and wives anywhere think that as he sees the long blue regiments of brave ones marching away, stepping to the drum-beat, he does not contemplate them and feel his responsibility as he thinks how many of them shall go to nameless graves, unmarked save by the down-looking eyes of God’s pitying angels.”  The feeling of the soldiers toward Lincoln was one of filial respect and love.  He was not only the President, the commander-in-chief of all the armies and navies of the United States, but their good “Father Abraham,” who loved every man, even the humblest, that wore the Union blue.

Of Lincoln’s personal relations with the soldiers, enough interesting anecdotes could be collected to fill a volume.  He saw much of them in Washington, as they marched through that city on their way to the front, or returned on furlough or discharge, or filled the overcrowded hospitals of the capital.  Often they called upon him, singly or with companions; and he always had for them a word, however brief, of sympathy and cheer.  He was always glad to see them at the White House.  They were the one class of visitors who seldom came to ask for favors, and never to pester him with advice.  It was a real treat for the harried President to escape from the politicians and have a quiet talk with a private soldier.  Among the innumerable petitioners for executive clemency or favor, none were so graciously received as those who appeared in behalf of soldiers.  It was half a victory to say that the person for whom the favor was desired was a member of the Union army.

As he wrote the pardon of a young soldier, sentenced to be shot for sleeping while on sentinel duty, the President remarked to a friend standing by:  “I could not think of going into eternity with the blood of that poor young man on my hands.  It is not to be wondered at that a boy raised on a farm, probably in the habit of going to bed at dark, should, when required to watch, fall asleep; and I cannot consent that he be shot for such an act.”  The youth thus reprieved was afterwards found among the slain on the field of Fredericksburg, with a photograph of Lincoln, on which he had written, “God bless President Lincoln,” worn next his heart.

Rev. Newman Hall, of London, has repeated in a sermon an anecdote told him by a Union general.  “The first week of my command,” said the officer, “there were twenty-four deserters sentenced by court martial to be shot, and the warrants for their execution were sent to the President to be signed.  He refused.  I went to Washington and had an interview.  I said:  ’Mr. President, unless these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger.  Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many.’  He replied:  ’Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the United States.  For God’s sake, don’t ask me to add to the number, for I won’t do it.’”

It came to the knowledge of Lincoln that a widow living in Boston—­a Mrs. Bixby—­had lost five sons in the service of their country.  Without delay he addressed to the bereaved mother the following touching note: