LINCOLN’S FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH ANN RUTLEDGE.—THE STORY OF THEIR LOVE.
In the spring of 1835 the young representative from Sangamon returned to
New Salem to take up his duties as postmaster and deputy surveyor, and
to resume his law studies. He exchanged his rather exalted position for
the humbler one, with a light heart. New Salem held all that was dearest
in the world to him at that moment, and he went back to the poor little
town with a hope, which he had once supposed honor forbade his
acknowledging even to himself, glowing warmly in his heart. He loved a
young girl of the village, and now for the first time, though he had
known her since he first came to New Salem, was he free to tell his
love.
One of the most prominent families of the settlement in 1831, when
Lincoln first appeared there, was that of James Rutledge. The head of
the house was one of the founders of New Salem, and at that time the
keeper of the village tavern. He was a high-minded man, of a warm and
generous nature, and had the universal respect of the community. He was
a South Carolinian by birth, but had lived many years in Kentucky before
coming to Illinois. Rutledge came of a distinguished family: one of his
ancestors signed the Declaration of Independence; another was Chief
Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States by appointment of
Washington, and another was a conspicuous leader in the American
Congress.
[Illustration:
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1858.
From an ambrotype owned by Miss Hattie Gilmer of Pittsfield, Illinois.
The Gilmer ambrotype was taken by C. Jackson, in Pittsfield, October
1, 1858, during the Lincoln and Douglas campaign, immediately after
Lincoln had made a speech in the public square. Lincoln was the
guest of his friend D. H. Gilmer, a lawyer. He sat for two pictures,
one of which was finished for Mr. Gilmer. The other picture is
supposed to have been destroyed.
]
The third of the nine children in the Rutledge household was a daughter,
Ann Mayes, born in Kentucky, January 7, 1813. When Lincoln first met her
she was nineteen years old, and as fresh as a flower. Many of those who
knew her at that time have left tributes to her beauty and gentleness,
and even to-day there are those living who talk of her with moistened
eyes and softened tones. “She was a beautiful girl,” says her cousin,
James McGrady Rutledge, “and as bright as she was pretty. She was well
educated for that early day, a good conversationalist, and always gentle
and cheerful; a girl whose company people liked.” So fair a maid was
not, of course, without suitors. The most determined of those who sought
her hand was one John McNeill, a young man who had arrived in New Salem
from New York soon after the founding of the town. Nothing was known of
his antecedents, and no questions were asked. He was understood to be
merely one of the thousands who had come West in search of fortune. That
he was intelligent, industrious, and frugal, with a good head for
business, was at once apparent; for he and Samuel Hill opened a general
store, and they soon doubled their capital, and their business continued
to grow remarkably. In four years from his first appearance in the
settlement, besides having a half-interest in the store, McNeill owned a
large farm a few miles north of New Salem. His neighbors believed him to
be worth about twelve thousand dollars.
[Illustration:
TWO NEW SALEM CHAIRS.
Now owned by Mrs. Samuel Hill, Petersburg, Illinois.
]
ANN RUTLEDGE’S ENGAGEMENT TO JOHN McNEILL.
John McNeill was an unmarried man—at least so he represented himself to
be—and very soon after becoming a resident of New Salem he formed the
acquaintance of Ann Rutledge, then a girl of seventeen. It was a case of
love at first sight, and the two soon became engaged, in spite of the
rivalry of Samuel Hill, McNeill’s partner. But Ann was as yet only a
young girl; and it was thought very sensible in her, and very gracious
and considerate in her lover, that both acquiesced in the wishes of
Ann’s parents that, for some time, at least, the marriage be postponed.
[Illustration:
MAJOR JOHN T. STUART, THE MAN WHO INDUCED LINCOLN TO STUDY LAW.
After a photograph owned by his widow, Mary Nash Stuart, Springfield,
Illinois. John T. Stuart was born in Fayette County, Kentucky, seven
miles east of Lexington, November 10, 1807. He was a son of Robert
Stuart, a Presbyterian minister, and professor of languages in
Transylvania University. His mother’s maiden name was Hannah Todd.
She was a daughter of General Levi Todd, and a sister of Robert S.
Todd, the father of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln. John T. Stuart graduated
at Center College, Danville, Kentucky, in 1826, and after studying
law in Richmond, Kentucky, he went to Springfield, Illinois. This
was in 1828. Here he at once began the practice of the law. In the
Black Hawk War he was major of the battalion in which Lincoln
commanded a company, and here his acquaintance with Lincoln seems to
have been formed. In 1832 he was elected a representative in the
State legislature, and was reëlected in 1834. In 1836 he was an
unsuccessful Whig candidate for Congress. Two years later he was
again a candidate, and this time was elected, defeating Stephen A.
Douglas. He was reëlected in 1840. Lincoln, upon his removal to
Springfield in the spring of 1837, became Major Stuart’s law
partner. The partnership continued until April 14, 1841, when
Lincoln became the partner of Judge Stephen T. Logan. For many years
Major Stuart was the senior member of the law firm of Stuart,
Edwards and Brown, the two other members being Benjamin S. Edwards
and Christopher C. Brown. In 1837, at Jacksonville, Illinois, he was
married to Mary V. Nash, who is still living. Major Stuart died in
1885.
]
Such was the situation when Lincoln appeared in New Salem. He naturally
soon became acquainted with the girl. She was a pupil in Mentor Graham’s
school, where he frequently visited, and rumor says that he first met
her there. However that may be, it is certain that in the latter part of
1832 he went to board at the Rutledge tavern, and there was thrown daily
into her company.
During the next year, 1833, John McNeill, in spite of his fair
prospects, became restless and discontented. He wanted to see his
people, he said, and before the end of the year he had decided to go
East for a visit. To secure perfect freedom from his business while
gone, he sold out his interest in the store. To Ann he said that he
hoped to bring back his father and mother, and to place them on his
farm. “This duty done,” was his farewell word, “you and I will be
married.” In the spring of 1834 McNeill started East. The journey
overland by foot and horse was in those days a trying one, and on the
way McNeill fell ill with chills and fever. It was late in the summer
before he reached his home and wrote back to Ann, explaining his
silence. The long wait had been a severe strain on the girl, and Lincoln
had watched her anxiety with softened heart. It was to him, the New
Salem postmaster, that she came to inquire for letters. It was to him
she entrusted those she sent. In a way the postmaster must have become
the girl’s confidant; and his tender heart, which never could resist
suffering, must have been deeply touched. After the long silence was
broken, and McNeill’s first letter of explanation came, the cause of
anxiety seemed removed; but, strangely enough, other letters followed
only at long intervals, and finally they ceased altogether. Then it was
that the young girl told her friends a secret which McNeill had confided
to her before leaving New Salem.
[Illustration:
A WAYSIDE WELL NEAR NEW SALEM, KNOWN AS “ANN RUTLEDGE’S WELL.”
]
He had told her what she had never even suspected before, that John
McNeill was not his real name, but that it was John McNamar. Shortly
before he came to New Salem, he explained, his father had suffered a
disastrous failure in business. He was the oldest son; and in the hope
of retrieving the lost fortune, he resolved to go West, expecting to
return in a few years and share his riches with the rest of the family.
Anticipating parental opposition, he ran away from home; and, being sure
that he could never accumulate anything with so numerous a family to
support, he endeavored to lose himself by a change of name. All this Ann
had believed and not repeated; but now, worn out by waiting, she took
her secret to her friends.
With few exceptions, they pronounced the story a fabrication and McNamar
an impostor. Why had he worn this mask? His excuse seemed flimsy. At
best, they declared, he was a mere adventurer; and was it not more
probable that he was a fugitive from justice—a thief, a swindler, or a
murderer? And who knew how many wives he might have? With all New Salem
declaring John McNamar false, Ann Rutledge could hardly be blamed for
imagining that he either was dead or that he had ceased to love her.
ANN’S ENGAGEMENT TO LINCOLN.
It was not until McNeill, or McNamar, had been gone many months, and
gossip had become offensive, that Lincoln ventured to show his love for
Ann, and then it was a long time before the girl would listen to his
suit. Convinced at last, however, that her former lover had deserted
her, she yielded to Lincoln’s wishes, and promised, in the spring of
1835, soon after Lincoln’s return from Vandalia, to become his wife. But
Lincoln had nothing on which to support a family—indeed, he found it no
trifling task to support himself. As for Ann, she was anxious to go to
school another year. It was decided that in the autumn she should go
with her brother to Jacksonville and spend the winter there in an
academy. Lincoln was to devote himself to his law studies; and the next
spring, when she returned from school and he was a member of the bar,
they were to be married.
A happy spring and summer followed. New Salem took a cordial interest in
the two lovers, and presaged a happy life for them; and all would
undoubtedly have gone well if the young girl could have dismissed the
haunting memory of her old lover. The possibility that she had wronged
him; that he might reappear; that he loved her still, though she now
loved another; that perhaps she had done wrong—a torturing conflict of
memory, love, conscience, doubt, and morbidness lay like a shadow across
her happiness, and wore upon her until she fell ill. Gradually her
condition became hopeless; and Lincoln, who had been shut from her, was
sent for. The lovers passed an hour alone in an anguished parting, and
soon after, on August 25, 1835, Ann died.
[Illustration:
LINCOLN IN 1858.
After a photograph owned by Mrs. Harriet Chapman of Charleston,
Illinois. Mrs. Chapman is a granddaughter of Sarah Bush Lincoln,
Lincoln’s step-mother. Her son, Mr. R. N. Chapman of Charleston,
Illinois, writes us: “In 1858 Lincoln and Douglas had a series of
joint debates in this State, and this city was one place of meeting.
Mr. Lincoln’s step-mother was making her home with my father and
mother at that time. Mr. Lincoln stopped at our house, and as he was
going away my mother said to him: ‘Uncle Abe, I want a picture of
you.’ He replied, ‘Well, Harriet, when I get home I will have one
taken for you and send it to you.’ Soon after, mother received the
photograph, which she still has, already framed, from Springfield,
Illinois, with a letter from Mr. Lincoln, in which he said, ‘This is
not a very good-looking picture, but it’s the best that could be
produced from the poor subject.’ He also said that he had it taken
solely for my mother. The photograph is still in its original frame,
and I am sure is the most perfect and best picture of Lincoln in
existence. We suppose it must have been taken in Springfield,
Illinois.”
]
[Illustration:
FACSIMILE OF A LEGAL OPINION BY LINCOLN.—NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.
From the original, in the possession of Z. A. Enos, Springfield,
Illinois. In a convention of surveyors, held at Springfield in 1859,
the question was much discussed whether the act of Congress of
February 11, 1805, relating to surveys, was intended to control all
future surveys and subdivisions of the government lands. It was
decided to submit the question to a lawyer for an opinion. Mr.
Lincoln was selected, for the reason not only that he was a lawyer
of recognized ability, but also because he had been a practical
surveyor. A committee having waited upon him, he wrote out the
opinion of which a facsimile is here presented. Mr. Enos, who holds
the original document, was an active participant in the convention
to which this opinion was rendered.
]
[Illustration:
JAMES McGRADY RUTLEDGE, A COUSIN OF ANN RUTLEDGE.
James McGrady Rutledge, son of William Rutledge, is now past
eighty-one years of age, having been born in Kentucky, September 29,
1814. He is now a resident of Petersburg. He is active and
remarkably free from the infirmities of age. When a boy, with a yoke
of oxen, he hauled the logs for the construction of the mill and the
dam at New Salem and for some of the cabins of the village. “‘Rile’
Clary and I carried chain for Lincoln many a time,” he says; “‘Rile’
going foremost and I following. We became accustomed to it and
Lincoln preferred us.” Ann Rutledge and her cousin were nearly the
same age, and being thoroughly congenial, she made a confidant of
him. They were much in each other’s company, and Ann often talked to
him of Lincoln. “Everybody was happy with Ann,” says Mr. Rutledge.
“She was of a cheerful disposition, seeming to enjoy life, and
helping others enjoy it.”
]
The death of Ann Rutledge plunged Lincoln into the deepest gloom. That
abiding melancholy, that painful sense of the incompleteness of life,
which had been his mother’s dowry to him, asserted itself. It filled and
darkened his mind and his imagination, tortured him with its black
pictures. One stormy night he was sitting beside William Greene, his
head bowed on his hand, while tears trickled through his fingers; his
friend begged him to control his sorrow, to try to forget. “I cannot,”
moaned Lincoln; “the thought of the snow and rain on her grave fills me
with indescribable grief.”
He was found walking alone by the river and through the woods, muttering
strange things to himself. He seemed to his friends to be in the shadow
of madness. They kept a close watch over him; and at last Bowling Green,
one of the most devoted friends Lincoln then had, took him home to his
little log cabin, half a mile north of New Salem, under the brow of a
big bluff.
Here, under the loving care of Green and his good wife Nancy, Lincoln
remained until he was once more master of himself.
But though he had regained self-control, his grief was deep and bitter.
Ann Rutledge was buried in Concord cemetery, a country burying-ground
seven miles northwest of New Salem. To this lonely spot Lincoln
frequently journeyed to weep over her grave. “My heart is buried there,”
he said to one of his friends.
When McNamar returned (for McNamar’s story was true, and, two months
after Ann Rutledge died, he drove into New Salem, with his widowed
mother and his brothers and sisters in the “prairie schooner” beside
him) and learned of Ann’s death, he “saw Lincoln at the post-office,” as
he afterward said, and “he seemed desolate and sorely distressed.” On
himself, apparently, her death produced no deep impression. Within a
year he married another woman; and his conduct toward Ann Rutledge is to
this day a mystery.
Many years ago a sister of Ann Rutledge, Mrs. Jeane Berry, told what she
knew of Ann’s love affairs; and her statement has been preserved in a
diary kept by the Rev. R. D. Miller, now Superintendent of Schools of
Menard County, with whom she had the conversation. She declared that
Ann’s “whole soul seemed wrapped up in Lincoln,” and that they “would
have been married in the fall or early winter” if Ann had lived. “After
Ann died,” said Mrs. Berry, “I remember that it was common talk about
how sad Lincoln was; and I remember myself how sad he looked. They told
me that every time he was in the neighborhood after she died, he would
go alone to her grave and sit there in silence for hours.”
In later life, when his sorrow had become a memory, he told a friend who
questioned him: “I really and truly loved the girl and think often of
her now.” There was a pause, and then he added: “And I have loved the
name of Rutledge to this day.”