The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1880-02-14
A STORY OF LINCoLN'S FIRMNESS

On raw. gloomy day i'll the Winter Of
1864, Colonel Senter and the writer had
an appointment with President Lincoln
on business connected with the protec-
ton of the commerce of the lakes. The
war was at the time the almost exclusive
subject of public thought or private con-
versat;on. The streets of Washington
were filled with soldiers and army officers
and the whole city was apparently no.
thing but a great camp. to and from
navy were constantly going and leaving
The ante-rooms of the White House were
filled daily from morning until evening
with members of Congress, soldiers,
sailors, men and women of every age and
nation, all bent upon getting personal
interview with the President. Some
times the rush of visitors was SO great
that they could not be accommodated in
the corridors of the White House. and
the order would be given to admit no
one except privileged persons in the
building.
On the afternoon in question, as We
were about to be nshered into the private
room Of the President, well-known
lawyer from Ohio seized both of us some
what roughly by the shoulders AMI begged
us, in earnest tones, for the love of God
and humanity, to ask Mr.. Lincoln to see
him and his client, if only for one mo-
ment. ''All day he said, I'VE have
tramped YEARLY by the door. hoping in
vain the President would relent and give
us a hearing. Look, for mercy's sake"
he continued, lat that noble white head
and totterinG figure, with the hands
tightly clasped nervously before him.
That old man is a father: his only son, a
lad of nineteen. is to be shot this after
noon at 6 o'clock unless the President in
terferes. Stanton has approved the SEN
tence: Lincoln has declined to interfere,
he will not see me. and unless we can
get the ear of the President the boy will
be shot and this old man and his wife
will be maniacs.'
The father of the boy at this moment
came forward, venerable gentleman
with long white hair falling upon his
shoulders. His face was one of the sad
dest sights | ever saw. The grief and
anxiety so plainly written upon it show
ed the torture he was suffering. We
Sn all l. H., ~,
told him we would beg the President to
see him, and bid him hope for the best.
Mr.. Lincoln was in the gayest of humors,
something specially funny having taken
place in an interview just closed with
large commute from Baltimore, and he
reclted the whole matter in the merricst
laughter. For an hour Mr.. Lincoln gave
himself up to relaxation and rest, telling
the usher to bring him no cards till he
rang his bell.
| At the end of this time, John G. Nico-
| lay, then private secretary, now marshal
of the Supreme Court, came quietly into
the room. leaned over the President s
chair and whispered some words of pri-
waite conversation in his ear. In an in
slant the President ceased speaking his
face became calm and solemn in compo-
sure, and he appeared to reflect gravely
for moment before replying. Quietly
looking back over his chair lie said slowly
and distinctly: Tell Mr.. - will not
see him. cannot Don't ask me again.
Tell him have read the papers in the
case, all of them fully. word for word.
The boy deserted three times. the last
time when on guard at Washington, and
he cannot be pardoned. will not inter-
fere. He must be shot" Mr.. Nicolay
at once left the room, and Mr.. Lincoln
again renewed the conversation at the
point where he had broken off. He made
no allusion to the interruption. and evil
IDENTIFY did not wish either of us to speak
of the subject in any manner. 1t was
plain that his mind was made up and his
decision irrevocable.