CHAPTER I.

A LAW office is a dull, dry place so far as pleasurable or interesting

incidents are concerned. If one is in search of stories of fraud,

deceit, cruelty, broken promises, blasted homes, there is no better

place to learn them than a law office. But to the majority of persons

these painful recitals are anything but attractive, and it is well

perhaps that it should be so. In the office, as in the court room,

Lincoln, when discussing any point, was never arbitrary or insinuating.

He was deferential, cool, patient, and respectful. When he reached the

office, about nine o'clock in the morning, the first thing he did was

to pick up a newspaper, spread himself out on an old sofa, one leg on a

chair, and read aloud, much to my discomfort. Singularly enough Lincoln

never read any other way but aloud. This habit used to annoy me almost

beyond the point of endurance. I once asked him why he did so. This was

his explanation: "When I read aloud two senses catch the idea: first,

I see what I read; second, I hear it, and therefore I can remember

it better." He never studied law books unless a case was on hand for

consideration--never followed up the decisions of the supreme courts, as

other lawyers did. It seemed as if he depended for his effectiveness in

managing a lawsuit entirely on the stimulus and inspiration of the final

hour. He paid but little attention to the fees and money matters of the

firm--usually leaving all such to me. He never entered an item in the

account book. If any one paid money to him which belonged to the firm,

on arriving at the office he divided it with me. If I was not there,

he would wrap up my share in a piece of paper and place it in my

drawer--marking it with a pencil, "Case of Roe vs. Doe.--Herndon's

half."

On many topics he was not a good conversationalist, because he felt that

he was not learned enough. Neither was he a good listener. Putting it a

little strongly, he was often not even polite. If present with others,

or participating in a conversation, he was rather abrupt, and in

his anxiety to say something apt or to illustrate the subject under

discussion, would burst in with a story. In our office I have known him

to consume the whole forenoon relating stories. If a man came to see him

for the purpose of finding out something which he did not care to let

him know and at the same time did not want to refuse him, he was very

adroit. In such cases Lincoln would do most of the talking, swinging

around what he suspected was the vital point, but never nearing it,

interlarding his answers with a seemingly endless supply of stories and

jokes. The interview being both interesting and pleasant, the man would

depart in good humor, believing he had accomplished his mission. After

he had walked away a few squares and had cooled off, the question

would come up, "Well, what did I find out?" Blowing away the froth of

Lincoln's humorous narratives he would find nothing substantial left.

"As he entered the trial," relates one of his colleagues at the bar,*

"where most lawyers would object he would say he 'reckoned' it would be

fair to let this in, or that; and sometimes, when his adversary could

not quite prove what Lincoln knew to be the truth, he 'reckoned' it

would be fair to admit the truth to be so-and-so. When he did object

to the court, and when he heard his objections answered, he would

often say, 'Well, I reckon I must be wrong.' Now, about the time he had

practised this three-fourths through the case, if his adversary didn't

understand him, he would wake up in a few minutes learning that he had

feared the Greeks too late, and find himself beaten. He was wise as a

serpent in the trial of a cause, but I have had too many scares from his

blows to certify that he was harmless as a dove. When the whole thing

was unravelled, the adversary would begin to see that what he was so

blandly giving away was simply what he couldn't get and keep. By giving

away six points and carrying the seventh he carried his case, and the

whole case hanging on the seventh, he traded away everything which would

give him the least aid in carrying that. Any man who took Lincoln for a

simple-minded man would very soon wake up with his back in a ditch."

* Leonard Swett.

Lincoln's restless ambition found its gratification only in the field

of politics. He used the law merely as a stepping-stone to what he

considered a more attractive condition in the political world. In the

allurements held out by the latter he seemed to be happy. Nothing in

Lincoln's life has provoked more discussion than the question of his

ability as a lawyer. I feel warranted in saying that he was at the same

time a very great and a very insignificant lawyer. Judge David Davis, in

his eulogy on Lincoln at Indianapolis, delivered at the meeting of the

bar there in May, 1865, said this: "In all the elements that constituted

a lawyer he had few equals. He was great at _nisi prius_ and before an

appellate tribunal. He seized the strong points of a cause and presented

them with clearness and great compactness. His mind was logical and

direct, and he did not indulge in extraneous discussion. Generalities

and platitudes had no charm for him. An unfailing vein of humor never

deserted him, and he was able to claim the attention of court and jury

when the cause was most uninteresting by the appropriateness of his

anecdotes. His power of comparison was large, and he rarely failed in

a legal discussion to use that mode of reasoning. The framework of his

mental and moral being was honesty, and a wrong case was poorly defended

by him. The ability which some eminent lawyers possess of explaining

away the bad points of a cause by ingenious sophistry was denied him. In

order to bring into full activity his great powers it was necessary that

he should be convinced of the right and justice of the matter which he

advocated. When so convinced, whether the cause was great or small he

was usually successful." *

* He never took advantage of a man's low character to

prejudice the jury. Mr. Lincoln thought his duty to his

client extended to what was honorable and high-minded, just

and noble--nothing further. Hence the meanest man at the bar

always paid great deference and respect to him.--David

Davis, Sept. 10, 1866, MS.

This statement of Judge Davis in general is correct, but in some

particulars is faulty. It was intended as a eulogy on Lincoln, and as

such would not admit of as many limitations and modifications as

if spoken under other circumstances. In 1866 Judge Davis said in a

statement made to me in his home at Bloomington, which I still have,

"Mr. Lincoln had no managing faculty nor organizing power; hence a child

could conform to the simple and technical rules, the means and the modes

of getting at justice, better than he. The law has its own rules, and

a student could get at them or keep with them better than Lincoln.

Sometimes he was forced to study these if he could not get the rubbish

of a case removed. But all the way through his lack of method and

organizing ability was clearly apparent." The idea that Mr. Lincoln was

a great lawyer in the higher courts and a good _nisi prius_ lawyer, and

yet that a child or student could manage a case in court better than he,

seems strangely inconsistent, but the facts of his life as a lawyer will

reconcile this and other apparent contradictions.

I was not only associated with Mr. Lincoln in Springfield, but was

frequently on the circuit with him, but of course not so much as Judge

Davis, who held the court, and whom Lincoln followed around on the

circuit for at least six months out of the year. I easily realized that

Lincoln was strikingly deficient in the technical rules of the law.

Although he was constantly reminding young legal aspirants to study and

"work, work," yet I doubt if he ever read a single elementary law book

through in his life. In fact, I may truthfully say, I never knew him to

read through a law book of any kind. Practically, he knew nothing of the

rules of evidence, of pleading, or practice, as laid down in the

text-books, and seemed to care nothing about them. He had a keen sense of

justice, and struggled for it, throwing aside forms, methods, and rules,

until it appeared pure as a ray of light flashing through a fog-bank. He

was not a general reader in any field of knowledge, but when he had

occasion to learn or investigate any subject he was thorough and

indefatigable in his search. He not only went to the root of a question,

but dug up the root, and separated and analyzed every fibre of it. He

was in every respect a case lawyer, never cramming himself on any

question till he had a case in which the question was involved. He

thought slowly and acted slowly; he must needs have time to analyze all

the facts in a case and wind them into a connected story. I have seen

him lose cases of the plainest justice, which the most inexperienced

member of the bar would have gained without effort. Two things were

essential to his success in managing a case. One was time; the other a

feeling of confidence in the justice of the cause he represented. He

used to say, "If I can free this case from technicalities and get it

properly swung to the jury, I'll win it." But if either of these

essentials were lacking, he was the weakest man at the bar. He was

greatest in my opinion as a lawyer in the Supreme Court of Illinois.

There the cases were never hurried. The attorneys generally prepared

their cases in the form of briefs, and the movements of the court and

counsel were so slow that no one need be caught by surprise. I was with

Lincoln once and listened to an oral argument by him in which he

rehearsed an extended history of the law. It was a carefully prepared

and masterly discourse, but, as I thought, entirely useless. After he

was through and we were walking home I asked him why he went so far back

in the history of the law. I presumed the court knew enough history.

"That's where you're mistaken," was his instant rejoinder. "I dared not

trust the case on the presumption that the court knows everything--in

fact I argued it on the presumption that the court didn't know

anything," a statement which, when one reviews the decision of our

appellate courts, is not so extravagant as one would at first suppose.

I used to grow restless at Lincoln's slow movements and speeches in

court. "Speak with more vim," I would frequently say, "and arouse the

jury--talk faster and keep them awake." In answer to such a suggestion

he one day made use of this illustration: "Give me your little

pen-knife, with its short blade, and hand me that old jack-knife, lying

on the table." Opening the blade of the pen-knife he said: "You see,

this blade at the point travels rapidly, but only through a small

portion of space till it stops; while the long blade of the jack-knife

moves no faster but through a much greater space than the small one.

Just so with the long, labored movements of my mind. I may not emit

ideas as rapidly as others, because I am compelled by nature to speak

slowly, but when I do throw off a thought it seems to me, though it

comes with some effort, it has force enough to cut its own way and

travel a greater distance." This was said to me when we were alone in

our office simply for illustration. It was not said boastingly.

As a specimen of Lincoln's method of reasoning I insert here the brief

or notes of an argument used by him in a lawsuit as late as 1858. I copy

from the original:

"Legislation and adjudication must follow and conform to the progress of

society.

"The progress of society now begins to produce cases of the transfer

for debts of the entire property of railroad corporations; and to enable

transferees to use and enjoy the transferred property legislation and

adjudication begin to be necessary.

"Shall this class of legislation just now beginning with us be general

or special?

"Section Ten of our Constitution requires that it should be general, if

possible, (Read the Section.)

"Special legislation always trenches upon the judicial department; and

in so far violates Section Two of the Constitution. (Read it.)

"Just reasoning--policy--is in favor of general legislation--else

the legislature will be loaded down with the investigation of smaller

cases--a work which the courts ought to perform, and can perform much

more perfectly. How can the Legislature rightly decide the facts between

P. & B. and S. C. & Co.

"It is said that under a general law, whenever a R. R. Co. gets tired

of its debts, it may transfer fraudulently to get rid of them. So they

may--so may individuals; and which--the Legislature or the courts--is

best suited to try the question of fraud in either case?

"It is said, if a purchaser have acquired legal rights, let him not be

robbed of them, but if he needs legislation let him submit to just terms

to obtain it.

"Let him, say we, have general law in advance (guarded in every possible

way against fraud), so that, when he acquires a legal right, he will

have no occasion to wait for additional legislation; and if he has

practiced fraud let the courts so decide."

David Davis said this of Lincoln: "When in a lawsuit he believed

his client was oppressed,--as in the Wright case,--he was hurtful

in denunciation. When he attacked meanness, fraud, or vice, he was

powerful, merciless in his castigation." The Wright case referred to was

a suit brought by Lincoln and myself to compel a pension agent to

refund a portion of a fee which he had withheld from the widow of a

revolutionary soldier. The entire pension was $400, of which sum the

agent had retained one-half. The pensioner, an old woman crippled and

bent with age, came hobbling into the office and told her story. It

stirred Lincoln up, and he walked over to the agent's office and made

a demand for a return of the money, but without success. Then suit

was brought. The day before the trial I hunted up for Lincoln, at his

request, a history of the Revolutionary War, of which he read a good

portion. He told me to remain during the trial until I had heard his

address to the jury. "For," said he, "I am going to skin Wright, and get

that money back." The only witness we introduced was the old lady, who

through her tears told her story. In his speech to the jury, Lincoln

recounted the causes leading to the outbreak of the Revolutionary

struggle, and then drew a vivid picture of the hardships of Valley

Forge, describing with minuteness the men, barefooted and with bleeding

feet, creeping over the ice. As he reached that point in his speech

wherein he narrated the hardened action of the defendant in fleecing

the old woman of her pension his eyes flashed, and throwing aside his

handkerchief, which he held in his right hand, he fairly launched

into him. His speech for the next five or ten minutes justified the

declaration of Davis, that he was "hurtful in denunciation and merciless

in castigation." There was no rule of court to restrain him in his

argument, and I never, either on the stump or on other occasions in

court, saw him so wrought up. Before he closed, he drew an ideal picture

of the plaintiff's husband, the deceased soldier, parting with his wife

at the threshold of their home, and kissing their little babe in

the cradle, as he started for the war. "Time rolls by," he said, in

conclusion; "the heroes of '76 have passed away and are encamped on the

other shore. The soldier has gone to rest, and now, crippled, blinded,

and broken, his widow comes to you and to me, gentlemen of the jury,

to right her wrongs. She was not always thus. She was once a beautiful

young woman. Her step was as elastic, her face as fair, and her voice as

sweet as any that rang in the mountains of old Virginia. But now she

is poor and defenceless. Out here on the prairies of Illinois, many

hundreds of miles away from the scenes of her childhood, she appeals

to us, who enjoy the privileges achieved for us by the patriots of the

Revolution, for our sympathetic aid and manly protection. All I ask is,

shall we befriend her?" The speech made the desired impression on the

jury. Half of them were in tears, while the defendant sat in the

court room, drawn up and writhing under the fire of Lincoln's fierce

invective. The jury returned a verdict in our favor for every cent we

demanded. Lincoln was so much interested in the old lady that he became

her surety for costs, paid her way home, and her hotel bill while she

was in Springfield. When the judgment was paid we remitted the proceeds

to her and made no charge for our services. Lincoln's notes for

the argument were unique: "No contract.--Not professional

services.--Unreasonable charge.--Money retained by Deft not

given by Pl'ff.--Revolutionary War.--Describe Valley Forge

privations.--Ice--Soldier's bleeding feet.--Pl'ffs husband.--Soldier

leaving home for army.--Skin Def t.--Close." It must not be inferred

from this that Lincoln was in the habit of slopping over. He never

hunted up acts of injustice, but if they came to him he was easily

enlisted. In 1855 he was attending court at the town of Clinton,

Illinois. Fifteen ladies from a neighboring village in the county had

been indicted for trespass. Their offence consisted in sweeping down on

one Tanner, the keeper of a saloon in the village, and knocking in the

heads of his barrels. Lincoln was not employed in the case, but sat

watching the trial as it proceeded. In defending the ladies their

attorney seemed to evince a little want of tact, and this prompted one

of the former to invite Mr. Lincoln to add a few words to the jury, if

he thought he could aid their cause. He was too gallant to refuse and,

their attorney having consented, he made use of the following argument:

"In this case I would change the order of indictment and have it read

The State vs. Mr. Whiskey, instead of The State vs. The Ladies; and

touching these there are three laws: The law of self-protection; the law

of the land, or statute law; and the moral law, or law of God. First,

the law of self-protection is a law of necessity, as evinced by our

forefathers in casting the tea overboard and asserting their right to

the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness. In this case it is the only

defense the ladies have, for Tanner neither feared God nor regarded man.

Second, the law of the land, or statute law, and Tanner is recreant to

both. Third, the moral law, or law of God, and this is probably a law

for the violation of which the jury can fix no punishment." Lincoln

gave some of his own observations on the ruinous effects of whiskey in

society, and demanded its early suppression. After he had concluded, the

Court, without awaiting the return of the jury, dismissed the ladies,

saying: "Ladies, go home. I will require no bond of you, and if any fine

is ever wanted of you, we will let you know."

After Lincoln's death a fellow-lawyer paid this tribute to him:* "He

was wonderfully kind, careful, and just. He had an immense stock

of common-sense, and he had faith enough in it to trust it in every

emergency. Mr. Lincoln's love of justice and fair-play was his

predominating trait. I have often listened to him when I thought he

would certainly state his case out of court. It was not in his nature to

assume or attempt to bolster up a false position.** He would abandon his

case first.

* Joseph Gillespie, MS., Letter, Oct. 8, 1886.

** "Early in 1858 at Danville, Ill., I met Lincoln, Swett,

and others who had returned from court in an adjoining

county, and were discussing the various features of a murder

trial in which Lincoln had made a vigorous fight for the

prosecution and Swett had defended. The plea of the defense

was insanity. On inquiring the name of the defendant I was

surprised to learn that it was my old friend Isaac Wyant,

formerly of Indiana. I told them that I had been Wyant's

counsel frequently and had defended him from almost every

charge in the calendar of crimes; and that he was a weak

brother and could be led into almost everything. At once

Lincoln began to manifest great interest in Wyant's history,

and had to be told all about him. The next day on the way to

the court house he told me he had been greatly troubled over

what I related about Wyant; that his sleep had been

disturbed by the fear that he had been too bitter and

unrelenting in his prosecution of him. "I acted," he said,

"on the theory that he was 'possuming insanity, and now I

fear I have been too severe and that the poor fellow may be

insane after all. If he cannot realize the wrong of his

crime, then I was wrong in aiding to punish him.'"--Hon.

Joseph E. McDonald, August, 1888. Statement to J. W. W.

He did so in the case of Buckmaster for the use of Dedham vs. Beems and

Arthur, in our Supreme Court, in which I happened to be opposed to him.

Another gentleman, less fastidious, took Mr. Lincoln's place and gained

the case."

A widow who owned a piece of valuable land employed Lincoln and myself

to examine the title to the property, with the view of ascertaining

whether certain alleged tax liens were just or not. In tracing back the

title we were not satisfied with the description of the ground in one

of the deeds of conveyance. Lincoln, to settle the matter, took his

surveying instruments and surveyed the ground himself. The result proved

that Charles Matheney, a former grantor, had sold the land at so much

per acre, but that in describing it he had made an error and conveyed

more land than he received pay for. This land descended to our client,

and Lincoln after a careful survey and calculation, decided that she

ought to pay to Matheney's heirs the sum which he had shown was due them

by reason of the erroneous conveyance. To this she entered strenuous

objections, but when assured that unless she consented to this act of

plain justice we would drop the case, she finally, though with great

reluctance, consented. She paid the required amount, and this we divided

up into smaller sums proportioned to the number of heirs. Lincoln

himself distributed these to the heirs, obtaining a receipt from each

one.*

* "Dear Herndon:

"One morning, not long before Lincoln's nomination--a year

perhaps--I was in your office and heard the following! Mr.

Lincoln, seated at the baize-covered table in the center of

the office, listened attentively to a man who talked

earnestly and in a low tone. After being thus engaged for

some time Lincoln at length broke in, and I shall never

forget his reply. 'Yes,' he said, 'we can doubtless gain

your case for you; we can set a whole neighborhood at

loggerheads; we can distress a widowed mother and her six

fatherless children and thereby get for you six hundred

dollars to which you seem to have a legal claim, but which

rightfully belongs, it appears to me, as much to the woman

and her children as it does to you. You must remember that

somethings legally right are not morally right. We shall not

take your case, but will give you a little advice for which

we will charge you nothing. You seem to be a sprightly,

energetic man; we would advise you to try your hand at

making six hundred dollars in some other way.'

"Yours,

"Lord."

From undated MS., about 1866.

While Mr. Lincoln was no financier and had no propensity to acquire

property,--no avarice of the get,--yet he had the capacity of retention,

or the avarice of the keep. He never speculated in lands or anything

else. In the days of land offices and "choice lots in a growing town" he

had many opportunities to make safe ventures promising good returns, but

he never availed himself of them. His brother lawyers were making good

investments and lucky turns, some of them, Davis, for example, were

rapidly becoming wealthy; but Lincoln cared nothing for speculation; in

fact there was no ventursome spirit in him. His habits were very simple.

He was not fastidious as to food or dress. His hat was brown, faded, and

the nap usually worn or rubbed off. He wore a short cloak and sometimes

a shawl. His coat and vest hung loosely on his gaunt frame, and his

trousers were invariably too short. On the circuit he carried in one

hand a faded green umbrella, with "A. Lincoln" in large white cotton or

muslin letters sewed on the inside. The knob was gone from the handle,

and when closed a piece of cord was usually tied around it in the middle

to keep it from flying open. In the other hand he carried a literal

carpet-bag, in which were stored the few papers to be used in court, and

underclothing enough to last till his return to Springfield. He slept in

a long, coarse, yellow flannel shirt, which reached half-way between

his knees and ankles. It probably was not made to fit his bony figure as

completely as Beau Brummers shirt, and hence we can somewhat appreciate

the sensation of a young lawyer who, on seeing him thus arrayed for the

first time, observed afterwards that, "He was the ungodliest figure I

ever saw."

"He never complained of the food, bed, or lodgings. If every other

fellow grumbled at the bill-of-fare which greeted us at many of the

dingy taverns," says David Davis, "Lincoln said nothing." He was once

presiding as judge in the absence of Davis, and the case before him was

an action brought by a merchant against the father of a minor son for

a suit of clothes sold to the son without parental authority. The real

question was whether the clothes were necessary, and suited to the

condition of the son's life. The father was a wealthy farmer; the bill

for the clothing was twenty-eight dollars. I happened in court just

as Lincoln was rendering his decision. He ruled against the plea of

necessity. "I have rarely in my life," said he, "worn a suit of clothes

costing twenty-eight dollars."

* H. C. Whitney, MS., letter, Nov. 13, 1865.

"Several of us lawyers," remarked one of his colleagues, "in the eastern

end of the circuit annoyed Lincoln once while he was holding court for

Davis by attempting to defend against a note to which there were many

makers. We had no legal, but a good moral defense, but what we wanted

most of all was to stave it off till the next term of court by one

expedient or another. We bothered "the court" about it till late on

Saturday, the day of adjournment. He adjourned for supper with nothing

left but this case to dispose of. After supper he heard our twaddle for

nearly an hour, and then made this odd entry: 'L. D. Chaddon _vs_. J.

D. Beasley _et al._ April Term, 1856. Champaign County Court. Plea in

abatement by B. Z. Green, a defendant not served, filed Saturday at

11 o'clock A. M., April 24, 1856, stricken from the files by order

of court. Demurrer to declaration, if there ever was one, overruled.

Defendants who are served now, at 8 o'clock, P. M., of the last day of

the term, ask to plead to the merits, which is denied by the court on

the ground that the offer comes too late, and therefore, as by _nil

dicet_, judgment is rendered for Pl'ff. Clerk assess damages. A.

Lincoln, Judge _pro tem_."' The lawyer who reads this singular entry

will appreciate its oddity if no one else does. After making it one of

the lawyers, on recovering his astonishment, ventured to enquire,

"Well, Lincoln, how can we get this case up again?" Lincoln eyed him

quizzically a moment, and then answered, "You have all been so

'mighty smart about this case you can find out how to take it up again

yourselves."*

* "During my first attendance at court in Menard County,"

relates a lawyer who travelled the circuit with Lincoln,

"some thirty young men had been indicted for playing cards,

and Lincoln and I were employed in their defense. The

prosecuting attorney, in framing the indictments,

alternately charged the defendants with playing a certain

game of cards called 'seven-up,' and in the next bill

charged them with playing cards at a certain game called

'old sledge.' Four defendants were indicted in each bill.

The prosecutor, being entirely unacquainted with games at

cards, did not know the fact that both 'seven-up' and 'old

sledge' were one and the same. Upon the trial on the bills

describing the game as 'seven-up' our witnesses would swear

that the game played was 'old sledge,' and vice versa on the

bills alleging the latter. The result was an acquittal in

every case under the instructions of the Court. The

prosecutor never found out the dodge until the trials were

over, and immense fun and rejoicing were indulged in at the

result."

The same gentleman who furnishes this last incident, and who was

afterward a trusted friend of Mr. Lincoln, Henry C. Whitney, has

described most happily the delights of a life on the circuit. A bit of

it, referring to Lincoln, I apprehend, cannot be deemed out of place

here. "In October, 1854, Abraham Lincoln," he relates, "drove into

our town (Urbana) to attend court. He had the appearance of a rough,

intelligent farmer, and his rude, homemade buggy and raw-boned horse

enforced this belief. I had met him for the first time in June of the

same year. David Davis and Leonard Swett had just preceded him. The next

morning he started North, on the Illinois Central Railroad, and as he

went in an old omnibus he played on a boy's harp all the way to the

depot. I used to attend the Danville court, and while there, usually

roomed with Lincoln and Davis. We stopped at McCormick's hotel,

an old-fashioned frame country tavern. Jurors, counsel, prisoners,

everybody ate at a long table. The judge, Lincoln, and I had the

ladies' parlor fitted up with two beds. Lincoln, Swett, McWilliams,

of Bloomington, Voorhees, of Covington, Ind., O. L. Davis, Drake, Ward

Lamon, Lawrence, Beckwith, and O. F. Harmon, of Danville, Whiteman, of

Iroquois County, and Chandler, of Williamsport, Ind., constituted the

bar. Lincoln, Davis, Swett, I, and others who came from the western part

of the state would drive from Urbana. The distance was thirty-six miles.

We sang and exchanged stories all the way. We had no hesitation in

stopping at a farm-house and ordering them to kill and cook a chicken

for dinner. By dark we reached Danville. Lamon would have whiskey in his

office for the drinking ones, and those who indulged in petty gambling

would get by themselves and play till late in the night. Lincoln, Davis,

and a few local wits would spend the evening in Davis's room, talking

politics, wisdom, and fun. Lincoln and Swett were the great lawyers, and

Lincoln always wanted Swett in jury cases. We who stopped at the hotel

would all breakfast together and frequently go out into the woods and

hold court. We were of more consequence than a court and bar is now. The

feelings were those of great fraternity in the bar, and if we desired

to restrict our circle it was no trouble for Davis to freeze out any

disagreeable persons. Lincoln was fond of going all by himself to any

little show or concert. I have known him to slip away and spend the

entire evening at a little magic lantern show intended for children.

A travelling concert company, calling themselves the 'Newhall Family,'

were sure of drawing Lincoln. One of their number, Mrs. Hillis, a good

singer, he used to tell us was the only woman who ever seemed to exhibit

any liking for him. I attended a negro-minstrel show in Chicago, where

we heard Dixie sung. It was entirely new, and pleased him greatly. In

court he was irrepressible and apparently inexhaustible in his fund

of stories. Where in the world a man who had travelled so little and

struggled amid the restrictions of such limited surroundings could

gather up such apt and unique yarns we never could guess. Davis

appreciated Lincoln's talent in this direction, and was always ready to

stop business to hear one of his stories. Lincoln was very bashful when

in the presence of ladies. I remember once we were invited to take tea

at a friend's house, and while in the parlor I was called to the front

gate to see a client. When I returned, Lincoln, who had undertaken to

entertain the ladies, was twisting and squirming in his chair, and as

bashful as a schoolboy. Everywhere, though we met a hard crowd at every

court, and though things were free and easy, we were treated with great

respect." Probably the most important lawsuit Lincoln and I conducted

was one in which we defended the Illinois Central Railroad in an action

brought by McLean County, Illinois, in August, 1853, to recover taxes

alleged to be due the county from the road. The Legislature had granted

the road immunity from taxation, and this was a case intended to test

the constitutionality of the law. The road sent a retainer fee of $250.

In the lower court the case was decided in favor of the railroad. An

appeal to the Supreme Court followed, and there it was argued twice, and

finally decided in our favor. This last decision was rendered some time

in 1855. Mr. Lincoln soon went to Chicago and presented our bill for

legal services. We only asked for $2000 more. The official to whom

he was referred,--supposed to have been the superintendent George B.

McClellan who afterwards became the eminent general,--looking at the

bill expressed great surprise. "Why, sir," he exclaimed, "this is as

much as Daniel Webster himself would have charged. We cannot allow such

a claim." Stung by the rebuff, Lincoln withdrew the bill, and started

for home. On the way he stopped at Bloomington. There he met Grant

Goodrich, Archibald Williams, Norman B. Judd, O. H. Browning, and other

attorneys, who, on learning of his modest charge for such valuable

services rendered the railroad, induced him to increase the demand to

$5000, and to bring suit for that sum. This was done at once. On the

trial six lawyers certified that the bill was reasonable, and judgment

for that sum went by default. The judgment was promptly paid.

Lincoln gave me my half, and much as we deprecated the avarice of great

corporations, we both thanked the Lord for letting the Illinois Central

Railroad fall into our hands.

In the summer of 1857 Lincoln was employed by Mr. Manny, of Rockford,

Ill., to defend him in an action brought by McCormick,* who was one

of the inventors of the reaping machine, for infringement of patent.

Lincoln had been recommended to Manny by E. B. Washburne, then a member

of Congress from northern Illinois. The case was to be tried before

Judge McLean at Cincinnati, in the Circuit Court of the United States.

The counsel for McCormick was Reverdy Johnson. Edwin M. Stanton and

George Harding, of Philadelphia, were associated on the other side with

Lincoln. The latter came to Cincinnati a few days before the argument

took place, and stopped at the house of a friend. "The case was one of

great importance pecuniarily," relates a lawyer** in Cincinnati, who

was a member of the bar at the time, "and in the law questions involved.

Reverdy Johnson represented the plaintiff. Mr. Lincoln had prepared

himself with the greatest care; his ambition was up to speak in the case

and to measure swords with the renowned lawyer from Baltimore. It was

understood between his client and himself before his coming that Mr.

Harding, of Philadelphia, was to be associated with him in the case, and

was to make the 'mechanical argument.'

* The case, McCormick vs. Manny, is reported in 6 McLean's

Rep., P. 539.

** W. M. Dickson.

After reaching Cincinnati, Mr. Lincoln was a little surprised and

annoyed to learn that his client had also associated with him Mr.

Edwin M. Stanton, of Pittsburg, and a lawyer of our own bar, the reason

assigned being that the importance of the case required a man of the

experience and power of Mr. Stanton to meet Mr. Johnson. The Cincinnati

lawyer was appointed for his 'local influence.' These reasons did not

remove the slight conveyed in the employment without consultation with

him of this additional counsel. He keenly felt it, but acquiesced. The

trial of the case came on; the counsel for defense met each morning for

consultation. On one of these occasions one of the counsel moved

that only two of them should speak in the case. This matter was also

acquiesced in. It had always been understood that Mr. Harding was to

speak to explain the mechanism of the reapers. So this motion excluded

either Mr. Lincoln or Mr. Stanton,--which? By the custom of the bar, as

between counsel of equal standing, and in the absence of any action of

the client, the original counsel speaks. By this rule Mr. Lincoln had

precedence. Mr. Stanton suggested to Mr. Lincoln to make the speech. Mr.

Lincoln answered, 'No, you speak.' Mr. Stanton replied, 'I will,' and

taking up his hat, said he would go and make preparation. Mr. Lincoln

acquiesced in this, but was greatly grieved and mortified; he took but

little more interest in the case, though remaining until the conclusion

of the trial. He seemed to be greatly depressed, and gave evidence of

that tendency to melancholy which so marked his character. His parting

on leaving the city cannot be forgotten. Cordially' shaking the hand of

his hostess he said: 'You have made my stay here most agreeable, and I

am a thousand times obliged to you; but in reply to your request for

me to come again, I must say to you I never expect to be in Cincinnati

again. I have nothing against the city, but things have so happened

here as to make it undesirable for me ever to return.' Lincoln felt that

Stanton had not only been very discourteous to him, but had purposely

ignored him in the case, and that he had received rather rude, if not

unkind, treatment from all hands. Stanton, in his brusque and abrupt

way, it is said, described him as a 'long, lank creature from Illinois,

wearing a dirty linen duster for a coat, on the back of which the

perspiration had splotched wide stains that resembled a map of the

continent. Mr. Lincoln," adds Mr. Dickson, "remained in Cincinnati about

a week, moving freely around, yet not twenty men knew him personally or

knew he was here; not a hundred would have known who he was had his

name been given to them. He came with the fond hope of making fame in a

forensic contest with Reverdy Johnson. He was pushed aside, humiliated

and mortified. He attached to the innocent city the displeasure that

filled his bosom, and shook its dust from his feet." On his return to

Springfield he was somewhat reticent regarding the trial, and, contrary

to his custom, communicated to his associates at the bar but few of its

incidents. He told me that he had been "roughly handled by that man

Stanton"; that he overheard the latter from an adjoining room, while the

door was slightly ajar, referring to Lincoln, inquire of another, "Where

did that long-armed creature come from, and what can he expect to do in

this case?" During the trial Lincoln formed a poor opinion of Judge

McLean. He characterized him as an "old granny," with considerable vigor

of mind, but no perception at all. "If you were to point your finger at

him," he put it, "and a darning needle at the same time he never would

know which was the sharpest."

As Lincoln grew into public favor and achieved such marked success in

the profession, half the bar of Springfield began to be envious of his

growing popularity. I believe there is less jealousy and bitter feeling

among lawyers than professional men of any other class; but it should

be borne in mind that in that early day a portion of the bar in

every county seat, if not a majority of the lawyers everywhere, were

politicians. Stuart frequently differed from Lincoln on political

questions, and was full of envy. Likewise those who coincided with

Lincoln in his political views were disturbed in the same way. Even

Logan was not wholly free from the degrading passion. But in this

respect Lincoln suffered no more than other great characters who

preceded him in the world's history.

That which Lincoln's adversaries in a lawsuit feared most of all was

his apparent disregard of custom or professional propriety in managing a

case before a jury. He brushed aside all rules, and very often resorted

to some strange and strategic performance which invariably broke his

opponent down or exercised some peculiar influence over the jury. Hence

the other side in a case were in constant fear of one of his dramatic

strokes, or trembled lest he should "ring in" some ingeniously planned

interruption not on the programme. In a case where Judge Logan--always

earnest and grave--opposed him, Lincoln created no little merriment

by his reference to Logan's style of dress. He carried the surprise

in store for the latter, till he reached his turn before the jury.

Addressing them, he said: "Gentlemen, you must be careful and not permit

yourselves to be overcome by the eloquence of counsel for the defense.

Judge Logan, I know, is an effective lawyer. I have met him too often to

doubt that; but shrewd and careful though he be, still he is sometimes

wrong. Since this trial has begun I have discovered that, with all his

caution and fastidiousness, he hasn't knowledge enough to put his shirt

on right." Logan turned red as crimson, but sure enough, Lincoln was

correct, for the former had donned a new shirt, and by mistake had drawn

it over his head with the pleated bosom behind. The general laugh which

followed destroyed the effect of Logan's eloquence over the jury--the

very point at which Lincoln aimed.

The trial of William Armstrong* for the murder of James P. Metzger,

in May, 1858, at Beardstown, Illinois, in which Lincoln secured the

acquittal of the defendant, was one of the gratifying triumphs in his

career as a lawyer.

* This incident in Lincoln's career has been most happily

utilized by Dr. Edward Eggleston in his story "The

Graysons," recently published in the Century Magazine.

Lincoln's defense, wherein he floored the principal prosecuting witness,

who had testified positively to seeing the fatal blow struck in the

moonlight, by showing from an almanac that the moon had set, was

not more convincing than his eloquent and irresistible appeal in his

client's favor. The latter's mother, old Hannah Armstrong, the friend

of his youth, had solicited him to defend her son. "He told the jury,"

relates the prosecuting attorney, "of his once being a poor, friendless

boy; that Armstrong's parents took him into their house, fed and clothed

him, and gave him a home. There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. The

sight of his tall, quivering frame, and the particulars of the story he

so pathetically told, moved the jury to tears also, and they forgot the

guilt of the defendant in their admiration of his advocate. It was the

most touching scene I ever witnessed."*

* J. Henry Shaw, letter, Aug. 22, 1866, MS.

Before passing it may be well to listen to the humble tribute of old

Hannah Armstrong, the defendant's mother: "Lincoln had said to

me, 'Hannah, your son will be cleared before sundown.' I left the

court-room, and they came and told me that my son was cleared and a free

man. I went up to the court-house. The jury shook hands with me; so did

the judge and Lincoln; tears streamed down Lincoln's eyes.... After

the trial I asked him what his fee would be; told him I was poor. 'Why,

Hannah,' he said, 'I sha'n't charge you a cent, and anything else I

can do for you, will do it willingly and without charge.' He afterwards

wrote to me about a piece of land which certain men were trying to get

from me, and said: 'Hannah, they can't get your land. Let them try it in

the Circuit Court, and then you appeal it; bring it to the Supreme Court

and I and Herndon will attend to it for nothing.'" *

The last suit of any importance in which Lincoln was personally engaged,

was known as the Johnson sand-bar case. It involved the title to certain

lands, the accretion on the shores of Lake Michigan, in or near Chicago.

It was tried in the United States Circuit Court at Chicago in April

and May, 1860. During the trial, the Court--Judge Drummond--and all

the counsel on both sides dined at the residence of Isaac N. Arnold,

afterwards a member of Congress. "Douglas and Lincoln," relates Mr.

Arnold, "were at the time both candidates for the nomination for

President. There were active and ardent political friends of each at the

table, and when the sentiment was proposed, 'May Illinois furnish the

next President,' it was drank with enthusiasm by the friends of both

Lincoln and Douglas."**

* From statement, Nov. 24, 1865.

** Arnold's "Lincoln," p. 90.

I could fill this volume with reminiscences of Lincoln's career as a

lawyer, but lest the reader should tire of what must savor in many cases

of monotony it is best to move on. I have made this portion of the book

rather full; but as Lincoln's individuality and peculiarities were more

marked in the law office and court-room than anywhere else it will play

its part in making up the picture of the man. Enough has been told to

show how, in the face of adverse fortune and the lack of early training,

and by force of his indomitable will and self-confidence, he gained such

ascendency among the lawyers of Illinois. The reader is enabled thereby

to understand the philosophy of his growth.

But now another field is preparing to claim him. There will soon be

great need for his clear reason, masterly mind and heroic devotion to

principle. The distant mutterings of an approaching contest are

driving scattered factions into a union of sentiment and action. As

the phalanxes of warriors are preparing for action, amid the rattle

of forensic musketry, Lincoln, their courageous leader, equipped for

battle, springs into view.

Abraham Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life, Volume 2 (of 2) · 第 1 / 11 章