In December, 1834, Lincoln prepared himself for the Legislature to
which he had been elected by such a complimentary majority. Through the
generosity of his friend Smoot he purchased a new suit of clothes, and
entering the stage at New Salem, rode through to Vandalia, the seat of
government. He appreciated the dignity of his new position, and instead
of walking to the capitol, as some of his biographers have contended,
availed himself of the usual mode of travel. At this session of the
Legislature he was anything but conspicuous. In reality he was very
modest, but shrewd enough to impress the force of his character on those
persons whose influence might some day be of advantage to him. He made
but little stir, if we are to believe the record, during the whole of
this first session. Made a member of the committee on Public Accounts
and Expenditures, his name appears so seldom in the reports of the
proceedings that we are prone to conclude that he must have contented
himself with listening to the flashes of border oratory and absorbing
his due proportion of parliamentary law. He was reserved in manner, but
very observant; said little, but learned much; made the acquaintance of
all the members and many influential persons on the outside. The lobby
at that day contained the representative men of the state--men of
acknowledged prominence and respectability, many of them able lawyers,
drawn thither in advocacy of some pet bill. Schemes of vast internal
improvements attracted a retinue of log-rollers, who in later days seem
to have been an indispensable necessity in the movement of complicated
legislative machinery. Men of capital and brains were there. He
early realized the importance of knowing all these, trusting to the
inspiration of some future hour to impress them with his skill as an
organizer or his power as an orator. Among the members of the outside or
"third body" was Stephen A. Douglas, whom Lincoln then saw for the
first time. Douglas had come from Vermont only the year before, but was
already undertaking to supplant John J. Hardin in the office of States
Attorney for the district in which both lived. What impression he made
on Lincoln, what opinions each formed of the other, or what the extent
of their acquaintance then was, we do not know. It is said that
Lincoln afterwards in mentioning their first meeting observed of the
newly-arrived Vermonter that he was the "least man he had ever seen."
The Legislature proper contained the youth and blood and fire of the
frontier. Some of the men who participated in these early parliamentary
battles were destined to carry the banners of great political parties,
some to lead in war and some in the great council chamber of the nation.
Some were to fill the Governor's office, others to wear the judicial
ermine, and one was destined to be Chief Magistrate and die a martyr to
the cause of human liberty.
The society of Vandalia and the people attracted thither by the
Legislature made it, for that early day, a gay place indeed. Compared to
Lincoln's former environments, it had no lack of refinement and polish.
That he absorbed a good deal of this by contact with the men and women
who surrounded him there can be no doubt. The "drift of sentiment and
the sweep of civilization" at this time can best be measured by the
character of the legislation. There were acts to incorporate banks,
turnpikes, bridges, insurance companies, towns, railroads, and female
academies. The vigor and enterprise of New England fusing with the
illusory prestige of Kentucky and Virginia was fast forming a new
civilization to spread over the prairies! At this session Lincoln
remained quietly in the background, and contented himself with the
introduction of a resolution in favor of securing to the State a part of
the proceeds of sales of public lands within its limits. With this brief
and modest record he returned to his constituents at New Salem. With
zealous perseverance, he renewed his application to the law and to
surveying, continuing his studies in both departments until he became,
as he thought, reliable and proficient. By reason of a change in the
office of Surveyor for the county he became a deputy under Thomas M.
Neale, who had been elected to succeed John Calhoun. The speculation
in lands made a brisk business for the new surveyor, who even added
Calhoun, his predecessor, to the list of deputies. Lincoln had now
become somewhat established in the good-will and respect of his
constituents. His bashfulness and timidity was gradually giving way to
a feeling of self-confidence, and he began to exult over his ability to
stand alone. The brief taste of public office which he had just enjoyed,
and the distinction it gave him only whetted his appetite for further
honors. Accordingly, in 1836 we find him a candidate for the Legislature
again. I well remember this campaign and the election which followed,
for my father, Archer G. Herndon, was also a candidate, aspiring to a
seat in the State Senate. The Legislature at the session previous had in
its apportionment bill increased the delegation from Sangamon county to
seven Representatives and two Senators. Party conventions had not yet
been invented, and there being no nominating machinery to interfere,
the field was open for any and all to run. Lincoln again resorted, in
opening his canvass, to the medium of the political handbill. Although
it had not operated with the most satisfactory results in his first
campaign, yet he felt willing to risk it again. Candidates of that day
evinced far more willingness to announce their position than political
aspirants do now. Without waiting for a convention to construct a
platform, or some great political leader to "sound the key-note of the
campaign," they stepped to the forefront and blew the bugle themselves.
This custom will account for the boldness of Lincoln's utterances and
the unequivocal tone of his declarations. His card--a sort of political
fulmination--was as follows:
"New Salem, June 13, 1836.
"_To the Editor of The Journal_:
"In your paper of last Saturday I see a communication over the signature
of "Many Voters" in which the candidates who are announced in the
Journal are called upon to 'show their hands.' Agreed. Here's mine:
"I go for all sharing the privileges of the government who assist in
bearing its burdens. Consequently, I go for admitting all whites to
the right of suffrage who pay taxes or bear arms (by no means excluding
females).
"If elected I shall consider the whole people of Sangamon my
constituents, as well those that oppose as those that support me.
"While acting as their Representative, I shall be governed by their will
on all subjects upon which I have the means of knowing what their will
is; and upon all others I shall do what my own judgment teaches me
will best advance their interests. Whether elected or not, I go for
distributing the proceeds of the sales of public lands to the several
States to enable our State, in common with others, to dig canals and
construct railroads without borrowing money and paying the interest on
it.
"If alive on the first Monday in November, I shall vote for Hugh L.
White, for President.
"Very respectfully,
"A. Lincoln"
It is generally admitted that the bold and decided stand Lincoln
took--though too audacious and emphatic for statesmen of a later
day--suited the temper of the times. Leaving out of sight his expressed
preference for White of Tennessee,--on whom all the anti-Jackson forces
were disposed to concentrate, and which was but a mere question of
men,--there is much food for thought in the second paragraph. His broad
plan for universal suffrage certainly commends itself to the ladies, and
we need no further evidence to satisfy our minds of his position on the
subject of "Woman's Rights," had he lived. In fact, I cannot refrain
from noting here what views he in after years held with reference to
the great questions of moral and social reforms, under which he classed
universal suffrage, temperance, and slavery. "All such questions," he
observed one day, as we were discussing temperance in the office, "must
first find lodgment with the most enlightened souls who stamp them with
their approval. In God's own time they will be organized into law and
thus woven into the fabric of our institutions."
The canvass which followed this public avowal of creed, was more
exciting than any which had preceded it. There were joint discussions,
and, at times, much feeling was exhibited. Each candidate had his
friends freely distributed through the crowd, and it needed but a
few angry interruptions or insinuating rejoinders from one speaker to
another to bring on a conflict between their friends. Frequently the
speakers led in the battle themselves, as in the case of Ninian W.
Edwards--afterwards a brother-in-law of Lincoln--who, in debate, drew
a pistol on his opponent Achilles Morris, a prominent Democrat. An
interesting relic of this canvass recently came to light, in a letter
which Mr. Lincoln wrote a week after he had announced his candidacy. It
is addressed to Colonel Robert Allen, a Democratic politician of local
prominence, who had been circulating some charges intended to affect
Lincoln's chances of election. The affair brought to the surface what
little satire there was in Lincoln's nature, and he administers--by
way of innuendo--such a flaying as the gallant colonel doubtless never
wanted to have repeated. The strangest part of it all is that the letter
was recently found and given to the public by Allen's own son.* It is as
follows:
* The MS. is now in possession of the Lincoln Monument
Association of Springfield.
"New Salem, June 21, 1836.
"Dear Colonel:
"I am told that during my absence last week you passed through the place
and stated publicly that you were in possession of a fact or facts,
which if known to the public would entirely destroy the prospects of N.
W. Edwards and myself at the ensuing election, but that through favor to
us you would forbear to divulge them. No one has needed favors more than
I, and generally few have been less unwilling to accept them, but in
this case favor to me would be injustice to the public, and therefore I
must beg your pardon for declining it. That I once had the confidence
of the people of Sangamon county is sufficiently evident; and if I have
done anything, either by design or misadventure, which if known would
subject me to a forfeiture of that confidence, he that knows of that
thing, and conceals it, is a traitor to his country's interest.
"I find myself wholly unable to form any conjecture of what fact or
facts, real or supposed, you spoke; but my opinion of your veracity will
not permit me for a moment to doubt that you at least believed what you
said. I am flattered with the personal regard you manifested for me; but
I do hope that on mature reflection you will view the public interest as
a paramount consideration and therefore let the worst come.
"I assure you that the candid statement of facts on your part, however
low it may sink me, shall never break the ties of personal friendship
between us.
"I wish an answer to this, and you are at liberty to publish both if you
choose.
"Very respectfully,
"A. Lincoln."
Col. Robert Allen.
Lincoln was sure the letter never would be published or answered,
because Allen had no facts whatever upon which to base any such charges.
He also knew that Allen, who was a hide-bound Democrat, was in politics
the most unreliable man in Sangamon county. A vein of irony runs all
through the letter, especially where in such a delicate way he pays
tribute to the veracity of Allen, who, although a generous fellow in
the ordinary sense of the term, was unlimited in exaggeration and a
veritable bag of wind. The effort to smoke him out seems to have been
of little effect, but enough appears in Lincoln's letter to show that he
was thoroughly warmed up.
A joint debate in which all the candidates participated, took place
on the Saturday preceding the election. "The speaking began in the
forenoon," says one of the participants, "the candidates speaking
alternately until everyone who could speak had had his turn, generally
consuming the whole afternoon." Dr. Early, a Democratic candidate, in
his speech took issue with Ninian W. Edwards, stigmatizing some of the
latter's statements as untrue. This brought Edwards to his feet with
a similar retort. His angry tone and menacing manner, as he mounted
a table and with clenched fist hurled defiance at his challenger,
foreboded a tumultuous scene. "The excitement that followed," relates
another one of the candidates,* "was intense--so much so that fighting
men thought a duel must settle the difficulty. Mr. Lincoln by the
programme followed Early. Taking up the subject in dispute, he handled
it so fairly and with such ability, all were astonished and pleased."
The turbulent spirits were quieted and the difficulty was easily
overcome.
Lincoln's friend Joshua F. Speed relates that during this campaign he
made a speech in Springfield a few days before the election. "The crowd
was large," says Speed, "and great numbers of his friends and admirers
had come in from the country. I remember that his speech was a very able
one, using with great power and originality all the arguments used to
sustain the principles of the Whig party as against its great rival,
the Democratic party of that day. The speech produced a profound
impression--the crowd was with him."
George Forquer, an old citizen, a man of recognized prominence and
ability as a lawyer, was present. Forquer had been a Whig--one of the
champions of the party--but had then recently joined the Democratic
party, and almost simultaneous with the change had been appointed
Register of the Land Office, which office he then held. Just about that
time Mr. Forquer had completed a neat frame house--the best house then
in Springfield--and over it had erected a lightning rod, the only one
in the place and the first one Mr. Lincoln had ever seen. He afterwards
told me that seeing Forquer's lightning rod had led him to the study of
the properties of electricity and the utility of the rod as a conductor.
At the conclusion of Lincoln's speech the crowd was about dispersing,
when Forquer rose and asked to be heard. He commenced by saying that the
young man would have to be taken down, and was sorry the task devolved
on him. He then proceeded to answer Lincoln's speech in a style which,
while it was able and fair, in his whole manner asserted and claimed
superiority. Lincoln stood a few steps away with arms folded, carefully
watching the speaker and taking in everything he said. He was laboring
under a good deal of suppressed excitement. Forquer's sting had roused
the lion within him. At length Forquer concluded, and he mounted the
stand to reply.
"I have heard him often since," continued Speed, "in the courts and
before the people, but never saw him appear and acquit himself so well
as upon that occasion. His reply to Forquer was characterized by great
dignity and force. I shall never forget the conclusion of that speech:
'Mr. Forquer commenced his speech by announcing that the young man would
have to be taken down. It is for you, fellow citizens, not for me to
say whether I am up or down. The gentleman has seen fit to allude to my
being a young man; but he forgets that I am older in years than I am
in the tricks and trades of politicians. I desire to live, and I
desire place and distinction; but I would rather die now than, like the
gentleman, live to see the day that I would change my politics for an
office worth three thousand dollars a year, and then feel compelled to
erect a lightning rod to protect a guilty conscience from an offended
God,'" The effect of this rejoinder was wonderful, and gave Forquer and
his lightning rod a notoriety the extent of which no one envied him.
In the election which followed, Sangamon county in a political sense was
entirely turned over. Hitherto the Democrats had always carried it, but
now the Whigs gained control by an average majority of four hundred.
This time Lincoln led his ticket. The nine elected were, Abraham
Lincoln, Ninian W. Edwards, John Dawson, Andrew McCormick, Dan Stone,
Wm. F. Elkin, Robert L. Wilson, Job Fletcher, and Archer G. Herndon. The
last two were senators. On assembling at Vandalia they were at once,
on account of their stature, dubbed the "Long Nine." In height they
averaged over six feet, and in weight over two hundred pounds. "We were
not only noted," says one* of them, "for our number and length, but for
our combined influence. All the bad or objectional laws passed at that
session of the Legislature and for many years afterwards were chargeable
to the management and influence of the 'Long Nine.'" It is not my
purpose to enter into a detailed account of legislation at this period
or to rehearse the history of the political conditions. Many and
ingenious were the manoeuvres, but it would fill page after page to
narrate them. One thing which deserves mention in passing was "that
Yankee contrivance," the convention system, which for the first time was
brought into use. The Democrats, in obedience to the behests of Jackson,
had adopted it, and, singularly enough, among the very first named for
office under the operation of the new system was Stephen A. Douglas, who
was elected to the Legislature from Morgan county. Its introduction was
attributed to Ebenezer Peck, of Chicago, a Democrat who had once, it was
said, served in the Canadian Parliament. This latter supposed connection
with a monarchical institution was sufficient to bring down on his
head the united hostility of the Whigs, a feeling in which even Lincoln
joined. But after witnessing for a time the wonderful effects of its
discipline in Democratic ranks, the Whigs too fell in, and resorted to
the use of the improved machinery.
* 'DeWitt Clinton of Illinois.'"
The Legislature of which Mr. Lincoln thus became a member was one that
will never be forgotten in Illinois. Its legislation in aid of the
so-called internal improvement system was significantly reckless and
unwise. The gigantic and stupendous operations of the scheme dazzled the
eyes of nearly everybody, but in the end it rolled up a debt so enormous
as to impede the otherwise marvelous progress of Illinois. The burdens
imposed by this Legislature under the guise of improvements became
so monumental in size it is little wonder that at intervals for years
afterward the monster of repudiation often showed its hideous face above
the waves of popular indignation. These attempts at a settlement of the
debt brought about a condition of things which it is said led the Little
Giant, in one of his efforts on the stump, to suggest that "Illinois
ought to be honest if she never paid a cent." However much we may regret
that Lincoln took part and aided in this reckless legislation, we must
not forget that his party and all his constituents gave him their united
endorsement. They gave evidence of their approval of his course by two
subsequent elections to the same office. It has never surprised me in
the least that Lincoln fell so harmoniously in with the great system of
improvement. He never had what some people call "money sense." By reason
of his peculiar nature and construction he was endowed with none of the
elements of a political economist. He was enthusiastic and theoretical
to a certain degree; could take hold of, and wrap himself up in, a
great moral question; but in dealing with the financial and commercial
interests of a community or government he was equally as inadequate as
he was ineffectual in managing the economy of his own household. In this
respect alone I always regarded Mr. Lincoln as a weak man.
One of his biographers, describing his legislative career at this time,
says of him: "He was big with prospects: his real public service was
just now about to begin. In the previous Legislature he had been silent,
observant, studious. He had improved the opportunity so well that of all
men in this new body, of equal age in the service, he was the smartest
parliamentarian and cunningest 'log roller.' He was fully determined
to identify himself conspicuously with the liberal legislation in
contemplation, and dreamed of a fame very different from that which he
actually obtained as an anti-slavery leader. It was about this time he
told his friend Speed that he aimed at the great distinction of being
called the 'DeWitt Clinton of Illinois.'"
The representatives in the Legislature from Sangamon county had been
instructed by a mass convention of their constituents to vote "for
a general system of internal improvements." Another convention of
delegates from all the counties in the State met at Vandalia and made
a similar recommendation to the members of the Legislature, specifying
that it should be "commensurate with the wants of the people." Provision
was made for a gridiron of railroads. The extreme points of the State,
east and west, north and south, were to be brought together by thirteen
hundred miles of iron rails. Every river and stream of the least
importance was to be widened, deepened, and made navigable. A canal to
connect the Illinois River and Lake Michigan was to be dug, and thus the
great system was to be made "commensurate with the wants of the people."
To effect all these great ends, a loan of twelve million dollars
was authorized before the session closed. Work on all these gigantic
enterprises was to begin at the earliest practicable moment; cities were
to spring up everywhere; capital from abroad was to come pouring
in; attracted by the glowing reports of marvelous progress and great
internal wealth, people were to come swarming in by colonies, until in
the end Illinois was to outstrip all the others, and herself become the
Empire State of the Union.
Lincoln served on the Committee on Finance, and zealously labored
for the success of the great measures proposed, believing they would
ultimately enrich the State, and redound to the glory of all who aided
in their passage. In advocating these extensive and far-reaching plans
he was not alone. Stephen A. Douglas, John A. McClernand, James Shields,
and others prominent in the subsequent history of the State, were
equally as earnest in espousing the cause of improvement, and sharing
with him the glory that attended it. Next in importance came the bill
to remove the seat of government from Vandalia. Springfield, of course,
wanted it. So also did Alton, Decatur, Peoria, Jacksonville, and
Illiopolis. But the Long Nine, by their adroitness and influence, were
too much for their contestants. They made a bold fight for Springfield,
intrusting the management of the bill to Lincoln. The friends of other
cities fought Springfield bitterly, but under Lincoln's leadership the
Long Nine contested with them every inch of the way. The struggle
was warm and protracted. "Its enemies," relates one of Lincoln's
colleagues,* "laid it on the table twice. In those darkest hours when
our bill to all appearances was beyond resuscitation, and all our
opponents were jubilant over our defeat, and when friends could see no
hope, Mr. Lincoln never for one moment despaired; but collecting his
colleagues to his room for consultation, his practical common-sense, his
thorough knowledge of human nature, then made him an overmatch for his
compeers and for any man that I have ever known." The friends of the
bill at last surmounted all obstacles, and only a day or two before the
close of the session secured its passage by a joint vote of both houses.
* R. S. Wilson, MS.
Meanwhile the great agitation against human slavery, which like a rare
plant had flourished amid the hills of New England in luxuriant growth,
began to make its appearance in the West. Missionaries in the great
cause of human liberty were settling everywhere. Taunts, jeers,
ridicule, persecution, assassination even, were destined to prove
ineffectual in the effort to suppress or exterminate these pioneers of
Abolitionism. These brave but derided apostles carried with them the
seed of a great reform. Perhaps, as was then said of them, they were
somewhat in advance of their season, and perhaps too, some of the
seed might be sown in sterile ground and never come to life, but they
comforted themselves with the assurance that it would not all die. A
little here and there was destined to grow to life and beauty.
It is not surprising, I think, that Lincoln should have viewed this New
England importation with mingled suspicion and alarm. Abstractly, and
from the standpoint of conscience, he abhorred slavery. But born
in Kentucky, and surrounded as he was by slave-holding influences,
absorbing their prejudices and following in their line of thought, it
is not strange, I repeat, that he should fail to estimate properly the
righteous indignation and unrestrained zeal of a Yankee Abolitionist. On
the last day but one of the session, he solicited his colleagues to sign
with him a mild and carefully worded protest against certain resolutions
on the subject of domestic slavery, which had been passed by both houses
of the Legislature. They all declined, however, save one, Dan Stone,*
who with his associate will probably be known long after mention of all
other members of the Long Nine has dropped from history.
* Following are the resolutions against the passage of which
Lincoln and Stone made their protest:
Resolved by the General Assembly of the State of Illinois:
That we highly disapprove of the formation of Abolition
societies and of the doctrines promulgated by them,
That the right of property in slaves is sacred to the slave-
holding States by the Federal Constitution, and that they
cannot be deprived of that right without their consent,
That the General Government cannot abolish slavery in the
District of Columbia against the consent of the citizens of
said District, without a manifest breach of good faith,
That the Governor be requested to transmit to the States of
Virginia, Alabama, Mississippi, New York, and Connecticut, a
copy of the foregoing report and resolutions.
The language and sentiment are clearly Lincolnian, and over twenty years
afterward, when it was charged that Lincoln was an Abolitionist, and
this protest was cited as proof, it was only necessary to call for
a careful reading of the paper for an unqualified and overwhelming
refutation of the charge. The records of the Legislature for March 3,
1837, contain this entry:
"Resolutions upon the subject of domestic slavery having passed both
branches of the General Assembly at its present session, the undersigned
hereby protest against the passage of the same.
"They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both
injustice and bad policy, but that the promulgation of abolition
doctrines tends rather to increase than abate its evils.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under
the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery in the
different States.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power under
the Constitution to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, but
that the power ought not to be exercised unless at the request of the
people of the District. The difference between these opinions and, those
contained in the above resolutions is their reason for entering this
protest.
"Dan Stone,
"A. Lincoln,
"Representatives from the county of Sangamon."
This document so adroitly drawn and worded, this protest pruned of any
offensive allusions, and cautiously framed so as to suit the temper of
the times, stripped of its verbal foliage reveals in naked grandeur
the solemn truth that "the institution of slavery is founded on both
injustice and bad policy." A quarter of a century later finds one of
these protesters righting the injustice and correcting the bad policy of
the inhuman and diabolical institution.
The return of the "Long Nine" to Springfield was the occasion of much
enthusiasm and joy. The manifestations of public delight had never been
equalled before, save when the steamer _Talisman_ made its famous trip
down the Sangamon in 1831. The returning legislators were welcomed with
public dinners and the effervescent buncombe of local orators. Amid the
congratulations of warm friends and the approval of their enthusiastic
constituents, in which Lincoln received the lion's share of praise, they
separated, each departing to his own home.
After his return from the Legislature, Lincoln determined to remove to
Springfield, the county seat, and begin the practice of the law. Having
been so instrumental in securing the removal of the State Capital from
Vandalia, and having received such encouraging assurances from Major
John T. Stuart and other leading citizens, he felt confident of a good
start.*
* "Lincoln used to come to our office--Stuart's and mine--in
Springfield from New Salem and borrow law-books. Sometimes
he walked but generally rode. He was the most uncouth
looking young man I ever saw. He seemed to have but little
to say; seemed to feel timid, with a tinge of sadness
visible in the countenance, but when he did talk all this
disappeared for the time and he demonstrated that he was
both strong and acute. He surprised us more and more at
every visit."--Henry E. Dummer, Statement, Sept 16th, 1865.
He had little, if any, money, but hoped to find in Springfield, as he
had in New Salem, good and influential friends, who, recognizing alike
his honesty and his nobility of character, would aid him whenever a
crisis came and their help was needed. In this hope he was by no means
in error, for his subsequent history shows that he indeed united his
friends to himself with hooks of steel. I had up to this time frequently
seen Mr. Lincoln--had often, while visiting my cousins, James and
Rowan Herndon, at New Salem, met him at their house--but became warmly
attached to him soon after his removal to Springfield. There was
something in his tall and angular frame, his ill-fitting garments,
honest face, and lively humor that imprinted his individuality on my
affection and regard. What impression I made on him I had no means of
knowing till many years afterward. He was my senior by nine years, and
I looked up to him, naturally enough, as my superior in everything--a
thing I continued to do till the end of his days.
[Illustration: Springfield Court House 222]
Stuart and Lincoln's Office (in 1839), Second Floor, over
Furniture-Store. Photographed in 1888.
Now that the State capital was to be located at Springfield, that place
began, by way of asserting its social superiority, to put on a good
many airs. Wealth made its gaudy display, and thus sought to attain a
pre-eminence from which learning and refinement are frequently cut off.
Already, people had settled there who could trace their descent down
a long line of distinguished ancestry. The established families were
mainly from Kentucky. They re-echoed the sentiments and reflected the
arrogance and elegance of a slave-holding aristocracy. "The Todds,
Stuarts, and Edwardses were there, with priests, dogs, and servants;"
there also were the Mathers, Lambs, Opdykes, Forquers, and Fords. Amid
all "the flourishing about in carriages" and the pretentious elegance of
that early day was Lincoln. Of origin, doubtful if not unknown; "poor,
without the means of hiding his poverty," he represented yet another
importation from Kentucky which is significantly comprehended by the
term, "the poor whites." Springfield, containing between one and two
thousand people, was near the northern line of settlement in Illinois.
Still it was the center of a limited area of wealth and refinement. Its
citizens were imbued with the spirit of push and enterprise. Lincoln
therefore could not have been thrown into a better or more appreciative
community.
In March, 1837, he was licensed to practice law. His name appears for
the first time as attorney for the plaintiff in the case of Hawthorne
vs. Woolridge. He entered the office and became the partner of his
comrade in the Black Hawk war, John T. Stuart, who had gained rather
an extensive practice, and who, by the loan of sundry textbooks several
years before, had encouraged Lincoln to continue in the study of law.
Stuart had emigrated from Kentucky in 1828, and on account of his
nativity, if for no other reason, had great influence with the leading
people in Springfield. He used to relate that on the next morning after
his arrival in Springfield he was standing in front of the village
store, leaning against a post in the sidewalk and wondering how
to introduce himself to the community, when he was approached by a
well-dressed old gentleman, who, interesting himself in the newcomer's
welfare, enquired after his history and business. "I'm from Kentucky,"
answered Stuart, "and my profession is that of a lawyer, sir. What is
the prospect here?" Throwing his head back and closing his left eye the
old gentleman reflected a moment. "Young man, d------d slim chance for
that kind of a combination here," was the response.
At the time of Lincoln's entry into the office, Stuart was just
recovering from the effects of a congressional race in which he had been
the loser. He was still deeply absorbed in politics, and was preparing
for the next canvass, in which he was finally successful--defeating the
wily and ambitious Stephen A. Douglas. In consequence of the political
allurements, Stuart did not give to the law his undivided time or the
full force of his energy and intellect. Thus more or less responsibility
in the management of business and the conduct of cases soon devolved
on Lincoln. The entries in the account books of the firm are all in the
handwriting of Lincoln. Most of the declarations and pleas were written
by him also. This sort of exercise was never congenial to him, and it
was the only time, save a brief period under Judge Logan, that he served
as junior partner and performed the labor required of one who serves in
that rather subordinate capacity. He had not yet learned to love work.
The office of the firm was in the upper story of a building opposite
the north-west corner of the present Court-house Square. In the room
underneath, the county court was held. The furniture was in keeping with
the pretensions of the firm--a small lounge or bed, a chair containing
a buffalo robe, in which the junior member was wont to sit and study,
a hard wooden bench, a feeble attempt at a book-case, and a table
which answered for a desk. Lincoln's first attempt at settlement in
Springfield, which preceded a few days his partnership with Stuart,
has been graphically described by his friend, Joshua F. Speed, who
generously offered to share his quarters with the young legal aspirant.
Speed, who was a prosperous young merchant, reports that Lincoln's
personal effects consisted of a pair of saddle-bags containing two or
three lawbooks and a few pieces of clothing. "He had ridden into town
on a borrowed horse," relates Speed, "and engaged from the only
cabinet-maker in the village a single bedstead. He came into my store,
set his saddle-bags on the counter, and enquired what the furniture
for a single bedstead would cost. I took slate and pencil, made a
calculation, and found the sum for furniture complete would amount to
seventeen dollars in all. Said he: 'It is probably cheap enough; but I
want to say that, cheap as it is, I have not the money to pay. But if
you will credit me until Christmas, and my experiment here as a lawyer
is a success, I will pay you then. If I fail in that I will probably
never pay you at all.' The tone of his voice was so melancholy that I
felt for him. I looked up at him and I thought then, as I think now,
that I never saw so gloomy and melancholy a face in my life. I said
to him, 'So small a debt seems to affect you so deeply, I think I can
suggest a plan by which you will be able to attain your end without
incurring any debt. I have a very large room and a very large double bed
in it, which you are perfectly welcome to share with me if you choose.'
'Where is your room?' he asked.
"'Upstairs,' said I, pointing to the stairs leading from the store to
my room. Without saying a word he took his saddle-bags on his arm, went
upstairs, set them down on the floor, came down again, and with a face
beaming with pleasure and smiles, exclaimed, 'Well, Speed, I'm moved.'"
William Butler, who was prominent in the removal of the capital from
Vandalia to Springfield, took no little interest in Lincoln, while a
member of the Legislature. After his removal to Springfield, Lincoln
boarded at Butler's house for several years. He became warmly attached
to the family, and it is probable the matter of pay never entered
Butler's mind. He was not only able but willing to befriend the young
lawyer in this and many other ways.
Stephen T. Logan was judge of the Circuit court, and Stephen A. Douglas
was prosecuting attorney. Among the attorneys we find many promising
spirits. Edward D. Baker, John T. Stuart, Cyrus Walker, Samuel H. Treat,
Jesse B. Thomas, George Forquer, Dan Stone, Ninian W. Edwards, John J.
Hardin, Schuyler Strong, A. T. Bledsoe, and Josiah Lamborn--a galaxy of
names, each destined to shed more or less lustre on the history of
the State. While I am inclined to believe that Lincoln did not, after
entering Stuart's office, do as much deep and assiduous studying as
people generally credit him with, yet I am confident he absorbed not a
little learning by contact with the great minds who thronged about the
courts and State Capitol. The books of Stuart and Lincoln, during 1837,
show a practice more extensive than lucrative, for while they received a
number of fees, only two or there of them reached fifty dollars; and one
of these has a credit of: "Coat to Stuart, $15.00," showing that they
were compelled, now and then, even to "trade out" their earnings. The
litigation was as limited in importance as in extent. There were no
great corporations, as in this progressive day, retaining for counsel
the brains of the bar in every county seat, but the greatest as well
as the least had to join the general scramble for practice. The courts
consumed as much time deciding who had committed an assault or a
trespass on a neighbor's ground, as it spent in the solution
of questions arising on contracts, or unravelling similar legal
complications. Lawyers depended for success, not on their knowledge of
the law or their familiarity with its under-lying principles, but placed
their reliance rather on their frontier oratory and the influence of
their personal bearing before the jury.
Lincoln made Speed's store headquarters. There politics, religion, and
all other subjects were discussed. There also public sentiment was made.
The store had a large fire-place in the rear, and around it the lights
of the town collected every evening. As the sparks flew from the
crackling logs, another and more brilliant fire flashed when these great
minds came into collision. Here were wont to gather Lincoln, Douglas,
Baker, Calhoun, Browning, Lamborn, Jesse B. Thomas and others. Only
those who were present and listened to these embryonic statesmen and
budding orators will ever be able to recall their brilliant thoughts and
appreciate their youthful enthusiasm. In the fall and winter of 1837,
while I was attending college at Jacksonville, the persecution and death
of Elijah P. Lovejoy at Alton took place. This cruel and uncalled for
murder had aroused the anti-slavery sentiment everywhere. It penetrated
the college, and both faculty and students were loud and unrestrained
in their denunciation of the crime. My father, who was thoroughly
pro-slavery in his ideas, believing that the college was too strongly
permeated with the virus of Abolitionism, forced me to withdraw from the
institution and return home. But it was too late. My soul had absorbed
too much of what my father believed was rank poison. The murder of
Lovejoy filled me with more desperation than the slave scene in New
Orleans did Lincoln; for while he believed in non-interference with
slavery, so long as the Constitution permitted and authorized its
existence, I, although acting nominally with the Whig party up to 1853,
struck out for Abolitionism pure and simple.
On my return to Springfield from college, I hired to Joshua F. Speed
as clerk in his store. My salary, seven hundred dollars per annum, was
considered good pay then. Speed, Lincoln, Charles R. Hurst, and I slept
in the room upstairs over the store. I had worked for Speed before going
to college, and after hiring to him this time again, continued in his
employ for several years. The young men who congregated about the store
formed a society for the encouragement of debate and literary efforts.
Sometimes we would meet in a lawyer's office and often in Speed's room.
Besides the debates, poems and other original productions were read.
Unfortunately we ruled out the ladies. I am free to admit I would not
encourage a similar thing nowadays; but in that early day the young men
had not the comforts of books and newspapers which are within the reach
of every boy now. Some allowance therefore should be made for us. I have
forgotten the name of the society--if it had any--and can only recall a
few of its leading spirits. Lincoln, James Matheney, Noah Rickard, Evan
Butler, Milton Hay, and Newton Francis were members. I joined also.
Matheney was secretary.* We were favored with all sorts of literary
productions. Lincoln one night entertained us with a few lines of rhyme
intended to illustrate some weakness in woman--her frailty, perhaps.
Unfortunately, the manuscript has not been preserved. Matheney was able,
several years ago, to repeat a single stanza, but claimed that after the
lapse of so many years it was all he could recall. Perhaps in the end it
is best his memory was no more retentive. Reproduced here exactly as
in the original, it might suggest more than one construction or offend
against the canons of approved taste; in either event I shall omit it.
* Near Hoffman's Row, where the Courts were held in 1839-40,
lived a shoemaker who frequently would get drunk and
invariably whipped his wife. Lincoln, hearing of this, told
the man if he ever repeated it he would thrash him soundly
himself. Meanwhile he told Evan Butler, Noah Rickard, and
myself of it, and we decided if the offense occurred again
to join with Lincoln in suppressing it. In due course of
time we heard of it. We dragged the offender up to the
court-house, stripped him of his shirt, and tied him to a
post or pump which stood over the well in the yard back of
the building. Then we sent for his wife and arming her with
a good limb bade her "light in." We sat on our haunches and
watched the performance. The wife did her work lustily and
well. When we thought the culprit had had enough Lincoln
released him; we helped him on with his shirt and he crept
sorrowfully homeward. Of course he threatened vengeance, but
still we heard no further reports of wife-whipping from
him.--James H. Matheney.
Besides this organization we had a society in Springfield, which
contained and commanded all the culture and talent of the place. Unlike
the other one its meetings were public, and reflected great credit on
the community. We called it the "Young Men's Lyceum." Late in 1837,
Lincoln delivered before the society a carefully prepared address on the
"Perpetuation of Our Free Institutions."*
*Mr. Lincoln's speech was brought out by the burning of a
negro in St. Louis a few weeks before by a mob. Lincoln took
this incident as a sort of text for his remarks. James
Matheney was appointed by the Lyceum to request of Lincoln a
copy of his speech and see to its publication.
The inspiration and burthen of it was law and order. It has been printed
in full so often, and is always to be found in the list of Lincoln's
public speeches, that I presume I need not reproduce it here. It was
highly sophomoric in character and abounded in striking and lofty
metaphor. In point of rhetorical effort it excels anything he ever
afterward attempted. Probably it was the thing people expect from a
young man of twenty-eight. The address was published in the _Sangamon
Journal_ and created for the young orator a reputation which soon
extended beyond the limits of the locality in which he lived. As
illustrative of his style of oratory, I beg to introduce the concluding
paragraph of the address. Having characterized the surviving soldiers
of the Revolution as "living histories," he closes with this thrilling
flourish: "But these histories are gone. They can be read no more
forever. They were a fortress of strength; but what invading foeman
never could do, the silent artillery of time has--the levelling of
its walls. They are gone. They were a forest of giant oaks; but the
all-resistless hurricane has swept over them, and left only here and
there a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage,
unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few more gentle breezes, and to
combat with its mutilated limbs a few more rude storms, then to sink
and be no more. They were pillars of the temple of liberty, and now
that they have crumbled away, that temple must fall, unless we, their
descendants, supply their places with other pillars hewn from the same
solid quarry of sober reason. Passion has helped us, but can do so
no more. It will in future be our enemy. Reason--cold, calculating,
unimpassioned reason--must furnish all the materials for our future
support and defense. Let these materials be moulded into general
intelligence, sound morality, and in particular, a reverence for the
Constitution and the laws. * * * Upon these let the proud fabric of
freedom rest as the rock of its basis, and as truly as has been said
of the only greater institution, 'The gates of hell shall not prevail
against it.'"
In time Lincoln's style changed: he became more eloquent but with less
gaudy ornamentation. He grew in oratorical power, dropping gradually the
alliteration and rosy metaphor of youth, until he was able at last to
deliver that grandest of all orations--the Gettysburg address.
One evening, while the usual throng of loungers surrounded the inviting
fireplace in Speed's store, the conversation turned on political
matters. The disputants waxed warm and acrimonious as the discussion
proceeded. Business being over for the day, I strolled back and seating
myself on a keg listened with eager interest to the battle going on
among these would-be statesmen. Douglas, I recollect, was leading on the
Democratic side. He had already learned the art of dodging in debate,
but still he was subtle, fiery, and impetuous. He charged the Whigs with
every blunder and political crime he could imagine. No vulnerable spot
seemed to have escaped him. At last, with great vehemence, he sprang up
and abruptly made a challenge to those who differed with him to discuss
the whole matter publicly, remarking that, "This store is no place to
talk politics," In answer to Douglas's challenge the contest was entered
into. It took place in the Presbyterian Church. Douglas, Calhoun,
Lamborn, and Thomas represented the Democrats; and Logan, Baker,
Browning, and Lincoln, in the order named, presented the Whig side
of the question. One evening was given to each man, and it therefore
required over a week to complete the tournament. Lincoln occupied the
last evening, and although the people by that time had necessarily grown
a little tired of the monotony and well-worn repetition, yet Lincoln's
manner of presenting his thoughts and answering his Democratic opponents
excited renewed interest. So deep was the impression he created that
he was asked to furnish his speech to the _Sangamon Journal_ for
publication, and it afterwards appeared in the columns of that organ.
[Illustration: First Presbyterian in Springfield 237]
Photographed in 1888.
Meanwhile Mr. Lincoln had attended one special session of the
Legislature in July, 1837. The session was called to take some action
with regard to the financial condition of the State. The Bank of the
United States and the New York and Philadelphia Banks had suspended
specie payments. This action had precipitated general ruin among
business men and interests over the entire country. The called session
of the Legislature was intended to save the Illinois banks from
impending dissolution. Lincoln retained his position on the Committee on
Finance, and had lost none of his enthusiasm over the glorious prospects
of internal improvements. The Legislature, instead of abridging, only
extended the already colossal proportions of the great system. In
this they paid no heed to the governor, whose head seems to have been
significantly clear on the folly of the enterprise.
In 1838 Mr. Lincoln was again elected to the Legislature. At this
session, as the nominee of the Whig party, he received thirty-eight
votes for Speaker. Wm. L. D. Ewing, his successful competitor, the
Democratic candidate, received forty-three votes, and was elected.
Besides retaining his place on the Finance Committee, Lincoln was
assigned to the Committee on Counties. The enthusiasm and zeal of the
friends of internal improvements began to flag now in view of the fact
that the bonds issued were beginning to find their true level in point
of value. Lincoln, together with others of kindred views, tried to
bolster the "system" up; but soon the discouraging fact became apparent
that no more money could be obtained, and the Legislature began
to descant on what part of the debt was lawful and what unlawful.
Repudiation seemed not far off. Mr. Lincoln despaired now of ever
becoming the "DeWitt Clinton of Illinois." We find him admitting
"his share of the responsibility in the present crisis," and finally
concluding that he was "no financier" after all. No sooner had the
Legislature adjourned than he decided--if he had not already so
determined--to run for the same place again. He probably wanted it for
a vindication. He was pursued now more fiercely than ever, and he was
better able to endure the vilification of a political campaign than when
he first offered himself to the voters in New Salem.
Among the Democratic orators who stumped the county at this time was one
Taylor--commonly known as Col. Dick Taylor. He was a showy, bombastic
man, with a weakness for fine clothes and other personal adornments.
Frequently he was pitted against Lincoln, and indulged in many bitter
flings at the lordly ways and aristocratic pretensions of the Whigs. He
had a way of appealing to "his horny-handed neighbors," and resorted to
many other artful tricks of a demagogue. When he was one day expatiating
in his accustomed style, Lincoln, in a spirit of mischief and, as he
expressed it, "to take the wind out of his sails," slipped up to the
speaker's side, and catching his vest by the lower edge gave it a sharp
pull. The latter instantly opened and revealed to his astonished hearers
a ruffled shirt-front glittering with watch-chain, seals, and other
golden jewels. The effect was startling. The speaker stood confused
and dumbfounded, while the audience roared with laughter. When it came
Lincoln's turn to answer he covered the gallant colonel over in this
style: "While Colonel Taylor was making these charges against the Whigs
over the country, riding in fine carriages, wearing ruffled shirts, kid
gloves, massive gold watch-chains with large gold seals, and flourishing
a heavy gold-headed cane, I was a poor boy, hired on a flat-boat at
eight dollars a month, and had only one pair of breeches to my back, and
they were buckskin. Now if you know the nature of buckskin when wet and
dried by the sun, it will shrink; and my breeches kept shrinking until
they left several inches of my legs bare between the tops of my socks
and the lower part of my breeches; and whilst I was growing taller they
were becoming shorter, and so much tighter that they left a blue
streak around my legs that can be seen to this day. If you call this
aristocracy I plead guilty to the charge."*
* From MS. of Ninian W. Edwards.
It was during this same canvass that Lincoln by his manly interference
protected his friend E. D. Baker from the anger of an infuriated crowd.
Baker was a brilliant and effective speaker, and quite as full too of
courage as invective. He was addressing a crowd in the court room, which
was immediately underneath Stuart and Lincoln's office. Just above the
platform on which the speaker stood was a trap door in the floor, which
opened into Lincoln's office. Lincoln at the time, as was often his
habit, was lying on the floor looking down through the door at the
speaker. I was in the body of the crowd. Baker was hot-headed and
impulsive, but brave as a lion. Growing warm in his arraignment of the
Democratic party, he charged that "wherever there was a land office
there was a Democratic newspaper to defend its corruptions." This
angered the brother of the editor of our town paper, who was present,
and who cried out, "Pull him down," at the same time advancing from
the crowd as if to perform the task himself. Baker, his face pale with
excitement, squared himself for resistance. A shuffling of feet, a
forward movement of the crowd, and great confusion followed. Just then
a long pair of legs were seen dangling from the aperture above, and
instantly the figure of Lincoln dropped on the platform. Motioning
with his hands for silence and not succeeding, he seized a stone
water-pitcher standing near by, threatening to break it over the head of
the first man who laid hands on Baker. "Hold on, gentlemen," he shouted,
"this is the land of free speech. Mr. Baker has a right to speak and
ought to be heard. I am here to protect him, and no man shall take him
from this stand if I can prevent it." His interference had the desired
effect. Quiet was soon restored, and the valiant Baker was allowed
to proceed. I was in the back part of the crowd that night, and an
enthusiastic Baker man myself. I knew he was a brave man, and even if
Lincoln had not interposed, I felt sure he wouldn't have been pulled
from the platform without a bitter struggle.
This canvass--1840--was Mr. Lincoln's last campaign for the Legislature.
Feeling that he had had enough honor out of the office he probably
aspired for a place of more distinction. Jesse B. Thomas, one of the
men who had represented the Democratic side in the great debate in
the Presbyterian Church, in a speech at the court-house during this
campaign, indulged in some fun at the expense of the "Long Nine,"
reflecting somewhat more on Lincoln than the rest. The latter was
not present, but being apprised by his friends of what had been said,
hastened to the meeting, and soon after Thomas closed, stepped upon the
platform and responded. The substance of his speech on this occasion
was not so memorable as the manner of its delivery. He felt the sting of
Thomas's allusions, and for the first time, on the stump or in public,
resorted to mimicry for effect. In this, as will be seen later along, he
was without a rival. He imitated Thomas in gesture and voice, at times
caricaturing his walk and the very motion of his body. Thomas, like
everybody else, had some peculiarities of expression and gesture, and
these Lincoln succeeded in rendering more prominent than ever. The crowd
yelled and cheered as he continued. Encouraged by these demonstrations,
the ludicrous features of the speaker's performance gave way to intense
and scathing ridicule. Thomas, who was obliged to sit near by and
endure the pain of this unique ordeal, was ordinarily sensitive; but the
exhibition goaded him to desperation. He was so thoroughly wrought up
with suppressed emotion that he actually gave way to tears. I was not a
witness of this scene, but the next day it was the talk of the town, and
for years afterwards it was called the "skinning" of Thomas. Speed was
there, so were A. Y. Ellis, Ninian W. Edwards, and David Davis, who was
just then coming into prominence. The whole thing was so unlike Lincoln,
it was not soon forgotten either by his friends or enemies. I heard him
afterwards say that the recollection of his conduct that evening filled
him with the deepest chagrin. He felt that he had gone too far, and to
rid his good-nature of a load, hunted up Thomas and made ample apology.
The incident and its sequel proved that Lincoln could not only be
vindictive but manly as well.
He was selected as an Elector on the Harrison ticket for President in
1840, and as such stumped over a good portion of the State. In debate he
frequently met Douglas, who had already become the standard-bearer and
exponent of Democratic principles. These joint meetings were spirited
affairs sometimes; but at no time did he find the Little Giant averse
to a conflict. "He was very sensitive," relates one of his colleagues on
the stump, "where he thought he had failed to meet the expectations of
his friends. I remember a case. He was pitted by the Whigs in 1840 to
debate with Mr. Douglas, the Democratic champion. Lincoln did not come
up to the requirements of the occasion. He was conscious of his failure,
and I never saw any man so much distressed. He begged to be permitted
to try it again, and was reluctantly indulged; and in the next effort he
transcended our highest expectations.* I never heard and never expect to
hear such a triumphant vindication as he then gave of Whig measures or
policy. He never after, to my knowledge, fell below himself."
* Joseph Gillespie, MS. letter, June 5, '66.
The campaign ended in his election to the Legislature. He was again the
caucus nominee of the Whigs for Speaker, receiving thirty-six votes; but
his former antagonist, William L. D. Ewing, was elected by a majority
of ten votes over him. The proceedings of, and laws enacted by, this
Legislature are so much a matter of history and so generally known that
it seems a needless task on my part to enter into details. It is proper
to note, however, in passing, that Mr. Lincoln was neither prompt nor
constant in his attendance during the session. He had been to a certain
extent "upset" by another love affair, the particulars of which must be
assigned to a future chapter.