Republic was thus at issue, when the control of an empire was to be determined by a few figures brought in by the telegraph, the leader, the man most deeply concerned, not merely for himself but for his country, could turn aside to read such balderdash and to laugh at such frivolous jests, was to his mind something most repugnant and damnable. He could not understand, apparently, that it was by the relief which these jests afforded to the strain of mind under which Lincoln had so long been living and to the natural gloom of a melancholy and desponding temperament—this was Mr. Lincoln's prevailing characteristic that the safety and sanity of his intelligence was maintained and preserved.

A spy

Another interesting incident occurs to me. whom we employed to report to us the proceedings of the Confederate Government and its agents, and who passed continually between Richmond and St. Catherines, reporting at the War Department upon the way, had come in from Canada and had put into my hands an important dispatch from Mr. Clement C. Clay, Jr., addressed to Mr. Benjamin. Of course the seal was broken and the paper read immediately. It showed unequivocally that the Confederate agents in Canada were making use of that country as a starting point for warlike raids which were to be directed against frontier towns like St. Albans in Vermont. Mr. Stanton thought it important that

this dispatch should be retained as a ground of reclamation to be addressed to the British Government. It was on a Sunday that it arrived, and he was confined to his house by a cold. At his directions I went over to the President and made an appointment with him to be at the Secretary's office after church. At the appointed time he was there, and I read the dispatch to them. Mr. Stanton stated the reasons why it should be retained, and before deciding the question Mr. Lincoln turned to me, saying:

"Well, Dana?"

I observed to them that this was a very important channel of communication, and that if we stopped such a dispatch as this it was at the risk of never obtaining any more information through that means.

"Oh," said the President, "I think you can manage that. Capture the messenger, take the dispatch from him by force, put him in prison, and then let him escape. If he has made Benjamin and Clay believe his lies so far, he won't have any difficulty in telling them new ones that will answer for this case."

This direction was obeyed. The paper was sealed up again and was delivered to its bearer. General Augur, who commanded the District, was directed to look for a Confederate messenger at such a place on the road south that evening. The man was arrested, brought to the War Department, searched, the paper

found upon him and identified, and he was committed to the Old Capitol Prison. He made his escape about a week later, being fired upon by the guard. A large reward for his capture was advertised in various papers East and West, and when he reached St. Catherines with his arm in a sling, wounded by a bullet which had passed through it, his story was believed by Messrs. Clay and Jacob Thompson, or, at any rate, if they had any doubts upon the subject, they were not strong enough to prevent his carrying their messages afterward.

The last time I saw Mr. Lincoln to speak with him. was in the afternoon of the day of his murder. The same Jacob Thompson was the subject of our conversation. I had received a report from the Provost Marshal of Portland, Maine, saying that Mr. Thompson was to be in that town that night for the purpose of taking the steamer for Liverpool; and what orders had the Department to give? I carried the telegram to Mr. Stanton. He said promptly, "Arrest him;" but as I was leaving his room, he called me back, adding, "You had better take it over to the President." It was now between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, and business at the White House was completed for the day. I found Mr. Lincoln with his coat off in a closet attached to his office washing his hands. "Halloo, Dana," said he, as I opened the door, "what is it now?" "Well, sir," I said,

"here is the Provost Marshal of Portland, who reports that Jacob Thompson is to be in that town tonight, and inquires what orders we have to give." "What does Stanton say?" he asked. "Arrest him," I replied. "Well," he continued, drawling his words, "I rather guess not. When you have an elephant on hand, and he wants to run away, better let him. run."

This answer I carried back to the War Department, and, accordingly, no reply was sent to the Provost Marshal. That night Mr. Lincoln was shot, and in the room adjoining the small chamber in which he lay unconscious and breathing heavily, Mr. Stanton, the only member of the Administration who seemed to retain his self-possession and undiminished energy, gave all the orders for hours that seemed necessary to carry on the government. I left him at about two o'clock in the morning and went home to sleep. But at five o'clock Colonel Pelouse knocked at my front door. Opening the window, I asked, "What is it?" "Mr. Dana," said he, "Mr. Lincoln is dead, and Mr. Stanton directs you to arrest Jacob Thompson."

The order was sent to Portland, but Thompson did not come there. Some years afterward he told me that he had thought it safer to go to England by way of Halifax.

CHARLES A. DANA.

XXI.

JOHN A. KASSON.

RIOR to Lincoln's election as President I never

PRIO

met him-not, indeed, until after he sent my name to the Senate for the post of First AssistantPostmaster-General. I think this was the second nomination he sent to that body. Afterward I had frequent occasion to see him, both during the period of that service and during my subsequent congressional service, but almost wholly on official busi

ness.

From the President's room in the White House you can see prominent objects in Alexandria, six miles down the Potomac. The one prominent object which then for days attracted and offended the patriot's eye from those windows, was the rebel flag floating from the staff on the roof of the hotel in that city, as if in defiance of the national Capitol, a few miles away. President Lincoln's young neighbor of Springfield, Ill., Ellsworth, mounted alone to the roof, cut it down, and was himself killed by the rebel owner as he descended the staircase. I called on the President just after that occurrence, and con