I. HELPFULNESS AND KINDNESS OF A WORTH-WHILE CHARACTER
It would take a whole book to tell the stories of kindness and
sympathy told by those who were neighbors and friends of Lincoln. All
who knew him agree in saying how much he loved children and how
considerate he was for the comfort of others.
While living in the Rutledge tavern he often took upon himself all
kinds of discomforts to accommodate travellers. The Great Book says,
"He who loses his life for my sake shall find it." Lincoln seemed most
of the time to forget that he had any life of his own in trying to do
good to others. Many times he served ungrateful people, and many
persons mistreated him who mistook his kindness for servility, but
that didn't change Lincoln. He kept right on doing good to others,
until at last he lost his life, in the full meaning of that phrase,
but we may be sure that somewhere else he has found it.
If a traveller became stuck in the mud, literally or figuratively,
Lincoln always seemed to be the first to see his need. If widows and
orphans were suffering, he was the first to know it and relieve their
wants.
Deeds of kindness often look like "bread cast upon the waters," but we
are assured that such is not lost, for it "shall return after many
days."
The effective way in which Lincoln sometimes turned upon those who
"run him down" by sarcastic references to his poverty or looks is
illustrated by his reply to George Forquer. Lincoln was to make his
first speech in the Court House at Springfield, and he was to be
answered by Forquer, a rather aristocratic citizen of the town who had
been a Whig, but who had recently turned over to the Democrats and
received the appointment to an important office. Incidentally, he had
also put up a lightning rod to protect his rather showy house, and
this fact was quite well known, because it was the first lightning rod
to be put upon a house in that county.
Forquer rose to speak as Lincoln sat down, and his smile of derision
seemed to show that he expected to demolish with ridicule the
backwoodsman from New Salem.
Turning to Lincoln, he said, "The young man must be taken down, and I
am truly sorry that the task devolves upon me."
He was a witty and sarcastic speaker. He did not try to argue but
ridiculed Lincoln in the most offensive way. Lincoln's friends feared
for this onslaught, not knowing what Lincoln could say. But Lincoln
said it so effectively in a few words, as he always seemed able to do,
that his opponent lost and never recovered.
In closing a very short reply, Lincoln said, pointing his long,
accusing finger at Forquer in a scathing rebuke:
"Live long or die young, I would rather die now than, like this
gentleman, change my politics, and with the change receive an office
with a salary of three thousand dollars a year, and then feel obliged
to erect a lightning rod over my house to protect a guilty conscience
from the fear of an angry God."
II. THE LOVE OF FREEDOM AND TRUTH
Lincoln's fairness for all men, even when they were his opponents and
the enemies of his cause, may be seen in his defense of Colonel Baker.
There was a bitter political campaign in progress, and Colonel Baker
was making a speech to a rough crowd in the courthouse. This building
had been built to be a storehouse and directly over the speaker was a
loft with a stairway near the speaker's stand. Lincoln was sitting on
the platform above as a more convenient place to hear the speaker than
from the crowded floor below.
The speaker began to say things that annoyed the crowd. Suddenly the
yell was raised to take him off the stand and put him out. The crowd
surged forward when Lincoln's long legs were seen to swing over the
edge of the opening at the head of the stairs as if he had no time to
use the steps. He alighted on his feet by the speaker's side.
"Gentlemen," cried Lincoln as he raised his hand to stop the oncoming
rioters, "let us not disgrace the age and country in which we live.
This is a land where the freedom of speech is guaranteed. Mr. Baker
has a right to speak, and ought to be permitted to do so. I am here to
protect him, and no man shall take him from this stand if I can
prevent it."
The sudden appearance of this champion of human rights dropping down
from above so unexpectedly, his perfect calmness and fairness and the
well-known fact that he was no idle boaster, quieted the outbreak, and
Colonel Baker finished his address in peace.
Joshua Speed tells how Lincoln rode into Springfield on a borrowed
horse to attend his first session of the legislature with all his
earthly possessions packed into his saddle bags. Lincoln came into the
store owned by Speed and asked the price of a bedstead with its
equipment of bedding. The price was named, Lincoln said that was no
doubt cheap enough but that he could not buy it unless the storekeeper
could wait for part of the pay until the money was earned.
Speed was greatly impressed with the earnest young man. He offered to
share with him the room which he used over the store. He pointed to
the stairway leading up to the room.
Lincoln went up the stairs and in a moment appeared at the stairway
with beaming face.
"Well, Speed," he said, "I am moved."
Thus he made friends of all persons at once and they were not
fairweather friends, but lifetime friends.
The homely old copybook text so familiar to our grandmothers, "Beauty
is as beauty does," applies well to the appearance of Lincoln, and to
the first impressions received by those who saw him. Paraphrasing the
poet, "none knew him but to love him, none knew him but to praise." He
was like one transformed in the animation and zeal of expressing his
profound sentiments of freedom, humanity and truth.
One who knew Lincoln well says, "He was one of the homeliest men ever
seen when walking around, but while he was making a speech he was one
of the handsomest men I have ever known."
III. THE WIT-MAKERS AND THEIR WIT
Lincoln's quick wit never contained any sting and he lost no friends
by it. On one occasion several of his friends got into an argument
about the proper proportions of the body. They could agree on their
theories in all respects excepting the relative length of the legs.
Lincoln listened gravely to their arguments, and, as usual, some one
asked him his opinion.
"It is of course one of the most important of problems, and doubtless
was a source of great anxiety to the maker of man. But, after all is
said and done, it is my opinion that man's lower limbs, in order to
combine harmony and service, should be at least long enough to reach
from his body to the ground."
At another time a very unhandsome man stopped Lincoln and peered
offensively into his face.
"What seems to be the matter, my friend," inquired Lincoln.
"Well," replied the stranger, "I have always considered it my duty if
ever I came across a man uglier than myself to shoot him on the spot."
Lincoln took his hand in friendly agreement.
"Stranger, if this is really true, shoot me. If I thought I was uglier
than you, I'd want to die."
Senator Voorhees of Indiana said that he once heard Lincoln defeat a
windy little pettifogging lawyer by telling a story. After showing how
the fellow's arguments were only empty words, he said, "He can't help
it. When his oratory begins it exhausts all his force of mind. The
moment he begins to talk his mental operations cease. I never knew of
but one thing that was similar to my friend in that respect. Back in
the days when I was a keel boatman I became acquainted with a puffy
little steamboat, which used to bustle and wheeze its way up and down
the Sangamon River. It had a fivefoot boiler and a seven-foot whistle,
so that every time it whistled that boat stopped."
Even in business Lincoln could not refrain from expressing himself in
a humorous way. A New York firm wrote him to know the financial
reliability of one of their customers. He replied:
"I am well acquainted with your customer and know his
circumstances. First, he has a wife and baby: these ought to be
worth not less than $50,000 to any man. Secondly, he has an
office in which there is a table worth $1.50, and three chairs
at, say, $1.00.
"Last of all, there is in one corner a large rathole, which
will bear looking into.
"Respectfully,
"A. LINCOLN."
All the great contemporaries who heard Lincoln tell stories agree that
he never told one merely for the sake of the story or to raise a
laugh, but always to carry some useful point or impress an idea. The
aptness and wit of his stories often were more convincing than any
argument or logic. We may be assured that any other kind of a Lincoln
story is spurious, and none of his.
He had a case where two men had got into a fight. It was proven that
Lincoln's man had merely defended himself against the other's attack.
But the other attorney insisted that Lincoln's man could have defended
himself less violently.
Lincoln closed out the argument and won his case with a story.
"That reminds me," said Lincoln, "of the man who was attacked by a
farmer's dog. He defended himself so violently with a pitchfork that
he killed the dog.
"'What made you kill my dog?' demanded the angry farmer.
"'Because he tried to bite me,' replied the victim.
"'Well, why didn't you go at him with the other end of the pitchfork?'
persisted the farmer.
"'Well, I would,' replied the man, 'if he had come at me with the
other end of the dog.'"
IV. TURBULENT TIMES AND SOCIAL STORMS
One of the most singular, as well as undignified, experiences of
Lincoln is closely involved in the most important measures of his
life. This refers to the duel which he never fought with a man who was
a stormy disturber for many years in many exalted yet unbecoming
affairs.
In 1840 Lincoln became engaged to Miss Mary Todd of Lexington,
Kentucky, who was visiting her sister, Mrs. Ninian Edwards of
Springfield. She came of a noted and rather aristocratic family of
Kentucky. That two persons, so unlike in ancestry, in social
experience, and in education, should be attracted to each other has
seemed to be mystery enough to breed much speculation, a great number
of curious stories, and much ungracious comment.
Lincoln was aware of these differences as much as any one, and this,
if there were no other cause, would account for his seeming
uncertainties, his hesitation and the delays in his courting affairs
which have been the source of so much elaboration and explanation.
Lincoln had much social self-depreciation and he had a poetical fancy
idealizing his own sensitiveness toward women. It may well be
concluded that his judgment was helplessly unsettled from the
impossibility of any foresight in a matter of such vital
life-importance. The endless gossip that swarmed about Lincoln's love
affairs may well be dismissed as worthless in the presence of the
facts.
Lincoln married Mary Todd November 4, 1842. During the summer before,
in commercial and political affairs, there had arisen the greatest
dissatisfaction with the money-interests and currency of the state.
The current money had depreciated to half its value. Though the people
had to use that kind of money in all their transactions, the state
officers required their salaries to be paid in gold.
The auditor of the State was a young Irishman named James Shields. He
was exceedingly vain, pompous and of violent temper. Therefore, he
was a shining mark for the wit of those opposed to the present
management of the state.
In the "Sangamo Journal" there appeared an article of witty satire,
ridiculing Shields and the financial methods of his political
associates. It was signed, "Rebecca from Lost Townships."
Shields became furious and demanded to fight the man responsible for
it. The significance of this is rather in the peculiar popularity and
yet unpopularity of such a man as Shields. His reckless adventures,
his incessant boasting, and his whirlwind career of turmoil all loaded
him with praise and ridicule for many a year.
Shields went into the Mexican War and came out with his own brand of
glory. But it won popularity enough to make him Senator of the United
States. As an indication of his amazing character, he wrote a
preposterous letter to the man he defeated, declaring, that if Judge
Breese had not been defeated, Shields would have killed him.
It can be imagined what the fury of such a man must have been against
the "Rebecca" letters.
The next week another "Rebecca" letter appeared which was this time
unmistakably written by some mischief-loving woman. She offered to
settle the quarrel by marrying the aggrieved gentleman. This was too
much for Shields and he stormed the newspaper office to know whom he
should hold responsible for the "Rebecca letters."
V. THE FRONTIER "FIRE-EATER"
The public taste and the public requirements of its individuals
change, as all know, from generation to generation. The development of
Lincoln's life can be appreciated only as the community in which he
lived is understood. The public custom is necessary to explain
Lincoln's part in this peculiar episode.
The truth in this clownish affair was that Lincoln had written the
first letter, and two young ladies, one of them Mary Todd, were the
authors of the second letter. Mary Todd was at that time estranged
from Lincoln, and probably did not know that he was the writer of the
first "Rebecca Letter."
Shields sent his friend, General Whiteside, with a fiery demand to the
editor of the paper to know the authors of the "Rebecca letters." The
editor at once consulted Lincoln, who told the editor to tell General
Whitesides that Lincoln held himself responsible for the "Rebecca
letters."
Nothing suited Shields better. He began at once to make public the
most insulting letters to Lincoln and to issue the most fiery
challenges to a duel.
Though duelling was at that time forbidden by law, yet so strong was
public opinion that the one who refused to fight a duel was branded as
a coward and would not only lose his usefulness with the public, but
his opponent would thus gain corresponding prestige.
Lincoln so far conceded to this demand as to accept the challenge, but
on such terms as to make the battle ridiculous rather than heroic. He
had the right to choose the weapons and the conditions, so he chose
"cavalry broadswords of the largest size," and the fight was to be
"across a board platform six feet wide."
Lincoln felt keenly the stupidity of the whole affair, but it would be
degrading to his political standing to refuse. Fortunately, Lincoln
had a friend in Doctor Merryman, who was not only a witty writer, but
he loved a fight, and he used his wit with a fervor that overwhelmed
even such men as Shields and Whitesides in the final roundup.
However, the duel progressed so far that the parties thereto went to
Alton and crossed over to Missouri for the fight. But friends arrived
and persuaded Shields to withdraw the challenge. The next week Shields
wrote a bombastic article in the "Sangamo Journal" crowning himself
as a hero and Lincoln as a coward. Then Dr. Merryman came to the
rescue. The next week the "Sangamo Journal" had another version of the
now ridiculous duel. It showed up the Shields' side as so utterly
absurd that the humor and tragic aspect of the affair among such
prominent people became the sensation of the day. General Whitesides
challenged Doctor Merryman and Merryman responded, with the
declaration that his selection would be rifles at close range in the
nearby fields. This would not do, because duelists could not hold
office in Illinois and Whitesides was fund commissioner. His boasts
proved that he was not afraid to lose his life but he did not want to
give up his fat office.
The same thing happened to Shields. He challenged Mr. Butler, one of
Lincoln's close friends. Butler accepted at once, choosing "to fight
next morning at sunrise in Bob Allen's meadow, one hundred yards'
distance with rifles."
Shields declined.
It was a burlesque and a comedy farce, and so it ingloriously ended.
But Shields had no less singular luck than he had singular friends. He
was commissioned Brigadier-General in the Mexican War while still
holding a state office and before he had ever seen a day's service.
At Cerro-gordo he was wounded and that wound was doubtless what made
him United States Senator from Illinois. After serving one term in
constant commotion with his associates, he removed to Minnesota and
from there was returned to the Senate of the United States.
In the War of the Rebellion Lincoln appointed him Brigadier-General
and he was again wounded in battle when his troops defeated Stonewall
Jackson.
He moved into Missouri and from there was sent for the third time to
the United States Senate. A few years later he became the subject of
one of the bitterest and most disgraceful controversies in Congress
over the question of voting him money and a pension.
VI. HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE
Lincoln always seemed to be far more proud of his fist fight with Jack
Armstrong of the Clary gang than of his near-duel with Shields and his
political ring. He had many an occasion to refer to the Clary boys,
but never to the Shields crowd.
It was not Lincoln's disposition to have personal quarrels.
Only one other is known. He got into a verbal encounter with a man
named Anderson at Lawrenceville. Anderson wrote him a harsh note
demanding satisfaction.
Lincoln replied, "Your note of yesterday is received. In the
difficulty between us of which you speak you say you think I was the
aggressor. I do not think I was. You say my words 'imported insult.' I
meant them as a fair set-off to your own statements, and not
otherwise; and in that light alone I now wish you to understand them.
You ask for my 'present feelings on the subject.' I entertain no
unkind feeling toward you, and none of any sort upon the subject,
except a sincere regret that I permitted myself to get into such
altercation."
Mr. Anderson was "satisfied" and henceforth counted himself as one of
Lincoln's friends.
Another example shows Lincoln's idea of quarrels. It ought to be
impressed upon every boy's mind, as the belief of this great leader of
men.
In the midst of the war a young officer had been court-martialed for a
quarrel with one of his associates, and Lincoln had to give him an
official reprimand. It was as follows:
"The advice of a father to his son, 'Beware of entrance to a
quarrel, but, being in, bear it that the opposed may beware of thee!'
is good, but not the best. Quarrel not at all. No man resolved to make
the most of himself can spare time for personal contention. Still less
can he afford to take all the consequences, including the vitiating of
his temper, and the loss of self-control. Yield larger things to which
you can show no more than equal right; and yield lesser ones, though
clearly your own. Better give your path to a dog than to be bitten by
him in contesting for the right. Even killing the dog would not cure
the bite."
[Illustration: Lincoln and His Cabinet at the First Reading of the
Emancipation Proclamation.]
But the Shields' quarrel and its skyrocket burlesque had another
effect probably of priceless consequence to Lincoln. There was a
certain whole-souled, self-effacing championship in it of the two
girls who had written the last "Rebecca letter." Mary Todd appreciated
it, and she had to express her appreciation to the man whom she knew
loved her, but who feared that he could not make her happy. Merely to
be made happy is not all that a real woman of true womanhood is
concerned with in her choice of a husband. Doubtless, she saw in him
qualities to love rather than form or manners. She had abundance of
time to consider all things and we may well believe that she was wise
and good in her choice. Considering their differences, it is really a
great testimony and tribute to her that so little could ever be found
for cruel gossip about incompatibility and unhappiness in the Lincoln
household.
Mary Todd ignored the coldness that Lincoln's sensitiveness had
brought between them, in the mutual adjustment of courtship, and she
thanked him for keeping her out of the Shields' gossip and
controversy. The coldness disappeared and never returned. They were
married, and we must believe that humanity owes her a priceless debt,
that she was one of the three great souls who made the immortal man,
that together in glory are three great names, Nancy Hanks Lincoln,
Sarah Bush Lincoln and Mary Todd Lincoln.