“On the Monday before the assassination,[19] when the President was
on his return from Richmond, he stopped at City Point. Calling upon
the head surgeon at that place, Mr. Lincoln told him that he wished to
visit all the hospitals under his charge, and shake hands with every
soldier. The surgeon asked if he knew what he was undertaking, there
being five or six thousand soldiers at that place, and it would be
quite a tax upon his strength to visit all the wards and shake hands
with every soldier. Mr. Lincoln answered with a smile, he ‘guessed he
was equal to the task; at any rate he would try, and go as far as he
could; he should never, probably, see the boys again, and he wanted
them to know that he appreciated what they had done for their country.’
“Finding it useless to try to dissuade him, the surgeon began his
rounds with the President, who walked from bed to bed, extending his
hand to all, saying a few words of sympathy to some, making kind
inquiries of others, and welcomed by all with the heartiest cordiality.
“As they passed along, they came to a ward in which lay a Rebel who
had been wounded and was a prisoner. As the tall figure of the kindly
visitor appeared in sight he was recognized by the Rebel soldier,
who, raising himself on his elbow in bed, watched Mr. Lincoln as he
approached, and extending his hand exclaimed, while tears ran down
his cheeks: ‘Mr. Lincoln, I have long wanted to see you, to ask your
forgiveness for ever raising my hand against the old flag.’ Mr. Lincoln
was moved to tears. He heartily shook the hand of the repentant Rebel,
and assured him of his good-will, and with a few words of kind advice
passed on.
“After some hours the tour of the various hospitals was made, and Mr.
Lincoln returned with the surgeon to his office. They had scarcely
entered, however, when a messenger came saying that one ward had been
omitted, and ‘the boys’ wanted to see the President. The surgeon, who
was thoroughly tired, and knew Mr. Lincoln must be, tried to dissuade
him from going; but the good man said he must go back; he would not
knowingly omit one, ‘the boys’ would be so disappointed. So he went
with the messenger, accompanied by the surgeon, and shook hands with
the gratified soldiers, and then returned again 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.
Mr. 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 same axe
in that position for a moment. Returning to the office, he took a glass
of lemonade, for he would take no stronger beverage; and while he was
within, the chips he had chopped were gathered up and safely cared for
by a hospital steward, because they were ‘the chips that Father Abraham
chopped.’ In a few hours more the beloved President was at home in
Washington; in a few days more he had passed away and a bereaved nation
was in mourning.”