LINCOLN IS APPOINTED POSTMASTER.—HE LEARNS SURVEYING, AND IS APPOINTED
DEPUTY SURVEYOR.—THE FIRST WORK HE DID IN HIS NEW PROFESSION.—WHAT HE
EARNED.
Even after the license was granted, however, business was not so brisk
in Berry and Lincoln’s store that the junior partner did not welcome an
appointment as postmaster which he received in May, 1833. The
appointment of a Whig by a Democratic administration seems to have been
made without comment. “The office was too insignificant to make his
politics an objection,” say the autobiographical notes. The duties of
the new office were not arduous, for letters were few, and their comings
far between. At that date the mails were carried by four-horse
post-coaches from city to city, and on horseback from central points
into the country towns. The rates of postage were high. A single-sheet
letter carried thirty miles or under cost six cents; thirty to eighty
miles, ten cents; eighty to one hundred and fifty miles, twelve and
one-half cents; one hundred and fifty to four hundred miles, eighteen
and one-half cents; over four hundred miles, twenty-five cents. A copy
of this magazine sent from New York to New Salem would have cost fully
twenty-five cents. The mail was irregular in coming as well as light in
its contents. Though supposed to arrive twice a week, it sometimes
happened that a fortnight or more passed without any mail. Under these
conditions the New Salem post-office was not a serious care.
[Illustration:
BERRY AND LINCOLN’S STORE IN 1895.—NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.
From a recent photograph by C. S. McCullough, Petersburg, Illinois.
The little frame store building occupied by Berry and Lincoln at New
Salem is now standing at Petersburg, Illinois, in the rear of L. W.
Bishop’s gun-shop. Its history after 1834 is somewhat obscure, but
there is no reason for doubting its identity. According to tradition
it was bought by Robert Bishop, the father of the present owner,
about 1835, from Mr. Lincoln himself; but it is difficult to
reconcile this legend with the sale of the store to the Trent
brothers, unless, upon the flight of the latter from the country and
the closing of the store, the building, through the leniency of
creditors, was allowed to revert to Mr. Lincoln, in which event he
no doubt sold it at the first opportunity, and applied the proceeds
to the payment of the debts of the firm. When Mr. Bishop bought the
store building, he removed it to Petersburg. It is said that the
removal was made in part by Lincoln himself; that the job was first
undertaken by one of the Bales, but that, encountering some
difficulty, he called upon Lincoln to assist him, which Lincoln did.
The structure was first set up adjacent to Mr. Bishop’s house, and
converted into a gun-shop. Later it was removed to a place on the
public square; and soon after the breaking out of the late war, Mr.
Bishop, erecting a new building, pushed Lincoln’s store into the
back yard, and there it still stands. Soon after the assassination
of Mr. Lincoln, the front door was presented to some one in
Springfield, and has long since been lost sight of. It is remembered
by Mr. Bishop that in this door there was an opening for the
reception of letters—a circumstance of importance as tending to
establish the genuineness of the building, when it is remembered
that Lincoln was postmaster while he kept the store. The structure,
as it stands to-day, is about eighteen feet long, twelve feet in
width, and ten feet in height. The back room, however, has
disappeared, so that the building as it stood when occupied by Berry
and Lincoln was somewhat longer. Of the original building there only
remain the frame-work, the black walnut weather-boarding on the
front end, and the ceiling of sycamore boards. One entire side has
been torn away by relic-hunters. In recent years the building has
been used as a sort of store-room. Just after a big fire in
Petersburg some time ago, the city council condemned the Lincoln
store building and ordered it demolished. Under this order a portion
of one side was torn down, when Mr. Bishop persuaded the city
authorities to desist, upon giving a guarantee that if Lincoln’s
store ever caught fire, he would be responsible for any loss which
might ensue.
]
[Illustration:
LINCOLN EARLY IN 1861.—PROBABLY THE EARLIEST PORTRAIT SHOWING HIM WITH
A BEARD.
From a photograph in the collection of H. W. Fay of De Kalb, Illinois,
taken probably in Springfield early in 1861. It is supposed to have
been the first, or at least one of the first, portraits made of Mr.
Lincoln after he began to wear a beard. As is well known, his face
was smooth until about the end of 1860; and when he first allowed
his beard to grow, it became a topic of newspaper comment, and even
of caricature. A pretty story relating to Lincoln’s adoption of a
beard is more or less familiar. A letter written to the authors of
this Life, under date of December 6, 1895, by Mrs. Grace Bedell
Billings, tells this story, of which she herself as a little girl
was the heroine, in a most charming way:
DELPHOS, KANSAS, _December 6, 1895_.
In reply to your letter of recent date inquiring about the incident of
my childhood and connected with Mr. Lincoln, I would say that at the
time of his first nomination to the Presidency I was a child of
eleven years, living with my parents in Chautauqua County, New York.
My father was an ardent Republican, and possessed of a profound
admiration for the character of the grand man who was the choice of
his party. We younger children accepted his opinions with
unquestioning faith, and listened with great delight to the
anecdotes of his life current at that time, and were particularly
interested in reading of the difficulties he encountered in getting
an education. So much did it appeal to our childish imaginations
that _we_ were firmly persuaded that if we could only study our
lessons prone before the glow and cheer of an open fire in a great
fireplace, _we_ too might rise to heights which now we could never
attain. My father brought to us, one day, a large poster, and my
mind still holds a recollection, of its crude, coarse work and
glaring colors. About the edges were grouped in unadorned and
exaggerated ugliness the pictures of our former Presidents, and in
the midst of them were the faces of “Lincoln and Hamlin,” surrounded
by way of a frame with a rail fence. We are all familiar with the
strong and rugged face of Mr. Lincoln; the deep lines about the
mouth, and the eyes have much the same sorrowful expression in all
the pictures I have seen of him. I think I must have felt a certain
disappointment, for I said to my mother that he would look much
nicer if he wore whiskers; and straightway gave him the benefit of
my opinion in a letter, describing the poster, and hinting, rather
broadly, that his appearance might be improved if he would let his
whiskers grow. Not wishing to wound his feelings, I added that the
rail fence around his picture looked real pretty! I also asked him
if he had any little girl, and if so, and he was too busy to write
and tell me what he thought about it, if he would not let her do so;
and ended by assuring him I meant to try my best to induce two
erring brothers of the Democratic faith to cast their votes for him.
I think the circumstance would have speedily passed from my mind but
for the fact that I confided to an elder sister that I had written
to Mr. Lincoln, and had she not expressed a doubt as to whether I
had addressed him properly. To prove that I had, and was not as
ignorant as she thought me, I rewrote the address for her
inspection: “_Hon. Abraham Lincoln Esquire._”
My mortification at the laughter and ridicule excited was somewhat
relieved by my mother’s remarking that “there would be no mistake as
to whom the letter belonged.” The reply to my poor little letter
came in due time, and the following is a copy of the original, which
is _still in my possession_.
“_Private._
“SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, _October 19, 1860_.
“MISS GRACE BEDELL.
“_My Dear little Miss_:—Your very agreeable letter of the 15th inst.
is received. I regret the necessity of saying I have no daughter. I
have three sons; one seventeen, one nine, and one seven years of
age. They, with their mother, constitute my whole family. As to the
whiskers, having never worn any, do you not think people would call
it a piece of silly affectation if I were to begin wearing them now?
Your very sincere well-wisher,
“A. LINCOLN.”
Probably the frankness of the child appealed to the humorous side of
his nature, for the suggestion was acted upon. After the election,
and on his journey from Springfield to Washington, he inquired of
Hon. G. W. Patterson, who was one of the party who accompanied him
on that memorable trip, and who was a resident of our town, if he
knew of a family bearing the name of Bedell. Mr. Patterson replying
in the affirmative, Mr. Lincoln said he had “received a letter from
a little girl called Grace Bedell, advising me to wear whiskers, as
she thought it would improve my looks.” He said the character of the
“letter was so unique, and so different from the many self-seeking
and threatening ones he was daily receiving, that it came to him as
a relief and a pleasure.” When the train reached Westfield, Mr.
Lincoln made a short speech from the platform of the car, and in
conclusion said he had a correspondent there, relating the
circumstance and giving my name, and if she were present he would
like to see her. I was present, but in the crowd had neither seen
nor heard the speaker; but a gentleman helped me forward, and Mr.
Lincoln stepped down to the platform where I stood, shook my hand,
kissed me, and said: “You see I let these whiskers grow for you,
Grace.” The crowd cheered, Mr. Lincoln reëntered the car, and I ran
quickly home, looking at and speaking to no one, with a much
dilapidated bunch of roses in my hand, which I had hoped might be
passed up to Mr. Lincoln with some other flowers which were to be
presented, but which in my confusion I had forgotten. Gentle and
genial, simple and warm-hearted, how full of anxiety must have been
his life in the days which followed! These words seem to fitly
describe him: “A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”
Very sincerely,
GRACE BEDELL BILLINGS.
]
A large number of the patrons of the office lived in the country—many of
them miles away—but generally Lincoln delivered the letters at their
doors. These letters he would carefully place in the crown of his hat,
and distribute them from house to house. Thus it was in a measure true
that he kept the New Salem post-office in his hat. The habit of carrying
papers in his hat clung to Lincoln; for, many years later, when he was a
practising lawyer in Springfield, he apologized for failing to answer a
letter promptly, by explaining: “When I received your letter I put it in
my old hat, and buying a new one the next day, the old one was set
aside, and so the letter was lost sight of for a time.”
But whether the mail was delivered by the postmaster himself, or the
recipient came to the store to inquire, “Anything for me?” it was the
habit “to stop and visit awhile.” He who received a letter read it and
told the contents; if he had a newspaper, usually the postmaster could
tell him in advance what it contained, for one of the perquisites of the
early postmaster was the privilege of reading all printed matter before
delivering it. Every day, then, Lincoln’s acquaintance in New Salem,
through his position as postmaster, became more intimate.
[Illustration:
FACSIMILE OF A TAVERN LICENSE ISSUED TO BERRY AND LINCOLN MARCH 6,
1833, BY THE COUNTY COMMISSIONERS’ COURT OF SANGAMON COUNTY.
The only tavern in New Salem in 1833 was that kept by James Rutledge—a
two-story log structure of five rooms, standing just across the
street from Berry and Lincoln’s store. Here Lincoln boarded. It
seems entirely probable that he may have had an ambition to get into
the tavern business, and that he and Berry obtained a license with
that end in view, possibly hoping to make satisfactory terms for the
purchase of the Rutledge hostelry. The tavern of sixty years ago,
besides answering the purposes of the modern hotel, was the dramshop
of the frontier. The business was one which, in Illinois, the law
strictly regulated. Tavern-keepers were required to pay a license
fee, and to give bonds to insure their good behavior. Minors were
not to be harbored, nor did the law permit liquor to be sold to
them; and the sale to slaves of any liquors “or strong drink, mixed
or unmixed, either within or without doors,” was likewise forbidden.
Nor could the poor Indian get any “fire-water” at the tavern or the
grocery. If a tavern-keeper violated the law, two-thirds of the fine
assessed against him went to the poor people of the county. The
Rutledge tavern was the only one at New Salem of which we have any
authentic account. There were other landlords besides Mr. Rutledge;
but nothing can be more certain than that Lincoln was not one of
them. The few surviving inhabitants of the vanished village, and of
the country round about, have a clear recollection of Berry and
Lincoln’s store; but not one has been found with the faintest
remembrance of a tavern kept by Lincoln, or by Berry, or by both.
Stage passengers jolting into New Salem sixty-two years ago must, if
Lincoln was inn-keeper, have partaken of his hospitality by the
score; but if they did, they all died many, many years ago, or have
all maintained an unaccountable and most perplexing silence.
]
A NEW OPENING.
As the summer of 1833 went on, the condition of the store became more
and more unsatisfactory. As the position of postmaster brought in only a
small revenue, Lincoln was forced to take any odd work he could get. He
helped in other stores in the town, split rails, and looked after the
mill; but all this yielded only a scant and uncertain support, and when
in the fall he had an opportunity to learn surveying, he accepted it
eagerly.
The condition of affairs in Illinois in the thirties made a demand for
the services of surveyors. The immigration had been phenomenal. There
were thousands of farms to be surveyed and thousands of corners to be
located. Speculators bought up large tracts, and mapped out cities on
paper. It was years before the first railroad was built in Illinois,
and, as all inland travelling was on horseback or in the stage-coach,
each year hundreds of miles of wagon road were opened through woods and
swamps and prairies. As the county of Sangamon was large, and eagerly
sought by immigrants, the county surveyor in 1833, one John Calhoun,
needed deputies; but in a country so new it was no easy matter to find
men with the requisite capacity.
With Lincoln, Calhoun had little, if any, personal acquaintance, for
they lived twenty miles apart. Lincoln, however, had made himself known
by his meteoric race for the legislature in 1832, and Calhoun had heard
of him as an honest, intelligent, and trustworthy young man. One day he
sent word to Lincoln by Pollard Simmons, who lived in the New Salem
neighborhood, that he had decided to appoint him a deputy surveyor if he
would accept the position.
Going into the woods, Simmons found Lincoln engaged in his old
occupation of making rails. The two sat down together on a log, and
Simmons told Lincoln what Calhoun had said. It was a surprise to
Lincoln. Calhoun was a “Jackson man;” he was for Clay. What did he know
about surveying, and why should a Democratic official offer him a
position of any kind? He immediately went to Springfield, and had a talk
with Calhoun. He would not accept the appointment, he said, unless he
had the assurance that it involved no political obligation, and that he
might continue to express his political opinions as freely and
frequently as he chose. This assurance was given. The only difficulty
then in the way was the fact that he knew absolutely nothing of
surveying. But Calhoun, of course, understood this, and agreed that he
should have time to learn.
With the promptness of action with which he always undertook anything he
had to do, he procured Flint and Gibson’s treatise on surveying, and
sought Mentor Graham for help. At a sacrifice of some time, the
school-master aided him to a partial mastery of the intricate subject.
Lincoln worked literally day and night, sitting up night after night
until the crowing of the cock warned him of the approaching dawn. So
hard did he study that his friends were greatly concerned at his haggard
face. But in six weeks he had mastered all the books within reach
relating to the subject—a task which, under ordinary circumstances,
would hardly have been achieved in as many months. Reporting to Calhoun
for duty (greatly to the amazement of that gentleman), he was at once
assigned to the territory in the northwest part of the county, and the
first work he did of which there is any authentic record was in January,
1834. In that month he surveyed a piece of land for Russell Godby,
dating the certificate January 14, 1834, and signing it “J. Calhoun, S.
S. C., by A. Lincoln.”
Lincoln was frequently employed in laying out public roads, being
selected for that purpose by the County Commissioners’ Court. So far as
can be learned from the official records, the first road he surveyed was
“from Musick’s Ferry, on Salt Creek, via New Salem, to the county line
in the direction of Jacksonville.” For this he was allowed fifteen
dollars for five days’ service, and two dollars and fifty cents for a
plat of the new road. The next road he surveyed, according to the
records, was that leading from Athens to Sangamon town. This was
reported to the County Commissioners’ Court, November 4, 1834. But road
surveying was only a small portion of his work. He was more frequently
employed by private individuals.
SURVEYING WITH A GRAPEVINE.
According to tradition, when he first took up the business he was too
poor to buy a chain, and, instead, used a long, straight grapevine.
Probably this is a myth, though surveyors who had experience in the
early days say it may be true. The chains commonly used at that time
were made of iron. Constant use wore away and weakened the links, and it
was no unusual thing for a chain to lengthen six inches after a year’s
use. “And a good grapevine,” to use the words of a veteran surveyor,
“would give quite as satisfactory results as one of those old-fashioned
chains.”
[Illustration:
THE STATE-HOUSE AT VANDALIA, ILLINOIS.—NOW USED AS A COURT-HOUSE.
Vandalia was the State capital of Illinois for twenty years, and three
different State-houses were built and occupied there. The first, a
two-story frame structure, was burned down December 9, 1823. The
second was a brick building, and was erected at a cost of twelve
thousand, three hundred and eighty-one dollars and fifty cents, of
which the citizens of Vandalia contributed three thousand dollars.
The agitation for the removal of the capital to Springfield began in
1833, and in the summer of 1836 the people of Vandalia, becoming
alarmed at the prospect of their little city’s losing its prestige
as the seat of the State government, tore down the old capitol (much
complaint being made about its condition), and put up a new one at a
cost of sixteen thousand dollars. The tide was too great to be
checked; but after the “Long Nine” had secured the passage of the
bill taking the capital to Springfield, the money which the Vandalia
people had expended was refunded. The State-house shown in this
picture was the third and last one. In it Lincoln served as a
legislator. Ceasing to be a capitol July 4, 1839, it was converted
into a court-house for Fayette County, and is still so used.
]
[Illustration:
DANIEL GREEN BURNER, BERRY AND LINCOLN’S CLERK.
From a recent photograph. Mr. Burner lived at New Salem from 1829 to
1834. Lincoln for many months lodged with his father, Isaac Burner.
He now lives on a farm near Galesburg, Illinois. Mr. Burner is over
eighty years of age.
]
[Illustration:
THE REV. JOHN M. CAMERON, A NEW SALEM FRIEND OF LINCOLN.
From a photograph in the possession of the Hon. W. J. Orendorff of
Canton, Illinois. John M. Cameron, a Cumberland Presbyterian
minister, and a devout, sincere, and courageous man, was held in the
highest esteem by his neighbors. Yet, according to Daniel Green
Burner, Berry and Lincoln’s clerk—and the fact is mentioned merely
as illustrating a universal custom among the pioneers—“John Cameron
always kept a barrel of whiskey in the house.” He was a powerful man
physically, and a typical frontiersman. He was born in Kentucky in
1791, and, with his wife, moved to Illinois in 1815. He settled in
Sangamon County in 1818, and in 1829 took up his abode in a cabin on
a hill overlooking the Sangamon River, and, with James Rutledge,
founded the town of New Salem. According to tradition, Lincoln for a
time lived with the Camerons. In the early thirties they moved to
Fulton County, Illinois; then, in 1841 or 1842, to Iowa; and
finally, in 1849, to California. In California they lived to a ripe
old age—Mrs. Cameron dying in 1875, and her husband following her
three years later. They had twelve children, eleven of whom were
girls. Mr. Cameron is said to have officiated at the funeral of Ann
Rutledge in 1835.
]
[Illustration:
JAMES SHORT, WHO SAVED LINCOLN’S HORSE AND SURVEYING INSTRUMENTS FROM
A CREDITOR.
From a photograph taken at Jacksonville, Illinois, about thirty years
ago. James Short lived on Sand Ridge, a few miles north of New
Salem. When Lincoln’s horse and surveying instruments were levied
upon by a creditor and sold, Mr. Short bought them in, and made
Lincoln a present of them. Lincoln, when President, made his old
friend an Indian agent in California. Mr. Short died in Iowa many
years ago. His acquaintance with Lincoln began in rather an
interesting way. His sister, who lived in New Salem, had made
Lincoln a pair of jeans trousers. The material supplied by Lincoln
was scant, and the trousers came out conspicuously short in the
legs. One day when James Short was visiting with his sister, he
pointed to a man walking down the street, and asked, “Who is that
man in the short breeches?” “That is Lincoln.” And Mr. Short went
out and introduced himself.
]
[Illustration:
SQUIRE COLEMAN SMOOT, ONE OF LINCOLN’S FIRST POLITICAL SUPPORTERS.
Coleman Smoot was born in Virginia, February 13, 1794; removed to
Kentucky when a child; married Rebecca Wright, March 17, 1817; came
to Illinois in 1831, and lived on a farm across the Sangamon River
from New Salem until his death, March 21, 1876. Lincoln met him for
the first time in Offutt’s store in 1831. “Smoot,” said Lincoln, “I
am disappointed in you; I expected to see a man as ugly as old
Probst,” referring to a man reputed to be the homeliest in the
county. “And I am disappointed,” replied Smoot; “I had expected to
see a good-looking man when I saw you.” After Lincoln’s election to
the legislature in 1834, he called on Smoot and said: “I want to buy
some clothes and fix up a little, and I want you to loan me two
hundred dollars.” The loan was cheerfully made, and, of course, was
subsequently repaid.
]
[Illustration:
SAMUEL HILL, AT WHOSE STORE LINCOLN KEPT THE POST-OFFICE.
From an old daguerreotype. Samuel Hill was among the earliest
inhabitants of New Salem. He opened a general store there in
partnership with John McNeill—the John McNeill who became betrothed
to Ann Rutledge, and whose real name was afterwards discovered to be
John McNamar. When McNeill left New Salem and went East, Mr. Hill
became sole proprietor of the store. He also owned the carding
machine at New Salem. Lincoln, after going out of the grocery
business, made his headquarters at Samuel Hill’s store. There he
kept the post-office, entertained the loungers, and on busy days
helped Mr. Hill wait on customers. Mr. Hill is said to have once
courted Ann Rutledge himself, but he did not receive the
encouragement which was bestowed upon his partner, McNeill. In 1835
he married Miss Parthenia W. Nance, who still lives at Petersburg.
In 1839 he moved his store to Petersburg, and died there in 1857.
]
[Illustration:
MARY ANN RUTLEDGE, MOTHER OF ANN MAYES RUTLEDGE.
From an old tintype. Mary Ann Rutledge was the wife of James Rutledge
and the mother of Ann. She was born October 21, 1787, and reared in
Kentucky. She lived to be ninety-one years of age, dying in Iowa,
December 26, 1878. The Rutledges left New Salem in 1833 or 1834,
moving to a farm a few miles northward. On this farm Ann Rutledge
died, August 25, 1835; and here also, three months later (December
3, 1835), died her father, broken-hearted, no doubt, by the
bereavement. In the following year the family moved to Fulton
County, Illinois, and some three years later to Birmingham, Iowa. Of
James Rutledge there is no portrait in existence. He was born in
South Carolina, May 11, 1781. He and his sons, John and David,
served in the Black Hawk War.
]
A GROUP OF LINCOLN’S OLD NEIGHBORS.
Lincoln’s surveys had the extraordinary merit of being correct. Much of
the government work had been rather indifferently done, or the
government corners had been imperfectly preserved, and there were
frequent disputes between adjacent landowners about boundary lines.
Frequently Lincoln was called upon in such cases to find the corner in
controversy. His verdict was invariably the end of the dispute, so
general was the confidence in his honesty and skill. Some of these old
corners located by him are still in existence. The people of Petersburg
proudly remember that they live in a town which was laid out by Lincoln.
This he did in 1836, and it was the work of several weeks.
Lincoln’s pay as a surveyor was three dollars a day, more than he had
ever before earned. Compared with the compensation for like services
nowadays, it seems small enough; but at that time it was really
princely. The governor of the State received a salary of only one
thousand dollars a year, the Secretary of State six hundred dollars, and
good board and lodging could be obtained for one dollar a week. But even
three dollars a day did not enable him to meet all his financial
obligations. The heavy debts of the store hung over him. He was obliged
to help his father’s family in Coles County. The long distances he had
to travel in his new employment had made it necessary to buy a horse,
and for it he had gone into debt.
“My father,” says Thomas Watkins of Petersburg, “sold Lincoln the horse,
and my recollection is that Lincoln agreed to pay him fifty dollars for
it. Lincoln was a little slow in making the payments, and after he had
paid all but ten dollars, my father, who was a high-strung man, became
impatient, and sued him for the balance. Lincoln, of course, did not
deny the debt, and raised the money and paid it. I do not often tell
this,” Mr. Watkins adds, “because I have always thought there never was
such a man as Lincoln, and I have always been sorry father sued him.”
[Illustration:
BOOT-JACK MADE AND USED BY LINCOLN WHEN A YOUNG MAN.
From Libby Prison Museum, Chicago, Illinois. By permission of C. F.
Gunther.
]
[Illustration:
FACSIMILE OF A LETTER AND RECEIPT WRITTEN BY LINCOLN WHILE POSTMASTER
AT NEW SALEM.
Reproduced by permission from “Menard-Salem-Lincoln Souvenir Album,”
Petersburg, 1893.
]