“I cannot, Mr. President.”
He threw himself around in the chair, one leg over the arm, and again spoke slowly: “This war might have been finished at that time if every man had been in his place that was able to be there, but they were scattered hither and thither over the North, some on furloughs, and in one way or another, gone; so that out of 170,000 men which the government was paying at that time, only 83,000 could be got for action. The consequences, you know, proved nearly disastrous.”
“It was very sad but the delinquents were certainly not in northern hospitals, neither were they deserters therefrom, for there are none. This is, therefore, no argument against them.”
“Well, well, Mrs. Harvey, you go and see the Secretary of War and talk with him and hear what he has to say.” This he said thoughtfully, and took up the letter I had given him, and after writing something on the back of it gave it to me.
“May I return to you, Mr. Lincoln?” I asked.
“Certainly,” he replied, and his voice was gentler than it had been before.
I left him for the war department. I found written on the back of the letter these words, “Admit Mrs. Harvey at once; listen to what she says; she is a lady of intelligence
and talks sense. A. Lincoln.” Not, of course, displeased with the introduction, I went on my way to Mr. Stanton, our secretary of war, about whose severity I had heard so much that I must confess I dreaded the interview; but I was kindly received, listened to respectfully, and answered politely. And let me say here, as a passing tribute to this great and good man, that I never knew a clearer brain, a truer heart, a nobler spirit than Edwin M. Stanton. I have watched him by the hour, listening to and deciding questions of minor moment as well as those of greater importance—those upon which the fate of the nation depended, and yet he never wavered. Quick to see the right, he never hesitated to act. His foresight and his strength seemed at times more than human. His place as a statesman will not be filled in this century.
But to return to my interview with him. After understanding the object for which I came, he told me he had sent the Surgeon-General to New Orleans with directions to come up the river and examine all hospitals. In short, I understood he had started on a tour of inspection, which meant nothing at all so far as the suffering was concerned. I told Mr. Stanton, “Our western hospitals have never received any benefit from these inspections, and we have very little confidence that any good would result from them. Any person with discernment, with a medium allowance of common sense and humanity, who is loyal, and has been through our southern river hospitals, knows and feels the necessity for what I ask, and yet you say you have never received a report to this effect. The truth is, the medical authorities know the heads of departments do not wish hospitals established so far away from army lines, and report accordingly. I wish this could be overruled; can nothing be done?”
“Nothing, until the Surgeon-General returns,” Mr. Stanton replied.