New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1871-11-09
President Lincoln.
4 New and True Story Told OF the Late
President.


the Colonel of New Hampshire regiment lay
for some weeks extremely i'll of camp fever,
near Hampton Roads, In Virginia. Hearing
of his critical condition, his wife left her forth.
ern home, and, after much difficulty, made her
way to his bedside. Her cheerful presence aud
careful uurshg so far restored him that he was
in a short time able 70 be transferred to Wash
ington.
In the Potomac river, the steamer In which
the invalid officer, Colonel Scott, aud his family
had taken passage, was sunk in collision with
a larger vessel in the night time The crew
and nearly all the soldiers on board were res
cued or saved themselves; but amid the horri-
BILE confusion of the scenes Colonel Scott be-
came 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 di-
rection every effort was made to discover his
wife, or Father her body, for all hope of finding
her alive was abandoDed. The sad search was
fruitless; il was resumed in the morning. the
people along the shore, humane Confederates,
lending their aid. But the gray, sullen river
refused to give up it's dead, and the young
officer, half frantic with grief, was compelled
to 90 on to Washington. Within week, how
ever. 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 keeping it for him.
1t happened that just at that time impera-
tive orders were issued from the War Depart
ment prohibiting all intercourse with the Pen
insula-a necessary precaution against the
premature disclosure Of important military
plans. So il was with some misgivings that
Colonel Scott applied to Mr.. Secretary Stan
ton for leave to return to Virginia on his melan-
sholy duty.
Impossible, Colonel" replied Mr.. Stanton ;
"no one can have leave to go down the river at
this time on any private mission whatever.
Our present exigences demand the most strin-
gent regulations, and hope need not say to
you that no merely personal considerations
should be allowed to interfere with great ma
tional interests. Your case is sad one, but
this is critical perilous, cruel time. The
dead must bury the dead"
The Colonel would have entreate ed, but the
busy Secretary cut him short with another
"imposs ble," from which there was absolutely
no appeal. He went forth from the presence,
and returned to his hotel, quite overwhelmed.
Fortunately he was that afternoon visited
by a friend, to whom he told the story of his
unsuccessful application and sad perplexi'y,
and who Immediately exclaimed, "Why not
apply to the PRESIDENT
The Colonel had but little hope but &C
knowedging that the plan was worth trying,
drove to the White House.
They were too lase 1t was Saturday even
ing. and Mr.. Lincoln had gone to spend Sunday
at Soldiers Home, his summer retreat. This
was but a few miles from town, and the
Colonel's indomitable friend proposed that
they should follow him out, and they went.
There was then a popular belief that all the
wrcnged, the troubled, and suffering could fad
a refuge in Father Abranam's capacious
bosom - belief that was not lar out of the
way. Yet there were times when overbur.
Gened. wearied, tortured, the patriarch longed
TO clear that asylum of his forlorn inmates, to
bolt and bar aud double lock against the world ;
times when life became too hard and perplex-
ing for this genial, honest nature, too serious
and tragic and rascslly a thing by half
1t happened. unluckily. THAT the poor Colonel
and his friend found the President in one OF his
most respondent moods. He was in his little
private parlOr, alone in the cleaning. lie was
lounging loosely In a large rocking -chaIr, jut
ting over IL in all directions. HIS sippered
feet were exhalted his rough head was thrown
back, his long throat bare; he was In bis shirt
sleeves. Yes, dear. fastidous English reader
il was the genuine Yankee obdndOn-make the
most of it,
He turned upon his visitors with a look OF
almost s.vage inquiry. There was, indeed in
his usually pleasant eyes a wild, angry gleam-
a netting like the glare of q worried animal
ct bay.
Oh. Scott proceeded very modestly to tell his
story; but the President interrupted him, to
say bru.quely. Go to Stanton /; this is his
business
Il have been to him, Mr.. President, and he
will do nothing for me-
"You have been to him aud got your answer,
and still presume TO come to me Am | to
have no rest, no privacy? Must l be logged
TO my last isstness, and worried to death by
inches? Mr.. Stanton has done just right. He
knows what he is about. Your demands are
unreasonable, sir"
Z" But Mr.. Lincoln, thought you would feel
for me-"
Feel Tor yen? Good God, have TO feel
for 100000 more unfortunate than you. We
are at war, sir don't you know We are at war +?
Sorrow is the lot OF ali; bear your share like a
man and a soldier
81 try to, Mr.. President, bnt it seems hard.
Ny devoted wife lost her life from coming to
nurse me 10 my sickness. and l cannot even
take her body home to my children"
well, she ought not 10 have gone down to
the army. She could have staid at home. That
is the place for women. But If they will 20
tearing about the country In such times
these, and running into ali sorts OF danger, they
must take the consequences. Not but that l
ain sorry for you, Colonel. As for m y wife,
she's at rest, and / wish / were
Saying this, the President leaned back wear
lily in his chair, and closed his eyes. not MOTTO
Jog. except by slight wave OF his hand, the
departure of bis visitors.
1 am not ashamed to confess that my friends
head tossed resilessly that night upon a pillow
vet with tears that be was desperate and
rssentful, utterly unresi gned TO the DEGREES OF
Providence and the War Department; and
that be thought Abraham Lincoln as hard as
he was ugly and as inhuman as he was IN
calmly.
Toward morning he fell asleep, and slept
late. Before he was fully dressed there came
a quick knock at the door of mis- chamber, and
he opened it to President Lincoln.
The good man came forward, pale and eager,
tears glistening in bis eyes, aud graspsd the
Coloners hand, saying, Il treated you bru-
talld last night. | ask your pardon. l was
utterly tired out, badgered TO death. / geDsr-
ally become abb 1T as savage as a wildcat By
Saturday night, drained dry of the milk OF
human Kindness / must have seemed 10 you I
the very gorilla the rebels paint me. ] was
sorry for it when you were gone. / could not
sleep a moment last night, SO / thought I'd |
irive into town in the cool of the morning, and |
make it all right. Fortunately | had little |
difficulty in finding you"
"This is very good of you. Mr.. President"
aid the Colonel, deeply moved.
mo, il isn't; but That was very bad OF me, /
asst night. | never should have forgiven my |
elf if had left that piece of ugly work stand.
That was a noble wife of yours, Colonel. You
vere happy man to have such noble woman
o love you and you must De q good fellow,
r such q woman would never have risked so
much for you. And what grand women there
l. q