LIKE most other public men in America, Mr. Lincoln made his bread by
the practice of his profession, and the better part of his fame by
the achievements of the politician. He was a lawyer of some note,
and, compared with the crowds who annually take upon themselves the
responsible office of advocate and attorney, he might very justly have
been called a good one; for he regarded his office as a trust, and
selected and tried his cases, not with a view to personal gain, but to
the administration of justice between suitors. And here, midway in
his political career, it is well enough to pause, and take a leisurely
survey of him in his other character of country lawyer, from the time
he entered the bar at Springfield until he was translated from it to the
Presidential chair. It is unnecessary to remind the reader (for by this
time it must be obvious enough) that the aim of the writer is merely to
present facts and contemporaneous opinions, with as little comment as
possible.
In the courts and at the bar-meetings immediately succeeding his death,
his professional brethren poured out in volumes their testimony to his
worth and abilities as a lawyer. But, in estimating the value of this
testimony, it is fair to consider the state of the public mind at the
time it was given,--the recent triumph of the Federal arms under his
direction; the late overwhelming indorsement of his administration; the
unparalleled devotion of the people to his person as exhibited at the
polls; the fresh and bitter memories of the hideous tragedy that took
him off; the furious and deadly passions it inspired in the one party,
and the awe, indignation, and terror it inspired in the other. It was
no time for nice and critical examinations, either of his mental or his
moral character; and it might have been attended with personal danger to
attempt them. For days and nights together it was considered treason to
be seen in public with a smile on the face. Men who spoke evil of the
fallen chief, or even ventured a doubt concerning the ineffable purity
and saintliness of his life, were pursued by mobs, were beaten to death
with paving-stones, or strung up by the neck to lampposts. If there was
any rivalry, it was as to who should be foremost and fiercest among his
avengers, who should canonize him in the most solemn words, who should
compare him to the most sacred character in all history, sacred and
profane. He was prophet, priest, and king; he was Washington; he was
Moses; and there were not wanting even those who likened him to the God
and Redeemer of all the earth. These latter thought they discovered in
his lowly origin, his kindly nature, his benevolent precepts, and
the homely anecdotes in which he taught the people, strong points of
resemblance between him and the divine Son of Mary. Even at this day,
men are not wanting in prominent positions in life, who knew Mr. Lincoln
well, and who do not hesitate to make such a comparison.
[Illustration: Judge David Davis 349]
For many years, Judge David Davis was the near friend and the intimate
associate of Mr. Lincoln. He presided in the court where Lincoln was
oftenest heard: year in and year out they travelled together from
town to town, from county to county, riding frequently in the same
conveyance, and lodging in the same room. Although a judge on the bench,
Mr. Davis watched the political course of his friend with affectionate
solicitude, and more than once interposed most effectually to advance
his fortunes. When Mr. Lincoln ascended to the Presidency, it was well
understood that no man enjoyed more confidential relations with him than
Judge Davis. At the first opportunity, he commissioned Judge Davis an
Associate Justice of that august tribunal, the Supreme Court of the
United States; and, upon his death, Judge Davis administered upon his
estate at the request of his family. Add to this the fact, that, among
American jurists, Judge Davis's fame is, if not peerless, at least not
excelled by that of any man whose reputation rests upon his labors as
they appear in the books of Reports, and we may very fairly consider
him a competent judge of the professional character of Mr. Lincoln. At
Indianapolis, Judge Davis spoke of him as follows:--
"I enjoyed for over twenty years the personal friendship of Mr. Lincoln.
We were admitted to the bar about the same time, and travelled for many
years what is known in Illinois as the Eighth Judicial Circuit. In 1848,
when I first went on the bench, the circuit embraced fourteen counties,
and Mr. Lincoln went with the court to every county. Railroads were
not then in use, and our mode of travel was either on horseback or in
buggies.
"This simple life he loved, preferring it to the practice of the law
in a city, where, although the remuneration would be greater, the
opportunity would be less for mixing with the great body of the people,
who loved him, and whom he loved. Mr. Lincoln was transferred from the
bar of that circuit to the office of President of the United States,
having been without official position since he left Congress in 1849. In
all the elements that constitute the great lawyer, he had few equals.
He was great both at _nisi prius_ and before an appellate tribunal. He
seized the strong points of a cause, and presented them with clearness
and great compactness. His mind was logical and direct, and he did not
indulge in extraneous discussion. Generalities and platitudes had no
charms for him. An unfailing vein of humor never deserted him; and he
was always able to chain the attention of court and jury, when the cause
was the most uninteresting, by the appropriateness of his anecdotes.
"His power of comparison was large, and he rarely failed in a legal
discussion to use that mode of reasoning. The framework of his mental
and moral being was honesty, and a wrong cause was poorly defended by
him. The ability which some eminent lawyers possess, of explaining away
the bad points of a cause by ingenious sophistry, was denied him. In
order to bring into full activity his great powers, it was necessary
that he should be convinced of the right and justice of the matter which
he advocated. When so convinced, whether the cause was great or small,
he was usually successful. He read law-books but little, except when
the cause in hand made it necessary; yet he was usually self-reliant,
depending on his own resources, and rarely consulting his brother
lawyers, either on the management of his case or on the legal questions
involved.
"Mr. Lincoln was the fairest and most accommodating of practitioners,
granting all favors which he could do consistently with his duty to
his client, and rarely availing himself of an unwary oversight of his
adversary.
"He hated wrong and oppression everywhere; and many a man whose
fraudulent conduct was undergoing review in a court of justice has
writhed under his terrific indignation and rebukes. He was the most
simple and unostentatious of men in his habits, having few wants, and
those easily supplied.
"To his honor be it said, that he never took from a client, even when
the cause was gained, more than he thought the service was worth and the
client could reasonably afford to pay. The people where he practised law
were not rich, and his charges were always small.
"When he was elected President, I question whether there was a lawyer
in the circuit, who had been at the bar as long a time, whose means were
not larger. It did not seem to be one of the purposes of his life to
accumulate a fortune. In fact, outside of his profession, he had no
knowledge of the way to make money, and he never even attempted it.
"Mr. Lincoln was loved by his brethren of the bar; and no body of men
will grieve more at his death, or pay more sincere tributes to his
memory. His presence on the circuit was watched for with interest, and
never failed to produce joy and hilarity. When casually absent, the
spirits of both bar and people were depressed. He was not fond of
controversy, and would compromise a lawsuit whenever practicable."
More or other evidence than this may, perhaps, be superfluous. Such an
eulogium, from such a source, is more than sufficient to determine
the place Mr. Lincoln is entitled to occupy in the history, or, more
properly speaking, the traditions, of the Western bar. If Sir Matthew
Hale had spoken thus of any lawyer of his day, he would have insured
to the subject of his praise a place in the estimation of men only less
conspicuous and honorable than that of the great judge himself. At the
risk, however, of unnecessary accumulation, we venture to record an
extract from Judge Drummond's address at Chicago:--
"With a probity of character known to all, with an intuitive insight
into the human heart, with a clearness of statement which was in itself
an argument, with uncommon power and felicity of illustration,--often,
it is true, of a plain and homely kind,--and with that sincerity and
earnestness of manner which carried conviction, he was, perhaps, one
of the most successful jury lawyers we ever had in the State. He always
tried a case fairly and honestly. He never intentionally misrepresented
the evidence of a witness, nor the argument of an opponent. He met both
squarely, and, if he could not explain the one or answer the other,
substantially admitted it. He never misstated the law, according to
his own intelligent view of it. Such was the transparent candor and
integrity of his nature, that he could not well, or strongly, argue a
side or a cause that he thought wrong. Of course, he felt it his duty to
say what could be said, and to leave the decision to others; but there
could be seen in such cases the inward struggles of his own mind. In
trying a case, he might occasionally dwell too long upon, or give too
much importance to, an inconsiderable point; but this was the exception,
and generally he went straight to the citadel of the cause or question,
and struck home there, knowing, if that were won, the outworks would
necessarily fall. He could hardly be called very learned in his
profession, and yet he rarely tried a cause without fully understanding
the law applicable to it; and I have no hesitation in saying he was one
of the ablest lawyers I have ever known. If he was forcible before
a jury, he was equally so with the court. He detected, with unerring
sagacity, the weak points of an opponent's argument, and pressed his own
views with overwhelming strength. His efforts were quite unequal; and it
might happen that he would not, on some occasions, strike one as at all
remarkable. But let him be thoroughly roused,--let him feel that he was
right, and that some principle was involved in his cause,--and he would
come out with an earnestness of conviction, a power of argument, and a
wealth of illustration, that I have never seen surpassed."
Mr. Lincoln's partnership with John T. Stuart began on the 27th of
April, 1837, and continued until the 14th of April, 1841, when it was
dissolved, in consequence of Stuart's election to Congress. In that same
year (1841), Mr. Lincoln united in practice with Stephen T. Logan, late
presiding judge of the district, and they remained together until 1845.
Soon afterwards he formed a copartnership with William H. Herndon, his
friend, familiar, and, we may almost say, biographer,--a connection
which terminated only when the senior partner took an affectionate leave
of the old circuit, the old office, home, friends, and all familiar
things, to return no more until he came a blackened corpse. "He once
told me of you," says Mr. Whitney in one of his letters to Mr. Herndon,
"that he had taken you in as partner, supposing that you had a system,
and would keep things in order, but that he found that you had no more
system than he had, but that you were a fine lawyer; so that he was
doubly disappointed." 1
1 The following letter exhibits the character of his early
practice, and gives us a glimpse into his social and
political life;--
Springfield, Dec. 23,1839.
Dear--,--Dr. Henry will write you all the political news. I
write this about some little matters of business. You
recollect you told me you had drawn the Chicago Masack
money, and sent it to the claimants. A d----d hawk-billed
Yankee is here besetting me at every turn I take, saying
that Robert Kenzie never received the eighty dollars to
which he was entitled.
Can you tell any thing about the matter? Again, old Mr.
Wright, who lives up South Fork somewhere, is teasing me
continually about some deeds, which he says he left with
you, but which I can find nothing of. Can you tell where
they are? The Legislature is in session, and has suffered
the bank to forfeit its charter without benefit of clergy.
There seems but little disposition to resuscitate it.
Whenever a letter comes from you to Mrs.------, I carry it
to her, and then I see Betty:
she is a tolerable nice fellow now. Maybe I will write again
when I get more time.
Your friend as ever,
A. Lincoln.
P. S.--The Democratic giant is here, but he is not now worth
talking about.
A. L.
As already stated by Judge Davis, Mr. Lincoln was not "a great reader of
law-books;" but what he knew he knew well, and within those limits
was self-reliant and even intrepid. He was what is sometimes called "a
case-lawyer,"--a man who reasoned almost entirely to the court and jury
from analagous causes previously decided and reported in the books, and
not from the elementary principles of the law, or the great
underlying reasons for its existence. In consultation he was cautious,
conscientious, and painstaking, and was seldom prepared to advise,
except after careful and tedious examination of the authorities. He did
not consider himself bound to take every case that was brought to him,
nor to press all the points in favor of a client who in the main was
right and entitled to recover. He is known to have been many times on
the verge of quarrelling with old and valued friends, because he could
not see the justice of their claims, and, therefore, could not be
induced to act as their counsel. Henry McHenry, one of his New-Salem
associates, brought him a case involving the title to a piece of land.
McHenry had placed a family in a cabin which Mr. Lincoln believed to be
situated on the other side of the adversary's line. He told McHenry that
he must move the family out. "McHenry said he should not do it. 'Well,'
said Mr. Lincoln, 'if you do not, I shall not attend to the suit.'
McHenry said he did not care a d--n whether he did or not; that he
(Lincoln) was not all the lawyer there was in town. Lincoln studied
a while, and asked about the location of the cabin,... and then said,
'McHenry, you are right: I will attend to the suit,' and did attend to
it, and gained it; and that was all the harsh words that passed."
"A citizen of Springfield," says Mr. Herndon, "who visited our office
on business about a year before Mr. Lincoln's nomination, relates the
following:--
"'Mr. Lincoln was seated at his table, listening very attentively to a
man who was talking earnestly in a low tone. After the would-be client
had stated the facts of his case, Mr. Lincoln replied, "Yes, there is
no reasonable doubt but that I can gain your case for you. I can set a
whole neighborhood at loggerheads; I can distress a widowed mother
and her six fatherless children, and thereby get for you six hundred
dollars, which rightfully belongs, it appears to me, as much to the
woman and her children as it does to you. You must remember that some
things that are legally right are not morally right. I shall not take
your case, but will give you a little advice, for which I will charge
you nothing. You seem to be a sprightly, energetic man. I would advise
you to try your hand at making six hundred dollars in some other way."'"
In the summer of 1841, Mr. Lincoln was engaged in a curious case. The
circumstances impressed him very deeply with the insufficiency and
danger of "circumstantial evidence;" so much so, that he not only wrote
the following account of it to Speed, but another more extended one,
which was printed in a newspaper published at Quincy, 111. His mind was
full of it: he could think of nothing else. It is apparent that in his
letter to Speed he made no pause to choose his words: there is nothing
constrained, and nothing studied or deliberate about it; but its
simplicity, perspicuity, and artless grace make it a model of English
composition. What Goldsmith once said of Locke may better be said of
this letter: "He never says more nor less than he ought, and never makes
use of a word that he could have changed for a better."
Springfield, June 19,1841.
Dear Speed,--We have had the highest state of excitement here for a
week past that our community has ever witnessed; and although the public
feeling is somewhat allayed, the curious affair which aroused it is very
far from being over yet, cleared of mystery. It would take a quire of
paper to give you any thing like a full account of it, and I therefore
only propose a brief outline. The chief personages in the drama are
Archibald Fisher, supposed to be murdered, and Archibald Trailor, Henry
Trailor, and William Trailor, supposed to have murdered him. The three
Trailors are brothers: the first, Arch., as you know, lives in town;
the second, Henry, in Clary's Grove; and the third, William, in Warren
County; and Fisher, the supposed murdered, being without a family, had
made his home with William. On Saturday evening, being the 29th of May,
Fisher and William came to Henry's in a one-horse dearborn, and there
staid over Sunday; and on Monday all three came to Springfield (Henry on
horseback), and joined Archibald at Myers's, the Dutch carpenter.
That evening at supper Fisher was missing, and so next morning some
ineffectual search was made for him; and on Tuesday, at 1 o'clock, p.m.,
William and Henry started home without him. In a day or two Henry and
one or two of his Clary-Grove neighbors came back for him again, and
advertised his disappearance in the papers. The knowledge of the matter
thus far had not been general, and here it dropped entirely, till about
the 10th inst., when Keys received a letter from the postmaster in
Warren County, that William had arrived at home, and was telling a very
mysterious and improbable story about the disappearance of Fisher, which
induced the community there to suppose he had been disposed of unfairly.
Keys made this letter public, which immediately set the whole town and
adjoining county agog. And so it has continued until yesterday. The mass
of the people commenced a systematic search for the dead body, while
Wickersbam was despatched to arrest Henry Trailor at the Grove, and Jim
Maxcy to Warren to arrest William. On Monday last, Henry was brought in,
and showed an evident inclination to insinuate that he knew Fisher to be
dead, and that Arch, and William had killed him. He said he guessed the
body could be found in Spring Creek, between the Beardstown Road and
Hickox's mill. Away the people swept like a herd of buffalo, and cut
down Hickox's mill-dam _nolens volens_, to draw the water out of the
pond, and then went up and down, and down and up the creek, fishing and
raking, and raking and ducking, and diving for two days, and, after all,
no dead body found. In the mean time a sort of a scuffling-ground had
been found in the brush in the angle, or point, where the road leading
into the woods past the brewery, and the one leading in past the brick
grove meet. From the scuffle-ground was the sign of something about
the size of a man having been dragged to the edge of the thicket, where
joined the track of some small wheeled carriage drawn by one horse,
as shown by the road-tracks. The carriage-track led off toward Spring
Creek. Near this drag-trail Dr. Merryman found two hairs, which, after a
long scientific examination, he pronounced to be triangular human hair,
which term, he says, includes within it the whiskers, the hair growing
under the arms, and on other parts of the body; and he judged that these
two were of the whiskers, because the ends were cut, showing that
they had flourished in the neighborhood of the razor's operations. On
Thursday last Jim Maxcy brought in William Trailor from Warren. On the
same day Arch, was arrested, and put in jail. Yesterday (Friday) William
was put upon his examining trial before May and Lavely. Archibald and
Henry were both present. Lamborn prosecuted, and Logan, Baker, and your
humble servant defended. A great many witnesses were introduced and
examined, but I shall only mention those whose testimony seemed most
important. The first of these was Capt. Ransdell. He swore, that, when
William and Henry left Springfield for home on Tuesday before mentioned,
they did not take the direct route,--which, you know, leads by the
butcher-shop,--but that they followed the street north until they got
opposite, or nearly opposite, May's new house, after which he could not
see them from where he stood; and it was afterwards proved, that, in
about an hour after they started, they came into the street by the
butcher's shop from towards the brick-yard. Dr. Merryman and others
swore to what is stated about the scuffle-ground, drag-trail, whiskers,
and carriage-tracks. Henry was then introduced by the prosecution.
He swore, that, when they started for home, they went out north, as
Ransdell stated, and turned down west by the brick-yard into the woods,
and there met Archibald; that they proceeded a small distance farther,
when he was placed as a sentinel to watch for and announce the approach
of any one that might happen that way; that William and Arch, took the
dearborn out of the road a small distance to the edge of the thicket,
where they stopped, and he saw them lift the body of a man into it; that
they then moved off with the carriage in the direction of Hickox's mill,
and he loitered about for something like an hour, when William returned
with the carriage, but without Arch., and said they had put him in a
safe place; that they went somehow, he did not know exactly how, into
the road close to the brewery, and proceeded on to Clary's Grove. He
also stated that some time during the day William told him that he and
Arch, had killed Fisher the evening before; that the way they did it was
by him (William) knocking him down with a club, and Arch, then choking
him to death. An old man from Warren, called Dr. Gilmore, was then
introduced on the part of the defence. He swore that he had known Fisher
for several years; that Fisher had resided at his house a long time at
each of two different spells,--once while he built a barn for him, and
once while he was doctored for some chronic disease; that two or three
years ago Fisher had a serious hurt in his head by the bursting of
a gun, since which he had been subject to continued bad health and
occasional aberration of mind. He also stated that on last Tuesday,
being the same day that Maxcy arrested William Trailor, he (the doctor)
was from home in the early part of the day, and on his return, about 11
o'clock, found Fisher at his house in bed, and apparently very unwell;
that he asked him how he had come from Springfield; that Fisher said he
had come by Peoria, and also told of several other places he had been
at, more in the direction of Peoria, which showed that he at the time
of speaking did not know where he had been wandering about in a state
of derangement. He further stated, that in about two hours he received
a note from one of Trail-or's friends, advising him of his arrest, and
requesting him to go on to Springfield as a witness, to testify as to
the state of Fisher's health in former times; that he immediately set
off, calling up two of his neighbors as company, and, riding all evening
and all night, overtook Maxcy and William at Lewiston in Fulton. County;
That Maxcy refusing to discharge Trailor upon his statement, his two
neighbors returned, and he came on to Springfield. Some question being
made as to whether the doctor's story was not a fabrication, several
acquaintances of his (among whom was the same postmaster who wrote to
Keys, as before mentioned) were introduced as sort of compurgators, who
swore that they knew the doctor to be of good character for truth
and veracity, and generally of good character in every way. Here the
testimony ended, and the Trailors were discharged, Arch, and William
expressing, both in word and manner, their entire confidence that Fisher
would be found alive at the doctor's by Galloway, Mallory, and Myers,
who a day before had been despatched for that purpose; while Henry still
protested that no power on earth could ever show Fisher alive. Thus
stands this curious affair. When the doctor's story was first made
public, it was amusing to scan and contemplate the countenances, and
hear the remarks, of those who had been actively engaged in the search
for the dead body: some looked quizzical, some melancholy, and some
furiously angry. Porter, who had been very active, swore he always knew
the man was not dead, and that he had not stirred an inch to hunt for
him: Langford, who had taken the lead in cutting down Hickox's mill-dam,
and wanted to hang Hickox for objecting, looked most awfully woebegone;
he seemed the "_wictim of hunrequited affection_," as represented in the
comic almanacs we used to laugh over. And Hart, the little drayman
that hauled Molly home once, said it was too damned bad to have so much
trouble, and no hanging, after all.
I commenced this letter on yesterday, since which I received yours of
the 13th. I stick to my promise to come to Louisville. Nothing new here,
except what I have written. I have not seen------since my last trip; and
I am going out there as soon as I mail this letter.
Yours forever,
Lincoln.
On the 3d of December, 1839, Mr. Lincoln was admitted to practice in
the Circuit Court of the United States; and on the same day the names
of Stephen A. Douglas, S. H. Treat, Schuyler Strong, and two other
gentlemen, were placed on the same roll. The "Little Giant" is always in
sight!
The first speech he delivered in the Supreme Court of the State was
one the like of which will never be heard again, and must have led the
judges to doubt the sanity of the new attorney. We give it in the form
in which it seems to be authenticated by Judge Treat:--
"A case being called for hearing in the Court, Mr. Lincoln stated
that he appeared for the appellant, and was ready to proceed with the
argument. He then said, 'This is the first case I have ever had in this
court, and I have therefore examined it with great care. As the Court
will perceive, by looking at the abstract of, the record, the only
question in the case is one of authority. I have not been able to find
any authority sustaining _my_ side of the case, but I _have found_
several cases directly in point on the _other_ side. I will now give
_these_ cases, and then submit the case.'"
The testimony of all the lawyers, his contemporaries and rivals, is in
the same direction. "But Mr. Lincoln's love of justice and fair play,"
says Mr. Gillespie, "was his predominating trait. I have often listened
to him when I thought he would certainly state his case out of Court.
It was not in his nature to assume, or to attempt to bolster up, a false
position. He would abandon his case first. He did so in the case of
Buckmaster for the use of Denham vs. Beenes and Arthur, in our Supreme
Court, in which I happened to be opposed to him. Another gentleman, less
fastidious, took Mr. Lincoln's place, and gained the case."
In the Patterson trial--a case of murder which attained some
celebrity--in Champaign County, Ficklin and Lamon prosecuted, and
Lincoln and Swett defended. After hearing the testimony, Mr. Lincoln
felt himself morally paralyzed, and said, "Swett, the man is guilty:
you defend him; I can't." They got a fee of five hundred or a thousand
dollars; of which Mr. Lincoln declined to take a cent, on the ground
that it justly belonged to Swett, whose ardor, courage, and eloquence
had saved the guilty man from justice.
It was probably his deep sense of natural justice, his irresistible
propensity to get at the equities of the matter in hand, that made him
so utterly impatient of all arbitrary or technical rules. Of these he
knew very little,--less than an average student of six months: "Hence,"
says Judge Davis, "a child could make use of the simple and technical
rules, the means and mode of getting at justice, better than Lincoln
could." "In this respect," says Mr. Herndon, "I really think he was very
deficient."
Sangamon County was originally in the First Judicial Circuit; but under
the Constitution of 1848, and sundry changes in the Judiciary Acts, it
became the Eighth Circuit. It was in 1848 that Judge Davis came on the
bench for the first time. The circuit was a very large one, containing
fourteen counties, and comprising the central portion of the State.
Lincoln travelled all over it--first with Judge Treat and then with
Judge Davis--twice every year, and was thus absent from Springfield
and home nearly, if not quite, six months out of every twelve. "In my
opinion," says Judge Davis, "Lincoln was as happy as _he_ could be,
on this circuit, and happy in no other place. This was his place of
enjoyment. As a general rule, of a Saturday evening, when all the
lawyers would go home [the judge means those who were close enough to
get there and back by the time their cases were called] and see their
families and friends, Lincoln would refuse to go." "It was on this
circuit," we are told by an authority equally high, "that he shone as a
_nisi prius_ lawyer; it was on this circuit Lincoln thought, spoke, and
acted; it was on this circuit that the people met, greeted, and cheered
on the man; it was on this circuit that he cracked his jokes, told his
stories, made his money, and was happy as nowhere in the world beside."
When, in 1857, Sangamon County was cut off from the Eighth Circuit by
the act creating the Eighteenth, "Mr. Lincoln would still continue with
Judge Davis, first finishing his business in Sangamon."
On his return from one of these long journeys, he found that Mrs.
Lincoln had taken advantage of his absence, and, with the connivance and
assistance of his neighbor, Gourly, had placed a second story and a new
roof on his house. Approaching it for the first time after this rather
startling alteration, and pretending not to recognize it, he called to
a man on the street, "Stranger, can you tell me where Lincoln lives? He
used to live here."
When Mr. Lincoln first began to "ride the circuit," he was too poor to
own horseflesh or vehicle, and was compelled to borrow from his friends.
But in due time he became the proprietor of a horse, which he fed and
groomed himself, and to which he was very much attached. On this animal
he would set out from home, to be gone for weeks together, with no
baggage but a pair of saddle-bags, containing a change of linen, and
an old cotton umbrella, to shelter him from sun or rain. When he got a
little more of this world's goods, he set up a one-horse buggy,--a
very sorry and shabby-looking affair, which he generally used when the
weather promised to be bad. But the lawyers were always glad to see him,
and the landlords hailed his coming with pleasure. Yet he was one of
those peculiar, gentle, uncomplaining men, whom those servants of
the public who keep "hotels" would generally put off with the most
indifferent accommodations. It was a very significant remark of a lawyer
thoroughly acquainted with his habits and disposition, that "Lincoln
was never seated next the landlord at a crowded table, and never got a
chicken liver or the best cut from the roast." If rooms were scarce, and
one, two, three, or four gentlemen were required to lodge together, in
order to accommodate some surly man who "stood upon his rights," Lincoln
was sure to be one of the unfortunates. Yet he loved the life, and never
went home without reluctance.
From Mr. S. O. Parks of Lincoln, himself a most reputable lawyer, we
have two or three anecdotes, which we give in his own language:--
"I have often said, that, for a man who was for the quarter of a century
both a lawyer and a politician, he was the most honest man I ever knew.
He was not only morally honest, but intellectually so. He could not
reason falsely: if he attempted it, he failed. In politics he never
would try to mislead. At the bar, when he thought he was wrong, he was
the weakest lawyer I ever saw. You know this better than I do. But I
will give you an example or two which occurred in this county, and which
you may not remember.
"A man was indicted for larceny: Lincoln, Young, and myself defended
him. Lincoln was satisfied by the evidence that he was guilty, and ought
to be convicted. He called Young and myself aside, and said, 'If you can
say any thing for the man, do it. I can't: if I attempt, the jury will
see that I think he is guilty, and convict him, of course.' The case was
submitted by us to the jury without a word. The jury failed to agree;
and before the next term the man died. Lincoln's honesty undoubtedly
saved him from the penitentiary.
"In a closely-contested civil suit, Lincoln had proved an account for
his client, who was, though he did not know it at the time, a very
slippery fellow. The opposing attorney then proved a receipt clearly
covering the entire cause of action. By the time he was through, Lincoln
was missing. The court sent for him to the hotel. 'Tell the judge,' said
he, 'that I can't come: _my hands are dirty; and I came over to clean
them!_'
"In the case of Harris and Jones vs. Buckles, Harris wanted Lincoln to
assist you and myself. His answer was characteristic: 'Tell Harris it's
no use to _waste money on me_ in that case: he'll get beat.'"
Mr. Lincoln was prone to adventures in which _pigs_ were the other
party. The reader has already enjoyed one from the pen of Miss Owen; and
here is another, from an incorrigible humorist, a lawyer, named J. H.
Wickizer:--
"In 1855 Mr. Lincoln and myself were travelling by buggy from Woodford
County Court to Bloomington, 111.; and, in passing through a little
grove, we suddenly heard the terrific squealing of a little pig near by
us. Quick as thought Mr. Lincoln leaped out of the buggy, seized a club,
pounced upon the old sow, and beat her lustily: she was in the act of
eating one of her young ones. Thus he saved the pig, and then remarked,
'By jing! the unnatural old brute shall not devour her own progeny!'
This, I think, was his first proclamation of freedom."
But Mr. Wickizer gives us another story, which most happily illustrates
the readiness of Mr. Lincoln's wit:--
"In 1858, in the court at Bloomington, Mr. Lincoln was engaged in a case
of no great importance; but the attorney on the other side, Mr. S------,
a young lawyer of fine abilities (now a judge of the Supreme Court of
the State), was always very sensitive about being beaten, and in this
case manifested unusual zeal and interest. The case lasted until late
at night, when it was finally submitted to the jury. Mr. S------spent a
sleepless night in anxiety, and early next morning learned, to his great
chagrin, that he had lost the case. Mr. Lincoln met him at the Court
House, and asked him what had become of his case. With lugubrious
countenance and melancholy tone, Mr. S-said, 'It's gone to hell.'--'Oh,
well!' replied Lincoln, 'then you'll see it again!'"
Although the humble condition and disreputable character of some of his
relations and connections were the subject of constant annoyance and
most painful reflections, he never tried to shake them off, and
never abandoned them when they needed his assistance. A son of his
foster-brother, John Johnston, was arrested in------County for stealing
a watch.
Mr. Lincoln went to the same town to address a mass meeting while the
poor boy was in jail. He waited until the dusk of the evening, and then,
in company with Mr. H. C. Whitney, visited the prison. "Lincoln knew he
was guilty," says Mr. Whitney, "and was very deeply affected,--more
than I ever saw him. At the next term of the court, upon the State's
Attorney's consent, Lincoln and I went to the prosecution witnesses, and
got them to come into open court, and state that they did not care to
presecute." The boy was released; and that evening, as the lawyers were
leaving the town in their buggies, Mr. Lincoln was observed to get down
from his, and walk back a short distance to a poor, distressed-looking
young man who stood by the roadside. It was young Johnston. Mr. Lincoln
engaged for a few moments apparently in earnest and nervous conversation
with him, then giving him some money, and returning to his buggy, drove
on.
A thousand tales could be told of Mr. Lincoln's amusing tricks and
eccentricities on these quiet rides from county to county, in company
with judges and lawyers, and of his quaint sayings and curious doings at
the courts in these Western villages. But, much against our will, we are
compelled to make selections, and present a few only, which rest upon
the most undoubted authority.
It is well known that he used to carry with him, on what Mr. Stuart
calls "the tramp around the circuit," ordinary school-books,--from
Euclid down to an English grammar,--and study them as he rode along, or
at intervals of leisure in the towns where he stopped. He supplemented
these with a copy of Shakspeare, got much of it by rote, and recited
long passages from it to any chance companion by the way.
He was intensely fond of cutting wood with an axe; and he was often
seen to jump from his buggy, seize an axe out of the hands of a roadside
chopper, take his place on the log in the most approved fashion, and,
with his tremendous long strokes, cut it in two before the man could
recover from his surprise.
It was this free life that charmed him, and reconciled him to existence.
Here he forgot the past, with all its cruelties and mortifications:
here were no domestic afflictions to vex his weary spirit and to try his
magnanimous heart.
"After he had returned from Congress," says Judge Davis, "and had lost
his practice, Goodrich of Chicago proposed to him to open a law-office
in Chicago, and go into partnership with him. Goodrich had an extensive
practice there. Lincoln refused to accept, and gave as a reason, that he
tended to consumption; that, if he went to Chicago, he would have to
sit down and study hard, and it would kill him; that he would rather go
around the circuit--the Eighth Judicial Circuit--than to sit down and
die in Chicago."
In the summer of 1857, at a camp-meeting in Mason County, one Metzgar
was most brutally murdered. The affray took place about half a mile
from the place of worship, near some wagons loaded with liquors and
provisions. Two men, James H. Norris and William D. Armstrong, were
indicted for the crime. Norris was tried in Mason County, convicted of
manslaughter, and sentenced to the penitentiary for the term of eight
years. But Armstrong, the popular feeling being very high against him in
Mason, "took a change of venue to Cass County," and was there tried
(at Beardstown) in the spring of 1858. Hitherto Armstrong had had
the services of two able counsellors, but now their efforts were
supplemented by those of a most determined and zealous volunteer.
Armstrong was the son of Jack and Hannah Armstrong of New Salem, the
child whom Mr. Lincoln had rocked in the cradle while Mrs. Armstrong
attended to other household duties. His life was now in imminent peril:
he seemed clearly guilty; and, if he was to be saved, it must be by the
interposition of some power which could deface that fatal record in the
Norris trial, refute the senses of witnesses, and make a jury forget
themselves and their oaths. Old Hannah had one friend whom she devoutly
believed could accomplish this. She wrote to Mr. Lincoln, and he replied
that he would defend the boy. (She says she has lost his letter.)
Afterwards she visited him at Springfield, and prepared him for the
event as well as she could, with an understanding weakened by a long
strain of severe and almost hopeless reflection.
When the trial came on, Mr. Lincoln appeared for the defence. His
colleague, Mr. Walker, had possessed him of the record in the Norris
case; and, upon close and anxious examination, he was satisfied that the
witnesses could, by a well-sustained and judicious cross-examination, be
made to contradict each other in some important particulars. Mr. Walker
"handled" the victims of this friendly design, while Mr. Lincoln sat
by and suggested questions. Nevertheless, to the unskilled mind, the
testimony seemed to be absolutely conclusive against the prisoner, and
every word of it fell like a new sentence of death. Norris had beaten
the murdered man with a club from behind, while Armstrong had pounded
him in the face with a slung-shot deliberately prepared for the
occasion; and, according to the medical men, either would have been
fatal without the other. But the witness whose testimony bore hardest
upon Armstrong swore that the crime was committed about eleven o'clock
at night, and that he saw the blows struck by the light of a moon nearly
full, and standing in the heavens about where the sun would stand at
ten o'clock in the morning. It is easy to pervert and even to destroy
evidence like this; and here Mr. Lincoln saw an opportunity which nobody
had dreamed of on the Norris trial. He handed to an officer of the court
an almanac, and told him to give it back to him when he should call for
it in presence of the jury. It was an almanac of the year previous to
the murder.
"Mr. Lincoln," says Mr. Walker, "made the closing argument for the
defence. At first he spoke slowly, and carefully reviewed the whole
testimony,--picked it all to pieces, and showed that the man had not
received his wounds at the place or time named by the witnesses, _but
afterwards, and at the hands of some one else_" "The evidence bore
heavily upon his client," says Mr. Shaw, one of the counsel for the
prosecution. "There were many witnesses, and each one seemed to add one
more cord that seemed to bind him down, until Mr. Lincoln was something
in the situation of Gulliver after his first sleep in Lilliput. But,
when he came to talk to the jury (that was always his forte), he
resembled Gulliver again. He skilfully untied here and there a knot,
and loosened here and there a peg, until, fairly getting warmed up,
he raised himself in his full power, and shook the arguments of his
opponents from him as if they were cobwebs." In due time he called for
the almanac, and easily proved by it, that, at the time the main witness
declared the moon was shining in great splendor, there was, in fact, no
moon at all, but black darkness over the whole scene. In the "roar
of laughter" and undisguised astonishment succeeding this apparent
demonstration, court, jury, and counsel forgot to examine that seemingly
conclusive almanac, and let it pass without a question concerning its
genuineness.1
In conclusion, Mr. Lincoln drew a touching picture of Jack Armstrong
(whose gentle spirit alas! had gone to that place of coronation for
the meek), and Hannah,--this sweet-faced old lady with the silver
locks,--welcoming to their humble cabin a strange and penniless boy,
to whom Jack, with that Christian benevolence which distinguished him
through life, became as a father, and the guileless Hannah even more
than a mother. The boy, he said, stood before them pleading for the life
of his benefactors' son,--the staff of the widow's declining years.
1 Mr. E. J. Loomis, assistant in charge of the "Nautical
Almanac" office, Washington, D.C., under date of Aug.
1,1871, says,--
"Referring to the 'Nautical Almanac' for 1857, I find, that,
between the hours of ten and eleven o'clock on the night of
the 29th of August, 1857, the moon was within one hour of
setting.
"The computed time of its setting on that night is 11 h. 57
m.,--three minutes before midnight.
"The moon was only two days past its first quarter, and
could hardly be mistaken for 'nearly full.'"
"In the case of the People vs. Armstrong, I was assisting
prosecuting counsel. The prevailing belief at that time, and
I may also say at the present, in Cass County, was as
follows:--
"Mr. Lincoln, previous to the trial, handed an almanac of
the year previous to the murder to an officer of the court,
stating that he might call for one during the trial, and, if
he did, to send him that one. An important witness for the
People had fixed the time of the murder to be in the night,
near a camp-meeting; 'that the moon was about in the same
place that the sun would be at ten o'clock in the morning,
and was nearly full,'therefore he could see plainly, &c. At
the proper time, Mr. Lincoln called to the officer for an
almanac; and the one prepared for the occasion was shown by
Mr. 'Lincoln, he reading from it at the time referred to by
the witness 'The moon had already set;' that in the roar of
laughter the jury and opposing counsel forgot to look at the
date. Mr. Carter, a lawyer of this city (Beardstown), who
was present at, but not engaged in, the Armstrong case, says
he is satisfied that the almanac was of the year previous,
and thinks he examined it at the time. This was the general
impression in the court-room. I have called on the sheriff
who officiated at that time (James A. Dick), who says that
he saw a 'Goudy's Almanac' lying upon Mr. Lincoln's table
during the trial, and that Mr. Lincoln took it out of his
own pocket. Mr. Dick does not know the date of it. I have
seen several of the petit jurymen who sat upon the case, who
only recollect that the almanac floored the witness. But one
of the jurymen, the foreman, Mr. Milton Logan, says that it
was the one for the year of the murder, and no trick about
it; that he is willing to make an affidavit that he examined
it as to date, and that it was an almanac of the year of the
murder. My own opinion is, that when an almanac was called
for by Mr. Lincoln, two were brought, one of the year of the
murder, and one of the year previous; that Mr. Lincoln was
entirely innocent of any deception in the matter. I the more
think this, from the fact that Armstrong was not cleared by
any want of testimony against him, but by the irresistible
appeal of Mr. Lincoln in his favor."--Henry Shaw.
"The last fifteen minutes of his speech," his colleague declares, "was
as eloquent as I ever heard; and such the power and earnestness with
which he spoke to that jury, that all sat as if entranced, and, when
he was through, found relief in a gush of tears." "He took the jury by
storm," says one of the prosecutors. "There were tears in Mr. Lincoln's
eyes while he spoke, but they were genuine. His sympathies were fully
enlisted in favor of the young man, and his terrible sincerity could
not help but arouse the same passion in the jury. I have said a hundred
times that it was Lincoln's speech that saved that criminal from the
gallows." In the language of Hannah, who sat by enchanted, "he told the
stories about our first acquaintance,--what I did for him, and how I did
it;" and she thinks it "was truly eloquent."
"As to the trial," continues Hannah, "Lincoln said to me, 'Hannah, your
son will be cleared before sundown.' He and the other lawyers addressed
the jury, and closed the case. I went down at Thompson's pasture: Stator
came to me, and told me soon that my son was cleared and a free man.
I went up to the Court House: the jury shook hands with me, so did the
Court, so did Lincoln. We were all affected, and tears, streamed down
Lincoln's eyes. He then remarked to me, 'Hannah, what did I tell you? I
pray to God that William may be a good boy hereafter; that this lesson
may prove in the end a good lesson to him and to all.'... After the
trial was over, Lincoln came down to where I was in Beardstown. I asked
him what he charged me; told him I was poor. He said, 'Why, Hannah, I
sha'n't charge you a cent,--never. Any thing I can do for you I will do
for you willing and freely without charges.' He wrote to me about some
land which some men were trying to get from me, and said, 'Hannah, they
can't get your land. Let them try it in the Circuit Court, and then you
appeal it; bring it to Supreme Court, and I and Herndon will attend to
it for nothing.'"
This boy William enlisted in the Union army. But in 1863 Hannah
concluded she "wanted" him. She does not say that William was laboring
under any disability, or that he had any legal right to his discharge.
She merely "wanted" him, and wrote Mr. Lincoln to that effect. He
replied promptly by telegraph:--
September, 1863.
Mrs. Hannah Armstrong,--I have just ordered the discharge of your boy
William, as you say, now at Louisville, Ky.
A. Lincoln.
For many years Mr. Lincoln was the attorney of the Illinois Central
Railway Company; and, having rendered in some recent causes most
important and laborious services, he presented a bill in 1857 for five
thousand dollars. He pressed for his money, and was referred to some
under-official who was charged with that class of business. Mr. Lincoln
would probably have modified his bill, which seemed exorbitant as
charges went among country lawyers, but the company treated him with
such rude insolence, that he contented himself with a formal demand,
and then immediately instituted suit on the claim. The case was tried at
Bloomington before Judge Davis; and, upon affidavits of N. B. Judd, O.
H.
Browning, S. T. Logan, and Archy Williams, respecting the value of the
services, was decided in favor of the plaintiff, and judgment given for
five thousand dollars. This was much more money than Mr. Lincoln had
ever had at one time.
In the summer of 1859 Mr. Lincoln went to Cincinnati to argue the
celebrated McCormick reaping-machine case. Mr. Edwin M. Stanton, whom he
never saw before, was one of his colleagues, and the leading counsel
in the case; and although the other gentlemen engaged received him with
proper respect, Mr. Stanton treated him with such marked and habitual
discourtesy, that he was compelled to withdraw from the case. When he
reached home he said that he had "never been so brutally treated as by
that man Stanton;" and the facts justified the statement.