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| Mary Todd Lincoln - 1861 |
SEE THE PREVIOUS SCENES:
The Silhouette of Elizabeth Keckley: SCENES 1-2
The Silhouette of Elizabeth Keckley: SCENES 3-4
Scene Five
MRS. KECKLEY
Work came in slowly, and I did not know how I was to meet the
bills staring me in the face. While in this situation I called at the Ringolds,
where I met Mrs. Captain Lee. Mrs. L.
was in a state bordering on excitement, as the great event of the season, the
dinner-party given in honor of the Prince of Wales, was soon to come off, and
she must have a dress suitable for the occasion. Miss Ringold recommended me,
and I received the order to make the dress. It was an instant success, and I received numerous orders that made
relieved my financial burdens.
(LIZZIE enters from SL, sewing a garment as she
walks slowly on stage. MRS. MCLEAN
enters excitedly from SR.)
One of my new patrons was Mrs. Genenral McClean, a daughter of
General Sumner.
MRS. MCCLEAN
Lizzie, I am invited to dine at Willard's on
next Sunday, and
positively I have not a dress fit to wear on the
occasion. I have just purchased material, and you must commence work on it
right away.
LIZZIE
But Mrs. McClean, I have more work now promised
than I can
do. It is impossible for me to make a dress for
you to wear on Sunday next.
MRS. MCCLEAN
Pshaw! Nothing is impossible. I must have the
dress made by Sunday.
LIZZIE
I am sorry-
MRS. MCCLEAN
Now don't say no again. I tell you that you must
make the dress. I have often heard you say that you would like to work for the
ladies of the White House. Well, I have it in my power to obtain you this privilege.
I know Mrs. Lincoln well, and you shall make a dress for her provided you finish
mine in time to wear at dinner on Sunday.
MRS. KECKLEY
The inducement was the best that could have been offered. I had
always wanted to work for the ladies of the White House. I would
undertake the dress if I should have to sit up all night--every
night, to make my pledge good. I sent out and employed assistants, and, after much
worry and trouble, the dress was completed to the satisfaction of Mrs. McClean.
(The CS screen lights up to reveal two ladies,
their frozen silhouettes creating the image of MARY admiring MRS. MCCLEAN'S
dress.)
MRS. KECKLEY (Cont.)
Mrs. McLean made good on her promise and it was through her that I
would meet Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, First Lady of the United States. It appears
that Mrs. Lincoln had upset a cup of coffee on the dress she designed wearing
on the evening of the reception after the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln as
President of the United States, which rendered it necessary that she should
have a new one for the occasion.
(MRS.
MCLEAN begins to move and shows off her gown.)
MARY
Who is your dress-maker?
MRS. MCCLEAN
Lizzie Keckley
MARY
Lizzie Keckley?
The name is familiar to me. She
used to work for some of my lady friends in St. Louis, and they spoke well of
her. Can you recommend her to me?
MRS. MCCLEAN
With confidence.
Shall I send her to you?
MARY
If you please.
I shall feel under many obligations for your kindness.
(The
light of the CS darkens.)
MRS. KECKLEY
The streets of the capital were thronged with people, for this was
Inauguration day.
(The two side screens light up, the SR screen
with the silhouette of ABRAHAM LINCOLN and the SL screen with MARY.)
A new President, a man of the people from the broad prairies of the
West, was to accept the solemn oath of office, was to assume the
responsibilities attached to the high position of Chief Magistrate of the
United States.
(LIZZIE enters warily on stage, looking around
as if in awe - she is in the White House.
After a moment she sees the silhouette of ABRAHAM and stops to stare.)
Never was such deep interest felt in the inauguration proceedings
as was felt today; for threats of assassination had been made, and every breeze
from the South came heavily laden with the rumors of war.
MARY
(Her
Silhouette turning sideways to face LIZZIE.)
You have come at last, Mrs. Keckley.
( LIZZIE
spins to face MARY and stares in awe.)
You are Lizzie Keckley, I believe. The dress-maker that Mrs. McClean
recommended?
LIZZIE
(Remembering
herself, she curtseys.)
Yes, madam
MARY
(Stepping from the silhouette to enter onto the
stage. The two women stare at each other
curiously. MARY smiles and turns to
cross to the sitting area. LIZZIE follows.)
Who have you worked for in the city?
LIZZIE
Among others, Mrs. Senator Davis has been one of
my best patrons-
MARY
Mrs. Davis!
So you have worked for her, have you?
Of course you gave satisfaction... Can you do my work?
LIZZIE
Yes, Mrs. Lincoln. Will you have much work for me to do?
MARY
That, Mrs. Keckley, will depend altogether upong
your prices. I trust that your terms are
reasonable. I cannot afford to be
extravagant. We are just from the West,
and are poor. If you do not charge too
much, I shall be able to give you all my work.
LIZZIE
My terms are very reasonable, Mrs. Lincoln.
MARY
Well, if you will work cheap, you shall have
plenty to do. I can't afford to pay big
prices, so I frankly tell you so in the beginning.
(The
ladies exit quietly SL).
MRS. KECKLEY
The terms were satisfactorily arranged, and I measured Mrs.
Lincoln, took the dress with me, a bright rose-colored moiré-antique, and returned
the next day to fit it on her. Tuesday evening came, and I had taken the last
stitches on the dress. I
folded it and carried it to the White House. When I went upstairs,
I found the ladies in a terrible state of excitement. Mrs. Lincoln was
protesting that she could not go down, for the reason that she had nothing to
wear. She believed she had no time to
dress and refused to go downstairs.
However, she had never been dressed by me.
(Beat. In
the following monologue, MRS. KECKLEY explains how a woman of her time dressed
for the day. It can be slightly comical
but should try to realistically represent the stages and not fall into farce.)
Let us pause here for moment to consider the
complexities of dressing a modern Victorian lady. In 1861, most clothing was still hand-made,
though things were changing. A lady
would custom order a dress from a seamstress that was specifically fit for her
body and all the layers she wore underneath.
(The CS lights up on the frozen silhouette of a MODEL
lady. She is wearing stockings, shoes,
drawers, and hard her arms crosses over her chest where she has bundled her
chemise so the silhouette starts as almost bare.)
A genteel lady did not simply throw a gown on
over her crinoline hoop skirt; she had quite a few steps to go through first,
beginning with her stockings. These
stretched up to just above the knee and were black during the day and white in
the evening, with garters to hold them in place. Drawers were made of two overlapping flaps,
one for each leg, and seamless in the middle for a lady's toilette. Over this, a sleeveless, knee-length chemise
was worn. Shoes would be chosen and put
on at this time because once dressed, a lady would not be able to bend
over. Slippers were worn indoors, but
when venturing outside to call on friends, a sturdier boot was chosen.
(The MODEL releases her chemise and smooths it
down. Two LADIES enter to help with the dressing, showing each step as it is
described. A simplified version of the
complex dress routine can be created to simplify and quicken the pace since it
is performed completely in silhouette.)
Next was the corset, strengthened by
whalebone. It fastened in the front and
laced up the back before being pulled as tight as possible to create a tiny
waist and offering a figure several inches smaller. It was by this size I would measure a lady
for a dress. She would then put on a
petticoat for modesty under her large hoop skirt we call a crinoline.
(The
LADIES put the petticoat and crinoline on the MODEL.)
The
crinoline was perfected just years earlier, and offered the ladies a lighter
ensemble. Before this, women would wear
five or six petticoats layered for volume - now they had a flexible cage of
steel to support their bell shaped skirts.
It was even easy to sit in, collapsing under a lady as she sat on the
very edge of a chair.
(The
LADIES add a camisole then a petticoat to the MODEL.)
A camisole was added next, as layer to shield
the dress from the woman's skin so that oils and perspiration did not transfer
to the expensive outer layers. A fancier petticoat, one that could potentially
be seen, was added next. It would have
frills or embroidery to compliment the dress to be worn. Finally we come to the gown itself.
(The
LADIES dress the model in a sleeveless evening dress.)
In the evening a lady would bare her arms, and
wear dresses that revealed their neckline.
Always with gloves, of course.
During the day, however, the skin was to be protected by long sleeves
and a high neck line, with a parasol for shade.
Many gowns would have one skirt and two bodices, one for night and one
for day, to be more economical. I would
also add a ruff along the bottom of the skirt to protect the expensive material
and it could be replaced later when it became soiled by the ground. Each dress was custom designed to a lady's
measurements, and my particular specialty was a perfect fit for every customer.
(The LADIES complete the dressing and hand the
MODEL all of the items MRS. KECKLEY mentions.)
Ready to venture out to call on friends, a lady
would add a bonnet to protect their hair, gloves to protect the skin of her
hands, a parasol for shading the face, and a small handbag with perfume, a
handkerchief, a fan, and her calling card tucked neatly away.
(The
LADY stands, fully dressed, as the other LADIES step away.)
With all that was to be done to properly dress a
lady,
(The
screen goes dark.)
it is no surprise that Mrs. Lincoln was so upset
by my arrival. But as I said before, she
had never been dressed by me.
(MARY
enters SL, dressed in all the under layers and a steel crinoline. She is upset and turns back to address
LIZZY.)
MARY
Mrs. Keckley, you have disappointed me. Deceived me. Why do you bring my dress at
this late hour?
(LIZZY enters with the finished dress, followed
by MRS. MCCLEAN in an evening gown.)
LIZZY (confused)
Because I have just finished it, and I thought I should be in
time.
MARY
But you are not in time, Mrs. Keckley; you have bitterly
disappointed me. I have no time now to dress, and, what is more, I will not
dress, and go down-stairs.
LIZZY
I am sorry if I have disappointed you, Mrs. Lincoln. I intended to
be in time. Will you let me dress you? I can have you ready in a few minutes.
MRS. MCCLEAN
Oh do, Mary.
MARY
No, I won't be dressed. I will stay in my room. Mr. Lincoln can go
down with the other ladies.
MRS. MCCLEAN
But there is plenty of time for you to dress, Mary. Let Mrs. Keckley assist you, and she will
soon have you ready.
MARY
Oh... very well.
(LIZZIE and MRS. MCCLEAN help MARY dress by
putting on a petticoat over the crinoline then the skirt and the bodice. The SR screen lights up with the silhouette
of ABRAHAM LINCOLN, reading papers.
LIZZIE glances at it then busies herself with dressing MARY. ABRAHAM enters, visibly tired by the news he
reads in the letters.
 |
| Abraham Lincoln - 1861 |
ABRAHAM
(Quoting his favorite poem,
"Mortality," by William Knox.
This is a portion of the poem - it can be adjusted for time, but should
end when the dress is on MARY. During
the poem, ABRAHAM crosses to the desk and lays the papers on it, removing his
top hat and sitting, going over paperwork, signing, etc. )
Oh!
why should the spirit of mortal be proud?Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.
The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.
The infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother that infant's affection who proved;
The husband, that mother and infant who blest,--
Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.
The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure, -- her triumphs are by;
And the memory of those who loved her and praised,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.
The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.
The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.
So the multitude goes -- like the flower or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes -- even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.
(When LIZZIE begins to adjust MARY'S hair, ABRAHAM
crosses into the sitting area, still quoting the poem, and with a slight nod to
the other ladies he throws himself on the chaise. and begins to put on his
gloves, coming to a flourishing stop with the poem.)
MARY
You seem to be in a poetical mood tonight.
ABRAHAM (pleasantly)
Yes, mother, these are poetical times. I declare, you look charming in that dress.
Mrs. Keckley has met with great success.
And Mrs. McClean, elegant as always.
I was quoting a poem by Mr. William Knox. He called it "Mortality," and I do
believe it is my favorite.
MARY
I do declare, Tad has run off with my lace
handkerchief once again. Mischievous
boy. He has your spirit, father. Oh, please help me discover its whereabouts.
ABRAHAM
(Watching the ladies search then sitting up and
finding the handkerchief in the chaise.)
Here it is, mother.
(Offering the
handkerchief.)
MARY
Oh! Thank
you.
(Taking the handkerchief, she adjusts ABRAHAM'S
untamed hair. He smiles at her then
stands and offers his arm. He exits with
her stage right to a fanfare of music, followed by MRS. MCCLEAN. LIZZIE watches them exit then exits stage
left. The CS screen lights up on the
silhouettes of ABRAHAM and MARY as Mr. and Mrs. President.)
MRS. KECKLEY
I was surprised at her grace and composure. I had heard so much,
in current and malicious report, of her low life, of her ignorance and
vulgarity, that I expected to see her embarrassed on this occasion. Report, I
soon saw, was wrong. No queen, accustomed to the usages of royalty all her life,
could have comported herself with more calmness and dignity than
did the wife of the President. She was confident and
self-possessed, and confidence always gives grace.
(Beat.)
I became the regular modiste of Mrs. Lincoln. I made fifteen or sixteen
dresses for her during the spring and early part of the summer and by that fall
we were at war with the South. Every day
brought stirring news from the front--the front, where the Gray
opposed the Blue,
(The SR screen lights up with the silhouette a
Union soldier, the SL screen with that of a Confederate. The CS screen displays silhouettes of the
flags.)
where flashed the bright sabre in the sunshine, where were heard
the angry notes of battle, the deep roar of cannon, and the fearful rattle of
musketry; where new graves were being made every day, where brother forgot a
mother's early blessing and sought the lifeblood of brother,
(The soldiers turn on each other in slow motion
and begin firing, on soldier hitting the other, causing the wounded man to
slowly fly back out of the frame.)
and friend raised the deadly knife against friend. Oh, the front,
with its stirring battle-scenes! Oh, the front, with its ghastly heaps of dead!
(The remaining soldier drops to his knees and
puts his hand to his chest then draws it away and looks at it as the screen
goes dark.)
The life of the nation was at stake and no President and his
family, heretofore occupying this mansion, ever excited so much curiosity as
the present incumbents. Mr. Lincoln had grown up in the wilds of the West, and
evil report had said much of him
and his wife. The polite world was shocked, and the tendency to
exaggerate intensified curiosity. As soon as it was known that I
was the modiste of Mrs. Lincoln, parties crowded around and affected friendship
for me, hoping to induce me to betray the secrets of the domestic circle.
(LIZZIE enters from SL, a engrossed in a sewing
project as the SR screen lights up with the silhouette of an ACTRESS.)
ACTRESS
Mrs. Keckley!
Is it true you know Mrs. Lincoln?
LIZZIE
Yes
ACTRESS
You are her modiste, are you not? Do you know her well?
LIZZIE
Yes, I'm with her every day or two.
ACTRESS
Do you think you have some influence with her?
LIZZIE
I cannot say.
I resume Mrs. Lincoln would listen to anything I should suggest, but
influence is another question.
ACTRESS
Oh, I'm sure you could influence her. I do so want to be in the circle of those in
the White House, and I've heard so much of Mr. Lincoln's goodness that I should
like to be near him. My dear Mrs.
Keckley, would you not recommend me to Mrs. Lincoln and see if she would take
me as her chambermaid? If you do you
shall be rewarded. It may be worth
several thousand dollars.
LIZZIE
Madam, you are mistaken in regard to my
character. Sooner than betray the trust of a friend. I am not so base as that.
Pardon me, but there is the door, and I trust that you will never enter my room
again.
ACTRESS
You'll live to regret your action today.
LIZZIE
(As the ACTRESS turns her back and the screen
goes dark.)
Never!... Never.
(She crosses to the sitting area to sit and work
on her project.)
MRS. KECKLEY
I afterwards learned that this woman was an actress, and that her
object was to enter the White House as a servant, learn its secrets, and then publish
a scandal to the world. I do not give her name, I simply tell the incident to
show how I often was approached by unprincipled parties. It is unnecessary to
say that I indignantly refused every bribe offered.
(The CS screen lights up on
the silhouettes of ROBERT and MARY.)
ROBERT
You see mother?
She says right here that she refused every bribe to tell your
secrets. Surely she didn't mean to tell
so much. There must be some other
reason.
MARY
Nonsense!
Who writes a book telling a beloved friend's life to the world then in
that same book acts as if those personal details were guarded! She protected me from what... a hand full of
interlopers? Yet fed me to the wolves! The book could end up in the hands of anyone.
ROBERT
Mother, she did not feed you to the wolves. She...
MARY
Oh do, Robert.
Do find some way to defend her because I promise you, son, you cannot. She has betrayed me to my very soul.
ROBERT
There.... there just needs to be an
explanation. We are talking about
Lizbeth, Mother. Lizzie would never-
MARY
Would never?!
She has Robert, she can't never
have done something if she has done
it. (Beat.) Oh. My nerves are a flutter. Let's have no more talk of that colored
historian today.
(The CS screen goes dark.)
Scene 6
(MARY enters SL, excitedly. After a moment, ABRAHAM enters and watches
his wife from "the door" of the sitting area.)
MARY
Lizabeth, I have an idea. These are war times, and we must be as
economical as possible. You know the President is expected to give a series of
state dinners every winter, and these dinners are very costly; Now I want to
avoid this expense; and my idea is, that if I give three large receptions, the state
dinners can be scratched from the programme. What do you think, Lizabeth?
LIZZIE
I think that you are right, Mrs. Lincoln.
MARY
I am glad to hear you say so. If I can make Mr. Lincoln take the
same view of the case, I shall not fail to put the idea into practice.
ABRAHAM
Mother, I am afraid your plan will not work.
MARY
But it will work, if you
will only determine that it shall
work.
ABRAHAM (mildly)
It is breaking in on the regular custom.
MARY
But you forget, father, these are war times, and old customs can
be done away with for the once. The idea is economical, you must admit.
ABRAHAM
Yes, mother, but we must think of something besides economy.
MARY
I do think of something else. Public receptions are more
democratic than stupid state dinners... are more in keeping with the spirit of
the institutions of our country, as you would say if called upon to make a stump
speech. There are a great many strangers in the city, foreigners and others,
whom we can entertain at our receptions, but whom we cannot invite to our
dinners.
ABRAHAM
I believe you are right, mother. You argue the point well. I think
that we shall have to decide on the receptions.
(ABRAHAM
exits SR, followed by MARY.)
MRS. KECKLEY
And so, arrangements were made for the first reception. It now was
January 1862, and cards were issued for February.
TAD (offstage)
Momma!... Momma!
(MARY
rushes off stage, followed by LIZZIE.)
MRS. KECKLEY
The children, Tad and Willie, were constantly receiving presents.
Willie was so delighted with a little pony, that he insisted on riding it every
day. The weather was changeable, and exposure resulted in a severe cold, which
deepened into fever.
(The CS screen lights up to reveal the frozen
silhouette of MARY sitting TAD'S bed, comforting him. Moments later LIZZIE enters with a bowl and
cloth and offers it to MARY, who wipes TAD'S brow. The following monologue does not pause while
the brief silhouette scenes illustrate the story.)
He was very sick. I was
summoned to his bedside. It was sad to see the poor boy suffer.
(The screen goes dark.)
Always of a delicate constitution, he could not resist the strong
inroads of disease.
(The CS screen lights on
MARY paces as ABRAHAM sits on the bed.)
The days dragged wearily by, and he grew weaker and more
shadow-like. He was his mother's favorite child, and she doted on him.
(MARY kisses TAD'S forehead
as the screen goes dark.)
It grieved her heart sorely to see him suffer. When able to be
about, he was almost constantly by her side.
(The CS screen lights up on LIZZIE sitting with
TAD, ROBERT standing watch nearby.)
When I would go in her room, almost always I found blue-eyed
Willie there, reading from an open book, or curled up in
a chair with pencil and paper in hand.
(The screen goes dark.)
Finding that Willie continued to grow worse, Mrs. Lincoln
determined to withdraw her cards of invitation and postpone the reception.
(The CS screen lights up on ABRAHAM and MARY
speaking nearby, glancing over at TAD.
ABRAHAM puts his hand on MARY'S arm, they embrace before he leaves. Mary looks at her son for a moment then goes
to sit by his bed.)
Mr. Lincoln thought that the cards had better not be withdrawn. At
least he advised that the doctor be consulted before any steps were taken.
(The CS screen goes dark.)
Accordingly Dr. Stone was called in. He pronounced Willie better,
and said that there was every reason for an early recovery. He thought, since
the invitations had been issued, it would be best to go on with the reception.
Willie, he insisted, was in no immediate danger.
(The CS screen lights up on
MARY sitting alone with TAD.)
On the evening of the reception Willie was suddenly taken worse.
His mother sat by his bedside a long while, holding his feverish hand in her
own, and watching his labored breathing. The doctor claimed there was no cause for
alarm.
(The screen goes dark.)
I arranged Mrs. Lincoln's hair, then assisted her to dress.
Her dress was white satin, trimmed with black lace. She had a
beautiful neck and arm, and low dresses were becoming to her.
(The CS screen lights up on TAD, alone. After a moment, LIZZIE walks in and stares at
the boy before going to sit on his bed.)
She took the President's arm, and both went down-stairs to their
guests, leaving me alone with the sick boy.
The reception was a large and brilliant one, and the rich notes of the Marine
Band in the apartments below came to the sick-room in soft, subdued murmurs,
like the wild, faint sobbing of far-off spirits.
(A soft tune can be heard
as the screen goes dark.)
The brilliance of the scene could not dispel the sadness that
rested upon the face of Mrs. Lincoln.
(The CS screen lights up on LIZZIE keeping watch
over TAD as MARY comes in to see the boy.)
During the evening she came upstairs several times, and stood by
the bedside of the suffering boy. She loved him with a mother's heart, and her
anxiety was great. The night passed slowly; morning came, and Willie was worse.
(The screen goes dark.)
He lingered a few days, and died.
(Beat.)
I was worn out with watching, and was not in the room when Willie
died, but was immediately sent for. I assisted in washing him and dressing him,
and then laid him on the bed, when Mr. Lincoln came in.
(The CS screen lights up on TAD, alone. LIZZIE enters from SR, wiping her hands on a
cloth and stops as ABRAHAM walks
in. Both stand before the brightly lit
screen, almost silhouettes.)
I never saw a man so bowed down with grief.
ABRAHAM
(Gazing at his son's
silhouette.)
My poor boy, he was too good for this earth. God
has called him home. I know that he is much better off in heaven, but then we
loved him so. It is hard, hard to have him die!
(He breaks down into huge sobs, burying his head
in his hands, his tall frame convulsing.
LIZZIE stands quietly, tears running down her cheeks as she watches
ABRAHAM in sympathy and wonder.)
MRS. KECKLEY
I did not dream that his rugged nature could be
so moved. I shall never forget those solemn moments--genius and greatness
weeping over love's idol lost. Typhoid fever had claimed his son, the boy most
like his father in temperament as well intelligence. Though he never said so, I suspect that of
Robert, Willie, and Tad... Willie was his favorite.
(Beat.)
Mrs. Lincoln's grief was inconsolable. The pale face of her dead
boy threw her into convulsions. Around him love's tendrils had been twined, and
now that he was dressed for the tomb, it was like tearing the tendrils out of
the heart by their roots.
MARY
(Entering from SL.)
Serpents!... The serpents!... They have crossed
out pathways.
(She chokes out a desperate
scream.)
Serpents!
ABRAHAM
(Taking hold of MARY as she sobs and struggles before
calming slightly. He leads her down
center stage, window light coming up on both their haggard faces. He solemnly points out beyond the audience.)
Mother, do you see that large white building on the hill yonder?
Try and control your grief, or it will drive you mad, and we may have to send
you there.
(ABRAHAM tries to comfort and calm MARY. She turns stony in his arms and he kisses her
forhead before she numbly exits SL. He
exits behind her. LIZZIE turns to the
still-lit screen, back to the audience, once more an almost-silhouette as the
screen goes dark.)
MRS. KECKLEY
Mrs. Lincoln was so completely overwhelmed with sorrow that she
did not attend the funeral. Willie was laid to rest in the cemetery, and the White
House was draped in mourning. Black crape everywhere met the eye, contrasting
strangely with the gay and brilliant colors of a few days before. Party dresses
were laid aside, and everyone who crossed the threshold of the Presidential
mansion spoke in subdued tones when they
thought of the sweet boy at rest
(Beat.)
Previous to this I had lost my son. Leaving Wilberforce, he went
to the battle-field with the three months troops, and was killed in Missouri. He found his grave on the battle-field where
the gallant General Lyon fell. It was a sad blow to me, and the kind womanly
letter that Mrs. Lincoln wrote to me when she heard of my bereavement was full
of golden words of comfort.
 |
| Willie Lincoln |
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