[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN.]
The Backwoods Boy
OR
THE BOYHOOD AND MANHOOD OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
BY
HORATIO ALGER, JR.
AUTHOR OF
“Canal Boy to President,” “Farm Boy to Senator,” “Dean
Dunham,” etc., etc.
[Illustration: colophon]
PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER
610 South Washington Square
Copyright, 1883
By Horatio Alger, Jr.
The Backwoods Boy
PREFACE.
I venture to say that among our public men there is not one whose life
can be studied with more interest and profit by American youth than that
of Abraham Lincoln. It is not alone that, born in an humble cabin, he
reached the highest position accessible to an American, but especially
because in every position which he was called upon to fill, he did his
duty as he understood it, and freely sacrificed personal ease and
comfort in the service of the humblest. I have prepared the story of
Lincoln’s boyhood and manhood as a companion volume to the life of
Garfield, which I published two years since, under the title, “From
Canal Boy to President.” The cordial welcome which this received has
encouraged me to persevere in my plan of furnishing readers, young and
old, with readable lives of the greatest and best men in our history. I
can hardly hope at this late day to have contributed many new facts, or
found much new material. I have been able, however, through the kindness
of friends, to include some anecdotes not hitherto published. But for
the most part I have relied upon the well-known and valuable lives of
Lincoln by Dr. Holland and Ward H. Lamon. I also acknowledge, with
pleasure, my indebtedness to “Six Months in the White House,” by F. B.
Carpenter; Henry J. Raymond’s “History of Lincoln’s Administration,” and
the “Life of Lincoln,” by D. W. Bartlett. I commend, with confidence,
either or all of these works to those of my readers who may desire a
more thorough and exhaustive life of “The Backwoods Boy.”
Horatio Alger, Jr.
New York, _July 4, 1883_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I.--The Log-Cabin, 9
II.--The New Mother, 17
III.--Abe and his Family, 26
IV.--Abe’s Schooling, 34
V.--Abe and his Neighbors, 43
VI.--A River Trip, 51
VII.--Lincoln as a Clerk, 60
VIII.--In the Black Hawk Campaign, 69
IX.--In the Legislature, 78
X.--A Case in Court, 87
XI.--Mr. Lincoln forms two Partnerships, 96
XII.--The Lawyer in his Office and at Home, 105
XIII.--The Rail-Splitter enters Congress, 113
XIV.--The First Speech in Congress, 121
XV.--Mr. Lincoln’s Family, 136
XVI.--The Senatorial Campaign, 147
XVII.--The Two Giants, 155
XVIII.--Illinois declares for the Rail-Splitter, 164
XIX.--Nominated for President, 173
XX.--Farewell to Springfield, 183
XXI.--A Visit to Mr. Lincoln, 191
XXII.--The Inauguration, 198
XXIII.--The War Begins, 208
XXIV.--Mr. Lincoln in the White House, 217
XXV.--Mr. Lincoln and the little Boy--A Group of Incidents, 225
XXVI.--Mr. Lincoln’s Humanity, 237
XXVII.--Anecdotes of Mr. Lincoln, 246
XXVIII.--President Lincoln as a Religious Man, 256
XXIX.--Emancipating the Slaves, 264
XXX.--Elected for a Second Term, 269
XXXI.--The Speech at Gettysburg, 237
XXXII.--The Curtain Falls, 277
XXXIII.--Mr. Herndon’s Estimate of Mr. Lincoln, 285
XXXIV.--Mr. Lincoln’s Favorite Poem, 299
THE BACKWOODS BOY.
CHAPTER I.
THE LOG-CABIN.
Three children stood in front of a rough log-cabin in a small clearing
won from the surrounding forest. The country round about was wild and
desolate. Not far away was a vast expanse of forest, including oaks,
beeches, walnuts and the usual variety of forest trees.
We are in Indiana, and the patch of land on which the humble log-cabin
stood is between the forks of Big Pigeon and Little Pigeon Creeks, a
mile and a half east of Gentryville, a small village not then in
existence.
The oldest of the three children was Nancy Lincoln, about twelve years
old. Leaning against the cabin in a careless attitude was a tall,
spindling boy, thin-faced, and preternaturally grave, with a swarthy
complexion. He was barefoot and ragged; the legs of his pantaloons,
which were much too short, revealing the lower part of his long legs;
for in his boyhood, as in after days, he ran chiefly to legs.
Who in the wildest flight of a daring imagination would venture to
predict that this awkward, sad-faced, ragged boy would forty years later
sit in the chair of Washington, and become one of the rulers of the
earth? I know of nothing more wonderful in the Arabian Nights than this.
The second boy was a cousin of the other two children--Dennis Hanks,
who, after the death of his parents, had come to live in the Lincoln
household.
The sun was near its setting. It seemed already to have set, for it was
hidden by the forest trees behind which it had disappeared.
“Abe,” said the girl, addressing her brother, “do you think father will
be home to-night?”
“I reckon,” answered Abe laconically, shifting from one foot to the
other.
“I hope so,” said Dennis. “It’s lonesome stayin’ here by ourselves.”
“There some one comin’ with father,” said Nancy slowly. “We’re goin’ to
have a new mother. I hope we’ll like her.”
“It’ll seem good to have a woman in the house,” said Dennis. “It seems
lonesome-like where they’re all men.”
“I reckon you mean yourself and me,” said Abe smiling.
The boy’s grave, thin face brightened up as he said this in a humorous
tone.
“Then I ought to be considered a woman if you two are goin’ to set up as
men,” said Nancy. “But Dennis is right. It’ll be good for us if she’s
the right sort. Some step-mothers ain’t.”
“I reckon you’re right,” said Abe again.
“I’m afraid she won’t like the house,” said Nancy. “It ain’t as good as
it might be, though it’s better than the ‘camp’ we used to live in.”
As she spoke her eyes turned toward an even more primitive dwelling
forty yards away. It was known as “a half-faced camp,” and was merely a
cabin enclosed on three sides and open on the fourth; built not of logs,
but of poles. It was fourteen feet square, and without a floor. Here it
was that the elder Lincoln lived with his family when first he settled
down in the Indiana wilderness after his removal from Kentucky. The
present dwelling was an improvement on the first, but how far it was
from being comfortable may be judged from a description.
It was indeed a cabin, while the other had been only a camp, but it had
neither floor, door, nor window. There was a doorway for an entrance,
but there was nothing to keep out intruders. There was small temptation,
however, for the professional burglar. The possessions of the Lincolns
were altogether beneath the notice of even the poorest tramp. A few
three-legged stools served for chairs. In one corner of the cabin was an
extemporized bedstead made of poles stuck in the cracks of the logs,
while the other end rested in the crotch of a forked stick sunk in the
earthen floor. A bag of leaves covered with skins and old petticoats
rested on some boards laid over the poles. Here had slept the elder
Lincoln and his wife, while Abe laid himself down in the loft above. A
hewed puncheon supported by four legs served for a table. A few dishes
of pewter and tin completed the list of furniture.
This was the home to which Thomas Lincoln was bringing his new wife. She
was a widow from Elizabethtown in Kentucky, where he had formerly lived.
She was an old flame of Mr. Lincoln, but had rejected him, being able,
as she thought, to do better. But when within a few years he became a
widower and she a widow, the suit was renewed and the answer was
favorable.
Even now the married pair are on their way home.
Mrs. Johnston considered herself a poor widow, but she was much better
off than the man she had just married. She was the owner of a bureau
that cost forty dollars; this alone being a value far greater than her
new husband’s entire stock of furniture. Other articles, too, she had,
including a table, a set of chairs, a large clothes chest, cooking
utensils, knives, forks, bedding, and other articles.
“Look, Abe!” said Nancy in sudden excitement, pointing to an approaching
vehicle.
Abe followed the direction of his sister’s finger, and he opened his
eyes in astonishment. A large four-horse team was in sight--a strange
and unusual spectacle in that wilderness. The children could not have
been more excited if Barnum’s grand procession of circus chariots had
filed into view--a vision of Oriental splendor.
“There’s father!” exclaimed Abe, distinguishing with a boy’s keen vision
the well-known figure of his father sitting beside the driver.
“Father and Uncle Ralph,” corrected Nancy.
“And the team’s full of furniture. Can it be comin’ here?”
“I reckon your new mother’s aboard,” said Dennis.
This remark made the children thoughtful, because it recalled their own
sad-faced and gentle mother who had faded from life a year before and
gone uncomplainingly to her rest. Then, besides, the prospect of a
step-mother is apt to be disquieting when nothing is known of her
disposition or character.
“Is all that furniture comin’ here?” soliloquized Nancy wonderingly.
“I reckon so,” answered Abe.
When the team came nearer another exciting discovery was made. There
were others aboard the wagon besides their father, their new mother,
and their uncle Ralph Krame, who was the owner of the team. There were
two girls and a boy, children of Mrs. Lincoln by her former marriage.
They were not far from the same age as the three children who were
awaiting their arrival, but they were much better dressed. It was clear
that the log-cabin would no longer be lonely. It would be full and
running over. The six children and their parents were to be crowded into
it.
“That is my house, Sally,” said Thomas Lincoln, pointing out the cabin
in the woods to his new wife.
“That!” she exclaimed in dismay, for her new husband had led her to
expect that he was tolerably well-to-do, not with any intention to
deceive, but mainly because they had different standards of comfort.
We can imagine that the heart of the new wife must have sunk within her
as from the wagon she caught the first sight of her future home. She had
not been accustomed to luxury, but her old home was luxurious compared
with this.
She relapsed into silence, and did not choose to make her husband
uncomfortable by revealing the true state of her feelings. She seems to
have been a capable woman, and probably made up her mind upon the
instant to make “the best of it.” Besides, she had already caught sight
of the children.
“And those are Nancy and Abe?” she said.
“Yes,” answered Thomas Lincoln. “That’s Abe with the long legs, and the
other boy is his cousin Dennis.”
The new Mrs. Lincoln regarded with womanly compassion the three
neglected children, and in her heart she resolved to make their lot more
desirable. Perhaps the children read her face aright, for, as they
scanned her kindly face, all fear of the new step-mother disappeared,
and they responded shyly, but cordially, to her greeting.