Part 24

“WHAT’S-HIS-NAME” GOT THERE.

General James B. Fry told a good one on Secretary of War Stanton, who was worsted in a contention with the President. Several brigadier-generals were to be selected, and Lincoln maintained that “something must be done in the interest of the Dutch.” Many complaints had come from prominent men, born in the Fatherland, but who were fighting for the Union.

“Now, I want Schimmelpfennig given one of those brigadierships.”

Stanton was stubborn and headstrong, as usual, but his manner and tone indicated that the President would have his own way in the end. However, he was not to be beaten without having made a fight.

“But, Mr. President,” insisted the Iron War Secretary, “it may be that this Mr. Schim--what’s-his-name--has no recommendations showing his fitness. Perhaps he can’t speak English.”

“That doesn’t matter a bit, Stanton,” retorted Lincoln, “he may be deaf and dumb for all I know, but whatever language he speaks, if any, we can furnish troops who will understand what he says. That name of his will make up for any differences in religion, politics or understanding, and I’ll take the risk of his coming out all right.”

Then, slamming his great hand upon the Secretary’s desk, he said, “Schim-mel-fen-nig must be appointed.”

And he was, there and then.

A REALLY GREAT GENERAL.

“Do you know General A--?” queried the President one day to a friend who had “dropped in” at the White House.

“Certainly; but you are not wasting any time thinking about him, are you?” was the rejoinder.

“You wrong him,” responded the President, “he is a really great man, a philosopher.”

“How do you make that out? He isn’t worth the powder and ball necessary to kill him so I have heard military men say,” the friend remarked.

“He is a mighty thinker,” the President returned, “because he has mastered that ancient and wise admonition, ‘Know thyself;’ he has formed an intimate acquaintance with himself, knows as well for what he is fitted and unfitted as any man living. Without doubt he is a remarkable man. This War has not produced another like him.”

“How is it you are so highly pleased with General A---- all at once?”

“For the reason,” replied Mr. Lincoln, with a merry twinkle of the eye, “greatly to my relief, and to the interests of the country, he has resigned. The country should express its gratitude in some substantial way.”

“SHRUNK UP NORTH.”

There was no member of the Cabinet from the South when Attorney-General Bates handed in his resignation, and President Lincoln had a great deal of trouble in making a selection. Finally Titian F. Coffey consented to fill the vacant place for a time, and did so until the appointment of Mr. Speed.

In conversation with Mr. Coffey the President quaintly remarked:

“My Cabinet has shrunk up North, and I must find a Southern man. I suppose if the twelve Apostles were to be chosen nowadays, the shrieks of locality would have to be heeded.”

LINCOLN ADOPTED THE SUGGESTION.

It is not generally known that President Lincoln adopted a suggestion made by Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase in regard to the Emancipation Proclamation, and incorporated it in that famous document.

After the President had read it to the members of the Cabinet he asked if he had omitted anything which should be added or inserted to strengthen it. It will be remembered that the closing paragraph of the Proclamation reads in this way:

“And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice warranted by the Constitution, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God!” President Lincoln’s draft of the paper ended with the word “mankind,” and the words, “and the gracious favor of Almighty God,” were those suggested by Secretary Chase.

SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE.

It was the President’s overweening desire to accommodate all persons who came to him soliciting favors, but the opportunity was never offered until an untimely and unthinking disease, which possessed many of the characteristics of one of the most dreaded maladies, confined him to his bed at the White House.

The rumor spread that the President was afflicted with this disease, while the truth was that it was merely a very mild attack of varioloid. The office-seekers didn’t know the facts, and for once the Executive Mansion was clear of them.

One day, a man from the West, who didn’t read the papers, but wanted the postoffice in his town, called at the White House. The President, being then practically a well man, saw him. The caller was engaged in a voluble endeavor to put his capabilities in the most favorable light, when the President interrupted him with the remark that he would be compelled to make the interview short, as his doctor was due.