The Union Defeat December 1862

      The loud babble of agitated voices echoed from the Presidents office causing her to hasten down the dim gas lighted hallway from her bedroom, anxious for whatever bad news this clamoring meant. She silently paused in the shadows of the entryway, unseen by the three men, her husband tall and solemn listening quietly to the other two animated in the deep conversation. The look of sadness and failure on her husbands face caused her to offer up a silent prayer as she peered through the doorway, huddled in the darkness
    “ Look here Lincoln, it’s a blood bath down there. You can’t believe the carnage as row after row of men marched stealthily from the rivers banks up to Marye’s Heights above the town. Burnside is a bumbling fool and an idiot to send his men across open ground in broad daylight like that against an enemy holding the high ground and well entrenched. Every report I hear tells me that our men were cut down like new mown hay by the musket volleys from the Confederates dug in on those heights. Sitting ducks they were, ripe for the harvest! You sent many a brave lad from the Union into a veritable slaughter pen!” Governor Curtain of Pennsylvania shouted, his voice ripe with anger and tinged with bitterness. “ I have been to Fredericksburg, seen first hand the results of General Burnsides debacle.  Thousands of wounded men are strewn all over the frozen muddy fields lying in their own blood and gore, crying for attention, needing food and water. Many are huddled for warmth beneath the rotting bodies of unburied dead. They need attention, for Gods sake, Mr. President, they need help! This has to stop! The country can’t take any more of this. Think of numbers of new widows and orphans you created, in this colossal failure!  For the love of God man, you have got to do something to end this war! Their blood and souls are on your hands as commander and chief!”
      She watched in pain and horror as her husbands face blanched white as a ghost and he reeled backwards as if to faint at the visioned horrors on the not so far off battlefield. She longed to run to him, take him in her loving arms and comfort him, tell him it was just a setback, that all would be okay, but she couldn’t not while those frightful men were there.  She was too busy watching his pale, suddenly old face to hear his quietly mumbled remark, all she heard was the last line and the accompanying shocked gasp from the others, “ I want you and the rest of the country to help me let go of this hog called war!”
    She drew back further into the shadow of the doorway, hoping she was hidden from the angry gaze of Governor Curtain of Pennsylvania and another man as they swept away from the room.  They paused for a moment seeing her pale cherubic face offset by her dress of deep black, “ You better go to him, Mrs. Lincoln. He will need you tonight more than ever. The souls of thousands of men rest upon his shoulders in this latest Union failure at Fredericksburg.  God help the country and God help him. He’s got a great burden to bear!”
    The air stirred chilly and foreboding as they brushed past her, heading quickly out of the White House into the bitterly cold winters night. She saw her husband sway once more as he gazed at the telegraph reports in his hands, listing untold numbers of dead and wounded. Silk skirts rustling, she rushed to him as she saw his shoulders sag in defeat. His long lean form slumped on to her shoulder in a near faint. She spoke no words; there were none to say.  With all her fragile strength, she helped him over to the worn horsehair settee and eased his long lean form onto it, covering him quickly with a warm gray wool blanket as he mumbled ,  “What will the country say? What will the country say?”
    She sank on the floor beside him, listening to his tortured moans, knowing he was thinking of the dear boys on the field in not so far off Virginia. His haunting gray eyes finally closed in what she knew would be an unrestful sleep, knowing he was personally feeling the failure that accompanied each defeat on the field of battle. They shared this moment of failure together, as they had all others. She sighed and prayed they would someday know the sweetness of victory.