The departure of the _Talisman_ for deeper waters, the downfall of
Denton Offut's varied enterprises and his disappearance from New Salem,
followed in rapid succession, and before the spring of 1832 had merged
into summer Lincoln found himself a piece of "floating driftwood" again.
Where he might have lodged had not the Black Hawk war intervened can
only be a matter of conjecture. A glance at this novel period in his
life may not be out of keeping with the purpose of this book. The great
Indian chief, Black Hawk, who on the 30th of June, 1831, had entered
into an agreement, having all the solemnity of a treaty, with Governor
Reynolds and General Gaines that none of his tribe should ever cross the
Mississippi "to their usual place of residence, nor any part of their
old hunting grounds east of the Mississippi, without permission of
the President of the United States or the governor of the State of
Illinois," had openly broken the compact. On the 6th of April, 1832, he
recrossed the Mississippi and marched up Rock River Valley, accompanied
by about five hundred warriors on horseback; while his women and
children went up the river in canoes. The great chief was now
sixty-seven years old, and believed that his plots were all ripe and
his allies fast and true. Although warned by General Atkinson, then
in command of Fort Armstrong, against this aggression, and ordered to
return, he proudly refused, claiming that he had "come to plant corn."
On being informed of the movement of Black Hawk Governor Reynolds called
for a thousand mounted volunteers to co-operate with the United States
forces under command of General Atkinson, and drive the wily Indian back
across the Mississippi. The response to the governor's call was prompt
and energetic. In the company from Sangamon county Lincoln enlisted,
and now for the first time entered on the vicissitudinous and dangerous
life of a soldier. That he in fact regarded the campaign after the
Indians as a sort of holiday affair and chicken-stealing expedition is
clearly shown in a speech he afterwards made in Congress in exposure of
the military pretensions of General Cass. However, in grim, soldierly
severity he marched with the Sangamon county contingent to Rushville,*
in Schuyler county, where, much to his surprise, he was elected captain
of the company over William Kirkpatrick. A recital of the campaign that
followed, in the effort to drive the treacherous Indians back, or a
description of the few engagements--none of which reached the dignity
of a battle--which took place, have in no wise been overlooked by the
historians of Illinois and of the Black Hawk war. With the exception
of those things which relate to Lincoln alone I presume it would be
needless to attempt to add anything to what has so thoroughly and
truthfully been told.
* While at the rendezvous at Rushville and on the march to
the front Lincoln of course drilled his men, and gave them
such meager instruction in military tactics as he could
impart. Some of the most grotesque things he ever related
were descriptions of these drills. In marching one morning
at the head of the company, who were following in lines of
twenty abreast, it became necessary to pass through a gate
much narrower than the lines. The captain could not remember
the proper command to turn the company endwise, and the
situation was becoming decidedly embarrassing, when one of
those thoughts born of the depths of despair came to his
rescue. Facing the lines, he shouted: "Halt! This company
will break ranks for two minutes and form again on the other
side of the gate." The manouvre was successfully executed.
On being elected captain, Lincoln replied in a brief response of modest
and thankful acceptance. It was the first official trust ever turned
over to his keeping, and he prized it and the distinction it gave him
more than any which in after years fell to his lot. His company savored
strongly of the Clary's Grove order, and though daring enough in the
presence of danger, were difficult to bring down to the inflexibilities
of military discipline. Each one seemed perfectly able and willing to
care for himself, and while the captain's authority was respectfully
observed, yet, as some have said, they were none the less a crowd of
"generous ruffians." I heard Mr. Lincoln say once on the subject of his
career as captain in this company and the discipline he exercised over
his men, that to the first order given one of them he received the
response, "Go to the devil, sir!" Notwithstanding the interchange of
many such unsoldierlike civilities between the officer and his men,
a strong bond of affection united them together, and if a contest had
arisen over the conflict of orders between the United States authorities
and those emanating from Captain Lincoln or some other Illinois
officer--as at one time was threatened--we need not be told to which
side the Sangamon county company to a man would have gone. A general
order forbidding the discharge of firearms within fifty yards of the
camp was disobeyed by Captain Lincoln himself. For this violation of
rule he was placed under arrest and deprived of his sword for a day. But
this and other punishments in no way humiliated him in the esteem of
his men; if anything, they only clung the closer, and when Clary's Grove
friendship asserted itself, it meant that firm and generous attachment
found alone on the frontier--that bond, closer than the affinity of
blood, which becomes stronger as danger approaches death.
A soldier of the Sangamon county company broke into the officers'
quarters one night, and with the aid of a tomahawk and four buckets,
obtained by stealth a good supply of wines and liquors, which he
generously distributed to his appreciative comrades. The next morning at
daybreak, when the army began to move, the Sangamon county company,
much to their captain's astonishment, were unfit for the march. Their
nocturnal expedition had been too much for them, and one by one they
fell by the wayside, until but a mere handful remained to keep step with
their gallant and astounded captain. Those who fell behind gradually
overcame the effects of their carousal, but were hard pressed to
overtake the command, and it was far into the night when the last one
straggled into camp. The investigation which followed resulted only in
the captain suffering the punishment for the more guilty men. For this
infraction of military law he was put under arrest and made to carry
a wooden sword for two days, "and this too," as one of his company has
since assured me, "although he was entirely blameless in the matter."
Among the few incidents of Lincoln's career in the Black Hawk war that
have found a place in history was his manly interference to protect an
old Indian who strayed, hungry and helpless, into camp one day, and whom
the soldiers were conspiring to kill on the ground that he was a spy.
A letter from General Cass, recommending him for his past kind and
faithful services to the whites, which the trembling old savage drew
from beneath the folds of his blanket failed in any degree to appease
the wrath of the men who confronted him. They had come out to fight the
treacherous Indians, and here was one who had the temerity even to steal
into their camp. "Make an example of him," they exclaimed. "The letter
is a forgery and he is a spy." They might have put their threats into
execution had not the tall form of their captain, his face "swarthy
with resolution and rage," interposed itself between them and their
defenseless victim. Lincoln's determined look and demand that "it
must not be done" were enough. They sullenly desisted, and the Indian,
unmolested, continued on his way.
Lincoln's famous wrestling match with the redoubtable Thompson, a
soldier from Union county, who managed to throw him twice in succession,
caused no diminution in the admiration and pride his men felt in their
captain's muscle and prowess. They declared that unfair advantage had
been taken of their champion, that Thompson had been guilty of foul
tactics, and that, in the language of the sporting arena, it was a
"dog-fall." Lincoln's magnanimous action, however, in according his
opponent credit for fair dealing in the face of the wide-spread and
adverse criticism that prevailed, only strengthened him in the esteem of
all.*
* William L. Wilson, a survivor of the war, in a letter
under date of February 3, 1882, after detailing
reminiscences of Stillman's defeat, says: "I have during
that time had much fun with the afterwards President of the
United States, Abraham Lincoln. I remember one time of
wrestling with him, two best in three, and ditched him. He
was not satisfied, and we tried it in a foot-race for a
five-dollar bill. I won the money, and 'tis spent long ago.
And many more reminiscences could I give, but am of the
Quaker persuasion, and not much given to writing."
At times the soldiers were hard pressed for food, but by a combination
of ingenuity and labor in proportions known only to a volunteer soldier,
they managed to avoid the unpleasant results of long-continued and
unsatisfied hunger. "At an old Winnebago town called Turtle Village,"
narrates a member of the company, "after stretching our rations over
nearly four days, one of our mess, an old acquaintance of Lincoln, G. B.
Fanchier, shot a dove, and having a gill of flour left we made a gallon
and a half of delicious soup in an old tin bucket that had been lost by
Indians. This soup we divided among several messes that were hungrier
than we were and our own mess, by pouring in each man's cup a portion of
the esculent. Once more, at another time, in the extreme northern part
of Illinois, we had been very hungry for two days, but suddenly came
upon a new cabin at the edge of the prairie that the pioneer sovereign
squatter family had vacated and 'skedaddled' from for fear of losing
their scalps. There were plenty of chickens about the cabin, much
hungrier than we ourselves were, if poverty is to test the matter,
and the boys heard a voice saying 'Slay and eat.' They at once went to
running, clubbing, and shooting them as long as they could be found.
Whilst the killing was going on I climbed to the ridge-pole of the
smoke-house to see distinctly what I saw obscurely from the ground,
and behold! the cleanest, sweetest jole I ever saw--alone, half hid by
boards and ridge-pole, stuck up no doubt for future use. By this time
many of the chickens were on the fire, broiling, for want of grease or
gravy to fry them in. Some practical fellow proposed to throw in with
the fowls enough bacon to convert broiling into frying; the proposition
was adopted, and they were soon fried. We began to eat the tough, dry
chickens with alternating mouthfuls of the jole, when Lincoln came to
the repast with the query, 'Eating chicken, boys?' 'Not much, sir,' I
responded, for we had operated principally on the jole, it being
sweeter and more palatable than the chickens. 'It is much like eating
saddlebags,' he responded; 'but I think the stomach can accomplish much
to-day; but what have you got therewith the skeletons, George? 'We did
have a sweet jole of a hog, sir,' I answered, 'but you are nearly too
late for your share,' at the same time making room for him to approach
the elm-bark dish. He ate the bacon a moment, then commenced dividing by
mouthfuls to the boys from other messes, who came to 'see what Abe was
at,' and saying many quaint and funny things suited to the time and
the jole." The captain, it will be seen, by his "freedom without
familiarity" and his "courtesy without condescension," was fast
making inroads on the respect of his rude but appreciative men. He
was doubtless looking a long way ahead, when both their friendship
and respect would be of avail, for as the chronicler last quoted from
continues: "He was acquainted with everybody, and he had determined,
as he told me, to become a candidate for the next Legislature. The mess
immediately pitched on him as our standard-bearer, and he accepted."
The term for which the volunteers had enlisted had now expired, and the
majority, tiring of the service, the novelty of which had worn off, and
longing for the comforts and good cheer of their homes, refused
either to re-enlist or render further service. They turned their faces
homeward, each with his appetite for military glory well satiated. But
the war was not over, and the mighty Black Hawk was still east of the
Mississippi. A few remained and re-enlisted. Among them was Lincoln.
This time, eschewing the responsibility of a captaincy, and to avoid the
possible embarrassment of dragging about camp a wooden sword, he entered
the company of Elijah Iles as a dignified private. It has pleased some
of Mr. Lincoln's biographers to attribute this re-enlistment to pure
patriotism on his part and a conscientious desire to serve his country.
From the standpoint of sentiment that is a comfortable view to take
of it; but I have strong reason to believe that Mr. Lincoln never
entertained such serious notions of the campaign. In fact, I may say
that my information comes from the best authority to be had in the
matter--the soldier himself. Mr. Lincoln had no home; he had cut loose
from his parents, from the Hankses and the Johnstons; he left behind
him no anxious wife and children; and no chair before a warm fireside
remained vacant for him. "I was out of work," he said to me once, "and
there being no danger of more fighting, I could do nothing better than
enlist again."
After his discharge from this last and brief period of service, along
with the remainder of the Sangamon county soldiers, he departed from the
scenes of recent hostilities for New Salem again. His soldier days had
ended, and he returned now to enter upon a far different career. However
much in later years he may have pretended to ridicule the disasters
of the Black Hawk war, or the part he took in it, yet I believe he
was rather proud of it after all. When Congress, along in the fifties,
granted him a land warrant he was greatly pleased. He located it on some
land in Iowa, and declared to me one day that he would die seized of
that land, and although the tract never yielded him anything he never,
so far as my knowledge extends parted with its ownership.*
* "In regard to the Bounty Land Warrants issued to Abraham
Lincoln for military services during the Black Hawk war as
Captain of 4th Illinois Volunteers, the first warrant, No.
52,076, for forty acres (Act of 1850), was issued to Abraham
Lincoln, Captain, etc. on the 16th of April, 1852, and was
located in his name by his duly appointed attorney, John P.
Davis, at Dubuque, Iowa, July 21, 1854, on the north-west
quarter of the south-west quarter of section 20, in Township
84, north of Range 39, west, Iowa. A patent as recorded in
volume 280, page 21, was issued for this tract to Abraham
Lincoln on the 1st of June, 1855, and transmitted the 26th
October, 1855, to the Register of delivery.
"Under the Act of 1855, another Land Warrant, No. 68,465,
for 120 acres, was issued to Abraham Lincoln, Captain
Illinois Militia, Black Hawk war, on the 22d April, 1856,
and was located by himself at Springfield, Illinois,
December 27, 1859, on the east half of the north-east
quarter and the north-west quarter of the north-east quarter
of section 18, in Township 84, north of Range 39, west; for
which a patent, as recorded in volume 468, page 53, was
issued September 10, 1860, and sent October 30, 1860, to the
Register for delivery."--Letter Jos. S. Wilson Acting
Commissioner Land Office, June 27, 1865.
The return of the Black Hawk warriors to New Salem occurred in the
month of August, but a short time before the general election. A
new Legislature was to be chosen, and as Lincoln had declared to
his comrades in the army he would, and in obedience to the effusive
declaration of principles which he had issued over his signature in
March, before he went to the war, he presented himself to the people of
his newly adopted county as a candidate for the Legislature. It is
not necessary to enter into an account of the political conditions in
Illinois at that time, or the effect had on the same by those who had
in charge the governmental machinery. Lincoln's course is all that
interests us. Though he may not have distinctly avowed himself a
Whig, yet, as one of his friends asserted, "he stood openly on Whig
principles." He favored a national bank, a liberal system of internal
improvements, and a high protective tariff. The handbill or circular
alluded to announcing his candidacy was a sort of literary fulmination,
but on account of its length I deem it unnecessary to insert the whole
of it here. I have been told that it was prepared by Lincoln, but purged
of its most glaring grammatical errors by James McNamar, who afterwards
became Lincoln's rival in an important love affair.*
* In a letter dated May 5, 1866, McNamar says:
"I corrected at his request some of the grammatical errors
in his first address to the voters of Sangamon county, his
principal hobby being the navigation of the Sangamon river."
The circular is dated March 9, 1832, and addressed to the "People of
Sangamon County." In it he takes up all the leading questions of the
day: railroads, river navigation, internal improvements, and usury. He
dwells particularly on the matter of public education, alluding to it as
the most important subject before the people. Realizing his own defects
arising from a lack of school instruction he contends that every man
and his children, however poor, should be permitted to obtain at least
a moderate education, and thereby be enabled "to read the Scriptures and
other works both of a moral and religious nature for themselves." The
closing paragraph was so constructed as to appeal to the chivalrous
sentiments of Clary's Grove. "I was born and have ever remained,"
he declares, "in the most humble walks of life. I have no wealthy
or popular relatives or friends to recommend me. My case is thrown
exclusively upon the independent voters of the county; and if
elected they will have conferred a favor upon me for which I shall be
unremitting in my labors to compensate. But if," he dryly concludes,
"the good people in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the
background, I have been too familiar with disappointments to be very
much chagrined."
The election being near at hand only a few days remained for his
canvass. One * who was with him at the time describing his appearance,
says: "He wore a mixed jeans coat, clawhammer style, short in the
sleeves and bobtail--in fact it was so short in the tail he could not
sit on it; flax and tow-linen pantaloons, and a straw hat. I think
he wore a vest, but do not remember how it looked. He wore pot-metal
boots." His maiden effort on the stump was a speech on the occasion of
a public sale at Pappsville, a village eleven miles west of Springfield.
After the sale was over and speech-making had begun, a fight--a "general
fight," as one of the bystanders relates--ensued, and Lincoln, noticing
one of his friends about to succumb to the energetic attack of
an infuriated ruffian, interposed to prevent it. He did so most
effectually.
* A. Y. Ellis, letter, June 5, 1866, MS.
Hastily descending from the rude platform he edged his way through the
crowd, and seizing the bully by the neck and seat of his trowsers,
threw him by means of his strength and long arms, as one witness stoutly
insists, "twelve feet away." Returning to the stand and throwing aside
his hat he inaugurated his campaign with the following brief but juicy
declaration:
"Fellow Citizens, I presume you all know who I am. I am humble Abraham
Lincoln. I have been solicited by many friends to become a candidate for
the Legislature. My politics are short and sweet, like the old woman's
dance. I am in favor of a national bank. I am in favor of the internal
improvement system and a high protective tariff. These are my sentiments
and political principles. If elected I shall be thankful; if not it will
be all the same."
I obtained this speech from A. Y. Ellis, who in 1865 wrote it out.
Ellis was his friend and supporter, and took no little interest in his
canvass. "I accompanied him," he relates, "on one of his electioneering
trips to Island Grove, and he made a speech which pleased his party
friends very well indeed, though some of the Jackson men tried to make
sport of it. He told several anecdotes, and applied them, as I thought,
very well. He also told the boys several stories which drew them after
him. I remember them, but modesty and my veneration for his memory
forbid me to relate them." His story-telling propensity, and the
striking fitness of his yarns--many of them being of the bar-room
order--in illustrating public questions, as we shall see further along
in these chapters, was really one of the secrets of his popularity and
strength. The election, as he had predicted, resulted in his defeat--the
only defeat, as he himself afterward stated, that he ever suffered at
the hands of the people. But there was little defeat in it after all.
Out of the eight unsuccessful candidates he stood third from the head
of the list, receiving 657 votes. Five others received less. The most
gratifying feature of it all was the hearty support of his neighbors at
New Salem. Of the entire 208 votes in the precinct he received every one
save three.
It may not be amiss to explain the cause of this remarkable endorsement
of Lincoln by the voters in New Salem. It arose chiefly from his
advocacy of the improvement of the Sangamon river. He proposed the
digging of a canal a few miles east of the point where the Sangamon
enters the Illinois river, thereby giving the former two mouths.
This, he explained to the farmers, would prevent the accumulation of
back-water and consequent overflow of their rich alluvial bottom lands
in the spring. It would also avert the sickness and evil results
of stagnant pools, which formed in low places after the high waters
receded. His scheme--that is the name by which it would be known
to-day--commended itself to the judgment of his neighbors, and the
flattering vote he received shows how they endorsed it.
The unsuccessful result of the election did not dampen his hopes nor
sour his ambition. The extensive acquaintance, the practice in public
speaking, the confidence gained with the people, together with what was
augmented in himself, made a surplus of capital on which he was free to
draw and of which he afterwards frequently availed himself. The election
being over, however, he found himself without money, though with a
goodly supply of experience, drifting again. His political experience
had forever weaned him from the dull routine of common labor.
Labor afforded him no time for study and no incentive to profitable
reflection. What he seemed to want was some lighter work, employment in
a store or tavern where he could meet the village celebrities, exchange
views with strangers, discuss politics, horse-races, cock-fights, and
narrate to listening loafers his striking and significant stories.
In the communities where he had lived, the village store-keeper held
undisturbed sway. He took the only newspapers, owned the only collection
of books and half the property in the village; and in general was the
social, and oftentimes the political head of the community. Naturally,
therefore the prominence the store gave the merchant attracted Lincoln.
But there seemed no favorable opening for him--clerks in New Salem were
not in demand just then.
My cousins, Rowan and James Herndon, were at that time operating
a store, and tiring of their investment and the confinement it
necessitated, James sold his interest to an idle, shiftless fellow named
William Berry. Soon after Rowan disposed of his to Lincoln. That the
latter, who was without means and in search of work, could succeed to
the ownership of even a half interest in a concern where but a few days
before he would in all probability gladly have exchanged his services
for his board, doubtless seems strange to the average young business
man of to-day. I once asked Rowan Herndon what induced him to make such
liberal terms in dealing with Lincoln, whom he had known for so short a
time.
"I believed he was thoroughly honest," was the reply, "and that
impression was so strong in me I accepted his note in payment of the
whole. He had no money, but I would have advanced him still more had he
asked for it."
Lincoln and Berry had been installed in business but a short time until
one Reuben Radford, the proprietor of another New Salem grocery, who,
happening to incur the displeasure of the Clary's Grove boys, decided
suddenly one morning, in the commercial language of later days, to
"retire from business." A visit by night of the Clary's Grove contingent
always hastened any man's retirement from business. The windows were
driven in, and possession taken of the stock without either ceremony
or inventory. If, by break of day, the unfortunate proprietor found any
portion of his establishment standing where he left it the night before,
he might count himself lucky. In Radford's case, fearing "his bones
might share the fate of his windows," he disposed of his stock and
good-will to William Greene for a consideration of four hundred dollars.
The latter employed Lincoln to make an inventory of the goods, and when
completed, the new merchant, seeing in it something of a speculation,
offered Greene an advance of two hundred and fifty dollars on his
investment. The offer was accepted, and the stock and fixtures passed
into the ownership and control of the now enterprising firm of Lincoln
& Berry. They subsequently absorbed the remnant of a store belonging
to one Rutledge, which last transaction cleared the field of all
competitors and left them in possession of the only mercantile concern
in New Salem.
To effect these sales not a cent of money was required--the buyer giving
the seller his note and the latter assigning it to someone else in
another trade. Berry gave his note to James Herndon, Lincoln his
to Rowan Herndon, while Lincoln & Berry as a firm, executed their
obligation to Greene, Radford, and Rutledge in succession. Surely Wall
Street at no time in its history has furnished a brace of speculators
who in so brief a period accomplished so much and with so little money.
A few weeks only were sufficient to render apparent Lincoln's ill
adaptation to the requirements of a successful business career. Once
installed behind the counter he gave himself up to reading and study,
depending for the practical management of the business on his partner.
A more unfortunate selection than Berry could not have been found;
for, while Lincoln at one end of the store was dispensing political
information, Berry at the other was disposing of the firm's liquors,
being the best customer for that article of merchandise himself. To put
it more plainly, Lincoln's application to Shakespeare and Bums was only
equalled by Berry's attention to spigot and barrel. That the latter in
the end succeeded in squandering a good portion of their joint assets,
besides wrecking his own health, is not to be wondered at. By the
spring of 1833 they, like their predecessors, were ready to retire.
Two brothers named Trent coming along, they sold to them on the liberal
terms then prevalent the business and good-will; but before the latter's
notes fell due, they in turn had failed and fled. The death of Berry
following soon after, released him from the payment of any notes or
debts, and thus Lincoln was left to meet the unhonored obligations
of the ill-fated partnership, or avoid their payment by dividing the
responsibility and pleading the failure of the business. That he assumed
all the liability and set resolutely to work to pay everything, was
strictly in keeping with his fine sense of honor and justice. He was a
long time meeting these claims, even as late as 1848 sending to me from
Washington portions of his salary as Congressman to be applied on the
unpaid remnant of the Berry & Lincoln indebtedness--but in time he
extinguished it all, even to the last penny.
Conscious of his many shortcomings as a merchant, and undaunted by the
unfortunate complications from which he had just been released, Lincoln
returned to his books. Rowan Herndon, with whom he had been living,
having removed to the country, he became for the first time a sojourner
at the tavern, as it was then called--a public-house kept by Rutledge,
Onstatt, and Alley in succession. "It was a small log house," he
explained to me in later years, "covered with clapboards, and contained
four rooms." It was second only in importance to the store, for there
he had the opportunity of meeting passing strangers--lawyers and others
from the county seat, whom he frequently impressed with his knowledge
as well as wit. He had, doubtless, long before determined to prepare
himself for the law; in fact, had begun to read Blackstone while in the
store, and now went at it with renewed zeal. He borrowed law-books
of his former comrade in the Black Hawk war, John T. Stuart, who was
practicing law in Springfield, frequently walking there to return one
and borrow another. His determination to master any subject he undertook
and his application to study were of the most intense order. On the
road to and from Springfield he would read and recite from the book he
carried open in his hand, and claimed to have mastered forty pages of
Blackstone during the first day after his return from Stuart's office.
At New Salem he frequently sat barefooted under the shade of a tree near
the store, poring over a volume of Chitty or Blackstone; sometimes lying
on his back, putting his feet up the tree, which provokes one of his
biographers to denote the latter posture as one which might have been
"unfavorable to mental application, in the case of a man with shorter
extremities."
That Lincoln's attempt to make a lawyer of himself under such adverse
and unpromising circumstances excited comment is not to be wondered at.
Russell Godby, an old man who still survives, told me in 1865, that he
had often employed Lincoln to do farm work for him, and was surprised
to find him one day sitting barefoot on the summit of a woodpile and
attentively reading a book. "This being an unusual thing for farm hands
in that early day to do, I asked him," relates Godby, "what he was
reading." 'I'm not reading,' he answered. 'I'm studying.' 'Studying
what?' I enquired. 'Law, sir,' was the emphatic response. It was really
too much for me, as I looked at him sitting there proud as Cicero.
'Great God Almighty!' I exclaimed, and passed on.
But Lincoln kept on at his studies. Wherever he was and whenever he
could do so the book was brought into use. He carried it with him in his
rambles through the woods and his walks to the river. When night came
he read it by the aid of any friendly light he could find. Frequently
he went down to the cooper's shop and kindled a fire out of the waste
material lying about, and by the light it afforded read until far into
the night.
One of his companions at this time relates that, "while clerking in the
store or serving as postmaster he would apply himself as opportunity
offered to his studies, if it was but five minutes time--would open his
book which he always kept at hand, study it, reciting to himself; then
entertain the company present or wait on a customer without apparent
annoyance from the interruption. Have frequently seen him reading while
walking along the streets. Occasionally he would become absorbed with
his book; would stop and stand for a few moments, then walk on, or pass
from one house to another or from one crowd or squad of men to another.
He was apparently seeking amusement, and with his thoughtful face and
ill-fitting clothes was the last man one would have singled out for
a student. If the company he was in was unappreciative, or their
conversation at all irksome, he would open his book and commune with
it for a time, until a happy thought suggested itself and then the book
would again return to its wonted resting-place under his arm. He never
appeared to be a hard student, as he seemed to master his studies with
little effort, until he commenced the study of the law. In that he
became wholly engrossed, and began for the first time to avoid the
society of men, in order that he might have more time for study. He was
not what is usually termed a quick-minded man, although he would usually
arrive at his conclusions very readily. He seemed invariably to reflect
and deliberate, and never acted from impulse so far as to force a wrong
conclusion on a subject of any moment." *
* R. B. Rutledge, letter, Nov. 30. 1866, MS.
It was not long until he was able to draw up deeds, contracts,
mortgages, and other legal papers for his neighbors. He figured
conspicuously as a pettifogger before the justice of the peace, but
regarding it merely as a kind of preliminary practice, seldom made any
charge for his services. Meanwhile he was reading not only law books but
natural philosophy and other scientific subjects. He was a careful
and patient reader of newspapers, the _Sangamon Journal_--published at
Springfield--_Louisville Journal, St. Louis Republican, and Cincinnati
Gazette_ being usually within his reach. He paid a less degree of
attention to historical works, although he read Rollin and Gibbon while
in business with Berry. He had a more pronounced fondness for fictitious
literature, and read with evident relish Mrs. Lee Hentz's novels, which
were very popular books in that day, and which were kindly loaned him
by his friend A. Y. Ellis. The latter was a prosperous and shrewd young
merchant who had come up from Springfield and taken quite a fancy to
Lincoln. The two slept together and Lincoln frequently assisted him in
the store. He says that Lincoln was fond of short, spicy stories one and
two columns long, and cites as specimens, "Cousin Sally Dillard," "Becky
William's Courtship," "The Down-Easter and the Bull," and others, the
very titles suggesting the character of the productions. He remembered
everything he read, and could afterwards without apparent difficulty
relate it. In fact, Mr. Lincoln's fame as a storyteller spread far and
wide. Men quoted his sayings, repeated his jokes, and in remote places
he was known as a story-teller before he was heard of either as lawyer
or politician.
It has been denied as often as charged that Lincoln narrated vulgar
stories; but the truth is he loved a story however extravagant or
vulgar, if it had a good point. If it was merely a ribald recital and
had no sting in the end, that is, if it exposed no weakness or pointed
no moral, he had no use for it either in conversation or public speech;
but if it had the necessary ingredients of mirth and moral no one could
use it with more telling effect. As a mimic he was unequalled, and
with his characteristic gestures, he built up a reputation for
story-telling--although fully as many of his narratives were borrowed as
original--which followed him through life. One who listened to his
early stories in New Salem says: "His laugh was striking. Such awkward
gestures belonged to no other man. They attracted universal attention,
from the old sedate down to the schoolboy. Then in a few moments he was
as calm and thoughtful as a judge on the bench, and as ready to give
advice on the most important matters; fun and gravity grew on him
alike."
Lincoln's lack of musical adaptation has deprived us of many a song. For
a ballad or doggerel he sometimes had quite a liking. He could memorize
or recite the lines but some one else had to do the singing. Listen to
one in which he shows "_How St. Patrick Came to be Born on the 17th of
March_." Who composed it or where Lincoln obtained it I have never
been able to learn. Ellis says he often inflicted it on the crowds who
collected in his store of winter evenings. Here it is:
"The first factional fight in old Ireland, they say,
Was all on account of Saint Patrick's birthday,
It was somewhere about midnight without any doubt,
And certain it is, it made a great rout.
On the eighth day of March, as some people say,
St Patrick at midnight he first saw the day;
While others assert 'twas the ninth he was born,
Twas all a mistake--between midnight and morn.
Some blamed the baby, some blamed the clock;
Some blamed the doctor, some the crowing cock.
With all these close questions sure no one could know,
Whether the babe was too fast or the clock was too slow.
Some fought for the eighth, for the ninth some would die;
He who wouldn't see right would have a black eye.
At length these two factions so positive grew,
They each had a birthday, and Pat he had two.
Till Father Mulcahay who showed them their sins,
He said none could have two birthdays but as twins.
'Now Boys, don't be fighting for the eight or the nine
Don't quarrel so always, now why not combine.'
Combine eight with nine. It is the mark;
Let that be the birthday. Amen! said the clerk.
So all got blind drunk, which completed their bliss,
And they've kept up the practice from that day to this." *
* From MS., furnished by Ellis in August, 1866.
As a salesman, Lincoln was lamentably deficient. He was too prone to
lead off into a discussion of politics or morality, leaving someone else
to finish the trade which he had undertaken. One of his employers says:
"He always disliked to wait on the ladies, preferring, he said, to
wait on the men and boys. I also remember he used to sleep on the store
counter when they had too much company at the tavern. He wore flax
and tow linen pantaloons--I thought about five inches too short in the
legs--and frequently had but one suspender, no vest or coat. He wore a
calico shirt, such as he had in the Black Hawk war; coarse brogans, tan
color; blue yarn socks and straw hat, old style, and without a band."
His friend Ellis attributed his shyness in the presence of the ladies
to the consciousness of his awkward appearance and the unpretentious
condition of his wearing apparel. It was more than likely due to pure
bashfulness. "On one occasion," continues Ellis, "while we boarded at
the tavern, there came a family consisting of an old lady, her son, and
three stylish daughters, from the State of Virginia, who stopped there
for two or three weeks, and during their stay I do not remember of Mr.
Lincoln's ever appearing at the same table with them."
As a society man, Lincoln was singularly deficient while he lived in New
Salem, and even during the remainder of his life. He never indulged
in gossip about the ladies, nor aided in the circulation of village
scandal. For woman he had a high regard, and I can testify that during
my long acquaintance with him his conversation was free from injurious
comment in individual cases--freer from unpleasant allusions than that
of most men. At one time Major Hill charged him with making defamatory
remarks regarding his wife. Hill was insulting in his language to
Lincoln who never lost his temper. When he saw a chance to edge a word
in, Lincoln denied emphatically using the language or anything like that
attributed to him. He entertained, he insisted, a high regard for Mrs.
Hill, and the only thing he knew to her discredit was the fact that she
was Major Hill's wife.
At this time in its brief history New Salem was what in the parlance of
large cities would be called a fast place; and it was difficult for a
young man of ordinary moral courage to resist the temptations that beset
him on every hand. It remains a matter of surprise that Lincoln was able
to retain his popularity with the hosts of young men of his own age,
and still not join them in their drinking bouts and carousals. "I am
certain," contends one of his companions, "that he never drank any
intoxicating liquors--he did not even in those days smoke or chew
tobacco." In sports requiring either muscle or skill he took no little
interest. He indulged in all the games of the day, even to a horse-race
or cock-fight. At one eventful chicken fight, where a fee of twenty-five
cents for the entrance of each fowl was assessed, one Bap. McNabb
brought a little red rooster, whose fighting qualities had been well
advertised for days in advance by his owner. Much interest was naturally
taken in the contest. As the outcome of these contests was generally a
quarrel, in which each man, charging foul play, seized his victim, they
chose Lincoln umpire, relying not only on his fairness but his ability
to enforce his decisions. In relating what followed I cannot improve on
the description furnished me in February, 1865, by one* who was present.
* A. Y. Ellis, MS.
"They formed a ring, and the time having arrived, Lincoln, with one hand
on each hip and in a squatting position, cried, 'Ready.' Into the ring
they toss their fowls, Bap's red rooster along with the rest. But no
sooner had the little beauty discovered what was to be done than
he dropped his tail and ran. The crowd cheered, while Bap. in
disappointment picked him up and started away, losing his quarter and
carrying home his dishonored fowl. Once arrived at the latter place he
threw his pet down with a feeling of indignation and chagrin. The little
fellow, out of sight of all rivals, mounted a wood pile and proudly
flirting out his feathers, crowed with all his might. Bap. looked on
in disgust. 'Yes, you little cuss,' he exclaimed, irreverently, 'you're
great on dress parade, but not worth a d----n in a fight.'" It is
said--how truthfully I do not know--that at some period during the late
war Mr. Lincoln in conversation with a friend likened McClellan to Bap.
McNabb's rooster. So much for New Salem sports.
While wooing that jealous-eyed mistress, the law, Lincoln was earning
no money. As another has said, "he had a running board bill to pay, and
nothing to pay it with." By dint of sundry jobs here and there, helping
Ellis in his store to-day, splitting rails for James Short to-morrow,
he managed to keep his head above the waves. His friends were firm--no
young man ever had truer or better ones--but he was of too independent
a turn to appeal to them or complain of his condition. He never at any
time abandoned the idea of becoming a lawyer. That was always a spirit
which beckoned him on in the darkest hour of his adversity. Someone,
probably a Democrat who voted for him in the preceding fall, recommended
him to John Calhoun, then surveyor of the county, as suitable material
for an assistant. This office, in view of the prevailing speculation
in lands and town lots, was the most important and possibly the most
profitable in the county. Calhoun, the incumbent, was a Yankee and
a typical gentleman. He was brave, intellectual, self-possessed, and
cultivated. He had been educated for the law, but never practiced much
after coming to Illinois--taught school in preference. As an instructor
he was the popular one of his day and age. I attended the school he
taught when I was a boy, in Springfield, and was in later years clerk of
the city under his administration as Mayor. Lincoln, I know, respected
and admired him. After Lincoln's removal to Springfield they frequently
held joint debates on political questions. At one time I remember they
discussed the tariff question in the court house, using up the better
part of two evenings in the contest. Calhoun was polite, affable, and an
honest debater, never dodging any question. This made him a formidable
antagonist in argumentative controversy. I have heard Lincoln say that
Calhoun gave him more trouble in his debates than Douglas ever did,
because he was more captivating in his manner and a more learned man
than Douglas.
But to resume. The recommendation of Lincoln's friends was sufficient
to induce Calhoun to appoint him one of his deputies. At the time he
received notice of his selection by Calhoun, Lincoln was out in the
woods near New Salem splitting rails. A friend named Pollard Simmons,
who still survives and has related the incident to me, walked out to the
point where he was working with the cheering news. Lincoln, being a Whig
and knowing Calhoun's pronounced Democratic tendencies, enquired if he
had to sacrifice any principle in accepting the position. "If I can
be perfectly free in my political action I will take the office," he
remarked; "but if my sentiments or even expression of them is to be
abridged in any way I would not have it or any other office." A young
man hampered by poverty as Lincoln was at this time, who had the courage
to deal with public office as he did, was certainly made of unalloyed
material. No wonder in after years when he was defeated by Douglas he
could inspire his friends by the admonition not to "give up after one
nor one hundred defeats."
After taking service with Calhoun, Lincoln found he had but little
if any practical knowledge of surveying--all that had to be learned.
Calhoun furnished him with books, directing him to study them till he
felt competent to begin work. He again invoked the assistance of Mentor
Graham, the schoolmaster, who aided him in his efforts at calculating
the results of surveys and measurements. Lincoln was not a mathematician
by nature, and hence, with him, learning meant labor. Graham's daughter
is authority for the statement that her father and Lincoln frequently
sat up till midnight engrossed in calculations, and only ceased when
her mother drove them out after a fresh supply of wood for the fire.
Meanwhile Lincoln was keeping up his law studies. "He studied to see
the subject-matter clearly," says Graham, "and to express it truly and
strongly. I have known him to study for hours the best way of three to
express an idea." He was so studious and absorbed in his application
at one time, that his friends, according to a statement made by one*
of them, "noticed that he was so emaciated we feared he might bring on
mental derangement." It was not long, however, until he had mastered
surveying as a study, and then he was sent out to work by his
superior--Calhoun. It has never been denied that his surveys were exact
and just, and he was so manifestly fair that he was often chosen to
settle disputed questions of comers and measurements. It is worthy of
note here that, with all his knowledge of lands and their value and the
opportunities that lay open to him for profitable and safe investments,
he never made use of the information thus obtained from official
sources, nor made a single speculation on his own account. The high
value he placed on public office was more fully emphasized when as
President, in answer to a delegation of gentlemen who called to press
the claims of one of his warm personal friends for an important office,
he declined on the ground that "he did not regard it as just to the
public to pay the debts of personal friendship with offices that
belonged to the people."
* Henry McHenry, MS., Oct. 5, 1865.
As surveyor under Calhoun he was sent for at one time to decide or
locate a disputed corner for some persons in the northern part of
the county. Among others interested was his friend and admirer Henry
McHenry. "After a good deal of disputing we agreed," says the latter,
"to send for Lincoln and to abide by his decision. He came with compass,
flag-staff, and chain. He stopped with me three or four days and
surveyed the whole section. When in the neighborhood of the disputed
corner by actual survey he called for his staff and driving it in the
ground at a certain spot said, 'Gentlemen, here is the corner.' We dug
down into the ground at the point indicated and, lo! there we found
about six or eight inches of the original stake sharpened at the end,
and beneath which was the usual piece of charcoal placed there by Rector
the surveyor who laid the ground off for the government many years
before." So fairly and well had the young surveyor done his duty that
all parties went away completely satisfied. As late as 1865 the corner
was preserved by a mark and pointed out to strangers as an evidence
of the young surveyor's skill. Russell Godby, mentioned in the earlier
pages of this chapter, presented to me a certificate of survey given
to him by Lincoln. It was written January 14,1834, and is signed "J.
Calhoun, S. S. C., by A. Lincoln." "The survey was made by Lincoln,"
says Godby, "and I gave him as pay for his work two buckskins, which
Hannah Armstrong 'foxed' on his pants so that the briers would not wear
them out."
Honors were now crowding thick and fast upon him. On May 7, 1833, he
was commissioned postmaster at New Salem, the first office he ever held
under the Federal Government. The salary was proportionate to the amount
of business done. Whether Lincoln solicited the appointment himself, or
whether it was given him without the asking, I do not know; but certain
it is his "administration" gave general satisfaction. The mail arrived
once a week, and we can imagine the extent of time and labor required
to distribute it, when it is known that "he carried the office around in
his hat." Mr. Lincoln used to tell me that when he had a call to go to
the country to survey a piece of land, he placed inside his hat all the
letters belonging to people in the neighborhood and distributed them
along the way. He made head-quarters in Samuel Hill's store, and there
the office may be said to have been located, as Hill himself had
been postmaster before Lincoln. Between the revenue derived from
the post-office and his income from land surveys Lincoln was, in the
expressive language of the day, "getting along well enough." Suddenly,
however, smooth sailing ceased and all his prospects of easy times ahead
were again brought to naught. One Van Bergen brought suit against him
and obtained judgment on one of the notes given in payment of the store
debt--a relic of the unfortunate partnership with Berry. His personal
effects were levied on and sold, his horse and surveying instruments
going with the rest. But again a friend, one James Short, whose favor
he had gained, interposed; bought in the property and restored it to
the hope-less young surveyor. It will be seen now what kind of friends
Lincoln was gaining. The bonds he was thus making were destined to stand
the severest of tests. His case never became so desperate but a friend
came out of the darkness to relieve him.
There was always something about Lincoln in his earlier days to
encourage his friends. He was not only grateful for whatever aid
was given him, but he always longed to help some one else. He had an
unfailing disposition to succor the weak and the unfortunate, and was
always, in his sympathy, struggling with the under dog in the fight.
He was once overtaken when about fourteen miles from Springfield by one
Chandler, whom he knew slightly, and who, having already driven twenty
miles, was hastening to reach the land office before a certain other man
who had gone by a different road. Chandler explained to Lincoln that he
was poor and wanted to enter a small tract of land which adjoined his,
that another man of considerable wealth had also determined to have it,
and had mounted his horse and started for Springfield. "Meanwhile, my
neighbors," continued Chandler, "collected and advanced me the necessary
one hundred dollars, and now, if I can reach the land office first, I
can secure the land." Lincoln noticed that Chandler's horse was too
much fatigued to stand fourteen miles more of a forced march, and he
therefore dismounted from his own and turned him over to Chandler,
saying, "Here's my horse--he is fresh and full of grit; there's no time
to be lost; mount him and put him through. When you reach Springfield
put him up at Herndon's tavern and I'll call and get him." Thus
encouraged Chandler moved on, leaving Lincoln to follow on the jaded
animal. He reached Springfield over an hour in advance of his rival
and thus secured the coveted tract of land. By nightfall Lincoln rode
leisurely into town and was met by the now radiant Chandler, jubilant
over his success. Between the two a friendship sprang up which all the
political discords of twenty-five years never shattered nor strained.
About this time Lincoln began to extend somewhat his system--if he
really ever had a system in anything--of reading.' He now began to read
the writings of Paine, Volney, and Voltaire. A good deal of religious
skepticism existed at New Salem, and there were frequent discussions
at the store and tavern, in which Lincoln took part. What views he
entertained on religious questions will be more fully detailed in
another place.
No little of Lincoln's influence with the men of New Salem can be
attributed to his extraordinary feats of strength. By an arrangement of
ropes and straps, harnessed about his hips, he was enabled one day at
the mill to astonish a crowd of village celebrities by lifting a box of
stones weighing near a thousand pounds. There is no fiction either,
as suggested by some of his biographers, in the story that he lifted
a barrel of whisky from the ground and drank from the bung; but in
performing this latter almost incredible feat he did not stand erect
and elevate the barrel, but squatted down and lifted it to his knees,
rolling it over until his mouth came opposite the bung. His strength,
kindness of manner, love of fairness and justice, his original and
unique sayings, his power of mimicry, his perseverance---all made a
combination rarely met with on the frontier. Nature had burnt him in her
holy fire, and stamped him with the seal of her greatness.
In the summer of 1834 Lincoln determined to make another race for the
legislature; but this time he ran distinctly as a Whig. He made, it
is presumed, the usual number of speeches, but as the art of newspaper
reporting had not reached the perfection it has since attained, we are
not favored with even the substance of his efforts on the stump. I have
Lincoln's word for it that it was more of a hand-shaking campaign than
anything else. Rowan Herndon relates that he came to his house during
harvest, when there were a large number of men at work in the field.
He was introduced to them, but they did not hesitate to apprize him
of their esteem for a man who could labor; and their admiration for a
candidate for office was gauged somewhat by the amount of work he could
do. Learning these facts, Lincoln took hold of a cradle, and handling
it with ease and remarkable speed, soon distanced those who undertook to
follow him. The men were satisfied, and it is presumed he lost no votes
in that crowd. One Dr. Barrett, seeing Lincoln, enquired of the latter's
friends: "Can't the party raise any better material than that?" but
after hearing his speech the doctor's opinion was considerably altered,
for he declared that Lincoln filled him with amazement; "that he knew
more than all of the other candidates put together." The election took
place in August. Lincoln's friend, John T. Stuart, was also a candidate
on the legislative ticket. He encouraged Lincoln's canvas in every way,
even at the risk of sacrificing his own chances. But both were elected.
The four successful candidates were Dawson, who received 1390 votes,*
Lincoln 1376, Carpenter 1170, and Stuart 1164.
* In all former biographies of Lincoln, including the
Nicolay and Hay history in the "Century Magazine," Dawson's
vote is fixed at 1370, and Lincoln is thereby made to lead
the ticket; but in the second issue of the Sangamon Journal
after the election--August 16, 1834--the count is corrected,
and Dawson's vote is increased to 1390. Dr. A. W. French, of
Springfield, is the possessor of an official return of the
votes cast at the New Salem precinct, made out in the
handwriting of Lincoln, which also gives Dawson's vote at
1390.
At last Lincoln had been elected to the legislature, and by a very
flattering majority. In order, as he himself said, "to make a decent
appearance in the legislature," he had to borrow money to buy suitable
clothing and to maintain his new dignity. Coleman Smoot, one of his
friends, advanced him "two hundred dollars, which he returned, relates
the generous Smoot, according to promise." Here we leave our rising
young statesman, to take up a different but very interesting period of
his history.