Project Gutenberg's Best Lincoln stories, tersely told, by James E. Gallaher This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license Title: Best Lincoln stories, tersely told Author: James E. Gallaher Release Date: January 24, 2017 [EBook #54047] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEST LINCOLN STORIES, TERSELY TOLD *** Produced by MFR and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Taken at Springfield in 1861. One of the very best. [i] [ii] BEST Lincoln Stories TERSELY TOLD. BY J. E. GALLAHER. CHICAGO: James E. Gallaher & Co. 36, 184 Dearborn St. Copyright, 1898, By James E. Gallaher. PREFACE. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. How American history would dwindle if that name were taken out of it! Washington was great. Grant was great. Lee was great. Many others have been and are great in all the walks of life. But Lincoln, who came out of the lowly heart of the people, will come back nearer to that heart than any other man probably that the nation has known. There have been men of war and there have been men of peace, but there has been no such man of peace in war as Lincoln. Why is it we never tire of thinking of Mr. Lincoln personally, nor of speaking of him and his deeds? Is it not because “he was indeed one of the most unique figures in history, and one of the most remarkable surprises of the age?” What has he been called by those who knew him best? “The greatest of patriots, the wisest of rulers, the ablest of men.” What led to his greatness and caused him to hold such an extraordinary sway over the people during the most tumultuous of times, when seven states had seceded and the rebellion was well under way at his inauguration, and when a bloody and fiercely contested war was fought during his administration? I will let one more competent than myself answer. Bishop Fowler, of the First M. E. Church of New York, said: “What, then, were the elements of Lincoln’s greatness? To begin with, ‘he was not made out of any fool mud,’ and then he thoroughly understood himself and knew how to handle his resources. His moral sense was the first important trait of his character, his reason the second, and the third was his wonderful ‘common-sense,’ the most uncommon thing found even among the great. “These are the three fixed points on which his character hung. Without the first he had been a villain. Without the second, a fool. Without the third, a dreamer. With them all he made up himself—Abraham Lincoln.” It is wonderful how many stories President Lincoln told, and still more wonderful how many stories are told of him. The late Senator Voorhees, of Indiana, said that Lincoln had more stories than any other man he had ever met. He had a story for every occasion, and he illustrated everything by anecdote. Some of the best stories current to-day originated with Lincoln and hundreds of his best stories have never been published. Senator Voorhees had preserved a number which he expected to use in lectures which he was preparing at the time he died. He had hoped to live long enough after his retirement from public life to write a book on his personal recollections of the martyred President, among which would have been included many stories. The late David Davis, of Illinois, before whose court Lincoln practiced so often, once said that there were but three men in the world who thoroughly understood Abraham Lincoln—himself, Leonard Swett, of Chicago, and Daniel W. Voorhees. All these three men are dead. In gathering material for this work the editor has exercised due care in accepting only such stories as bore the impress of truth. It is his hope that this little volume will be eagerly welcomed in every home which venerates the name of Abraham Lincoln, and that it will be an inspiration to every boy of the land who, in looking to Lincoln for an ideal, should ever remember that Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part; there all the honor lies. [iii] [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [viii] [ix] J. E. GALLAHER. CONTENTS. PAGE. Preface 7 Lincoln’s Great Strength as a Boy 11 Was Proud of His Strength 11 Lincoln a Powerful Wrestler 12 Lincoln Split 400 Rails for a Yard of Jeans 12 Lincoln as a Verse Writer 14 Lincoln’s Quick Wit in Helping a Girl to Spell a Word 15 Lincoln as a Notion Peddler 15 Lincoln Saved From Drowning 16 Lincoln’s Youthful Eloquence 18 One of Lincoln’s Songs 19 Lincoln’s First Political Speech 20 How Lincoln Became Known as “Honest Abe” 21 Lincoln Was an “Obliging” Man 22 How Lincoln Paid a Large Debt 23 His First Sight of Slavery 23 Lincoln and Jeff Davis in the Black Hawk War 24 Lincoln’s Glowing Tribute to His Mother 25 What Lincoln’s Step-Mother Said of Him 26 Lincoln’s First Love 26 The Duel Lincoln Didn’t Fight 28 Lincoln as a Dancer 29 Lincoln’s Courtship and Marriage 29 Lincoln’s Personal Appearance 31 Lincoln’s Mother 32 Lincoln’s Melancholia 34 Lincoln’s Height 36 How Lincoln Became a Lawyer 36 Lincoln as a Lawyer 37 Lincoln’s Conscientiousness in Taking Cases 38 The Jury Understood 39 Lincoln’s Honesty with a Lady Client 39 Lincoln Wins a Celebrated Case 40 Lincoln’s “Selfishness” 41 Lincoln Removes a License on Theatres 42 How Lincoln Got the Worst of a Horse Trade 43 Lincoln Helped Him to Win 44 Lincoln Settles a Quarrel Without Going to Law 46 A Lincoln Story About Little Dan Webster’s Soiled Hands 47 Lincoln’s Long Limbs Drive a Man Out of His Berth 48 Lincoln’s Joke on Douglas 49 Lincoln Shrewdly Traps Douglas 50 Lincoln’s Fairness in Debate 52 Lincoln Asked His Friend’s Help for the United States Senate 54 Making Lincoln Presentable 55 Evidence of Lincoln’s Religious Belief 56 Lincoln a Temperance Man 57 Lincoln’s Famous Gettysburg Address 57 The Gettysburg Address 59 Lincoln as a Ruler 60 Lincoln’s Real Object in Conducting the War 61 Lincoln Asked for Some of Grant’s Whisky 62 Lincoln Believed Himself Ugly 62 Lincoln’s Kindness to a Disabled Soldier 63 A Sample of Lincoln’s Statesmanship 64 Two Good Stories 65 Lincoln Raises a Warning Voice Against the Concentration of Great Wealth 65 Lincoln and the Dying Soldier Boy 66 The Dandy, the Bugs and the President 67 Lincoln Upheld the Hands of Gen. Grant 68 Why Lincoln Told Stories 69 Lincoln Rewards a Man For Kindness Thirty Years After the Occurrence 70 Lincoln a Merciful Man 71 Lincoln’s Humorous Advice to a Distinguished Bachelor 72 How Lincoln Answered a Delicate Question 73 Lincoln Illustrates a Case Humorously 74 Why Lincoln Mistook a Driver to be an Episcopalian 74 A Clergyman Who Talked But Little 75 How Lincoln Received a Jackknife as a Present 75 The Best Car For His Corpse 76 His Title Did Not Help Any 77 One of Lincoln’s Autographs 77 Lincoln’s Substitute 77 Lincoln’s Estimate of the Financial Standing of a Neighbor 78 Lincoln’s Query Puzzled the Man 78 Lincoln’s Inauguration 79 John Sherman’s First Meeting with Lincoln 80 Lincoln and the Sentinel 81 Origin of “With Malice Toward None,” Etc. 82 His Good Memory of Names 82 Lincoln’s Grief Over the Defeat of the Union Army 83 Three Stories of Lincoln by Senator Palmer 84 His Famous Second Inaugural Address 87 Lincoln Said Even a Rebel Could be Saved 88 Washington and Lincoln Compared 89 Lincoln Remembered Him 91 Why Lincoln Pardoned Them 92 The Lincoln Portraits 96 Lincoln’s Faith in Providence 97 Lincoln’s Last Words 99 A Chicagoan Who Saw Lincoln Shot 101 Martyred Lincoln’s Blood 104 A Strange Coincidence in the Lives of Lincoln and His Slayer 105 Where is the Original Emancipation Proclamation 106 Mr. Griffiths on Lincoln 107 A Famous Chicago Lawyer’s Views 107 Lincoln Was Plain but Great 109 Lincoln’s Specific Life Work 110 The Proposed Purchase of the Slaves 111 Senator Thurston’s Speech 112 Lincoln Analyzed 116 The Religion of the Presidents 121 BEST LINCOLN STORIES TERSELY TOLD. LINCOLN’S GREAT STRENGTH AS A BOY. The strength Lincoln displayed when he was ten years old is remarkable. At that age he was almost constantly using [x] [11] an axe in chopping and splitting wood and he used it with great skill, sinking it deeper into the wood than any other person. He cut the elm and linn brush used for feeding the stock, drove the team, handled the old shovel-plow, wielded the sickle, threshed wheat with a flail, fanned and cleaned it with a sheet and performed other labor that few men of to- day could do so well. He wielded the axe from the age of ten till he was twenty-three. As he grew older he became one of the strongest and most popular “hands” in the vicinity and his services were in great demand. He was employed as a “hand” by his neighbors at 25 cents a day, which money was paid to his father. WAS PROUD OF HIS STRENGTH. Mr. Lincoln was a remarkably strong man; he was strong as well as tall. He was in the habit of measuring his height with other tall men,—he did this even in the White House. In 1859 he visited the Wisconsin State Fair at Milwaukee and was led around by the then Governor Hoyt. They entered a tent where a “strong man” was performing with huge iron balls. His feats amazed and interested Lincoln. The governor told him to go up on the platform and be introduced to the athlete, by whose exhibition of skill he was so fascinated. He did so, and after the formal introduction he remarked to the “strong man,” who was short of stature: “Why, I could lick salt off the top of your hat.” LINCOLN A POWERFUL WRESTLER. While a clerk in a general store at New Salem, Ill., Lincoln gained the reputation of being a skillful and powerful wrestler. Near New Salem was a settlement known as Clary’s Grove, in which lived an organization known as “Clary’s Grove Boys.” They were rude in their manners and rough and boastful in their ways, being what would to-day be called “a set of rowdies.” The leader of this organization, and the strongest of the lot, was a young man named Armstrong. It had been said that Lincoln could easily outdo any one of the Clary Grove boys in anything and the report naturally touched the pride of the Armstrong youth. He felt compelled to prove the truth or falsity of such a story, and accordingly a wrestling match was arranged between Lincoln and himself. It was a great day in the village of New Salem and Clary’s Grove. The match was held on the ground in front of the store in which Lincoln had been clerking. There was much betting on the result, the odds being against Lincoln. Hardly, however, had the two wrestlers taken hold of each other before the Armstrong youth found that he had “met a foe worthy his steel.” The two wrestled long and hard, each doing his utmost to throw the other but to no avail. Both kept their feet; neither could throw the other. The Armstrong youth being convinced that he could not throw Lincoln, tried a “foul.” This resort to dishonest means to gain an advantage inflamed Lincoln with indignation, and he immediately caught young Armstrong by the throat, held him at arm’s length and “shook him like a child.” Armstrong’s friends rushed to his rescue, and for a time it seemed as if Lincoln would be mobbed. But he held his own bravely and all alone, and by his daring excited the admiration of even those whose sympathies were with young Armstrong. What at one time seemed to result in a general fight resulted in a general handshake, even “Jack” Armstrong declaring that Lincoln was “the best fellow who ever broke into camp.” LINCOLN SPLIT 400 RAILS FOR A YARD OF BROWN JEANS. When Lincoln lived in Illinois (New Salem) he wore trousers made of flax and tow cut tight at the ankles and out at both knees. Though a very poor young man he was universally welcomed in every house of the neighborhood. Money was so scarce in those days that it is known that Lincoln once split 400 rails for every yard of brown jeans, dyed with white walnut bark, that would be necessary to make him a pair of trousers. LINCOLN AS A VERSE WRITER. Even when he was a boy Lincoln was sometimes called upon to write poetry. The following are among his earliest attempts at rhyme: Good boys who to their books apply, Will all be great men by and by. It is needless to say that Lincoln himself carried out what he wrote so well; in other words, he “practiced what he [12] [13] [14] preached.” It was in a great measure owing to his constant application to his books that he afterward became a great man. The following poem Mr. Lincoln wrote in 1844, while on a visit to the home of his childhood: My childhood’s home I see again And sadden with the view; And, still, as memory crowds my brain, There’s pleasure in it, too. Oh, memory, thou midway world ’Twixt earth and paradise, Where things decayed and loved ones lost In dreamy shadows rise; And, freed from all that’s earthy vile, Seems hallowed, pure and bright, Like scenes in some enchanted isle, All bathed in liquid light. LINCOLN’S QUICK WIT IN HELPING A GIRL TO SPELL A WORD. “Abe” Lincoln was always ready and willing to help any one. Once he was in a spelling match at school when the word “defied” had been given out by the teacher. It had been misspelled several times when it came the turn of a girl friend of Lincoln’s to spell. The pupils were arranged on opposite sides of the room and “Abe” was watching his friend as she struggled with the spelling. She began d-e-f, and stopped, being unable to decide whether to proceed with an i or a y. Happening to look up, she caught sight of Abe, who was grinning. He pointed with his index finger to his eye. The hint was quickly understood, the word was spelled with an i and it went through all right. LINCOLN AS A NOTION PEDDLER. In March, 1830, the Lincoln family moved from Gentryville, Indiana, to near Decatur, Illinois, their household goods being packed in a wagon drawn by four oxen driven by “Abe.” The winter previous Lincoln had worked in a country store in Gentryville and before undertaking the journey he invested all the money he had, some thirty dollars, in notions, such as needles, pins, thread, buttons and other domestic necessities. These he sold to families along the route and made a profit of about one hundred per cent. This shows he had a mind for seizing hold of opportunities for making money even when young. LINCOLN SAVED FROM DROWNING. The life of Lincoln during the time the family lived in Kentucky appears to have been entirely uneventful. He helped his mother—after he was 3 years old—in the simple household duties, went to the district school, and played with the children of the neighborhood. The only one of young Lincoln’s playmates now living is an old man nearly 100 years old named Austin Gollaher, whose mind is bright and clear, and who never tires of telling of the days Lincoln and he “were little tikes and played together.” This old man, who yet lives in the log house in which he has always lived, a few miles from the old Lincoln place, tells entertaining stories about the President’s boyhood. Mr. Gollaher says that they were together more than the other boys in school, that he became fond of his little friend, and he believed that Abe thought a great deal of him. In speaking of various events of minor importance in their boyhood days Mr. Gollaher remarked: “I once saved Lincoln’s life.” Upon being urged to tell of the occurrence he thus related it: “We had been going to school together one year; but the next year we had no school, because there were so few scholars to attend, there being only about twenty in the school the year before. “Consequently Abe and I had not much to do; but, as we did not go to school and our mothers were strict with us, we did not get to see each other very often. One Sunday morning my mother waked me up early, saying she was going to see Mrs. Lincoln, and that I could go along. Glad of the chance, I was soon dressed and ready to go. After my mother and I got there Abe and I played all through the day. “While we were wandering up and down the little stream called Knob Creek Abe said: ‘Right up there’—pointing to [15] [16] [17] the east—‘we saw a covey of partridges yesterday. Let’s go over and get some of them.’ The stream was swollen and was too wide for us to jump across. Finally we saw a narrow foot-log, and we concluded to try it. It was narrow, but Abe said, ‘Let’s coon it.’ “I went first and reached the other side all right. Abe went about half-way across, when he got scared and began trembling. I hollered to him, ‘Don’t look down nor up nor sideways, but look right at me and hold on tight!’ But he fell off into the creek, and, as the water was about seven or eight feet deep and I could not swim, and neither could Abe, I knew it would do no good for me to go in after him. “So I got a stick—a long water sprout—and held it out to him. He came up, grabbing with both hands, and I put the stick into his hands. He clung to it, and I pulled him out on the bank, almost dead. I got him by the arms and shook him well, and then rolled him on the ground, when the water poured out of his mouth. “He was all right very soon. We promised each other that we would never tell anybody about it, and never did for years. I never told any one of it until after Lincoln was killed.” LINCOLN’S YOUTHFUL ELOQUENCE. One man in Gentryville, Ind., a Mr. Jones, the storekeeper, took a Louisville paper, and here Lincoln went regularly to read and discuss its contents. All the men and boys of the neighborhood gathered there, and everything which the paper related was subjected to their keen, shrewd common sense. It was not long before young Lincoln became the favorite member of the group and the one listened to most eagerly. Politics was warmly discussed by these Gentryville citizens, and it may be that sitting on the counter of Jones’ grocery Lincoln even discussed slavery. It certainly was one of the live questions of Indiana at that date. Young Lincoln was not only winning in those days in the Jones grocery store a reputation as a debater and story teller, but he was becoming known as a kind of backwoods orator. He could repeat with effect all the poems and speeches in his various school readers, he could imitate to perfection the wandering preachers who came to Gentryville, and he could make a political speech so stirring that he drew a crowd about him every time he mounted a stump. The applause he won was sweet, and frequently he indulged his gifts when he ought to have been at work—so thought his employers and Thomas, his father. It was trying, no doubt, to the hard pushed farmers to see the men who ought to have been cutting grass or chopping wood throw down their sickles or axes to group around a boy whenever he mounted a stump to develop a pet theory or repeat with variations yesterday’s sermon. In his fondness for speech- making he attended all the trials of the neighborhood and frequently walked 15 miles to Booneville to attend court. ONE OF LINCOLN’S SONGS. As will be learned elsewhere in this book Annie Rutledge was Lincoln’s first love. Mrs. William Prewitt, of Fairfield, Iowa, is a sister of Annie Rutledge. She is a widow in comfortable circumstances and lives with one of her sons. This is what she says of her dead sister and Lincoln: “Her death made a great impression upon him I could see. We never knew him to jolly or laugh afterward. Annie was next to the oldest girl in our family, and she had a great deal of the housework to do. I remember seeing her washing in the old-fashioned way. She would sweep and bake, and was a good cook and took pride in her housework. She and Abe were very jolly together sometimes. They used to sing together. There was one song I didn’t like to hear, and he would sing it to tease me. He would tip back his chair and roar it out at the top of his voice, over and over again, just for fun. I have the book they used to sing out of yet with that song in it.” The book is an old-fashioned “Missouri Harmony,” and the song is as follows: When in death I shall calmly recline, O, bear my heart to my mistress dear; Tell her it lived on smiles and wine Of brightest hue while it lingered here; Bid her not shed one tear of sorrow To sully a heart so brilliant and bright, But healing drops of the red grape borrow To bathe the relick from morn till night. When informed that the song was a queer one to sing for fun, Mrs. Prewitt replied that “it is a queer song anyhow.” [18] [19] [20] LINCOLN’S FIRST POLITICAL SPEECH. A citizen of Buffalo has found among his papers an account of the circumstances under which Abraham Lincoln made his maiden speech. It was originally printed in the Springfield (Ill.) Republican, and is as follows: “The President of the United States made his maiden speech in Sangamon County, at Pappsville (or Richland), in the year 1832. He was then a Whig and a candidate for the Legislature of this State. The speech is sharp and sensible. To understand why it was so short the following facts will show: 1. Mr. Lincoln was a young man of 23 years of age and timid. 2. His friends and opponents in the joint discussion had rolled the sun nearly down. Lincoln saw it was not the proper time then to discuss the question fully, and hence he cut his remarks short. Probably the other candidates had exhausted the subjects under discussion. The time, according to W. H. Herndon’s informant—who has kindly furnished this valuable reminiscence for us—was 1832; it may have been 1831. The President lived at the time with James A. Herndon, at Salem, Sangamon County, who heard the speech, talked about it, and knows the report to be correct. The speech, which was characteristic of the man, was as follows: “‘Gentlemen, Fellow-Citizens: I presume you all know who I am. I am humble Abraham Lincoln. I have been solicited by my friends to become a candidate for the Legislature. My politics are short and sweet, like an “old woman’s dance.” I am in favor of a national bank. I am in favor of the international improvement system and a high protective tariff. These are my sentiments and political principles. If elected, I will be thankful. If defeated, it will be all the same.’” HOW LINCOLN BECAME KNOWN AS “HONEST ABE.” As a grocery clerk at New Salem Lincoln was scrupulously honest. This trait of his soon became known, but the two following incidents are particularly responsible for the appellation of “Honest Abe,” given him and by which he has been so familiarly known. He once took six and a quarter cents too much from a customer. He did not say to himself, “never mind such little things,” but walked three miles that evening, after closing his store, to return the money. On another occasion he weighed out a half-pound of tea, as he supposed, it being night when he did so, and that having been the last thing he sold in the store before going home. On entering in the morning he discovered a four-ounce weight on the scales. He saw his mistake, and shutting up shop, hurried off to deliver the remainder of the tea. These acts of his, as well as his thorough honesty in other respects, soon gained for him the now famous title of “Honest Abe.” LINCOLN WAS AN “OBLIGING” MAN. Lincoln was always ready to help any man, woman, child or animal. He was naturally kindhearted, and “possessed in an extraordinary degree the power of entering into the interests of others, a power found only in reflective, unselfish natures.” He loved his friends and sympathized with them in their troubles. He was anxious always to do his share in making their labors day after day as light as possible. Thus we are told by his neighbors (biography by Mr. Herndon and others) that he cared for the children while on a visit to a friend’s house; gave up his own bed in the tavern where he was boarding when the house was full, and slept on the counter; helped farmers pull out the wheel of their wagon when it got stuck in the mud; chopped wood for the widows; rocked the cradle while the woman of the house where he was staying was busy getting the meal, and otherwise made himself useful. No wonder there was not a housewife in all New Salem who would not gladly “put on a plate” for Abe Lincoln, or who would not darn or mend for him whenever he needed such services. It was the “spontaneous, unobtrusive helpfulness of the man’s nature which endeared him to everybody.” HOW LINCOLN PAID A LARGE DEBT. Mr. Lincoln went into partnership in the grocery business in New Salem. Ill., with a man named Berry. This man Berry mismanaged the business while Lincoln was away surveying. Eventually he died, leaving Lincoln to pay a debt of eleven hundred dollars contracted by the firm. In those days it was the fashion for business men who had failed to “clear out,” that is, skip the town and settle elsewhere. Not so with “Abe.” He quietly settled down among the men he owed and promised to pay them. He asked only time. For several years he worked to pay off this debt, a load which he cheerfully and manfully bore. He habitually spoke of it to his friends as the “national debt,” it was so heavy. As late as 1848, when he was a member of Congress, he sent home a part of his salary to be applied on these obligations. All the notes, with the high interest rates then prevailing, were finally paid. [21] [22] [23] HIS FIRST SIGHT OF SLAVERY. In May, 1831, Lincoln and a few companions went to New Orleans on a flat-boat and remained there a month. It was there that he witnessed for the first time negro men and women sold like animals. The poor beings were chained, whipped and scourged. “Against this inhumanity his sense of right and justice rebelled, and his mind and conscience were awakened to a realization of what he had often heard and read,” writes one of his biographers, Ida M. Tarbell. One morning, in his rambles with his friends over the city, he passed a slave auction. A comely mulatto girl of vigorous physique was being sold. She underwent a thorough examination at the hands of the bidders; they pinched her flesh, and made her trot up and down the room like a horse to show how she moved, and in order, as the auctioneer said, that “bidders might satisfy themselves” whether the article they were offering to buy was sound or not. “The whole thing was so revolting that Lincoln moved away from the scene with a deep feeling of unconquerable hate.” He remarked to his companions: “If I ever get a chance to hit that thing (slavery) I’ll hit it hard.” LINCOLN AND DAVIS IN THE BLACK HAWK WAR. Abraham Lincoln had a very brief experience with actual warfare. He enlisted with a company of volunteers to take part in the Black Hawk war. It was the custom in those days for each company to elect its own Captain, and Lincoln was chosen Captain of his company almost unanimously. He was heard to say many times in after life that no other success in his life had given him such pleasure as did this one. His command did little, as they were never engaged in a pitched battle, so Lincoln had to be content “with the reputation of being the best comrade and story-teller in the camp.” It is a peculiar coincidence that Jefferson Davis also served as an officer in this war. LINCOLN’S GLOWING TRIBUTE TO HIS MOTHER. These famous words originated with the good and lowly Abraham Lincoln: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” His affection for his mother was very strong, and long after her death he would speak of her affectionately and tearfully. She was a woman five feet five inches in height, slender of figure, pale of complexion, sad of expression, and of a sensitive nature. Of a heroic nature, she yet shrank from the rude life around her. About two years after her removal from Kentucky to Indiana she died. “Abe” was then ten years old. She was buried under a tree near the cabin home, where little “Abe” would often betake himself and, sitting on her lonely grave, weep over his irreparable loss. Lincoln’s mother was buried in a green pine box made by his father. Although a boy of ten years at that time, it was through his efforts that a parson came all the way from Kentucky to Indiana three months later to preach the sermon and conduct the service. The child could not rest in peace till due honor had been done his dead mother. WHAT LINCOLN’S STEP-MOTHER SAID OF HIM. “Abe was a good boy, and I can say what scarcely one woman—a mother—can say in a thousand: Abe never gave me a cross word or look, and never refused, in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested him. I never gave him a cross word in all my life. … His mind and mine—what little I had—seemed to run together. He was here after he was elected President. He was a dutiful son to me always. I think he loved me truly. I had a son, John, who was raised with Abe. Both were good boys; but I must say, both now being dead, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw, or expect to see.”—Ida M. Tarbell. LINCOLN’S FIRST LOVE. Lincoln’s first love was Anna Rutledge, of New Salem, whose father was keeper of the Rutledge tavern where “Abe” boarded. The girl had been engaged to a young man named John McNeill, whom, we are informed, the village community pronounced an adventurer and a man unworthy the girl’s love. He left for the east, promising, however, to return within a year and claim her as his wife, so the story reads. According to Mrs. William Prewitt, a sister of Anna Rutledge, who is at present (1898) living, the engagement was broken off before McNeill went away, so that she was [24] [25] [26] [27] free to receive the attentions of “Abe” Lincoln. She finally promised to become his wife in the spring of 1835, soon after his return from Vandalia. But, unfortunately, circumstances did not permit of a marriage then, Lincoln being barely able to support himself, not yet having been admitted to the bar, and the girl, being but seventeen years old. It was agreed that she should attend an academy at Jacksonville, Ill., and Lincoln would devote himself to his law studies till the next spring, when he would be admitted to the bar, and then they would be married. New Salem was deeply interested in the young lovers and prophesied a happy life for them; but fate willed it otherwise. Anna Rutledge became seriously ill, with an attack of brain fever, and when it was seen that her recovery was impossible Lincoln, her lover, was sent for. They “passed an hour alone in an anguished parting,” and soon after (August 25, 1835,) Anna died. The death of his sweetheart was a terrible blow to Lincoln. His melancholy increased and darkened his mind and his imagination, and tortured him with its black picture. One stormy night he was sitting beside a friend of his, with his head bowed on his hand, while tears trickled through his fingers. His friend begged him to try to control his sorrow; to try to forget it. Lincoln replied: “I cannot; the thought of the snow and rain on Ann’s grave fills me with indescribable grief.” For many days Lincoln journeyed on foot to the cemetery where Anna Rutledge lay buried, and there alone, in the “city of the dead,” wept for the girl whom he had loved so well. Many years afterward, when he had married and become great, he said to a friend who questioned him: “I really and truly loved the girl and think often of her now.” After a pause he added: “And I have loved the name of Rutledge to this day.” THE DUEL LINCOLN DIDN’T FIGHT. President Abraham Lincoln and General Joe Shields, who married sisters, once arranged to fight a duel at Alton, Ill. It is remembered yet by the old settlers. Shields had offended a young lady at Springfield, and she got even by sending an article about it to a Springfield paper, signing a nom de plume. The next day General Shields called upon the editor and gave him 24 hours during which to divulge the name of the author or to take the consequences. The editor, who was a friend of Abraham Lincoln, called upon him and asked what to do. Not thinking it was a very serious affair, Lincoln promptly said, “Tell him that I wrote it.” The editor did so, and General Shields challenged Lincoln to a duel, the latter accepting and choosing broadswords as the weapons and an island opposite Alton as the place. The principals and seconds went to the place appointed, when a chance remark of Lincoln that he hated to have to kill Shields because he caused him to believe that he wrote the article in order to protect a lady, brought about a reconciliation, and the duel failed to come off. Hundreds of people were on the bank of the river, and to carry out a joke a log was dressed up, placed in a skiff, the occupants fanning it with their hats as though it was an injured man, and the excitement was intense. It always remained a sore spot with Lincoln, and but little was ever said about it. LINCOLN AS A DANCER. Lincoln made his first appearance in society when he was first sent to Springfield, Ill., as a member of the state legislature. It was not an imposing figure which he cut in a ballroom, but still he was occasionally to be found there. Miss Mary Todd, who afterward became his wife, was the magnet which drew the tall, awkward young man from his den. One evening Lincoln approached Miss Todd and said, in his peculiar idiom: “Miss Todd, I should like to dance with you the worst way.” The young woman accepted the inevitable and hobbled around the room with him. When she returned to her seat, one of her companions asked mischievously: “Well, Mary, did he dance with you the worst way?” “Yes,” she answered, “the very worst.” LINCOLN’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. In 1839 Miss Mary Todd, of Kentucky, arrived in Springfield to visit a married sister, Mrs. Edwards. At the instance of his friend Speed, who was also a Kentuckian, Lincoln became a visitor at the Edwards’, and before long it was apparent to the observant among those in Springfield that the lively young lady held him captive. Engagements at that time and in that neighborhood were not announced as soon as they were made, and it is not at all impossible that Miss Todd and Mr. Lincoln were betrothed many months before any other than Mrs. Edwards and Mr. Speed knew of it. At this time, as was the case till Lincoln was elected to the presidency, his one special rival in Illinois was Stephen A. Douglas. Mr. Douglas had more of the social graces than Mr. Lincoln, and it appeared to him that nothing would be [28] [29] [30] more interesting than to cut out his political rival in the affections of the entertaining and lively Miss Todd, and so he paid her court. A spirited young lady from Kentucky at that time in Illinois would have been almost less than human if she had refused to accept the attentions of the two leading men of the locality. Therefore Miss Todd, being quite human, encouraged Douglas, and again there was what nowadays would have been called a flirtation. This course of action did not spur Lincoln on in his devotion, but made him less ardent, and he concluded, after much self worriment, to break off the engagement, which he did, but at the same interview there was a reconciliation and a renewal of the engagement. Lincoln’s marriage to Mary Todd occurred in Springfield, Ill., at the home of Mr. M. W. Edwards, where Miss Todd lived. She was the belle of Springfield. The marriage, although hastily arranged in the end, was perhaps the first one performed in that city with all the requirements of the Episcopal ceremony. Rev. Charles Dresser officiated. Among the many friends of Lincoln who were present was Thomas C. Brown, one of the judges of the state supreme court. He was a blunt, outspoken man and an old timer. Parson Dresser was attired in full canonical robes and recited the service with much impressive solemnity. He handed Lincoln the ring, who, placing it on the bride’s finger, repeated the church formula, “With this ring I thee endow with all my goods and chattels, lands and tenements.” Judge Brown, who had never before witnessed such a ceremony, and looked upon it as utterly absurd, ejaculated, in a tone loud enough to be heard by all, “God Almighty, Lincoln, the statute fixes all that!” This unexpected interruption almost upset the old parson, who had a keen sense of the ridiculous, but he quickly recovered his gravity and hastily pronounced the couple man and wife. LINCOLN’S PERSONAL APPEARANCE. That Lincoln was a man of extraordinary personal appearance is well known. He measured six feet four inches, and as most men are below six feet it will be seen that he was considerably taller than the average. He possessed great strength, both bodily and mental, and had a superabundance of patience, which he displayed constantly, and treated even those who differed with him with respect and kindness. One who had sustained close relations with Lincoln and knew him intimately, the late Charles A. Dana, in his Reminiscences of Abraham Lincoln, published in McClure’s Magazine, thus describes him: “Mr. Lincoln’s face was thin, and his features were large. He had black hair, heavy eyebrows, and a square and well developed forehead. His complexion was dark and quite sallow. He had a smile that was most lovely, surpassing even a woman’s smile in its engaging quality. When pleased his face would light up very pleasantly. Some have said he was awkward in his step. The word ‘awkward’ hardly fits, because there was such a charm and beauty about his expression, such good humor and friendly spirit looking from his eyes, that one looking at him never thought whether he was awkward or graceful. His whole personality at once caused you to think, ‘What a kindly character this man has!’ Always dignified in manner, he was benevolent and benignant, always wishing to do somebody some good if he could. He was all solid, hard, keen intelligence combined with goodness.” LINCOLNS’ MOTHER. Not long before his tragic death, Mr. Lincoln said: “All that I am, and all that I hope to be, I owe to my mother.” That mother died when little Abe was nine years of age. But she had already woven the texture of her deepest character into the habits and purposes of her boy. Her own origin had been humble. But there were certain elements in her character that prepared her for grand motherhood. When Nancy Hanks, at the age of twenty-three, gave her heart and hand to Thomas Lincoln, she was a young woman of large trustfulness, of loving, unselfish disposition, of profound faith in Divine Providence, of unswerving Christian profession. On the day of their marriage Thomas Lincoln took this young wife to his unfinished cabin, which had as yet neither door, floor, nor window. The young man was a shiftless Kentucky hunter, who could not read a word. He was handy with his few carpenter tools, but had received no encouragement to keep at work. His happy, trusting wife assisted him to finish the cabin. He mortared the chinks with mud which they together had mixed. Her hope and song made the work of the day his happy employ. In the evening she taught him to read, spelling the words out of her Bible as the text book, which served her double purpose. From that day Thomas Lincoln was a new man. It was this conscientious wife that inspired him to move across the Ohio into the free State of Indiana. Here Lincoln soon became a justice of the peace. When this wife died, only twelve years after their marriage, Thomas Lincoln had been transformed from the shiftless hunter, who could not read, to an intelligent farmer of the largest influence of any man in his township. Little Abe had been taught to read out of that same Bible, and had read out of that mother’s eyes and voice her large trust in the overshadowing Providence and her unswerving honesty in doing the right. It was this woman that put into his hands the fine books—the Bible, Pilgrim’s [31] [32] [33] [34] Progress, Æsop’s Fables, Robinson Crusoe, and Weems’s Life of Washington. Such was the mother that started Abraham Lincoln. “Widow Johnston,” who became his stepmother, was a good woman, with whom he always maintained the kindest relations. She deserved the honorable mention she received. LINCOLN’S MELANCHOLIA. A friend of Lincoln writes: Lincoln’s periods of melancholy are proverbial. On one occasion, while in court in 1855, Maj. H. C. Whitney describes him as “sitting alone in one corner of the room remote from any one else, wrapped in abstraction and gloom. It was a sad but interesting study for me, and I watched him for some time. It appeared as if he were pursuing in his mind some sad subject through various sinuosities, and his face would assume at times the deepest phases of seeming pain, but no relief came from this dark and despairing melancholy till he was roused by the breaking up of court, when he emerged from his cave of gloom and came back, like one awakened from sleep, to the world in which he lived again.” As early as 1837 Robert L. Wilson, who was his colleague in the legislature, testifies that Lincoln admitted to him that, although he appeared to enjoy life rapturously, still he was the victim of extreme melancholy, and that he was so overcome at times by depression of spirits that he never dared carry a pocketknife. To physicians he was something of a physiological puzzle. John T. Stuart insisted that his digestion was organically defective, so that the pores of his skin oftentimes performed the functions of the bowels; that his liver operated abnormally and failed to secrete bile, and that these things themselves were sufficient in his opinion to produce the deepest mental depression and melancholy. Lincoln’s law partner, Mr. Herndon, attributed Lincoln’s melancholy to the death of Anna Rutledge, believing that his grief at her untimely death was so intense that it cast a perpetual shadow over his mental horizon. Another believed that it arose from his domestic environments; that his family relations were far from pleasant, and that that unhappy feature of his life was a constant menace to his peace and perfect equipoise of spirits. “Although married,” says one, “he was not mated, so that if we see him come into his office in the morning eating cheese and bologna sausages philosophically, what can we expect but some periods of sadness and gloom? Emerson, who you and I hold in high esteem, had pie for breakfast all his married life, and in my opinion that is what clouded his memory the rest of his life after seventy years of age.” LINCOLN’S HEIGHT. Emma Gurley Adams in the New York Press. Sir:—The admirable speech of Hon. Thomas B. Reed in your paper of Feb. 9 contains one error which I would like to correct. Mr. Reed says Mr. Lincoln was six feet four inches in height. Mr. Lincoln told my father that he was exactly six feet three inches only a short time before his tragic death. Mr. Lincoln was very fond of tall men, and generally knew their exact height and never hesitated to say: “I am exactly six feet three.” HOW LINCOLN BECAME A LAWYER. That Lincoln was a skilled lawyer is well known. It is not, however, generally known that he learned law himself, never having studied with anyone, or having attended any law school. He was preëminently a self-educated man. He borrowed law books of his friend Stuart, of Springfield, Ill., took them home (twenty miles away) and studied them hard. He walked all the way to Springfield and back, and usually read while walking. He often read aloud during these trips. Twenty years afterward, while he was a great lawyer and statesman, he gave this advice to a young man who asked him “how he could become a great lawyer.” “Get books, and read and study them carefully. Begin with Blackstone’s ‘Commentaries,’ and after reading carefully through, say twice, take up Chitty’s ‘Pleadings,’ Greenleaf’s ‘Evidence,’ and Story’s ‘Equity,’ in succession. Work, work, work is the main thing.” LINCOLN AS A LAWYER. When Lincoln became a lawyer, he carried to the bar his habitual honesty. His associates were often surprised by his utter disregard of self-interest, while they could but admire his conscientious defense of what he considered right. One day a stranger called to secure his services. “State your case,” said Lincoln. [35] [36] [37] A history of the case was given, when Lincoln astonished him by saying: “I cannot serve you; for you are wrong, and the other party is right.” “That is none of your business, if I hire and pay you for taking the case,” retorted the man. “Not my business!” exclaimed Lincoln. “My business is never to defend wrong, if I am a lawyer. I never undertake a case that is manifestly wrong.” “Well, you can make trouble for the fellow,” added the applicant. “Yes,” replied Lincoln, fully aroused, “there is no doubt but that I can gain the case for you, and set a whole neighborhood at loggerhead. I can distress a widowed mother and her six fatherless children, and thereby get for you six hundred dollars, which rightly belongs as much to the woman and her children as it does to you; but I won’t do it.” “Not for any amount of pay?” continued the stranger. “Not for all you are worth,” replied Lincoln. “You must remember that some things which are legally right are not morally right. I shall not take your case.” “I don’t care a snap whether you do or not!” exclaimed the man angrily, starting to go. “I will give you a piece of advice without charge,” added Lincoln. “You seem to be a sprightly, energetic man; I would advise you to make six hundred dollars some other way.” LINCOLN’S CONSCIENTIOUSNESS IN TAKING CASES. Even as early as 1852 Lincoln had acquired a reputation for story telling. When not busy during the session of the court he was “habitually whispering stories to his neighbors, frequently to the annoyance of Judge Davis, who presided over the Eighth circuit.” If Lincoln persisted too long the judge would rap on the chair and exclaim: “Come, come, Mr. Lincoln; I can’t stand this! There is no use trying to carry on two courts. I must adjourn mine or yours, and I think you will have to be the one.” As soon as the group had scattered the judge would call one of the men to him and ask: “What was that Lincoln was telling?” In his law practice Lincoln seems to have been singularly conscientious, his first effort being to try to arrange matters so as to avoid litigation. Nor would he assume a case that he felt was not founded upon right and justice. THE JURY UNDERSTOOD. Another one of these anecdotes is related in connection with a case involving a bodily attack. Mr. Lincoln defended, and told the jury that his client was in the fix of a man who, in going along the highway with a pitchfork over his shoulder, was attacked by a fierce dog that ran out at him from a farmer’s door-yard. In parrying off the brute with the fork its prongs stuck into him and killed him. “What made you kill my dog?” said the farmer. “What made him bite me?” “But why did you not go after him with the other end of the pitchfork?” “Why did he not come at me with his other end?” At this Mr. Lincoln whirled about in his long arms an imaginary dog and pushed his tail end towards the jury. This was the defensive plea of “Son assault demesne”—loosely, that “The other fellow brought on the fight”—quickly told and in a way the dullest mind would grasp and retain. LINCOLN’S HONESTY WITH A LADY CLIENT. A lady who had a real estate claim which she desired prosecuted once called on Lincoln and wished him to take up her case. She left the claim in his hands, together with a check for two hundred dollars as a retaining fee. Lincoln told her to call the next day, and meanwhile he would examine her claim. Upon presenting herself the next day the lady was informed that he had examined the case carefully, and told her frankly that she had no valid or legal grounds on which to base her claim. He therefore could not advise her to institute legal proceedings. The lady was satisfied, and thanking him, rose to leave. “Wait,” said Lincoln, at the same time fumbling in his vest pocket, “here is the check you left with me.” “But, Mr. Lincoln, I think you have earned that,” replied the lady. [38] [39] [40] “No, no,” he responded, handing it back to her, “that would not be right. I can’t take pay for doing my duty.”— From Lincoln’s Stories, by J. B. McClure. LINCOLN WINS A CELEBRATED CASE. The son of Lincoln’s old friend and former employer, who had loaned him books, was charged with a murder committed in a riot at a camp-meeting. Lincoln volunteered for the defense. A witness swore that he saw the prisoner strike the fatal blow. It was night, but he swore that the full moon was shining clear, and he saw everything distinctly. The case seemed hopeless, but Lincoln produced an almanac, and showed that at that hour there was no moon. “Then he depicted the crime of perjury with such eloquence that the false witness fled the court house.” One who heard the trial says: “It was near night when Lincoln concluded, saying, ‘If justice was done, before the sun set it would shine upon his client a free man.’” The court charged the jury; they returned and brought in a verdict of “not guilty.” The prisoner fell into his weeping mother’s arms, says the writer, and then turned to thank Lincoln. The latter, looking out at the sun, said: “It is not yet sundown, and you are free.”—From Lincoln’s Stories, by J. B. McClure. LINCOLN’S “SELFISHNESS.” Mr. Lincoln once remarked to a fellow-passenger on the old-time mud-wagon coach, on the corduroy road which antedated railroads, that all m...