POLITICS AND STEAMBOATS
There was considerable local pride in the pioneer hamlet of New Salem,
and Abe Lincoln had entered into it with enthusiasm from the beginning
of his citizenship. While he was ever present at political meetings and
never silent, his opinion was that local needs were more pressing than
national questions.
There were several needs which he continually urged. As good roads were
at present out of the question he advocated river traffic. With boats
plying the Sangamon River, freight could be brought to their very door,
and the farmer's produce, on the sale of which depended the future of
the country, could be marketed at such a saving of time and money as
would make the difference between failure and success.
So clearly did the young politician set forth this need that he soon
had the majority of the men of the village of the same opinion. Another
matter which he considered of first importance was the education of all
children in free schools. This matter he also emphasized, showing in
his crude but effective way that the future of Democracy depends on
the education of the masses.
Having impressed his opinions on the men of the town their next
question was how to get these laws. The logical answer was, to elect to
their law-making body a representative of these views.
Then it was that the uncouth young backwoodsman, without a dollar in
the world and scarce a change of clothing to his back, was asked to
represent Sangamon County in the next Legislature.
He agreed to do so, and issued a circular addressed to the "People of
Sangamon County." In it he took up all the leading questions of the
day: railroads, river navigation, internal improvements, and usury. He
dwelled particularly on the matter of public education, alluding to it
as the most important subject before the people. The closing paragraph
was so constructed as to appeal to the chivalrous sentiments of Clary
Grove. "I was born and have ever remained," he said, "in the most
humble walks of life. I have no wealthy or popular relatives or friends
to recommend me. My case is thrown exclusively upon the independent
voters of the county; and if elected they will have conferred a
favor upon me for which I shall be unremitting in my labors to
compensate. But if," he concluded, "the people in their wisdom shall
see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with
disappointments to be very much chagrined."
A little after this the wonderful news was announced that a steamboat,
already on the Sangamon River, was to pass New Salem. The captain had
sent word that he wanted one of the representative men of the place
to help him bring the boat to the village. Abe Lincoln was the man
selected. A company of boys and young men also got together and with
long-handled axes set out on horseback to go along the bank ahead of
the boat and clear tree branches out of the way.
It was a time of great excitement and pregnant with meaning, for here
already were signs that Lincoln's dream of river traffic might be
brought to pass.
Hours before the appointed time the villagers were out, looking up at
the sun to count the passing of time, or gazing down the river between
the green branches. Speculation was rife, and there were those who
boldly declared they never expected to lay eyes on a real steamboat,
owing to their peculiar habit of blowing themselves up.
Almost to a minute of the announced time, as the sun stood, a shrill
whistle sounded over the woods and fields and river--a strange sound
for the quiet of the new country. Then came the distant shouts of
the branch-cutters as they came riding down the banks swinging their
long-handled axes.
Comment hushed to an occasional whisper as every head was turned and
every eye strained to catch a first glimpse of the first steamboat that
ever sailed the Sangamon.
Ann Rutledge was there. She was looking for a man as well as for a
boat--a man she had first seen scarce a year before. The plums had been
in blossom then. It was too early for them now. But she had her bonnet
ready to wave.
As the boat came in sight a great cheer went up from New Salem on
the bank. It was answered by the ringing voice of a man on board the
steamer, a taller man than any of the others, who waved his hat and
shouted across the water: "Hurrah for the Sangamon!" There were other
messages, and then a loud, long cheer from the bank: "Hurrah for Abe
Lincoln!"
The tree-cutters passed, singing and laughing. The boat steamed by
like a bird. The people waved. As the boat neared the bank where Ann
Rutledge and her mother and Mrs. Cameron and Nance stood, Abe Lincoln
lifted his hat and held it clear of his head, and Ann waved her bonnet
and laughed and sang a snatch of song.
As the boat passed from view the shrill whistle sounded several times.
Ann listened.
"Nance," she said, "I like the horn better than the whistle. The horn
has a gentleness, and it makes me think of plum blossoms. I would like
to hear it again, just as it sounded a year ago. The whistle--it is
hard--it sounds like blackberry briars."
Nance laughed. "But thorns go with blackberries," she said; "and travel
must have its thorns, too, if it keeps up with what Abe Lincoln calls
progress."
John McNeil joined the girls.
"Ann," he said, "you look very happy to-day."
"Yes," she replied, "I'm so glad about the steamboat."
"It's just about a year since Abe Lincoln first saw this town," he
observed.
"Yes--it was April 19th, last year."
"You remember the date well."
"That was the day I found the first plum blossoms."
"And you found them just in time to wave at Abe Lincoln."
"I was glad he got his boat off the mill dam."
"Ann, what do you suppose Abe Lincoln came to New Salem for?"
"Maybe the same thing you did, John."
"I came to make money, and I'm making it. He didn't come to make money.
He don't know how to make money and never will. Besides he gives away
all he does get hold of."
"How do you know?"
"I found out. And who do you suppose he gives it to?"
"I don't know."
"His step-mother--step-mother!" and there was a strange tone in his
voice whether of contempt or pity, Ann could not tell.
"Perhaps she is old and helpless," she said.
"Well, suppose she is, she's only his step-mother. If a man ever
expects to get ahead he must save his pennies and let them make other
pennies for him. That's the way to make money."
"I guess you know, John." Ann answered rather absently.