The letter of Surgeon Chapel, who had charge of the “West’s Buildings Hospital,” Baltimore, to which many of our soldiers were sent, on returning from Southern prisons, caused him to weep, as if the sufferers were members of his own family. The letter was addressed to the Chairman of the Congressional Committee, and was as follows:—

“Dear Sir,—I have the honour to enclose the photograph of John Breiring, with the desired information written upon it. I am very sorry your committee could not have seen these cases when first received. No one, from these pictures, can form a true estimate of their condition then; not one in ten was able to stand alone; some of them so covered and eaten by vermin that they nearly resembled cases of small- pox, and so emaciated that they were really living skeletons, and hardly that, as the result shows,—forty out of one hundred and four having died up to this date. If there has been anything so horrible, so fiendish, as this wholesale starvation, in the history of this satanic Rebellion, I have failed to note it. Better the massacres of Lawrence, Fort Pillow, and Plymouth, than to be thus starved to death by inches, through long and weary months.”

Mr. Lincoln could not consent to the starvation of rebel prisoners, nor to any approximation to cruel treatment. Retaliation must take some other form, or he would not endorse it. His real sympathy with soldiers, in their hardships and perils, extended even to rebel prisoners in our hands. At Frederick, Md., he visited a house in which there were a large number of Confederate wounded men. After viewing the scene, he said to them:—

“I should be pleased to take you all by the hand, if you have no objections. The solemn obligations which we owe to our country and posterity compel the prosecution of this war. Many of you, no doubt, occupy the attitude of enemies through uncontrollable circumstances. I bear no malice toward you, and can take you by the hand with sympathy and good feeling.”

There was hesitation at first, but it was soon broken, and the Confederates stepped forward to shake the President’s hand. Some of the number were too badly wounded to rise; Mr. Lincoln approached them, and, taking each one by the hand in turn, remarked,—

“Be of good cheer, boys, and the end will be well. The best of care shall be taken of you.”

It was a touching scene, and there were few dry eyes present. Many of the Confederates wept. It was evidently unexpected treatment to them. This was the kind of retaliation in which President Lincoln fully believed. It caused him unpleasantness and pain to be compelled to depart from it. He heartily enjoyed such a scene as was described to him after the battle of Antietam.

One of the agents of the Christian Commission found several wounded Confederate soldiers in a barnyard, deserted by their surgeons, and no one near to help them. They had been lying there with the dead for three days, without food or drink. The agent hurried food to them as soon as possible, and, with others, was proceeding to wash them, when one of the number, from whose feet he was pulling his dirty stockings, began to cry violently.

“What’s the matter? Do I hurt you?” inquired the agent.

“No, you don’t,” sobbed the man.

“What, then, can be the matter? Really, I can’t go on with my work unless you tell me what is the matter.”

“Matter enough,” ejaculated the Confederate. “You call us rebels, and I suppose we are; for I fought against the old flag; but, when we are wounded, you come to us here, not like angels, but like the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, washing our feet; and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it!”

Such treatment of enemies just suited Mr. Lincoln. The rehearsal of that single incident made him happy for a whole day.