A. Lincoln.

TO T. J. HENDERSON.

Executive Mansion, Washington, December 20, 1862.

Hon.  T. J. Henderson.

Dear sir:-Your letter of the 8th to Hon. William Kellogg has just been shown me.  You can scarcely overestimate the pleasure it would give me to oblige you, but nothing is operating so ruinously upon us everywhere as “absenteeism.”  It positively will not do for me to grant leaves of absence in cases not sufficient to procure them under the regular rules.

It would astonish you to know the extent of the evil of “absenteeism.”  We scarcely have more than half the men we are paying on the spot for service anywhere.

Yours very truly,

A. Lincoln.

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON,

December 22, 1862.

To the army of the Potomac: 

I have just read your general’s report of the battle of Fredericksburg.  Although you were not successful, the attempt was not an error, nor the failure other than accident.  The courage with which you, in an open field, maintained the contest against an intrenched foe, and the consummate skill and success with which you crossed and recrossed the river in the face of the enemy, show that you possess all the qualities of a great army, which will yet give victory to the cause of the country and of popular government.

Condoling with the mourners for the dead, and sympathizing with the severely wounded, I congratulate you that the number of both is comparatively so small.

I tender to you, officers and soldiers, the thanks of the nation.

A. Lincoln.

LETTER OF CONDOLENCE

To miss Fanny McCULLOUGH.

Executive Mansion, Washington,
December, 23, 1862.

Dear Fanny:—­It is with deep regret that I learn of the death of your kind and brave father, and especially that it is affecting your young heart beyond what is common in such cases.  In this sad world of ours sorrow comes to all, and to the young it comes with bittered agony because it takes them unawares.

The older have learned ever to expect it.  I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress, perfect relief is not possible, except with time.  You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better.  Is not this so?  And yet it is a mistake.  You are sure to be happy again.  To know this, which is certainly true, will make you some less miserable now.  I have had experience enough to know what I say, and you need only to believe it to feel better at once.  The memory of your dear father, instead of an agony, will yet be a sad, sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before.