arched out of Jefferson Barracks for the Black Hawk War, was Meriwether Lewis Clark, now a graduate of West Point, and his cousin Robert Anderson, grandson of Clark's sister Eliza.
In the hurry and the heat of the march one day, Lieutenant Clark, riding from the rear back to the General, became enclosed by the troops of cavalry and had to ride slowly. By his side on a small horse he noticed a long-legged, dark-skinned soldier, with black hair hanging in clusters around his neck, a volunteer private. Admiringly the private gazed at Clark's fine new uniform and splendidly accoutred horse, a noble animal provided by his father at St. Louis.
Young Clark spoke to the soldier of awkward and unprepossessing appearance, whose witticisms and gift for stories kept his comrades in a state of merriment. He proved very inquisitive.
"The son of Governor Clark of the Lewis and Clark expedition, did you say?"
"Yes."
"And related to all those great people?"
"Yes," with a laugh.
They chatted until the ranks began to thin.
"I must ride on," but feeling an interest in the lank, long-haired soldier, Lieutenant Clark turned again,—
"Where are you from and to what troop do you belong?"
"I am an Illinois volunteer."
"Well, now, tell me your name, and I will bid you good bye."
"My name is Abraham Lincoln, and I have not a relation in the world."
The next time they met, Meriwether Lewis Clark was marching through the streets of Washington City with other prisoners in Lee's surrendered army. And the President on the White House steps was Abraham Lincoln. The cousin of Meriwether Lewis Clark, Robert Anderson, hero of Fort Sumter, stood by Lincoln's side, with tears in his eyes.
Weeks before, when the land was ringing
