Jas. Shields, Esq.:--
Your note of to-day was handed me by General Whiteside. In that note you
say you have been informed, through the medium of the editor of the
Journal, that I am the author of certain articles in that paper which
you deem personally abusive of you; and, without stopping to inquire
whether I really am the author, or to point out what is offensive in
them, you demand an unqualified retraction of all that is offensive, and
then proceed to hint at consequences.
Now, sir, there is in this so much assumption of facts, and so much of
menace as to consequences, that I cannot submit to answer that note
any further than I have, and to add, that the consequences to which
I suppose you allude would be matter of as great regret to me as it
possibly could to you.
Respectfully,
A. Lincoln.
[Illustration: James Shields 297]
In about an hour, General Whiteside called again with another note from
Mr. Shields; but after conferring with Mr. Butler for a long time, say
two or three hours, returned without presenting the note to Mr. Lincoln.
This was in consequence of an assurance from Mr. Butler that Mr. Lincoln
could not receive any communication from Mr. Shields, unless it were a
withdrawal of his first note, or a challenge. Mr. Butler further stated
to General Whiteside, that, on the withdrawal of the first note, and a
proper and gentlemanly request for an explanation, he had no doubt one
would be given. General Whiteside admitted that that was the course Mr.
Shields ought to pursue, but deplored that his furious and intractable
temper prevented his having any influence with him to that end. General
Whiteside then requested us to wait with him until Monday morning, that
he might endeavor to bring Mr. Shields to reason.
On Monday morning he called and presented Mr. Lincoln the same note as
Mr. Butler says he had brought on Saturday evening. It was as follows:--
Tremont, September 17, 1842.
A. Lincoln, Esq.:--
In your reply to my note of this date, you intimate that I assume facts
and menace consequences, and that you cannot submit to answer it
further. As now, sir, you desire it, I will be a little more particular.
The editor of the _Sangamon Journal_ gave me to understand that you are
the author of an article which appeared, I think, in that paper of the
2d September inst., headed "The Lost Townships" and signed Rebecca or
'Becca. I would therefore take the liberty of asking whether you are the
author of said article, or any other of the same signature which has
appeared in any of the late numbers of that paper. If so, I repeat my
request of an absolute retraction of all offensive allusions contained
therein in relation to my private character and standing.
If you are not the author of any of the articles, your denial will be
sufficient. I will say further, it is not my intention to menace, but to
do myself justice.
Your ob't serv't,
Jas. Shields.
This Mr. Lincoln perused, and returned to General Whiteside, telling
him verbally, that he did not think it consistent with his honor to
negotiate for peace with Mr. Shields, unless Mr. Shields would withdraw
his former offensive letter.
In a very short time General Whiteside called with a note from Mr.
Shields, designating General Whiteside as his friend, to which Mr.
Lincoln instantly replied designating me as his. On meeting General
Whiteside, he proposed that we should pledge our honor to each other
that we would endeavor to settle the matter amicably; to which I agreed,
and stated to him the only conditions on which it could be settled;
viz., the withdrawal of Mr. Shields's first note, which he appeared to
think reasonable, and regretted that the note had been written, saying
however, that he had endeavored to prevail on Mr. Shields to write a
milder one, but had not succeeded. He added, too, that I must promise
not to mention it, as he would not dare to let Mr. Shields know that he
was negotiating peace; for, said he, "He would challenge me next, and
as soon cut my throat as not." Not willing that he should suppose my
principal less dangerous than his own, I promised not to mention our
pacific intentions to Mr. Lincoln or any other person; and we started
for Springfield forthwith.
We all, except Mr. Shields, arrived in Springfield late at night on
Monday. We discovered that the affair had, somehow, got great publicity
in Springfield, and that an arrest was probable. To prevent this, it was
agreed by Mr. Lincoln and myself that he should leave early on Tuesday
morning. Accordingly, he prepared the following instructions for my
guide, on a suggestion from Mr. Butler that he had reason to believe
that an attempt would be made by the opposite party to have the matter
accommodated:
In case Whiteside shall signify a wish to adjust this affair without
further difficulty, let him know that, if the present papers be
withdrawn, and a note from Mr. Shields asking to know if I am the author
of the articles of which he complains, and asking that I shall make him
gentlemanly satisfaction if I am the author, and this without menace or
dictation as to what that satisfaction shall be, a pledge is made that
the following answer shall be given:
"I did write the 'Lost Township' letter which appeared in the Journal of
the 2d inst., but had no participation in any form in any other article
alluding to you. I wrote that wholly for political effect. I had no
intention of injuring your personal or private character, or standing
as a man or a gentleman; and I did not then think, and do not now think,
that that article could produce, or has produced, that effect against
you; and had I anticipated such an effect, I would have forborne to
write it. And I will add, that your conduct towards me, so far as I
knew, had always been gentlemanly, and that I had no personal pique
against you, and no cause for any."
If this should be done, I leave it with you to manage what shall and
what shall not be published.
If nothing like this is done, the preliminaries of the fight are to be:
1st. Weapons:--Cavalry broadswords of the largest size, precisely
equal in all respects, and such as now used by the cavalry company at
Jacksonville.
2d. Position:--A plank ten feet long, and from nine to twelve inches
broad, to be firmly fixed on edge on the ground as the lines between us,
which neither is to pass his foot over upon forfeit of his life. Next,
a line drawn on the ground on either side of said plank and parallel
with it, each at the distance of the whole length of the sword and three
feet additional from the plank; and the passing of his own such line
by either party during the fight shall be deemed a surrender of the
contest.
3d. Time:--On Thursday evening at five o'clock, if you can get it so;
but in no case to be at a greater distance of time than Friday evening
at 5 o'clock.
4th. Place:--Within three miles of Alton, on the opposite side of the
river, the particular spot to be agreed on by you.
Any preliminary details coming within the above rules, you are at
liberty to make at your discretion; but you are in no case to swerve
from these rules, or to pass beyond their limits.
In the course of the forenoon I met General Whiteside, and he again
intimated a wish to adjust the matter amicably. I then read to him Mr.
Lincoln's instructions to an adjustment, and the terms of the hostile
meeting, if there must be one, both at the same time.
He replied that it was useless to talk of an adjustment, if it could
only be effected by the withdrawal of Mr. Shields's paper, for such
withdrawal Mr. Shields would never consent to; adding, that he would as
soon think of asking Mr. Shields to "butt his brains out against a
brick wall as to withdraw that paper." He proceeded: "I see but one
course--that is a desperate remedy: 'tis to tell them, if they will not
make the matter up, they must fight us." I replied, that, if he chose to
fight Mr. Shields to compel him to do right, he might do so; but as for
Mr. Lincoln, he was on the defensive, and, I believe, in the right, and
I should do nothing to compel him to do wrong. Such withdrawal having
been made indispensable by Mr. Lincoln, I cut the matter short as to an
adjustment, and I proposed to General Whiteside to accept the terms of
the fight, which he refused to do until Mr. Shields' arrival in town,
but agreed, verbally, that Mr. Lincoln's friends should procure the
broadswords, and take them to the ground. In the afternoon he came to
me, saying that some persons were swearing out affidavits to have us
arrested, and that he intended to meet Mr. Shields immediately, and
proceed to the place designated, lamenting, however, that I would not
delay the time, that he might procure the interference of Governor
Ford and General Ewing to mollify Mr. Shields. I told him that an
accommodation, except upon the terms I mentioned, was out of question;
that to delay the meeting was to facilitate our arrest; and, as I
was determined not to be arrested, I should leave the town in fifteen
minutes. I then pressed his acceptance of the preliminaries, which he
disclaimed upon the ground that it would interfere with his oath of
office as Fund Commissioner. I then, with two other friends, went to
Jacksonville, where we joined Mr. Lincoln about 11 o'clock on Tuesday
night. Wednesday morning we procured the broadswords, and proceeded to
Alton, where we arrived about 11 o'clock A. M., on Thursday. The other
party were in town before us. We crossed the river, and they soon
followed. Shortly after, General Hardin and Dr. English presented to
General Whiteside and myself the following note:
Alton, September 22, 1842.
Messrs. Whiteside and Merryman: As the mutual personal friends of
Messrs. Shields and Lincoln, but without authority from either, we
earnestly desire to see a reconciliation of the misunderstanding
which exists between them. Such difficulties should always be arranged
amicably, if it is possible to do so with honor to both parties.
Believing, ourselves, that such an arrangement can possibly be effected,
we respectfully but earnestly submit the following proposition for your
consideration:
Let the whole difficulty be submitted to four or more gentlemen, to
be selected by ourselves, who shall consider the affair, and report
thereupon for your consideration. John J. Hardin,
R. W. English.
To this proposition General Whiteside agreed: I declined doing so
without consulting Mr. Lincoln. Mr. Lincoln remarked that, as they had
accepted the proposition, he would do so, but directed that his friends
should make no terms except those first proposed. Whether the adjustment
was finally made upon these very terms and no other, let the following
documents attest:
Missouri, September 22, 1842.
Gentlemen:--All papers in relation to the matter in controversy between
Mr. Shields and Mr. Lincoln having been withdrawn by the friends of the
parties concerned, the friends of Mr. Shields ask the friends of Mr.
Lincoln to explain all offensive matter in the articles which appeared
in the Sangamon Journal of the 2d, 9 th, and 16th of September, under
the signature of "Rebecca," and headed "Lost Townships."
It is due General Hardin and Mr. English to state that their
interference was of the most courteous and gentlemanly character.
John D. Whiteside.
Wm. Lee D. Ewing.
T. M. Hope.
Missouri, September 22, 1842.
Gentlemen:--All papers in relation to the matter in controversy between
Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Shields having been withdrawn by the friends of
the parties concerned, we, the undersigned, friends of Mr. Lincoln,
in accordance with your request that explanation of Mr. Lincoln's
publication in relation to Mr. Shields in the Sangamon Journal of the
2d, 9th, and 16th of September be made, take pleasure in saying, that,
although Mr. Lincoln was the writer of the article signed "Rebecca"
in the Journal of the 2d, and that only, yet he had no intention of
injuring the personal or private character or standing of Mr. Shields
as a gentleman or a man, and that Mr. Lincoln did not think, nor does he
now think, that said article could produce such an effect; and, had Mr.
Lincoln anticipated such an effect, he would have forborne to write
it. We will state further, that said article was written solely for
political effect, and not to gratify any personal pique against Mr.
Shields, for he had none and knew of no cause for any. It is due to
General Hardin and Mr. English to say that their interference was of the
most courteous and gentlemanly character.
E. H. Merryman.
A. T. Bledsoe.
Wm. Butler.
Let it be observed now, that Mr. Shields's friends, after agreeing to
the arbitrament of four disinterested gentlemen, declined the contract,
saying that Mr. Shields wished his own friends to act for him. They then
proposed that we should explain without any withdrawal of papers.
This was promptly and firmly refused, and General Whiteside himself
pronounced the papers withdrawn. They then produced a note requesting
us to "disavow" all offensive intentions in the publications, etc., etc.
This we declined answering, and only responded to the above request for
an explanation.
These are the material facts in relation to the matter, and I think
present the case in a very different light from the garbled and
curtailed statement of General Whiteside. Why he made that statement
I know not, unless he wished to detract from the honor of Mr. Lincoln.
This was ungenerous, more particularly as he on the ground requested us
not to make in our explanation any quotations from the "Rebecca papers;"
also, not to make public the terms of reconciliation, and to unite with
them in defending the honorable character of the adjustment.
General Whiteside, in his publication, says: "The friends of both
parties agreed to withdraw the papers (temporarily) to give the friends
of Mr. Lincoln an opportunity to explain." This I deny. I say the papers
were withdrawn to enable Mr. Shields's friends to ask an explanation;
and I appeal to the documents for proof of my position.
By looking over these documents, it will be seen that Mr. Shields
had not before asked for an explanation, but had all the time been
dictatorially insisting on a retraction.
General Whiteside, in his communication, brings to light much of Mr.
Shields's manifestations of bravery behind the scenes. I can do nothing
of the kind for Mr. Lincoln. He took his stand when I first met him at
Tremont, and maintained it calmly to the last, without difficulty or
difference between himself and his friends.
I cannot close this article, lengthy as it is, without testifying to
the honorable and gentlemanly conduct of General Ewing and Dr. Hope,
nor indeed can I say that I saw anything objectionable in the course
of General Whiteside up to the time of his communication. This is so
replete with prevarication and misrepresentation, that I cannot accord
to the General that candor which I once supposed him to possess. He
complains that I did not procrastinate time according to agreement. He
forgets that by his own act he cut me off from that chance in inducing
me, by promise, not to communicate our secret contract to Mr. Lincoln.
Moreover, I could see no consistency in wishing for an extension of
time at that stage of the affair, when in the outset they were in so
precipitate a hurry that they could not wait three days for Mr. Lincoln
to return from Tremont, but must hasten there, apparently with the
intention of bringing the matter to a speedy issue. He complains, too,
that, after inviting him to take a seat in the buggy I never broached
the subject to him on our route here. But was I, the defendant in the
case, with a challenge hanging over me, to make advances, and beg a
reconciliation?
Absurd! Moreover, the valorous General forgets that he beguiled the
tedium of the journey by recounting to me his exploits in many a
well-fought battle,--dangers by "flood and field," in which I don't
believe he ever participated,--doubtless with a view to produce a
salutary effect on my nerves, and impress me with a proper notion of his
fire-eat-ing propensities..
One more main point of his argument and I have done. The General seems
to be troubled with a convenient shortness of memory on some occasions.
He does not remember that any explanations were offered at any time,
unless it were a paper read when the "broadsword proposition" was
tendered, when his mind was so confused by the anticipated clatter of
broadswords, or something else, that he did "not know fully what it
purported to be." The truth is, that, by unwisely refraining from
mentioning it to his principal, he placed himself in a dilemma which he
is now endeavoring to shuffle out of. By his inefficiency and want of
knowledge of those laws which govern gentlemen in matters of this
kind, he has done great injustice to his principal, a gentleman who, I
believe, is ready at all times to vindicate his honor manfully, but who
has been unfortunate in the selection of his friends, and this fault he
is now trying to wipe out by doing an act of still greater injustice to
Mr. Lincoln.
E. H. Merryman.
* The following letter from Lincoln to his friend Speed
furnishes the final outcome of the "duelling business."
"Springfield, October 5, 1842.
"Dear Speed:-
"You have heard of my duel with Shields, and I have now to
inform you that the duelling business still rages in this
city. Day before yesterday Shields challenged Butler, who
accepted, proposed fighting next morning at sunrising in Bob
Allen's meadow, one hundred yards distance, with rifles. To
this Whiteside, Shields's second, said 'no' because of the
law. Thus ended duel No. 2. Yesterday Whiteside chose to
consider himself insulted by Dr. Merryman, so sent him a
kind of quasi-challenge inviting him to meet him at the
Planter's House in St. Louis, on the next Friday, to settle
their difficulty. Merryman made me his friend, and sent
Whiteside a note, inquiring to know if he meant his note as
a challenge, and if so, that he would, according to the law
in such case made and provided, prescribe the terms of the
meeting. Whiteside returned for answer that if Merryman
would meet him at the Planter's House as desired, he would
challenge him. Merryman replied in a note, that he denied
Whiteside's right to dictate time and place, but that he
(Merryman) would waive the question of time, and meet him at
Louisiana, Mo. Upon my presenting this note to Whiteside,
and stating verbally its contents, he declined receiving it,
saying he had business in St. Louis, and it was as near as
Louisiana. Merryman then directed me to notify Whiteside
that he should publish the correspondence between them, with
such comments as he saw fit. This I did. Thus it stood at
bed-time last night. This morning Whiteside, by his friend
Shields, is praying for a new trial, on the ground that he
was mistaken in Merryman's proposition to meet him at
Louisiana, Mo., thinking it was the State of Louisiana. This
Merryman hoots at, and is preparing his publication; while
the town is in a ferment, and a street-fight somewhat
anticipated.
"Yours forever,
"Lincoln."
Dr. Merryman's elaborate and graphic account of the meeting at the
duelling ground and all the preliminary proceedings is as full and
complete a history of this serio-comic affair as any historian could
give. Mr. Lincoln, as mentioned in the outset of this chapter, in the
law office and elsewhere, as a rule, refrained from discussing it. I
only remember of hearing him say this, in reference to the duel: "I did
not intend to hurt Shields unless I did so clearly in self-defense. If
it had been necessary I could have split him from the crown of his head
to the end of his backbone," and when one takes into into consideration
the conditions of weapons and position required in his instructions to
Dr. Merryman the boast does not seem impossible.
The marriage of Lincoln in no way diminished his love for politics; in
fact, as we shall see later along, it served to stimulate his zeal in
that direction. He embraced every opportunity that offered for a speech
in public. Early in 1842 he entered into the Washingtonian movement
organized to suppress the evils of intemperance. At the request of the
society he delivered an admirable address, on Washington's birthday, in
the Presbyterian Church, which, in keeping with former efforts, has
been so often published that I need not quote it in full. I was then an
ardent temperance reformer myself, and remember well how one paragraph
of Lincoln's speech offended the church members who were present.
Speaking of certain Christians who objected to the association of
drunkards, even with the chance of reforming them, he said: "If they
(the Christians) believe, as they profess, that Omnipotence condescended
to take on himself the form of sinful man, and as such die an
ignominious death, surely they will not refuse submission to the
infinitely lesser condescension, for the temporal and perhaps
eternal salvation of a large, erring, and unfortunate class of their
fellow-creatures. Nor is the condescension very great. In my judgment
such of us as have never fallen victims have been spared more from the
absence of appetite than from any mental or moral superiority over those
who have. Indeed, I believe, if we take habitual drunkards as a class,
their heads and their hearts will bear an advantageous comparison with
those of any other class." The avowal of these sentiments proved to be
an unfortunate thing for Lincoln. The professing Christians regarded
the suspicion suggested in the first sentence as a reflection on the
sincerity of their belief, and the last one had no better effect in
reconciling them to his views. I was at the door of the church as the
people passed out, and heard them discussing the speech. Many of them
were open in the expression of their displeasure. "It's a shame," I
heard one man say, "that he should be permitted to abuse us so in the
house of the Lord." The truth was the society was composed mainly of the
roughs and drunkards of the town, who had evinced a desire to reform.
Many of them were too fresh from the gutter to be taken at once into the
society of such people as worshipped at the church where the speech was
delivered. Neither was there that concert of effort so universal to-day
between the churches and temperance societies to rescue the fallen. The
whole thing, I repeat, was damaging to Lincoln, and gave rise to the
opposition on the part of the churches which confronted him several
years afterwards when he became a candidate against the noted Peter
Cartwright for Congress. The charge, therefore, that in matters of
religion he was a skeptic was not without its supporters, especially
where his opponent was himself a preacher. But, nothing daunted,
Lincoln kept on and labored zealously in the interest of the temperance
movement. He spoke often again in Springfield, and also in other places
over the country, displaying the same courage and adherence to principle
that characterized his every undertaking.
Meanwhile, he had one eye open for politics as he moved along. He was
growing more self-reliant in the practice of law every day, and felt
amply able to take charge of and maintain himself in any case that
happened to come into his hands. His propensity for the narration of
an apt story was of immeasurable aid to him before a jury, and in cases
where the law seemed to lean towards the other side won him many a case.
In 1842, Martin Van Buren, who had just left the Presidential chair,
made a journey through the West. He was accompanied by his former
Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Paulding, and in June they reached the
village of Rochester, distant from Springfield six miles. It was evening
when they arrived, and on account of the muddy roads they decided to
go no farther, but to rest there for the night. Word was sent into
Springfield, and of course the leading Democrats of the capital hurried
out to meet the distinguished visitor. Knowing the accommodations at
Rochester were not intended for or suited to the entertainment of an
ex-President, they took with them refreshments in quantity and variety,
to make up for all deficiencies. Among others, they prevailed on
Lincoln, although an ardent and pronounced Whig, to accompany them.
They introduced him to the venerable statesman of Kinderhook as a
representative lawyer, and a man whose wit was as ready as his store of
anecdotes was exhaustless. How he succeeded in entertaining the visitor
and the company, those who were present have often since testified. Van
Buren himself entertained the crowd with reminiscences of politics in
New York, going back to the days of Hamilton and Burr, and many of the
crowd in turn interested him with graphic descriptions of early life on
the western frontier. But they all yielded at last to the piquancy
and force of Lincoln's queer stories. "Of these," relates one of the
company,* "there was a constant supply, one following another in
rapid succession, each more irresistible than its predecessor. The fun
continued until after midnight, and until the distinguished traveller
insisted that his sides were sore from laughing." The yarns which
Lincoln gravely spun out, Van Buren assured the crowd, he never would
forget.
* Jos. Gillespie, MS. letter, September 6, 1866.
[Illustration: Court House, Springfield 1850-1860 312]
Lincoln and Logan's Office on Third Floor. Photographed in 1886.
After April 14, 1841, when Lincoln retired from the partnership with
Stuart, who had gone to Congress, he had been associated with Stephen T.
Logan, a man who had, as he deserved, the reputation of being the best
_nisi prius_ lawyer in the State. Judge Logan was a very orderly but
somewhat technical lawyer. He had some fondness for politics, and
made one race for Congress, but he lacked the elements of a successful
politician. He was defeated, and returned to the law. He was assiduous
in study and tireless in search of legal principles. He was industrious
and very thrifty, delighted to make and save money, and died a rich man.
Lincoln had none of Logan's qualities. He was anything but studious,
and had no money sense. He was five years younger, and yet his mind and
makeup so impressed Logan that he was invited into the partnership with
him. Logan's example had a good effect on Lincoln, and it stimulated him
to unusual endeavors. For the first time he realized the effectiveness
of order and method in work, but his old habits eventually overcame him.
He permitted his partner to do all the studying in the preparation of
cases, while he himself trusted to his general knowledge of the law and
the inspiration of the surroundings to overcome the judge or the
jury. Logan was scrupulously exact, and used extraordinary care in the
preparation of papers. His words were well chosen, and his style of
composition was stately and formal. This extended even to his letters.
This Lincoln lacked in every particular. I have before me a letter
written by Lincoln at this time to the proprietors of a wholesale store
in Louisville, for whom suit had been brought, in which, after notifying
the latter of the sale of certain real estate in satisfaction of their
judgment, he adds: "As to the real estate we cannot attend to it. We are
not real estate agents, we are lawyers. We recommend that you give the
charge of it to Mr. Isaac S. Britton, a trustworthy man, and one whom
the Lord made on purpose for such business." He gravely signs the firm
name, Logan and Lincoln, to this unlawyerlike letter and sends it on
its way. Logan never would have written such a letter. He had too much
gravity and austere dignity to permit any such looseness of expression
in letters to his clients or to anyone else.
In 1843, Logan and Lincoln both had their eyes set on the race for
Congress. Logan's claim to the honor lay in his age and the services he
had rendered the Whig party, while Lincoln, overflowing with ambition,
lay great stress on his legislative achievements, and demanded it
because he had been defeated in the nominating conventions by both
Hardin and Baker in the order named. That two such aspiring politicians,
each striving to obtain the same prize, should not dwell harmoniously
together in the same office is not strange. Indeed, we may reasonably
credit the story that they considered themselves rivals, and that
numerous acrimonious passages took place between them. I was not
surprised, therefore, one morning, to see Mr. Lincoln come rushing
up into my quarters and with more or less agitation tell me he had
determined to sever the partnership with Logan. I confess I was
surprised when he invited me to become his partner. I was young in the
practice and was painfully aware of my want of ability and experience;
but when he remarked in his earnest, honest way, "Billy, I can trust
you, if you can trust me," I felt relieved, and accepted the generous
proposal. It has always been a matter of pride with me that during our
long partnership, continuing on until it was dissolved by the bullet
of the assassin Booth, we never had any personal controversy or
disagreement. I never stood in his way for political honors or office,
and I believe we understood each other perfectly. In after years,
when he became more prominent, and our practice grew to respectable
proportions, other ambitious practitioners undertook to supplant me in
the partnership. One of the latter, more zealous than wise, charged
that I was in a certain way weakening the influence of the firm. I am
flattered to know that Lincoln turned on this last named individual
with the retort, "I know my own business, I reckon. I know Billy Herndon
better than anybody, and even if what you say of him is true I intend to
stick by him." Lincoln's effort to obtain the Congressional nomination
in 1843 brought out several unique and amusing incidents. He and Edward
D. Baker were the two aspirants from Sangamon county, but Baker's long
residence, extensive acquaintance, and general popularity were obstacles
Lincoln could not overcome; accordingly, at the last moment, Lincoln
reluctantly withdrew from the field. In a letter to his friend Speed,
dated March 24, 1843, describes the situation as follows: "We had a
meeting of the Whigs of the county here on last Monday, to appoint
delegates to a district convention; and Baker beat me, and got the
delegation instructed to go for him. The meeting, in spite of my attempt
to decline it, appointed me one of the delegates; so that in getting
Baker the nomination I shall be fixed a good deal like a fellow who is
made groomsman to a man that has cut him out, and is marrying his own
dear gal." Only a few days before this he had written a friend anent the
Congressional matter, "Now if you should hear any one say that Lincoln
don't want to go to Congress, I wish you, as a personal friend of mine,
would tell him you have reason to believe he is mistaken. The truth is
I would like to go very much. Still, circumstances may happen which may
prevent my being a candidate. If there are any who be my friends in such
an enterprise, what I now want is that they shall not throw me away just
yet."* To another friend in the adjoining county of Menard a few days
after the meeting of the Whigs in Sangamon, he explains how Baker
defeated him.
* Letter to R. S. Thomas, Virginia, Ill., Feb. 14, '43, MS.
The entire absence of any feeling of bitterness, or what the politicians
call revenge, is the most striking feature of the letter. "It is truly
gratifying," he says, "to me to learn that while the people of Sangamon
have cast me off, my old friends of Menard, who have known me longest
and best, stick to me. It would astonish if not amuse the older citizens
to learn that I (a strange, friendless, uneducated, penniless boy,
working on a flat-boat at ten dollars per month) have been put down here
as the candidate of pride, wealth, and aristocratic family distinction.
Yet so, chiefly, it was. There was, too, the strangest combination of
church influence against me. Baker is a Campbellite, and therefore as
I suppose, with few exceptions, got all that church. My wife has some
relations in the Presbyterian churches and some with the Episcopalian
churches, and therefore, wherever it would tell, I was set down as
either the one or the other, while it was everywhere contended that
no Christian ought to go for me, because I belonged to no church, was
suspected of being a deist, and had talked about fighting a duel. With
all these things Baker, of course, had nothing to do; nor do I complain
of them. As to his own church going for him I think that was right
enough; and as to the influences I have spoken of in the other, though
they were very strong, it would be grossly untrue and unjust to charge
that they acted upon them in a body, or were very near so. I only
mean that those influences levied a tax of considerable per cent, and
throughout the religious controversy." To a proposition offering to
instruct the Menard delegation for him he replies: "You say you shall
instruct your delegates for me unless I object. I certainly shall not
object. That would be too pleasant a compliment for me to tread in the
dust. And besides, if anything should happen (which, however, is not
probable) by which Baker should be thrown out of the fight, I would be
at liberty to accept the nomination if I could get it. I do, however,
feel myself bound not to hinder him in any way from getting the
nomination. I should despise myself were I to attempt it."
Baker's friends had used as an argument against Lincoln that he belonged
to a proud and aristocratic family, referring doubtless to some of the
distinguished relatives who were connected with him by marriage. The
story reaching Lincoln's ears, he laughed heartily over it one day in a
Springfield store and remarked:
"That sounds strange to me, for I do not remember of but one who ever
came to see me, and while he was in town he was accused of stealing a
jew's-harp."* In the convention which was held shortly after at the town
of Pekin neither Baker nor Lincoln obtained the coveted honor; but
John J. Hardin, of Morgan, destined to lose his life at the head of
an Illinois regiment in the Mexican war, was nominated, and in the
following August, elected by a good majority. Lincoln bore his defeat
manfully. He was no doubt greatly disappointed, but by no means soured.
He conceived the strange notion that the publicity given his so-called
"aristocratic family distinction" would cost him the friendship of his
humbler constituents--his Clary's Grove friends. He took his friend
James Matheney out into the woods with him one day and, calling up the
bitter features of the canvass, protested "vehemently and with great
emphasis" that he was anything but aristocratic and proud. "Why, Jim,"
he said, "I am now and always shall be the same Abe Lincoln I was when
you first saw me."
* Letter, A. Y. Ellis, July 16,'66, MS.
In the campaign of 1844 Lincoln filled the honorable post of
Presidential Elector, and he extended the limits of his acquaintance by
stumping the State. This was the year the gallant and magnetic Clay went
down in defeat. Lincoln, in the latter end of the canvass, crossed over
into Indiana and made several speeches. He spoke at Rockport and also at
Gentryville, where he met the Grigsbys, the Gentrys, and other friends
of his boyhood. The result of the election was a severe disappointment
to Mr. Lincoln as well as to all other Whigs. No election since the
foundation of the Government created more widespread regret than the
defeat of Clay by Polk. Men were never before so enlisted in any man's
cause, and when the great Whig chieftain went down his followers fled
from the field in utter demoralization. Some doubted the success of
popular government, while others, more hopeful still in the face of the
general disaster, vowed they would never shave their faces or cut their
hair till Henry Clay became President. As late as 18801 saw one man who
had lived up to his insane resolution. One political society organized
to aid Clay's election sent the defeated candidate an address, in which
they assured him that, after the smoke of battle had cleared away, he
would ever be remembered as one "whose name honored defeat and gave it
a glory which victory could not have brought." In Lincoln's case his
disappointment was no greater than that of any other Whig. Many persons
have yielded to the impression that Mr. Lincoln visited Clay at his home
in Lexington and felt a personal loss in his defeat, but such is not the
case. He took no more gloomy view of the situation than the rest of his
party. He had been a leading figure himself in other campaigns, and was
fully inured to the chilling blasts of defeat. They may have driven him
in, but only for a short time, for he soon evinced a willingness to test
the temper of the winds again.
[Illustration: Lincoln and Herndon Law Office 321]
No sooner had Baker been elected to Congress in August, 1844, than
Lincoln began to manifest a longing for the tempting prize to be
contended for in 1846. Hardin and Baker both having been required to
content themselves with a single term each, the struggle among Whig
aspirants narrowed down to Logan and Lincoln.*
* The Whig candidates for Congress in the Springfield
district "rotated" in the following order: Baker succeeded
Hardin in 1844, Lincoln was elected in 1846, and Logan was
nominated but defeated in 1848. Lincoln publicly declined to
contest the nomination with Baker in 1844; Hardin did the
same for Lincoln in 1846--although both seem to have acted
reluctantly; and Lincoln refused to run against Logan in
1848. Many persons insist that an agreement among these four
conspicuous Whig leaders to content themselves with one term
each actually existed. There is, however, no proof of any
bargain, although there seems to have been a tacit
understanding of the kind--maintained probably to keep other
and less tractable candidates out of the field.
The latter's claim seemed to find such favorable lodgment with the party
workers, and his popularity seemed so apparent, that Logan soon realized
his own want of strength and abandoned the field to his late law
partner. The convention which nominated Lincoln met at Petersburg May 1,
1846. Hardin, who, in violation of what was then regarded as precedent,
had been seeking the nomination, had courteously withdrawn. Logan,
ambitious to secure the honor next time for himself, with apparent
generosity presented Lincoln's name to the convention, and there being
no other candidate he was chosen unanimously. The reader need not be
told whom the Democrats placed in the field against him. It was Peter
Cartwright, the famous Methodist divine and circuit rider. An energetic
canvass of three months, followed, during which Lincoln kept his
forces well in hand. He was active and alert, speaking everywhere, and
abandoning his share of business in the law office entirely. He had
a formidable competitor in Cartwright, who not only had an extensive
following by reason of his church influence, but rallied many more
supporters around his standard by his pronounced Jacksonian attitude.
He had come into Illinois with the early immigrants from Kentucky and
Tennessee, and had at one time or another preached to almost every
Methodist congregation between Springfield and Cairo. He had extensive
family connections all over the district, was almost twenty-five years
older than Lincoln, and in every respect a dangerous antagonist. Another
thing which operated much to Lincoln's disadvantage was the report
circulated by Cartwright's friends with respect to Lincoln's religious
views. He was charged with the grave offence of infidelity, and
sentiments which he was reported to have expressed with reference to the
inspiration of the Bible were given the campaign varnish and passed from
hand to hand. His slighting allusion expressed in the address at the
Presbyterian Church before the Washington Temperance Society, February
2d, four years before, to the insincerity of the Christian people
was not forgotten. It, too, played its part; but all these opposing
circumstances were of no avail. Cartwright was personally very popular,
but it was plain the people of the Springfield district wanted no
preacher to represent them in Congress. They believed in an absolute
separation of Church and State. The election, therefore, of such a man
as Cartwright would not, to their way of thinking, tend to promote such
a result. I was enthusiastic and active in Lincoln's interest myself.
The very thought of my associate's becoming a member of Congress was a
great stimulus to my self-importance. Many other friends in and around
Springfield were equally as vigilant, and, in the language of another,
"long before the contest closed we snuffed approaching victory in the
air." Our laborious efforts met with a suitable reward. Lincoln was
elected by a majority of 1511 in the district, a larger vote than Clay's
two years before, which was only 914. In Sangamon county his majority
was 690, and exceeded that of any of his predecessors on the Whig
ticket, commencing with Stuart in 1834 and continuing on down to the
days of Yates in 1852.
Before Lincoln's departure for Washington to enter on his duties as a
member of Congress, the Mexican war had begun. The volunteers had gone
forward, and at the head of the regiments from Illinois some of the
bravest men and the best legal talent in Springfield had marched.
Hardin, Baker, Bissell, and even the dramatic Shields had enlisted. The
issues of the war and the manner of its prosecution were in every man's
mouth. Naturally, therefore, a Congressman-elect would be expected to
publish his views and define his position early in the day. Although,
in common with the Whig party, opposing the declaration of war, Lincoln,
now that hostilities had commenced, urged a vigorous prosecution. He
admonished us all to permit our Government to suffer no dishonor, and to
stand by the flag till peace came and came honorably to us. He declared
these sentiments in a speech at a public meeting in Springfield, May 29,
1847. In the following December he took his seat in Congress. He was the
only Whig from Illinois. His colleagues in the Illinois delegation were
John A. McClernand, O. B. Ficklin, William A. Richardson, Thomas J.
Turner, Robert Smith, and John Wentworth. In the Senate Douglas had made
his appearance for the first time. The Little Giant is always in sight!
Robert C. Winthrop, of Massachusetts, was chosen Speaker. John Quincy
Adams, Horace Mann, Caleb Smith, Alexander H. Stephens, Robert Toombs,
Howell Cobb, and Andrew Johnson were important members of the House.
With many of these the newly elected member from Illinois was destined
to sustain another and far different relation.
On the 5th of December, the day before the House organized, Lincoln
wrote me a letter about our fee in a law-suit, and reported the result
of the Whig caucus the night before. On the 13th, he wrote again: "Dear
William:--Your letter, advising me of the receipt of our fee in the bank
case, is just received, and I don't expect to hear another as good a
piece of news from Springfield while I am away." He then directed me
from the proceeds of this fee to pay a debt at the bank, and out of the
balance left to settle sundry dry-goods and grocery bills. The modest
tone of the last paragraph is its most striking feature. "As you are all
so anxious for me to distinguish myself," he said, "I have concluded to
do so before long." January 8 he writes: "As to speech-making, by way of
getting the hang of the House, I made a little speech two or three days
ago on a post-office question of no general interest. I find speaking
here and elsewhere about the same thing. I was about as badly scared,
and no worse, as I am when I speak in court. I expect to make one within
a week or two in which I hope to succeed well enough to wish you to see
it." Meanwhile, in recognition of the assurances I had sent him from
friends who desired to approve his course by a re-election, he says: "It
is very pleasant to me to learn from you that there are some who desire
that I should be re-elected. I most heartily thank them for the kind
partiality, and I can say, as Mr. Clay said of the annexation of Texas,
that, 'personally, I would not object' to a re-election, although I
thought at the time, and still think, it would be quite as well for me
to return to the law at the end of a single term. I made the declaration
that I would not be a candidate again, more from a wish to deal fairly
with others, to keep peace among our friends, and to keep the district
from going to the enemy, than for any cause personal to myself, so that
if it should happen that nobody else wishes to be elected I could not
refuse the people the right of sending me again. But to enter myself as
a competitor of others, or to authorize any one so to enter me, is what
my word and honor forbid."
His announcement of a willingness to accept a re-election if tendered
him by the people was altogether unnecessary, for within a few days
after this letter was written his constituents began to manifest
symptoms of grave disapproval of his course on the Mexican war question.
His position on this subject was evidenced by certain resolutions
offered by him in the House three weeks before. These latter were called
the "Spot Resolutions," and they and the speech which followed on the
12th of January in support of them not only sealed Lincoln's doom as a
Congressman, but in my opinion, lost the district to the Whigs in 1848,
when Judge Logan had succeeded at last in obtaining the nomination.
Although differing with the President as to the justice or even
propriety of a war with Mexico, Lincoln was not unwilling to vote, and
with the majority of his party did vote, the supplies necessary to carry
it on. He did this, however, with great reluctance, protesting all the
while that "the war was unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by
the President." The "Spot Resolutions," which served as a text for his
speech on the 12th of January, and which caused such unwonted annoyance
in the ranks of his constituents, were a series following a preamble
loaded with quotations from the President's messages. These resolutions
requested the President to inform the House: "_First_, Whether the
_spot_ on which the blood of our citizens was shed as in his messages
declared was or was not within the territory of Spain, at least after
the treaty of 1819, until the Mexican revolution. _Second_, Whether that
spot is or is not within the territory which was wrested from Spain by
the revolutionary government of Mexico. _Third_, Whether that spot is or
is not within a settlement of people, which settlement has existed ever
since long before the Texas revolution, and until its inhabitants fled
before the approach of the United States army." There were eight of
these interrogatories, but it is only necessary to reproduce the three
which foreshadow the position Lincoln was then intending to assume.
On the 12th of January, as before stated, he followed them up with a
carefully prepared and well-arranged speech, in which he made a severe
arraignment of President Polk and justified the pertinence and propriety
of the inquiries he had a few days before addressed to him. The speech
is too long for insertion here. It was constructed much after the manner
of a legal argument. Reviewing the evidence furnished by the President
in his various messages, he undertook to "smoke him out" with this:
"Let the President answer the interrogatories I proposed, as before
mentioned, or other similar ones. Let him answer fully, fairly,
candidly. Let him answer with facts, not with arguments. Let him
remember, he sits where Washington sat; and so remembering, let him
answer as Washington would answer. As a nation should not, and the
Almighty will not, be evaded, so let him attempt no evasion, no
equivocation. And if, so answering, he can show the soil was ours where
the first blood of the war was shed; that it was not within an
inhabited country, or if within such; that the inhabitants had submitted
themselves to the civil authority of Texas or of the United States; and
that the same is true of the site of Fort Brown, then I am with him for
his justification... But if he cannot or will not do this--if, on any
pretence, or no pretence, he shall refuse or omit it--then I shall be
fully convinced of what I more than suspect already--that he is deeply
conscious of being in the wrong; that he feels the blood of this war,
like the blood of Abel, is crying to Heaven against him; that he ordered
General Taylor into the midst of a peaceful Mexican settlement purposely
to bring on a war; that, originally having some strong motive--which
I will not now stop to give my opinion concerning--to involve the
countries in a war, and trusting to escape scrutiny by fixing the public
gaze upon the exceeding brightness of military glory,--that attractive
rainbow that rises in showers of blood, that serpent's eye that
charms to destroy,--he plunged into it, and has swept on and on, till
disappointed in his calculation of the ease with which Mexico might be
subdued, he now finds himself he knows not where. He is a bewildered,
confounded, and miserably perplexed man. God grant that he may be able
to show that there is not something about his conscience more painful
than all his mental perplexity." This speech, however clear may have
been its reasoning, however rich in illustration, in restrained
and burning earnestness, yet was unsuccessful in "smoking out" the
President. He remained within the official seclusion his position gave
him, and declined to answer. In fact it is doubtless true that Lincoln
anticipated no response, but simply took that means of defining clearly
his own position.
On the 19th inst., having occasion to write me with reference to a note
with which one of our clients, one Louis Candler, had been "annoying"
him, not the least of which annoyance," he complains, "is his cursed
unreadable and ungodly handwriting," he adds a line, in which with
noticeable modesty he informs me: "I have made a speech, a copy of which
I send you by mail." He doubtless felt he was taking rather advanced and
perhaps questionable ground. And so he was, for very soon after, murmurs
of dissatisfaction began to run through the Whig ranks. I did not,
as some of Lincoln's biographers would have their readers believe,
inaugurate this feeling of dissatisfaction. On the contrary, as the law
partner of the Congress-man, and as his ardent admirer, I discouraged
the defection all I could. Still, when I listened to the comments of his
friends everywhere after the delivery of his speech, I felt that he had
made a mistake. I therefore wrote him to that effect, at the same time
giving him my own views, which I knew were in full accord with the
views of his Whig constituents. My argument in substance was: That the
President of the United States is Commander-in-Chief of the Army
and Navy; that as such commander it was his duty, in the absence
of Congress, if the country was about to be invaded and armies were
organized in Mexico for that purpose, to go--if necessary--into the very
heart of Mexico and prevent the invasion. I argued further that it would
be a crime in the Executive to let the country be invaded in the least
degree. The action of the President was a necessity, and under a similar
necessity years afterward Mr. Lincoln himself emancipated the slaves,
although he had no special power under the Constitution to do so. In
later days, in what is called the Hodges letter, concerning the freedom
of the slaves, he used this language: "I felt that measures otherwise
unconstitutional might become lawful by becoming indispensable." Briefly
stated, that was the strain of my argument. My judgment was formed on
the law of nations and of war. If the facts were as I believed them,
and my premises correct, then I assumed that the President's acts became
lawful by becoming indispensable.
February 1 he wrote me, "Dear William: You fear that you and I disagree
about the war. I regret this, not because of any fear we shall
remain disagreed after you have read this letter, but because if you
misunderstand I fear other good friends may also."
Speaking of his vote in favor of the amendment to the supply bill
proposed by George Ashmun, of Massachusetts, he continues:
"That vote affirms that the war was unnecessarily and unconstitutionally
commenced by the President; and I will stake my life that if you had
been in my place you would have voted just as I did. Would you have
voted what you felt and knew to be a lie? I know you would not. Would
you have gone out of the House,--skulked the vote? I expect not. If you
had skulked one vote you would have had to skulk many more before the
close of the session. Richardson's resolutions, introduced before I made
any move or gave any vote upon the subject, make the direct question of
the justice of the war; so that no man can be silent if he would. You
are compelled to speak; and your only alternative is to tell the truth
or tell a lie. I cannot doubt which you would do... I do not mean this
letter for the public, but for you. Before it reaches you you will have
seen and read my pamphlet speech and perhaps have been scared anew
by it. After you get over your scare read it over again, sentence by
sentence, and tell me honestly what you think of it. I condensed all I
could for fear of being cut off by the hour rule; and when I got through
I had spoken but forty-five minutes.
"Yours forever,
"A. Lincoln."
I digress from the Mexican war subject long enough to insert, because
in the order of time it belongs here, a characteristic letter which he
wrote me regarding a man who was destined at a later day to play a far
different role in the national drama. Here it is:
"Washington, Feb. 2, 1848.
"Dear William:
"I just take up my pen to say that Mr. Stephens, of Georgia, a little,
slim, pale-faced, consumptive man, with a voice like Logan's, has just
concluded the very best speech of an hour's length I ever heard. My old,
withered, dry eyes are full of tears yet. If he writes it out anything
like he delivered it our people shall see a good many copies of it.
"Yours truly,
"A. Lincoln."
To Wm. H. Herndon, Esq.
February 15 he wrote me again in criticism of the President's invasion
of foreign soil. He still believed the Executive had exceeded the
limit of his authority. "The provision of the Constitution giving
the war-making power to Congress," he insists, "was dictated, as I
understand it, by the following reasons: kings had always been involving
and impoverishing their people in wars, pretending generally, if not
always, that the good of the people was the object. This, our convention
understood to be the most oppressive of all kingly oppressions; and they
resolved to so frame the Constitution that no one man should hold the
power of bringing this oppression upon us. But your view destroys the
whole matter, and places our President where kings have always stood."
In June the Whigs met in national convention at Philadelphia to nominate
a candidate for President. Lincoln attended as a delegate. He advocated
the nomination of Taylor because of his belief that he could be elected,
and was correspondingly averse to Clay because of the latter's signal
defeat in 1844. In a letter from Washington a few days after the
convention he predicts the election of "Old Rough." He says: "In
my opinion we shall have a most overwhelming glorious triumph.
One unmistakable sign is that all the odds and ends are with
us--Barn-burners, Native Americans, Tyler-men, disappointed
office-seeking Locofocos, and the Lord knows what not.... Taylor's
nomination takes the Locos on the blind side. It turns the war thunder
against them. The war is now to them the gallows of Haman, which they
built for us and on which they are doomed to be hanged themselves."
Meanwhile, in spite of the hopeful view Lincoln seemed to take of the
prospect, things in his own district were in exceedingly bad repair. I
could not refrain from apprising him of the extensive defections from
the party ranks, and the injury his course was doing him. My object in
thus writing to him was not to threaten him. Lincoln was not a man
who could be successfully threatened; one had to approach him from a
different direction. I warned him of public disappointment over his
course, and I earnestly desired to prevent him from committing what I
believed to be political suicide. June 22d he answered a letter I had
written him on the 15th. He had just returned from a Whig caucus held
in relation to the coming Presidential election. "The whole field of
the nation was scanned; all is high hope and confidence," he said,
exultingly. "Illinois is expected to better her condition in this race.
Under these circumstances judge how heartrending it was to come to my
room and find and read your discouraging letter of the 15th." But still
he does not despair. "Now, as to the young men," he says, "you must
not wait to be brought forward by the older men. For instance, do you
suppose that I should ever have got into notice if I had waited to be
hunted up and pushed forward by older men? You young men get together
and form a Rough and Ready club, and have regular meetings and speeches.
Take in everybody that you can get.... As you go along gather up all the
shrewd, wild boys about town, whether just of age or a little under age.
Let every one play the part he can play best--some speak, some sing,
and all halloo. Your meetings will be of evenings; the older men and the
women will go to hear you, so that it will not only contribute to the
election of 'Old Zack,' but will be an interesting pastime and improving
to the faculties of all engaged." He was evidently endeavoring through
me to rouse up all the enthusiasm among the youth of Springfield
possible under the circumstances. But I was disposed to take a
dispirited view of the situation, and therefore was not easily warmed
up. I felt at this time, somewhat in advance of its occurrence, the
death throes of the Whig party. I did not conceal my suspicions, and one
of the Springfield papers gave my sentiments liberal quotation in its
columns. I felt gloomy over the prospect, and cut out these newspaper
slips and sent them to Lincoln. Accompanying these I wrote him a letter
equally melancholy in tone, in which among other things I reflected
severely on the stubbornness and bad judgment of the old fossils in the
party, who were constantly holding the young men back. This brought from
him a letter, July 10, 1848, which is so clearly Lincolnian and so full
of plain philosophy, that I copy it in full. Not the least singular of
all is his allusion to himself as an old man, although he had scarcely
passed his thirty-ninth year.
"Washington, July 10, 1848.
"Dear William:
"Your letter covering the newspaper slips was received last night. The
subject of that letter is exceedingly painful to me, and I cannot but
think there is some mistake in your impression of the motives of the
old men. I suppose I am now one of the old men; and I declare on my
veracity, which I think is good with you, that nothing could afford me
more satisfaction than to learn that you and others of my young friends
at home were doing battle in the contest and endearing themselves to the
people and taking a stand far above any I have ever been able to reach
in their admiration. I cannot conceive that other men feel differently.
Of course I cannot demonstrate what I say; but I was young once, and I
am sure I was never ungenerously thrust back. I hardly know what to say.
The way for a young man to rise is to improve himself every way he can,
never suspecting that anybody wishes to hinder him. Allow me to assure
you that suspicion and jealousy never did help any man in any situation.
There may sometimes be ungenerous attempts to keep a young man down; and
they will succeed, too, if he allows his mind to be diverted from its
true channel to brood over the attempted injury. Cast about and see if
this feeling has not injured every person you have ever known to fall
into it.
"Now, in what I have said I am sure you will suspect nothing but
sincere friendship. I would save you from a fatal error. You have been a
laborious, studious young man. You are far better informed on almost all
subjects than I ever have been. You cannot fail in any laudable object
unless you allow your mind to be improperly directed. I have some the
advantage of you in the world's experience merely by being older; and it
is this that induces me to advise.
"Your friend, as ever,
"A. Lincoln."
[Illustration: Portraits 337]
Before the close of the Congressional session he made two more speeches.
One of these, which he hastened to send home in pamphlet form, and which
he supposes "nobody will read," was devoted to the familiar subject of
internal improvements, and deserves only passing mention. The other,
delivered on the 27th of July, was in its way a masterpiece; and it is
no stretch of the truth to say that while intended simply as a campaign
document and devoid of any effort at classic oratory, it was, perhaps,
one of the best speeches of the session. It is too extended for
insertion here without abridgment; but one who reads it will lay it down
convinced that Lincoln's ascendency for a quarter of a century among the
political spirits in Illinois was by no means an accident; neither will
the reader wonder that Douglas, with all his forensic ability, averted,
as long as he could, a contest with a man whose plain, analytical
reasoning was not less potent than his mingled drollery and caricature
were effective. The speech in the main is an arraignment of General
Cass, the Democratic candidate for President, who had already achieved
great renown in the political world, principally on account of his
career as a soldier in the war of 1812, and is a triumphant vindication
of his Whig opponent, General Taylor, who seemed to have had a
less extensive knowledge of civil than of military affairs, and
was discreetly silent about both. Lincoln caricatured the military
pretensions of the Democratic candidate in picturesque style. This
latter section of the speech has heretofore been omitted by most of
Mr. Lincoln's biographers because of its glaring inappropriateness as a
Congressional effort. I have always failed to see wherein its comparison
with scores of others delivered in the halls of Congress since that time
could in any way detract from the fame of Mr. Lincoln, and I therefore
reproduce it here:
"But the gentleman from Georgia [Mr. Iverson] further says, we have
deserted all our principles, and taken shelter under General Taylor's
military coattail; and he seems to think this is exceedingly degrading.
Well, as his faith is, so be it unto him. But can he remember no
other military coat-tail, under which a certain other party have been
sheltering for near a quarter of a century? Has he no acquaintance with
the ample military coat-tail of General Jackson? Does he not know that
his own party have run the last five Presidential races under that
coat-tail? and that they are now running the sixth under the same cover?
Yes, sir, that coat-tail was used not only for General Jackson himself,
but has been clung to with the grip of death by every Democratic
candidate since. You have never ventured, and dare not now venture from
under it. Your campaign papers have constantly been 'Old Hickory's,'
with rude likenesses of the old general upon them; hickory poles and
hickory brooms your never-ending emblems. Mr. Polk himself was 'Young
Hickory,' 'Little Hickory,' or something so; and even now your campaign
paper here is proclaiming that Cass and Butler are of the 'Hickory
stripe.' No, sir, you dare not give it up. Like a horde of hungry ticks,
you have stuck to the tail of the Hermitage lion to the end of his life;
and you are still sticking to it, and drawing a loathsome sustenance
from it, after he is dead. A fellow once advertised that he had made a
discovery by which he could make a new man out of an old one and have
enough of the stuff left to make a little yellow dog. Just such a
discovery has General Jackson's popularity been to you. You not only
twice made Presidents of him out of it, but you have enough of the stuff
left to make Presidents of several comparatively small men since; and it
is your chief reliance now to make still another.
"Mr. Speaker, old horses and military coat-tails, or tails of any sort,
are not figures of speech such as I would be the first to introduce into
discussion here; but as the gentleman from Georgia has thought fit to
introduce them, he and you are welcome to all you have made or can make
by them.
"If you have any more old horses, trot them out; any more tails, just
cock them and come at us. I repeat, I would not introduce this mode of
discussion here; but I wish gentlemen on the other side to understand
that the use of degrading figures is a game at which they may find
themselves unable to take all the winnings. [A voice 'No, we give it
up.'] Aye! you give it up, and well you may; but for a very different
reason from that which you would have us understand. The point--the
power to hurt--of all figures consists in the truthfulness of their
application; and, understanding this, you may well give it up. They are
weapons which hit you, but miss us.
"But in my hurry I was very near closing on this subject of military
tails before I was done with it. There is one entire article of the sort
I have not discussed yet; I mean the military tail you Democrats are now
engaged in dove-tailing on to the great Michigander. Yes, sir, all his
biographers (and they are legion) have him in hand, tying him to a
military tail, like so many mischievous boys tying a dog to a bladder of
beans. True, the material is very limited, but they are at it might and
main. He invaded Canada without resistance, and he outvaded it without
pursuit. As he did both under orders, I suppose there was to him neither
credit nor discredit; but they are made to constitute a large part of
the tail. He was not at Hull's surrender, but he was close by; he
was volunteer aid to General Harrison on the day of the battle of the
Thames; and as you said in 1840 Harrison was picking whortleberries two
miles off while the battle was fought, I suppose it is a just conclusion
with you to say Cass was aiding Harrison to pick whortleberries. This is
about all, except the mooted question of the broken sword. Some authors
say he broke it: some say he threw it away; and some others, who ought
to know, say nothing about it. Perhaps it would be a fair historical
compromise to say if he did not break it, he did not do anything else
with it.
"By the way, Mr. Speaker, did you know I am a military hero? Yes,
sir, in the days of the Black Hawk war, I fought, bled, and came away.
Speaking of General Cass's career, reminds me of my own. I was not at
Stillman's defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass was to Hull's
surrender; and, like him, I saw the place very soon afterward. It is
quite certain I did not break my sword, for I had none to break, but I
bent my musket pretty badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword,
the idea is, he broke it in desperation; I bent the musket by accident.
If General Cass went in advance of me picking whortleberries, I guess
I surpassed him in charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live
fighting Indians, it was more than I did, but I had a good many bloody
struggles with the mosquitos; and, although I never fainted from loss of
blood, I can truly say I was often very hungry. Mr. Speaker, if ever
I should conclude to doff whatever our Democratic friends may suppose
there is of black-cockade Federalism about me, and, thereupon they shall
take me up as their candidate for the Presidency, I protest that they
shall not make fun of me as they have of General Cass by attempting to
write me into a military hero."
After the adjournment of Congress on the 14th of August, Lincoln went
through New York and some of the New England States making a number
of speeches for Taylor, none of which, owing to the limited facilities
attending newspaper reporting in that day, have been preserved. He
returned to Illinois before the close of the canvass and continued
his efforts on the stump till the election. At the second session of
Congress, which began in December, he was less conspicuous than before.
The few weeks spent with his constituents had perhaps taught him that
in order to succeed as a Congressman it is not always the most politic
thing to tell the truth because it is the truth, or do right because
it is right. With the opening of Congress, by virtue of the election of
Taylor, the Whigs obtained the ascendency in the control of governmental
machinery. He attended to the duties of the Congressional office
diligently and with becoming modesty. He answered the letters of his
constituents, sent them their public documents, and looked after their
pension claims. His only public act of any moment was a bill looking
to the emancipation of the slaves in the District of Columbia. He
interested Joshua R. Giddings and others of equally as pronounced
anti-slavery views in the subject, but his bill eventually found a
lodgment on "the table," where it was carefully but promptly laid by a
vote of the House.
Meanwhile, being chargeable with the distribution of official patronage,
he began to flounder about in explanation of his action in a sea of
seemingly endless perplexities. His recommendation of the appointment of
T. R. King to be Register or Receiver of the Land Office had produced
no little discord among the other aspirants for the place. He wrote to
a friend who endorsed and urged the appointment, "either to admit it is
wrong, or come forward and sustain him." He then transmits to this same
friend a scrap of paper--probably a few lines approving the selection
of King--which is to be copied in the friend's own handwriting. "Get
everybody," he insists, "(not three or four, but three or four hundred)
to sign it, and then send to me. Also have six, eight, or ten of our
best known Whig friends to write me additional letters, stating the
truth in this matter as they understood it. Don't neglect or delay in
the matter. I understand," he continues, "information of an indictment
having been found against him three years ago for gaming or keeping a
gaming house has been sent to the Department." He then closes with the
comforting assurance: "I shall try to take care of it at the Department
till your action can be had and forwarded on." And still people
insist that Mr. Lincoln was such a guileless man and so free from the
politician's sagacity!
In June I wrote him regarding the case of one Walter Davis, who was
soured and disappointed because Lincoln had overlooked him in his
recommendation for the Springfield post-office. "There must be some
mistake," he responds on the 5th, "about Walter Davis saying I promised
him the post-office. I did not so promise him. I did tell him that if
the distribution of the offices should fall into my hands he should have
something; and if I shall be convinced he has said any more than this I
shall be disappointed. I said this much to him because, as I understand,
he is of good character, is one of the young men, is of the mechanics,
is always faithful and never troublesome, a Whig, and is poor, with the
support of a widow-mother thrown almost exclusively on him by the death
of his brother. If these are wrong reasons then I have been wrong; but
I have certainly not been selfish in it, because in my greatest need of
friends he was against me and for Baker."
Judge Logan's defeat in 1848 left Lincoln still in a measure in charge
of the patronage in his district. After his term in Congress expired the
"wriggle and struggle" for office continued; and he was often appealed
to for his influence in obtaining, as he termed it, "a way to live
without work." Occasionally, when hard pressed, he retorted with bitter
sarcasm. I append a letter written in this vein to a gentleman still
living in central Illinois, who, I suppose, would prefer that his name
should be withheld:
"Springfield, Dec. 15, 1849.
"------ Esq.
"Dear Sir:
"On my return from Kentucky I found your letter of the 7th of November,
and have delayed answering it till now for the reason I now briefly
state. From the beginning of our acquaintance I had felt the greatest
kindness for you and had supposed it was reciprocated on your part. Last
summer, under circumstances which I mentioned to you, I was painfully
constrained to withhold a recommendation which you desired, and shortly
afterwards I learned, in such a way as to believe it, that you were
indulging in open abuse of me. Of course my feelings were wounded.
On receiving your last letter the question occurred whether you were
attempting to use me at the same time you would injure me, or whether
you might not have been misrepresented to me. If the former, I ought
not to answer you; if the latter, I ought, and so I have remained in
suspense. I now enclose you the letter, which you may use if you see
fit.
"Yours, etc.
"A. Lincoln."
No doubt the man, when Lincoln declined at first to recommend him, did
resort to more or less abuse. That would have been natural, especially
with an unsuccessful and disappointed office-seeker. I am inclined to
the opinion, and a careful reading of the letter will warrant it, that
Lincoln believed him guilty. If the recommendation which Lincoln, after
so much reluctance, gave was ever used to further the applicant's cause
I do not know it.
With the close of Lincoln's congressional career he drops out of sight
as a political factor, and for the next few years we take him up in
another capacity. He did not solicit or contend for a renomination to
Congress, and such was the unfortunate result of his position on public
questions that it is doubtful if he could have succeeded had he done so.