Judge H. W. Beckwith of Danville, Ill., said that soon after the Ottawa
debate between Lincoln and Douglas he passed the Chenery House, then
the principal hotel in Springfield. The lobby was crowded with partisan
leaders from various sections of the state, and Mr. Lincoln, from his
greater height, was seen above the surging mass that clung about him
like a swarm of bees to their ruler. The day was warm, and at the first
chance he broke away and came out for a little fresh air, wiping the
sweat from his face.
“As he passed the door he saw me,” said Judge Beckwith, “and, taking
my hand, inquired for the health and views of his ‘friends over in
Vermillion county.’ He was assured they were wide awake, and further
told that they looked forward to the debate between him and Senator
Douglas with deep concern. From the shadow that went quickly over his
face, the pained look that came to give way quickly to a blaze of eyes
and quiver of lips, I felt that Mr. Lincoln had gone beneath my mere
words and caught my inner and current fears as to the result. And then,
in a forgiving, jocular way peculiar to him, he said: ‘Sit down; I have
a moment to spare, and will tell you a story.’ Having been on his feet
for some time, he sat on the end of the stone step leading into the
hotel door, while I stood closely fronting him.
“‘You have,’ he continued, ‘seen two men about to fight?’
“‘Yes, many times.’
“‘Well, one of them brags about what he means to do. He jumps high in
the air, cracking his heels together, smites his fists, and wastes his
wreath trying to scare somebody. You see the other fellow, he says not
a word,’--here Mr. Lincoln’s voice and manner changed to great
earnestness, and repeating--‘you see the other man says not a word. His
arms are at his sides, his fists are closely doubled up, his head is
drawn to the shoulder, and his teeth are set firm together. He is saving
his wind for the fight, and as sure as it comes off he will win it, or
die a-trying.’”