law of the universe in that fall ; Shakspeare saw human nature in the laugh of a man ; Professor Owen Saw the animal in its claw ; and Spencer saw the evolu- tion of the universe in the growth of a seed. Na- ture was suggestive to all these men. Mr. Lincoln no less saw philosophy in a story, and a schoolmas- ter in a joke. No man, no men, saw nature, fact, thing, or man from his stand-point. His was a new and original position, which was always suggesting, hinting something to him. Nature, insinuations, hints, and suggestions were new, fresh, original, and odd to him. The world, fact, man, principle, all had their powers of suggestion to his susceptible soul. They continually put him in mind of some- thing. He was odd, fresh, new, original, and pe* culiar for this reason, that lie was a new, odd, and original creation and fact. He had keen suscepti- bilities to the hints and suggestions of nature, which always put him in mind of something known or mknown. Hence- his power and tenacity ot what is called association of ideas must have been great. 330 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. His memory was tenacious and strong. His sus- ceptibility to all suggestions and hints enabled him at will to call up readily the associated and classified fact and idea. “As an evidence of this, especially peculiar to Mr. Lincoln, let me ask one question. Were Mr. Lin- coln’s expression and language odd and original, standing out peculiar from those of all other men ? What does this imply ? Oddity and originality of vision as well as expression ; and what is expression in words and human language, but a telling of what we see, defining the idea arising from and created by vision and view in us. Words and language are but the counterparts of the idea, — the other half of the idea ; they are but the stinging, hot, heavy, leaden bullets that drop from the mould ; and what are they in a rifle with powder stuffed behind them and fire applied, but an embodied force pursuing their object. So are words an embodied power feeling for comprehension in other minds. Mr. Lincoln was often perplexed to give expression to his ideas : first, because he was not master of the English language ; and, secondly, because there were no words in it containing the coloring, shape, exactness, power, and gravity of his ideas. He was frequently at a loss for a word, and hence was compelled to resort to stories, maxims, and jokes to embody his idea, that it might be comprehended. So true was this peculiar mental vision of his, that though mankind has been gathering, arranging, and SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 331 classifying facts for thousands of years, Lincoln’s peculiar stand-point could give him no advantage of other men’s labor. Hence he tore up to the deep foundations all arrangements of facts, and coined and arranged new plans to govern himself. He was compelled, from his peculiar mental organi- zation, to do this. His labor was great, continuous, patient, and all-enduring. The truth about this whole matter is that Mr. Lincoln read less and thought more than any man in his sphere in America. No man can put his finger on any great book written in the last or pres- ent century that he read. When young he read the Bible, and when of age he read Shakspeare. This latter book was scarcely ever out of his mind. Mr. Lincoln is acknowledged to have been a great man, but the question is what made him great. I repeat, that he read less and thought more than any man of his standing in America, if not in the world. He possessed originality and power of thought in an eminent degree. He was cautious, cool, con- centrated, with continuity of reflection ; was patient and enduring. These are some of the grounds of his wonderful success. “Not only was nature, man, fact, and principle suggestive to Mr. Lincoln, not only had he accurate and exact perceptions, but he was causative, i. e., his mind ran back behind all facts, things, and prin- ciples to their origin, history, and first cause, — tc that point where forces act at once as effect and 332 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. cause. He would stop and stand in the street and analyze a machine. He would whittle things to a point, and then count the numberless inclined planes, and their pitch, making the point. Mas- tering and defining this, he would then cut that point back, and get a broad transverse section of his pine stick, and peel and define that. Clocks, omnibuses, and language, paddle-wheels, and idioms, never escaped his observation and analysis. Before he could form any idea of anything, before he would express his opinion on any subject, he must know it in origin and history, in substance and quality, in magnitude and gravity. He must know his subject inside and outside, upside and downside. He searched his own mind and nature thoroughly, as I have often heard him say. He must analyze a sen- sation, an idea, and words, and ran them back to their origin, history, purpose, and destiny. He was most emphatically a remorseless analyzer of facts, things, and principles. When all these processes had been well and thoroughly gone through, he could form an opinion and express it, but no sooner. He had no faith. ‘ Say so’s ’ he had no respect for, coming though they might from tradition, power, or authority. “ All things, facts, and principles had to run through his crucible and be tested by the fires of his analytic mind ; and hence, when he did speak his utterances rang out gold-like, quick, keen, and cur- rent upon the counters of the understanding. H6 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 333 reasoned logically, through analogy and comparison. All opponents dreaded him in his originality of idea, condensation, definition, and force of expression, and woe be to the man who hugged to his bosom a secret error if Mr. Lincoln got on the chase of it. I say, woe to him ! Time could hide the error in no nook or corner of space in which he would not detect and expose it. “ Though Mr. Lincoln had accurate perceptions, though nature was extremely suggestive to him, though he was a profound thinker as well as ana- lyzer, still his judgments and opinions formed upon minor matters were often childish. I have some- times asked prominent, talented, and honest men in this and other States for their manly opinion of Mr. Lincoln’s judgments. I did this to confirm or overthrow my own opinions on this point. Their answers were that his judgments were poor. But now what do we understand by the word ‘judg- ments ? ’ It is not reason, it is not will, nor is it understanding ; but it is the judging faculty, — that capacity or power that forms opinions and decides on the fitness, beauty, harmony, and appropriateness of things under all circumstances and surroundings, quickly, wisely, accurately. Had Mr. Lincoln this quality of mind ? I think not. His mind was like nis body, and worked slowly. “ One portion of mankind maintained that Mr. 334 SIX MONTHS _AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Lincoln was weak-minded, and they look at him only from the stand-point of his judgments. An- other class maintain that he was a great, deep, pro- found man in his judgments. Do these two classes understand themselves ? Both views .cannot be correct. Mr. Lincoln’s mind was slow, angular, and ponderous, rather than quick and finely discriminat- ing, and in time his great powers of reason on cause and effect, on creation and relation, on substance and on truth, would form a proposition, an opinion wisely and well, — that no human being can deny. When his mind could not grasp premises from which to argue he was weaker than a child, be- cause he had none of the child’s intuitions, — the soul’s quick, bright flash over scattered and unar- ranged facts. “ Mr. Lincoln was a peculiar man, having a pe- culiar mind ; he was gifted with a peculiarity, namely, a. new lookout on nature. Everything had to be newly created for him, — facts newly gath- ered, newly arranged, and newly classed. He had no faith, as already expressed. In order to believe he must see and feel, and thrust his hand into the place. He must taste, smell, and handle before he had faith, i. e., belief. Such a mind as this must act slowty, — must have its time. His forte and power lay in his love of digging out for himself and hunting up for his own mind its own food, to be assimilatexl unto itself ; and then in time he could * and would form opinions and conclusions that no SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. human power could overthrow. They were as irresistible as iron thunder, as powerful as logic embodied in mathematics. “ I have watched men closely in reference to their approaches to Mr. Lincoln. Those who ap- proached him on his judgment side treated him ten- derly — sometimes respectfully, but always as a weak-minded man. This class of men take the judgment as the standard of the mind. I have seen another class approach him on his reason-side, and they always crouched low down and truckled, as much as to say, ‘great,’ ‘grand,’ ‘omnipotent.’ Both these classes were correct. One took judgment as the standard of the man, and the other took rea- son. Yet both classes were wrong in this, — they sunk out of view one side of Mr. Lincoln. A third class knew him we#l, and always treated him with human respect : not that awe and reverence with which we regard the Supreme Being ; not that supercilious haughtiness which greatness shows to littleness. Each will please to examine itself, and then judge of what I say. I have approached Mr. Lincoln on all sides, and treated him according to the angle approached. “ An additional question naturally suggests itself here, and it is this : Had Mr. Lincoln great, good common sense ? Different persons, of equal capac- ity and honesty, hold different views on this ques- tion, — one class answering in the affirmative, and the other in the negative. 336 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. These various opinions necessarily spring out of the question just discussed. If the true test is that a man shall quickly, wisely, and well judge the rapid rush and whirl of human transactions, as accurately as though indefinite time and proper conditions were at his disposal, then I am compelled -fo follow the logic of things, and say that Mr. Lincoln had no more than ordinary common sense. The world, men and their actions, must be judged as they rush and pass along. They will not wait on us ; will not stay for our logic and analysis ; they must be seized as they run. We all our life act on the moment. Mr. Lincoln knew himself, and never trusted his dollar or his fame on his casual opinions ; he never acted hastily on great matters. “ Mr. Lincoln very well knew that the great lead- ing law of human nature was motive. He reasoned all ideas of a disinterested action from my mind. I used to hold that an action could be pure, disinter- ested, and holy, free from all selfishness, but he di- vested me of that delusion. His idea was that all human actions were caused by motives , and that at the bottom of those motives was self. He defied me to act without a motive and unselfishly ; and when I did the act and told him of it, he analyzed and sifted it, and demonstrated beyond the possibility of controvei’sy that it was altogether selfish. Though he was a profound analyzer of the laws of human nature, still he had no idea of the peculiar motives SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 3B7 of the particular individual. He could not well discriminate in human nature. He. knew but little of the play of the features as seen in ‘ the human face divine.’ He could not distinguish between the paleness of anger and the crimson tint of modesty. He could not determine what each play of the feat- ures indicated. “ The great predominating elements of Mr. Lin- coln’s peculiar character, were : First, his great ca- pacity an&qoower of reason ; secondly, his excellent understanding : thirdly, an exalted idea of the sense of righ t and equity ; and, fourthly, his intense ven- eration of what was true and g ood. His reason ruled despotically all other faculties and qualities of his mind. His conscience and heart were ruled by it. His conscience was ruled by one faculty — reason. His heart was ruled by two faculties — reason and conscience. I know it is generally believed that Mr. Lincoln’s heart, his love and kindness, his tenderness and benevolence, were his ruling qualities ; but this opinion is erroneous in every particular. First, as to his reason. He dwelt in the mind, not in the conscience, and not in the heart. He lived and breathed and acted from his reason, — the throne of loo-ic and the home of principle, the realm of Deity in man. It is from this point that Mr. Lincoln must be viewed. His views were correct and original. He was cautious not to be deceived ; he was patient and endur- 22 338 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. ing. He had concentration and great continuity of thought ; he had a profound analytic power ; his visions were clear, and he was emphatically the mas- ter of statement. His pursuit of the truth was in- defatigable, terrible. He reasoned from his well- chosen principles with such clearness, force, and compactness, that the tallest intellects in the land bowed to him with respect. He was the strongest man I ever saw, looking at him from the stand-point of his reason, — the throne of his logic. He came down from that height with an irresistible and crush- ing force. His printed speeches will prove this ; but his speeches before courts, especially before the Su- preme Courts of the State and Nation, would de- monstrate it : unfortunately none of them have been preserved. Here he demanded time to think and prepare. The office of reason is to determine the truth. Truth is the power of reason — the child of reason. He loved and idolized truth for its own sake. It was reason’s food. “ Conscience, the second great quality and forte of Mr. Lincoln’s character, is that faculty which loves the just: its office is justice ; right and equity are its correlatives. It decides upon all acts of all people at all times. Mr. Lincoln had a deep, broad, living conscience. His great reason told him what was true, good, and bad, right, wrong, just or un- just, and his conscience echoed back its decision ; and it was from this point that he acted and spoke and wove his character and fame among us. His SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 3 29 conscience ruled his heart ; he was always just be- fore he was gracious. This was his motto, his glory : and this is as it should be. It cannot be truthfully said of any mortal man that he was always just. Mr. Lincoln was not always just ; but his great gen- eral life was. It follows that if Mr. Lincoln had great reason and great conscience, he was an hon- est man. His great and general life was honest, and he was justly and rightfully entitled to the ap- pellation, ‘ Hone st Abe.’ Honesty was his great polar star. “ Mr. Lincoln had also a good understanding ; that is, the faculty that understands and compre- hends the exact state of things, their near and re- mote relation. The understanding does not neces- sarily inquire for the reason of things. I must here repeat that Mr. Lincoln was an odd and original man ; he lived by himself and out of himself. He could not absorb. He was a very sensitive man, unobtrusive and gentlemanly, and often hid himself in the common mass of men, in order to prevent the discovery of his individuality. He had no in- sulting egotism, and no pompous pride ; no haughti- ness, and no aristocracy. He was not indifferent, however, to approbation and public opinion. He was not an upstart, and had no insolence. He was a meek, quiet, unobtrusive gentleman. These qualities of his nature merged somewhat his iden- tities. Read Mr. Lincoln’s speeches, letters, mes- sages, and proclamations, read his whole record in 040 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUS^ his actual life, and you cannot fail to perceive that he had good understanding. He understood and fully comprehended himself, and- what he did and why he did it, better than most living men. “ There are contradictory opinions in reference to Mr. Lincoln’s heart and humanity. One opinion is that he was cold and obdurate, and the other opin- ion is that he was warm and affectionate. I have shown you that Mr. Lincoln first lived and breathed upon the world from his head and conscience. I have attempted to show you that he lived and breathed upon the world through the tender side of his heart, subject at all times and places to the logic of his reason, and to his exalted sense of right and equity, namely, his conscience. He always held his con- science subject to his head ; he held his heart always subject to his head and conscience. His heart was the lowest organ, the weakest of the three. Some men would reverse this order, and declare that his heart was his ruling organ ; that always manifested itself with love, regardless of truth and justice, right and equity. The question still is, was Mr. Lincoln a cold, heartless man, or a warm, affection- ate man ? Can a man be a warm-hearted man who is all head and conscience, or nearly so ? What, in the first place, do we mean by a warm-hearted man ? Is it one who goes out of himself and reaches for others spontaneously, because of a deep love of hu- manity, apart from equity and truth, and does what SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 341 r it does for love’s sake ? If so, Mr. Lincoln was a cold man. Or, do we mean that when a human being, man or child, approached him in behalf of a matter of right, and that the prayer of such an one was granted, that this is an evidence of his love? The African was enslaved, his rights were violated, and a principle was violated in them. Rights imply obligations as well as duties. Mr. Lincoln was President ; he was in a position that made it his duty through his sense of right, his love of principle, his constitutional obligations im- posed upon him by oath of office, to strike the blow against slavery. But did he do it for love ? He himself has answered the question : ‘ I would not free the slaves if I could preserve the Union with- out it.’ I use this argument against his too enthu- siastic friends. If you mean that this is love for love’s sake, then Mr. Lincoln was a warm-hearted man — not otherwise. To use a general expres- sion, his general life was cold. He had, however, a strong latent capacity to love ; but the object must first come as principle, second as right, and third as lovely. He loved abstract humanity when it was oppressed. This was an abstract love, not concrete in the individual, as said by some. He rarely used the term love, yet was he tender and gentle. He gave the key-note to his own character, when he said, ‘ with malice toward none, and with charity for all,’ he did what he did. He had no intense loves, and hence no hates and no malice. He had a broad 342 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. « charity for imperfect man, and let us imitate his great life in this. “ ‘ But was not Mr. Lincoln a man of great humanity?’ asks a friend at my elbow, a little angrily ; to which I reply, 4 Has not that question been answered already ? ’ Let us suppose that it has not. We must understand each other. What do you mean by humanity ? Do you mean that he had much of human nature in him ? If so, I will grant that he was a man of humanity. Do you mean, if the above definition is unsatisfactory, that Mr. Lincoln was tender and kind ? Then I agree with you. But if you mean to say that he so loved a man that he would sacrifice truth and- right for him, for love’s sake, then he was not a man of humanity. Do you mean to say that he so loved man, for love’s sake, that his heart led him out of himself, and compelled him to go in search of the objects of his love, for their sake ? He never, to my knowledge, manifested this side of his character. Such is the law of human nature, that it cannot be all iiead, all conscience, and all heart at one and the same time in one and the same person. Our Maker made it so, and where God through reason blazed the path, walk therein boldly. Mr. Lincoln’s glory and power lay in the just combination of head, conscience, and heart, and it is here that his fame must rest, or not at all. 44 Not only were Mr. Lincoln’s perceptions good ; not only was nature suggestive to him ; not only SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 343 was he original and strong^; not only had he great reason, good understanding ; not only did he love the true and good — the eternal right ; not only was he tender and kind, — but, in due proportion and in legitimate subordination, had he a glorious com- bination of them all. Through his perceptions, — the suggestiveness of nature, his originality and strength ; through his magnificent reason, his un- derstanding, his conscience, his tenderness, and kindness, his heart, rather than love, — lie.,- approx- imated as. nearly as most human beings in this imperfect state to an embodiment of the great moral principle, ‘ Do unto others as ye would they should ^ do unto you.’ “ There are two opinions — radically diffei’ent opin- ions — expressed about Mr. Lincoln’s will, by men of equal and much capacity. One opinion is, that he had no will ; and the other is, that he was all will — omnipotently so. These two opinions are loudly and honestly affirmed. Mr. Lincoln’s mind loved the true, the right, and good, all the great truths and principles in the mind of man. He loved the true, first ; the right, second ; and the good, the least. His mind struggled for truths and his soul for substances. Neither in his head nor in his soul did he care for forms, methods, ways, — the wow- substantial facts or things. He could not, by his very structure and formation in mind and tody, care anything about them. He did not intensely 814 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. or much care for particular individual man, — the dollar, property, rank, order, manners, or such like things. lie laid no avarice in his nature, or other like vice. He despised, somewhat, all technical rules in law and theology and other sciences, — mere forms everywhere, — because they were, as a General rule, founded on arbitrary thoughts and cT> 7 ^ J O ideas, and not on reason, truth, right, and the good. These things were without substance, and he disre- garded them because they cramped his original na- ture. What suited a little, narrow, critical mind did not suit Mr. Lincoln’s, any more than a child's clothes did his body. Generally, Mr. Lincoln could not take any interest in little local elections — town meetings. He attended no gatherings that per- tained to local or other such interests, saving gen- eral political ones. He did not care (because he could not, in his nature) who succeeded to the pres- idency of this or that Christian Association or Rail- road Convention ; who made the most money ; who was going to Philadelphia, when and for what, and what were the costs of such a trip. He could not care who, among friends, got this office or that — who got to be street inspector or alley commis- sioner. No principle of goodness, of truth, or right was here. How could he be moved by such things as these? He could not understand why men struggled for such things. He made this remark to nre one day, I think at Washington, ‘ If ever this free people — if this Government itself is ever SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 345 utterly demoralized, it will come from this human wriggle and struggle for office — a way to live with- out work ; from which nature I am not free myself.’ It puzzled him a good deal, at Washington, to know and to get at the root of this dread desire, — this contagious disease of national robbery in the nation’s death-struoole. co “ Because Mr. Lincoln could not feel any interest in such little things as I have spoken of, nor feel any particular interest in the success of those who were thus struggling and wriggling, he was called indifferent — nay, ungrateful — to his friends. Es- pecially is this the case with men who have aided Mr. Lincoln all their life. Mr. Lincoln always and everywhere wished his friends well ; he loved his - friends and clung to them tenaciously, like iron to iron welded ; yet he could not be actively and energetically aroused to the true sense of his friends’ particularly strong feelings of anxiety for office From this fact Mr. Lincoln has been called un- grateful. He was not an ungrateful man by any means. He may have been a cool man — a passive man in his general life ; yet he was not ungrateful. Ingratitude is too positive a word — it does not con- vey the truth. Mr. Lincoln may not have measured his friendly duties by the applicant’s hot desire ; I admit this. He was not a selfish man, — if by self- ishness is meant that Mr. Lincoln would do any act, even to promote himself to the Presidency, if by that act any human being was wronged. If it 846 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. is said that Abraham Lincoln preferred Abraham Lincoln to any one else, in the pursuit of his ambi- tions, and that, because of this, he was a selfish man, then I can see no objections to such an idea, for this is universal human nature. “ It must be remembered that Mr. Lincoln’s mind acted logically, cautiously, and slowly. Now, having stated the above facts, the question of his will and its power is easily solved. Be it remembered that Mr. Lincoln cared nothing for simple facts, manners, modes, ways, and such like things. Be it remem- bered that he did care for truth, right, for princi- ple, for all that pertains to the good. In relation to simple facts, unrelated to substance, forms, rules, methods, ways, manners, he cared nothing ; and if he could be aroused, he would do anything for any body at any time, as well foe as friend. As a politi- cian he would courteously grant all facts and forms — all non-essential things — to his opponent. He did so because he did not care for them ; they were rubbish, husks, trash. On the question of substance, he hung and clung with all his might. On ques- tions of truth, justice, right, the good, on principle his will was as firm as steel and as tenacious ^s iron. It was as firm, solid, real, vital, and tenacious as an idea on which the world hinges or hangs. Ask Mr. Lincoln to do a wrong thing, and he would scorn the request ; ask him to do an unjust thing, and he would cry, ‘ Begone ! ’ ask him to sacrifice his convictions of the truth, and his soul would in- dignantly exclaim, ‘ The world perish first ! ’ SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 347 “ Such was Mr. Lincoln’s will. On manners and Buck like things, he was pliable. On questions of right and substance, he was as firm as a rock. One of these classes of men look at Mr. Lincoln from the stand-point of things non-essential, and the other looks at him from the stand-point of substance, re- jecting forms. Hence the difference. Mr. Lin- coln ^vas a man of firm, unyielding will, when, in human transactions, it was necessary to be so, and not otherwise. At one moment Mr. Lincoln was as pliable and expansive as gentle air, and at the next moment he was as biting, firm, tenacious, and unyielding as gravity itself. “Thus I have traced Mr. Lincoln through his perceptions, his suggestiveness, his judgments, and his four great predominant qualities, namely, — his powers of reason, his great understanding, his con- science, and his heart. I assert that Mr. Lincoln lived in the head. He loved the truth ; he loved the eternal right and the good, — never yielding the fundamental conceptions of these to any man for any end. “ All the follies and wrong Mr. Lincoln ever fell into, or committed, sprang or came out of his weak points, namely, his want of quick, sagacious, intu- itive judgment, — his want of quick, sagacious, in- tuitive knowledge of the play and meaning of the features of men as written on the face, — his tender- ness and mercy, and, lastly, his utterly unsuspecting nature. He was deeply and seriously honest him- 348 m SIX MOUTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. self, and assumed that others were so organized He never suspected men. These, with other de- fects of his nature, caused all his follies and wrongs, if lie ever had any of either. “ All the wise and good things Mr. Lincoln ever did, sprang or came out of his great reason, his con- science, his understanding, and his heart, his love of truth, right, and the good. I am speaking, now * of his particular and individual faculties and quali- ties, not their combination , nor the result of wise or unwise combinations. Each man and woman must form his or her own estimate of the man in the mind. Run out these facts, qualities, and faculties, and see what they must produce. For instance, a tender heart ; a wise, strong reason ; a good under- standing, an exalted conscience, a love of the good, must, in such combination, practically applied, pro- duce a man of great humanity. “ Take another illustration in the combination of his faculties and qualities. Mr. Lincoln’s eloquence lay, 1st, in the strength of his logical faculty, his supreme power of reasoning, his great understand- ing, and his love of principle ; 2d, in his clear, ex- act, and very accurate vision ; 8d, in his cool and masterly statement of his principles, around which the issues gather ; in the statement of those issues, and the grouping of the facts that are to carry con- viction, aided by his logic, to the minds of men of every grade of intelligence. He was so clear that he could not be misunderstood nor misrepresented. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 340 He stood square and bolt upright to his convictions, and formed by them his thoughts and utterances. Mr. Lincoln's mind was not a wide % deep, broad, generalizing, and comprehensive mind, nor versatile quick, bounding here and there* as emergencies demanded it. His mind was deep, enduring, and strong, running in deep iron grooves, with flanges •on its wheels. His mind was not keen, sharp, and subtile ; it was deep, exact, and strong. “ Whatever of life, vigor, force, and power of eloquence the whole of the above qualities, or a wise combination will give ; whatever there is in a fair, manly, honest, and impartial administration of justice, under law, to all men at all times, — through these qualities and capabilities given, never deviating ; whatever there is in a strong will in the right, governed by tenderness and mercy ; whatever there is in toil and a, sublime patience ; whatever there is in particular faculties, or a wise combination of them, — not forgetting; his weak points, — working wisely, sagaciously, and honestly, openly and fairly ; — I say, whatever there is in these, or a combination of them, that Mr. Lin- coln is justly entitled to in all the walks of life. These limit, bound, and define him as statesman, oracor, as an executive of the nation, as a man of humanity, a good man, and a gentleman. These limit, bound, and define him every way, in all the ways and walks of life. He is under his law and his nature, and he never can get out of it. 350 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. “ This man, this long, bony, wiry, sad man, floated into our county in 1831, in a frail canoe, down the north fork of the Sangamon River, friend- less, pennyless, powerless, and alone, — begging for work in this city, ragged, struggling for the com- mon necessaries of life. This man, this peculiar man, left us in 1861, the President of the United States, backed by friends and power, by fame, and all human force ; and it is well to inquire how. “ To sum up, let us say, here is a sensitive, diffi- dent, unobtrusive, natural-made gentleman. His mind was strong and deep, sincere and honest, pa- tient and enduring ; having no vices, and having only negative defects, with many positive virtues. His is a strong, honest, sagacious, manly, noble life. He stands in the foremost rank of men in all ages, — their equal, — one of the best types of this Chris- tian civilization.” LXXX. At the end of six months’ incessant labor, my task at the White House drew near completion. On the 22d of July, the President and Cabinet, at the close of the regular session, adjourned in a body to the State Dining-room, to view the work, at last in a condition to receive criticism. Sitting in the midst of the group, the President expressed his “ un- schooled ” opinion, as he called -it, of the result, in terms which could not but have afforded the deep- est gratification to any artist. SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 3.51 The curiosity of the public to see the picture was so great that during the last two days of my stay in Washington, by the kind permission of the Presi- dent, it was placed in the East Room, and thrown open to the public. During this time the house was thronged with visitors, the porters estimating their number each day at several thousands. Towards the close of the second day’s exhibition, intending- to have the canvas taken down and rolled up during the night for transportation to New York, I watched for an opportunity to say a last word to Mr. Lincoln previous to his leaving for the Sol- diers’ Home, where the family were then staying, At four o’clock the carriage drove up to the door, accompanied by the “ Black-Horse Cavalry ” es- cort. Knowing the President w’ould soon appear, I stepped out under the portico to wait for him. Pres- ently I caught sight of his unmistakable figure stand- ing hglf-way between the porticd*and the gateway leading to the War Department leaning against the iron fence, — one arm thrown over the railing, and one foot on the stone coping which supports it, evi- dently having been intercepted, on his way in from the War Department, by a plain-looking man, who was giving him, very diffidently, an account of a difficulty which he had been unable to have recti- fied. While waiting, I walked out leisurely to the President’s side. He said very little to the man, but was intently studying the expression of his face svhile he was narrating his trouble. When he had 352 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. finished, Mr. Lincoln said to him, “ Have you a blank card ? ” The man searched his pockets, but finding none, a gentleman standing near, who had overheard the question, came forward and said, “ Here is one, Mr. President.” Several persons had in the mean time gathered around. Taking the card and a pencil, Mr. Lincoln sat down upon the low stone coping, presenting almost the appear- ance of sitting upon the pavement itself, and wrote an order upon the card to the proper official to “ examine this man’s case.” While writing this, I observed several persons passing down the prom- enade smiling, at what I presume they- thought the undignified appearance of the head of the nation, who, however, seemed utterly unconscious, either of any impropriety in the action, or of attracting any attention. To me it was not only another picture of the native goodness of the man, but of true nobility of clfaracter, exemplified not so much by a disregard of conventionalities, as in uncon- sciousness that there could be any breach of eti- quette or dignity in the manner of an honest attempt to serve or secure justice to a citizen of the Republic, however humble he might be. Rising to his feet he handed the man the card, with a word of direction, and then turning to me said: “Well C , I must go in and take one moi’e look at the picture before you leave us.” So saying, he accompanied me to the East Room, and sitting down in front of it, remained for some time in silence. I said that SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 3o3 I nad at length worked out my idea, as he ex- pressed it at our first interview, and would now be glad to hear his final suggestions and criticism. “ There is little to find fault with,” he replied ; “ the portraiture is the main thing, and that seems to me absolutely perfect.” I then called his attention afresh to the accesso- ries of the picture, stating that these had been selected from the objects in the Cabinet chamber with reference solely to their bearing upon the sub- ject. “Yes,” said he, “there are the war-maps, the portfolios, the sZave-map, and all ; but the book in the corner, leaning against the chair-leg, — you have changed the title of that, I see.” “ Yes,” I replied ; “ at the jast moment I learned that you frequently consulted, during the period you wer» preparing the Proclamation, Solicitor Whiting’s w T ork on the ‘ War Powers of the President,’ and as Emancipation was the result in fact of a mil- itary necessity, the book seemed to me just the thing to go in there ; so I simply changed the title, leaving the old sheepskin cover as it was.” “Now,” said he, “Whiting’s book is not a regu- lar law-book. It is all very well that it should be there ; but I would suggest that as you have changed the title, you change also the character of the binding. It now looks like an old volume «f -Ur- United States Statutes.” I thanked him for this criticism, and then said : “ Is there anything else that you would like changed or added?” “No,” 23 354 SIX MONTHS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. he replied, and then repeated very emphatically the expression he used when the design was first sketched upon the canvas : “ It is as good as it can be made.” I then referred at some length, to the enthu- siasm in which the picture was conceived and had been executed, concluding with an expression of my profound appi’eciation of the«very unusual op- portunities afforded me in the prosecution of the work, and his unvarying kindness and considera- tion through the many weeks of our intercourse. He listened pensively, — almost passively, to me, — his eyes fastened upon the picture. As I fin- ished he turned, and in his simple-hearted, earnest way, said : “ C , I believe I am about as glad Qver the success of this work as you are.” And with these words in my ear, and a cordial “ good- bye ” grasp of the hand, President and painter separated : the one to gather into and around himself more and more the affections of a mighty people, till in the culmination and attainment of all his heart’s desires he should be called from “ glory to glory ; ” the other, in his humble sphere, to garner as a precious legacy to him and his these fragments of leaves from the daily life of one whose name and fame ■ — inseparably bound up with devotion to freedom and reverence for law, fra- grant with the tender memories and sweet humani- ties of life — are to grow brighter and stronger with God’s eternal years, as men learn to appre- ciate and emulate a true Christian manhood. INDEX. A. ^ Adams, J. Q., 211. Aliev, Hon. J. 13., 119. All-noise Story, 212. Amnesty Proclamation, 98. Andersonville, 177. Apparition, 164. Arnold, Hon. I. N., 150, 237, 302. Asliley, Hon. Mr., 151. Ashmun, Hon. George, 284-286. Assassination, 63. B. Baker, G. E., 127. Baldwin, Judge, (Cal.,) 245. Baltimore Convention, 162. Barrett, Hon. J. H., 86, 254. Bateman, Newton, 192. Bates, Attorney-General, 55. Battle, Fair Oaks, 139. Beecher, Henrv Ward, 135, 230. Bellows, Rev. Dr., 81, 274. Bible Presentation, 199. Bingham, Hon. John A., 234. Blair, Hon. M., 21, 46. 88 Booth, Edwin, 49. Bowen, H. C., 221. Brady, M. B., 46. Braine, Lieutenant, 94. Brooks. Noah, 63, 165, 188, 235. “Bulletin,” (San Francisco,) 223. Burnside, 81. C. Cabinet Meeting, 55. Cameron, Secretary, 136-138, 253. Cannon, Colonel L. B., 115. Cass, General, 271. Chase, 21, 84, 85, 86, 88-90, 180, 218, 223; letter to Stanton, 180 Cheever, Rev. Dr., 147. Chicago Convention, 119. Christian Commission, 161. Clark, Senator, 276. Clay, Henry, 71. Colfax, Hon. Schuyler, 14, 85, 87 172, 177, 195, 285. Concert, Marine Band, 143, 168. Creech, 68. Creeds, 190. Crittenden, General, 46 Cropsey, 168. Curtin, 82-84. Cushing, Lieutenant, 232. D. Dali, Mrs. C. H., 165. Defrees, 126. Dealing, Bon. H. C., 190, 219. “ Demonstrate,” 314. Derby, J. C., (N.Y.,) 290. Description of Picture, 27. Dole, Commissioner, 282. Douglas, Hon. Stephen A., 194 , 237, 249, 315. Douglass, Frederick, 204. E. Elliott, (Artist,) 69. Emancipation, 21, 73, 74, 77 78 , 86, 196, 197, 269, 307. Equestrian Statues, 71. Ewing, Hon. Thomas, 37. «* F. Fessenden, Hon. W. P., 182 . 356 INDEX. Field, Rev. II. M., 135. Florida Expedition, 43. Ford, Hon. Thomas. 296. Forney, Colonel, 267. Forrest, Edtvin, 114. Frank, Hon. A., 218. Freedmen, 196. Fremont, 47, 220, 221. G. Gamble, Governor. 242. Garfield, General, 240. Garrison, 167. Gilbert, Wall Street Assessor, 255. Goldsborough, Admiral, 240. Grant, General, 56, 57, 265, 283, 292. Greeley, 152. Greene, W. T., 267. Gulliver, Rev. J. B., Reminis- cences, 309. H. Halpine, Colonel, 63, 278. Hammond, Surgeon-General. 274, 275. Hanks, Dennis, 299. Harris, Hon. Ira, 175. Hay, John, 45, 149. Henderson, Rev. Mr., 320. Henry, Dr., (Oregon,) 302. Herndon, Hon. Win. H. ; analysis of ilr. Lincoln’s charScter, 323. Higbv, Hon. William, 148 Holland, Dr., 79, 191. Holmes, O. W., 58. Holt, Judge, 32, 33. Hooker, General, 233. Hospitals, 107. Hubbard, Hon. Mr., (Ct.,) 253. I. “ Independent,” New York, 88, 230, 287. “ Ingenious Nonsense,” 158. Inman, (Artist,) 69. Interview, first, with Mr. Lincoln, Jackson, *' Stonewal,” 234, 268. Johnson, Hon. Andrew, 102. Johnson, Oliver, 77. Jones, (Sculptor,) 34. K. Kelly, Hou- Wm., 92, 165, 294. King, Starr, 228. Knox, William, (Poet,) 60. L. Lincoln, Hon. G. B., of Brooklyn, 110, 1», 234. Lincoln, Mrs., 165. 293. 301. Lincoln, President, account of Emancipation Proclamation, 20 76, 83. 35, 90, 269, 307 ; his sad- ness, 30; love of Shakspeare, 49 ^ memory, 52 ; appreciation of poe- try, 59 ; “ Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud V” 60; opinion concerning Assassina- tion, 62;“ Latin ” quotation, 78; exceptionable stories, 80 ; on Wall Street gold speculators, 84 ; closing sentence, 89 ; “ prom- ised his God,” &c., 90; his ma- tured judgment upon the act of Emancipation, 90 ; simplicity and humility, 95; his first dol- lar, 96; Amnesty Proclamation, interview with Hon. Robert Dale Owen, 98 ; account of capture of Norfolk, 104, 210; exhausted patience illustrated, 106, 108; wounded Marylander, 109; as surveyor, 111; “ new clothes,” 113 ; axes, 113, 289 ; never read a novel, 114; interview with Rev. Dr. Vinton, 117 ; telegram to friends at Chicago Conven- tion, 120; reception of nomi- nation, (I860,) 121; temperanco principles, 125; “sugar-coated,” 126; the signing of public doc- uments. 128; speech to foreign minister, 128; on office-seekers, 129, 145, 276; borrowing the army, 130; Sunday-school cele- bration, 130 ; regard for chil- dren, 132; “the baby did it,” 133; pardon cases, 4), 43, 133 INDEX. 357 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 250, 296, 319; Five Points' Sun- day - School, 133 ; at Henry Ward Beecher’s church, 134; relations until Cabinet, 135; Sec- retary Cameron’s Report, 136; General Patterson, 137 ; Sec- retary Cameron’s retirement, 138; interview with P. M. Wet- more. (X. Y.,) 140; sensitive- ness 144, 145; “thin skinned,” 145; willingness to receive ad- vice, 146 ; " canvassed hams,” 14S; indifference to •‘personal appearance, 148; Nicolay and Hay, 149; “ Nasby Betters,” 151 ; relief found in story-tell- ing, 152 ; Greeley, 152, 153 ; newspaper reading, 154; news- paper “gas,” 155; newspa- per “reliable,” 156; Chicago “ Times,” 156 ; “ ingenious non- sense,” 158; “husked out,” 158; letter to Lovejoy Monument Association, 160: Massett, 160; Christian Commission, 162; re- nomination, 162 : apparition, 164; Mrs. Lincoln. 164, 293. 301: speech to committee from Baltimore Convention, and Wil- liam Lloyd Garrison, 167 ; Mrs. Cropsey. 168; and soldiers, 169; reprieves, 171; a hand- some President, 174 ; idiotic boy, 176; Andersonville prison- ers, 178; retaliation, 178; Fes- senden, 182 ; McCulloch, 184; religious experience, 185-188; rebel ladies, 189; Col. Denting, 190; creeds, 190; Newton Bate- man, 192; slavery, 194; prayer, 195 ; epitaph suggested, 196 ; Bi- ble presentation, 197 ; Caroline Johnson, once a slave, 199 ; Sojourner Truth, 201-203; Fred- erick Douglass, 204; memorial from children, 204; Ne\t Year’s Day, 1865, 205; ‘ walk de earf like de Lord,” 209; Rebel Peace Commissioners, 212 ; “slave map,” 215; Kilpatrick, 216; personal description, 217, 323 ; opinion on the war, 219; text applied to Fremont, 220 ; reappointment of Fre- mont, 222; California lady’s ac- count of a visit at “Soldiers' Home,” 223; on “trees,” 224; “school of events,” 225; Mc- Clellan, 130, 143, 227, 255; Peace Convention, 229; Henry Ward Beecher, 230; popularity with the soldiers and people, 231; portraits, 46, 231; Lieu- tenant Cushing, 232; last in- augural, 234 ; his election to the legislature in 1834, 234; never invented a “ story,” 235; first political speech, 236; contest with Douglas. 237 ; af- fection for his step-mother. 238; reply to anti-slavery delegation Trorn New York, 239; reply to a clergyman, 239; concerning Gov. Gamble of Missouri, 242; on Seward’s “poetry," 242; be- trothal of Prince of Wufes, 243; honesty as a lawyer, 245; “ attorney of the people,” 245; “ little influence with this ad- ministration,” 246; reply' to Stanton's detractor, 246; the German lieutenant, 246 ; Gen- eral Grant's “ whiskey,” 247 ; no personal vices, 247 ; ser- enade speeches, 248 ; his own war minister, 249; illustration from “ Euclid,” 249 ; “ pigeon- hearted," 250; “ minneboolioo,” 251; Hannibal’s wars, 253 ; reports of committees, 253 ; Brigadier-Generals, 254, 260 ; twelve hundred thousand reb- els in the field, 255 ; Assessor Gilbert, 255 ; on canes, 256 ; hogshead illustration, 256; on Missouri Compromise, 257 ; “ Statute of Limitations,” 257 ; Blondin crossing Niagara, 257 ; reply' to attacks, 258 ; Chicago “ Democratic Plat- form," 259; death of John Mor- gan, 259; case of Franklin W. Smith, 259; “royal” blood, 261; reading the Bible, 262; thinking of a man down South 263; presentiment of death, 263; the wards of the nation, 264) 858 INDEX. Lincoln and Stanton, 265; as a flat-boatman, 267 ; Louisiana negro, 268; Stonewall Jackson, 268 ; reply to Kentuckians, 269 ; letter to General Wads- worth, 270; extract from speech in Congress, 271; “browsing around,” 272; the negro porter, 272; Rev. Dr. Bellows and Sur- geon-General Hammond, 274 ; the election of President the people’s business, 275; appoint- ment of chaplains, 277 ; appreci- ation of humor, 278 ; “ public opinion baths,” 281 ; “on the Lord’s side,” 282; going down with colors flj'ing, 282 ; opinion of General Grant, 283 ; interview with Messrs. Colfax and Ash- man, evening of assassination, 284 ; at City-Point hospital, 287 ; Lincoln and the rebel soldier, 288; last interview with Secre- tary Seward, 290; his dream, 292; last afternoon, 293 ; Lincoln and Willie Bladen, 294; “you don’t wear hoops," &c., 297 ; Grist illustration, 298; his duel, 302; interview with Judge Mills and ex-Gov. Randall, (Wis.,) 305 ; Lincoln and Rev. J. P. Gul- liver, 309; shedding of blood, the remission of sins, 319; Lin- coln and the drummer-boy, 319; consideration of the humble illustrated, 321 ; “ may you live a thousand years, and always be the head of this great na- tion,” 322; Herndon’s analysis of character, 323 ; indifference to ceremony, 326 ; final criti- cism of the painting, 353 ; fare- well words, 354. Lincoln, Robert, 45, 300. Lincoln, “ Tad,” 44, 91, 92, 293, 300. Lincoln, “ Willie,” 44, 116. Lovejov, Hon. Owen, 14, 17, 18, 20, 47, 57, 157. Lincoln’s “ S Tories.” General Scott and Jones the sculptor, 34; “great ’’men, 37; Daniel Webster, 37, 131; Thad. Stevens, 38 ; “a little more light and a little less noise,” 49; tax on “state” banks, 53; Andy Johnson and Colonel Moody, 102; “chin flv,” 129; Secretary Cameron’s retirement, 138; Wade and Davis’ “mani- festo,” 145; “second advent,” 147; “nothing but a noise,” 155; “swabbing windows,” 159 ; “ mistakes,” 233 ; “ picket ” story, 233 ; “ plaster of psalm tunes,” 239; “ Fox River,” 240; “nudum pactum,” 241; har- monizing the “ Democracy,” 244 ; Mrs. Sallie Ward and her children, 247 ; a Western judge, 250 ; “ lost my apple over- board,” 252; rigid government and close construction, 254 ; “ breakers ” ahead, 256 ; coun- terfeit bill, 262; blasting rocks, 262; General Phelps’s emanci- pation proclamation, 273; mak- ing “ministers,” 277; John Ty- ler, 278; the Irish soldier and Jacob Thompson, 283 ; Jeff. Davis and the coon, 284; last story, — “ how Patagonians eat oysters,” told to Marshal La- mon on evening of assassina- tion, 285. M. Marine Band, 168. “Massa Sam’s dead,” 207 McClellan, 130, 143, 227, 255. McCulloch, Hon. Hugh, 179, 185. McKaye, Colonel, 208. McVeagh, 242. Memory, 52. Miller, Hon. S. F., 5, 174. Mills, Judge J. T., (Wis.,) 305. Mix, Captain, 261. Moody, Colonel, 102. Morgan, John, 259. Morgan, Senator, 74. Murtagh, Mr., ( Washington,) 321 N. “ Nasby Papers,” 151. INDEX. 359 Newspapers, 154. Nicolav, 149. Norfolk, (capture,) 104, 240. Novels, 115. O. Odell, Hon. M. F., 170, 178. “ Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud? ” (Poem,) 60. Owen, Robert Dale, 98. P. Pardon applications, 40, 43, 132, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 250, 296, 297, 318. Patterson, General, 137. Peace Conference at Hampton Roads, 209. Phelps, General, 273. Pierpont, Rev. John, 78, 179. R. Randall, ex-Governor, (lYis.,) 305. Raymond, 95, 129. Red River disaster. 55. Religious character, 185. “ Root,” General, 70. “ Root Hog" Story, 211. S. Scott, General, 34. Seward, Secretary, 22, 69, 223, 242; on Clay and Webster, 71; on “Equestrian” Statues, 71; on Emancipation, 72; on Mr. Lincoln, 81; Seward and Lin- coln, 290 ; the last interview, 290 : first knowledge of the President’s death, 291. Seymour, General, 48. Shakspeare, 49, 115, 150, 162. Shannon, Hon. Thomas, 147, 148. Sherman, General, 233. Shields and Lincoln, 302. “Simmons, Pollard," 111. Sinclair, 16, 48. Sizer, Nelson, 134. Slave Map, 215. Smith, Franklin W., 259. “ Sojourner Truth,” 201-203. “ Soldiers’ Home,” 223. “Spectator,” (London,) 31. Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, 101. Stanton, Secretary, 33, 54, 264, 300. Stephens, Alexander, 211, 215. , Stephens, Mrs. Ann S., 131. Stevens, Hon. Thaddeus, 38, 173. Stone, Dr., 81. Swayne, (Sculptor,) 59. T. Taylor, B. F., 154. Thompson, George, 75. Thompson, Rev. J. P., 143, 186 259. Tilton, 89, 167, 196. Y. Van Alen, 173. Vinton, Rev. Francis, 117. W. Wade and Davis, 145. Wadsworth, General, 270. Washington, raid on, 301. Webster, 37, 71, 130. AVelles, Secretary, 232. Wetmore, P. M., 140. Wilderness battles, 30. AVilkeson, 101. AVillets, Rev., 187. Willis, N. P., 115. Y. Yates, Governor, 267. THE END. D£C l - : CARS Oct 1 7 ' L? 7 i ^ i J D00462713N f / p _ W ~