Lincoln Page #4

table, eight chairs around it, settings by each chair of

inkwells and pens.

Dozens of maps cover the walls and the crowded bookcases.

Lincoln opens the door and enters to find his 10 year-old son

TAD LINCOLN near the hearth, sleeping, sprawled on a very

large military map. Lead toy soldiers are scattered across

it.

A large mahogany box, imprinted ALEXANDER GARDNER STUDIOS,

is open near Tad's head. The box contains large glass plates,

each framed in wood; these are photographic negatives. Tad's

been looking at several, which lie near him on the map.

11.

Lincoln kneels by Tad and looks down at the map, a

topographical and strategic survey of the no-man's land

between Union and Confederate forces at Petersburg. He

scrutinizes the precisely drawn blue and grey lines.

He lifts one of the glass plates and holds it to the

firelight:
it's a large photographic negative of a young

black boy. There's a caption, in elegant cursive script:

"Abner, age 12 - $500"

And another:
"Two young boys, 10 & 14 - $700"

Lincoln puts the plates back in the box and closes the lid.

Carefully brushing the toy soldiers aside, he lies down

beside Tad. He touches Tad's hair and kisses his forehead.

Tad stirs as Lincoln gets on all fours; without really waking

up, knowing the routine, Tad climbs onto his father's back.

Tad holds on as his father stands, weary, and maybe a little

surprised to find his growing son slightly heavier than he

was the night before.

TAD:

(FAST ASLEEP:
)

Papa...

LINCOLN:

Hmm?

TAD:

Papa I wanna see Willie.

LINCOLN:

(WHISPERING:
)

Me too, Taddie. But we can't.

TAD:

Why not?

LINCOLN:

Willie's gone. Three years now.

He's gone.

Lincoln carries Tad out of the room, closing the door.

EXT. OUTSIDE THE TREASURY DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON - MORNING

A new flagpole is being dedicated. Lincoln, in a black

overcoat and his stovepipe hat, and Treasury Secretary

WILLIAM FESSENDEN, 59, stand by the pole. They face an

audience of officials, clerks, dignitaries, wives, soldiers.

A Marine band finishes a jaunty instrumental rendition of "We

Are Coming Father Abra'am."

12.

Two soldiers fasten a flag to the halyards. Lincoln moves

into place; as the crowd applauds, he takes a sheet of paper

from inside his hat and glances at it. Then he looks up.

LINCOLN:

The part assigned to me is to raise

the flag, which, if there be no

fault in the machinery, I will do,

and when up, it will be for the

people to keep it up.

He puts the paper away. The audience waits, expecting more.

LINCOLN (CONT'D)

That's my speech.

He smiles at them. They applaud, some laughing. As Lincoln

turns the crank, hoisting the flag, a solo trumpet plays "We

Are Coming Father Abra'am" and the audience joins in. Among

them, Secretary of State WILLIAM SEWARD, 64, in a thick,

exquisite winter coat and hat, and Lincoln's dapper assistant

secretary, JOHN HAY, 27. Seward looks pleased.

AUDIENCE:

"We are coming, Father Abra'am,

three hundred thousand more,

From Mississippi's winding stream

and from New England's shore..."

We leave our plows and workshops,

our wives and children dear,

With hearts too full for utterance,

With but a silent tear.

We're coming Father Abra'am..."

EXT. A CARRIAGE, PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, WASHINGTON - MORNING

In a four-door carriage, top down, Seward sits opposite

Lincoln. Hay, next to Seward, organizes papers in a portfolio

on his lap.

SEWARD:

Even if every Republican in the

House votes yes - far from

guaranteed, since when has our

party unanimously supported

anything? - but say all our fellow

Republicans vote for it. We'd still

be twenty votes short.

LINCOLN:

Only twenty.

13.

SEWARD:

Only twenty!

LINCOLN:

We can find twenty votes.

SEWARD:

Twenty House Democrats who'll vote

to abolish slavery! In my opinion -

LINCOLN:

To which I always listen.

SEWARD:

Or pretend to.

LINCOLN:

With all three of my ears.

SEWARD:

We'll win the war soon - It's

inevitable, isn't it?

LINCOLN:

Ain't won yit.

SEWARD:

You'll begin your second term with

semi-divine stature. Imagine the

possibilities peace will bring!

Why tarnish your invaluable luster

with a battle in the House? It's a

rats' nest in there, the same gang

of talentless hicks and hacks that

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