Recollections of Abraham Lincoln, 1847-1865Lamon, Ward Hill
History
Recollections of Abraham Lincoln, 1847-1865
Lamon, Ward Hill
Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865
At the time to which I refer, Tad seemed to his fond father the most
lovable object on earth. That fondness had been intensified by the death
of Willie just mentioned. In one of the vacant rooms of the White House
Tad had fitted up, with the aid of the servants, a miniature theatre.
The little fellow had rare skill and good taste in such matters, and
after long and patient effort the work was completed. There were the
stage, the orchestra, the parquet, the curtains, and all the
paraphernalia pertaining to what he called "a real theatre," and Tad was
in a delirium of childish joy. About this time, just after the review of
Burnside's division of the army of the Potomac, a certain photographer
came to the Executive Mansion to make some stereoscopic studies of the
President's office for Mr. Carpenter, who had been much about the house.
Mr. Carpenter and the photographer appeared at the same time. The
artists told Mr. Lincoln that they must have a dark closet in which to
develop their pictures. There was such a closet attached to the room
which Tad had appropriated for his theatre, and it could not be reached
without passing through the room.
With Mr. Lincoln's permission the artists took possession of the
"theatre," and they had taken several pictures before Tad discovered the
trespass upon his premises. When he took in the situation there was an
uproar. Their occupancy of his "theatre," without his consent, was an
offence that stirred his wrath into an instant blaze. The little fellow
declared indignantly that he would not submit to any such impudence. He
locked the door and carried off the key. The artists hunted him up, and
coaxed, remonstrated, and begged, but all in vain. The young theatre
manager, in a flame of passion, blamed Carpenter with the whole outrage.
He declared that they should neither use his room nor go into it to get
their instruments and chemicals. "No one," said he, "has any business in
my room, unless invited by me, and I never invited you." Here was a
pretty state of things. Tad was master of the situation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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