Thom-as Lin-coln, who was the fa-ther of A-bra-ham Lin-coln, had seen
a sad sight when he was but a boy of eight years; while he and his
brothers were hard at work with their fa-ther in the dense, wild woods
which grew close to their small home in Ken-tuck-y, an In-di-an chief
crept close to them; he fired one shot, and the boys saw their big,
strong fa-ther fall dead. They were brave boys, and while one ran for
help, the oth-ers kept at bay the In-di-ans who came from the woods. A
band of men soon came to their aid, and drove the fierce red men back to
the woods. It was a rough, hard life in which Thom-as Lin-coln grew up;
and he could not read or write when, at twen-ty years, he took as his
wife Miss Nan-cy Hanks; she was a bright girl and soon taught him at
least to write his name.
[Illustration: LINCOLN'S EARLY HOME.]
[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN.]
It was a poor log-house in Har-din Coun-ty, Ken-tuck-y, to which he
took his bride; and yet in this home so mean and small, was born, on
Feb-ru-a-ry 12th, 1809, the boy who was to be pres-i-dent of this great
land. Few boys and girls know what it is to be as poor as this lit-tle
boy was, or to lead as hard and sad a life. His clothes were thin and
poor, his shoes, when he had an-y, were oft-en full of holes; he did
not al-ways have as much as he would like to eat, and in the long, hard
win-ters he was oft-en ver-y cold. It was not an eas-y life, and it was
full of hard work, for peo-ple in this rough place could not read and
there were no schools; but when he was still a young boy his folks moved
to In-di-an-a, and though there was more work to be done, life was not
quite so sad, for he and his sis-ter Nan-cy now had a play-mate, their
cous-in, Den-nis Hanks, who was full of life and fun. "Abe," as folks
called him, was but eight years old when his par-ents went out into the
West to live, but he was so strong that he could help chop down the
trees of which the new home was made; then, too, he learned how to shoot
the game and wild fowl in the big woods, and so could bring good things
in-to the house to eat. But a dark time came in his life soon, for the
kind, good moth-er took sick and died. Her death was a great loss to
"Abe," and he felt much grief that there was no one to say a pray-er at
her grave; so he wrote to the min-is-ter in the old home in Ken-tuck-y,
and asked him if he would not come there and bless his moth-er's grave.
This good man came as soon as he could, but it was a long while af-ter
her death be-fore "Abe" had his wish. That win-ter was long and hard for
the poor lit-tle boy and girl with no moth-er to see that they were
warm, or that they had good food to eat; but in the fall of 1819, the
fa-ther brought home a new wife, Mrs. Sal-ly John-son and now at last a
ray of bright light came to stay with "Abe" and Nan-cy. The new moth-er
was a good, kind wo-man, and was quite rich for those days. She soon had
the home bright and neat; she put good warm clothes on "Abe" and Nan-cy;
saw that they had food to eat and at once sent them to school.
"Abe" was now e-lev-en years old, tall and big, and of more strength
than most boys of his age. His fa-ther hired him out for all sorts of
work; to pitch hay, to chop wood, to help on the farm; no work was too
hard for this big, strong boy; but, with all this work, he kept at his
books too. Late at night, while all the rest slept, he would stud-y his
books; and as books were few he read them ma-ny times o-ver; one of the
books he loved the most was the "Life of Wash-ing-ton."
He was a young man, for it was in March, 1828, that a chance came to him
to see more of life; he was hired to take a boat filled with skins down
the Mis-sis-sip-pi Riv-er to New Or-le-ans; he did this work well, and
when he came back was paid a good price for it. He was just of age when
his folks went to Il-li-nois to live; and now he helped build a home,
cleared a big field in which it stood, split rails to fence it in, and
then went off to make his own way in life.
The first thing he did was to help build a flat-boat and then take it
down to New Or-le-ans; when he came back the man who owned the boat gave
him a place in his store at New Sa-lem; and now he had a good chance to
get books to read; and you may be sure he was glad of this. He was soon
known in the place as a bright young man, and one who would not lie,
or steal, or do an-y mean thing; he was full of fun and jokes, and the
folks in the town were all fond of him; he was called "Hon-est Abe."
When the "Black Hawk War" broke out he went at the head of a small band
of men to the seat of war; he was in no great fight, but learned much of
war and how to rule the rough men who were in his care.
When he came home he was felt to be one of the first men in the town,
and in 1834 he took a high place in the state. He now took up the
stud-y of law, and was soon in ac-tive prac-tise; he had a good, kind
heart, and did much good to those who were too poor to pay him. In 1846
he was sent to Con-gress; this time he was there but one year; then came
back to Spring-field, Il-li-nois, and built up a fine law prac-tise. His
name was now known through all this great land; and in the slave strife
he was al-ways on the side of the slaves. He spoke so oft-en for the
slaves that in 1860, the South said if he was put up for pres-i-dent, by
the North and West, they would leave the Union. But he was just the man
to fill this high office at this time; and as he had the most votes he
took the of-fice of Pres-i-dent in 1861. There is a sto-ry told of these
days, which shows that Lin-coln, when a great man, had no shame for the
days when he was poor. Old John Hanks, who had helped him build that
rail fence so long a-go, came to Il-li-nois with two of those rails; and
on them was a big card which told where they came from, and who split
them. Lin-coln was just a-bout to make a speech to a big crowd; and
when he saw these rails he said that he had split them when a boy, but
thought he could do bet-ter now. Then shouts and cheers went up from the
crowd, you may be sure; and from that time Lin-coln was known in the
race for pres-i-dent as "The Rail Split-ter."
When he left his home to go to Wash-ing-ton, a great crowd came to see
him off, but he was so sad he could not say much to them. There were
plots to kill him at this time, and he knew it; but he gave no thought
to his own life, and went straight to his post of du-ty as Pres-i-dent.
It was with a sad heart that he saw this great land torn with war; and
he would have been glad to keep peace, but this he could not do. When
the South fired at the flag of the Un-ion at Fort Sum-ter, a cry went
up through the whole land. The South fought for what it called "States
Rights;" the right of each state to rule in its own way; but this
Lin-coln would not have. He cared more for the Un-ion than he did for
the slaves; for, though he thought all men should be free, he said,
if he could save the Un-ion, he did not care if not one slave was made
free; he had no wish to keep the South from its rights; but, at last, he
felt it wise to send out a bill, which said that all the slaves should
be free, and have the same rights as white men. This land was in no
state for war; much had to be done; clothes and food got for the troops;
and arms as well had to be made or bought at once. The first great fight
was at Bull Run in Vir-gin-i-a; and the loss of life on both sides was
great; the North lost from the first; men who had nev-er been in a fight
be-fore went mad with fear and ran for their lives. But at the fight at
Get-tys-burg the men of the North were brave and fought with such skill
that the great fight was won by the North.
Grant was put at the head of the troops who went down to free
Mis-sis-sip-pi; and it was not long be-fore he placed the Stars and
Stripes over this fair state. The South made a brave fight, for what it
thought was right and just; but as the war went on, the troops of the
South were in a bad state; they could get no food, no clothes, and so
ma-ny men had been shot that in the last years of the war young boys had
to help fill up the ranks. Now came Sher-man's march to the sea, and he
took Sa-van-nah and all its guns and stores. This was a great blow, and
now one by one the sea-ports of the South fell in-to the hands of the
North. At last Gen-er-al Lee, a great and good man of the South, sent
word to Grant that he would come to terms and make peace. Grant was
kind at this hard time; he let Lee keep his sword, and said that the men
might keep all their hors-es. It was in A-pril, 1865, that peace came
to our great land; and the North went mad with joys; bells pealed, and
fires blazed in the streets; flags were raised and guns were fired; but
in the South there was no joy; on-ly great grief.
From the grief of the South a great crime sprang; on the night of A-pril
14th, as Lin-coln sat in a box at the the-a-tre watch-ing a play he
was shot by a man from the South named Wilkes Booth. When he had shot
Lin-coln, this man sprang on the stage and tried to run from the place;
he fell and broke his leg; but in this state he got to the door, where
he jumped on his horse and fled for his life. He was found at last in a
barn, and made such a brave fight for his life that the barn had to be
set on fire be-fore he could be caught; e-ven then he would not come out
and give him-self up; but fought till he was shot down where he stood.
Lin-coln had been shot in the back of his head, and could not move or
speak;--men took him with care to a house near by, but there was no help
for him; and in the ear-ly morn of the next day a great life came to a
sad end. The whole land, the South as well as the North, wept at his
death; for no sane man felt that Booth's deed was wise or just; and to
this day the name of A-bra-ham Lin-coln, the "Sav-iour of his Coun-try,"
is held dear by North and South.