In June, 1842, ex-President Van Buren was journeying through Illinois
with a company of friends. When near Springfield they were delayed by
bad roads, and were compelled to spend the night at Rochester, some
miles out. The accommodations at this place were very poor, and a few of
the ex-President's Springfield friends proposed to go out to meet him
and try to aid in entertaining him. Knowing Lincoln's ability as a
talker and story-teller, they begged him to go with them and aid in
making their guest at the country inn pass the evening as pleasantly as
possible. Lincoln, with his usual good nature, went with them, and
entertained the party for hours with graphic descriptions of Western
life, anecdotes and witty stories. Judge Peck, who was of the party, and
a warm friend of the ex-President, says that Lincoln was at his best.
There was a constant succession of brilliant anecdotes and funny
stories, accompanied by loud laughter in which Van Buren took his full
share. "He also," says the Judge, "gave us incidents and anecdotes of
Elisha Williams, and other leading members of the New York bar, going
back to the days of Hamilton and Burr. Altogether there was a right
merry time. Mr. Van Buren said the only drawback upon his enjoyment was
that his sides were sore from laughing at Lincoln's stories for a week
thereafter."
Lincoln's eight years of legislative service had given him considerable
reputation in politics, and he had become the acknowledged leader of the
Whig party in Illinois. In the exciting Presidential campaign of 1840,
known as the "Log Cabin" campaign, he took a very active part. He had
been nominated as Presidential Elector on the Harrison ticket, and
stumped a large portion of the State. A peculiarly interesting
reminiscence of Lincoln's appearance on one occasion during the "Log
Cabin" campaign is furnished by Mr. G.W. Harris, who says: "In the fall
of the year 1840 there came into the log school-house in a village in
Southern Illinois where I, a lad, was a pupil, a tall, awkward,
plain-looking young man dressed in a full suit of 'blue jean.'
Approaching the master, he gave his name, and, apologizing for the
intrusion, said, 'I am told you have a copy of Byron's works. I would
like to borrow it for a few hours.' The book was produced and loaned to
him. With his thanks and a 'Good-day' to the teacher, and a smile such
as I have never seen on any other man's face and a look that took in all
of us lads and lassies, the stranger passed out of the room. This was
during a Presidential canvass. Isaac Walker, candidate for Democratic
Elector, and Abraham Lincoln, candidate for Whig Elector, were by
appointment to discuss political matters in the afternoon of that day. I
asked for and got a half-holiday. I had given no thought to the matter
until the appearance of Lincoln (for he it was) in the school-room. But,
something in the man had aroused, not only in me but in others of the
scholars, a strong desire to see him again and to hear him speak. Isaac
Walker in his younger days had been a resident of the village. Lincoln
was aware of this, and shrewdly suspected that Walker in his remarks
would allude to the circumstance; so, having the opening speech, he
determined to 'take the wind out of his sails.' He did so--how
effectually, it is hardly necessary for me to say. He had borrowed
Byron's works to read the opening lines of 'Lara':
"He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord,
The long self-exiled chieftain, is restored.
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
* * * * *
"He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
And whence they know not, why they need not guess;
They more might marvel, when the greeting's o'er,
Not that he came, but came not long before."
During this period Lincoln continued to enjoy the hospitality of Mr.
Speed at Springfield. "After he made his home with me," says Mr. Speed,
"on every winter's night at my store, by a big wood fire, no matter how
inclement the weather, eight or ten choice spirits assembled, without
distinction of party. It was a sort of social club without organization.
They came there because they were sure to find Lincoln. His habit was to
engage in conversation upon any and all subjects except politics. But
one evening a political argument sprang up between Lincoln and Douglas,
which for a time ran high. Douglas sprang to his feet and said:
'Gentlemen, this is no place to talk politics; we will discuss the
questions publicly with you.'" A few days later the Whigs held a meeting
and challenged the Democrats to a joint debate. The challenge was
accepted. Douglas, Lamborn, Calhoun, and Jesse Thomas were deputed by
the Democrats to meet Logan, Baker, Browning, and Lincoln on the part of
the Whigs. The intellectual encounter between these noted champions is
still described by those who witnessed it as "the great debate." It took
place in the Second Presbyterian church at Springfield, and lasted eight
nights, each speaker occupying a night in turn. Mr. Speed speaks thus of
Lincoln's effort: "Lincoln delivered his speech without manuscript or
notes. He had a wonderful faculty in that way. He might be writing an
important document, be interrupted in the midst of a sentence, turn his
attention to other matters entirely foreign to the subject on which he
was engaged, and then take up his pen and begin where he left off
without reading the previous part of the sentence. He could grasp,
exhaust, and quit any subject with more facility than any man I have
ever seen or heard of." The subjoined paragraphs from the speech above
referred to show the impassioned feeling which Lincoln poured forth that
night. Those familiar with his admirable style in his later years would
scarcely recognize him in these florid and rather over-weighted periods:
Many free countries have lost their liberty, and ours may lose
hers; but if she shall, be it my proudest plume, not that I was
the last to desert, but that I never deserted her. I know that the
great volcano at Washington, aroused and directed by the evil
spirit that reigns there, is belching forth the lava of political
corruption in a current broad and deep, which is sweeping with
frightful velocity over the whole length and breadth of the land,
bidding fair to leave unscathed no green spot or living thing;
while on its bosom are riding, like demons on the waves of hell,
the imps of the Evil Spirit, and fiendishly torturing and taunting
all those who dare resist its destroying course with the
hopelessness of their effort; and knowing this, I cannot deny that
all may be swept away. Broken by it, I too may be; bow to it, I
never will. The probability that we may fall in the struggle ought
not to deter us from the support of a cause which we deem to be
just. It shall not deter me. If I ever feel the soul within me
elevate and expand to those dimensions not wholly unworthy of its
Almighty architect, it is when I contemplate the cause of my
country deserted by all the world beside, and I, standing up boldly
and alone, hurling defiance at her victorious oppressors. And here,
without contemplating consequences, before high Heaven and in the
face of the whole world, I swear eternal fidelity to the just
cause, as I deem it, of the land of my life, my liberty, and my
love. And who that thinks with me will not fearlessly adopt the
oath I take? Let none falter who thinks he is right, and we may
succeed. But if, after all, we shall fail, be it so. We shall have
the proud consolation of saying to our conscience and to the
departed shade of our country's freedom, that the cause approved by
our judgments and adored by our hearts in disaster, in chains, in
torture, and in death, we never failed in defending.
In this canvass Lincoln came again into collision with Douglas, the
adversary whom he had met two years before and with whom he was to
sustain an almost life-long political conflict. He also had occasion to
show his courage and presence of mind in rescuing from a mob his
distinguished friend, Col. E.D. Baker, afterwards a Senator of the
United States. "Baker was speaking in a large room," says Mr. Arnold,
"rented and used for the court sessions, and Lincoln's office was in an
apartment over the court-room, communicating with it by a trap-door.
Lincoln was in his office listening to Baker through the open trap-door,
when Baker, becoming excited, abused the Democrats, many of whom were
present. A cry was raised, 'Pull him off the stand!' The instant Lincoln
heard the cry, knowing a general fight was imminent, his athletic form
was seen descending from above through the opening of the trap-door,
and, springing to the side of Baker, and waving his hand for silence, he
said with dignity: 'Gentlemen, let us not disgrace the age and country
in which we live. This is a land where freedom of speech is guaranteed.
Baker has a right to speak. I am here to protect him, and no man shall
take him from this stand if I can prevent it.' Quiet was restored, and
Baker finished his speech without further interruption."
A similar occurrence, happening about the same period, is detailed by
General Linder: "On a later occasion, when Colonel Baker and myself were
both battling together in the Whig cause, at a convention held in
Springfield, I made a speech at the State House, which I think now,
looking back at it from this point, was the very best I ever made in my
life. While I was addressing the vast assembly some ruffian in the
galleries flung at me a gross personal insult accompanied with a threat.
Lincoln and Colonel Baker, who were both present and were warm personal
and political friends of mine, anticipating that I might be attacked
when I left the State House, came upon the stand a little while before I
concluded my speech and took their station on each side of me. When I
was through, and after my audience had greeted me with three hearty
cheers, each took one of my arms, and Lincoln said to me: 'Linder, Baker
and I are apprehensive that you may be attacked by some of those
ruffians who insulted you from the galleries, and we have come up to
escort you to your hotel. We both think we can do a little fighting, so
we want you to walk between us until we get you to your hotel. Your
quarrel is our quarrel and that of the great Whig party of this nation.
Your speech upon this occasion is the greatest that has been made by any
of us, for which we wish to honor and defend you.' This I consider no
ordinary compliment, coming from Lincoln, for he was no flatterer nor
disposed to bestow praise where it was undeserved. Colonel Baker
heartily concurred in all he said, and between those two glorious men I
left the stand and we marched out of the State House through our
friends, who trooped after us evidently anticipating what Lincoln and
Baker had suggested to me, accompanying us to my hotel."
That Lincoln had an abundance of physical courage, and was well able to
defend himself when necessity demanded, is clear from the incidents just
given. Mr. Herndon, his intimate friend, adds his testimony on this
point. As Lincoln was grand in his good nature, says Mr. Herndon, so he
was grand in his rage. "Once I saw him incensed at a judge for giving an
unfair decision. It was a terrible spectacle. At another time I saw two
men come to blows in his presence. He picked them up separately and
tossed them apart like a couple of kittens. He was the strongest man I
ever knew, and has been known to lift a man of his own weight and throw
him over a worm fence. Once in Springfield the Irish voters meditated
taking possession of the polls. News came down the street that they
would permit nobody to vote but those of their own party. Mr. Lincoln
seized an axe-handle from a hardware store and went alone to open a way
to the ballot-box. His appearance intimidated them, and we had neither
threats nor collisions all that day."
An unsuspected side of Lincoln's character was shown, at this period of
his life, in the affair with General Shields. With all his gentleness
and his scrupulous regard for the rights of others, Lincoln was not one
to submit to being bullied; while his physical courage had been proved
in many a rough--and--tumble encounter, often against heavy odds, with
the rude and boisterous spirits of his time. These encounters were
usually with nature's weapons; but in the Shields affair--duel, it was
sometimes called--he showed that he would not shrink from the use of
more deadly weapons if forced to do so. In judging this phase of his
character, account must be taken of his Kentucky birth and origin, and
of the customs and standards of his time. James Shields (afterwards a
distinguished Union General and U.S. Senator) was at this time (1842)
living at Springfield, holding the office of State Auditor. He is
described as "a gallant, hot-headed bachelor, from Tyrone County,
Ireland." He was something of a beau in society, and was the subject of
some satirical articles which, in a spirit of fun, Miss Mary Todd
(afterwards Mrs. Lincoln) had written and published in a local journal.
Shields was furious, and, demanding the name of the writer, Lincoln sent
him word that he would assume full responsibility in the matter. A
challenge to a duel followed, which Lincoln accepted and named
broadswords as the weapons. General Linder states that Lincoln said to
him that he did not want to kill Shields, and felt sure he could disarm
him if they fought with broadswords, while he felt sure Shields would
kill him if pistols were the weapons. It seems that Lincoln actually
took lessons in broadsword exercise from a Major Duncan; and at the
appointed time all parties proceeded to the chosen field, near Alton.
But friends appeared on the scene while the preliminaries were being
arranged, and succeeded in effecting a reconciliation. Major Lucas, of
Springfield, who was on the field, stated that he "had no doubt Lincoln
meant to fight. Lincoln was no coward, and he would unquestionably have
held his own against his antagonist, for he was a powerful man and well
skilled in the use of the broadsword. Lincoln said to me, after the
affair was all over, 'I could have split him in two.'" But there can be
little doubt that he was well pleased that the affair proved a
bloodless one.
The mention of Miss Mary Todd, in the preceding paragraph, brings us to
Lincoln's marriage with that lady, which occurred in 1842, he being then
in his thirty--fourth year. Miss Todd was the daughter of the Hon.
Robert T. Todd, of Lexington, Kentucky. She came to Springfield in 1839,
to live with her sister, Mrs. Ninian W. Edwards. "She was young," says
Mr. Lamon, "just twenty-one,--her family was of the best and her
connections in Illinois among the most refined and distinguished people.
Her mother having died when she was a little girl, she had been educated
under the care of a French lady. She was gifted with rare talents, had a
keen sense of the ridiculous, a ready insight into the weaknesses of
individual character, and a most fiery and ungovernable temper. Her
tongue and her pen were equally sharp. Highbred, proud, brilliant,
witty, and with a will that bent every one else to her purpose, she took
Lincoln captive. He was a rising politician, fresh from the people, and
possessed of great power among them. Miss Todd was of aristocratic and
distinguished family, able to lead through the awful portals of 'good
society' whomsoever they chose to countenance. It was thought that a
union between them could not fail of numerous benefits to both parties.
Mr. Edwards thought so; Mrs. Edwards thought so; and it was not long
before Mary Todd herself thought so. She was very ambitious, and even
before she left Kentucky announced her belief that she was destined to
be the wife of some future President. For a while she was courted by
Douglas as well as by Lincoln. Being asked which of them she intended to
have, she answered, 'The one that has the best chance of being
President.' She decided in favor of Lincoln; and in the opinion of some
of her husband's friends she aided to no small extent in the fulfilment
of the prophecy which the bestowal of her hand implied." Mrs. Edwards,
Miss Todd's sister, has related that "Lincoln was charmed with Mary's
wit and fascinated with her quick sagacity, her will, her nature and
culture. I have happened in the room," she says, "where they were
sitting, often and often, and Mary led the conversation. Lincoln would
listen, and gaze on her as if drawn by some superior power--irresistibly
so. He listened, but seldom said a word."
Preparations were made for the marriage between Lincoln and Miss Todd.
But they were interrupted by a painful occurrence--a sudden breaking out
of a fit of melancholy, or temporary insanity, such as had afflicted
Lincoln on a former occasion. This event has been made the subject of no
little gossip, into which it is not now necessary or desirable to go,
further than to mention that at about this time Lincoln seems to have
formed a strong attachment for Miss Matilda Edwards, a sister of Ninian
W. Edwards; and that the engagement with Miss Todd was for a time broken
off. In consequence of these complications, Lincoln's health was
seriously affected. He suffered from melancholy, which was so profound
that "his friends were alarmed for his life." His intimate companion,
Mr. Speed, endeavored to rescue him from the terrible depression, urging
that he would die unless he rallied. Lincoln replied, "I am not afraid
to die, and would be more than willing. But I have an irrepressible
desire to live till I can be assured that the world is a little better
for my having been in it."
Mr. Herndon gives as his opinion that Lincoln's insanity grew out of a
most extraordinary complication of feelings--aversion to the marriage
proposed, a counter--attachment to Miss Edwards, and a revival of his
tenderness for the memory of Anne Rutledge. At all events, his
derangement was nearly if not quite complete. "We had to remove razors
from his room," says Mr. Speed, "take away all knives, and other
dangerous things. It was terrible." Mr. Speed determined to do for him
what Bowlin Greene had done on a similar occasion at New Salem. Having
sold out his store on the first of January,
1841, he took Lincoln with him to his home in Kentucky and kept him
there during most of the summer and fall, or until he seemed
sufficiently restored to be given his liberty again, when he was brought
back to Springfield. His health was soon regained, and on the 4th of
November, 1842, the marriage between him and Miss Todd was celebrated
according to the rites of the Episcopal Church. After the marriage
Lincoln secured pleasant rooms for himself and wife at the Globe Tavern,
at a cost of four dollars a week. In 1844 he purchased of the Rev.
Nathan Dressar the plain dwelling which was his home for the ensuing
seventeen years, and which he left in 1861 to enter the White House.
CHAPTER VI
Lincoln in National Politics--His Congressional
Aspirations--Law-Partnership of Lincoln and Herndon--The
Presidential Campaign of 1844--Visit to Henry Clay--Lincoln Elected
to Congress--Congressional Reputation--Acquaintance with
Distinguished Men--First Speech in Congress--"Getting the Hang" of
the House--Lincoln's Course on the Mexican War--Notable Speech in
Congress--Ridicule of General Cass--Bill for the Abolition of
Slavery--Delegate to the Whig National Convention of 1848--Stumping
the Country for Taylor--Advice to Young Politicians--"Old Abe"--A
Political Disappointment--Lincoln's Appearance as an Office Seeker
in Washington--"A Divinity that Shapes our Ends."
In the spring of 1843 Lincoln was among the nominees proposed to
represent the Sangamon district in Congress; but Col. Edward D. Baker
carried the delegation, and was elected. In writing to his friend Speed,
Lincoln treated the circumstance with his usual humor. "We had," he
says, "a meeting of the Whigs of the county here last Monday to appoint
delegates to a district convention. Baker beat me, and got the
delegation instructed to go for him. The meeting, in spite of my attempt
to decline it, appointed me one of the delegates; so that in getting
Baker the nomination I shall be 'fixed' a good deal like a fellow who is
made groomsman to the man who 'cut him out' and is marrying his own
girl."
On the 20th of September, 1843, the partnership between Lincoln and
Judge Logan was dissolved; and the same day a new association was formed
with William H. Herndon, a relative of one of Lincoln's former friends
of Clary Grove. It is said that in spite of their close friendship Mr.
Herndon could not understand it when Lincoln one day plunged up the
office stairs and said, "Herndon, should you like to be my partner?"
"Don't laugh at me, Mr. Lincoln," was the response. Persistent
repetition of the question could hardly gain a hearing; but at last Mr.
Herndon said: "Mr. Lincoln, you know I am too young, and I have no
standing and no money; but if you are in earnest, there is nothing in
this world that would make me so happy." Nothing more was said till the
papers were brought to Herndon to sign. The partnership of "Lincoln &
Herndon" was a happy one, and continued until Lincoln became President,
a period of nearly eighteen years.
The life of Henry Clay, which Lincoln read in his boyhood, had filled
him with enthusiasm for the great Whig leader; and when the latter was
nominated for the Presidency, in 1844, there was no more earnest
adherent of his cause than the "Sangamon Chief," as Lincoln was now
called. Lincoln canvassed Illinois and a part of Indiana during the
campaign, meeting the chief Democratic speakers, and especially Douglas,
in debate. Lincoln had not at this time heard the "silvery-tongued
orator" of Kentucky; but two years later the opportunity was afforded
and eagerly embraced. It is possible, as Dr. Holland remarks, that he
"needed the influence of this visit to restore a healthy tone to his
feelings, and to teach him that the person whom his imagination had
transformed into a demigod was only a man, possessing the full measure
of weaknesses common to men. In 1846 Lincoln learned that Clay was to
deliver a speech at Lexington, Kentucky, in favor of gradual
emancipation. This event seemed to give him an excuse for breaking away
from his business and satisfying his desire to look his demigod in the
face and hear the music of his eloquence. He accordingly went to
Lexington, and arrived there in time to attend the meeting. On returning
to his home from this visit he did not attempt to disguise his
disappointment. Clay's speech was written and read; it lacked entirely
the fire and eloquence which Lincoln had anticipated. At the close of
the meeting Lincoln secured an introduction to the great orator and as
Clay knew what a friend Lincoln had been to him, he invited his admirer
and partisan to Ashland. No invitation could have delighted Lincoln
more. But the result of his private intercourse with Clay was no more
satisfactory than that which followed the speech. Those who have known
both men will not wonder at this; for two men could hardly be more
unlike in their motives and manners than the two thus brought together.
One was a proud man; the other was a humble man. One was princely in his
bearing; the other was lowly. One was distant and dignified; the other
was as simple and approachable as a child. One received the deference of
men as his due; the other received it with an uncomfortable sense of his
unworthiness. A friend of Lincoln, who had a long conversation with him
after his return from Ashland, found that his old enthusiasm was gone.
Lincoln said that though Clay was polished in his manners, and very
hospitable, he betrayed a consciousness of superiority that none could
mistake."
For two years after the Presidential contest between Clay and Polk,
Lincoln devoted himself assiduously to his law practice. But in 1846 he
was again active in politics, this time striving for a seat in the
National Congress. His chief opponent among the Whig candidates was his
old friend John J. Hardin, who soon withdrew from the contest, leaving
Mr. Lincoln alone in the field. The candidate on the Democratic ticket
was Peter Cartwright, the famous Methodist preacher. It was supposed
from his great popularity as a pulpit orator that Mr. Cartwright would
run far ahead of his ticket. Instead of this, Lincoln received a
majority of 1,511 in his district, which in 1844 had given Clay a
majority of only 914 and in 1848 had allowed the Whig candidate for
Congress to be defeated by 106 votes.
Lincoln took his seat in the Thirtieth Congress in December, 1847, the
only Whig member from Illinois. Among the notable members of this
Congress were ex-president John Quincy Adams; Andrew Johnson, elected
Vice-President with Lincoln on his second election; A.H. Stephens,
afterwards Vice-President of the Confederacy; Toombs, Rhett, Cobb, and
others who afterwards became leaders of the Rebellion. In the Senate
were Daniel Webster, Simon Cameron, Lewis Cass, Mason, Hunter, John C.
Calhoun, and Jefferson Davis.
Lincoln entered Congress as the Illinois leader of the Whig party. He
was reputed to be an able and effective speaker. In speaking of the
impression he made upon his associates, the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop
says: "I recall vividly the impressions I then formed both of his
ability and amiability. We were old Whigs together, and agreed entirely
upon all questions of public interest. I could not always concur in the
policy of the party which made him President, but I never lost my
personal regard for him. For shrewdness, sagacity, and keen practical
sense, he has had no superior in our day or generation."
Alexander H. Stephens, writing seventeen years after Lincoln's death,
recalled their service together in Congress. "I knew Mr. Lincoln well
and intimately," said Mr. Stephens. "We both were ardent supporters of
General Taylor for President in 1848. Lincoln, Toombs, Preston, myself,
and others, formed the first Congressional Taylor Club, known as 'The
Young Indians,' and organized the Taylor movement which resulted in his
nomination. Mr. Lincoln was careless as to his manners and awkward in
his speech, but possessed a strong, clear, vigorous mind. He always
attracted and riveted the attention of the House when he spoke. His
manner of speech as well as of thought was original. He had no model. He
was a man of strong convictions, and what Carlyle would have called an
_earnest_ man. He abounded in anecdote. He illustrated everything he
was talking about by an anecdote, always exceedingly apt and pointed;
and socially he always kept his company in a roar of laughter."
Alluding to his first speech in Congress--on some post-office question
of no special interest--Lincoln wrote to his friend Herndon that his
principal object was to "get the hang of the House"; adding that he
"found speaking here and elsewhere about the same thing. I was about as
badly scared as when I spoke in court, but no more so."
Lincoln's mental power, as well as his self-confidence, developed
rapidly under the responsibilities of his new position. During his term
of service in the House he was zealous in the performance of his duties,
alert to seize every opportunity to strike a blow for his party and
acquit himself to the satisfaction of his constituents. In January,
1848, he made a telling speech in support of the "Spot Resolutions," in
which his antagonism to the course of the Administration in regard to
the war on Mexico was uncompromisingly announced. These resolutions were
offered for the purpose of getting from President Polk a statement of
facts regarding the beginning of the war. In this speech Lincoln warned
the President not to try to "escape scrutiny by fixing the public gaze
upon the exceeding brightness of military glory--that attractive rainbow
that rises in showers of blood, that serpent's eye that charms but to
destroy." In writing, a few days after the delivery of this speech, to
Mr. Herndon, Lincoln said: "I will stake my life that if you had been in
my place you would have voted just as I did. Would you have voted what
you felt and knew to be a lie? I know you would not. Would you have gone
out of the House--skulked the vote? I expect not. If you had skulked one
vote you would have had to skulk many more before the end of the
session. Richardson's resolutions, introduced before I made any move or
gave any vote upon the subject, make a direct question of the justice
of the war; so no man can be silent if he would. You are compelled to
speak; and your only alternative is to tell the _truth_ or tell a _lie_.
I cannot doubt which you would do."
Lincoln's position on the Mexican War has been generally approved by the
moral sense of the country; but it gave his political enemies an
opportunity, which they were not slow to improve, for trying to make
political capital out of it and using it to create a prejudice against
him. Douglas in particular never missed an opportunity of referring to
it. In the great joint debate in 1858 he spoke of Lincoln's having
"distinguished himself in Congress by his opposition to the Mexican War,
taking the side of the common enemy against his own country." No better
refutation of these oft-repeated charges could be made than that given
by Lincoln himself on this occasion. "The Judge charges me," he said,
"with having, while in Congress, opposed our soldiers who were fighting
in the Mexican War. I will tell you what he can prove by referring to
the record. You remember I was an old Whig; and whenever the Democratic
party tried to get me to vote that _the war had been righteously begun_
by the President, I would not do it. But whenever they asked for any
money or land-warrants, or anything to pay the soldiers, I gave _the
same vote that Judge Douglas did_. Such is the truth, and the Judge has
a right to make all he can out of it."
The most ambitious utterance of Lincoln during this term in Congress was
that of July 27, 1848, when he took for his subject the very
comprehensive one of "The Presidency and General Politics." It was a
piece of sound and forcible argumentation, relieved by strong and
effective imagery and quiet humor. A considerable portion of it was
occupied with an exposure of the weaknesses of General Cass, the
Presidential candidate opposed to General Taylor. Lincoln ridiculed Cass
with all the wit at his command. An extract from this speech has
already been quoted in this work, in the account of Lincoln in the Black
Hawk War. Another passage, equally telling, relates to the vacillating
action of General Cass on the Wilmot Proviso. After citing a number of
facts in reference to the case, Lincoln says: "These extracts show that
in 1846 General Cass was for the Proviso _at once_; that in March, 1847,
he was still for it, _but not just then_; and that in December, 1847, he
was _against it_ altogether. This is a true index to the whole man. When
the question was raised, in 1846, he was in a blustering hurry to take
ground for it. He sought to be in advance, and to avoid the
uninteresting position of a mere follower. But soon he began to see
glimpses of the great Democratic ox-gad waving in his face, and to hear
indistinctly a voice saying, 'Back! Back, sir! Back a little!' He shakes
his head and bats his eyes and blunders back to his position of March,
1847. But still the gad waves, and the voice grows more distinct and
sharper still, 'Back, sir! Back, I say! Further back!' And back he goes
to the position of December, 1847, at which the gad is still and the
voice soothingly says, 'So! Stand still at that!'"
Again, after extended comment on the extra charges of General Cass upon
the Treasury for military services, he continued in a still more
sarcastic vein: "But I have introduced General Cass's accounts here
chiefly to show the wonderful physical capacities of the man. They show
that he not only did the labor of several men _at the same time_, but
that he often did it _at several places_ many hundred miles apart _at
the same time_. And at eating, too, his capacities are shown to be quite
as wonderful. From October, 1821, to May, 1822, he ate ten rations a day
in Michigan, ten rations a day here in Washington, and near five
dollars' worth a day besides, partly on the road between the two places.
And then there is an important discovery in his example--the art of
being paid for what one eats, instead of having to pay for it.
Hereafter if any nice young man shall owe a bill which he cannot pay in
any other way he can just board it out. Mr. Speaker, we have all heard
of the animal standing in doubt between two stacks of hay and starving
to death. The like of that would never happen to General Cass. Place the
stacks a thousand miles apart, he would stand stock-still midway between
them and eat them _both at once;_ and the green grass along the line
would be apt to suffer some, too, at the same time. By all means make
him President, gentlemen. He will feed you bounteously--if--if--there is
any left after he shall have helped himself."
Lincoln's most important act in the Congress of 1848-9 was the
introduction of a bill for the gradual abolition of slavery in the
District of Columbia. But the state of feeling on the subject of
emancipation was so feverish at the time that the bill could not even be
got before the House.
The Whig National Convention met at Philadelphia the first of June, to
nominate a candidate for the Presidency. Lincoln attended the Convention
as a delegate from Illinois. During the campaign of 1848 he labored
earnestly for the election of General Taylor. This campaign made him
known more generally throughout the country, as he spoke in New York and
New England as well as in Illinois and the West.
While in Washington, Lincoln kept up a free correspondence with his
friend and law-partner Herndon, which affords many interesting glimpses
of his thoughts and views. In one of these letters, endeavoring to
incite Herndon to political ambition, he wrote: "Nothing could afford me
more satisfaction than to learn that you and others of my young friends
at home were doing battle in the contest, endearing themselves to the
people and taking a stand far above any I have ever been able to reach
in their admiration. I cannot conceive that other old men feel
differently. Of course, I cannot demonstrate what I say; but I was young
once, and I am sure I was never ungenerously thrust back. The way for a
young man to rise is to improve himself in every way he can, never
suspecting that anybody wishes to hinder him. Allow me to assure you
that suspicion and jealousy never did help any man in any situation.
There may sometimes be ungenerous attempts to keep a young man down; and
they will succeed, too, if he allows his mind to be diverted from its
true channel, to brood over the attempted injury. Cast about and see if
this feeling has not injured every person you have ever known to fall
into it. Now, in what I have said I am sure you will suspect nothing but
sincere friendship. I would save you from a fatal error. You have been a
laborious, studious young man. You are far better informed on almost all
subjects than I have ever been. You cannot fail in any laudable object
unless you allow your mind to be improperly directed. I have some the
advantage of you in the world's experience, merely by being older; and
it is this that induces me to offer you this advice."
It will be observed that, in this letter Lincoln speaks of himself as an
"old man." This had been a habit with him for years; and yet at this
date he was under thirty-nine. He was already beginning to be known as
"Old Abe." Hon. E.B. Washburne states that he remembers hearing him thus
called, in Chicago, in July, 1847. "One afternoon," says Mr. Washburne,
"several of us sat on the sidewalk under the balcony in front of the
Sherman House, and among the number was the accomplished scholar and
unrivalled orator, Lisle Smith, who suddenly interrupted the
conversation by exclaiming, 'There is Lincoln on the other side of the
street! _Just look at old Abe!_' And from that time we all called him
'Old Abe.' No one who saw him can forget his personal appearance at that
time. Tall, angular, and awkward, he had on a short-waisted, thin,
swallow-tail coat, a short vest of the same material, thin pantaloons
scarcely coming down to his ankles, a straw hat, and a pair of brogans,
with woollen socks."
During the summer following the expiration of Lincoln's term in Congress
(March 4, 1849) he made a strong effort to secure the position of
Commissioner of the General Land Office, but without success. The place
was given to Justin Butterfield of Chicago. It was a severe
disappointment to Lincoln. Major Wilcox, who at the period referred to
lived in McDonough County, Illinois, and in early days was a Whig
politician, visited Washington to aid Lincoln in seeking this
appointment, and has furnished a graphic account of the circumstances
and of Lincoln's appearance at the national capital in the novel
capacity of an office-seeker. Major Wilcox says that in June, 1849, he
went to Washington and had an interview with the newly-inaugurated
President, General Taylor, regarding Lincoln's appointment to the
desired office. The interview was but partially satisfactory, the
President remarking that he was favorable to Lincoln, but that Mr.
Butterfield was very strongly urged for the place and the chances of
appointment were in his favor. Lincoln had arranged to be in Washington
at a time specified, after Major Wilcox should have had opportunity to
look the ground over. Major Wilcox says that he went to the railroad
depot to meet Lincoln at the train. It was in the afternoon, towards
night. The day had been quite warm, and the road was dry and dusty. He
found Lincoln just emerging from the depot. He had on a thin suit of
summer clothes, his coat being a linen duster, much soiled. His whole
appearance was decidedly shabby. He carried in his hand an old-fashioned
carpet-sack, which added to the oddity of his appearance. Major Wilcox
says if it had been anybody else he would have been rather shy of being
seen in his company, because of the awkward and unseemly appearance he
presented. Lincoln immediately began to talk about his chances for the
appointment; whereupon Major Wilcox related to him everything that had
transpired, and what President Taylor had said to him. They proceeded at
once to Major Wilcox's room, where they sat down to look over the
situation. Lincoln took from his pocket a paper he had prepared in the
case, which comprised eleven reasons why he should be appointed
Commissioner of the General Land Office. Amongst other things Lincoln
presented the fact that he had been a member of Congress from Illinois
two years; that his location was in the West, where the government lands
were; that he was a native of the West, and had been reared under
Western influences. He gave reasons why the appointment should be given
to Illinois, and particularly to the southern part of the State. Major
Wilcox says that he was forcibly struck by the clear, convincing, and
methodical statement of Lincoln as contained in these eleven reasons why
he should have the appointment. But it was given to Mr. Butterfield.
After Lincoln became President, a Member of Congress asked him for an
appointment in the army in behalf of a son of the same Justin
Butterfield. When the application was presented, the President paused,
and after a moment's silence, said: "Mr. Justin Butterfield once
obtained an appointment I very much wanted, in which my friends believed
I could have been useful, and to which they thought I was fairly
entitled. I hardly ever felt so bad at any failure in my life. But I am
glad of an opportunity of doing a service to his son." And he made an
order for his commission. In lieu of the desired office, General Taylor
offered Lincoln the post of Governor, and afterwards of Secretary, of
Oregon Territory; but these offers he declined. In after years a friend
remarked to him, alluding to the event: "How fortunate that you
declined! If you had gone to Oregon you might have come back as
Senator, but you would never have been President." "Yes, you are
probably right," said Lincoln; and then, with a musing, dreamy look, he
added: "I have all my life been a fatalist. What is to be, will be; or,
rather, I have found all my life, as Hamlet says,--
'There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.'"
CHAPTER VII
Lincoln again in Springfield--Back to the Circuit--His Personal
Manners and Appearance--Glimpses of Home-Life--His Family--His
Absent-Mindedness--A Painful Subject--Lincoln a Man of
Sorrows--Familiar Appearance on the Streets of Springfield--Scenes
in the Law-Office--Forebodings of a "Great or Miserable End "--An
Evening with Lincoln in Chicago--Lincoln's Tenderness to His
Relatives--Death of His Father--A Sensible Adviser--Care of His
Step-Mother--Tribute from Her.
Retiring, somewhat reluctantly, from Washington life, which he seems to
have liked very much, Lincoln returned to Springfield in 1849 and
resumed the practice of the law. He declined an advantageous offer of a
law-partnership at Chicago, made him by Judge Goodrich, giving as a
reason that if he went to Chicago he would have to sit down and study
hard, and this would kill him; that he would rather go around the
circuit in the country than to sit down and die in a big city. So he
settled down once more in the rather uneventful and fairly prosperous
life of a country lawyer.
A gentleman who knew Lincoln intimately in Springfield, in his maturity,
has given the following capital description of him. "He stands six feet
four inches high in his stockings. His frame is not muscular, but gaunt
and wiry; his arms are long, but not disproportionately so for a person
of his height; his lower limbs are not disproportioned to his body. In
walking, his gait, though firm, is never brisk. He steps slowly and
deliberately, almost always with his head inclined forward and his hands
clasped behind his back. In matters of dress he is by no means precise.
Always clean, he is never fashionable; he is careless, but not slovenly.
In manner he is remarkably cordial and at the same time simple. His
politeness is always sincere but never elaborate and oppressive. A warm
shake of the hand and a warmer smile of recognition are his methods of
greeting his friends. At rest, his features, though those of a man of
mark, are not such as belong to a handsome man; but when his fine dark
gray eyes are lighted up by any emotion, and his features begin their
play, he would be chosen from among a crowd as one who had in him not
only the kindly sentiments which women love but the heavier metal of
which full-grown men and Presidents are made. His hair is black, and,
though thin, is wiry. His head sits well on his shoulders, but beyond
that it defies description. It nearer resembles that of Clay than that
of Webster; but it is unlike either. It is very large, and
phrenologically well proportioned, betokening power in all its
developments. A slightly Roman nose, a wide-cut mouth, and a dark
complexion, with the appearance of having been weather-beaten, complete
the description."
Of Lincoln's life at this period, another writer says: "He lived simply,
comfortably, and respectably, with neither expensive tastes nor habits.
His wants were few and simple. He occupied a small unostentatious house
in Springfield, and was in the habit of entertaining, in a very simple
way, his friends and his brethren of the bar during the terms of the
court and the sessions of the Legislature. Mrs. Lincoln often
entertained small numbers of friends at dinner and somewhat larger
numbers at evening parties. In his modest and simple home everything was
orderly and refined, and there was always, on the part of both Mr. and
Mrs. Lincoln, a cordial and hearty Western welcome which put every guest
at ease. Yet it was the wit and humor, anecdote, and unrivalled
conversation of the host which formed the chief attraction and made a
dinner at Lincoln's cottage an event to be remembered. Lincoln's income
from his profession was now from $2,000 to $3,000 per annum. His
property consisted of his house and lot in Springfield, a lot in the
town of Lincoln which had been given to him, and 160 acres of wild land
in Iowa which he had received for his services in the Black Hawk War. He
owned a few law and miscellaneous books. All his property may have been
of the value of $10,000 or $12,000."
Lincoln was at this time the father of two sons: Robert Todd, born on
the 1st day of August, 1843; and Edward Baker, born on the 10th of
March, 1846. In a letter to his friend Speed, dated October 22 of the
latter year, Lincoln writes: "We have another boy, born the 10th of
March. He is very much such a child as Bob was at his age, rather of a
_longer_ order. Bob is 'short and low,' and I expect he always will be.
He talks very plainly, almost as plainly as anybody. He is quite smart
enough. I sometimes fear he is one of the little _rare-ripe_ sort that
are smarter at about five than ever after. He has a great deal of that
sort of mischief that is the offspring of much animal spirits. Since I
began this letter a messenger came to tell me Bob was lost; but by the
time I reached the house his mother had found him and had him whipped.
By now, very likely, he is run away again."
December 21, 1850, a third son, William Wallace, was born to him; and on
April 4, 1853, a fourth and last child, named Thomas.
"A young man bred in Springfield," says Dr. Holland, "speaks of a vision
of Lincoln, as he appeared in those days, that has clung to his memory
very vividly. The young man's way to school led by the lawyer's door. On
almost any fair summer morning he would find Lincoln on the sidewalk in
front of his house, drawing a child backward and forward in a little
gig. Without hat or coat, wearing a pair of rough shoes, his hands
behind him holding to the tongue of the gig, and his tall form bent
forward to accommodate himself to the service, he paced up and down the
walk forgetful of everything around him and intent only on some subject
that absorbed his mind. The young man says he remembers wondering in his
boyish way how so rough and plain a man should happen to live in so
respectable a house. The habit of mental absorption, or
'absent-mindedness' as it is called, was common with him always, but
particularly during the formative periods of his life. The New Salem
people, it will be remembered, thought him crazy because he passed his
best friends in the street without seeing them. At the table, in his own
family, he often sat down without knowing or realizing where he was, and
ate his food mechanically. When he 'came to himself' it was a trick with
him to break the silence by the quotation of some verse of poetry from a
favorite author. It relieved the awkwardness of the situation, served as
a 'blind' to the thoughts which had possessed him, and started
conversation in a channel that led as far as possible from the subject
that he had set aside."
Mr. Lamon has written with great freedom of the sorrow that brooded over
Lincoln's home. Some knowledge of the blight which this cast upon his
life is necessary for a right interpretation of the gloomy moods that
constantly oppressed him and left their indelible impress on his face
and character. Mr. Lamon states unreservedly that Lincoln's marriage was
an unhappy one. The circumstances preceding his union with Miss Todd
have been related. Mr. Lamon says: "He was conscientious and honorable
and just. There was but one way of repairing the injury he had done Miss
Todd, and he adopted it. They were married; but they understood each
other, and suffered the inevitable consequences. Such troubles seldom
fail to find a tongue; and it is not strange that in this case neighbors
and friends, and ultimately the whole country, came to know the state of
things in that house. Lincoln scarcely attempted to conceal it. He
talked of it with little or no reserve to his wife's relatives, as well
as to his own friends. Yet the gentleness and patience with which he
bore this affliction from day to day and from year to year was enough to
move the shade of Socrates. It touched his acquaintances deeply, and
they gave it the widest publicity." Mrs. Colonel Chapman, daughter of
Dennis Hanks and a relative of Lincoln, made him a long visit previous
to her marriage. "You ask me," says she, "how Mr. Lincoln acted at home.
I can say, and that truly, he was all that a husband, father, and
neighbor should be, kind and affectionate to his wife and child ('Bob'
being the only one they had when I was with them), and very pleasant to
all around him. Never did I hear him utter an unkind word."
It seems impossible to arrive at all the causes of Lincoln's melancholy
disposition. He was, according to his most intimate friends, totally
unlike other people,--was, in fact, "a mystery." But whatever the
history or the cause,--whether physical reasons, the absence of domestic
concord, a series of painful recollections of his mother, of early
sorrows and hardships, of Anne Rutledge and fruitless hopes, or all
these combined,--Lincoln was a terribly sad and gloomy man. "I do not
think that he knew what happiness was for twenty years," says Mr.
Herndon. "'_Terrible_' is the word which all his friends used to
describe him in the black mood. 'It was terrible! It was terrible!' said
one to another." Judge Davis believes that Lincoln's hilarity was mainly
simulated, and that "his stories and jokes were intended to whistle off
sadness." "The groundwork of his social nature was sad," says Judge
Scott. "But for the fact that he studiously cultivated the humorous, it
would have been very sad indeed. His mirth always seemed to me to be put
on; like a plant produced in a hot-bed, it had an unnatural and
luxuriant growth." Mr. Herndon, Lincoln's law-partner and most intimate
friend, describes him at this period as a "thin, tall, wiry, sinewy,
grizzly, raw-boned man, looking 'woe-struck.' His countenance was
haggard and careworn, exhibiting all the marks of deep and protracted
suffering. Every feature of the man--the hollow eyes, with the dark
rings beneath; the long, sallow, cadaverous face intersected by those
peculiar deep lines; his whole air; his walk; his long silent reveries,
broken at long intervals by sudden and startling exclamations, as if to
confound an observer who might suspect the nature of his
thoughts,--showed he was a man of sorrows, not sorrows of to-day or
yesterday, but long-treasured and deep, bearing with him a continual
sense of weariness and pain. He was a plain, homely, sad, weary-looking man, to whom one's heart warmed involuntarily because he seemed at once miserable and kind." |
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