Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1873-04-11
a New Anecdote of Lincoln.
HOW HE SAVED A CONDEMNED SOLDIERS
LIFE.

%NO' 80 "a h-p n
LIFE.
New anecdotes of President Lincoln
are sufficiently rare, but here is one
which is authentic and characteristic
whether we consider the presidents S
goodness of heart or the naivete with
which it found expression. When Col.
Mulligan's Chicago regiment lay in camp
away down South, one of the privates,
call him Barney D., in a moment of
passion and intoxication, stabbed and
terribly mangled a comrade. Barney
was one of the hard characters of the
command, and it was a matter of no
surprise when the court-martial sentenc-
ed him, for his last and gravest Of his
many otfenses, TO be shot, ana fixed the
day of his execution. Meanwhile, to
the surprise of every one, including the
surgeons, the wounded man began to re-
cover, and was soon pronounced out OF
danger. Public opinion took the usual
turn.
1t was thought a pity, after all. to
shoot fine young fellow, such as Bar
ney was in his better moments; besides,
he was one of the boys, had been like
them in Chicago, grown up with them,
enlisted with them, and fought with
them. A movement looking to petit
tion for the culprit's pardon was set on
foot, in which none joined more heartily
than the wounded man, and the camp,
which but yesterday was for lynching
Barney, now yearned to save his life
But the general commanding had ap-
proved the finding of the court-martial
and only the president could interfere,
and the regiment was encamped away
from the telegraph lines. So that, though
the necessary documents had been for
warded, backed by strong recommend
ations, there were grave doubts if the
merciful message, which Mr.. Lincoln
was almost certain to send, would reach
the camp in time. An express was sent
to the nearest telegraph station, thirty
miles away, TO carry the message with
all haste-and all waited impatiently.
The night before the fatal day arrived !;
Barney was to be shot at sunrise next
day. No reprieve had arrived, and re-
luctantly the adjutant prepared the nec-
essary orders, detailed the firing party
and arranged for the parade. The night
wore on. 1t is safe to say that not an
eye was closed in the camp. and every
ear was strained for the hoof-beats from
east. Past midnight, one, two, three
o'clock. There were movements in the
gray eastern sky; the brilliant southern
stars paled it was almost dawn.
Suddenly faint sound was heard, as
of shout, away to the east. The ex-
citement became electric. Men rushed
from their tents, half dressed, and gath
cred in anxious groups. The officers
we're hardly less excited. and mingled
with them. Then in rapid succession
we're heard challenge and reply as the
advancing party passed sentry after SEN
try, then the tramp and splash of hoofs,
and, at last, burst into view the long
looked-for messenger, covered with mud
from head to foot, wan and worn out,
his horse painting and travel-stained and
bruised, for they had ridden thirty miles
since midnight along roads that were
sluices of mud and water. The rider
held his way straight to the colonePs
tent and delivered his telegram. 1t read
thus:-
WAsHINGToN.--
Col. Mulligan-If you haven't shot
Barney D.--yet-don't
A. LINCOLN.
They hadn't and they didn't