Connecticut western news., 1889-11-13
A GENERALS BRIDE.
THE WAR RECORD OF A CHARM
 ING PHILADELPHIA WOMAN.
Glimpses of Father Abraham, Who Was
 Fighting a Battle Day.

This thin volume with crimson satiny cover-sA Woman's War Rec ord," by Mrs. General Charles H. T. Collis New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons)-is one of the most delightful booklets of the year. Mrs. Collis, so we'll known to Philadelphia society, writes readily in frank and fluent way that is charming. She tells us how she came to espouse the Northern cause, by following the example of many other Southrons-'sI had gone with my state,' mine being the state of matrimony." After her marriage she followed her husband to the camp at Frederick, where the Winter was passed in round of social enjoy ment. It is best, perhaps, to permit Mrs. Collis to tell in sundry extracts her own story:
 very often went to Washington while the Army of the Potomac was lying along the Rappahannock River, and my husband would manage to run up for few hours to see me. On one of these visits was presented to Pres ident Lincoln, and had private audi ence.
 MT. Lincoln wore dress suit, re- member, his swallow-tailed coat being terrible misfit, and it puzzled me very much to tell whether his shirt col lar was made to stand up or turn down-It was doing little of both. He was entirely at his ease and inn pressed me as being pleased with the diversion which my visit gave him. He referred in mplimentary terms to my husbands services, and to the re- quests of his superior officers for his promotion to brigadier general, adding, in quaint and earnest way, "but he is too young." I replied promptly, 'sHe is not too young to be killed in the service and make me widow" "Well," said he, with the bonhomie of courier, "you would have no trouble in finding promotion then," which, for Mir. Lincoln, was, Ipresume, quite f1irtatious remark. Perhaps he thought that, under the circumstances I might agree with Madame de Sevigne, who said (with great provo cation, it is true): "Would to God we were born widows"
 While we were thus chatting pleas antly, the door-keeper handed him a card with a woman's name upon it, and whispered a few words to the President as he was putting on his eyeglasses. MT. Lincoln uttered a low and agonizing sigh-perhaps l should call it groan-and then, turn ing to me, in tone of voice full of sadness, as a moment before it had been full of mirth, said: s'This poor woman's son is to be shot tomorrow. :" I confess I was so overpowered by his distress that had hardly the strength to speak, but, by way of comfort, I ventured the opinion that I pre- stunned such things were inevitable in the time of war. "Yes," said he, slowly and pensively, as he threw his head far back and pressed his brow with his hand, "that's SO; but there's so many on lem, so many on 'em." Of course this brought our interview to a close, and I gave way to the broken-hearted mother, who, I am sure, left that great presence as full of hope as did of love and reverence for this remarkable man.
 Mrs. Collis joined the army on New Years Day, 1864, at Brandy Station. I They had jolly times then, she says "Of course, received great deal of attention. 1 expected it, and I was not disappointed, and I confess that during those exhilarating hours don't believe thought ever entered my mind that many of these splendid fellows were dancing their last waltz, and l am very sure such gloomy forebodings never entered theirs; no, it was
 "A very merry, dancing, drinking,
 Laughing, quaffing and minimizing time' Indeed, it was s'unthinking." Well do I remember expressing my sym- pathy to very distinguished cavalry general for the loss of his only son to which the gallant sabreur responded "Yes, madame, very sad! very sad Inc was the last of his race! Do you waltz?" and away he went to the ex. hilarating music of dashing galop leaving all melancholy far behind him
 Returning one evening just at dusk from one of our long horseback rides Mir. Collis and myself were very hun gry, and life among soldiers having made me somewhat indifferent to con ventionalities, I threw a dozen o1 James River oysters on the embers o1 my wood fire and threw myself on tho floor; got Aunt Miranda to furnish LII with butter, pepper and salt; rolled up the sleeves of my riding habit, an6 was in the act of devouring, while my husband in similar pose, was in tn, act of opening the succulent bivalve when heard knock at the door, ant in response to my "come in," who