Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1869-11-04
SfIfft Story.
PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

Sflfft SI0fg.
PRESIDENT LINCOLN.
New and True story told OF the late
President.
During the summer of the most dis
astrous and doubtful year of the late
American war, the Colonel of New
Hampshire regiment lay for some weeks
extremely ill of camp fever, near Hamp-
tom Roads, in Virginia. Hearing of his
critical condition, his wife left her
Northern home, and, after much diff
Guilty, made her way to his bedside
Her cheerful presence and careful nurs-
ing 80 far restored him, that he was in
short time able to be transferred to
Washington.
In the Potomac river, the steamer In
which the invalid officer, Colonel Scott,
and his family, had taken passage, was
sunk. in a collision with large vessel,
in the night time. The crew and nearly
ali the soldiers on board, were rescued
or saved themselves; but amid the hor-
rible confusion of the scenes Colonel
Scott became separated from his wife,
and she was lost. The Colonel was
picked up in the water by the crew OF
the larger steamer, and under his direc-
tion every effort was made to discover
his wife, or rather her body, for all hope
of finding her alive was abandoned.
The sad search was fruitless it was re-
sumed in the morning, the people along
theshore, humane Confederates, lending
their aid. But the gray sullen river re-
fused to give up its dead, and the young
officer. half frantic with grief, was
compeIled to go on to Washington.
Within a week, however, he received
word that the body of the lady had
been washed on shore; that those good
country people, generous foes, had
secured it, cared for it, and were keep
ing it for him.
1t happened that inst at that time
imperative orders WIRE issued from the
War Department prohibiting all inter-
course with the peninsula-a necessary
precartion against the premature dis
closure of important military plans. So
it was with some misgivings that Colo
mel Scott applied to Mr.. Secretary Stan
ton for leave to return to Virginia, on his
melancholy duty.
''Impossible, Colonel" replied Mr..
Stanton mo one can have leave to go
down the river at this time on any pri-
vate mission whatever. Our present
exigencies demand the most stringent
regulations, and hope l need not say
to you. that no merely personal consid-
GRAFTON should be allowed to interfere
with great national interests. Your
Your case is sad one, but this is a
critical, periloss, cruel time. The dead
must bury the dead. J"
N fod
but the busy Secretary cut him short
with another impossible" from which
there was absolutely no appeal. He
turned to his hetel, quite overwhelmed.
Fortunately, he was that afternoon
visited by friend, to whom he told the
story of his unsuccessful application and
sad perplexity, and who Immediately
exclaimed, why not apply to the
PRESIDENT"
The Colonel had but little hope, but
that the plan was worth
trying, drove to the White House.
They were too late. 1t was Saturday
evening, and Mr. Lincoln had gone to
spend Sunday at Soldiers Rest, his
summer retreat. This was but few
miles from town, and the Colonel's in
domitable friend proposed that they
should follow him out, and they went.
There was then popular belief that all
the wronged, the troubled, and suffer-
ing could find a refuge in Father
Abrahm's capacious bosom a belief
that was not far out of the way. Yet
there were times when overburdened,
wcaried, tortured, the patriarch longed
to clear that asylum of his forlorn t.
mates, to bolt and bar and double-lock
against the world; times when life be-
came too hard and perplexing for his
genial, honest nature, too serious and
tragic and rascally thing by half.
1t happened, unluckily, that the poor
Colonel and his friend, found the Presi-
dent in one of his most respondent
moods. He was in hi2 little private par
lor, alone in the cleaning. He was
lounging loosely in a large rocking-cha air
jutting over it in all directions. His
slippered feet were exalted, his rough
head was thrown back, his long throat
bare he was in his shirt sleeves. Yes,
the genuine Yankee dbasdon-make the
most of it.
He turned upon his visitors with a
look of almost savage inquiry. There
was, indeed, in his usually pleasant eyes,
a wild angry gleam-a something like
the glare of worried animal at bay.
Colonel Scott proceeded very modest
ly to tell his story but the President in
terrupted him, to say brusq:ely, go to
Stanton; this is his business
az have been to him, Mr.. President,
and he will do nothing for me-"
"You have been to him and got your
answer, and still presume to come to me!
Am 1 to have no rest ? noprivacy Must
be dsgged to my last fastness, and
worried to death by inches! Mr.. Stan
tonhas done just right. He knows what
he is about. Your demands are unreas-
enable, sir. u
"But Mr. Lincoln, thought you
would feel for me-"
Feel for you! Good God!I I have to
feel for five hundred thousand more un-
fortunate than you. We are at war sir
don't YOU know we are at war? Sor-
aow is the lot of all; bear your share
like q man and a soldier"
.'I try to, Mr.. President, but it seems
hard. My devoted wife lost her life
from coming to nurse me in my sickness,
and I cannot even take her body home
to my children"
"Well. she ought not to have gone
down to the army. She could have
stayed at home. That is the place for
women. But, if they will go tearing
about the country lin such times as these,
and running into all sorts of danger,
they must take the consequences! Not
but that am sorry for you, Colonel
AS for my wife she's at rest, and wish
/ were.
Saying this, the President leaned back
wearily in his chair, and closed his eyes
not noticing, except by slight wave of
his hand, the departure of his visitors.
1 am not ashamed to confess that my
friends head tossed restlessly that night
upon pillow wet with tears that he
was desperate and resentful, utterly un-
to the DEGREES of Providence
and the War Department; and that he
thnuQht Abraham LINCOLN as hard as he