In the year 1855 or ’56, George B. Lincoln, Esq., of Brooklyn, was
travelling through the West in connection with a large New York
dry-goods establishment. He found himself one night in an insignificant
town on the Illinois River, by the name of Naples. The only tavern of
the place had evidently been constructed with reference to business on
the smallest possible scale. Poor as the prospect seemed, Mr. Lincoln
had no alternative but to put up at the place. The supper-room was also
used as a lodging-room. After a tolerable supper and a comfortable
hour before the fire, Mr. L. told his host that he thought he would
“go to bed.” “Bed!” echoed the landlord; “there is no bed for you in
this house, unless you sleep with that man yonder. He has the only
one we have to spare.” “Well,” returned Mr. Lincoln, “the gentleman
has possession, and perhaps would not like a bedfellow.” Upon this,
a grizzly head appeared out of the pillows, and said, “What is your
name?” “They call me Lincoln at home,” was the reply. “Lincoln!”
repeated the stranger; “any connection of our Illinois Abraham?” “No,”
replied Mr. L., “I fear not.” “Well,” said the old man, “I will let
any man by the name of ‘Lincoln’ sleep with me, just for the sake of
the name. You have heard of Abe?” he inquired. “Oh yes, very often,”
replied Mr. Lincoln. “No man could travel far in this State without
hearing of _him_, and I would be very glad to claim connection, if I
could do so honestly.” “Well,” said the old gentleman, “my name is
Simmons. ‘Abe’ and I used to live and work together when we were young
men. Many a job of wood-cutting and rail-splitting have I done up with
him. Abe Lincoln,” said he with emphasis, “was the _likeliest_ boy in
God’s world. He would work all day as hard as any of us--and study by
firelight in the log-house half the night; and in this way he made
himself a thorough practical surveyor. Once, during those days, I was
in the upper part of the State, and I met General Ewing, whom President
Jackson had sent to the Northwest to make surveys. I told him about Abe
Lincoln, what a student he was, and that I wanted he should give him
a job; He looked over his memoranda, and, pulling out a paper, said:
‘There is ---- county must be surveyed; if your friend can do the work
properly, I shall be glad to have him undertake it--the compensation
will be six hundred dollars!’ Pleased as I could be, I hastened to Abe,
after I got home, with an account of what I had secured for him. He was
sitting before the fire in the log-cabin when I told him; and what do
you think was his answer? When I finished, he looked up very quietly,
and said, ‘Mr. Simmons, I thank you very sincerely for your kindness,
but I don’t think I will undertake the job.’ ‘In the name of wonder,’
said I, ‘why? Six hundred dollars does not grow upon every bush out
here in Illinois.’ ‘I know that,’ said Abe, ‘and I need the money bad
enough, Simmons, as you know; but I never have been under obligation to
a Democratic administration, and I never intend to be so long as I can
get my living another way. General Ewing must find another man to do
his work.’”
I related this story to the President one day, and asked him if it
was true. “Pollard Simmons!” said he: “well do I remember him. It
is correct about our working together; but the old man must have
stretched the facts somewhat about the survey of the county. I think
I should have been very glad of the job at that time, no matter
what administration was in power.” Notwithstanding this, however, I
am inclined to believe Mr. Simmons was not far out of the way. His
statement seems very characteristic of what Abraham Lincoln may be
supposed to have been at twenty-three or twenty-five years of age.
Mr. G. B. Lincoln also told me of an amusing circumstance which took
place at Springfield soon after Mr. Lincoln’s nomination in 1860. A
hatter in Brooklyn secretly obtained the size of the future President’s
head, and made for him a very elegant hat, which he sent by his
townsman, Lincoln, to Springfield. About the time it was presented,
various other testimonials of a similar character had come in from
different sections. Mr. Lincoln took the hat, and after admiring
its texture and workmanship, put it on his head and walked up to a
looking-glass. Glancing from the reflection to Mrs. Lincoln, he said,
with his peculiar twinkle of the eye, “Well, wife, there is one thing
likely to come out of this scrape, any how. We are going to have some
_new clothes_!”
One afternoon during the summer of 1862, the President accompanied
several gentlemen to the Washington Navy-yard, to witness some
experiments with a newly-invented gun. Subsequently the party went
aboard of one of the steamers lying at the wharf. A discussion was
going on as to the merits of the invention, in the midst of which
Mr. Lincoln caught sight of some _axes_ hanging up outside of the
cabin. Leaving the group, he quietly went forward, and taking one
down, returned with it, and said: “Gentlemen, you may talk about your
‘Raphael repeaters’ and ‘eleven-inch Dahlgrens;’ but _here_ is an
institution which I guess I understand better than either of you.” With
that he held the axe out at arm’s length by the end of the handle, or
“helve,” as the wood-cutters call it--a feat not another person of the
party could perform, though all made the attempt. In such acts as this,
showing that he neither forgot nor was ashamed of his humble origin,
the late President exhibited his true nobility of character. He was a
perfect illustration of his favorite poet’s words:--
“The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The man’s the gold, for a’ that!”