Anyone who questioned my ability to guard President Lincoln didn't know me. At 6'4" and 260 pounds, my usual arsenal of weapons included two Cold .44 pistols, two Bowie knives, a set of brass knuckles, a black jack and a sword in the handle of my cane. My fists were also weapons that I used frequently.
My weaknesses were hard luck stories, being too generous and extravagent, and lack of foresight. I always lived in the present. I told my daughter Dollie "not to be afraid of anything except smallpox and cats -- and that I could smell a cat in a room."
I recently had a incident in a dark alley in Washington City where I tried to arrest a man involved in a fight. The participants were told to stop that I was a federal police officcer. I showed my badge. One man stopped the other didn't. I told him three times he was under arrest. He came forward. I punched him in the facewith my fist. He was taken away by the medics. he never regained consciousness and later died.
I told Mr. Lincoln that I felt badly at how the event went down. He asked if I identied myself and showed my badge. I told him I had done both. The president told me next time to pick up a stick and use that, as it may not have hurt as much as the blow delivered by my fist.
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