Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1877-11-03
Gales aud Sketehss.
A SOLDIERS DISTRESS,
A STORY OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.


trous and doubtful year of the late Amer.
lean war. the Colonel of a New Hamp-
shire regiment lay for some weeks ex-
tremely i'll OF camp fever, near Hamp-
ton Roads in Virginia. Hearing of his
critical condition. his wife left her North
ern home, and, after much difficulty,
made her way to his bedside. Her cheer
iul presence and careful nursing so far
restored him that he was in a short time
able to be transferred TO Washington.
In the Potomac river, the steamer in
which the invalid officer, Colonel Scott,
and his wife 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 rescued or
saved them selves; but amid the horrible
confusion of the scene, 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 direction every ef-
fort 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 resumed in the
morning. the people along the shore, hu-
name Contederates, lending their aid.
But the gray. sullen river refused to give
up its dead, and the young officer, half
frantic with grief. was compelled to 90
to Washington. Within week, howev-
er, he received word from below that the
body of woman had been washed on
shore, but those good country people.
generous foes, had secured it, cared for
1t and were keeping it for him.
1t happened just at that time impera-
tive orders were issued from the War
Department prohibiting all intercourse
with the peninsula. Colonel Scott ap-
piled to Secretary Stanton for leave to re-
turn to Virginia on bis melancholy duty.
impossible, Colonel" replied Mr..
Stanton firmly; no one can have leave to
go down the river at this time on any
private business whatever. Our present
exigencies demand the most stringent
precautions, and | hope l need not say
to you that no merely personal consider
ations should be allowed to interfere with
great national interests. Your case Is q
sad one, but this is critical, perilous,
cruel time. The dead must bury their
dead"
The Colonel would have entreated, but
the busy Secretary cut him short with an
other "impossbie, from which there was
absolutely no appeal. He returned to his
hotel quite overwhelmed.
Fortunately, he was visited that after
noon by friend, 10 whom he told the
story OF his unsuccessful application and
sad perpexity, and who Immediately ex-
claimed; why not apply to the Presi-
dent P"
Thh Colonel had but little hope, but ad-
hitting that the plan was worth trying,
drove with his friend to the White House.
They were too late. 1t was Saturday
evening and Mr.. Lincoln had gone to
spend Sunday at Soldiers Rest, his Sum-
mer retreat. This was few miles from
town, and the Coloners indomitable friend
proposed that they should follow him out,
and they went.
There was then popular belief that all
the wronged, the troubled, and suffering
could find refuge in Father AbralAm's"
capacious bosom; belief not far out of
the way. Yet there were times when,
over-burdened, wearied, tortured, the pa
triarch longed to clear that ylum of its
forlorn inmates, to bolt and double lock
it against the world; times when life be-
came too hard and perplexing for his ge-
NAL, honest nature, too serious and tragic
and rascally thing by half.
1t happened, unluckily, that the poor
Colonel and his friend found the President
in one of his most despondent and detected
moods. He was in his little private par
lor, alone in the cleaning. He was loung-
ing loosely in large rocking-chair. jut-
ting 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, dear, fastidious
English reader, it was genuine Yankee
abandon-make the most of it.
lie turned upon his visitors with look
of almost savage inquiry. There was, In
his usually pleasant eyes, wild angry
gleam-a something like the glare OF
worried animal at bay.
Colonel Scott proceeded very modestly.
to tell his story; but the President inter-
rupted him to say brusquely, "Go to STAN
ton, this is his business"
81 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 !
Ami to have no rest? no privacy Must
be dogged to my last fastness, and wor-
ried to death by inches Mr.. Stanton has
done just right. He knows what he is
about. Your demands are unreasonable
but. MIR. Lincoln, thought you would
feel tor me.'
Feel for you! Good God, have to feel
for 500. 900 more unfortunate than you.
We are at war, sir; don't you know we
are at WARP Sorry is the lot Of all; bear
your share like man and soldier"
II try to, Mr.. President, but it seems
hard. My devoted wife lost her life for
coming to nurse me in my sickness, and |
cannot even take her body to nv children"
"Well, she ought not to have come
down to the army. She should have staid
at home. But If they will 60 tearing
about the country in such times as these
and running into all sorts of dangers, they
must take the consequences mot but that
am sorry for you. Colonel. As for your
wife, she is 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
-. H. Il 4 ..I IA srta tasv