File:Abraham Lincoln (1897) (14777888415).jpg

Identifier: abrahamlincol1479coff (find matches)
Title: Abraham Lincoln
Year: 1897 (1890s)
Authors: Coffin, Charles Carleton, 1823-1896 Independent Order of Odd Fellows. Sovereign Grand Lodge
Subjects: Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865 Presidents
Publisher: New York : Harper & Brothers
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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Text Appearing Before Image:
But do me a favor. Retain your opinions, if you must, but say
nothing about them at present until we are forced to make the charge
—until there is no alternative, and the world is forced to think as we do."
" I will do as you request, Mr. President."
" Let us hope," he replied, for the best. We shall have enough to
answer for if we survive this war. Let us hope at least that the crime
of murdering prisoners by exposure and starvation may not be fastened
on any of our people."
With fifteen days rations for the army, General Grant cut loose
from all communication with Washington, crossed the Rapidan, and
went on to the Wilderness, (See " Redeeming the Republic," chap, iv.)
A courier arrived at the White House with an account of the two
day's struggle — an undecided battle, in which 20,000 men had
Mav 8.
been killed or wounded. The President paced his chamber, and
gave way to uncontrollable emotion, exclaiming:
" My God! my God! twenty thousand! I cannot bear it! I can-
not bear it! Why do we suffer so ? Could we not have avoided the
terrible, bloody war ? Was it not forced upon us ? Will it ever end ?"
Text Appearing After Image:

SUNDAY AFTERNOON.

SPRING OF 1864. 409

In the evening John W. Forney, editor of the Philadelphia "Press",
called at the White House. He found Mr. Lincoln suffering great de-
pression of spirits. He was ghastly pale. There were dark rings
around his deep-set eyes. He was reading Shakespeare.
" Let me read you this from Shakespeare," he said. "I cannot read
it like Forest, who is acting at the theatre, but it comes to me to-night
like a consolation :

" To morrow, and to-morrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Lifes but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.(¹⁰)

A few days later the wounded began to arrive from the Wilderness
and Spottsylvania. Washington became a vast hospital. The Presi-
dent visited the disabled soldiers speaking kind words and doing what
he could for them. Day by day his own countenance was changing,
the sadness becoming habitual.

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