Lincoln's Yarns and Stories Part 32

"I went to Washington and had an interview. I said:

"'Mr. President, unless these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many.'

"He replied: 'Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the United States. For G.o.d's sake, don't ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it.'"

G.o.d NEEDED THAT CHURCH.

In the early stages of the war, after several battles had been fought, Union troops seized a church in Alexandria, Va., and used it as a hospital.

A prominent lady of the congregation went to Washington to see Mr.

Lincoln and try to get an order for its release.

"Have you applied to the surgeon in charge at Alexandria?" inquired Mr.

Lincoln.

"Yes, sir, but I can do nothing with him," was the reply.

"Well, madam," said Mr. Lincoln, "that is an end of it, then. We put him there to attend to just such business, and it is reasonable to suppose that he knows better what should be done under the circ.u.mstances than I do."

The lady's face showed her keen disappointment. In order to learn her sentiment, Mr. Lincoln asked:

"How much would you be willing to subscribe toward building a hospital there?"

She said that the war had depreciated Southern property so much that she could afford to give but little.

"This war is not over yet," said Mr. Lincoln, "and there will likely be another fight very soon. That church may be very useful in which to house our wounded soldiers. It is my candid opinion that G.o.d needs that church for our wounded fellows; so, madam, I can do nothing for you."

THE MAN DOWN SOUTH.

An amusing instance of the President's preoccupation of mind occurred at one of his levees, when he was shaking hands with a host of visitors pa.s.sing him in a continuous stream.

An intimate acquaintance received the usual conventional hand-shake and salutation, but perceiving that he was not recognized, kept his ground instead of moving on, and spoke again, when the President, roused to a dim consciousness that something unusual had happened, perceived who stood before him, and, seizing his friend's hand, shook it again heartily, saying:

"How do you do? How do you do? Excuse me for not noticing you. I was thinking of a man down South."

"The man down South" was General W. T. Sherman, then on his march to the sea.

COULDN'T LET GO THE HOG.

When Governor Curtin of Pennsylvania described the terrible butchery at the battle of Fredericksburg, Mr. Lincoln was almost broken-hearted.

The Governor regretted that his description had so sadly affected the President. He remarked: "I would give all I possess to know how to rescue you from this terrible war." Then Mr. Lincoln's wonderful recuperative powers a.s.serted themselves and this marvelous man was himself.

Lincoln's whole aspect suddenly changed, and he relieved his mind by telling a story.

"This reminds me, Governor," he said, "of an old farmer out in Illinois that I used to know.

"He took it into his head to go into hog-raising. He sent out to Europe and imported the finest breed of hogs he could buy.

"The prize hog was put in a pen, and the farmer's two mischievous boys, James and John, were told to be sure not to let it out. But James, the worst of the two, let the brute out the next day. The hog went straight for the boys, and drove John up a tree, then the hog went for the seat of James' trousers, and the only way the boy could save himself was by holding on to the hog's tail.

"The hog would not give up his hunt, nor the boy his hold! After they had made a good many circles around the tree, the boy's courage began to give out, and he shouted to his brother, 'I say, John, come down, quick, and help me let go this hog!'

"Now, Governor, that is exactly my case. I wish some one would come and help me to let the hog go."

THE CABINET LINCOLN WANTED.

Judge Joseph Gillespie, of Chicago, was a firm friend of Mr. Lincoln, and went to Springfield to see him shortly before his departure for the inauguration.

"It was," said judge Gillespie, "Lincoln's Gethsemane. He feared he was not the man for the great position and the great events which confronted him. Untried in national affairs, unversed in international diplomacy, unacquainted with the men who were foremost in the politics of the nation, he groaned when he saw the inevitable War of the Rebellion coming on. It was in humility of spirit that he told me he believed that the American people had made a mistake in selecting him.

"In the course of our conversation he told me if he could select his cabinet from the old bar that had traveled the circuit with him in the early days, he believed he could avoid war or settle it without a battle, even after the fact of secession.

"'But, Mr. Lincoln,' said I, 'those old lawyers are all Democrats.'

"'I know it,' was his reply. 'But I would rather have Democrats whom I know than Republicans I don't know.'"

READY FOR "BUTCHER-DAY."

Leonard Swett told this eminently characteristic story:

"I remember one day being in his room when Lincoln was sitting at his table with a large pile of papers before him, and after a pleasant talk he turned quite abruptly and said: 'Get out of the way, Swett; to-morrow is butcher-day, and I must go through these papers and see if I cannot find some excuse to let these poor fellows off.'

"The pile of papers he had were the records of courts-martial of men who on the following day were to be shot."

"THE BAD BIRD AND THE MUDSILL."

It took quite a long time, as well as the lives of thousands of men, to say nothing of the cost in money, to take Richmond, the Capital City of the Confederacy. In this cartoon, taken from "Frank Leslie's Ill.u.s.trated Newspaper," of February 21, 1863, Jeff Davis is sitting upon the Secession eggs in the "Richmond" nest, smiling down upon President Lincoln, who is up to his waist in the Mud of Difficulties.

The President finally waded through the mora.s.s, in which he had become immersed, got to the tree, climbed its trunk, reached the limb, upon which the "bad bird" had built its nest, threw the mother out, destroyed the eggs of Secession and then took the nest away with him, leaving the "bad bird" without any home at all.