Recollections of Abraham Lincoln, 1847-1865

by Ward Hill Lamon

At one time when very lively scenes were being enacted in West Virginia, a Union general allowed himself and his command to be drawn into a dangerous position, from which it was feared he would be unable to extricate himself without the loss of his whole command. In speaking of this fiasco, Mr. Lincoln said: "General —— reminds me of a man out West who was engaged in what they call heading a barrel. He worked diligently for a time driving down the hoops; but when the job seemed completed, the head would fall in, and he would have to do the work all over again. Suddenly, after a deal of annoyance, a bright idea struck him. He put his boy, a chunk of a lad, into the barrel to hold up the head while he pounded down the hoops. This worked like a charm. The job was completed before he once thought about how he was to get the little fellow out again. Now," said Mr. Lincoln, "that is a fair sample of the way some people do business. They can succeed better in getting themselves and others corked up than in getting uncorked."

During the year 1861 it was difficult to preserve peace and good order in the city of Washington. Riots and disturbances were occurring daily, and some of them were of a serious and sometimes dangerous nature. The authorities were in constant apprehension, owing to the disloyal sentiment prevailing, that a riot might occur of such magnitude as to endanger the safety of the capital; and this necessitated the utmost vigilance on their part to preserve order.

On one occasion, when the fears of the loyal element of the city were excited to fever-heat, a free fight near the old National Theatre occurred about eleven o'clock one night. An officer in passing the place observed what was going on; and seeing the great number of persons engaged, he felt it to be his duty to command the peace. The imperative tone of his voice stopped the fighting for a moment; but the leader, a great bully, roughly pushed back the officer, and told him to go away, or he would whip him. The officer again advanced and said, "I arrest you," attempting to place his hand on the man's shoulder, when the bully struck a fearful blow at the officer's face. This was parried, and instantly followed by a blow from the fist of the officer, striking the fellow under the chin and knocking him senseless. Blood issued from his mouth, nose, and ears. It was believed that the man's neck was broken. A surgeon was called, who pronounced the case a critical one, and the wounded man was hurried away on a litter to the hospital. There the physicians said there was concussion of the brain, and that the man would die. All medical skill that the officer could procure was employed in the hope of saving the life of the man. His conscience smote him for having, as he believed, taken the life of a fellow-creature, and he was inconsolable.

Being on terms of intimacy with the President, about two o'clock that night the officer went to the White House, woke up Mr. Lincoln, and requested him to come into his office, where he told him his story. Mr. Lincoln listened with great interest until the narrative was completed, and then asked a few questions; after which he remarked: "I am sorry you had to kill the man; but these are times of war, and a great many men deserve killing. This one, according to your story, is one of them; so give yourself no uneasiness about the matter. I will stand by you."

"That is not why I came to you. I knew I did my duty, and had no fears of your disapproval of what I did," replied the officer; and then he added: "Why I came to you was, I felt great grief over the unfortunate affair, and I wanted to talk to you about it."

Mr. Lincoln then said, with a smile, placing his hand on the officer's shoulder: "You go home now and get some sleep; but let me give you this piece of advice,—hereafter, when you have occasion to strike a man, don't hit him with your fist; strike him with a club, a crowbar, or with something that won't kill him."

The officer then went home, but not to sleep. The occurrence had a great effect upon him, and was a real source of discomfort to his mind during the fourteen months the unfortunate invalid lived, and it left a sincere regret impressed upon him ever after; but the conciliatory and kindly view prompted by Mr. Lincoln's tender heart, and his fidelity to friendship on that occasion, is to this day cherished in the officer's memory with a feeling of consecration.

About the first time Mr. Lincoln contemplated leaving Washington, he was to attend some gathering of the people in Baltimore, Philadelphia, or New York. A committee waited upon him and urged his attendance on the occasion, saying that they were sure Mr. Garrett, the president of the only road then going east out of Washington, would take great pleasure in furnishing a special train of cars for him. "Well," said the President, "I have no doubt of that. I know Mr. Garrett well, and like him very much; but if I were to believe (which I don't) everything some people say of him about his 'secesh' principles, he might say to you as was said by the superintendent of a railroad to a son of one of my predecessors in office. Some two years after the death of President Harrison, the son of the incumbent of this office, contemplating an excursion for his father somewhere or other, went to order a special train of cars. At that time politics were very bitter between the Whigs and the Democrats, and the railroad superintendent happened to be an uncompromising Whig. The son made known his demand, which was bluntly refused by the railroad official, saying that his road was not running special trains for the accommodation of Presidents just then. 'What!' said the young man, 'did you not furnish a special train for the funeral of General Harrison?' 'Yes,' said the superintendent, very calmly; 'and if you will only bring your father here in that shape you shall have the best train on the road.' But, gentlemen," continued Mr. Lincoln, "I have no doubts of Mr. Garrett's loyalty for the government or his respect for me personally, and I will take pleasure in going."

General James B. Fry, the Provost-Marshal General during Mr. Lincoln's Administration, was designated by the Secretary of War as a special escort to accompany Mr. Lincoln to the field of Gettysburg upon the occasion of the anniversary of that battle. The general, on arriving at the White House and finding the President late in his preparations for the trip, remarked to him that it was late, and there was little time to lose in getting to the train. "Well," said Mr. Lincoln, "I feel about that as the convict did in Illinois, when he was going to the gallows. Passing along the road in custody of the sheriff, and seeing the people who were eager for the execution crowding and jostling one another past him, he at last called out, 'Boys! you needn't be in such a hurry to get ahead, for there won't be any fun till I get there.'"

General Fry also tells of a conversation between Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Stanton, in relation to the selection of brigadier-generals. Mr. Lincoln was heard to say: "Well, Mr. Secretary, I concur in pretty much all you say. The only point I make is, that there has got to be something done which will be unquestionably in the interest of the Dutch; and to that end I want Schimmelpfennig appointed." The secretary replied: "Mr. President, perhaps this Schimmel—what's-his-name—is not as highly recommended as some other German officer." "No matter about that," said Mr. Lincoln; "his name will make up for any difference there may be, and I'll take the risk of his coming out all right." Then, with a laugh, he repeated, dwelling upon each syllable of the name and accenting the last one, "Schim-mel-pfen-nig must be appointed."