however, when a messenger came saying that one ward had been overlooked, and “the boys” wanted to see the President.  The surgeon, who was thoroughly tired, and knew Lincoln must be, tried to dissuade him from going; but the good man said he must go back; “the boys” would be so disappointed.  So he went with the messenger, accompanied by the surgeon, shook hands with the gratified soldiers, and then returned to the office.  The surgeon expressed the fear that the President’s arm would be lamed with so much hand-shaking, saying that it certainly must ache.  Lincoln smiled, and saying something about his “strong muscles,” stepped out at the open door, took up a very large heavy axe which lay there by a log of wood, and chopped vigorously for a few moments, sending the chips flying in all directions; and then, pausing, he extended his right arm to its full length, holding the axe out horizontally, without its even quivering as he held it.  Strong men who looked on—­men accustomed to manual labor—­could not hold the axe in that position for a moment.

In summer Lincoln’s favorite home was at “The Soldiers’ Rest,” a place a few miles out of Washington, on the Maryland side, where old and disabled soldiers of the regular army found a refuge.  It was a lovely spot, situated on a beautifully wooded hill, reached by a winding road, shaded by thick-set branches.  On his way there he often passed long lines of ambulances, laden with the suffering victims of a recent battle.  A friend who met him on such an occasion, says:  “When I met the President, his attitude and expression spoke the deepest sadness.  He paused, and, pointing his hand-towards the wounded men, he said:  ’Look yonder at those poor fellows.  I cannot bear it!  This suffering, this loss of life, is dreadful!’ Recalling a letter he had written years before to a suffering friend whose grief he had sought to console, I reminded him of the incident, and asked him:  ’Do you remember writing to your sorrowing friend these words:  “And this too shall pass away.  Never fear.  Victory will come."’ ‘Yes,’ replied he, ’victory will come, but it comes slowly.’”

CHAPTER XX

Lincoln and McClellan—­The Peninsular Campaign of 1862—­Impatience with McClellan’s Delay—­Lincoln Defends McClellan from Unjust Criticism—­Some Harrowing Experiences—­McClellan Recalled from the Peninsula—­His Troops Given to General Pope—­Pope’s Defeat at Manassas—­A Critical Situation—­McClellan again in Command—­Lincoln Takes the Responsibility—­McClellan’s Account of his Reinstatement—­The Battle of Antietam—­The President Vindicated—­Again Dissatisfied with McClellan—­Visits the Army in the Field—­The President in the Saddle—­Correspondence between Lincoln and McClellan—­McClellan’s Final Removal—­Lincoln’s Summing-up of McClellan—­McClellan’s “Body-guard.”