In the spring of 1862, the President spent several days at Fortress Monroe, awaiting military operations upon the Peninsula. As a portion of the Cabinet were with him, that was temporarily the seat of government, and he bore with him constantly the burden of public affairs. His favorite diversion was reading Shakspeare. One day (it chanced to be the day before the capture of Norfolk) as he sat reading alone, he called to his aide[4] in the adjoining room,--“You have been writing long enough, Colonel; come in here; I want to read you a passage in ‘Hamlet.’” He read the discussion on ambition between Hamlet and his courtiers, and the soliloquy, in which conscience debates of a future state. This was followed by passages from “Macbeth.” Then opening to “King John,” he read from the third act the passage in which Constance bewails her imprisoned, lost boy. Closing the book, and recalling the words,-- “And, father cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven: If that be true, I shall see my boy again,”-- Mr. Lincoln said: “Colonel, did you ever dream of a lost friend, and feel that you were holding sweet communion with that friend, and yet have a sad consciousness that it was not a reality?--just so I dream of my boy Willie.” Overcome with emotion, he dropped his head on the table, and sobbed aloud. XXXIX. William Wallace Lincoln, I never knew. He died Thursday, February 20th, 1862, nearly two years before my intercourse with the President commenced. He had just entered upon his twelfth year, and has been described to me as of an unusually serious and thoughtful disposition. His death was the most crushing affliction Mr. Lincoln had ever been called upon to pass through.