Lincoln in the Telegraph Room
During the challenging days of the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln found much-needed peace and solace among the telegraph operators as he managed the war from the telegraph room at the War Department (Century Magazine)
The following vignettes are from Lincoln in the Telegraph Room: Recollections of the United States Military Telegraph Corps during the Civil War by David homer Bates (1907).
LINCOLN IN THE TELEGRAPH OFFICE
When in the telegraph office, Lincoln was most easy of access. He often talked with the cipher-operators, asking questions regarding the despatches which we were translating from or into Lincoln’s habit was to go immediately to the drawer each time he came into our room, and read over the telegrams, beginning at the top, until he came to the one he had seen at his last previous visit. When this point was reached he almost always said, "Well, boys, I am down to raisins." After we had heard this curious remark a number of times, one of us ventured to ask him what it meant. He thereupon told us the story of the little girl who celebrated her birthday by eating very freely of many good things, topping off with raisins for dessert. During the night she was taken violently ill, and when the doctor arrived she was busy casting up her accounts. The genial doctor, scrutinizing the contents of the vessel, noticed some small black objects that had just appeared, and remarked to the anxious parent that all danger was past, as the child was "down to raisins." "So," Lincoln said, "when I reach the message in this pile which I saw on my last visit, I know that I need go no further."
In the White House, Lincoln had little or no leisure, but was constantly under a severe strain from which, as he often told us, he obtained welcome relief by his frequent visits to the telegraph office, which place was in fact his haven of rest, his Bethany. There only was he comparatively free from interruption and he would frequently remain for hours, and sometimes all night, awaiting news that might mean so much to the country, and in the intervals of waiting he would write messages of inquiry, counsel and encouragement to the generals in the field, to the governors of the loyal states and sometimes despatches announcing pardon or reprieve to soldiers under sentence of death for desertion or sleeping on post. He almost lived in the telegraph office when a battle was in progress, and on other occasions would drop in, as he sometimes jocosely remarked, to get rid of the pestering crowd of office-seekers.
At just 18 years old, David Homer Bates worked in the telegraph department of the Pennsylvania Railroad. When summoned by the future industrialist Andrew Carnegie, who was then a railroad superintendent, Bates was ordered to promptly report to Washington for telegraph work where he had the opportunity to view the president on a daily basis (LC)
PANIC IN THE CAPITAL, JULY 1861
On Sunday, July 21, when the battle of Bull Run was fought, the military telegraph line had reached Fairfax Courthouse, and an improvised office had been opened at that point. Communication with General McDowell’s headquarters at the front was maintained by means of a corps of mounted couriers, organized by Andrew Carnegie, under the immediate direction of William B. Wilson, who then served as our manager. These couriers passed back and forth all day long between Fairfax and the front. Lincoln hardly left his seat in our office and waited with deep anxiety for each succeeding dispatch. At times during the awful day, General Scott would confer with the President or Secretary Cameron for a short period, and then depart to put into effect some urgent measures for protecting the capital. Wilson says of these events: "The group was composed of President Lincoln, Secretaries Seward, Cameron, Chase, Welles, Attorney General Bates, General Mansfield, Colonels Townsend, Van Rensselaer, Hamilton and Wright of Lieutenant-General Scott's staff, and Colonel Thomas A. Scott. With maps of the field before them they watched, as it were, the conflict of arms as it progressed, at the same time keeping up a running desultory conversation."All the morning and well along into the afternoon, McDowell's telegrams were more or less encouraging, and Lincoln and his advisers waited with eager hope, believing that Beauregard was being pushed back to Manassas Junction; but all at once the dispatches ceased coming. At first this was taken to mean that McDowell was moving farther away from the telegraph, and then, as the silence became prolonged, a strange fear seized upon the assembled watchers that perhaps all was not well. Suddenly the telegraph instrument became alive again, and the short sentence, "Our army is retreating," was spelled out in the Morse characters. This brief announcement was followed by meager details concerning the first great disaster that had befallen our troops and the panic that followed. The crowded telegraph office was quickly deserted by all except the operators, but Lincoln returned at intervals until after midnight, and shortly afterward the outlying office at Fairfax Courthouse was abandoned. When morning dawned, our demoralized troops began to straggle, and then to pour, in an ever increasing stream of frightened humanity over Long Bridge into Washington, the immediate capture of which seemed then to be, and really was, within the power of the Confederate army, if only they had pressed their advantage. Consternation reigned supreme, and all realized that a great crisis of the war, the next after Sumter, was upon us. The dark clouds that settled at that time upon Lincoln's already wrinkled brow were destined never to lift their heavy weight, except for that all too brief period of exaltation, just before his tragic ending, when Grant had pushed Lee to Appomattox, and Richmond was at last in our hands. 
This 1844 telegraph key is believed to be from the first Baltimore-Washington telegraph line (National Museum of American History)
ANXIOUS DAYS IN AUGUST 1862
There were many times when Lincoln remained in the telegraph office till late at night, and occasionally all night long. One of these occasions was during Pope's short but disastrous campaign, ending in the second battle of Bull Run. Lincoln came to the War Department office several times on August 26, the first of those strenuous, anxious days, and after supper he came again, prepared to stay all night, if necessary, in order to receive the latest news from Pope, who was at the front, and from McClellan, who was at Alexandria. Hour after hour of the long night passed with no news from the front until just before dawn, when the following was received: August 27, 1862, 4:25 a.m. A. Lincoln, President: Intelligence received within twenty minutes informs me that the enemy are advancing and have crossed Bull Run bridge; if it is not destroyed, it probably will be. The forces sent by us last night held it until that time. H. Haupt.
Lincoln, who was still keeping vigil with the telegraph operators, at once penned this answer: August 27, 1862. Colonel Haupt: What became of our forces which held the bridge till twenty minutes ago, as you say? A. Lincoln.
Receiving no reply immediately, Lincoln telegraphed again: War Department, August 27, 1862. Colonel Haupt: Is the railroad bridge over Bull Run destroyed ? A. Lincoln
To this Colonel Haupt replied, the following day: August 28, 1862. President Lincoln: . . . Colonel Scammon held Bull Run Bridge a long time against a very superior force, retired at last in perfect order. H. Haupt.
During the next few days, Lincoln sent other brief messages of inquiry to Colonel Haupt, upon whom he, as well as Secretary Stanton and General Halleck, seemed to depend for early information far more than upon Pope or McClellan, as shown by the following additional telegrams: War Department, Aug. 28, 1862, 2:40 p.m. Col. Haupt: Yours received. How do you learn that the rebel forces at Manassas are large and commanded by several of their best generals? A. Lincoln.
August 28, 1862. President Lincoln: One of Colonel Scammon's surgeons was captured and released; he communicated the information. One of our firemen was captured and escaped; he confirms it and gives important details. General McClellan has just seen him. ... H. Haupt.
August 29, 1862. Colonel Haupt: What news from direction of Manassas Junction? What generally? A. Lincoln.
August 29, 1862. President Lincoln and General Halleck: General Pope was at Centreville this morning at six o'clock. Seemed to be in good spirits. H. Haupt.
August 30, 1862, 9:00 a.m. Colonel : What news? A.Lincoln.
August 30, 1862, 8:50 p.m. Colonel Haupt: Please send me the latest news. A. Lincoln.
August 30, 1862. A. Lincoln, President: Our operator has reached Manassas. Hears no firing of importance. . . . We have reestablished telegraphic communication with Manassas. . . . . . . Our telegraph operators and railway employees are entitled to great credit. They have been advanced pioneers, occupying the posts of danger; and the exploit of penetrating to Fairfax and bringing off the wounded when they supposed that 20,000 rebels were on their front and flanks, was one of the boldest performances I have ever heard of. H. Haupt.
August 31, 1862, 7:10 a.m. Colonel Haupt: What news ? Did you hear any firing this morning? A. Lincoln.
August 31, 1862. President Lincoln: No news received as yet this morning. Firing heard distinctly in direction of Bristoe at six o'clock. H. Haupt.
And so the anxious hours passed, with "Lincoln in the Telegraph Office" on the watch until it was known that for the second time our army had met defeat on the fatal field of Bull Run. “Suddenly the telegraph instrument became alive again, and the short sentence, “Our army is retreating,” was spelled out in the Morse characters”
GETTYSBURG AND VICKSBURG
Lee’s invasion of Maryland in June had greatly increased the anxiety felt by the President, especially as communication with our army was frequently interrupted. All the news we received dribbled over a single line of wire via Hagerstown; and when Meade's headquarters were pushed beyond that place through the necessity of following Lee's advance, we lost telegraphic connection altogether, only regaining it by the Hanover Junction route, a day or two later. From that point to Hanover there was a railroad wire. Thence to Gettysburg the line was on the turnpike, and the service was poor and desultory. Lincoln was in the telegraph office hour after hour during those anxious days and nights, until, on the morning of July 4, he penned his welcome announcement to the country that Meade had won a notable victory. However, as further news from the scene of action reached him Lincoln began to realize that Meade was likely to lose much of the fruit of his hard-earned victory by allowing Lee's army to escape across the Potomac. So he still kept close to the telegraph instrument during the succeeding days. But even after leaving the office his thoughts returned to it lest something should be left undone to insure decisive success, for at 7 p.m. on July 6 he sent a telegram from the Soldiers Home to General Halleck saying: "I left the telegraph office a good deal dissatisfied. . . . These things all appear to me to be connected with a purpose to . . . get the enemy across the river again without a further collision."
This wartime image shows the War Department, situated one block from the White House at 17th Street and Pennsylvania Avenue. The photograph is from Bate's Lincoln in the Telegraph Office and includes a Maltese cross marking the two windows where the telegraph operators worked, one on each side of the cross (Lincoln in the Telegraph Room)
When Lincoln came to the office the next morning, he received Grant's dispatch announcing the capture of Vicksburg with many thousand prisoners, and this welcome news coming so soon after Meade's victory at Gettysburg revived his spirits and led him eight days later to issue his second thanksgiving proclamation, naming August 6 as a "day for national thanksgiving, praise and prayer." Nevertheless, Lincoln's thoughts were still with Meade, and in his note to General Halleck stating that Vicksburg had surrendered he said:
". . . Now, if General Meade can complete his work so gloriously prosecuted thus far, by the literal or substantial destruction of Lee's army, the rebellion will be over."
Notwithstanding the urgency of the telegrams from Lincoln and Halleck, Meade did not seem disposed to hurry, but, finally, on July 12, his dispatch reached the War Department stating his "intention to attack the enemy tomorrow, unless something intervenes." My colleague, Chandler, relates that when this message was received by Lincoln, he paced the room wringing his hands and saying: "They will be ready to fight a magnificent battle when there is no enemy there to fight." Lee recrossed the Potomac that night, and Meade did not attack him, and on July 15, the very day on which the thanksgiving proclamation was issued, Lincoln wrote his historic despatch to ex- Secretary Cameron, then at Meade's headquarters, saying:
" . . . Please tell me, if you know, who was the one Corps Commander who was for fighting, in the council of war on Sunday night. "
Fascinated at a young age by the emerging technology of the telegraph, Thomas Eckert was an early operator with the Morse Telegraph Company. He was appointed a major to the staff of George McClellan during the Peninsular Campaign. In September 1862, he was assigned to the War Department, where he would personally get to know the president. During challenging days, Lincoln would spend hours monitoring the dispatches at Eckert's desk in the telegraph office.
LINCOLN’S KINDLY NATURE
General Eckert has recently told me the following incident which well illustrates Lincoln's kindly nature.
On his way to the telegraph office early one morning in April 1864, just before Grant started on the Wilderness Campaign, Lincoln observed in the hall a young woman who seemed to be in great distress. She carried a baby in her arms and was pacing to and fro and crying. The President asked Eckert to go out and see the woman and learn the cause of her trouble. This was done, the major reporting that the woman had come to Washington thinking she could get a pass to the front to enable her to visit her husband, and let him see his child, who had been born since the father enlisted ; but she had learned that she would not be allowed to go to the army.
Lincoln said, "Major, let's send her down."
Eckert replied that strict orders had been given to let women go to the front. Stanton, entering the office at the time and seeing the evident sympathy of Lincoln for the woman in her trouble, said, "Why not give her husband a leave of absence to allow him to see his wife in Washington?"
The President replied: "Well, come, let 's do that. Major, you write the message."
But Eckert said the order must be given officially, and Lincoln replied: "All right, Major; let Colonel Hardie (Assistant Adjutant-General) write the order and send it by telegraph, so the man can come right up."
Colonel Hardie wrote the message, which was telegraphed to the Army of the Potomac, and when the sorrowing woman was informed of what had been done, she came into the office to express her gratitude to the President. Lincoln then asked her where she was stopping. She said that she had not yet found a place, having come direct from the railroad station to the White House, and then to the War Department. Lincoln then directed Eckert to obtain an order from Colonel Hardie to allow the young mother and her baby to be taken care of in Carver Hospital until her husband arrived. This was done, and the soldier was allowed to remain with his wife and child for over a week before returning to his regiment. 
Extra Feature of Hardtack Illustrated