The Life of Abraham Lincoln (Arnold)/Chapter II

In the spring of 1830, the Lincoln family removed from Indiana to Illinois, and settled near Decatur, in Macon County. The family and their personal effects were transported by an ox-team, consisting of four yoke of oxen, which were driven by the future President.

Young Lincoln helped to build a cabin for his father, and to break up, fence, and plant a portion of the farm--splitting the rails for the enclosure himself. He was now in his twenty-second year, and living in the land of the Illinii, which signifies the land of full grown men; as an example of such in size, strength, and capacity, one might search the country through and not find his equal. Up to this time all his earnings, with the exception of his own very frugal support, had gone to the maintenance of his father and family. Ambitious to make his way in the world, he now asked permission to strike out for himself, and to seek his own fortune.

His father, after several changes, finally settled near "Goosenest Prairie," in Coles County. There he made his home, until his death, in 1851, at the age of seventy-three. He lived to see his son one of the most prominent lawyers, and one of the most distinguished men of the state. During his life this son was continually performing for him acts of kindness and generosity. He shared in the prosperity, and his pride was gratified in the rising fortunes of his son, who often sent money and other presents to his father and mother, bought land for them, and always treated them with the kindest consideration.

When, in 1830, Lincoln became a citizen of Illinois, this great commonwealth, now the third or fourth state in the Union, and treading fast upon the heels of Ohio and Pennsylvania, was on the frontier, with a population a little exceeding one hundred and fifty thousand. In 1860, when Lincoln was elected President, it had nearly two millions, and was rapidly becoming the center of the republic.

Perhaps he was fortunate in selecting Illinois as his home. Touching on the northeast the vast chain of lakes through which passes to the Hudson and to the St. Lawrence the commerce of the valley of the Mississippi, and having that river along its entire western boundary, more than five hundred miles in length; on the south the Ohio, reaching eastward to the mountains of Pennsylvania and Virginia; while from the west comes to its shores the Missouri, bringing for three thousand miles the waters of the springs of the Rocky Mountains; this was the Illinois in which he settled; then a wilderness, but destined to become in the near future the keystone of the Federal arch. Being thus situated, the National Union was to this state an obvious necessity, and Lincoln, as we shall see, early and always recognized this fact. He realized that his own state, with its vast products, must seek the markets of the world by the Mississippi and the Gulf of Mexico, as well as by the Great Lakes and the Hudson, but never through foreign territory. He early declared that no foreign flag or custom house must ever intervene between Illinois and salt water. To these lakes and rivers encircling her with their mighty arms, is Illinois indebted for her prosperity. Her rich soil, her emerald prairies, her streams fringed with stately forests, have made her the emigrant's paradise. And this land so attractive and beautiful, lacked not the charm of early historic association. Before Penn had pitched his tent on the banks of the Delaware, LaSalle had found his way around the chain of lakes to Chicago, and erected Fort St. Louis on the banks of the Illinois. The settlement of Kaskaskia and Cahokia was contemporaneous with the founding of Philadelphia.

Young Lincoln, although a thoughtful, dreamy youth, would, when brooding over the future, have been almost as unlikely to anticipate the marvelous growth of the state, as to foresee his own still more wonderful elevation. When the sturdy blows of his axe resounded through the primeval forests, or while he lay on the grass at his nooning, with his ear to the earth, one would like to know whether he heard

"The sound of that advancing multitude, Which soon should fill these deserts; from the ground Come up the laugh of children, the soft voice Of maidens, and the sweet and solemn hymn Of Sabbath worshippers."

Did he hear this? If so, he was soon awakened to the stern necessities of the hour. Day dreams would bring neither food nor clothing.

Leaving his father's cabin and seeking abroad for employment, he was engaged by one Denton Offutt to aid in taking a flat-boat loaded with provisions to New Orleans. In April, 1831, the boat reached New Salem, on the Sangamon, and lodged on the dam which had been erected across the stream. When the owner had given up all hope of being able to get the craft over the dam, Lincoln, by the exercise of that ingenuity of invention for which he was ever distinguished, devised a means for the extrication of the boat, and it passed on safely to the Illinois and down the Mississippi to New Orleans.

On this his second visit, he for the first time observed slavery in its most brutal and revolting form. New Orleans was a slave mart, and his companion reports that Lincoln then witnessed for the first time the spectacle of the chaining together and whipping of slaves. He saw families sold, the separation forever of husband and wife, of parent and child. When we recall how deeply he always sympathized with suffering, brute as well as human, and his strong love of justice, we can realize how deeply he was affected by these things. His companions on this trip to New Orleans have attempted to describe his indignation and grief. They said, "his heart bled, ...he was mad, thoughtful, abstracted, sad and depressed."

Lincoln often declared to his intimate friends that he was from boyhood superstitious. He said that the near approach of the important events in his life were indicated by a presentiment or a strange dream, or in some other mysterious way it was impressed upon him that something important was to occur. There is a tradition that on this visit to New Orleans he and his companion, John Hanks, visited an old fortune teller, a Voudou negress. Tradition says that during the interview she became very much excited, and after various predictions exclaimed: "You will be President, and all the negroes will be free." That the old Voudou negress should have foretold that the visitor would be President is not at all incredible. She doubtless told this to many aspiring lads, but the prophecy of the freedom of the slaves requires confirmation.

On his return from New Orleans, in July, 1831, he was employed by Offutt to take charge of a country store at New Salem, a small village near the Sangamon River. In August of the same year, he acted as clerk of the election. He remained as a salesman with Offutt until the spring of 1832. He was a great favorite, both with his employer and his customers. Anecdotes of his scrupulous honesty and his bravery in protecting women from annoyance by bullies, are so numerous that we have not space to relate them. Offutt often declared that his clerk, or salesman, knew more than any man in the United States, and that he could outrun, whip or throw any man in the county. These boasts came to the ears of "The Clary Grove Boys," a set of rude, roystering, good-natured fellows, who lived in and around "Clary's Grove," a settlement near New Salem. Their leader was Jack Armstrong, a great, square-built fellow, strong as an ox, and who was believed by his partisans to be able to whip any man on the Sangamon River. The issue was thus made between Lincoln and Armstrong as to which was the better man, and although Lincoln tried to avoid such contests, nothing but an actual trial could settle the question among their partisans. And so they met and wrestled for some time, without any decided advantage on either side. Finally Jack resorted to some foul play which roused Lincoln's indignation. Putting forth his whole strength, he seized the great bully by the throat, and holding him at arm's length, shook him like a boy. The "Clary Grove Boys," who made up most of the crowd of the lookers-on, were ready to pitch in, on behalf of their champion, and a general onslaught upon Lincoln was threatened. Lincoln backed up against Offutt's store, and was ready, calmly awaiting the attack of the whole crowd. But his cool courage touched the manhood of Jack Armstrong. He stepped forward, seized Lincoln's hand and shook it heartily as he declared; "Boys! Abe Lincoln is the best fellow that ever broke into this settlement. He shall be one of us." From that time on, Jack Armstrong was Lincoln's man and his most willing thrall. His hand, his table, his purse, his vote, and that of the "Clary Grove Boys," belonged to Lincoln. Lincoln's popularity with them was unbounded, and his rule was just. He would have fair play, and he repressed the violence and brutality of these rough fellows to an extent which would have been impossible to another man. He could stop a fight and quell a riot among these rude neighbors when all others failed.

What made Lincoln so popular with the "Clary Grove Boys"? He did not use tobacco, nor drink, nor gamble, nor fight except when he was obliged to, and yet the rough fellows almost worshipped him. Why? He was brave, he could fight, and physically he was their superior, but he indulged in none of their vices, nor did he flatter them. Although he was their companion, he made them respect him. He treated them like men, and always brought out the best there was in them. They felt his moral and intellectual superiority, but they also felt that he did not despise them, and that he sympathized with them. In a certain sense he was one of them, but he was their ideal, their hero.

A fellow-clerk in Offutt's store, a Mr. Green, declares that Lincoln's talk showed that he was, even then, dreaming of "a great life, and a great destiny." He, at this time, although extremely poor, took, and read, the Louisville Journal, edited by George D. Prentice, a man who for wit and repartee has, perhaps, never had his superior among the editors of the United States.

In the spring of 1832, Offutt having failed, Lincoln was again out of employment. During the spring and summer, great excitement and alarm prevailed in Northern Illinois, on account of the Black Hawk war. There is nowhere a more beautiful, fertile, and picturesque valley, than the valley of Rock River, in Northern Illinois. It had been the hunting-ground and home of the Sac tribe of Indians of which Black Hawk was the chief. The tribe for several years had been living on their reservation, west of the Mississippi, but this brave warrior and skillful leader, uniting several tribes under his leadership, determined to return to the old home, and re-occupy the old hunting-grounds. Crossing the Miss-issippi with his warriors, several white families were murdered, and the whole state was alarmed. John Reynolds, Governor of Illinois, issued his proclamation, calling for volunteers to help the Federal troops drive the Indians out of the state. Lincoln promptly volunteered, and his friends, the "Clary Grove Boys," soon made up a company.

The volunteers gathered at Rushville, in Schuyler County,-- at which place they were to be organized,-- and elected officers. Lincoln was a candidate for the place of captain, and in opposition to him was one William Kirkpatrick. The mode of election was novel. By agreement, each candidate walked off to some distance, and took position by himself; the men were then to form, and those who voted for Lincoln were to stand in a line with him, and those who voted for Kirkpatrick to range on a line with their candidate. When the lines were formed, Lincoln's was three times as long as that of Kirkpatrick, and so Lincoln was declared elected. Speaking of this when President, he said that he was more gratified with this, his first success, than with any other election of his life. Neither Lincoln nor his company was in any engagement during the campaign, but there was plenty of hardship and fatigue, and some incidents occurred to illustrate his courage and power over men. Perhaps the most notable event in the campaign, so far as Captain Lincoln was concerned, was his determined and successful effort to save the life of an Indian from the infuriated soldiers.

One day there came into camp, a poor, old, hungry Indian. He had in his possession, General Cass's "safe-conduct," and certificate of friendship for the whites. But this he did not at first show, and the soldiers, suspecting him to be a spy, and exasperated by the late Indian barbarities, with the recent horrible murder by the Indians of some women and children still fresh in their minds, were about to kill him. Many of these soldiers were Kentuckians with the hereditary Indian hatred, and some, like their captain, could recall the murder by the red men, of some ancestor, or other member of their own families. In a phrensy of excitement and blind rage, they believed, or affected to believe, that the "safe-conduct" of the old Indian, which was now produced, was a forgery, and they were approaching the old savage, with muskets cocked, to dispatch him, when Lincoln rushed forward, knocked up their weapons, and standing in front of the victim, in a determined voice ordered them not to fire, declaring that the Indian should not be killed. The mob, their passions fully roused, were not so easily to be restrained. Lincoln stood for a moment between the Indian and a dozen muskets, and, for a few seconds, it seemed doubtful whether both would not be shot down. After a pause, the militia reluctantly, and like bull-dogs leaving their prey, lowered their weapons and sullenly turned away. Bill Green, an old comrade, said: "I never in all my life saw Lincoln so roused before."

The time for which the company had volunteered having expired, the men were discharged. But Black Hawk and his warriors being still east of the Mississippi, Governor Reynolds issued a second call for troops, and Lincoln at once responded by volunteering again, and this time he served as a private in a company of which Elijah Iles, of Springfield, was elected captain. This company did service as a company of mounted rangers, and in it Lincoln served until the close of the war. Here he met as a fellow soldier, John T, Stuart, afterwards member of Congress, and others, who became prominent citizens of Illinois.

In their camp on the banks of Rock River, near where the city of Dixon is now situated, there met at this time, Lieutenant Colonel Zachary Taylor, Lieutenant Jefferson Davis, Lieutenant Robert Anderson, and private Abraham Lincoln, of Captain Iles's company of Illinois Mounted Rangers.

Lincoln and Anderson did not meet again until sometime in 1861, and after Major Anderson had evacuated Fort Sumter. He then visited Washington, and called at the White House to pay his respects to the President. After having expressed his thanks to Anderson for his conduct in South Carolina. Mr. Lincoln said: "Major, do you remember of ever meeting me before?" "No, Mr. President, I have no recollection of ever having had the pleasure before." "My memory is better than yours," said Mr. Lincoln. "You mustered me into the service of the United States, in 1832, at Dixon's Ferry, in the Black Hawk war.'"

Father Dixon, who, as above stated, was attached to this company of mounted rangers as guide, says that in their marches, when approaching a grove or depression in which an Indian ambush might be concealed, and when scouts were sent forward to examine the cover, Lincoln was often selected for that duty, and he adds that while many, as they approached the place of suspected ambush, found an excuse for dismounting to adjust girths or saddles, Lincoln's saddle was always in order. He also states that at evening, when off duty, Lincoln was generally found sitting on the grass, with a group of soldiers eagerly listening to the stories of which his supply seemed inexhaustible, and that he invariably declined the whiskey which his comrades, grateful for the amusement he afforded, pressed upon him.

When a member of Congress, Mr. Lincoln made a very amusing campaign speech, in which, alluding to the custom of exaggerating the military service of candidates, and ridiculing the extravagant claims to heroism set up for General Lewis Cass, then a candidate for the Presidency against General Zachary Taylor, he referred with great good humor to his own services in the Black Hawk war in the following terms:

"By the way, Mr. Speaker, did you know I am a military hero? Yes, sir; in the days of the Black Hawk war I fought, bled, and came away. Speaking of General Cass's career reminds me of my own. I was not at Stillman's defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass was to Hull's surrender; and, like him, I saw the place very soon afterwards. It is quite certain I did not break my sword, for I had none to break; but I bent my musket pretty badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword, the idea is he broke it in desperation. I bent my musket by accident. If General Cass went in advance of me in picking whortle-berries, I guess I surpassed him in charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live fighting Indians, it was more than I did; but I had a stood many bloody struggles with the musquitoes, and, although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can truly say I was often very hungry. Mr. Speaker, if I should ever conclude to doff whatever our democratic friends may suppose there is of black-cockade federalism about me, and thereupon they shall take me up as their candidate for the Presidency, I protest they shall not make fun of me, as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a military hero."

The volunteers returned from the Black Hawk war a short time before the state election. In this expedition Lincoln had rendered himself so popular that his comrades and others insisted upon his being a candidate for the Legislature. Although not elected, he received the unanimous vote of New Salem. For member of Congress both candidates together received 206 votes, while Lincoln alone received 207 votes for the Legislature.

Left again without employment, he was induced, in association with one Berry as partner, to become the purchaser of a small store at New Salem. Berry turned out to be a dissipated, worthless fellow, and within a few months the enterprise failed, leaving Lincoln responsible for the purchase money. It was six years before he was able entirely to pay off the liabilities thus incurred.

It was while he was salesman for Offutt, and proprietor of this little store, that Mr. Lincoln acquired the sobriquet of "Honest Abe." Of many incidents illustrating his integrity one or two may be mentioned. One evening he found his cash overrun a little, and he discovered that in making change for his last customer, an old woman who had come in a little before sundown, he had made a mistake, not having given her quite enough. Although the amount was small, a few cents only, he took the money, immediately walked to her house, and corrected the error. At another time, on his arrival at the store in the morning, he found on the scales a weight which he remembered having used just before closing, but which was not the one he had intended to use. He had sold a parcel of tea, and in the hurry had placed the wrong weight on the scales, so that the purchaser had a few ounces less of tea than had been paid for. He immediately sent the quantity required to make up the deficiency. These and many similar incidents are told, exhibiting his scrupulous honesty in the most trifling matters, and for these the people gave him the name which clung to him through life.

In the course of the great debate between Lincoln and Douglas, in 18S8, at their joint discussion at Ottawa, Douglas alluded to Lincoln's store-keeping. He said:

"I have known him for nearly twenty-four years. There were many points of sympathy between us. When we first got acquainted, I was a school-teacher at Winchester, and he a flourishing grocery-keeper at Salem... He soon got into the Legislature. I met him then, and had a sympathy with him because of the up-hill struggle we both had in life."

On the 7th of May, 1833, he was appointed postmaster at New Salem. This was a small office with a weekly mail. He kept the office until the station was discontinued and the place of delivery changed to Petersburg. The balance in his hands at the time of the discontinuance of the office was sixteen or eighteen dollars. This small sum was perhaps overlooked by the post-office department and was not called for until some years after Lincoln had removed to Springfield. During these years he had been in debt and very poor. So poor, indeed, that he had often been compelled to borrow money of his friends to pay for the very necessities of life. One day an agent of the post-office called at Dr. Henry's, with whom Lincoln at that time kept his law office. Knowing Mr. Lincoln's poverty, and how often he had been pressed for money, Henry says: "I did not believe he had the money on hand to meet the draft, and I was about to call him aside and loan him the money, when he asked the agent to be seated a moment, while he went over to his trunk at his boarding-house, and returned with an old blue sock with a quantity of silver and copper coin tied up in it. Untying the sock, he poured the contents on the table and proceeded to count the coin, which consisted of such silver and copper pieces as the country-people were then in the habit of using in paying postage. On counting it up there was found the exact amount, to a cent, of the draft, and in the identical coin which had been received. He never used, under any circumstances, trust funds. The anecdote will recall an incident narrated by Sir Walter Scott in the "Chronicles of the Canongate."

On the return of Craftengry, who had been absent twenty years, honest "Shanet," in triumph, hands him the fifteen shillings, she has kept sacred for him, saying: "Here they are, and Shanet has had siller, and Shanet has wanted siller, mony a time since that. The gauger has come, and the factor has come, and the butcher, and the baker. Cot bless us--just like to tear poor ould Shanet to pieces, but she took good care of Mr. Craftengry's fifteen shillings." So with Mr. Lincoln, the tailor came, the boarding-house keeper came, and the law bookseller came, but Lincoln took good care of Uncle Sam's post-office money.

In 1832, Lincoln bought at auction, in Springfield, a second hand copy of Blackstone's Commentaries, and began to study law. A few weeks hard study, and he had mastered this elementary work, and laid the foundation of a good lawyer's education; he then resolved to make the law his profession. But he had neither books, nor any means of buying them. In this dilemma he sought the advice of his old friend, comrade and fellow soldier in the Black Hawk war, John T. Stuart. Mr. Stuart was a prosperous and successful lawyer at Springfield, and had, for a new country, a respectable law library. Stuart encouraged him to go on, and generously offered to loan to him all the law books he needed. And now, with an application which showed that he had at last found a congenial pursuit, he devoted himself to study.

He still lived at New Salem, some fourteen miles from Springfield; he walked into town to exchange one book for another, and, it is said, he would often master thirty or forty pages of the new book on his way home. He was often seen seated against the trunk of a tree, or lying on the grass under its shade, poring over his books, changing his position as the sun advanced, so as to keep in the shadow. So intense was his application, and so absorbed was he in his study, that he would pass his best friends without observing them, and some people said that Lincoln was going crazy with hard study. He very soon began to make a practical application of his knowledge. He bought an old form-book, and began to draw up contracts, deeds, leases, mortgages, and all sorts of legal instruments for his neighbors. He also began to exercise his forensic ability in trying small cases before justices of the peace and juries, and he soon acquired a local reputation as a speaker, which gave him considerable practice.

But he was able in this way to earn scarcely money enough for his maintenance. To add to his means, he again took up the study of surveying, and soon became, like Washington, a skillful and accurate surveyor. John Calhoun, an intelligent and courteous gentleman, was at that time surveyor of the County of Sangamon. He became interested in Lincoln, and appointed him as his deputy. His work was so accurate, and the settlers had such confidence in him, that he was much sought after to survey, fix and mark the boundaries of farms, and to plot and layoff new towns and villages. Among others. he plotted and laid off the town of Petersburg. His accuracy must have been attained with some difficulty, for the old settlers who survive say that when he began to survey his chain was a grape-vine. He did not speculate in the land he surveyed. Had he done so, the rapid advance in the value of real estate would have made it easy for him to make good investments. But he was not in the least like one of his appointees when President-- a surveyor-general of a western territory, who bought up much of the best land, and to whom the President said: "I am told, sir, you are monarch of all you survey."

By surveying, and his small law practice, he earned his very frugal livelihood, and made some progress in reducing the debts incurred by the purchase of the store. But, in 1834, one of the notes which he had given for it was put in judgment, and the impatient creditor seized his horse, saddle and bridle, and surveying instruments, and sold them under execution. Lincoln was, it is said, somewhat discouraged, but his friends bid in and restored to him the property. One of them, who had often befriended him, and whose name was Bolin Greene, was especially kind and generous. He bid in and restored the horse, saddle, and bridle, and waited Lincoln's convenience for payment. Lincoln was a very grateful and warm-hearted man, and Bolin Greene's friendship and repeated acts of kindness touched him. Bolin Greene died a short time thereafter, and Lincoln tried to deliver a funeral oration over his remains. "When he rose to speak his voice was choked with deep emotion. The tears ran down his cheeks, and he was so overcome that he could not go on. His tears were more eloquent than any words he could have spoken.

Lincoln had not grown up to manhood without the usual experiences of the tender passion. Like most young men, he had his youthful fancies; perhaps on one occasion something which approached a "grand passion." There is more than a mere tradition, that, while residing at New Salem, he became very much attached to a prairie beauty, with the sweet and romantic name of Anne Rutledge. Irving, in his "Life of Washington," says: "before he was fifteen years old, he had conceived a passion for some unknown beauty, so serious as to disturb his otherwise well regulated mind, and to make him really unhappy." Lincoln was less precocious than Washington, or perhaps his heart was better shielded by the hard labor to which he was subjected. Something sensational and dramatic has been printed in regard to this attachment. Gossip and imagination have represented this early romance as casting a shadow over his whole after life, and as having produced something bordering upon insanity. The picture has been somewhat too highly colored, and the story made rather too tragic.

James Rutledge, one of the founders of New Salem, and who is said to have been of the distinguished South Carolina family of that name, one of whom was a signer of the "Declaration of Independence," was a warm personal friend of Lincoln. He was the father of a large family, and among the daughters was Anne, born January 7th, 1813. She is described as being a blonde, with golden hair, lips as red as the cherry, a cheek like the wild rose, with blue eyes, as sweet and gentle in manners and temper as attractive in person. Lincoln was among her suitors, and they were engaged to be married as soon as he should have finished his legal studies, and he should be admitted to the bar of the Supreme Court. But in August, 1835, she died. Her beauty and attractions, and her early death, made a very deep impression upon him. He idealized her memory, and in his recollections of her, there was a poetry of sentiment, which might possibly have been lessened had she lived, by the prosaic realities of life.

With all his love of fun and frolic, with all his wit and humor, with all his laughter and anecdotes, Lincoln, from his youth, was a person of deep feeling, and there was always mingled with his mirth, sadness and melancholy. He always associated with the memory of Anne Rutledge the plaintive poem which in his hours of melancholy he so often repeated, and whose familiar first stanzas are as follows:

"Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a swift fleeting meteor, a fast flying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.

"The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade. Be scattered around, and together be laid, And the young and the old, and the low and the high Shall moulder to dust and together shall lie."

Lincoln loved at twilight, or when in the country, or in solitude, or when with some confidential friend, to repeat this poem. I think he exaggerated its merits, and I attribute his great love of the poem to its association with Anne Rutledge. Several years passed after the sad death of Miss Rutledge before he married. It is not impossible that his devotion to her memory may have been, in part, the cause of so long a delay.

An old friend of Lincoln long years afterwards, on one occasion when they were talking of old times at New Salem, of the Greenes and Armstrongs and Rutledges, ventured to ask him about his early attachment, to which he replied: "I loved her dearly. She was a handsome girl, and would have made a good, loving wife. She was natural, and quite intellectual, though not highly educated."

In 1834, Lincoln was again a candidate for the Legislature, and was now elected, receiving a greater number of votes than any other man on either ticket. This is the more remarkable as among his colleagues was his old friend and comrade, John T. Stuart. Thus, at the age of twenty-five, this plain, rough, sturdy son of a pioneer found himself a member of the Illinois Legislature, and the most popular man in Sangamon County.