Tom Strong, Lincoln's Scout

White House-Bull Run-"Stonewall" Jackson-Geo. B. McClellan-Tom Strong, S

York, scholar, statesman, and gentleman, and a short, grizzled man, the worthy inheritor of a great tradition. He was Charles Francis Adams of Boston, son and grandson of two Presidents of the United States. He had been appointed Minister to England

d visitors, nodding casually to the two New Yorkers a

my appointment," said A

hed out his legs and arms, and sighed a deep sigh of relief. "By the way, Governor," he added, t

n purposes, was monopolizing the time and absorbing the mind of our greatest President. There is a story that one man who asked him to appoint him Minister to England, after taking an hour of his time, ended the interview by asking him for a

eward out of the little room. Then

eyes and below a square, bulging forehead, and with a mass of black hair. The face was dark and sallow. The firm lips rela

Tom Strong," he sa

his little hand into Lincoln's great paw, hardened and roughened by a

e against us. You must get Russia to hold them back. We'll have a regular Minister there, but I'm going

cert

you would. And ho

at quick. What

I suppose he had better keep

hile that irresistible smile again softened the firm outlines of his big man's mouth, "you see I've taken a sort

rted for St. Petersburg and Tom reported at the White House. He was welcomed by John Hay, a delightful

lay and me. I haven't an idea what you're to do and between you and me and the bedpost I don't

e household words. Half a dozen times he lunched with the President's family, a plain meal with plain folks. Even the dinners at the White House, except the state dinners, were frugal and plain. Lincoln drank little or no wine. He never used tobacco. This was something of a miracle in the case of a man from the West, for in those days, particularly in the unconventional West, practically every man both smoked and chewed tobacco. The filthy spittoon was everywhere con

l upon him. There was nothing unkind in the glance, but the boy felt it go straight through him. He wondered what it all m

ncoln went to see Gen. Winfield S. Scott, then commander-in-chief of our armies. The fat old general was taking his afternoon nap. Awakened with difficulty, he gurgled that everything would come out well. Then he fell asleep again. Before six o'clock it was known t

ng to hearten his men, called out to them: "Look! there's Jackson standing like a stone wall!" The men looked, rallied, and went on fighting. It may have been that one thing of Jackson's example that turned the tide at Bull Run, gave the battle to the South, and prolonged the war by at least two years. Stone

use, in the evening. They were told he was out, but would return soon, so they waited. McClellan did return and was told of his patient visitors. He walked by the open door of the room where they were seated and went upstairs. Half an hour later Lincoln se

ebuff. Something shou

ke patience, however,

, "at this time not to be making a poi

he pompous General. After that experience, he

ly luncheon, the President said

of relief and lounged into his chair. He bade Tom take a chair nearby. Then he loo

om. I think you'll do. Now I'll

e died q

ep still? Balaam's ass isn't the only ass that ever t

red, "was never to say anything to anybody

my boy. Pray God he does wha

ght that would have crushed most men. The dark eyes gleamed with a solemn hope. Tom longed to ask what his father was to try to do, but he was not silly enough to put his thought in

ou should slip into a fight occasionally I wouldn't blame you much. Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of War, kicked about it. He said he didn't believe in giving commissions to babies. I told him you could almost speak plain an

esk, put on his spectacles, took up his

such an honor. He was an officer of the Union. He was to carry dispatches for the Presi

to Jonah: 'You've given me a terrible stomach-ache.' And Jonah said: 'That's what you got because you didn't have sense enough to keep your mouth shut.' But remember, Tom, to go scouting in the right way. What I want is the truth. It's a hard thing for a President to get. I don't want tittle-tattle, evil gossip, idle talk. When I was in Congress, there was a fine old fellow in the House from Florida. I remember he said once that the Florida wolf was 'a mean critter that'd go snoopin' 'round twenty miles a night ruther than not do a mischief.' Don't be a wolf, To

this afternoon

y. I'll say good-by to the folk

a run. He flew along the halls and up the stairs to the attic. He burst into his room. On his narrow bed lay his new uniform. Mrs. Lincoln, kindly housewife that she was, had done her part in the little conspiracy for th

to have a night on a warship. It was a new experience. And his father had told him that experience was the best teacher in the world. The beautiful lines of the frigate were a joy to see. Her spick and span cleanliness, the trim and trig sailors and marines, the rows of polished cannon that

?" asked Tom. "Is

and we haven't got it back-yet. That rocket went up from there. The Secesh are up to some deviltry. They've been signaling a good

ere nothing ever happened, the next morning and was to make many things happen. The Confederates had converted the old Union frigate, the "Merrimac," into a new, strange, and monstrous thing. They had placed a battery of cannon of a size never before mo

racing to the "Cumberland" with news of the danger that was fast nearing her. The news was a tonic to officers and to men. Here

as a pa

painted

illed with the thrill of all about him, was glad to know that the dispatch boat would not sail until that afternoon and that he could see the fight. Everyone around him was sure o

"Merrimac." A wooden ship would have been blown to bits by the concentrated fury of the cannonade. Alas! the cannon-balls glanced from her armored sides "like peas from a pop-gun." They rattled like hail upon her and did her no more hurt than hail-stones would have done. She came on like an ir

by to

ound of her first volley was the voice of doom. Her great cannon sent masses of iron through and through the pitiful wooden walls that had dared to stand

officers are dead

urning to two young midshipmen who st

boys raced down to the gun-deck, they saw a fearful scene. Dead and wounded men lay everywhere. The sawdust that in those days used to be strewn about, before entering action, in order to soak up the blood of the men who fell and keep the decks from growing slippery with it, had soaked up all it could, but there were thin red trickles flowing along the deck. Two or three of the cannon had been dismounted. Crushed masses that had been human flesh lay ben

ire! Loa

hip. The sea about her was black with wreckage and with struggling men. Boats from other ships and from the shore darted among them, picking them up. The dispatch boat that had brought Tom down was busy with that good work. The "Merrimac" could have sunk her without effort, but of course the Confederates never dreamed of making the effort. Americans do not fire at drowning men. When Tom jumped into the water, as the ship sank beneath him, he swam to a shattered spar and clutched it. But other men who could not swim clutched at it too. It

. Raked fore and aft by her adversary's guns, unable to fire a single effective shot in reply, she ran upon a shoal while trying to escape from being rammed and lay there, no longer a fighting machine, but a mere target for her foe. Her captain could not hope to save his ship. The only thing he could do was to save the lives of such of

, great frigates, the finest of their kind then afloat, perfectly appointed, fully manned,-and as useless as though they had been the toy-boats of a child. The "Minnesota," now the flagship, signaled Captain Lawrence's stirring slogan: "Don't give up the ship!" It might have been called a

city and levy tribute upon it. Lincoln's Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles of Connecticut, wrote in his diary that night: "The most frightened man on that gloomy day was the Secretary of War. He was at times almost frantic.... He ran from

k on Kettle Bottom Shoals, in the Potomac, to keep the "Merrimac" from reaching Washington. The canal-boats reached the Sh

o'clock of that fateful night there had steamed in from the oce

asked the first capt

ike a cheese-b

HE "MONITOR" AN

famous fighting craft that ever sailed the seas. She was born of the brain of a Swedish-American, Capt. John Ericsson, whos

terrible antagonist. Her guns were of a greater caliber, to be sure, than any wooden ship mounted, but there were but two of them and they could be brought to bear only by revolving the "Monitor's" turret,-a newfangled device in everyday use now, but then unknown and consequently de

c" did not fall into the trap. On the contrary, she left her adversary and made a headlong course for the helpless "Minnesota." On board the latter, drums beat to quarters, shrill whistles gave orders, and the great ship moved forward to what seemed certain destruction. But the "Monitor" slipped away from the shoals and made after the "Merrimac," firing her guns as rapidly as her creaking turret could turn. The "Merrimac" faced about, bound this time to make short work of this wretched little gnat that was seeking to sting her. This time the two came to close grips. Each tried to ram the other down. Each struck the other, but struck a glancing blow. They lay almost alongside and pounded

ch boat that carried him back put him on board the President's boat, south of Kettle Bottom Shoals, on the Potomac, in obedience to orders signaled to it. When he had finished his story, there was silence for a moment. The boy saw Lincoln's lips mo

ton's navy,"