George Saunders: Lincoln in the Bardo

In “My Ten Years at the White House,” by Elliot Sternlet.

A century and a half has passed, and yet it still seems intrusive to dwell upon that horrible scene — the shock, the querulous disbelief, the savage cries of sorrow.

Epstein, op. cit.

It was only just at bedtime, when the boy would normally present himself for some talk or roughhousing, that Mr. Lincoln seemed truly mindful of the irreversibility of the loss.

In “Selected Memories from a Life of Service,” by Stanley Hohner.

Around midnight I entered to ask if I could bring him something. The sight of him shocked me. His hair was wild, his face pale, with signs of recent tears plainly evident. I marveled at his agitated manner and wondered what might be the outcome if he did not find some relief. I had recently been to visit an iron-works in the state of Pennsylvania, where a steam-release valve had been demonstrated to me; the President’s state put me in mind of the necessity of such an apparatus.

Hilyard, op. cit., account of D. Strumphort, butler.

The unkempt gentleman was fussing over the small form now, stroking the hair, patting and rearranging the pale, doll-like hands.

roger bevins iii

As the lad stood nearby, uttering many urgent entreaties for his father to look his way, fuss over and pat him.

the reverend everly thomas

Which the gentleman appeared not to hear.

roger bevins iii

Then this already troubling and unseemly display descended to a new level of—

hans vollman

We heard an intake of breath from the Reverend, who, appearance notwithstanding, is not easily shocked.

roger bevins iii

He is going to pick that child up, the Reverend said.

hans vollman

And so he did.

The man lifted the tiny form out of the—

roger bevins iii

Sick-box.

hans vollman

The man bent, lifted the tiny form from the box, and, with surprising grace for one so ill-made, sat all at once on the floor, gathering it into his lap.

roger bevins iii

Sinking his head into the place between chin and neck, the gentleman sobbed, raggedly at first, then unreservedly, giving full vent to his emotions.

the reverend everly thomas

While the lad darted back and forth nearby, in an apparent agony of frustration.

hans vollman

For nearly ten minutes the man held the—

roger bevins iii

Sick-form.

hans vollman

The boy, frustrated at being denied the attention he felt he deserved, moved in and leaned against his father, as the father continued to hold and gently rock the—

the reverend everly thomas

Sick-form.

hans vollman

At one point, moved, I turned away from the scene and found we were not alone.

roger bevins iii

A crowd had gathered outside.

the reverend everly thomas

All were silent.

roger bevins iii

As the man continued to gently rock his child.

the reverend everly thomas

While his child, simultaneously, stood quietly leaning against him.

hans vollman

Then the gentleman began to speak.

roger bevins iii

The lad threw one arm familiarly around his father’s neck, as he must often have done, and drew himself in closer, until his head was touching his father’s head, the better to hear the words the man was whispering into the neck of the—

hans vollman

His frustration then becoming unbearable, the boy began to—

roger bevins iii

The lad began to enter himself.

hans vollman

As it were.

roger bevins iii

The boy began to enter himself; had soon entered himself entirely, and at this, the man began sobbing anew, as if he could feel the altered condition of that which he held.

the reverend everly thomas

It was all too much, too private, and I left that place, and walked alone.

hans vollman

As did I.

roger bevins iii

I lingered there, transfixed, uttering many prayers.

the reverend everly thomas

Mouth at the worm’s ear, Father said:

We have loved each other well, dear Willie, but now, for reasons we cannot understand, that bond has been broken. But our bond can never be broken. As long as I live, you will always be with me, child.

Then let out a sob

Dear Father crying That was hard to see And no matter how I patted & kissed & made to console, it did no

You were a joy, he said. Please know that. Know that you were a joy. To us. Every minute, every season, you were a — you did a good job. A good job of being a pleasure to know.

Saying all this to the worm! How I wished him to say it to me And to feel his eyes on me So I thought, all right, by Jim, I will get him to see me And in I went It was no bother at all Say, it felt all right Like I somewhat belonged in

In there, held so tight, I was now partly also in Father

And could know exactly what he was

Could feel the way his long legs lay How it is to have a beard Taste coffee in the mouth and, though not thinking in words exactly, knew that the feel of him in my arms has done me good. It has. Is this wrong? Unholy? No, no, he is mine, he is ours, and therefore I must be, in that sense, a god in this; where he is concerned I may decide what is best. And I believe this has done me good. I remember him. Again. Who he was. I had forgotten somewhat already. But here: his exact proportions, his suit smelling of him still, his forelock between my fingers, the heft of him familiar from when he would fall asleep in the parlor and I would carry him up to—

It has done me good.

I believe it has.

It is secret. A bit of secret weakness, that shores me up; in shoring me up, it makes it more likely that I shall do my duty in other matters; it hastens the end of this period of weakness; it harms no one; therefore, it is not wrong, and I shall take away from here this resolve: I may return as often as I like, telling no one, accepting whatever help it may bring me, until it helps me no more.

Then Father touched his head to mine.

Dear boy, he said, I will come again. That is a promise.

willie lincoln

After perhaps thirty minutes the unkempt man left the white stone home and stumbled away into the darkness.

Entering, I found the boy sitting in one corner.

My father, he said.

Yes, I said.

He said he will come again, he said. He promised.

I found myself immeasurably and inexplicably moved.

A miracle, I said.

the reverend everly thomas

At approximately one a.m. tonight per this report Pres Lincoln arrived at front gate requesting he be allowed to enter same accordingly and not knowing what else to do given his position which is President not an inconsiderable position for him to have or anyone I did allow him entry even though as you know Tom protocol states once gate locked is not to be unlocked until such time as unlocking is scheduled to wit morning but since it was Pres himself asking was a bit of a horned dilemma staring in my face and also I was somewhat groggy it being late as mentioned above and having given myself over yesterday to some fun in the park with my own children Philip Mary & Jack Jr. thereby being somewhat tired and I admit dozing a bit at your desk Tom. Did not question Pres as to what was he doing here or something like that only when our eyes met he gave me such a frank friendly somewhat pained look as if to say well friend this is rather odd I know it but with eyes so needful I could not refuse him as his boy is just today interred so you might well imagine how you or I might act or feel in a similar sad spot Tom if yr Mitchell or my Philip Mary or Jack Jr. was to expire well no use thinking of that.