THE YOUNG LEGISLATOR IN LOVE
SMOOT'S RESPONSIBILITY
Paying his debts had kept Lincoln so poor that, though he had been
elected to the Legislature, he was not properly clothed or equipped to
make himself presentable as the people's representative at the State
capital, then located at Vandalia. One day he went with a friend to call
on an older acquaintance, named Smoot, who was almost as dry a joker as
himself, but Smoot had more of this world's goods than the young
legislator-elect. Lincoln began at once to chaff his friend.
"Smoot," said he, "did you vote for me?"
"I did that very thing," answered Smoot.
"Well," said Lincoln with a wink, "that makes you responsible. You must
lend me the money to buy suitable clothing, for I want to make a decent
appearance in the Legislature."
"How much do you want?" asked Smoot.
"About two hundred dollars, I reckon."
For friendship's sake and for the honor of Sangamon County the young
representative received the money at once.
ANN RUTLEDGE--"LOVED AND LOST"
Abe Lincoln's new suit of clothes made him look still more handsome in
the eyes of Ann, the daughter of the proprietor of Rutledge's Tavern,
where Abe was boarding at that time. She was a beautiful girl who had
been betrothed to a young man named McNamar, who was said to have
returned to New York State to care for his dying father and look after
the family estate. It began to leak out that this young man was going
about under an assumed name and certain suspicious circumstances came to
light. But Ann, though she loved the young legislator, still clung to
her promise and the man who had proved false to her. As time went on,
though she was supposed to be betrothed to Mr. Lincoln, the treatment
she had received from the recreant lover preyed upon her mind so that
she fell into a decline in the summer of 1835, about a year after her
true lover's election to the Legislature.
William O. Stoddard, one of the President's private secretaries, has
best told the story of the young lover's despair over the loss of his
first love:
"It is not known precisely when Ann Rutledge told her suitor that her
heart was his, but early in 1835 it was publicly known that they were
solemnly betrothed. Even then the scrupulous maiden waited for the
return of the absent McNamar, that she might be formally released from
the obligation to him which he had so recklessly forfeited. Her friends
argued with her that she was carrying her scruples too far, and at last,
as neither man nor letter came, she permitted it to be understood that
she would marry Abraham Lincoln as soon as his legal studies should be
completed.
"That was a glorious summer for him; the brightest, sweetest, most
hopeful he yet had known. It was also the fairest time he was ever to
see; for even now, as the golden days came and went, they brought an
increasing shadow on their wings. It was a shadow that was not to pass
away. Little by little came indications that the health of Ann Rutledge
had suffered under the prolonged strain to which she had been subjected.
Her sensitive nature had been strung to too high a tension and the
chords of her life were beginning to give way.
"There were those of her friends who said that she died of a broken
heart, but the doctors called it 'brain fever.'
"On the 25th of August, 1835, just before the summer died, she passed
away from earth. But she never faded from the heart of Abraham
Lincoln. . . . In her early grave was buried the best hope he ever knew,
and the shadow of that great darkness was never entirely lifted from
him.
"A few days before Ann's death a message from her brought her betrothed
to her bedside, and they were left alone. No one ever knew what passed
between them in the endless moments of that last sad farewell; but
Lincoln left the house with inexpressible agony written upon his face.
He had been to that hour a man of marvelous poise and self-control, but
the pain he now struggled with grew deeper and more deep, until, when
they came and told him she was dead, his heart and will, and even his
brain itself gave way. He was utterly without help or the knowledge of
possible help in this world or beyond it. He was frantic for a time,
seeming even to lose the sense of his own identity, and all New Salem
said that he was insane. He piteously moaned and raved:
"'I never can be reconciled to have the snow, rain, and storms beat upon
her grave.'
"His best friends seemed to have lost their influence over him, . . . all
but one; for Bowling Green . . . managed to entice the poor fellow to his
own home, a short distance from the village, there to keep watch and
ward over him until the fury of his sorrow should wear away. There were
well-grounded fears lest he might do himself some injury, and the watch
was vigilantly kept.
"In a few weeks reason again obtained the mastery, and it was safe to
let him return to his studies and his work. He could indeed work again,
and he could once more study law, for there was a kind of relief in
steady occupation and absorbing toil, but he was not, could not ever be
the same man. . . .
"Lincoln had been fond of poetry from boyhood, and had gradually made
himself familiar with large parts of Shakespeare's plays and the works
of other great writers. He now discovered, in a strange collection of
verses, the one poem which seemed best to express the morbid, troubled,
sore condition of his mind, . . . the lines by William Knox, beginning:
"'Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift fleeting meteor, a fast flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave:'"
"THE LONG NINE" AND THE REMOVAL TO SPRINGFIELD
Two years was the term for which Lincoln was elected to the Legislature.
The year following the death of Ann Rutledge he threw himself into a
vigorous campaign for re-election. He had found much to do at Vandalia.
The greatest thing was the proposed removal of the State capital to
Springfield. In this enterprise he had the co-operation of a group of
tall men, known as "the Long Nine," of whom he was the tallest and came
to be the leader.
Lincoln announced his second candidacy in this brief, informal letter in
the county paper:
"NEW SALEM, June 13, 1836.
"TO THE EDITOR OR THE JOURNAL:
"In your paper of last Saturday I see a
communication over the signature of 'Many
Voters' in which the candidates who are
announced in the _Journal_ are called upon to
'show their hands.'
"Agreed. Here's mine:
"I go in for all sharing the privileges of the
government who assist in bearing its burdens.
Consequently, I go for admitting all whites to
the right of suffrage who pay taxes or bear
arms (by no means excluding females).
"If elected, I shall consider the whole people
of Sangamon my constituents, as well those that
oppose as those that support me.
"While acting as their Representative, I shall
be governed by their will on all subjects upon
which I have the means of knowing what their
will is; and upon all others I shall do what my
own judgment teaches me will best advance
their interests. Whether elected or not, I go
for distributing the proceeds of public lands
to the several States to enable our State, in
common with others, to dig canals and construct
railroads without borrowing and paying interest
on it.
"If alive on the first Monday in November, I
shall vote for Hugh L. White for President.
"Very respectfully,
"A. LINCOLN."
The earliest railroads in the United States had been built during the
five years just preceding this announcement, the first one of all, only
thirteen miles long, near Baltimore, in 1831. It is interesting to
observe the enthusiasm with which the young frontier politician caught
the progressive idea, and how quickly the minds of the people turned
from impossible river "improvements" to the grand possibilities of
railway transportation.
Many are the stories of the remarkable Sangamon campaign in 1836. Rowan
Herndon, Abe's fellow pilot and storekeeper, told the following:
WINNING VOTES, WIELDING THE "CRADLE" IN A WHEAT FIELD
"Abraham came to my house, near Island Grove, during harvest. There were
some thirty men in the field. He got his dinner and went out into the
field, where the men were at work. I gave him an introduction, and the
boys said that they could not vote for a man unless he could take a
hand.
"'Well, boys,' said he, 'if that is all, I am sure of your votes' He
took the 'cradle' and led all the way round with perfect ease. The boys
were satisfied, and I don't think he lost a vote in the crowd.
"The next day there was speaking at Berlin. He went from my house with
Dr. Barnett, who had asked me who this man Lincoln was. I told him that
he was a candidate for the Legislature. He laughed and said:
"'Can't the party raise any better material than that?'
"I said, 'Go to-morrow and hear him before you pronounce judgment.'
"When he came back I said, 'Doctor, what do you say now?'
"'Why, sir,' said he, 'he is a perfect "take-in." He knows more than
all of them put together.'"
TALKED TO A WOMAN WHILE HIS RIVAL MILKED
Young Lincoln happened to call to speak to a leading farmer in the
district, and found his rival, a Democratic candidate, there on the same
errand. The farmer was away from home, so each of the candidates did his
best to gain the good-will of the farmer's "better half," who was on her
way to milk the cow. The Democrat seized the pail and insisted on doing
the work for her. Lincoln did not make the slightest objection, but
improved the opportunity thus given to chat with their hostess. This he
did so successfully that when his rival had finished the unpleasant
task, the only acknowledgment he received was a profusion of thanks from
the woman for the opportunity he had given her of having "_such a
pleasant talk with Mr. Lincoln_!"
HOW THE LIGHTNING STRUCK FORQUER, IN SPITE OF HIS LIGHTNING-ROD
Abe distinguished himself in his first political speech at Springfield,
the county seat. A leading citizen there, George Forquer, was accused
of changing his political opinions to secure a certain government
position; he also had his fine residence protected by the first
lightning-rod ever seen in that part of the country.
The contest was close and exciting. There were seven Democratic and
seven Whig candidates for the lower branch of the Legislature. Forquer,
though not a candidate, asked to be heard in reply to young Lincoln,
whom he proceeded to attack in a sneering overbearing way, ridiculing
the young man's appearance, dress, manners and so on. Turning to Lincoln
who then stood within a few feet of him, Forquer announced his intention
in these words: "This young man must be taken down, and I am truly sorry
that the task devolves upon me."
The "Clary's Grove Boys," who attended the meeting in a body--or a
gang!--could hardly be restrained from arising in their might and
smiting the pompous Forquer, hip and thigh.
But their hero, with pale face and flashing eyes, smiled as he shook his
head at them, and calmly answered the insulting speech of his opponent.
Among other things he said:
"The gentleman commenced his speech by saying 'this young man,' alluding
to me, 'must be taken down.' I am not so young in years as I am in the
tricks and trades of a politician, but"--pointing at Forquer--"live long
or die young, I would rather die now than, like the gentleman, change my
politics, and with the change receive an office worth three thousand
dollars a year, and then feel obliged to erect a lightning-rod over my
house to protect a guilty conscience from an offended God!"
This stroke blasted Forquer's political prospects forever, and satisfied
the Clary's Grove Boys that it was even better than all the things they
would have done to him.
ABE LINCOLN AS A "BLOATED ARISTOCRAT"
On another occasion Lincoln's wit suddenly turned the tables on an
abusive opponent. One of the Democratic orators was Colonel Dick Taylor,
a dapper, but bombastic little man, who rode in his carriage, and
dressed richly. But, politically, he boasted of belonging to the
Democrats, "the bone and sinew, the hard-fisted yeomanry of the land,"
and sneered at those "rag barons," those Whig aristocrats, the "silk
stocking gentry!" As Abe Lincoln, the leading Whig present, was dressed
in Kentucky jeans, coarse boots, a checkered shirt without a collar or
necktie, and an old slouch hat, Colonel Taylor's attack on the "bloated
Whig aristocracy" sounded rather absurd.
Once the colonel made a gesture so violent that it tore his vest open
and exposed his elegant shirt ruffles, his gold watch-fob, his seals and
other ornaments to the view of all. Before Taylor, in his embarrassment,
could adjust his waistcoat, Lincoln stepped to the front exclaiming:
"Behold the hard-fisted Democrat! Look at this specimen of 'bone and
sinew'--and here, gentlemen," laying his big work-bronzed hand on his
heart and bowing obsequiously--"here, at your service, is your
'aristocrat!' Here is one of your 'silk stocking gentry!'" Then
spreading out his great bony hands he continued, "Here is your 'rag
baron' with his lily-white hands. Yes, I suppose I am, according to my
friend Taylor, a 'bloated aristocrat!'"
The contrast was so ludicrous, and Abe had quoted the speaker's stock
phrases with such a marvelous mimicry that the crowd burst into a roar,
and Colonel Dick Taylor's usefulness as a campaign speaker was at an
end.
Small wonder, then, that young Lincoln's wit, wisdom and power of
ridicule made him known in that campaign as one of the greatest orators
in the State, or that he was elected by such an astonishing plurality
that the county, which had always been strongly Democratic, elected Whig
representatives that year.
After Herculean labors "the Long Nine" succeeded in having the State
capital removed from Vandalia to Springfield. This move added greatly to
the influence and renown of its "prime mover," Abraham Lincoln, who was
feasted and "toasted" by the people of Springfield and by politicians
all over the State. After reading "Blackstone" during his political
campaigns, young Lincoln fell in again with Major John T. Stuart, whom
he had met in the Black Hawk War, and who gave him helpful advice and
lent him other books that he might "read law."
THE LINCOLN-STONE PROTEST
Although he had no idea of it at the time, Abraham Lincoln took part in
a grander movement than the removal of a State capital. Resolutions were
adopted in the Legislature in favor of slavery and denouncing the hated
"abolitionists"--or people who spoke and wrote for the abolition of
slavery. It required true heroism for a young man thus to stand out
against the legislators of his State, but Abe Lincoln seems to have
thought little of that. The hatred of the people for any one who opposed
slavery was very bitter. Lincoln found one man, named Stone, who was
willing to sign a protest against the resolutions favoring slavery,
which read as follows:
"Resolutions upon the subject of domestic
slavery having passed both branches of the
General Assembly at its present session, the
undersigned hereby protest against the passage
of the same.
"They believe that the institution of slavery
is founded on both injustice and bad policy.
[After several statements of their belief
concerning the powers of Congress, the protest
closed as follows:]
"The difference between their opinions and
those contained in the said resolution is their
reason for entering this protest.
"DAN STONE,
"A. LINCOLN."