The White House Grounds & Entrance: Pets

Mr. Lincoln was fond of pets. He had two goats that knew the sound of his voice, and when he called them they would come bounding to his side. In the warm bright days, he and Tad would sometimes play in the yard with these goats, for an hour at a time. One Saturday afternoon I went to the White House to dress Mrs. Lincoln. I had nearly completed my task when the President came in. It was a bright day, and walking to the window, he looked down into the yard, smiled, and, turning to me, asked: 'Madam Elizabeth, you are fond of pets, are you not?'
'O yes, sir,' I answered.
'Well, come here and look at my two goats. I believe they are the kindest and best goats in the world. See how they sniff the clear air, and skip and play in the sunshine. Whew? what a jump,' he exclaimed as one of the goats made a lofty spring. 'Madam Elizabeth, did you ever before see such an active goat?' Musing a moment, he continued: 'He feeds on my bounty, and jumps with joy. Do you think we could call him a bounty-jumper? But I flatter the bounty-jumper. My goat is far above him. I would rather wear his horns and hairy coat through life, than demean myself to the level of the man who plunders the national treasury in the name of patriotism. The man who enlists into the service for a consideration, and deserts the moment he receives for a consideration, and deserts the moment he receives his money but to repeat the play, is bad enough; but the men who manipulate the grand machine and who simply make the bounty-jumper their agent in an outrageous fraud are far worse. They are beneath the worms that crawl in the dark hidden places of earth.'
His lips curled with haughty scorn, and a cloud was gathering on his brow. Only a moment the shadow rested on his face. Just then both goats looked up at the window and shook their heads as if they would say, 'How d'ye do, old friend?'
"See, Madam Elizabeth,' exclaimed the President in a tone of enthusiasm, 'my pets recognize me. How earnestly they look! They go again; what jolly fun!' and he laughed outright as the goats bounded swiftly to the other side of the yard. Just then Mrs. Lincoln called out, 'Come, Lizabeth; if I get ready to go down this evening I must finish dressing myself, or you must stop staring at those silly goats.'
Mrs. Lincoln was not fond of pets, and she could not understand how Mr. Lincoln could take so much delight in his goats. After Willie's death, she could not bear the sight of anything he loved, not even a flower. Costly bouquets were presented to her, but she turned from them with a shudder, and either placed them in a room where she could not see them, or threw them out of the window. She gave all of Willie's toys — everything connected with him — away, as she said she could not look upon them without thinking of her poor dead boy, and to think of him, in his white shroud and cold grave, was maddening. I never in my life saw a more peculiarly constituted woman. Search the world over, and you will not find her counterpart. After Mr. Lincoln's death, the goats that he loved so well were given away--I believe to Mrs. Lee, nee Miss Blair, one of the few ladies with whom Mrs. Lincoln was on intimate terms in Washington.⁵

The soldiers on duty about the house made a pet of the bird, and on the last election day the boy came tearing up into his father's room to call his attention to the fact that the soldiers were voting. Noticing the turkey among them, the President asked 'Tad' if the turkey was voting, too; to which the boy promptly responded — 'O, no; he isn't of age yet!' The indulgent father thought that was reply was a great deal better than many of the so-called Lincoln stories." ⁷

"Pardon for Jack, eh,' said the President, smiling, but with a pretense of mock gravity. 'You know, Tad, it's not usual to grant pardons without some sort of hearing. You come in here and tell me why you think Jack should have a pardon.'
Major Hay, with a disgusted snort, stepped aside and we trooped after the President into his office. He sat down in his big chair, crossed one long leg over the other and put the tips of his fingers together in a judicial manner.
'State your case, Tad,' he said gravely.
'Well, you see, Pa,' said Tad, 'most every day we try Jack for being a spy or deserter or something and then we shot him and bury him, and Julie says it spoils his clothes, and Major Watt says it digs up his flowers, and so we thought we'd get you to fix us up a pardon.'
"The President considered this argument with due gravity; then he said, with a twinkle in his eye,, 'Yes, Tad, I think you've made a case. It's a good law that no man shall twice be put in jeopardy of his life for the same offence and you've already shot and buried Jack a dozen times. I guess he's entitled to a pardon.' Turning round to his desk, he wrote something on a sheet of paper and handed it to Tad, saying, 'There's your pardon, Tad. And I only wish, Hay,' he said to his secretary with a sort of sigh, 'they were all that easy."⁸