“The great thing about Grant,” said he, “I take it, is his perfect coolness and persistency of purpose. I judge he is not easily excited,—which is a great element in an officer,—and he has the grit of a bull-dog! Once let him get his ‘teeth’ in, and nothing can shake him off.”
One of the latest of Mr. Lincoln’s stories was told to a party of gentlemen, who, amid the tumbling ruins of the ‘Confederacy,’ anxiously asked “what he would do with ‘Jeff. Davis’?”
“There was a boy in Springfield,” rejoined Mr. Lincoln, “who saved up his money and bought a ‘coon,’ which, after the novelty wore off, became a great nuisance. He was one day leading him through the streets, and had his hands full to keep clear of the little vixen, who had torn his clothes half off of him. At length he sat down on the curb-stone, completely fagged out. A man passing was stopped by the lad’s disconsolate appearance, and asked the matter. ‘Oh,’ was the reply, ‘this coon is such a trouble to me!’ ‘Why don’t you get rid of him, then?’ said the gentleman. ‘Hush!’ said the boy; ‘don’t you see he is gnawing his rope off? I am going to let him do it, and then I will go home and tell the folks that he got away from me?’”
LXIX.
The last story told by Mr. Lincoln was drawn out by a circumstance which occurred just before the interview with Messrs. Colfax and Ashmun, on the evening of his assassination.
Marshal Lamon of Washington had called upon him with an application for the pardon of a soldier. After a brief hearing the President took the application, and when about to write his name upon the back of it, he looked up and said: “Lamon, have you ever heard how the Patagonians eat oysters? They open them and throw the shells out of the window until the pile gets higher than the house, and then they move;” adding: “I feel to-day like commencing a new pile of pardons, and I may as well begin it just here.”
At the subsequent interview with Messrs. Colfax and Ashmun, Mr. Lincoln was in high spirits. The uneasiness felt by his friends during his visit to Richmond was dwelt upon, when he sportively replied that he “supposed he should have been uneasy also, had any other man been President and gone there; but as it was, he felt no apprehension of danger whatever.” Turning to Speaker Colfax, he said: “Sumner has the ‘gavel’ of the Confederate Congress, which he got at Richmond, and intended to give to the Secretary of War, but I insisted he must give it to you, and you tell him from me to hand it over.”
Mr. Ashmun, who was the presiding officer of the Chicago Convention in 1860, alluded to the “gavel” used on that occasion, saying he had preserved it as a valuable memento.
Mr. Ashmun then referred to a matter of business connected with a cotton claim, preferred by a client of his, and said that he desired to have a “commission” appointed to examine and decide upon the merits of the case. Mr. Lincoln replied, with considerable warmth of manner, “I have done with ‘commissions.’ I believe they are contrivances to cheat the Government out of every pound of cotton they can lay their hands on.” Mr. Ashmun’s face flushed, and he replied that he hoped the President meant no personal imputation.
Mr. Lincoln saw that he had wounded his friend, and he instantly replied: “You did not understand me, Ashmun. I did not mean what you inferred. I take it all back.” Subsequently he said: “I apologize to you, Ashmun.”