Yale University Library

m

WILLIAM O. STODDARD

LINCOLN AT WORK

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Engraved from the rare print referred to on page 43.

Lincoln at Work

Sketches from Life

BY

WILLIAM O. STODDARD

Illustrated by Sears Gallagher

United Society of Christian Endeavor
Boston and Chicago

I. A Country Politician
II. A Teial by Spade
III. Veey Dey Geass
IV. Poeteaits op Lincoln
V. A Forgotten Heeo
VI. The Dark Woek-Koom
VII. Writing to the President
VIII. The Night Council
IX. The Sideboaed and the White House
X. The Sentry at the Gate
XI. The Messenger to the President
XII. The Weestling-Match .
XIII. Uncle Sam's Web-Feet
XIV. Lincoln's Geeat Discovery
XV. Take That to Stanton
XVI. The Voice of the South

. 1120
. 31 42
. 52 60
. 7182
. 92
102
. 113124
. 135145
. 154164

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE
Portrait of Lincoln . . Frontispiece.
" How aee you to-day, Doc ? " . . .13
" now the spade was up in the air "" . .29
" All his soul was aflame " . . .39
"The muzzle went crashing theough that
pane" . . . . . .56
The President and the Pins . . .63
" John, just tell that stoey ovee again " .68
"I don't believe Me. Lincoln can be -at all
awaee of this " . . . .74
" It 's not there, your excellency " . . 84
"It was a curiously informal council " .89
Portrait of Mrs. Lincoln . . Facing page 99
"Put out dot cigae-r-e! " .... 107
"It couldn't be called a council of wae "
Facing page 117
" Every whit as supreme as ever " . . 134
" What do you think of it? " . . . 143
" Grant is the first general I 've had " . 150
General Grant ..... 153
" Every ear was husked by a union soldier " . 158
"Read that!" . . . . .163
" Lincoln is dead ! Lincoln is dead ! " . 169
7

Preface.
jOME time after the sketches of which
this volume is composed began to
make their appearance in The
Christian Endeavor World, an in
telligent woman inquired of the author : —
"Please tell me, did Mr. Lincoln seem a
great man to those who were most intimately
associated with him in every-day life ? Or
was he only great at a distance, or in retro
spect ? Did he seem great to you, as you met
him daily at the White House ? "
" As to that, madam," I replied, " I discov
ered, in after years, that I had seen and studied
his greatness much more fully, perhaps more
critically, than I was then aware. One strong
impression was left upon my mind indelibly.
I saw him on various occasions, under varied
circumstances, surrounded by or in conference
with the foremost men of his day. Among
them were his cabinet officers, Senators, Con
gressmen, jurists, governors of States, scholars,
literary men, military and naval celebrities,
foreign ambassadors. Of many of these men
9

10 PREFACE
I had myself formed previously even exagger
ated estimates. I took note, however, of one
inevitable, unfailing phenomenon. Every man
of them seemed suddenly to diminish in size
the moment he in any manner came into com
parison with Mr. Lincoln. Another curious
thing was that all the really ablest men among
them were aware, consciously or unconsciously,
of the superior strength confronting them.
Of course there were those who consented to
say and even to record that they considered
him defective, if not weak. They believed
that they had read him, measured him ; they
regretted that the affairs of the nation were
not in more capable hands, — their own, for
instance." " There," she exclaimed, " I am glad to hear
you say so. I wonder if I should know a great
man if I happened to meet one."
" It is not likely that you would," I told her.
" Not unless you saw him actually doing
something that nobody else could do. You
would perceive his greatness then, if you saw
him at work  "
"That's it," she said. "Mr. Stoddard, I'd
like to see Abraham Lincoln at his work ! "
William O. Stoddard.
Madison, N. J., May ib, igoo.

>A Coun tri Politician

iV

j[HAT whole job pied? The care
less young imp ! What on earth
made him meddle with it ? And
here I am, with a column leader
to write, and all the news to make up ! "
" It can't be helped, now, and we want to
get to press early to-morrow. Big edition.
It's pied awful ! "
The young printer who was looking at the
wreck of types with such an air of dismay was
evidently the editor also of the weekly journal
which he was preparing for the press. He was
of medium height, with dark hair and a pair
of saucy eyes. He stepped around, moreover,
with the somewhat jaunty, half-defiant air
which was likely, perhaps, to distinguish a far-
Western journalist with local disturbances close
at hand.
It was a hot June day. and he was in his
shirt and trousers. His shirt-sleeves were
rolled up to the shoulder, and his hands were
black with printer's ink.
The printing-office was in the second story
of a large frame building that shook timor-
11

12 LINCOLN AT WORK
ously whenever the press was running or a
good breeze blowing. Eelow, in front, was a
flourishing dry-goods concern. In the rear of
this was the editorial sanctum, and this also
served for the office of a physician who was a
principal owner of the journal.
This gentleman was now standing at his
desk, apparently occupied in the manufacture
of pills. Short, thin, wiry, with a pugilistic
expression of face, he had persisted in wearing,
even in summer, a gorgeously flowered plush
waistcoat. Somebody came in at the wide-open door at
this moment, almost filling it, he was so very
tall. He was a powerful looking, sallow-faced,
clean-shaven man of middle age. He wore a
high silk hat, somewhat foxy, and an elderly
black suit.
" How are you to-day, Doc ? " he inquired,
but he could hardly have heard the medical
man's soliloquy over his pills.
" Humph ! What on earth is he here for ?
He is n't enough of an Abolitionist to suit me.
He's at work on this 'ere new party, but he
can't make it go. 'T is n't in him ! How are
you ? " he uevertheless responded aloud, as he
turned to shake hands with his tall visitor.
" Sit down. Cool off. Awful hot day. How
are politics ? "

A COUNTRY POLITICIAN

13

The newcomer's hat was off, and he took a
chair, mopping his broad, deeply wrinkled fore
head with a red bandanna handkerchief.

"How are you to-day, Doc? "

" Well, Doc, I 'd say that American politics
need a heap of doctoring, just now. I want
to see that young man of the Gazette. They
tell me that he knows about everybody in the

14 LINCOLN AT WORK
county. I want to know how things are run
ning. Can you fetch him ? If you can, bring
him out."
" He's up-stairs, now," replied the doctor.
" He's as busy as a bee, though. What do you
want to know ? "
" Well, I 'd kind o' like to have a talk with
him. Call him down, Doc ? "
" Te — es," drawled the doctor. " He can
come, if you really wrant to see him. Speak
ing of politics, though, I want to say t>ne thing
'bout myself, right here. I'm not any sort of
half-way man. I'm an out-and-out Abolition
ist." The tall man laughed, in a quiet, peculiar
way. He seemed to be amused, but the doctor
was not, and he went up the stairs with the
air of a man who was not well pleased with
his errand.
" I say ! " he blurted, as he reached the upper
floor. " Come down. The old man is here
and wants to see ye. You 'd best come, but
you can't make anything out of him. I s'pose
you know 'bout wrhat he is. He was in Con
gress once  "
" Hang it ! " responded the irritated man at
the pied job. " I can't leave this. I have n't
a minute to spare."
" Come along ! " urged his friend. " You

A COUNTRY POLITICIAN 15
are looking like sin ! Can't you brush up a
little ? Put on your coat."
"No, I won't. Not for him or anybody
else. Not this hot day. I '11 come as I am, or
I won't come at all. What do you suppose
he '11 care how I look ? "
" Why, man alive, you 're all ink. Some on
your face, where you wiped it. No collar on.
Worst-looking critter  "
"Tell you what, then, Doctor," said the
editor, " I '11 compromise. I '11 wash my hands,
but I won't roll down my shirt-sleeves. Tell
him I 'm coming."
There was a musical chuckle near the desk
in the room below, for the conversation up
stairs had not been carried on in a whisper.
Down came the doctor to report, and to put
pills into little boxes, and to measure powders
with a horn spoon, and his tall visitor chatted
away with him pleasantly.
The printer left his job rebelliously, and
scrubbed at his ink-stains as if he loved them
and preferred having them where they were.
Sharp rubbing with a crash towel followed,
and his toilet was completed. Nevertheless,
there was a half -bashful flush upon his face
when he came down into the sanctum, for the
gentleman he was to meet was really a man of
some distinction, — that is, in his own State,

16 LINCOLN AT WORK
but not outside of it. He was considered a
good lawyer, and had been active as a political
manager. It was generally understood, just
at this time, however, that he had utterly
ruined his political career, for the future, by
the extraordinary, half-crazy blunders which
he had recently been making.
" How are you ? " he said to the young man,
somewhat as if he had known him from child
hood. " I won't bother you long, but you can
tell me a few little things that I want to know.
You keep track of the drift of the county poli
tics, and you can say how the people are
going." " No — b," put in the young editor. " They 're
not going, just now\ Half of 'em don't know
where they are, and the other half are nailed
down to their old notions."
" Just so ! " exclaimed the visitor. " It 's
just so everywhere else. Now I want to take
this county up by the townships, one by one.
How, for example, is Lost Grove township ? "
"That? Why, that's old Mack's. Only
two newspapers taken there. Only four men
and an old woman that can read even them.
He owns the distillery. The voters get their
tickets from him every time. He 's quarrelling
with the pro-slavery men, though, about his
hiring some free niggers. If he should make

A COUNTRY POLITICIAN 17
up his mind to hire two or three more, you
can count on that township, solid, for this
once." "Just so," laughed the visitor. "And now,
how about Turney's and all along the South
Fork?" " O ! The Egyptians ! They're all voting
for General Jackson yet."
"They haven't heard that he's dead?"
slowly drawled the tall politician. "That's
the trouble with a good many people. But
they 're all going to be waked up pretty soon.
And now how about  " So he went care
fully on, exhibiting a minuteness of local
knowledge of persons and things that %vas
remarkable. From townships he came down
to villages, to hamlets, to individual men and
their antecedents, as if at some previous time
he had compiled a directory of all that region.
The young editor was now sitting with his
bare elbows resting upon the doctor's table,
gazing absorbedly into the deeply marked, un
handsome, but wonderfully intelligent, face of
the man before him.
The doctor ? O ! They had both forgotten
him. No sooner had this pair entered upon
their uninteresting cross-examination than he
had picked up his leather medicine-case and
walked out in silence. The tall politician must

18 LINCOLN AT WORK
also have almost forgotten the young editor
himself, for he shortly talked on as if half so
liloquizing. He seemed to be employing the
statistics of that county as a sample study for
the understanding of the condition of scores of
others, and of the State, and of other States,
and of the whole country. He even picked up
a pencil and jotted down the figures of rough
estimates, his readings of political possibilities.
The pied job lay deserted upon the imposing-
stone, up-stairs, while the Western country pol
itician was in this manner wasting his own
time and that of the absorbed young printer.
The typesetters would soon be calling for copy,
and the proposed " leader " was yet unwritten.
The day was drifting on toward noon, when
the visitor at last arose, and he shook hands
heartily as he said to his new adherent:
" Thank you. I '11 see you again some day.
Stump your district. Do all you can for good
organization. We shall win yet. You may
be sure of that. Such a cause as ours cannot
fail." " I believe that ! " almost shouted the young
man. " But, Mr. Lincoln, it's an awful up-hill
tramp, just now."
" The top o' the hill is nearer to climb than
some folks think it is."
Out he went, and the printer was about to

A COUNTRY POLITICIAN 19
ascend the stairs when the doctor stepped in
through a door from the dry -goods store.
" Hollo ! " he inquired. " Is Old Abe gone ?
I reckon you did n't manage to make much out
of him. He 's kind o' played out, he is. We 've
got to look round for somebody else to take
the lead o' things."
The editor shook his head, and went up with
out replying, for he was still under the tre
mendous fascination of the tall man's person
ality. He walked slowly to the pied job, and
began to finger it.
" So," he muttered, " that's Old Abe. I 've
heard a great deal about him, but I never saw
him before. I reckon I want to see him again.
He seems to know exactly what all our people
are made of, man by man. I 'm glad I 've had
a talk with Abraham Lincoln."

TRIAL BY SPADE

III

! E'S going to be hung ! "
"Well, he ought to be. He
killed him."
" What on earth did he kill him
for, right there in the store ? "
" He wanted his money. You see, the fellow
Avas there to buy cattle. He had lots of cash
with him. It was the easiest thing in the
world to knock him down with a spade, gather
the money, jump on a horse that was ready,
and ride away."
" But they caught him."
" That was his blunder. More men at hand
than he counted on. They had. pluck, too, and
they grappled him. Two of 'em were power
ful strong men. Now he 's going to suffer for
it. Going to 'tend the trial ? "
" Of course I am. I would n't miss it for
anything. Who 's to defend him ? "
" Nobody, as yet. They '11 'point some law
yer or other, for form's sake. That is, if he
isn't lynched first. There's right smart o'
talk, among the neighbors, of stringing him
right up." 20

A TRIAL BY SPADE 21
Everybody else, was talking about it in just
that way, and I kept my word about going
down by rail to see how that trial would turn
out. I had never seen a murder trial in all
my life, and I wanted to know how it was
done, especially in a clear case like this.
There was a crowd in the county town, just
as I knew there would be.
There were nearly as many women as men,
and some of them brought their knitting.
Quite a number were of the new kind of peo
ple from the Eastern States, but most were old
settlers that knew each other at sight. The
new people and the old sort could be told
apart by once looking at them. Every soul,
anyhow, seemed to know all about the murder,
and they were more than ready to tell what
they knew. Not any of them had seen the
murderer yet, but nobody had any pity for
him. It was so awfully wicked a thing for
him to do.
It was away down in middle Illinois, and it
is pretty hot there, sometimes, in summer. It
was hot that day, and the crowd looked red-
faced and wilted. I heard one man say that
as for him, if he was that convict, he 'd rather
be shot at once than to have to wait, and know
all the while that the rope was getting ready,
and to have to face the judge and the jury,

22 LINCOLN AT WORK
and his fellow citizens, and to hear the evi
dence closing in on him.
The courtroom was a big one, all dingy and
whittled up, and the windows were all open
to let in what air there was. Every square
foot of room for sitting and standing was oc
cupied early. They took the prisoner in at
the back door ; and then there was a buzz,
everybody trying to get a look at him. The
women all told each other what they thought
about his ferocious face.
He was a very short, stocky, common-look
ing man, and his face was quite ugly, as if
he felt savage and rebellious instead of being
meekly resigned to receive the just reward of
his crime. That told against him right away.
He was hardened, and the women in particular
had expected him to show some signs of re
pentance. So they took off their hats and
bonnets, and squared themselves to what was
coming. Not more than a dozen of the men
in that room, except the lawyers, had their
coats on. Some few of their shirts were kind
of white, but more were homespun hickory or
red flannel.
The judge was behind his desk by this time.
He was a large, heavy man, with bushy eye
brows, and he was hard and stern in the face,
like a ready-made sentence of death. The

A TRIAL BY SPADE 23
district attorney was a prime good lawyer.
He was a little pale and nervous just now, as
any fellow ought to be when he knows
that his next official duty is practically to kill
a human being. He had other good counsel
to help him do his job, though. They had vol
unteered for public spirit.
The murderer sat down in his place with
the shadows of death settling around him and
with hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him.
His counsel sat near him. He had only one, a
man from away up the State, who had offered
to come down and defend him without pay.
That was right, and a good thing for him to
do. It would make the trial go off regu
larly, and nobody could complain. It was
only fair to the murderer to give him all his
lawful chances, although, as everybody knew,
he had not any.
He was one of the tallest men you ever saw,
that lawyer. He was dressed in a thin black
suit that was not new by any means, and he
was clean-shaved. The men that watched him
closest were the jury ; but he hardly seemed to
look at them, and it made some of them sit
around uneasy. Men in a jury-box always
like to be treated with some consideration by
counsel on either side of the case. This
lawyer laughed, too, once or twice, and the

24 LINCOLN AT WORK
whole crowd felt angry when they saw him do
that, at so solemn a time, with his own client
about to be sentenced to be hanged by the
neck until he was dead.
The preliminaries were all cut short by the
judge, and then the witnesses were put upon
the stand, one by one. There were only three
of them that had actually seen the murder
done. They were all well dressed and looked
fresh. They were real " likely-looking " fel
lows, respectable and as honest as the day ;
and they all told precisely the same story, to a
hair's breadth.
The murdered man, as they had all seen, and
now minutely testified, had been stricken
down with an ordinary spade, and the deadly
weapon was produced, with blood-stains on it,
and was duly examined by the judge and by
each man of the jury. In strong hands it was
evidently a very deadly weapon, for it was
new and its steel blade was sharp.
The accused was a very muscular man, able
to strike a skull-cleaving blow. His face now
grew sullen and ferocious as he looked at the
spade and listened to the death-dealing testi
mony. The work of the district attorney and
his helpers in questioning the witnesses was
thorough, precise, and perfect. Their several
accounts were brought out to absolute agree-

A TRIAL BY SPADE 25
ment. The audience breathed more and more
freely all the while, and the women knitted
faster, and nodded at one another approvingly.
This murder had happened precisely as they all
knew that it had happened.
A bumblebee that came in at a window and
went buzzing around the head of the judge, and
then across to the jury, was of about as much
importance as would be anything the prisoner's
counsel could think up to say after all the tes
timony was in.
During all this time, moreover, he had been
taking the most curious, senseless kind of
course. He had asked a great many questions,
as his duty was, of each of the witnesses ; but
all of his questions and all the answers he
brought out had made it look a great deal as
if he had been hired to help the district at
torney convict that man. He was only driv
ing nail after nail, so to speak, into the coffin
of his unlucky client. Poor fellow, he wa,s,
after all, with nobody really trying to defend
him and not one friend in the courtroom.
The murderer was proved to be very poor,
ignorant, and of questionable moral or reli
gious character. In the middle front part of
the store had been an upright supporting post,
and by this the cattle-buyer had been standing
at the moment when he was cut down. One

26 LINCOLN AT WORK
of the witnesses had been behind the counter
on the right ; another, behind the counter on
the left ; the third had been in the front door
way. The striker had stood back by another
similar post, against which a stack of new
spades had been leaning. One of these he had
taken up and had used to do the killing with.
The counsel for the defence, to do him
justice, had at least taken the pains to visit
the country store. He had taken closely care
ful measurements with a tape line which he
now took out of his pocket and showed to the
jury. To all these measurements he had ob
tained the sworn testimony of the three chief
witnesses and of two other men. He made
them almost tediously accurate. With his
help, therefore, the net of convicting evidence
was at last complete, and his client was all
tangled up hopelessly in it. The audience, too,
felt that they and the jury were in the net ;
and they were entirely satisfied.
" What will he, can he, have to say ? " they
whispered one to another ; but the women
stopped their knitting when the district at
torney arose to sum up, and a very curious,
unaccountable change took place in the face
of the judge. He actually smiled and fanned
himself, and looked half-way comfortable.
The summing-up was eloquent and able, and

A TRIAL BY SPADE 27
the district attorney sat down at last a very
much admired and popular lawyer.
Now came the time for the murderer's
counsel to finish his work of giving up his
client to sure justice. Of course, it was to be
expected that he would make a big appeal for
mercy and try to stir up the humane feelings
of the jury ; but he could see by the set look
on their faces that they were not exactly that
kind of men. It was not going to be of any
use. He stood up, and he was by all odds
the tallest man in the room. Now he made
his short client stand up by him, and the man's
head came only to his shoulder. He took the
spade itself and held it against the murderer's
side, as if he were carefully comparing their
lengths. Just then I could hear a whisper away
across the room, by the door, . it was so
still. " Something's coming, now ! He is al
ways great before a jury ! "
The gaze with which that poor, doomed
fellow looked up into the face of his defender
just then was awfully sad and earnest and kind
of pleading. His lips quivered, too ; but they
grew firm again and a sort of faith and hope
began to dawn in his eyes. He sat down, and
the tape line came out of his lawyer's pocket
again. He began to talk to the jury in a

28 LINCOLN AT WORK
familiar, neighborly way, as if they all knew
him and he knew all of them. He went on,
then, with a dull, prosy reiteration of the
testimony, now and then stooping down and
measuring with his tape line upon the floor.
He described with accurate details the
counters and the other furniture and the
general contents of that country store. He
made us see and fix in our minds the exact
places occupied by each and every one of the
human beings who had been in it at the mo
ment when the spade came cleaving down
upon the head of the cattle-buyer. The court
room and everything in that had somehow
vanished, and we were all in the store, stand
ing around and seeing the murder done. It
grew awfully vivid and exciting, and some of
the women were almost ready to scream when
the hit actually came ; for noAV the spade was
up in the air at the end of the tall lawyer's
very long arm, and he was about to kill the
cattle-buyer, there where he stood.
" Gentlemen of the jury," he suddenly ex
claimed, " by the sworn testimony of all these
witnesses, each man of them parroting the
same story, the murdered man stood exactly
there ! The murderer stood precisely here ! "
He struck furiously with the spade, as far as
he could reach, and its point was buried in

A TRIAL BY SPADE

29

the floor less than half-way between those
two supporting posts. We could just see
them and the men that stood by each of
them. " Gentlemen of the jury," he shouted, " my
client is a short man. I am a tall man. I

Drawn by Victor A. Scarles.
"NOW THE SPADE WAS UP IN THE AI*."

could not have done it. He could not have
done it. He did not do it ! Somebody else did
it, then and there."
Clear, ringing, fiercely angry, was his last
triumphant declaration. He threw the spade,
loudly clanging, down upon the floor; and,

30 LINCOLN AT WORK
as he sat down in his chair, the judge himself
all but laughed aloud and the jury looked
happy. It appeared as if they were rather
glad, after all, to see their way to give a ver
dict of not guilty, without leaving the jury-
box. I do not remember what afterward became
of the case. That defence, however, was a
pretty good example of Abraham Lincoln's
way of getting hold of the minds of men and
bringing them around to see the truth of any
matter he was arguing.
Only a few years after that, he had the
whole country for a courtroom. He won his
case, too, but it was the last he ever tried, and
to this day we all see that Union matter exactly
as he did.

*HE undulating plain to which the
early French explorers gave the
name of Grand Prairie began some
where in Indiana, and extended
westward nearly to the Mississippi River.
Many a long year ago, I was one day riding
over the central part of this plain, as yet un
broken by any ploughing. The road I was
following was an old buffalo-path, and the tall
grass on each side was dry and yellow under the
bright November sunshine. The weather had
been calm, but a wind from the north was rising.
I was a smoker then, and I reined in my
horse to light a cigar. The match I lighted
was a long-legged, blue-headed fellow ; and, as
the Havana kindled, I dropped the lucif er with
out thinking of first extinguishing it. Near
my horse's hoofs, however, was a dense bunch
of dry grass and rosinweeds, very much as if
it had been put there to receive that match.
" I will give him a rest," I thought, and the
animal was willing, but in a moment more he
snorted and stepped quickly away.
31

32 LINCOLN AT WORK
It was not the wind which had startled him,
although that had suddenly blown a stronger
breath, as if it were promising a gale. A puff
of black smoke, and out of the smoke a tongue
of angry fire sprung up from the combustible
vegetation, and the horse turned his head and
whinnied his surprise as % he stared at that
blaze. Higher rose the wind; and swiftly
awa}r, spreading to right and left, flashed the
fierce red line of the rising conflagration. In
a few minutes more it was bounding off
southward, uncontrollably. On the short grass
rolls of the prairie it swept like a fiery mow
ing-machine, and in the deep hollows and dry
sloughs, where the blue grass and rosinweeds
were tall and densely grown, it sprung into the
air four fathoms high, with a loud, triumphant
roar. It would die out only away off yonder,
against some watercourse, perhaps leaving
nothing unburned behind it.
Now, I was not the inventor or creator of
the dry grass, the north wind, or the lucifer
match ; and there would have been no prairie
fire at ail if everything had not been made
ready beforehand without me. This is pre
cisely the way in which Abraham Lincoln ob
tained his first nomination for President of the
United States. There were then, and have
been even in recent days, individuals and

VERY DRY GRASS 33
cliques and "committees" aspiring to fame,
who have modestly claimed the honor of hav
ing discovered Mr. Lincoln and secured for
him his opportunity at Chicago.
The political fact is, that, when the Repub
lican National Convention came together in
that city in 1860, only one question seemed to
be before it, after manufacturing the party
platforms. This was, Shall the candidate be
from the East or from the West ? If from the
former, it must be Mr. Seward ; and that as
surance gave at once to a Western choice all
the many Eastern jealousies which his splendid
career had there aroused against him. The
question therefore was practically settled be
fore a ballot was taken. The preliminary
complimentary ballotings were as if the East
did but honor Mr. Seward while inviting the
West to name its own candidate. He was al
ready named, not by the prominent politicians,
or any man of them, but by the people at
large, speaking for themselves through what is
called the country press, — the rural journals,
not the great city dailies.
There were at that time in Illinois, then the
pivotal State of the West, two men who dur
ing many years and through successive political
contests had grown to be the unquestioned
representatives of their respective parties.

34 LINCOLN AT WORK
Stephen A. Douglas was " The Little Giant "
of the Democracy, and his fame and power
had long since become national. He, indeed,
had a party of his own, and had so far out
grown the old pro-slavery conservatism that it
was already rebelling against him. Abraham
Lincoln, the acknowledged leader of the Whigs,
was in like manner outgrowing his party, and
was even to leave a large part of it behind
him. He was known to be adopting ideas and
assuming a position which would enable a new
party, drawn from both of the old, to rally
around him.
All readers of political history need only to
refresh their memories a little as to the really
wonderful character of the Lincoln-Douglas
stump debates in the Illinois campaign of
1858. When these were ended, Mr. Lincoln's
already established rank in the West had be
come recognized by the entire country. When
we pass from these debates to the recorded
impression make by Mr. Lincoln's great speech
at Cooper Institute in New York City, Feb
ruary 27, 1860, an inquiry instantly suggests
itself. Why did so vast a concourse of the
best citizens of New York and New England
gather to hear for the first time an entirely
new man ? Why did they look at him and
listen with such intense interest, saying to one

VERY DRY GRASS 35
another, " This is our probable candidate for
president of the United States " ? The reason
was not as yet altogether clearly understood
or acknowledged by themselves, certainly not
finally accepted by the friends of other emi
nent Republican statesmen, East or West.
Nevertheless, it was because the people of the
Mississippi valley had already nominated Mr.
Lincoln, in so plain-spoken and unanimous a
fashion that their decision could not possibly
be set aside. So powerful was the impression
which they had made that Mr. Lincoln's
Cooper Institute speech took upon itself some
what of the character of a prefatory inaugural
address. A lighted match had long since been dropped
into an immense field of combustible thought
and feeling, and a strong north wind had been
blowing the kindled fire. The Central Illinois
Gazette was a weekly journal of large circu
lation, printed at the young town of West
Urbana, afterward named Champaign, in Mr.
Lincoln's own judicial district, the eighth, of
Illinois. It was mainly owned by a well-
known physician of that place, an enthusi
astic anti-slavery man ; and its sole editor was
a young man who had grown up in New York
as a disciple of Mr. Seward. ' I had, however,
worked under Mr. Lincoln, both as editor and

36 LINCOLN AT WORK
stump speaker, through the memorable cam
paign of 1858. I had acquired great admira
tion for him without at all as yet understand
ing what manner of man he might be. It has
since appeared that all his other friends, espe
cially his very best and most intimate friends,
had advanced to a somewhat similar position
regarding him. I had been, however, a curious
student of notable men from childhood, and
had been led to make mental analyses of
quite a large number of them on actual sight
and hearing.
Champaign was then little more than the
rail way -station half of the very old settlement
of Urbana, the " county town." In the early
spring of 1859, Mr. Lincoln came, as usual, to
attend to his law cases before the county
court. He took rooms at the railway hotel,
the Doane House, where I was then boarding.
One day, the doctor and I had a contro
versy, and almost a collision, as to the political
course which the Gazette should henceforth
take, the especial point being the name of our
presidential candidate. I was not ready to
name anybody, and he was ; but Mr. Lincoln
had not been spoken of by either of us.
Neither had he as yet been mentioned by
anybody else ; and no other journal, large or
small, had printed so much as a paragraph sug-

VERY DRY GRASS 37
gesting his candidacy. If any political leader
had thought of him, he had prudently con
cealed what may be termed his first suspicions.
Very early, the next morning after my com
bat with the doctor, Mr. Lincoln went to the
post-office for his mail. He came back with
his tall stovepipe hat as nearly full as it must
sometimes have been in the days when he was
postmaster of Salem, and had no other place
from which to distribute the correspondence
of that very small city. It may well have
been the same hat, so far as any appearance
of fashion or newness was concerned. The
morning was chilly, and a fire was burning in
the huge " egg stove " in the middle of the
hotel office. He picked up a much-whittled
wooden armchair, and drew it in front of the
stove. He sat down, put his feet on the hearth,
tipped back the chair, lodged his hat between
his knees, and began to open and read his
letters. While he was thus employed, already ab
sorbed, paying no attention to anybody or
anything else, I came out from my breakfast
in the hotel dining-room adjoining the office.
No other soul was here but Mr. Lincoln ; and
at first, as a matter of course, I was about to
speak to him. My head, however, was at the
moment full of my controversy soon to be re-

38 LINCOLN AT WORK
newed with my business partner, for such the
doctor was ; and I paused at the office desk
for the reader to finish the paper just then in
his hand.
The next instant, I myself became deeply
interested in that letter. It seemed to be
composed of several wide pages of closely
written, black-lettered, crabbed handwriting ;
and it made Mr. Lincoln throw his head back
and shut his eyes, as if to keep the world out
while he was thinking. An expression grew
in his dark, strongly marked features that I
had never seen there before. Perhaps nobody
else had ever seen quite so much. His eyes
opened once or twice, but not to see anything
in that room. It was rather as if he was look
ing across the Atlantic Ocean or into futurity.
They closed again, and the blood went out of
his face, leaving it livid, sallow, and gloomy as
night. I watched him, struck with sudden
astonishment, until the color came back like a
swift return of departed life. It was as if a
great fire had been kindled in a human light
house ; all his soul was aflame, and his face
was but a window glowing with radiance that
made it brilliant. Never yet had I seen any
thing like that upon the countenance of a hu
man being, and the conviction came flashing
into my mind: "That's the greatest man

VERY DRY GRASS

39

you ever saw. Yes, sir! That's a great
man ! "
I had no longer any idea of saying anything
to Mr. Lincoln, however, and I very silently
slipped out of the Doane House. From there,

"All his soul was aflame."
without pausing to consult with anybody, I
hurried to the Gazette office. The doctor had
arrived before me, and was sitting at his own
table, measuring out powders with a spoon.
" Doctor ! " I said, with much energy, " I 've

40 LINCOLN AT WORK
made up my mind for whom we're going to go
for president ! "
" You don't say ! Who is it ? "
" Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois ! "
The spoon dropped, spilling some powders.
" What ? Old Abe ? Nonsense ! We might
go for him for vice-president. He '11 never do
for any more'n that. Seward and Lincoln
would n't be a bad ticket. Who on earth put
that into your head ? "
" He did ! " I shouted. " 'T is of no use,
Doctor. Lincoln 's the man ! I '11 get off this
number of the Gazette, and then I'm off to
Springfield and Bloomington, to get materials
for a campaign-life editorial."
The doctor disputed ; but he yielded, as was
somewhat customary in that office. That
number of the Gazette was turned off, and I
went to Springfield and Bloomington. The
needed information was obtained from Mr.
Herndon, Mr. Leonard Swett, and others, and
the editorial was printed. As I remember, it
was only abouttwo columns in length ; but an
experiment was tried with it. The Gazette's
regular exchange list wras large, but hundreds
of extra copies of that next issue were sent all
over the West, and went to many Eastern
journals. The return mails in due succession brought

VERY DRY GRASS 41
a great and complete surprise. Almost all of
the country papers, and some of the city
dailies, to wrhich the marked Gazette had been
sent gave it special notice of a favorable
character, more or less pronounced. A great
number of them reprinted the editorial in
wrhole or in part, and scores of them at once
put Mr. Lincoln's name at the head of their
columns. The match, small as it was, had
been thrown into very dry grass, and the gale
was rising rapidly. When, shortly afterward,
some of the managing politicians awoke and
looked out of their windows, they saw the en
tire West kindling, without any help what
ever, for the nomination of Abraham Lincoln.
Nobody anywhere deserved any particular
credit for recognizing an established fact, and
the fire in due time swept over the entire
country.

oriraite of ICtftco1

^»HEEE are portraits, and yet, in a
meaning which we may well wish
the term to have, there are no por
traits. There are only imperfect
resemblances or likenesses. No two men ever
saw the same landscape or even the same tree,
nor did any man ever see the same landscape
twice. Nothing, it is said, can be more accurate
than a really good photograph. Perhaps it is
so, but nothing else can be more unsatisfactory,
unless it may be the next absolutely perfect
sun-picture of the same subject. The process
and its results are mechanical, material ; and
the best that was ever obtained by them was
a good representation of the man or woman,
for instance,'at one moment of time and under
given conditions. The picture will preserve
only an external expression which was upon
the face before the camera, and this is indeed
a great deal.
The portrait-painter, the very best, brings
out upon his canvas nothing more than his
42

PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 43
own general perception, shallow or deep, as
the case may be.
On my wall yonder hangs a very rare, im
perial-size photographic print of Mr. Lincoln,
one of about half a dozen that were copied,
enlarged, from a Brady negative ; and then
the original plate and all other copies were
destroyed by fire. Mr. Lincoln was evidently
thinking of something else while Mr. Brady
was aiming at him ; and therefore the result
was excellent, the best with which I am ac
quainted. There may be others as good, each
of them giving a variation belonging to an
other moment of time. If all, of every name
and time, were gathered by some patriotic col
lector and arranged in a good light together,
any one who knew Mr. Lincoln very well
might pass along the line from one to another,
complimenting each in turn, yet still hunting
in vain for something in his memory, some
thing he had at some time noted as he looked
into the living face.
Do you say that this is only the reiteration,
the application, of a well-known general truth
or principle of art ?
No doubt you are right, but it sometimes
seems a cause for regret that future students
of American history may not know the great
President better by means of some presentation

44 LINCOLN AT WORK
of his face as it appeared when his soul was
hard at work and his brain was on fire. No
artist has ever caught that expression, and the
same is true, indeed, of a host of other historic
ally notable faces.
Do you ask me, by way of illustration,
what particular moment or occasion brought
out that which I so much wish had been pre
served ?
I was thinking of that. I studied his face
during his delivery of his first inaugural ad
dress, at the eastern front of the Capitol at
Washington. I had waited during several
hours, with the vast throngs growing and
surging behind me, while I clung vigorously
to the position I had preempted in the front
line below, to be as near as possible. Every
change of his intensely earnest features, as he
spoke so eloquently to his countrymen and to
all the world, would have been worth preserv
ing. Even memory cannot keep them all,
however, and I know what the portrait-paint
ers mean by their doctrine of striking an aver
age and melting all of a man's many faces into
one, — a kind of facial composite.
I can remember other notable occasions, but
they were not connected with national circum
stances to such a degree or in such a manner
as was the inaugural address. That is, with

PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 45
one exception. Not so very long after that I
saw upon Mr. Lincoln's face something which
even a photographic artist might have pre
served if he and his camera had been there
ready for instantaneous action and without
the knowledge of Mr. Lincoln.
Do you remember the Sumter gun, the first
cannon fired at the Union by the Confederacy,
fired in the harbor of Charleston, S. O, against
Fort Sumter ?
Probably you did not hear it. Even if you
did, you were not prepared for it beforehand,
and did not know what it meant. Its awful
meaning may now be condensed into a very
few words. The President and his advisers
had done all in their power to prevent the
coming of the Civil War, but their efforts had
failed. The war had come in spite of them,
and its public announcement was to begin at
Charleston, by the cannon which thundered
and the shot that struck at half- past four
o'clock on the morning of April 12, 1861.
The bombardment of the fort began with
that firing, but the news of it did not reach
Washington until many hours later. The fall
of the fort was not known there until late on
Sunday, the fourteenth, but the ink was al
ready dry upon the President's proclamation
calling the Union to arms. This went out to

46 LINCOLN AT WORK
the country, by mail and telegraph, on Sun
day, but bore date, of course, as of the fif
teenth, Monday.
During a number of days before that date I
had not once been at the White House. I had
official duties elsewhere; and all my spare
hours, at least, had been spent in drilling with
a " crack company," the National Rifles, after
ward known as Company A in a battalion of
United States Volunteers. I had now, how
ever, an errand of my own to Mr. Lincoln;
and I went to perform it very early on the
morning of April 12. I had a favor to ask,
and I knew that it might be almost impossible
to get at him after the strong tide of his daily
office-seekers and other visitors began to rise.
I reached the White House, and my latch:key
let me in, so that I could go up-stairs and lie
in wait to catch him whenever he might come
over from his breakfast in the residence part
of the building.
The great central hall on the second floor
extends from east to west along the entire
length of the White House. It is cut off at
each wing by very wide folding doors. I
posted myself inside of the eastern doors, and
walked up and down the hall and in and out
of the library. I was standing in the hall, op
posite the library door, when the western fold-

PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 47
ing doors came suddenly open. They were
left so, for Mr. Lincoln did not turn to close
them behind him.
Better than any other man at the North,
probably, he knew precisely how things were
going on at Charleston. He also knew what
the consequences must be, and that he must
soon put his signature to the war proclamation
already lying in his writing-desk in his office
over yonder.
He came through the doorway very slowly,
a step at a time, leaning forward, seeming al
most to stagger as he came. Slowly, heavily,
he came onward into the hall, giving very
much the impression of a man who is walking
in his sleep in some vague and terrible dream.
It was no dream to him, although it may have
been a prophetic foresight, a statesman's olear
vision, of the bloody battle-fields and awful
desolations which were so soon to come.
Whatever they might be, he must himself ap
pear to take the responsibility of them for all
time. His strongly marked, resolute features wore
a drawn and gloomy look, and there were dark
patches under his deeply sunken eyes. These,
too, were not looking at me, nor were they
seeing anything else in the broad hallway or
the further passage. They were intensely gaz-

48 LINCOLN AT WORK
ing at something far away, — in the future, it
might be, — and he paused for a moment in the
attitude of one who is listening.
The artist and his camera should have been
ready just then to take a priceless portrait of
Abraham Lincoln. My own mind and memory
were taking one indelibly, for I stood stock-still
a few feet in front of him. As he turned his
head, I ventured to say, " Good morning, Mr.
Lincoln." No word came back at once, although the
far-away look in his face was now levelled at
my own. His expression did not change, and
I was almost alarmed. What could this
mean ?
" Why, Mr. Lincoln ! You don't seem to
know me ! "
"£) yes, I do," he replied, with a long-
drawn sigh of utter weariness. " You are Stod
dard. What is it ? "
" I wish to ask a favor."
Now he awoke somewhat, and his lips pursed
a little impatiently. He was being driven al
most to death just then by people who came
to him to ask favors.
" Well, well, what is it ? "
" It 's just this, Mr. Lincoln : I believe there
is going to be fighting pretty soon, right here,
and I don't feel like sitting at a desk, writing,

PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 49
while any fight is going on. I 've been drilling
and serving guard duty with a company al
ready ; and, if it 's ordered on duty, I want to
go with it."
"Well, well," he cut me short, while his
gloomy face brightened splendidly, " why
don't you go ? "
" Why, Mr. Lincoln, only a few days ago I
took a pretty big oath that puts me under
your orders ; and now I 'm likely to be asked
to take another oath to obey somebody else.
I don't see how I can manage them both with
out your permission. I may be ordered to
service outside of the District of Columbia."
The President seemed to see something al
most comical in my petition, for a half -laugh
was taking shape on his countenance.
" Go ahead ! Go ahead ! " he said to me.
" Swear in ! Go wherever you are ordered to
go!" " That 's all I want, Mr. Lincoln."
I remember feeling greatly relieved, for I
was a young fellow then, and tremendously in
awe of the President. It was so kindly a
thing for him to do, you know ; and I was
turning away, when he called me back in a
voice that had in it a curious kind of feeling.
" Young man," he said, " go just where you
are ordered. Do your duty," and he added

50 LINCOLN AT WORK
other words that are not at all likely to be for
gotten. Very quickly I was out in the open air,
thinking more about him than about anything
or anybody else ; but the one thing I did not
know came to my mind before Sunday, — Mr.
Lincoln had been listening for the Sumter gun
that morning. I saw him at about eight
o'clock, three and a half hours after it was
fired. Had he actually heard it, do you sup
pose, at that distance ? Or was he only so sure
of its firing that he was going over to his of
fice to call out the militia and the volunteers
and send the ships to sea? At all events, no
portrait-painter ever had a better opportunity
to do something famous than one would have
who could transfer to canvas the weird, lost,
all but ghastly, expression, through which,
nevertheless, a strange fire of courage and
determination was blazing, as the President
paused in the dim hallway, gazing southward.
My company of volunteers, with a first-rate
West Point captain to handle it, was sworn in
on Monday morning, early. It was the very
first company of volunteers sworn in any
where ; and I went off to do soldier duty with
it for three months, taking occasional fur
loughs for brief visits to the White House. I
had obtained, however, on that Sumter-gun

PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 51
morning, the first and only favor, with one ex
ception much like it, that I ever asked of
Abraham Lincoln.
Do you ask me whether I can think of any
other portrait which might equal that one ?
I have thought of two or three which might
well hang beside it in the great gallery of a
nation's loving memory, but who shall paint
them now ? It is of no use to talk about them.
The best we can do is to study the likenesses
we have, with our eyes shut, striving to look
through them and beyond them.

i HAT'S this ? Have the office-seek
ers been disorderly ? That 's a
new one, but the other panes in
that sash look as if they had been
there since the house was built."
General Leavenworth and I were standing
by the window, and the room was almost
thronged with men of distinction, legislators,
army men, and others who were waiting there
their turns to see the President. He and sev
eral members of his cabinet were in his own
reception-room adjoining.
The window was one which looked south
ward, toward the Potomac, and across the
river the first camps of the Union army were
forming, and the first forts for the protection
of the city of Washington were rapidly con
structing. The Civil War had but just begun,
and it was something very terribly new to us
all. The pane of glass to which the general
called my attention had been put in so recently
that the putty-marks of the glazier's work had
not yet been cleaned away. It was therefore
52

A FORGOTTEN HERO 53
a new pane, and was really noticeable among
the old ones, for almost everything about the
Executive Mansion in those days carried upon
its face a worn-out and ancient character.
" General," I replied, after looking at it for
a moment, " I think I will tell you the story
that belongs to the breaking of that pane of
glass. Did you ever know Colonel Ellsworth,
of the Ellsworth Zouaves ? "
" No," said the general, " I never even saw
him ; but I attended his funeral in this house,
in the East Room last week. Wonderfully
solemn affair. The whole nation regrets his
death. - His was to me a very strange fate. So
splendid a young fellow. So full of promise.
It was sad to think of his dying as he did, on
the very threshold of this horrible war. He
seemed to die so uselessly, too."
" Yes," I said, " his was the first blood to be
shed when our army marched into Virginia.
A good many more must die before long, on
both sides. I was with my own company that
night, over yonder. We were the first battal
ion to cross the Potomac, by the Long Bridge.
I served as a scout in the advance."
"I wish I had been there," he said. "I
wish I might be in the first battle that is to be
fought. What has that and what has Ells
worth's death to do with the smashing of this

54 LINCOLN AT WORK
pane of glass ? Who broke it, and what did
he do it for ? "
"Ellsworth himself broke it," I told him.
" Just one week ago to-day. He did it with
that rifle that stands in the corner yonder."
" How was it ? " exclaimed the general and
others who had drawn nearer.
" This is not my room," I said ; " it is Mr.
Nicolay's and John Hay's. I do hot belong
here. My desk is in the northeast room,
across the hall. Last Sunday morning I ob
tained a few hours of leave of absence from
Major Smead of our battalion, and I came here
to get the news and find out how things were
going on. When I got here, the house was as
good as empty. The President and Mrs. Lin
coln were at church. The two private secre
taries, Nicolay and Hay, were away some
where. Even Willie and little Tad were said
to be at church. It was a hot day, but the
house seemed dark and gloomy. It's a blue
time, anyway. I waited, for I was anxious to
see somebody and have something to tell the
boys. " I came into this room, and I stood about
where I am standing now, looking at the flags
over yonder, across the river. I heard a kind
of hurrah behind me; and, when I swung
around, there was Ellsworth. He was almost

A FORGOTTEN HERO 55
like a member of the President's own family.
He was in from camp after news, just as I was,
and to see the White House people. He was
the noisiest, merriest, liveliest, and one of the
handsomest young fellows I can think of. He
was full of fun and fire and animation. Be
sides his tremendous physical energy, he was
boiling over with ambition and patriotism, and
he was a keen thinker. I had an idea that he
would soon be a general and have command of
one of the Union armies. I knew that he
fully expected such a result himself. We went
on into all sorts of war talk, for it was ex
pected that Virginia would secede in three
days and bring the new Confederacy one State
nearer Washington and the Potomac. Close
upon the heels of that would surely come im
portant movements, and we expected to have
our parts in them.
" Something or other led Ellsworth to go
and pick up that rifle. It is one of the new
patterns. He was a perfect drill-master and
a kind of machine for accuracy in the Zouave
manual of arms. It was a genuine pleasure
for me to put him through the manual, and
watch the wonderful exactness of his every
movement. In obedience to my orders he
stepped around here and there, and I had him
facing this window, very near it, when I said,

56

LINCOLN AT WORK

' Aim ! ' Up came the rifle mechanically, and
the muzzle went crashing through that pane of
glass."

"The muzzle went crashing through that pane."
" I declare ! " exclaimed General Leaven
worth. " I do n't know why I had any curios
ity about it. What did you boys have to say

A FORGOTTEN HERO 57
about your carrying on, when the President
found his window broken ? "
" He did n't say anything. We had no
chance to explain to him," I replied. " Do you
remember how it was said they meant to mur
der Mr. Lincoln at Baltimore, when he came
on to be inaugurated ? "
" It 's my opinion that they came very near
doing it, too," said the general. " I 've heard
of other plans and plots. The fact is, I be
lieve he is in danger all the while. He will be
assassinated some day."
" There are a good many who think so," I
told him. " We feel more than a little anxiety
about it. If he were to be murdered just
now, everything would go all to pieces. It
would murder the Union itself."
" Just so ! Just so ! " exclaimed he. " But
what has that to do with Ellsworth and his
rifle and the pane of glass ? "
" Well, nothing in particular," I said ; " but
he tried to cook up a yarn about some fellow
hiding in the shrubbery down there. It was a
lurking assassin who mistook one of us for Mr.
Lincoln, and blazed away. The bullet missed
the President, and only smashed the glass."
" I did n't hear of any such story," he inter
rupted doubtfully. " It did n't get out, or it
would have been in the newspapers."

58 LINCOLN AT WORK
"Of course it would," said I; " but it hadn't
a chance to get out. Ellsworth broke down
the first time he tried to tell it. He couldn't
keep his face straight long enough to humbug
anybody. There was too much laugh in him.
He went back to his camp, and I went to mine.
" It 's only a week ago. I can hardly believe
that he is gone, shot in that old Alexandria
tavern for pulling down a Confederate flag. I
don't like to think of it, that I shall never see his
pleasant face or hear his ringing laugh again."
" My dear fellow," responded Leavenworth,
"so will thousands upon thousands have to
say before a great while. This is to be a long
war and bloody. He will be forgotten pretty
soon, for there will be so many other dead
heroes." So he and I, for we were old friends, talked
on for a while, and then I got away to my
soldier comrade, taking with me whatever
news I had gathered.
It was long before I was again a regular
worker at my desk in the White House. I
forgot all about Ellsworth's pane of glass
until one day, after Grant became president,
I saw it there, and the old story came back to
me. I was thinking of it when a summons
came from President Grant to meet him in the
library. Very likely the unmarked pane is in

A FORGOTTEN HERO 59
the window yet ; but, if the glass is gone, the
lesson of it has not departed.
The mark of Ellsworth's blood upon the
threshold of the Civil War has with it a kind
of interrogation point. What is it that is
worth the blood of men ? What is it that
may justly call for the sacrifice of life ?
There are such things. The Union was a
treasure worth dying for. The breaking up
of the awful tyranny of Spain in the West
Indies was of the full value of the precious
blood that was shed. The history of those
islands will forever witness that our brave
boys were not thrown away upon a causeless
war. They did not die in vain.
Those who were in active life during the
Civil War saw our volunteers march to the
front, year after year, " three hundred thou
sand more," from call to call, to pay the price
which was demanded for the nation's life. Our
Southern brethren passed through a similar
experience. The dead who bravely, unselfishly
gave up their lives were very many. Never
theless, as General Leavenworth predicted,
Ellsworth is almost forgotten, and in this he
becomes also a type and representative of hun
dreds of thousands of all the unnamed heroes
so eloquently described by Mr. Lincoln him
self in his Gettysburg speech.

OOttt

'O me there is no other such window
in America as this ; for at that
desk right here all the presidents
of the United States, since the days
of John Adams, have written or signed their
great state papers, vetoes, messages to Con
gress, and declarations of war or peace. Do
you notice that, sitting at that desk, you may
look out toward the South ? The Emancipa
tion Proclamation was written there. I re
member when the original draft of that his
toric document was brought over from this
desk to mjr own table that I might make the
first copies of it. You can imagine how my
fingers tingled and how the perceptions of
its tremendous consequences came pouring
through my brain. Not many days later,
all the nation Avas tingling, and Europe also,
while a new life began for our millions of
freedmen. Down yonder is the Potomac, and the high
ground beyond is Arlington Heights ; and over
that white residence that crowns them a Con-
60

THE DARK WORK-ROOM 61
federate flag was floating in the spring of
1861 until the very hour when the first Union
army marched across Long Bridge, whicn you
can see from here. The Marine Band in their
scarlet uniforms are playing in the grounds to
day, and there are groups of listeners and
strollers everywhere among the walks and
shrubbery. It is really brilliant out-of-doors
this pleasant day in summer, but somehow it
seems dark in this workroom of the presidents.
Mr. Lincoln has gone over to the Avar office
to read the despatches from General Grant at
Vicksburg and from General Meade aAvay up
in Maryland. Lee is over the border, and a
great battle is to be fought within a few days.
Nobody knows beforehand what will be the
result of a great battle. The only certain
thing is that a great many thousands of men
who are marching vigorously to-day, or talk
ing and laughing at their halting-places, will
be stark and cold in a week. Thousands more
will be suffering and groaning in the hospitals,
and I sometimes almost believe that the Presi
dent hears them and suffers with them. He
has to make an effort, I know, not to think of
it, or of the mourning mothers and wives and
children in so many homes. He will be back
here pretty soon, but you will have time to
look around you.

62 LINCOLN AT WORK
All the furniture is plain and old-fashioned.
That long table in the middle is the cabinet
council-table, and any number of notable men
have sat around it, discussing the affairs of the
nation and of the world. The spring-roller
maps over there in that tall rack are very con
venient for the study of all the military dis
tricts ; but here on the President's writing-
desk is one that he makes more use of. To
day it is a map, two feet square, of West Vir
ginia, upper Maryland, and part of Penn
sylvania. The little tacks with different-
colored sealing-wax heads that are stuck all
over it are to enable him to mark and follow
the positions of the several parts of both
armies. I do not know why so many pins of
both colors are stuck so closely in the neigh
borhood of the village of Gettysburg. We
have no forts there, and the place itself is of
no manner of importance. It has no history.
The President sits here, noAV and then, until
late at night, Avorking Avith these pins ; and
sometimes the blue-headed pins have had to
be moved back unpleasantly or pulled out al
together. No American president has had as
yet much reason for studying maps of the Old
World. We have no army posts outside of
the boundaries of the United States ; but Ave
may have some day, for our frontiers have

THE DARK WORK-ROOM

63

been pushed forward wonderfully since they
Avere first half-surveyed, westward, northwest
ward, and southward.
" Late at night ? " did you ask ? " What are
Mr. Lincoln's hours of labor ? " All the hours
betAveen sleep and sleep, I should say ; and the
bedtime hours are a kind of candle that burns

The President and the Pins.
at both ends. Sometimes, when I have had to
come to my own work unusually early, I have
looked in here and seen him already busy at
something or other. More than once, when I
went away very late at night, the light in his
room Avas still burning. He may not have
been at Avork exactly, for I remember some
nights when all he did was to walk up and

64 LINCOLN AT WORK
down the room. For all I know, however, he
may even then have been thinking about some
thing or other, or suffering.
One reason why there cannot be any regu
larity about the President's working arrange
ments is the number and kind of the other
Avorkshops and workmen. A mile away on
Capitol Hill is one tremendous concern, and
the President is a working member of both
the Senate and the House of Representatives.
Every great newspaper seems to consider him
its Washington correspondent and news-pur
veyor. All around here, close at hand, are the
others. The treasury does not trouble him
so very much, for he does not pretend to be
a financier. The attorney-general's office is
worse ; the state department, Avith more busi
ness, gives him less anxiety, because of that
great statesman, William H. Seward. The
navy office is a part of this, and we owe Mr.
Lincoln for the Western river, tin-clad gun
boats, and for that curious innovation, the
Monitor. The war office is Avorst of all, and
has been from the beginning. It seems to
open right into this room; and all the generals
do their work under the eye of Mr. Lincoln,
but not to any extent under his directions.
He never hampers or meddles with a com-

THE DARK WORK-ROOM 65
mander in the field. If, however, he finds
any general to be too moderately successful
an experiment, he may put another man in
his place.
The sleeping-apartments of the Executive
Mansion are off there, westerly, so that the
President does not actually have to leave shop
when he goes to bed. All the reception-
rooms, large and small, are down-stairs. Even
those occasionally turn into Avorkshops, and
compel him to spend long, toilsome evenings
in shaking hands with the United States and
other countries. Hardly one of these even
ings ever passes without some energetic soul's
finding an opportunity to offer him a criticism
upon his other performances. Some of them
are kindly meant and encouraging, too.
Are there never any breaks ? Does he
never get a breathing-spell ? Yes, sometimes ;
but they are very short ones, such as they are.
I can think of a fair illustration just now.
My room is over there in the northeast cor
ner of the building, across the hall from Mr.
Nicolay's and Mr. Hay's, the private secre
taries' office. They are a terribly hard-worked
pair of young men, and Mr. Lincoln shoAved
his usual good judgment and acumen when he
picked them out for their exceedingly delicate
and responsible positions. They grew up under

66 LINCOLN AT WORK
his eye in Illinois, and he knew pretty well
what was in them.
Come over, and I '11 show you how it was.
That massive chest of drawers, the office table,
facing the door is the correspondence-desk, and
that is my chair, behind. Thomas Jefferson
was the inventor of that kind of swing-around
armchair. Between the outer end of the table
and the fireplace is a very different chair. It
is oddly designed, sloping backward, Avith a
slender mahogany frame and a leather seat
without any cushions. It is of Mexican make,
and was presented to President Jackson by
grateful citizens of our sister republic in recog
nition of his friendly course in their behalf.
It became so great a favorite with the old
hero that ever afterAvard it has been known
as " Andrew Jackson's chair." It is worth its
weight in gold, but it will one day be sent
away as old junk by the upholsterers who will
furnish the White House.
I sat behind my table here one evening, and
Mr. Nicolay sat in that other chair, a little
behind me at the left. At the fireplace, with
one elbow on the mantel, stood John Hay.
He was always the life of any place he ever
got into, and he was telling us a story of the
liveliest kind. That was a thing, too, that he
could do remarkably well ; and he had a laugh

THE DARK WORK-ROOM 67
of his own that was catching. He and I had
been alone in the room when he began to tell
that story, and at the first of its humorous
points we both broke down. That is, we both
broke out into peals of laughter, which to
some men might have seemed out of place,
not in keeping with the solemn gloom of the
White House at night, in war time. To tell
the truth, we had not supposed that there Avas
anybody else awake in this part of the build
ing. Mr. Nicolay was at his desk across the hall,
however; and he at once put down his pen
and came over to find out what was going on.
Of course the story had to begin again, and it
went on as if there were no ghosts of lost
battles stalking dismally along the shadowed
corridors of the national headquarters. The
funny point was reached a second time, and
again the peals of reckless merriment went
out to startle the proprieties, if they had been
there. "John, just tell that story over again. I
want to hear it."
The hall door had opened silently, and in
walked President Lincoln, his dark face bright
ening with a smile of relief. Down he sat,
right there, in Andrew Jackson's chair, and
stretched himself out to hear the story. For

LINCOLN AT WORK

once, you see, he had gone all the way out of
his workshop, leaAnng even his tools behind
him ; and none of the other workmen, states-

"JOHN, JUST TELL THAT STORY OVER AGAIN."
men or generals, were anywhere near. He Avas
hiding away in a sort of place of refuge, ever
so far away from councils and camps and
battle-fields.

THE DARK WORK-ROOM 69
John Hay did not stir from his post at the
mantel, and he began at the beginning, doing
it better than ever. That same first ludicrous
climax was reached, and neither of us boys
laughed more unrestrainedly than did the
President. His feet came heavily down upon
the floor, and he lay away back in Andrew
Jackson's chair. The laughter was checked at
last, and the narrative had just begun again,
when the half-closed door from the hall was
pushed open widely.
" Your Excellency, it's Mr. Seward. He's
gone into your room, sir. I think it is Mr.
Stanton, too, and a gineral with him. May
be it's Gineral Hallick, that's coming up the
stairs." There stood old Edward Moran, the
doorkeeper, rubbing his hands one over the
other and looking almost comically regretful
and apologetic. He was the last man to in
terrupt fun willingly, but his duty compelled
him. Mr. Lincoln sat still for a moment, all the
merriment first, and then the light, fading out
of his face. Then he slowly rose without say
ing a word, and Avalked out across the hall to
his workroom. It did seem as if he all but
staggered, as a man might in shouldering some
what unexpectedly, suddenly, some oppressive,
overweighting burden. We three were also

70 LINCOLN AT WORK
silent, looking at one another. Who might
guess what news of good or evil had brought
to the President's office at that hour the men
who had been announced by old EdAvard ?
The breathing-spell, the respite from pain
and toil, was at all events ended. It was of
the usual pattern, nevertheless. The story
was never finished, for Mr. Nicolay Avent back
to his own room, and Mr. Hay went with him,
and I still had Avork on my table that must be
completed before sleep.

IIwriting

\HAT'S the way, is it, that you deal
with the President's mail ? This
is shameful ! Mr. Lincoln ought
to know this ! A mere boy, too,
to be given such a responsible position ! "
He Avas a very portly old gentleman, fine-
looking and exceedingly dignified. He was,
from his appearance, such a man as might be
governor of a State, for instance, or president
of a great railway company. He had been sit
ting there, in Andrew Jackson's chair, as it
was called, near my table in the northeast room
of the White House, during a full half-hour.
He had been waiting his turn to go in for a
conference of some sort Avith the President.
A number of other visitors had been admitted
one after another ; but as yet he had not been
sent for, and even that may have irritated
him. At all events, not having anything else to
do then and there, he had been keenly watch
ing the swift, decisive processes of opening and
disposing of the Executive Mansion mail. He
had even seen the post-office messenger deliver
71

72 LINCOLN AT WORK
a full bag of it, large parcels and small, pour
ing them out upon the table before me. Then
he had seen that every envelope came open as
soon as it was reached, whether addressed to
Mr. Lincoln himself or to his wife.
It might possibly be that at some time or
other he himself had sent important communi
cations to be handled in like manner. At all
events, a great many thousands of his fellow
citizens must have done so, in utter ignorance
of this merciless business going on at the cor
respondence-table. He could feel for others,
if not for himself, and his face had grown red
with indignation while Andrew Jackson's
chair was becoming almost too small to hold
him. On either side of the secretary's chair were
tall willow- Avare Avastebaskets, and into one or
the other of these had gone a very large pro
portion of the epistles, envelopes and all, with
out note or comment, the instant that their
character was ascertained. Beyond, near the
wall, in a large and growing heap, were thrown
upon the floor all manner of newspapers and
journalistic clippings after very hurried glances
at any part of their columns marked black, red,
or blue to demand especial attention. Possibly
the old gentleman may at some time have Avrit-
ten a stunning editorial or printed an import-

WRITING TO THE PRESIDENT 73
ant letter. Upon the table itself lay an array
of large official envelopes with printed ad
dresses. Into one or another of these, every
minute or so, was thrust some document upon
which the secretary had written a brief in
dorsement, indicating some bureau or other
destination. Some of these envelopes were
already sealed now, ready to send away.
The watcher had been also watched, for he
was not by any means the first of a number of
angry critics to occupy a chair of indignant
observation in the neighborhood of those waste-
baskets. A kind of preparation had been made
for him as the letter-opening went on. A
number of writings, selected as they came to
hand, and of even exceptionally strong charac
teristics, had been laid aside like so much fixed
ammunition. Down came his feet, in a moment more, with
a thumping force, and he stood erect, glaring
at the secretary.
" I don't believe Mr. Lincoln can be at all
aware of this  "
"Sir," I said to him calmly, "will you be
good enough to examine that lot of letters for
yourself? I should be glad to have your
opinion as to whether or not the President of
the United States can turn aside from his some
what important public duties and give his time

74

LINCOLN AT WORK

to that sort of thing. I can assure you that he
is really quite busy nowadays."
The dignified old gentleman took the se
lected epistles, sat down again, and began to
read them, while I returned to my Avork with
one eye at liberty. If his face had been red

*-W~

"I DON'T BELIEVE MR. LINCOLN CAN BE AT ALL AWARE
OF THIS."

before, it was fiercely blazing now, for he was
undoubtedly a decent man and a patriot.
Abuse, scurrility, threats, utter insanities,
the brutalities, enmities, and infamies of the
President's letter-bag had been pitilessly given
him. It was too much for him, altogether.
He positively could not wade on through the
whole of that stuff. He threw it contemptu
ously upon the floor, exclaiming : " Young

WRITING TO THE PRESIDENT 75
man, you are right! No, sir. What beasts
men are! They ought to be shot or hung!
The President ought not to be bothered with
it ! Does this sort of thing go on all the
time ? "
It might be really worth while to explain
the matter somewhat, and I did so. He be
came deeply interested, and was entirely rea
sonable. He agreed Avith me that the com
mander-in-chief could not be expected to give
a personal examination to an average mail of
two hundred and fifty parcels a day, of all
sorts and sizes, many of them really weighty
bundles of documents pertaining to varied
business before the several departments.
There were other points in my defence.
The President had absolutely refused to be in
formed of letters which threatened personal
violence. I was never permitted so much as
to mention one of these, or, in fact, any other
communication which did not imperatively and
beyond all question demand his personal in
spection. Of course, when in doubt, I might
consult Mr. Nicolay or Mr. Hay. There had
been occasions,, necessarily, when I went to
him myself with seemingly unavoidable docu
ments, and once I had got myself laughed at
for the angry interest I had taken. He was,
however, about the coolest man living, so far

76 LINCOLN AT WORK
as any ordinary cause for irritation might be
concerned, and he cared absolutely nothing at
all for mere vituperations, even from high
quarters. The dignified old gentleman grew pleasanter,
even sociable, before he was summoned by a
messenger to go in and have his own turn Avith
the President ; but he had looked in upon a very
curious department of American literature.
Perhaps the first impression received by one
attempting an exhaustive analysis of that heap
of correspondence, all on one side, might relate
to the extreme simplicity of the ideas enter
tained by vast numbers of men and women as
to their right to the personal services of a man
in Mr. Lincoln's place. Here, for instance,
was a worthy soul out West, who had applied
for a patent, and would be obliged if the Pres
ident Avould step into the patent office and see
about it and hurry the matter up. Another
writer had somehow been beaten in a laAvsuit
before the courts of his locality, and Avished to
obtain advice from Mr. Lincoln as to whether
or not it would be worth while for him to
bring it before the Supreme Court.
Not a few of the letters related to asserted
remarkable improvements in guns, cannons,
and other Avar materials. Not least notable
among these, it may be, was a man in Illinois

WRITING TO THE PRESIDENT 77
Avho Avrote that he had invented a cross-eyed
gun. It had tAvo barrels which projected from
the breech at proper angles, so aiming side-
wise. He knew, he said, enough cross-eyed
men to form a regiment to be armed with
these destructive weapons. He could march
them up the Potomac, clearing out the Con
federates from both banks at once, "for, by
thunder, Mr. Lincoln, I'm cross-eyed enough
to be the colonel."
This queer fellow's proposition was quite as
A'aluable as were a great many others that
Avere urged upon the government. His tactics,
too, were as good as Avere those of a host of
army-campaign plans that were submitted. A
principal feature of most of these seemed to
be the author's idea that the Southern States
were a checker-board, and that across it, to
and fro, army corps and the like might be
jumped and landed irrespective of their sizes
and of such things as intervening mountains
and rivers, almost regardless, also, of armed
gatherings of riflemen in uniforms of gray or
butternut. A like idea lives to-day, evidently,
in the minds of countless critics of the current
military operations in the Philippines.
Here, on this inside corner of my table, lies,
one day, a letter which I can hardly make up
my mind to destroy. No, it is not especially

78 LINCOLN AT WORK
important; but I really believe Mr. Lincoln
must see it. It is a pretty long letter, too,
written clearly in a woman's hand. There are
careless ink spatters. There are several blis
tered places, as if it had been sprinkled with
hot water. The woman has lost all her sons.
They all died in battle, and she is left alone.
She is one of many American mothers, too,
very many ! But she writes to Mr. Lincoln
that she is praying for him day and night, and
for the Union. Yes, I must, I will take it in
to him myself by and by.
Did I do so ? What did he say ?
Well, I cannot remember exactly what I
said when I handed him that letter; but I
knew, like a flash, that he wanted me to get
out of his room and back to my own while he
read it alone by himself. Perhaps he saw
something wet on my face; I don't know.
He never said anything to me about it after
ward. It was only a specimen letter, after
all, for there were a great many good, brave,
praying women all over the country ; and so
the Union was preserved, although it cost them
their sons that died in battle.
The volunteer statesmen were very numer
ous, and their epistles were generally very
long. The fate of these was generally short,
owing to the handiness of the willow baskets.

WRITING TO THE PRESIDENT 79
About one-half, at least, of the varied ma
terials forwarded by mail to the executive
office was simply misdirected, in the ignorance
of the senders. It consisted of legitimate busi
ness with the government, fairly belonging to
one or another of the many bureaus of the de
partments. All these were easily referred to
their proper places, and that Avas the end of
them. The like Avas true of all the innumer
able applications of the office-seekers.
Not any too frequently, a formal acknowl
edgment of a letter's arrival seemed to be
called for ; but there Avas little time for mere
courtesies in those days, and every such reply
was a cutting off of the proposed correspond
ence. There could be, however, only small
question of the correctness of one opinion that
grew upon me. This was, that Avhenever a
man went out-and-out crazy, his first delirious
impulse told him to sit down and Avrite to Mr.
Lincoln. The name of these lunatics was Le
gion. Among them, during many months, was
a poor felloAV who wrote imperative mandates
concerning all manner of public policy, pro
fessing to dip his pen in blood, whicli looked
altogether like an inferior article of red ink,
and signing himself the Angel Gabriel. Very
numerous indeed, also, were the communica
tions, medium-wise, from the spirit world, the

80 LINCOLN AT WORK
contents whereof might go to prove, if genu
ine, that there are very badly conducted insane
asylums in the other world.
The printed matter for which a careful read
ing was requested, perhaps expected, was
simply enormous, and its perusal would have
required Mr. Lincoln to be set free from the
trammels of time.
Something like this, it may be, goes on at
the present day, with the supposable difference
that there is now less excitement, no bitter
ness, and that people generally are better in
formed. The business relations of the White
House and the departments must be better
understood. It is to be hoped that there is yet another
difference. The meanest of all the many brutes
who attempted to sting Mr. Lincoln Avrote to
him concerning his wife, or else addressed their
unmanly tirades to her in person. I wished
then that these wolves could have known, for
their consolation, how rigid was the rule with
which she forbade any envelope whatever, save
letters from her own sister, to reach her hands
without a first opening and examination by
myself. None of the poisoned arrows hit her
after the first few were shot and the rule Avas
made. She was a woman of altogether too
much intelligence and courage to be greatly an-

WRITING TO THE PRESIDENT 81
noyed by the purely satanic part of the gen
eral enmity, and she deemed it superfluous to
be informed as to what it might accomplish
with pen and paper. The paper-cutter on the
correspondence secretary's desk Avas, therefore,
a defensive weapon.

> WAY back yonder in the dark year
1861, late one evening I sat by my
table in the northeast room of the
White House at Washington. I
was hard at work with paper-knife and pen,
opening and disposing of innumerable letters
that lay in a confused heap at my elbow, for
it seemed as if all the nation Avere disposed to
.open personal correspondence with the Presi
dent. I was only a kind of human mill to
which very much such a grist was brought for
grinding several times every day. A man
would come through the door before me with
a leather mail-pouch. He would unlock the
pouch, pour out its contents on the table, and
go out again without saying a word. Then
eyery envelope had to be opened, and the fate
of whatever was in each covering was deter
mined with lightning rapidity. Much chaff,
little wheat, and a great deal of out-and-out
evil came addressed to Mr. Lincoln during all
the bitter-spirited war years.
So far as I knew, I Avas all alone upon that
floor, for the other secretaries had finished
82

THE NIGHT COUNCIL 83
their Avork and gone out. No mail-carrier Avas
due at that hour ; but the door opened, and a
man came in. He did not have any locked
pouch in his hand, but a very large leather
portfolio, such, for instance, as might be used
for holding maps and broad documents like
parchment commissions, civil or military. I
arose as he entered, for I was conscious of a
sudden wonder as to Avhat he might be doing
with that portfolio.
" Stoddard," he said, " I'm going over to
Seward's. I want you to take this and come
along with me."
Something else was said, no matter what,
and I left my heap of unfinished mail-matter
behind me.
Mr. Lincoln seemed to be in an unusually
cheerful mood, with occasional lapses into fits
of absorbing thought. One of these came
upon him at the head o*f the stairs, and there
he lingered for a moment as if he might have
forgotten something and was trying to remem
ber it. His next pause was in the porch out
side of the front door, when he discovered that
it was raining. Back he stepped, and called
to " old Edward " Moran, the doorkeeper, to
bring him his umbrella. The doorkeeper
would find it, he was assured by the comman
der-in-chief of the United States armies and

84

LINCOLN AT WORK

navies, " in the corner by my desk, near the
window." Up went Edward ; and in a few moments
more he was down again, smiling sarcastically
and rubbing his hands one over the other in a
manner that was habitual with him whenever
he had something especial to say.

' It 's not there, Your Excellency.

" It 's not there, your Excellency. I 'm
thinking the owner may have come for it."
" Go and get me another, then," commanded
the President, laughing heartily at the manner
more than the matter of Edward's drollery.
The next search for an umbrella was success
ful, although there was more spread than

THE NIGHT COUNCIL 85
splendor in the very antiquated shelter tent
that was brought by the doorkeeper. Under
its protection, nevertheless, we walked on out
of the White House grounds, and as we went
Mr. Lincoln related merrily sundry other of
Edward's comicalities.
" He has been here," he said, " since Taylor's
time. He Avas a great favorite with President
Taylor. Did you ever hear his hit upon Fill
more's carriage ? "
I replied that I had never heard it.
" Well, then, President Fillmore used to tell
it himself. Shortly after Taylor's death and
Fillmore's inauguration it was necessary for
him to procure a carriage. A gentleman that
was breaking up housekeeping had one to sell,
and Fillmore went, one day, to take a look at
it and see if it would do. He took old Edward
with him. The carriage seemed to suit well
enough ; but Fillmore turned to Edward, and
asked him, ' Edward, how will it do for the
President of the United States to ride in a
second-hand carriage ? ' Edward rubbed his
hands hard, and answered him, ' Sure, your
Excellency, you're only a second-hand presi
dent, you know.' "
Any passer-by at that moment, listening to
the anecdote and the laugh that followed
might well have supposed that somebody a

86 LINCOLN AT WORK
little belated Avas going home cheerfully, un-
oppressed by business cares and certainly not
aware of being in any shadow of personal
peril. Was there, then, at that time any danger of
violence to Mr. Lincoln ?
I do not knoAv. There may not have been
any, although there were bitter enmities
enough. Hardly a day passed without the ar
rival of threatening letters Avhich he refused
to know anything about. Neither were they
ever seen by other eyes than mine. Most of
them, doubtless, may be regarded as only the
empty expressions of brutal animosities,
whether their envelopes were addressed to the
President, or, as some of the worst of them
were, to his wife.
At all events, there were no armed guards
to be seen around the White House grounds
that rainy night. Not even a solitary sentinel
was posted to inquire the purposes of Avhoever
might come or go to or from the headquarters
of the armies of the republic.
The house then occupied by the secretary of
state was on the easterly side of Lafayette
Square, standing by itself, the second house
from the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue. It
was wide-fronted, without any basement story,
and had a central hall. On the right of this,

THE NIGHT COUNCIL 87
at the main entrance, was an ample reception-
room, into which a servant conducted us that
evening. A bright fire of logs Avas blazing in
the fireplace. In front of this was a business-
office table covered with green leather, littered
with books and papers.
The President took a chair before the fire,
and at once all the cheerfulness went out of
him. I found a chair for myself behind the
table, on which I deposited my portfolio. I
had already been informed whom we were to
meet, but not what for.
A long minute'or so went by ; and then the
hall door opened, and in walked Mr. Seward,
accompanied by Major-General John A. Dix,
then recently placed in charge of civil rather
than military affairs in Maryland and a large
adjoining territory. He was a short, slight,
handsome man, of exceedingly polished man
ners, and I, as a born New Yorker, had been
very proud of his noble conduct while a mem
ber, as secretary of the treasury, of the last
cabinet of President Buchanan. The country
owed him a debt of gratitude on that account
much more than for all the good service he
had previously rendered as governor of the
State of New York, as Senator of the United
States, or as diplomat representing the nation
in Europe.

88 LINCOLN AT WORK
As soon as my formal introduction as one
of the President's private secretaries Avas over,
I was quite willing to get back again behind
the table while these three remarkable men
sat before the fire and discussed the critical as
pect of national affairs. All my remaining
duties were occasional responses to demands
for maps and papers to be hunted for in the
portfolio. Then a sort of deep awe came upon
me as their conversation passed deliberately,
sloAvly, from point to point. Their especial
subject for consultation was the policy thence
forth to be pursued with the border States,
Maryland, Avestern and eastern Virginia,
Kentucky, eastern Tennessee, and Missouri.
It Avas a subject with which General Dix, for
some reason, was supposed to be exceptionally
familiar, and concerning Avhich he had formed
decided opinions of his own. These views, as
they were now brought out conversationally,
were found to be very nearly, but not quite, in
accord with those of the President and the
secretary of state. It was a curiously informal
and yet unspeakably important night council.
Upon the decisions made then and there
might depend the immediate future of large
populations, States, and, in proportional con
sequence, the Avelfare of the whole nation, the
outcome of the Civil War itself.

THE NIGHT COUNCIL

89

The long conference ended at last. The
maps and papers Avere restored to the portfolio.
The three great men shook hands heartily,
and Mr. Lincoln set out homeward. It Avas
raining only lightly ; but the umbrella was up,
and the President walked on under it very
slowly, as if he were thinking. Perhaps it Avas

"IT WAS A CURIOUSLY INFORMAL COUNCIL."

my State pride Avhich induced me to venture
the question, " Now, Mr. Lincoln, Avhat do
you think of General Dix ? "
He was silent for a moment.
" What do I think of him ? " he then said.
" Well ! This is the first time I ever met him ;
but from what he has said to-night, from the
advice he has given, I should say that General
Dix is a wise, a very wise man."

90 LINCOLN AT WORK
That was satisfactory, and we walked on to
the breastwork-like stone parapet of the side
walk at the northeasterly corner of the White
House. Here the President halted and stood
still, gazing southward. In that rainy, misty
gloom, it was impossible for him to see the Po
tomac or the fort-crowned heights beyond it.
There Avere dimly glimmering points of light
here and there, but all that he was staring into
was as a sort of symbol of the great darkness
which at that date had settled over the country.
Tears like rain were falling everywhere, and
the wisest as well as the bravest confessed their
utter inability to forecast the things that Avere
to come.
Not a syllable was spoken during that pro
longed, absorbed, gloomy look toAvard the
South, toward the Confederacy.
Then, moving wearily, the President turned
away to the portico, and I shut doAvn the um
brella. Old Edward had been Avatching, for
the door swung open and a stream of light
sprang out. There had been a comicality on his
lips, ready for speech ; but the old doorkeeper
looked into Mr. Lincoln's face, and all the
prepared fun died out of his own. Not toward
the household side of the mansion, but up the
other stairs to his business office, the President
led the way, as if he had yet more work to do

THE NIGHT COUNCIL 91
— if there was ever any hour Avhen he had not.
The portfolio was left upon the long cabinet-
council table, and I returned to my northeast
room ; but I did not feel like opening or read
ing any more letters. I kneAv more than I
had ever known before concerning the deadly
dangers besetting the United States, and also
much more of the deep-thinking wisdom and
patriotism by which those dangers were to be
met and' overcome. Not by clashing army
corps upon a battle-field, but by three states
men before a fireplace, had the nation been
well defended and its future salvation in a
manner assured.

ictfide-boardj pj andthe(f^T
ThiteHdm

\N the old, old days before the Civil
War, and very nearly at the end
of that era of excitement and ex
travagance, there still lingered in
Washington city society one objectionable
remnant of ancient notions concerning hospi
tality. Perhaps it was a small yet treasured
fragment of the ancient baronial custom of
" open house."
Its most complete representative, and often
very handsome indeed, Avas " the sideboard "
in each dining-room, and next to this Avas the
" locker " in parlor or library.
As for the former, it might be brilliant with
cut-glass goblets and decanters and Avith wine
glasses of varied tints and patterns. With
these, whether always visible or only ready to
be brought out, Avere brandy, old rum, gin,
whiskey, port, sherry, Madeira, and cigars.
According to the tastes, the pocket, or the
credit of the householder were the glitter and
the perfection or profusion of the social stim
ulants ready for offering. 92

THE SIDEBOARD AND THE WHITE HOUSE 93
All this Avas in the houses of men of means,
but vastly more numerous were the minor im
itations. By the sure operation of the laws
of finance, and also by the requirements of
local household or office proprieties, the lists
of refreshments indicated diminished in num
ber and in kind until in the lower grades of
purchasing ability even the brandy disappeared.
On the most extended line or level all that
still was free was the plain glass tumbler and
plain whiskey.
Thoughtful people, especially "total-absti
nence " people, of the present day may not all
be aware how tremendous is the improvement
which has been made. They may be able to
thank God more heartily for the present and
to gain courage and faith concerning the
future if now and then the past shall be held
before their eyes Avith even offensive plainness.
If by this means they are enabled to perceive
more clearly the kind of Egypt from Avhich
the Lord has led us out, then they may not
murmur quite so much in the moral wilderness
which yet remains, for we are a great deal
nearer Canaan than Ave were a half-century
ago. It Avas, after all, only an all but universal
evil which found this form for its seductive
expression among the preservers of old fash
ions at Washington.

94 LINCOLN AT WORK
In the Capitol building itself were then not
only the authorized restaurants in each wing,
Senate and House of Representatives, but also
the " hole in the wall," with its door so very
near to that of the Supreme Court rooms, at
the centre, and the committee rooms with their
well-supplied lockers. Besides these were the
numerous clerk-room desk " crypts " for mis
cellaneous hospitality, that were easier far for
a visitor to find than was the historic crypt
under the foundations of the original structure,
designed by its architect to receive the bones
of George Washington.
The " keeper of the crypt " was paid a sin
ecure salary during several successive genera
tions, and the legislation for the extinction of
his office was obtained with difficulty. Much
more difficult to engineer was the suppression
of some of the unnecessary barrooms, public
and private, at the Capitol.
In that day, if a man who was for any rea
son a welcome visitor, especially if he were ac
companied by friends, went into parlor or office
which contained due provision for hospitality,
he was sure of a pressing, an all but irresist
ible, invitation to drink, although that is a
coarse, unpleasant term with which to describe
free-hearted friendliness.
For even a stranger to respond by a point-

THE SIDEBOARD AND THE WHITE HOUSE 95
blank refusal was often to run a serious risk
of giving personal offence. There is no danger
at all that any one will or can form an exag
gerated idea concerning the universality or
mischief of this custom. It was ruinous.
The Executive Mansion, the abode as well
as the business office of the presidents of the
United States, from the day' when it was first
occupied, half -finished, by the Adams family,
had a character of its own, changing only a
little, from term to term, with the character of
its illustrious tenant pro tem. It was gener
ally regarded by the people of Washington
themselves and by many who came to it from
far corners of the land as being necessarily a
house for the offering of generous hospitality
of this description. The attempts of more
than one of the presidents to comply with this
absurd demand upon them resulted in almost
their financial shipwreck. .
There are many legends of the old-time
White House entertainments and "receptions."
Some of them Ave may well wish to believe
too highly colored and untrustworthy. At
least, there is no need to print them ; but the
proceedings at the inauguration of President
Jackson, for instance, have been published
with some fulness, and will serve for all useful
illustration and suggestion. An examination

96 LINCOLN AT WORK
of that record enables us to mark the advance
in public opinion by reason of which some
things Avhich once were customary are noAV
impossible. The dawn of the better state of things ap
peared some years before the Civil War ; but
as yet it Avas only a dawn, and not a bright
one. There Avere then already a number of
official and other notable households wherein
not anything objectionable was to be en
countered. The list of these Avas increasing only too
slowly, and it would now be invidious to
specify any of them by name. The house
holds and the clean-kept public offices Avere
rare exceptions, like oases in a desert, — a
thirsty desert ; and they Avere so maintained
in defiance of a sentiment or opinion the
power of which can now be but imperfectly
understood. There yet remains, curiously, a class of men,
distinguished and otherAvise, Avho speak at
times regretfully, admiringly, of the vanished
customs, the abolished freedom and good fel
lowship. There is a very interesting moral and reli
gious history to be read and pondered over, if
Ave turn from the capital to the country at
large, and try to trace the course of the ac-

THE SIDEBOARD AND THE WHITE HOUSE 97
knowledged improvement. One very poAver-
ful agency or help in bringing about the revo
lution at Washington, however, worked alto
gether silently, and it seems to deserve a
record. A sort" of shudder went through the
hearts of the preservers of the ancient free
and liberal customs, early in 1861, when the
incredible assertion was passed from lip to lip
that there was thenceforth to be no wine or
anything else of a hospitable nature to be ob
tained at the Executive Mansion. The good
old days were indeed felt to be passing away ;
and the new, the strange, the unknown, was
coming in.
There were, of course, many who refused
belief, and took it for granted that, if the
presidential sideboard had vanished from its
former place of glitter and renown, the locker,
at least, must still remain, with its treasures
of secret gratification for the palates of the
favored and initiated few. By others it Avas
tacitly assumed that Mr. Lincoln was really
receiving too many visitors of all sorts, and
anything like treating Avas of necessity tem
porarily to be dispensed with. There was a
great deal of pressure upon him, you know,
and his friends must bear it in mind.
Precisely what was the nature of the new
order of things may be illustrated by an inci-

98 LINCOLN AT WORK
dent which was almost amusing. Among Mr.
Lincoln's Avarm admirers in the city of New
York were several gentlemen with social ten
dencies. They knew little of his personal
habits and prejudices ; but they were aware
that he was from the West, and believed them
selves familiar with Western customs. They
were also traditionally aware of the costly ex
actions of White House hospitality, and they
determined to aid him in bearing that part of
the tremendous burden put upon him. Their
intentions, according to such light and knowl
edge as they had, were patriotic, and their
performance was liberality itself. They made
out a " wine list " which omitted hardly any
thing supposedly to be required by the side
board or locker of the commander-^n-chief, and
the supply included even his dinner-table.
Everything sent Avas choice of its kind, and
it was expressed, prepaid, with warm decla
rations of good Avill. To their credit be
it also said that hardly any of the several
givers of that lot of stimulants for an over
worked president deemed it in good taste to
allow so much as their names to be communi
cated with the gift.
The first that I heard of it was when a sud
den, peremptory summons came up to me from
Mrs. Lincoln to come and see her at once.

MRS. LINCOLN.
From an old daguerreotype.

THE SIDEBOARD AND THE WHITE HOUSE 99
I hurried down-stairs to her reception-room,
the historic Red Ro'om, somewhat anxious to
know Avhat might be the matter. There was
enough, indeed, for serious consultation ; for
she rapidly unfolded to me the story of the
New York contribution.
" Now ! " she exclaimed, in very comical
perplexity, " what are we to do ? I don't wish
to offend them, of course. But Mr. Lincoln
won't have it in the house. He never uses
any. I never touch it myself. And O, there
is so much of it ! "
" Where is it, Mrs. Lincoln ? "
" Why, it 's all down-stairs, in the basement.
I have n't told Mr. Lincoln, and I don't wish to
bother him about it. I Avish you would just de
cide the matter, and tell me what to do. What
answer shall I give to these gentlemen ? What
am I to do with all the liquors and wines ? "
Her dismay had set me laughing, but I
thought I could see a way out of her very
serious dilemma.
" As to them," I said, " madam, all you
need to do is to send an entirely formal ac
knowledgment to whoever has acted as their
agent. Only a business-like receipt for parcels
duly delivered. As for the wines and liquors,
don't let them stay in the house at all. Do
not wrorry the President about it, either. Make

100 LINCOLN AT WORK
a fair division of the whole lot among the
army hospitals, and ship 'em right away. The
surgeons and nurses will know what to do
Avith them. Put all the responsibility upon
the scientific people. If any of the sick
soldiers need it, there it is."
" That 's exactly what I will do ! " she ex
claimed. " Every bit of it shall go out, right
away. Then, if anybody ever says anything
about it, all I need to do is to tell what we did
with it."
It may be that the kindly New Yorkers
themselves would not have felt any sense of
personal disappointment if they had known
the actual destination and service of their
carefully selected assortment, but I do not
know that they were ever made aware of it.
All this was very nearly at the beginning
of the Lincoln administration, and the kind
of moral testimony which it represents went
on in silent power year after year. Men did
not feel like drinking before going to call
upon Mr. Lincoln. Officials of all sorts felt
the unseen pressure, and it Avas all the Avhile
aided, added to, by the precept and exam
ple of several prominent statesmen. Not
one of them preached on temperance. Mr.
Lincoln did not, but the tone of official con
duct and life underwent a gradual change.

THE SIDEBOARD AND THE WHITE HOUSE 101
Nothing like perfection has yet been at
tained in Washington, or anywhere else; but
most of the "barroom" sideboards compara
tively have departed, or at least have disap
peared. With them has gone away a vast
amount of the most pernicious, poisonous
temptation. At all events, the result, such as it is, is a
forcible lecture in itself upon the power of ex
ample and the responsibilities of those who
are in high places.

Sentry a^the Gate

J HERE was once a great fire in the
outskirts of the city of Washing
ton. No buildings of importance
perished, but a number of tempor
ary wooden structures provided by the quar
termaster's department for the storage of sup
plies for the army. With these and with their
very valuable contents of hay, straw, grain,
and provisions, many horses also were burned.
For obvious reasons, the loss was somewhat
notable, and the fire was said to have been
lighted by a spark from a cigar.
This being taken for granted, an order went
out instantly from the headquarters of the
military officer in command of the city, con
sidered only as a fortified post of the Army of
the Potomac, rigidly prohibiting all smoking
within a specified distance of any of the nu
merous " public buildings."
The energetic army man had in his mind,
no doubt, the sundry structures of a military
character and use, but the consequences con
tained something like a lesson or lecture upon
102

THE SENTRY AT THE GATE 103
" militarism." This is a thing with which the
American people had never had anything to
do, prior to the Civil War. It then grew
rapidly to very large, mushroom proportions,
and it was not entirely rooted out until several
presidential elections had labored with it.
The Capitol and many other of the public
buildings at Washington are very nearly fire
proof. They are, at least, in no danger what
ever from small cigar-sparks. A few of the
older affairs were then of a more combustible
character, but had escaped from innumerable
smokers and were in no immediate danger
whatever. The Executive Mansion, not at all fire-proof,
is one of the public buildings, and it was mani
festly covered by the order, literally construed.
Something like obedience was to have been
expected from President Lincoln himself, as he
never smoked. He was not the kind of man,
moreover, to set his own house on fire ; but I
have seen the sparks fly out in all directions
from the blazing logs in the old-fashioned fire
places of the White House.
As to the personal habits of other presidents,
there Avas a legend that Andrew Jackson used
to sit and smoke in his Mexican chair in front
of the fireplace in his office-room, until two of
the bricks of its arch were deeply footmarked.

104 LINCOLN AT WORK
At about the time when Mr. Lincoln entered
the office, that arch was reconstructed, and
Mr. Lincoln expressed much regret that those
particular bricks had not been preserved.
There was a subtle, well-understood meaning
in his wish to put his own feet in the tracks
left by the old hero who had dealt so firmly
with the first beginnings of " nullification and
secession." There was now no real danger of any other
kind of fire at the Executive Mansion.
A very zealous military man was in com
mand of the regiment of volunteers, infantry,
from which details were made for the neAv
" guard " provided for the personal safety of
the President. Some of the companies of this
regiment were composed, for the greater part,
of patriotic German-Americans, with Euro
pean ideas concerning strict discipline and
army orders.
Besides the guards on foot, a cavalry regi
ment familiarly known as Scott's Nine Hun
dred had been ordered to furnish details for
mounted patrols and videttes to complete the
security of the national headquarters.
Not very late, one dark autumnal evening,
I was strolling along Pennsylvania Avenue,
past the corner of the Treasury Building. I
was smoking a cigar, and was in no hurry, al-

THE SENTRY AT THE GATE 105
though there was a large pile of epistolary
work upon my table in the northeast room.
As I drew near to the open gate of the road
way that leads from the Avenue to the house,*
I paused for a moment to consider the changed
order of things. It was as the change from
peace to war, from the civil authority to army
rule. Just inside of the gateway, in the carriage
road, sat a cavalryman, motionless, but ready
at any moment for the use of sabre or carbine.
I can remember now that his horse stood as
still as if he had been cast in bronze. He
looked much more like a horse, however, than
do some of the bronze castings.
A few paces kfrom him, on the paved foot
path at his right, near the small gate for
pedestrians, stood a tall volunteer whose rifle
carried a peculiarly effective-looking sabre
bayonet. I had carried one of those things
myself when in service, and knew how useful
they were to break up hardtack, split kin
dlings, or poke a dull fire. There is no record,
I believe, of their employment for butchering
human beings. At every other gateway or
outside sallyport of any kind around the mod
est palace of the dictator of America, and en
tirely without his direction, just such military
protection had been given him. Owing, how-

106 LINCOLN AT WORK
ever, to the nature of the fences and the ex
tent of the ground, Scott's Nine Hundred and
the infantry might as well have been south of
the Potomac so far as any real danger to the
President might be concerned.
Swinging along somewhat wearily, listlessly,
I had turned through the smaller gate, puffing
at my weed, when I was suddenly brought up
by a flash of glittering steel apparently many
inches in width, carrying both point and edge,
such as they were.
" Put out dot cigar-r-r ! "
"What?" I responded, more than a little
astonished at this military invasion of my ac
customed privileges in the neighborhood of my
own official workshop. But again the bayonet
flashed, and there Avere words unmistakably
German, folloAved by a sternly uttered repeti
tion of the command.
" Put out dot cigar-r-r ! "
I offered explanations, but they Avere given
all in vain, for the Teutonic sentinel was furi
ously firm.
I Avas compelled, then, to recall to mind the
letter, if not the spirit, of the order for the
salvation of the public buildings ; and I pitched
away all that was left of the Cuban peril I
was bringing upon them.
My walk began again, but I was already

THE SENTRY AT THE GATE

107

aware that the cavalryman's rigidity had de
parted from him. He had been swaying side-
wise in his saddle as if his half-suppressed

' ' Put out dot cigar-r-r ! '

laughter might dismount him, and I had be
lieved that he was laughing at me. Now, also,

108 LINCOLN AT WORK
his bronze horse curveted and wheeled, and in
a moment more he was pulling up beside me.
" Mr. Secretary ! Wait a moment ! The
best joke you ever heard ! "
I halted readily and faced him ; for he had
not drawn his sabre, and his pistols remained
in their holsters.
" What 's the matter ? I supposed I had a
right to do as I pleased around here."
His horse plunged a little, as if he had some
fun in him, but the rider succeeded in keeping
near enough to tell me. " It was n't an hour
ago that Germany halted Stanton himself right
there, just as he did you."
" What ? The secretary of war ? Did he
make him throw away his cigar ? "
" Well, he did ! Stanton all but ran against
him in the dark, and Germany shouted at him,
' You puts out dot cigar ! ' till he gave it up.
But that wasn't all. Stanton laughed, but he
hadn't more'n got out of sight before old
Seward, he came along; and he's almost al
ways smoking."
"Did he halt Seward?"
" You bet ! He pointed his frog-sticker at
him, and yelled, ' You put out dot cigar ! '
" ' 0, I guess not,' said SeAvard, and he was
going right along ; but he had to halt and
stand still, and no kind of explanation was

THE SENTRY AT THE GATE 109
worth a cent. Out it had to go before he could
pass the gate."
" Stanton and Seward both ! " I exclaimed,
and the bronze horse gave another curvet, as
if he perfectly understood the portfolios of
state and war, but the cavalryman again sup
pressed his chuckling and his spirited beast,
and Avent on.
" That is n't all, though. Seward got aAvay
without being prodded, but a feAv minutes
later along came old Ben Butler, as large as
life ; and he was sAvinging right in, but he
was n't in his major-general's uniform. Looked
like a civilian, you know. ' Halt ! You puts
out dot cigar ! ' shouts Germany, and Ben
halted. " ' Are those your orders ? ' he asked.
" ' Dose is my orters ! Put out dot cigar ! '
The frog-sticker was pointing straight at him,
and old Ben threAv his cigar away over the
fence. " ' Orders are orders, and they must be
obeyed. There it goes,' he said, and on he
went. You ought to have been here as I was,
and seen and heard it."
He had more to say, to bring out all the
peculiar personalities and behavior of the three
distinguished victims of military authority un
necessarily enforced, and then he wheeled

110 LINCOLN AT WORK
away to his post of duty, while the Volunteer
and his sabre bayonet bravely held the narrow
gate against all comers.
The joke was altogether too good to keep,
but it was hardly the correct thing to intrude
upon the President's privacy at that hour. It
was lucky that the door between his room and
Mr. Nicolay's was open so that I could see
him, all alone, writing something at his desk.
Something important, perhaps, for he lifted his
head from it with a clouded face when I spoke
to him. I had a curious idea, however, that I
was doing him good while I told my story,
and at the end of it he was laughing merrily.
" Seward ! " he said. " And Stanton ! And
old Ben ! Well, well ! I guess I'd better send
for the officer on duty, whoever he is, and tell
him to let up a little. The orders against
smoking don't include this part of the camp."
The captain of the company on guard was
sent for, and he came. He was a good-looking
young fellowr, and I had a perception that
only his deep respect for the President kept
down, or back, the broad grin that began upon
his face. He received the direct orders given
him by the commander-in-chief, and bowed
his way out. Perhaps he was not at all sorry
to have such an incident to tell of in his after
days.

THE SENTRY AT THE GATE 111
My own work called me to my loaded
table, and there was the end of the matter, ex
cept that only a few days later all the formal
and useless guard-mounting and patrol duty
was dispensed with. It was not at all to the
taste of Mr. Lincoln. He objected strenuously
to military surroundings and to " fuss and
feathers " of every description. Formalism
burdened him.
Long years afterward, I was again in
Washington, and was, one summer evening,
the guest of a pleasant private family. Its
older and younger members were recalling in
cidents of the war, and for my contribution
I told the story of the German sentry at the
White House gate. Somewhat quiet until
then, and sitting in a corner, had been a
bearded young fellow, who listened and
laughed until the end ; and then he said, " I
guess you don't remember me." He had been
introduced to me as a nephew of the lady of
the house ; but I could say, " No, I don't think
Ave have ever met before."
" Yes, we have ! " he replied, with another
outburst of fun. " I was the cavalryman !
We've all heard that story before. I just
wanted to know, though, what Lincoln said
about it."
He had other points to add, and perhaps

112 LINCOLN AT WORK
there is not now any very great value attach
ing to it, but we do owe to President Lincoln
something for his persistent preservation of
the supremacy of the civil authority over any
and every development of militarism. There
may yet come another national occasion when
his example may profitably be referred to.

The Messenger to the
President

»NE of the many curious demands
made upon Mr. Lincoln by his
critics during the Avar Avas om
niscience. It was his duty to see
and hear everything, no matter how far away,
and then to act upon his perfect information
in accordance with the course of future events.
Something like the same idea has crept into
the work of later commentators upon his ad
ministration. He was a broad-minded and subtle analyst
and judge of whatever information came to
him, and that he was so rarely misled affords
us a striking, and all but marvellous, presen
tation of his peculiar genius. The central fact
remains, however, that the great mass of his
information, of Avhatever kind, reached him
through "official channels. Every despatch
from the armies or the fleets, all correspond
ence upon either civil or military affairs, was
sure to be tinged, more or less, by the feelings,
opinions, or interests of individuals. Each
person communicating with him might be
honest, honorable, even capable ; but each was
113

114 LINCOLN AT WORK
an individual man, not all-wise nor all-
knowing. Constitutionally as well as officially Mr.
Lincoln was keenly eager to obtain the exact
truth in any case, and it sometimes came to
him through by and forbidden paths. One of
these paths began at a roadside in the rear of
the Army of the Potomac, nearly at the close
of the hard fighting in what is best known as
the second battle of Bull Run. It will serve
sufficiently well as an illustration.
A loud voice called out, in a tone that
indicated surprise, " What ! are you here,
Harry ? "
" Yes, general," came back from the road
side. " I 'm helping take care of the wounded.
Secretary Chase sent me over with a lot of us
treasury clerks as soon as he heard that the
battle was going on."
"My boy," sharply exclaimed the general,
" you are just the man I want ! Your brother
is one of Lincoln's private secretaries. He can
get in a message to the President that no army
officer could carry. It would n't go straight
in at once if he did carry it. You come along
with me."
A few yards away from the spot where he
had reined in his horse, a brace of army sur
geons were busily at work among a ghastly

THE MESSENGER TO THE PRESIDENT 115
gathering of shot-shattered soldiers, brought
in from the last battle-field. The general was
a fine-looking man, but his face wore now an
almost broken-hearted expression, mingled
with something that told of anger as well as
disappointment. He might well be feeling
deeply, for he wras aware of the net results of
that day's collision with the Confederate forces
under General Lee. Hardly as much was yet
knoAvn by the Union army itself, except its
more badly beaten corps. In the far distance
at this hour cannon were still sounding. Re
serves and re-enforcements were still moving
toward the front, while all that " front " Avas
rushing back discomfited, disordered, nearly
ruined. The Union forces had everywhere fought
Avell, heroically. If any blame for the disaster
belonged anywhere, it did not belong to the
soldiers. No man could yet say, decisively,
upon whose shoulders it should be laid. To
this day the controversy concerning this
point may fairly be regarded as unsettled,
long and thorough as has been the examina
tion. The corps-commander, for such was the
general's rank, rode slowly along with Harry
trudging at the side of his horse.
" You are something of a dandy, Harry,"

116 LINCOLN AT WORK
he remarked ; " but you don't look much like
one just noAV."
" It 's been awful ! " was all that his young
friend could reply ; for he had been at his ter
rible work through many hours, and his hands
and clothes, and even his face, bore red tokens
of its character. After that they went on for
a little distance in silence, and then the gen
eral halted, pointing forward.
" There 's the tent," he said. " It will not be
a council of war. Nothing of the kind has
been formally summoned. No report of this
meeting will ever be made officially, but I
have sent for the men I want the President to
hear from. Some know it, and some do not.
You will come in and sit down by me. Take
no written notes. That would n't do. Take
every man's name. Hear every word that is
said, questions and answers. Then go and tell
Abraham Lincoln precisely what you have
heard, no more, no less. I want him to know
the exact truth and the exact feeling of the
best officers in this army."
He gave his own views very fully and freely
to begin Avith. It appeared, also, that Harry,
who held a high position under the secretary
of the treasury, had won an exceptional rep
utation for the accuracy and retentiveness of
his memory.

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IT COULD NOT BE CALLED A COUNCIL OF WAR.

THE MESSENGER TO THE PRESIDENT 117
These were the very dark days of the Civil
War, after the failure of the Peninsular cam
paign. This particular day seemed to grow
darker every minute after the great marquee
tent of the commanding general was reached.
There appeared to be great excitement all
around, and many were coming and going.
Officers and orderlies carrying despatches rode
to and fro at full gallop. In the tent itself no
one was likely to note or care for the presence
of one youth more, seeming to be there in at
tendance upon a corps-commander. Several
of these and of other officers of high rank
arrived, and one of them in particular expressed
himself forcibly concerning the military situa
tion before he dismounted from his horse.
It could not be called a council of war. It
was not even a debating society. It was an
altogether informal coming together of a num
ber of angry critics, leaders of a defeated
army, it might be, but as resolute and as ca
pable as ever. In such a gathering they could
and did say many things which would not
have been inserted, even by themselves, in any
despatch to the war department. Perhaps
one or two of them spoke none the less freely
because of an intimation that they were trans
mitting their best opinions to the commander-
in-chief, the President.

118 LINCOLN AT WORK
Harry sat and listened, his pale face glow
ing Avith excitement or growing paler with
grief as he learned the sad extent of the disas
ters, the details of which Avere unfolded.
" Get out, now," said his friend, at last.
" Can you remember ? "
" I can repeat every word," said Harry de
cidedly. " I shall not miss any part of it.
But how on earth am I to get to Washington ?
There is n't a horse to be had."
" I '11 attend to that," replied the general,
glancing up the road. " There 's one yonder.
Horse enough to carry bad news."
An army wagon had broken down at the
roadside, its damaged front wheel stuck in a
ditch, and its driver had unhitched his three
spans of mules.
The general ordered him to put a bridle
upon one of these, but there was no saddle to
be had. A blanket was strapped on instead,
and the important messenger's steed was ready.
" Take" that order to the quartermaster at
Alexandria," said the general. " He will send
you to Washington on a special boat. The
President will have plenty of despatches be
fore you get there, but none like yours for a
day or two. They are breaking the news of
this thing a little too gently."
Away went Harry, and his mule was really

THE MESSENGER TO THE PRESIDENT 119
a good one, glad, perhaps, to have a free run
with no army wagon behind him.
Dark, dark, dark was that ride of the young
messenger, and his heart was the heaviest
thing carried by his willing mule. He had
sights to see as he went. Wounded men on
stretchers, ambulances, guns, disordered de
tachments, confusion, the wrecks of any great
battle, whether lost or won.
The dead on each side were thousands, the
wounded were thousands more, and the Con
federate forces themselves had been badly
shattered. How he found the needful author
ity in Alexandria, Harry afterwards hardly
knew, for he hunted him up in a kind of ap
parent chaos that wras really nothing more
than the customary rush and whirl of vast
military movements.
At last, nevertheless, a steam-tug was bear
ing him swiftly up the Potomac toward Wash
ington, and she seemed to him to haAre no
other passenger than the courier of the last
battle. The next morning the usual routine of work
was but just beginning in the Executive Man
sion. Miscellaneous visitors were not yet ad
mitted, but the President was in his room,
and he was alone. The secretary in charge of
the White House correspondence was sitting

120 LINCOLN AT WORK
behind his table in the northeast room, busily
opening and reading numberless letters, when
the door in front of him swung open, and
an extraordinary, uncomely, disorderly shape
strode hastily to his very elboAV. Mud, blood,
torn clothes, pallor, a battered hat, — some
vagabond who had broken in past the door
keeper. " Bill ! I must see the President right away !
I 'm from the battle ! "
" Harry ? Is this you ? I did n't know you !
What is it ? "
" I must n't tell you, nor anybody but Mr.
Lincoln. It 's private news for him  "
" Stand still a moment."
Up sprung the secretary, and hastened across
the hall into the President's room. Bending
gloomily over a pile of despatches, Mr. Lincoln
at first hardly turned his head Avhen spoken
to ; but he listened, bending even lower for a
moment, as if some burden had suddenly grown
heavier. " Bring your brother right in ! "
Not another word spoken, only a knitting
of the dark brows and a deepening of the deep
wrinkles. A minute more, and Harry was alone with
the commander-in-chief, the man who always
found it so very difficult to obtain exact infor-

THE MESSENGER TO THE PRESIDENT 121
mation that he felt at times as if he was walk
ing on in the dark.
Half an hour or more went by, — it seemed
much longer, — and the bell over the secretary's
table summoned him to Mr. Lincoln's room.
" Take your brother to Stanton. Take this
card, and he will see you at once. He must
know this instantly. It is of vast importance."
" Come on, Bill," whispered Harry. " I 'm
almost dead, but I can stand it through."
As they walked along together, out of the
White House and toward the War Depart
ment, the messenger gave his brother a suffi
ciently full account of himself, and of his do
ings, but not of the utterances of the several
division commanders who had composed the
corps and informal council or army conference.
Stanton's office Avas reached, and the gruff
secretary of war put aside a number of bril
liant uniforms to take the grimy courier into
his private room, where none but he could
hear. An hour Avent by, and out he came
with Harry. "Stoddard," he said, "not a
word to anybody ; but your brother must see
Halleck. It lets new light into the whole
affair. He has done it well."
A clerk led the way, and General Halleck in
turn put aside all other affairs to listen and
question carefully. He was at that time the

122 LINCOLN AT WORK
trusted and almost supreme military adviser
of the administration ; and he, too, may at
times have been puzzled by conflicting reports
from here and there. He was a calm, schol
arly-looking man, of exceedingly firm nerves,
a scientific general rather than a leader in the
field. All the more, for that reason, was he
well fitted for the vastly important post to
which he had been appointed. His inquiries
in the present case were thorough, and con
sumed much time ; but before they were ended
Lincoln Avas with Stanton, and Halleck was
sent for.
" What 's next, Harry ? " asked his brother.
" Next ? Why, I must get a bath and some
thing to eat. Then I must go to bed. I
must n't say a word to a living soul about this
matter, though. You mustn't, either," said
the messenger.
" I ? " almost laughed the secretary. " Humph !
My special business, year in and year out, is
keeping my mouth shut and forgetting things.
About a good many matters I must forget as
long as I live. There is going to be a sharp
inquiry over this defeat, though. It should
have been a victory. Our men fought splen
didly." " So they did," groaned Harry. " I never
want to see a battle-field again, Bill. I wish

THE MESSENGER TO THE PRESIDENT 123
I could forget. There 's nothing else so awful.
The Avounded are worse to see than the dead.
I Avish the Avar were over."
He slowly walked away, faint and sick.
The secretary hurried back to his post of duty.
Lincoln returned to his White House room.
There were torrents of despatches and reports
after that, but the best generals in the Army
of the Potomac had already sent their un-
pruned opinions to the President. They had,
for the greater part, unwittingly sent them by
an army mule, carrying Secretary Chase's con
fidential clerk. It has been said, " A bird of
the air shall carry the voice " ; and so he
might, if he were sitting in the tent corner
while the matter was undergoing altogether
free discussion, and if then he could find any
means of carrying it to Mr. Lincoln himself.

*HERE have been crises in our na
tional history when it has seemed
that too great a concentration of
power in the hands of a popular
army leader threatened to render the civil au
thority subordinate. From each of these
perils as it came we have been delivered by
the stubborn jealousy of our successive Con
gresses and also by the wisdom and unselfish
patriotism of individual statesmen. To George
Washington himself we owe our first and
greatest debt, and the record of what he did
and how he did it is an interesting study. At
the close of the Civil War there were months
of disorder and confusion during which it was
well for the integrity of our institutions that
the power concentrated was in the hands of
Ulysses S. Grant. A weaker or a more am
bitious man might then have done irreparable
mischief. Minor instances occurring between
these indicated dates could hardly be presented
without too extended an historical explana
tion. 124

THE WRESTLING-MATCH 125
The American people, like all others, has ex
hibited a strong tendency to glorify military
success, and has now and then manufactured
its heroes of the moment out of somewhat de
fective materials. There have been American
demigods that melted aAvay like so many snow
images as soon as they were placed out under
the clear sunshine.
Probably there will always be occasional
clashings between the habitual dictatorship of
military authority and the slower, law-bound
methods of the civil power. The latter may
even operate detrimentally under certain cir
cumstances, but Ave have Avisely decided that
Ave will endure any such detriment rather than
run the risks involved in a consent to avoid it
by giving even temporary or incidental su
premacy to any army leader.
We formulate our expression of this decision
by making the President of the United States
the commander-in-chief of the army and navy,
although he may not know enough of war to
drill a corporal's guard or of seamanship to
row a boat. He is, of course, supposed to
have his professional advisers, but these are
not to be his directors. Each of our chief
magistrates in turn has distinguished himself
by the wisdom and moderation with which he
has exercised this tremendous prerogative. In

126 LINCOLN AT WORK
it, however, hardly hidden at all is the unques
tionably dictatorial authority which was so
freely exercised by Abraham Lincoln.
Of him it is also recorded, on the declara
tions of General Grant and others, that he did
not meddle with actual operations of armies
and commanders in the field. Each general
intrusted with the direction of a campaign
was sustained to the uttermost by the Presi
dent, and was left altogether unhampered by
the civil authority to Avhich he Avas neverthe
less held responsible for his successes or his
defeats. The few collisions which at any
time occurred were brought about by some
semblances of political action outside of affairs
properly military, on the part of officers hold
ing important commands.
The first notable clashing of this kind was
between the President and General Fremont,
when that overhasty patriot assumed to ex
ercise in the West functions which did not law
fully belong to him.
Another, apparently more dangerous,
marked the military and civil career of Gen.
George B. McClellan. There could be no
question of either the ability or the patriot
ism of that magnificently equipped . military
scholar. President Lincoln himself once said
to me concerning him, in reply to a question

The wrestling-match 127
of my own : " Well, Stoddard, I will say it ;
for organizing an army, for preparing an army
for the field, for fighting a defensive campaign,
I will back General McClellan against any
general of modern times. I don't know but
of ancient times, either. But I begin to be
lieve that he will never get ready to go for
ward." That was said while the Army of the Po
tomac was wasting away uselessly in its camps
and forts among the Virginia hills south of
Washington, and Avhile its commanding gen
eral was developing his views upon the polit
ical aspects of the war.
After that came the long agony of the pain
fully protracted and disastrous " Peninsular
campaign," from which the army at last re
turned to very much its old places south of
the Potomac and the capital. With it came its
exceedingly popular general, and there was an
unconcealed antagonism between him and Mr.
Lincoln, not only upon questions wrhich were
political rather than military, but also upon
others, the solution whereof actually did in
clude the constitutional provision and the su
preme direction of all the forces of the nation.
The general once more had a temporary
residence in Washington, not many minutes'
walk from the Executive Mansion. Here, in

128 LINCOLN AT WORK
my northeast room, I was sitting one evening,
deeply absorbed in my work. So interested
had I become in an epistle of unusual import
ance that I was entirely unaware of anybody
else coming in or going out, until alow, weary-
sounding voice at my elbow said to me : " Leave
that, and come with me. I am going over to
McClellan's house." Not another word Avas
uttered. I arose in silence, picked up my hat,
and walked out of the house Avith him. There
was that in his manner which forbade ques
tion or remark. I was aware of having some
such feeling as a man may have when he is
looking at a very black thundercloud with an
idea that a stormy gust is in it. Thunder and
lightning sometimes come out of such clouds,
you knoAv, and the tallest trees go doAvn sud
denly. Even army tents, big ones, might be
blown away by one of those thunder-gusts.
European etiquette,, a very important bit of
governmental machinery, after its kind, might
have forbidden the commander-in-chief to run
over in this manner to ask questions of a sub
ordinate. It was, to a European diplomatic
mind, something like an open confession of
Aveakness. The inferior should have been sent
for, not visited. Mr. Lincoln knew hardly
anything about etiquette or diplomacy. He
had had some experience with an axe, however,

THE WRESTLING-MATCH 129
and he could drive in the edge of one to the
very eye.
Not one word did he speak to me, that I
can remember, as we walked along. He was
accompanied, as may be seen, by his brilliant
official staff, as became a commander-in-chief
on his way to order the. movements of armies
and to determine the political future of the
republic. The house was reached ; the door-bell was
rung ; and we Avere admitted. We were ush
ered into an ample and elegantly furnished
drawing-room. Mr. Lincoln drew a chair to a
place near the centre-table, and sat down with
his face toward the doorway from the hall. I
found a seat somewhat more in the background,
or on the other side of the table. I was like
a spectator in a theatre, Avaiting for the cur
tain to rise ; but I was Avrong about that, for
the first act had begun.
Time enough was to be given for the Presi
dent to collect his thoughts and mature his
purposes after his arrival was announced to
the commander of the Army of the Potomac.
Very possibly that brilliant and accomplished
leader had just then in hand important army
matters. If so, due attention must indeed be
accorded to them, and a mere civilian might
well wait.

130 LINCOLN AT WORK
Minutes went by, and I was conscious that
the hot blood of angry indignation was tin
gling all over me. My cheeks seemed on fire,
and my lips were trembling ; but Mr. Lincoln
sat with a smile groAving grimly on his face,
and the thundercloud had entirely disap
peared. There came a sound of feet on the stairs in
the hallway and a rattle of clattering metal
as if somebody's blade Avere loose in its scab
bard and banged against a baluster. Then
followed a rushing entrance of elegant men in
fine uniforms, epauleted, startling ; and I took
note that the President had on a seedy black
cutaway coat. No epaulets. No sword. No
grandeur. Nevertheless, he seemed to me a
number of yards taller than Avas either the
general or the two members of his staff, Gen
eral Marcy and another, who came in with him.
Was there any apology made for keeping
the President waiting ? Not a word, for Mr.
Lincoln almost instantly asked a question
which sent all other subjects of conversation,
as it were, to the tombs of the Capulets. It
must be said for General McClellan and his
personal movements that he seemed the very
impersonation of dash, vigor, firmness, de
cision. He had a vast amount of Avhat is
called personal magnetism. He now took a

THE WRESTLING-MATCH 131
seat with a singular air of being not only at
home, but altogether the master of the situa
tion, and again I felt my hot blood mounting.
I was entirely cured by staring at Mr. Lin
coln ; for that strange, phenomenal smile of
his was deepening. Never mind, now, what
were the subjects which were brought forward
for discussion, or, rather, as it proved, for the
patiently reached declaration of Mr. Lincoln's
final decision. I was not there as a reporter,
but only as the President's magnificent staff,
in a gray sack suit, unsashed, unsworded.
The President had at the first arisen to
greet politely the army men, as they came in
to call upon him in what had suddenly changed,
somehow, into a drawing-room of his own.
He was evidently even pleased to see them,
and was glad that they had taken the trouble
to come down-stairs and learn from his own
lips what orders he might have to give them.
All of that, hoAvever, was said by his man
ner only, and not at all by words. The gen
eral felt, comprehended, and resented instantly.
He was himself a perfect master of conversa
tional warfare. The slow, guarded, thought
ful exchange of brief sentences which followed
became wonderfully interesting. It was a
great wrestling-match, so to speak, between
two extraordinary athletes.

132 LINCOLN AT WORK
There could be no question of the general's
superiority in training, experience, all manner
of information relating to military affairs.
Mr. Lincoln admitted it, skilfully, deferentially,
and then that fact disappeared from the arena.
As he himself once remarked, " Some kinds of
powder can't be burnt but once."
General McClellan had great will power, and
he hardly tried to conceal his sense of the py
ramidal strength of his official and political
position. Mr. Lincoln did not dispute it at all,
and he listened quite respectfully to a very few
deprecatory remarks made by General Marcy
and the accompanying colonel, whoever he
was. They also were respectfully aware of the
superiority, at such a crisis, of the military au
thority over the absurdly elevated civil power.
One listening could not but begin to see be
yond that drawing-room theatre and its wres
tlers. Not only awful battles, extended Avar
operations, but political agitations also and fu
ture presidential elections, might be prophetic
ally discerned, taking dim shapes in a back
ground that was very near indeed. The future
of the country, North and South, and in imme
diate particular, the policy, the direction, and
the fate of the Lincoln administration, Avere
being apparently wrestled for. So it appeared
to one who saw and heard as a critical spec-

THE WRESTLING-MATCH 133
tator, but so it was not, in reality. The room
became more and more fully occupied by the
incomparably stronger individuality of the tall,
Titanic athlete to whom the victory was as
sured from the beginning. By no possibility
could Mr. Lincoln have been overcome, and he
carried point after point without the slightest
appearance of making an effort.
The general grew more and more deferen
tially courteous, less and less declaratory of his
idea that the supreme command belonged to
him. All manner of politics drifted out of
sight, and only the coming movements of the
several armies remained, to be left to him, skil
fully, by Mr. Lincoln, after their nature, in out
line, had been pretty fully set forth and agreed
upon. The long interview, so extraordinary, so in
teresting, so important, came to an end at last.
The colonel had gone to other duties long
since, and only General McClellan and General
Marcy remained. They were both unusually
fine-looking men, and they bowed with grace
and dignity as the civil poAver of the United
States walked out of the house every whit as
supreme as ever.
What did I do ?
Why, I had entirely recovered my unfortu
nate temper, and I walked along with Mr.

134

LINCOLN AT WORK

Lincoln, looking up to him every now and then
as if he were an exceedingly tall man. I think
he laughed aloud once or twice ; but he did not

" Every whit as supreme as ever. '

tell me why, and I did not go back to my work
again that night, for the hour was late when
the commander-in-chief and his staff re-entered
the Executive Mansion.

|EYOND a doubt, the people of the
United States, learned or unlearned,
are exceedingly critical. A very
considerable part of them may also
be described as fastidious. The number, vari
ety, and character of our periodicals, with their
comparative prosperities, present all the infor
mation necessary upon this point. Any one
interested in the study of it, however, may dis
cover somewhat more upon close investigation.
Here and there, not by any means too fre
quently, he will find the marvel of a joke, a
poem, an utterance of patriotism or of states
manship, which has been printed and reprinted
in almost every journal, large or small.
In every case the matter so perpetually re
appearing has been something brief, simple ;
often it is plain even to homeliness. These are
the things which pass the criticism of the
masses, whatever opinion concerning them may
be entertained by the fastidious minority.
Now and then, even to this day, there have
been utterances of this sort, sure to reach the
135

136 LINCOLN AT WORK
minds and stir the hearts of the people, which
for some reason call out the remark, " That
reminds one of Abraham Lincoln." That this
is so illustrates well the popular memory and
thought which treasures yet his peculiar faculty
for forcible expression.
How, then, did he attain and how did he
exercise his undeniable power in the exact uses
of words and phrases ? Was he in the habit
of striking off at random, like sparks from flint
and steel, the fiery utterances which kindled
instantly any combustible material in the minds
and hearts of all who heard or read ? Not so.
He had much in his mind which was ready at
any moment when demanded, and he could
give an answer promptly enough and vigor
ously. It is not too much to say, however,
that he never wrote or said anything intended
by him to be of general effect and value with
out permitting it to take form slowly in his
heart and brain in long processes of prepara
tion. It would be interesting in this connection to
know the stages of the elaboration of his brief,
seemingly almost spontaneous, but imperish
able, Gettysburg speech. A close analysis of
its perfect sentences proves that it is a formu
lation of thoughts and feelings which belonged
to the inner life of the speaker. It was there-

UNCLE SAM'S WEB-FEET 137
fore somethmg like a jewel already polished
that he took out of its casket and set forever
in the memories of -his countrymen. It is re
lated of him that his great Springfield speech
in 1858, in which occurs the then tremendous
declaration, "A house divided against itself
cannot stand ; I do not believe this govern
ment can endure permanently, half slave and
half free," was written a scrap at a time, day
after day, on odds and ends of waste paper, old
letter-backs, envelopes, and the like. These at
last were collected and consolidated like the
stones and timbers of a new building, the archi
tect fitting them wTell together and making the
structure strong rather than elegant. Strenu
ous objection to the delivery of it was made
by a number of his badly frightened friends.
Something like this is true of the sIoav prep
aration of his Cooper Institute speech, and of
his inaugural addresses. Conscientious care
and long forethought with reference to acts as
well as to forms of speech created in the minds
of many observers an erroneous impression of
slowness or hesitation; but he could strike
with fiery rapidity whenever an occasion called
for promptness, and it was not by any means
easy to take him unawares.
Were you ever at any time suddenly trans
formed into a hundred millions of men and

138 LINCOLN AT WORK
women ? No ? Well, I was once. Or, rather,
I was changed into an actor, and was com
pelled to pose as the living representative of at
least that number of people upon a stage which
had no footlights. It was nothing, in fact,
but a chair at one side of the long " cabinet-
meeting table " in the President's room at the
White House in the summer of 1863. Late
one evening, after all others had left the busi
ness part of the house, I was in Mr. Nicolay's
room, for some now-forgotten reason, when
Mr. Lincoln came to the door of it with some
sheets of foolscap paper in his hand.
" Stoddard," he said, " come in here. I've
been writing something, and I want to read it
to somebody."
He turned round and went into his own
room, going over to the opposite side of the
long table. Here he seated himself, pen in
hand, his manuscript before him ; and I was
dimly aAvare of an idea that I was altogether
and merely " somebody."
" I can always get a better idea of anything,"
he said, " after I 've heard it read and know
how it sounds."
I began then to get another and very dif
ferent conception of my position. He was
about to listen on behalf of his audience of a
hundred million, and to study the effect upon

UNCLE SAM'S WEB-FEET 139
them, not me. He was intending to enter
into their minds, and to weigh and judge with
them the force and meaning of his utterances.
That is, Mr. Lincoln himself, by the vast and
subtle outreaching of his imagination, was for
the hour transformed into an almost Avorld-
wide audience, giving its verdict, sentence by
sentence, upon a very memorable state paper.
It was the long, yet wonderfully condensed,
letter addressed to whom it might concern,
through Hon. James C. Conkling, of Spring
field, 111., August 26, 1863. In this letter the
President summed up the results of the war to
that date, and defended with caustic power
the policy of arming black soldiers for the de
fence of their newly acquired freedom. Be
sides this, it Avas a defence of the Emancipation
Proclamation itself, then about a year old, and
still dependent for its full and final effect upon
the outcome of the Avar. To the minds of
many men, of the North as Avell as of the South,
this result Avas still a matter of great uncer
tainty. Half of America and almost all of
French or English-speaking Europe believed
that the Confederacy would succeed, after all,
in establishing an independent nationality.
The Germanic peoples generally held an op
posite view, and were free purchasers of our
national six-per-cent bonds. Even they, how-

140 LINCOLN AT WORK
ever, were much in need of reassurance, and it
was in this manner to be given them. The
discontented, discouraged, or overcritical citi
zens of Illinois who had addressed their com
plaints to the President through Mr. Conkling
were to serve an exceedingly important pur
pose of state.
The letter itself shows, on examination, that
first in importance of all who were to read
it, to the mind of its author, were the true-
hearted, self-sacrificing people who were sus
taining him. He knew that their saddened
eyes were in those days continually turned to
ward him as if they were waiting, longing, hop
ing, that he might have something good to
tell them.
Not less was the value of that letter to the
soldiers in their camps and the sailors on the
ships and gunboats. It was well for the com
mander-in-chief, without seeming to address
them at all, to give them an encouraging out
line and a better understanding of the tre
mendous work which they had already ac
complished. Just behind all these was the population of
the Confederacy itself, or all that part of it
which should by any means obtain a reading
of the letter. It is now well knoAvn that they
did, to a large proportion, obtain and read not

UNCLE SAM'S WEB-FEET 141
only this, but many other of his public and
private utterances. So deep Avas the effect
thus produced upon them that at the close of
the Avar they Avere already prepared to regard
him as their Avell-known friend and as their
especial security for good treatment in the
hour of their helplessness.
After the letter Avas printed, nevertheless,
one would have supposed that its manner
rather than its matter was of the greatest im
portance. The criticisms made upon it by
the British journals Avhich reprinted or did
not reprint it, in Avhole or in part, were curi
ously largely of a literary character, as if it
should have been prepared, or at least modi
fied, smoothed, softened, to suit transatlantic
tastes and prejudices. Even these critics, how
ever, and others not so far away, revealed in
their varied condemnations the fact that Mr.
Lincoln had somehow accomplished his pur
pose, so far as they were concerned.
His addressed American complainers were
crushed out altogether, and it was only nat
ural that a large number of them took refuge
in a high-toned denunciation of his false
rhetoric. "Read this," they said contemp
tuously. " What are we to think of such utter
frivolity in dealing with such terribly dark
and dreadful circumstances ? Mr. Lincoln

142 LINCOLN AT WORK
ought at least to have had the good taste to
strike out this ridiculous passage." The part
which they made the most of read as follows :
" Nor must Uncle Sam's web-feet be forgot
ten. At all the watery margins they have
been present, not only on the deep sea, the
broad bay, and the rapid river, but also up the
narrow and muddy bayou, and wherever the
ground was a little damp, they have been and
made their tracks."
Slowly, thoughtfully, listening to the sound
of his own voice, the President read his letter
through to the very end, his face changing its
expression in remarkable accord with the
spirit and force of each successive paragraph.
My own interest, and Avith it my listening
power, grew intense, and I was really some
thing more than a theatrical dummy ; for I,
too, was listening for others.
" Now," he said, as he threw the last of the
sheets of paper upon the table and looked
smilingly across at me, " what do you think
of it ? "
As an original anti-slavery man and as a
" war Republican," I had only admiration and
enthusiasm to express, and I made an effort to
express them ; but his keen eye saw that I
had something else on my mind.
" Out with it ! " he said. " If you have any

UNCLE SAM'S WEB-FEET

143

criticism to make, make it ; I 'd like to know
what it is."
It required much courage and firmness to
comply, but I came up to the mark bravely.
"Well, Mr. Lincoln, just in one place. Where
you speak of Uncle Sam's web-feet  "

"What do you thine of it?"
A ringing laugh interrupted me. " Not ex
actly the thing, eh ? I thought you 'd point
at that. I won't strike it out, though. The
plain people will like it. It's just what I
mean to say."
I went back to my own room, and thought
the matter over ; and it was not long before

144 LINCOLN AT WORK
I began to understand what he meant to say.
Somehow or other, writing precisely as he did
write, he had managed to express a terrific,
biting, withering scorn for all false patriotism
and its many hypocrisies, at the same time
when he conveyed to other minds, from his
own, the cheerfulness of a growing and well-
grounded trust that the final victory of the
national cause was already assured. In its
immediate effect that letter was like the
winning of a great battle, won for the Union
armies by their commander-in-chief, sitting
alone at his old-fashioned writing-desk by the
southerly window of the White House.

INCOLN

; OMEBODY has asked the question,
"Did President Lincoln ever ac
tually complain of being tired phys
ically ? " Somebody else has as
serted that he was never seen to lie doAvn in
the daytime. There are not many persons now
living who can testify accurately with refer
ence to these very unimportant matters of per
sonal history. In Mr. Lincoln's earlier day he
was a remarkable pedestrian. He was also a
good boxer, and was regarded as an all but
unconquerable wrestler. It is recorded that
he could lift over a half-ton avoirdupois. A
man who could split rails all day and then read
laAV all the evening afterward was assuredly
a phenomenon of bodily endurance. In his
many political campaigns his feats of contin
uous travelling and oratory have probably not
been surpassed by the similar performances of
any other man.
It was after he became president of the
United States that his toughness of both bodily
and mental fibre received its severest testing.
145

146 LINCOLN AT WORK
From the hour of his arrival in Washington in
1861 the great burden of his responsibilities,
not to be estimated by ton weights, rested
upon his heart and brain rather than upon his
corporeal shoulders. It was of this load that
he spoke to a friend when he complained that
it was slowly killing him. He was dying by
inches internally, while his sinews were as good
as ever.
The continually arriving swarms of office-
seekers were very little more than so many
flies, some of them gadflies, to be endured
philosophically and brushed away. They were
time-wasters. His habits of all sorts were as
regular as clockwork. The mere routine duties
of the executive office began for him as soon
as he was out of bed. He was often at Avork
at his desk before breakfast. It may also be
said that his toils continued, with but little in
terruption or relaxation, until he went to bed
again ; and this was often at a late hour.
Moreover, there may have been, before any
great battle or after a great defeat, a night of
sleeplessness when brain and heart worked on
and when the body itself was unable to rest
very Avell.
As to his ever lying down in the daytime, I
can distinctly remember a case in point. There
was one particular occasion when Mr. Lincoln

LINCOLN'S GREAT DISCOVERY 147
did lie doAvn and in the forenoon. That he did
so may have been in part because he Avas tired
and the day was warm, but it was much more
for an altogether different reason.
In the spring of 1864 a man by the name of
Grant, already distinguished for remarkable
efficiency in the West, was appointed to the
command of all the land forces of the United
States. Up to the date of his appointment he
and Mr. Lincoln had not met, and their per
sonal acquaintanceship began under somewhat
difficult circumstances. It is true that they
had corresponded by mail and telegraph, but
each was as yet a good deal of a stranger to
the other.
At the time of General Grant's arrival in
Washington, to assume especially the direction
of the Army of the Potomac, I was in bed
with the typhoid fever. Weeks passed before
I was able to return to my desk at the White
House. When at last my convalescence reached
the stage for walking about, I chose a Sunday
morning for my first visit, not caring to en
counter the work-day throngs of all sorts. My
latch-key let me into the house, and I walked
around the lower floor, from room to room,
without meeting anybody in particular. "Then
I climbed the stairs, and went to my own, the
northeast room. I found my table heaped

148 LINCOLN AT WORK
with accumulated papers, which promised su
perabundance of work for me as soon as I
should be able to get at it ; and I was glad to
turn away. Across the hall was Mr. Nicolay's
room, but neither he nor Colonel Hay was
there. The hall door of the President's room was
open, and I sauntered over toward it. I can
remember that I was feeling blue and out of
sorts, besides being nervously anxious about
the political and military situation. I looked
in ; and there was Mr. Lincoln stretched out at
full length upon the sofa, his hands folded over
the top of his head. Two cushions lifted his
shoulders, and assisted in giving him a com
fortable, lounging position. There was a broad
smile upon his face like contentment, and he
only raised his head a little to speak to me, bid
ding me come in. I went and brought a chair
to the sofa so that I could sit down facing him.
Very kind, very encouraging were his inquiries
about my illness and his advice concerning
needful prudence. He had also instructions
to give, and there were varied topics for con
versation ; but I had a special inquiry in my
mind, and I engineered an opportunity for
making it.
" Now, Mr. Lincoln," I said, " what sort of
a man is Grant ? I 've never seen him. He

LINCOLN'S GREAT DISCOVERY 149
has taken hold here while I have been laid up.
What do you think of him ? "
Up came the President, turning over and
leaning upon an elbow ; and he laughed one of
his long, peculiar, silent laughs before he re
plied : " Well, Stoddard, I hardly know what
to think of him altogether. He 's the quietest
little fellow I ever saw."
" How is that ? " I persisted.
" Why, he makes the least fuss of any man
you ever knew. I believe two or three times
he has been in this room a minute or so before
I kneAv he was here. It 's about so all around.
The only evidence you have that he 's in any
place is that he makes things git ! Wherever
he is, things move ! "
He Avas growing very much in earnest, and
there was something like a glow upon his sal
low, deeply marked countenance. There were
several other remarks made, or questions and
answers, which I cannot now recall ; but my
main point was reached at last.
"But how about Grant's generalship?" I
ventured to inquire. " Is he going to be the
man?" As all are aware, that tremendous question
had been asked by the President and by the
nation of several successive commanders, and
the responses had not been altogether satisfac-

150

LINCOLN AT WORK

tory. Mr. Lincoln was now half sitting up,
and he emphasized his reply with his long up
lifted forefinger.
" Stoddard, Grant is the first general I 've
had. He 's a general ! "

"Grant is the first general I've had."

" How do you mean, Mr. Lincoln ? "
" Well, I '11 tell you what I mean. You know
hoAv it 's been with all the rest. As soon as I
put a man in command of the army, he 'd come
to me with a plan of a campaign, and about as
much as say, ' Now, I don't believe I can do it ;
but, if you say so, I'll try it on,' and so put the

LINCOLN'S GREAT DISCOVERY 151
responsibility of success or failure upon me.
They all wanted me to be the general. Now,
it is n't so with Grant. He has n't told me what
his plans are. I don't know, and I don't want
to. know. I 'm glad to find a man that can go
'ahead without me."
I wanted to hea,r as much more as I could,
and what I said next I don't know, but it net
tled him. It made him sit up on the sofa and
talk right at me.
" You see, Stoddard, when any of the rest
set out on a campaign, they 'd look over matters
and pick out some one thing they were short
of, and they knew I could n't give 'em, and tell
me they could n't hope to win unless they had
it; and it was most generally cavalry."
Perhaps it was an absurd memory connected
with past impossible army requisitions that
made him pause and laugh so heartily, and he
went on : " Now, when Grant took hold, I
was waiting to see what his pet impossibility
would be ; and I reckoned it would be cavalry,
as a matter of course, for we hadn't horses
enough to mount even what men we had.
There were fifteen thousand, or thereabouts,
up at Harper's Ferry, and no horses to put
them on. Well, the other day Grant sends to
me about those very men, just as I expected ;
but what he wanted to know was whether he

152 LINCOLN AT WORK
should make infantry of 'em, or disband 'em.
He did n't ask impossibilities of me, and he 's
the first general I 've had that did n't."
It was plain enough, therefore, why he was
lying down so cheerfully that sunny Sunday
morning. No doubt he was tired, internally,
perhaps externally ; but there was not any look
of weariness upon his face. He would have
been ready for and equal to any amount of
mere bodily exertion. It was a sense of relief
which had put him on the sofa. Somebody
else was playing the part of Atlas for him, at
last. He had discovered another pair of
shoulders as strong as his own, and he believed
that for military burdens they were stronger.
He was not the only man Avho has found all
his muscles and nerves relax under the grate
ful breath of deliverance.
Long years afterward the substance of this
conversation was repeated to Grant himself.
It Avas after the close of his second presidential
term. Already the question of Lincoln's in
terference with army management had been
the subject of extended and acrimonious dis
cussion. The general's commentary upon Mr.
Lincoln's somewhat humorous declaration cov
ering his own case as well as the careers of his
less successful predecessors was exceedingly
emphatic. Never, he said, at any time had the

LINCOLN'S GREAT DISCOVERY 153
President interfered with him. Always he
had given unstinted, unquestioning support.
The Sunday morning nap of the tired chief
magistrate and commander-in-chief was there
fore a curious result and index of a great and
welcome change which had come. He had
discovered a genuinely great general.

>0W! I want to hear it all. Tell
it as rapidly as you can. Where
did you go, and what did you
learn ? "
There was no other person in the President's
office at the White House. He was sitting in
a chair near the sofa, with a great upright rack
of roller war-maps behind him. He had
pointed me to a chair in front of him, and I sat
down to make my report of affairs in the
Southwest. The hall outside was crowded
with people of all sorts and ranks, impatiently
awaiting their turns to come in; and they
seemed to give a kind of emphasis to his
demand for conciseness. Nevertheless, I had
something "to tell that he was determined to
hear before he would attend to anybody else.
" I went straight from here to St. Louis," I
replied. "Then down the Mississippi to Mem
phis. From there I went up the White River
to Duval's Bluff, and across country to Little
Rock. I finished there, and went down the
Arkansas River and up the Mississippi again.
154

TAKE THAT TO STANTON 155
I went everywhere and talked with everybody,
army men and civilians."
" First, then, hoAv about General Washburn
and Memphis and West Tennessee. Is he all
right ? "
" Things there are all you could ask for, as
to administration ; " and I was glad — for I liked
Washburn — to be able to give a thoroughly
good report of that important post and district,
without any flaAvs or faultfinding. The Presi
dent also expressed great satisfaction, for evil
tongues had been busy.
" Now for Arkansas," said he. " How
about the charges against General Steele ? "
His face had put on an unusually dark and
anxious look, and he was silently tapping the
floor with one foot.
" They are all nonsense ! " I said Avith some
energy. " There is n't a dishonest hair in his
head. He can't be held responsible, though,
for all that 's going on in his department."
" Of course not," said Mr. Lincoln, " but
what is the real truth about the corn-contract
frauds ? "
" I guess I '11 have to tell you just how that
is, Mr. Lincoln. The contractors did make a
great deal of money, but the government
did n't lose any."
" I don't see how that can be," he interrupted

156 LINCOLN AT WORK
me, his face clouding more angrily. " I 'm.glad
about Fred Steele, though. I always liked
him. I like his brother, too, that 's here in
Congress. Finish your story about that corn.
How was it ? "
" Well," I responded, " the way of it was
this : Just before we marched in the planters
of the Arkansas River bottom-lands didn't
care to put in any cotton. They had no mar
ket for it, you know. The Confederate army
and other folks were sure to need corn, though ;
and so all that tremendous stretch of country,
best land in the world, was planted in corn.
The crops came up fine. Sixty to a hundred
bushels the acre, maybe. Then our troops
came in, and the Confederate army marched
away. So did most of the planters ; and the
colored people took to their heels, every which
way. There was the corn, and nobody to
gather it. It wasn't the property of the
Confederate government, so far as anybody
knew ; and there was a great deal more of it
than General Steele's army needed. So the
contractors came in to prevent all those mag
nificent crops from being wasted. It pained
them to think of so much good corn rotting in
the field. They had all the contracts for sup
plying the Army of the Cumberland, the
Army of the Tennessee, and as far down as

TAKE THAT TO STANTON 157
New Orleans. They were to be paid, of
course, at Illinois and Indiana prices ; and the
contract figures were pretty good ones. They
ran their own steamers up the Arkansas
River from landing to landing, and at every
tie-up place they found trains of six-mule-team
wagons heaped with splendid corn, just what
our army needed. How the quartermasters
came to be so kind as to land the wagons and
teams I can't say, for I could n't prove it ; but
every ear of that corn was husked by a Union
soldier, black or Avhite, on leave of temporary
absence, or detailed for special service, at a
dollar a day. The contractors got the
corn." " And the boys got the money ? "
" They told me they did, cash down, at the
end of the day ; and they enjoyed the work ;
and it made them feel like being at home
again, you know."
The President leaned back in his chair and
laughed merrily, and then he studied hard for
a moment. "That's all about that," he exclaimed.
" The government was n't really robbed, after
all. I '11 see about it. We 've more important
matters on hand just now. What I want to
hear you tell is, how about the reports of
cruelty to prisoners of war by any of our

158

LINCOLN AT WORK

commanders down yonder ? Tell me exactly
what you found out about that."
" There is n't any truth in those accusations,
Mr. Lincoln. Not one word, from first to
last."

'Every ear was husked by a Union soldier.

"As to the guerrillas, I mean."
" Even as to them our generals and post ,
commanders are entirely innocent. They
have been exceedingly lenient. There is a

TAKE THAT TO STANTON 159
kind of story, there, though. I got it first
from some Arkansas people, and then, a little
straighter, from a cavalry sergeant while I
was riding across from the White River to the
Arkansas. He was in command of the escort
they gave me. I saw what regiment he be
longed to, and I asked him : ' Sergeant, what
did you and your boys do with the squad of
Sash Watkin's guerrillas that you took week
before last ? Did you let 'em go, or did they
get away ? ' He looked me in the eye for a
moment, and then he laughed and said : ' Colo
nel, if you was under Steele here, I'd never
tell you ; but, seein' it's you, I just will. Do
you see that neck o' woods away yonder,
south? That's where we took 'em. They
Avere the worst kind, you know. Cutthroats,
every man of 'em. There was thirteen of 'em.'
There he held in, and I asked him again,
' Well, did they get away, or did you let 'em
go ? ' ' Colonel,' he said, ' I did n't reckon you
knew about that. Anyhow ! So ! We had
plenty o' rope, and so we let 'em go.' "
" I don't quite get it," interposed Mr. Lin
coln. "How is it?"
" The trouble was," I went on, " that these
robbers were ruining the country. They were
torturing, murdering, burning houses, destroy
ing everything. General Dick Taylor, on the

160 LINCOLN AT WORK
Confederate side, made a kind of tacit agree
ment with General Steele that all guerrillas
were to be shot on sight, and Taylor's men
lived up to it pretty well, to protect their own
people. Our boys at first would only bring
'em in and report 'em, and after that they
were treated mostly as prisoners of war, or
discharged as civilians not liable to be held or
exchanged. You see, that sent them back
again to their old work worse than ever.
Then our boys got their blood up, and they
did n't take the trouble to bring in any more
guerrillas. The point of it is, Mr. Lincoln,
that, if a captured guerrilla was marched out
of a camp, and given a start of say fifty yards,
and told to run his best, and if good shots be
gan to practise on him at a fifty yards' range,
why, then, if they did n't hit him, he got away,
and the boys could report it, if they cared to
mention it at all. Now, if he was a very bad
case indeed, and if he was given a mule to
ride home on, and if a rope from a tree over
head had a loop at the end of it that was slip-
knotted around his neck, a cut of a Avhip would
start that mule on a run. There was no need
then for making any report of that cutthroat.
They had let him go."
The President was silent, and his face was
darkly cloudy. He even shut his eyes and sat

TAKE THAT TO STANTON 161
very still for a moment. Then he picked up a
card and wrote something on it.
" Stoddard," he said as he wrote, " go and
make your report to Stanton at once, just as
you 've made it to me. All of those papers
[naming them] can be quashed at once, and
I 'm very glad of it. But Stanton must know
right off."
" He 's so crowded over there," I said, " I
don't know that he '11 see me."
" Hand in that," he replied, giving me the
card. "He must see you instantly."
There Avere various matters in my report
concerning affairs in the Southwest in which
the secretary of war might be supposed to be
interested, and I hurried over to the war office.
It was in the second story of the old brick
building west of the White House. The hall
way leading to the rooms occupied by the sec
retary was almost densely thronged with army
officers of all grades, from major-general down,
Avith Senators, Congressmen, and other bril
liant civilians also. I once more doubted my
chances for seeing the somewhat brusque war
minister that day ; but Mr. Lincoln's card
went in, and I did not have to Avait a minute.
His own room, with its corps of clerks and
aides, had no privacy, and he led me out of it
to a little coop of a waiting-room at the end

162 LINCOLN AT WORK
of the hall, with no furniture in it but a divan
sofa before the window. On this we sat
down, and he cross-questioned me thoroughly.
He seemed as pleased as the President had
been at my exonerations of prominent army
officers. He was saying as much emphatically, when
one of his clerks came excitedly in, and handed
him several wide slips of the thin yellow paper
on which telegraphic despatches from the
army were generally duplicated. Mr. Stanton
took and read, and at once handed a set of the
slips to me. " Read that, Mr. Secretary ! " he
shouted. "Read that! Take it to his Ex
cellency ! Fast as you can go ! It's the turn
ing-point of the war ! Hurrah ! No more
work in this office to-day ! "
Out he dashed into the hall, and he was ac
tually jumping up and dowm while he roared
into that jam of patriotic celebrities the first
complete neAvs of Sheridan's great victory in
the valley of Virginia, over General Early.
Away I went to the Executive Mansion. On
the way I met others, to whom I shouted my
tidings ; but I did not delay a moment in
reaching Mr. Lincoln's room, a kind of small
procession rushing in with me. The rush
grew fast as I handed Mr. Lincoln the de
spatches and told him not only what was in

TAKE THAT TO STANTON

163

them, but also the very remarkable effect they
had produced upon the secretary of Avar.
" I think so, I think so," he remarked as he
read; "I guess Ave'll shut up shop, too. I

"Bead that!'

don't know that I care to do any more work
to-day." None of the rest of us did, at all events, and
the White House, like the war office, obtained
almost a half-holiday in which to celebrate
Phil Sheridan's famous " turning-point of the
war."

THE VOICE %M0 J°F THE SOUTH

jNCE there came a great and sudden
change to all the people of the
United States North and South.
So great and unexpected a calam
ity fell upon them that everyAvhere all men
and women stood still and looked into one an
other's faces, inquiring : " What shall we do
now ? How shall we go on Avithout Lincoln ? "
The most tremendous chapter in the later
history of the republic was ended ; but the
book was not closed, and what might next be
written was apparently beyond all human cal
culation. Just before this change the days had been
full of uproarious rejoicing over the return of
peace. It had been thankfully believed that
order and prosperity would speedily return,
after the long confusion and misery of the
Civil War, under the guidance of the strong
hand and steady brain which all the world had
learned to trust so well.
Lincoln was dead, and with him had passed
away the assured and settled policy which he
164

THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH 165
embodied. The terrible tidings went out over
the wires to all corners of the country, and it
flashed out under the sea to all the inhabited
earth. In all harbors the flags of the ships
came down to half-mast, and on the flagstaffs
of all forts and camps, while the solemn thun
ders of the minute-guns sounded the requiem
of the murdered President of the United
States. After that there were days of an almost na
tional palsy, and recovery from it hardly came
until after the passage from the East to the
West of the most remarkable funeral proces
sion that the earth has ever witnessed.
There have been numberless word-pictures
of the manner in wrhich the tidings of Abra
ham Lincoln's assassination were received in
many cities and toAvns of this and other coun
tries, and these assist greatly in obtaining a
correct impression of the position which he
occupied in the hearts and minds of those Avho
would naturally be expected to honor him.
Somewhat less complete is the general under
standing of the effect produced by the sad
event upon the people of the vanquished Con
federacy and upon some other of our varied
national elements as they then existed. It is
true, however, that Mr. Lincoln had become
wonderfully well understood by the people of

166 LINCOLN AT WORK
the Southern States, in spite of all that had
been said against him.
Our. telegraphic system was then not at all
what it is now. For instance, there was yet a
great break in its . lines at the mouth of the
Ohio River at Cairo. The wires began again,
in one direction, at Duval's Bluff, on the White
River, in Arkansas. Between this point and
Cairo, and between Duval's Bluff and Memphis,
Tenn., a nearer point, all communication was
by steamboat. There was therefore a delay
of many hours in the arrival of the dread news
at the headquarters of the Seventh Army Corps
at Little Rock, Ark. The SouthAvest had been
even more bitterly secession in feeling and de
termination than any of the Middle or Atlantic
Southern States. ' There were yet armed forces
in the field, refusing to disband or surrender ;
and the people generally were outspokenly
fierce with all the burning animosity of de
feat. The dawn was barely showing on the morn
ing of the second day after the assassination.
The sky was clear, promising one of the warm,
bright days of the Southern spring. At a lit
tle distance back from the southerly bank of
the Arkansas River, and near the middle of
the town, stood the old-fashioned, worn-out-
looking State House, surrounded by leafless

THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH 167
trees. In one wing of this building, on the
lower floor, was the office of the United States
marshal. It was also my sleeping-room at the
time, and at night contained two narrow camp
beds, for my brother was with me, an officer
in the Seventh. The sun had not yet risen
when I suddenly found myself sitting up in
bed and listening.
" Harry ! " I exclaimed. " Hark ! Do youv
hear that ? It 's a heavy gun from one of the
forts. What can that mean ? "
"The Confederates?" he said. "It can't
be that they are attacking. Preposterous."
" Listen ! Count ! There it comes again.
That 's a minute-gun ! Get up, Harry ! Secre
tary Seward is dead."
The meaning of that was that the illness of
the great New York statesman had been re
ported as possibly fatal, and my brother and I
had been brought up as his strong personal
admirers. We began at once to recall our
pleasant memories of his kindnesses to us,
and to sympathize with his family. Hardly,
however, were we upon our feet before there
came an excited hammering at the door. I
went to open it, and an officer thrust in his
bare head to exclaim huskily, " Colonel, Presi
dent Lincoln has been assassinated ! Don't
you hear the guns ? The news just came ! "

168 LINCOLN AT WORK
Away he went, and we stood still for a
moment, as if stunned.
"We must put on our black suits, Harry.
Only black, from head to foot."
So Ave did, but the nearest thing to mourn
ing goods that we could muster Avas our dinner
dress suits. We put them on in haste, yet
sloAvly ; and then we walked out through the
State House grounds to what was then the
main street. Hardly had we reached it when
we saAV a large, portly man coming up the
avenue. In one hand he carried a long, heavy,
naked bowie-knife ; in the other hand a red
silk handkerchief, with which he now and then
wiped his face.
" Lincoln is dead ! Lincoln is dead ! D — n ! "
— for this man was weeping bitterly and swear
ing, pouring forth angry curses upon the wretch
who had slain the good President. He had
been a Confederate Army officer, and also a
civil court official under the general Confeder
ate government. He did not look at us or
speak to us, and we walked on. He was in
many respects a representative man, belonging
to the educated higher class of the Southwest.
Not many yards beyond him we met a short,
gnarled, rugged sort of man who had been a
native Arkansas Unionist. He was of unusual
intelligence, and had recently been elected to

THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH

169

Congress by one of the Mississippi River
districts. He, too, was crying like a child as
he walked along, talking to himself about this

"Lincoln is dead ! Lincoln is dead !

disaster to the South; and he was all the
while swearing fiercely, as one who did not
know or care what he Avas saying. Not a
word did he speak to either of us, although he

170 LINCOLN AT WORK
knew us well ; and we passed on as two men
who were dreaming.
Wandering near a line of shanties that were
occupied by colored people, we saw a number
of men and women, half-clad, hurrying out to
fasten rude strips of black stuff at their
humble doorways. All of these were mourn
ing loudly, as if they had lost their father.
More and more did it seem like some im
probable dream, but only a few minutes later
I had to spring forward and restrain some
Union soldiers who were dashing furiously
along Avith their knives out, in hot pursuit of a
fugitive who was barely rescued from them.
" Why, Colonel," they told me, " Ave ought to
kill him ! When he heard of Lincoln's murder,
he said it was good enough for him ! "
They obeyed me, nevertheless, even while
they still angrily asserted that such fellows
ought to be shot or hanged. I can now re
member distinctly the bewildered, puzzled ex
pression on the war-bronzed faces of those
men. The next squad of soldiers that Ave saw came
running to me with a vociferous complaint.
" Colonel ! " they shouted. " Old Bernays
is opening his liquor store ! We told him not
to!" I had ordinarily only a doubtful authority in

THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH 171
any such direction, but this was an unusual
case. " Go back ! " I replied. " Tell him to shut
up at once. The provost marshal's men will
close every store in Little Rock as fast .as it 's
opened. Tell him he must n't think of selling
any liquor to-day."
With shouts of gratification the brave fel
lows ran back to deal with the unfeeling con
duct of " old Bernays."
Orders from the military authorities went
out rapidly, that the peace might be preserved
during such a time of excitement, but the
next development came as a complete sur
prise. Before and even during the Civil War,
Little Rock had been a notable headquarters
of the Masonic fraternity. They had there a
college building of their own. Not only wrere
they numerous and zealous, but they included
a large majority of the best citizens of the
town and the Avealthiest of the neighboring
planters. They were therefore peculiarly an influen
tial and representative body of men. Any
action taken by them might without question
be regarded as expressing vastly more than
merely local thought or feeling.
I had finished my breakfast, and had con-

172 LINCOLN AT WORK
versed with a number of Union officers at the
hotel and at the headquarters of General
Reynolds, commanding the department. I
had also been at the United States District
Courtroom, drafting the necessary memorial,
by order of the district judge, to be entered
upon the court records. I was coming out of
the State House when I was confronted by a
committee sent by the "Confederate Ma
sons," as they were sometimes called. Their
errand was to inform me that a " lodge of sor
row" Avas to be held at noon that day at their
hall, and that they wished me to come and
deliver a funeral address upon Abraham Lin
coln. In his death, they sadly declared, they
believed the people of the South had received
their last and most disastrous blow. They had
now lost the one true friend upon whom they
had relied for sure protection in the dark
future which Avas opened before them by the
result of the war.
There could be no refusal of such a request,
and I went with them to a yet more complete
surprise. The hall was croAvded with sombre-
faced men, a large part of whom Avere ex-
Confederate officers and soldiers, not a few,
indeed, yet Avearing their army uniforms.
Resolutions of respect and of fervid regret
were offered, and were adopted unanimously.

THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH 173
Never did I have a more attentive audience or
one that Avas seemingly in more perfect accord
with the spirit of what I Avas saying. That
Avas not all, either. That evening I was again
called upon to make a funeral address.
A densely packed assembly of Union
soldiers and of the citizens generally of Little
Rock gathered in the hall of the House of Rep
resentatives in the State House. Not even
here, however, could I discern any expression
of bereavement more sincere, more heartfelt,
than I had seen in the noon gathering at the
Masonic Hall. The whole was wonderful,
such as might never be forgotten, a sort of
flood of uncontrolled and uncontrollable feel
ing. Nevertheless, not the least striking fea
ture of the mourning for Lincoln was the fact
that the first " lodge of sorrow " of any kind,
south of the Ohio River, Avas composed of the
most intelligent as well as the most determined
of the supporters of the " lost cause " which
he had smitten to its death.

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