Chapter 6

“Everything went on well, and one or two pictures had been taken, when suddenly there was an uproar. The operator came back to the office and said that ‘Tad’ had taken great offense at the occupation of his room without his consent, and had locked the door, refusing all admission.

“The chemicals had been taken inside, and there was no way of getting at them, he having carried off the key. In the midst of this conversation ‘Tad’ burst in, in a fearful passion. He laid all the blame upon me--said that I had no right to use his room, and the men should not go in even to get their things. He had locked the door and they should not go there again--‘they had no business in his room!’

“Mr. Lincoln was sitting for a photograph, and was still in the chair. He said, very mildly, ‘Tad, go and unlock the door.’ Tad went off muttering into his mother’s room, refusing to obey. I followed him into the passage, but no coaxing would pacify him. Upon my return to the President, I found him still patiently in the chair, from which he had not risen. He said: ‘Has not the boy opened the door?’ I replied that we could do nothing with him--he had gone off in a great pet. Mr. Lincoln’s lips came together firmly, and then, suddenly rising, he strode across the passage with the air of one bent on punishment, and disappeared in the domestic apartments. Directly he returned with the key to the theater, which he unlocked himself.

“‘Tad,’ said he, half apologetically, ‘is a peculiar child. He was violently excited when I went to him. I said, “Tad, do you know that you are making your father a great deal of trouble?” He burst into tears, instantly giving me up the key.’”

REMINDED HIM OF “A LITTLE STORY.”

When Lincoln’s attention was called to the fact that, at one time in his boyhood, he had spelled the name of the Deity with a small “g,” he replied:

“That reminds me of a little story. It came about that a lot of Confederate mail was captured by the Union forces, and, while it was not exactly the proper thing to do, some of our soldiers opened several letters written by the Southerners at the front to their people at home.

“In one of these missives the writer, in a postscript, jotted down this assertion:

“‘We’ll lick the Yanks termorrer, if goddlemity (God Almighty) spares our lives.’

“That fellow was in earnest, too, as the letter was written the day before the second battle of Manassas.”

“FETCHED SEVERAL SHORT ONES.”

“The first time I ever remember seeing ‘Abe’ Lincoln,” is the testimony of one of his neighbors, “was when I was a small boy and had gone with my father to attend some kind of an election. One of the neighbors, James Larkins, was there.

“Larkins was a great hand to brag on anything he owned. This time it was his horse. He stepped up before ‘Abe,’ who was in a crowd, and commenced talking to him, boasting all the while of his animal.

“‘I have got the best horse in the country,’ he shouted to his young listener. ‘I ran him nine miles in exactly three minutes, and he never fetched a long breath.’

“‘I presume,’ said ‘Abe,’ rather dryly, ‘he fetched a good many short ones, though.’”

LINCOLN LUGS THE OLD MAN.

On May 3rd, 1862, “Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper” printed this cartoon, over the title of “Sandbag Lincoln and the Old Man of the Sea, Secretary of the Navy Welles.” It was intended to demonstrate that the head of the Navy Department was incompetent to manage the affairs of the Navy; also that the Navy was not doing as good work as it might.

When this cartoon was published, the United States Navy had cleared and had under control the Mississippi River as far south as Memphis; had blockaded all the cotton ports of the South; had assisted in the reduction of a number of Confederate forts; had aided Grant at Fort Donelson and the battle of Shiloh; the Monitor had whipped the ironclad terror, Merrimac (the Confederates called her the Virginia); Admiral Farragut’s fleet had compelled the surrender of the city of New Orleans, the great forts which had defended it, and the Federal Government obtained control of the lower Mississippi.

“The Old Man of the Sea” was therefore, not a drag or a weight upon President Lincoln, and the Navy was not so far behind in making a good record as the picture would have the people of the world believe. It was not long after the Monitor’s victory that the United States Navy was the finest that ever plowed the seas. The building of the Monitor also revolutionized naval warfare.

McCLELLAN WAS “INTRENCHING.”

About a week after the Chicago Convention, a gentleman from New York called upon the President, in company with the Assistant Secretary of War, Mr. Dana.

In the course of conversation, the gentleman said: “What do you think, Mr. President, is the reason General McClellan does not reply to the letter from the Chicago Convention?”

“Oh!” replied Mr. Lincoln, with a characteristic twinkle of the eye, “he is intrenching!”

MAKE SOMETHING OUT OF IT, ANYWAY.

From the day of his nomination by the Chicago convention, gifts poured in upon Lincoln. Many of these came in the form of wearing apparel. Mr. George Lincoln, of Brooklyn, who brought to Springfield, in January, 1861, a handsome silk hat to the President-elect, the gift of a New York hatter, told some friends that in receiving the hat Lincoln laughed heartily over the gifts of clothing, and remarked to Mrs. Lincoln: “Well, wife, if nothing else comes out of this scrape, we are going to have some new clothes, are we not?”

VICIOUS OXEN HAVE SHORT HORNS.

In speaking of the many mean and petty acts of certain members of Congress, the President, while talking on the subject one day with friends, said:

“I have great sympathy for these men, because of their temper and their weakness; but I am thankful that the good Lord has given to the vicious ox short horns, for if their physical courage were equal to their vicious disposition, some of us in this neck of the woods would get hurt.”

LINCOLN’S NAME FOR “WEEPING WATER.”

“I was speaking one time to Mr. Lincoln,” said Governor Saunders, “of Nebraska, of a little Nebraskan settlement on the Weeping Water, a stream in our State.”

“‘Weeping Water!’ said he.

“Then with a twinkle in his eye, he continued.

“‘I suppose the Indians out there call Minneboohoo, don’t they? They ought to, if Laughing Water is Minnehaha in their language.’”

PETER CARTWRIGHT’S DESCRIPTION OF LINCOLN.

Peter Cartwright, the famous and eccentric old Methodist preacher, who used to ride a church circuit, as Mr. Lincoln and others did the court circuit, did not like Lincoln very well, probably because Mr. Lincoln was not a member of his flock, and once defeated the preacher for Congress. This was Cartwright’s description of Lincoln: “This Lincoln is a man six feet four inches tall, but so angular that if you should drop a plummet from the center of his head it would cut him three times before it touched his feet.”

NO DEATHS IN HIS HOUSE.

A gentleman was relating to the President how a friend of his had been driven away from New Orleans as a Unionist, and how, on his expulsion, when he asked to see the writ by which he was expelled, the deputation which called on him told him the Government would do nothing illegal, and so they had issued no illegal writs, and simply meant to make him go of his own free will.

“Well,” said Mr. Lincoln, “that reminds me of a hotel-keeper down at St. Louis, who boasted that he never had a death in his hotel, for whenever a guest was dying in his house he carried him out to die in the gutter.”

PAINTED HIS PRINCIPLES.

The day following the adjournment of the Baltimore Convention, at which President Lincoln was renominated, various political organizations called to pay their respects to the President. While the Philadelphia delegation was being presented, the chairman of that body, in introducing one of the members, said:

“Mr. President, this is Mr. S., of the second district of our State,--a most active and earnest friend of yours and the cause. He has, among other things, been good enough to paint, and present to our league rooms, a most beautiful portrait of yourself.”

President Lincoln took the gentleman’s hand in his, and shaking it cordially said, with a merry voice, “I presume, sir, in painting your beautiful portrait, you took your idea of me from my principles and not from my person.”

DIGNIFYING THE STATUTE.

Lincoln was married--he balked at the first date set for the ceremony and did not show up at all--November 4, 1842, under most happy auspices. The officiating clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Dresser, used the Episcopal church service for marriage. Lincoln placed the ring upon the bride’s finger, and said, “With this ring I now thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

Judge Thomas C. Browne, who was present, exclaimed, “Good gracious, Lincoln! the statute fixes all that!”

“Oh, well,” drawled Lincoln, “I just thought I’d add a little dignity to the statute.”

LINCOLN CAMPAIGN MOTTOES.

The joint debates between Lincoln and Douglas were attended by crowds of people, and the arrival of both at the places of speaking were in the nature of a triumphal procession. In these processions there were many banners bearing catch-phrases and mottoes expressing the sentiment of the people on the candidates and the issues.

The following were some of the mottoes on the Lincoln banners:

+----------------------------------------------------------+ |Westward the star of empire takes its way; | |The girls link on to Lincoln, their mothers were for Clay.| +----------------------------------------------------------+

+----------------------+ |Abe, the Giant-Killer.| +----------------------+

+---------------------------------+ |Edgar County for the Tall Sucker.| +---------------------------------+

+----------------------------------+ |Free Territories and Free Men, | | Free Pulpits and Free Preachers,| |Free Press and a Free Pen, | | Free Schools and Free Teachers. | +----------------------------------+

GIVING AWAY THE CASE.

Between the first election and inauguration of Mr. Lincoln the disunion sentiment grew rapidly in the South, and President Buchanan’s failure to stop the open acts of secession grieved Mr. Lincoln sorely. Mr. Lincoln had a long talk with his friend, Judge Gillespie, over the state of affairs. One incident of the conversation is thus narrated by the Judge:

“When I retired, it was the master of the house and chosen ruler of the country who saw me to my room. ‘Joe,’ he said, as he was about to leave me, ‘I am reminded and I suppose you will never forget that trial down in Montgomery county, where the lawyer associated with you gave away the whole case in his opening speech. I saw you signaling to him, but you couldn’t stop him.

“‘Now, that’s just the way with me and Buchanan. He is giving away the case, and I have nothing to say, and can’t stop him. Good-night.’”

POSING WITH A BROOMSTICK.

Mr. Leonard Volk, the artist, relates that, being in Springfield when Lincoln’s nomination for President was announced, he called upon Mr. Lincoln, whom he found looking smiling and happy. “I exclaimed, ‘I am the first man from Chicago, I believe, who has had the honor of congratulating you on your nomination for President.’ Then those two great hands took both of mine with a grasp never to be forgotten, and while shaking, I said, ‘Now that you will doubtless be the next President of the United States, I want to make a statue of you, and shall try my best to do you justice.’

“Said he, ‘I don’t doubt it, for I have come to the conclusion that you are an honest man,’ and with that greeting, I thought my hands in a fair way of being crushed.

“On the Sunday following, by agreement, I called to make a cast of Mr. Lincoln’s hands. I asked him to hold something in his hands, and told him a stick would do. Thereupon he went to the woodshed, and I heard the saw go, and he soon returned to the dining-room, whittling off the end of a piece of broom handle. I remarked to him that he need not whittle off the edges. ‘Oh, well,’ said he, ‘I thought I would like to have it nice.’”

“BOTH LENGTH AND BREADTH.”

During Lincoln’s first and only term in Congress--he was elected in 1846--he formed quite a cordial friendship with Stephen A. Douglas, a member of the United States Senate from Illinois, and the beaten one in the contest as to who should secure the hand of Miss Mary Todd. Lincoln was the winner; Douglas afterwards beat him for the United States Senate, but Lincoln went to the White House.

During all of the time that they were rivals in love and in politics they remained the best of friends personally. They were always glad to see each other, and were frequently together. The disparity in their size was always the more noticeable upon such occasions, and they well deserved their nicknames of “Long Abe” and the “Little Giant.” Lincoln was the tallest man in the National House of Representatives, and Douglas the shortest (and perhaps broadest) man the Senate, and when they appeared on the streets together much merriment was created. Lincoln, when joked about the matter, replied, in a very serious tone, “Yes, that’s about the length and breadth of it.”

“ABE” RECITES A SONG.

Lincoln couldn’t sing, and he also lacked the faculty of musical adaptation. He had a liking for certain ballads and songs, and while he memorized and recited their lines, someone else did the singing. Lincoln often recited for the delectation of his friends, the following, the authorship of which is unknown:

The first factional fight in old Ireland, they say, Was all on account of St. Patrick’s birthday; It was somewhere about midnight without any doubt, And certain it is, it made a great rout.

On the eighth day of March, as some people say, St. Patrick at midnight he first saw the day; While others assert ‘twas the ninth he was born-- ‘Twas all a mistake--between midnight and morn.

Some blamed the baby, some blamed the clock; Some blamed the doctor, some the crowing cock. With all these close questions sure no one could know, Whether the babe was too fast or the clock was too slow.

Some fought for the eighth, for the ninth some would die; He who wouldn’t see right would have a black eye. At length these two factions so positive grew, They each had a birthday, and Pat he had two.

Till Father Mulcahay who showed them their sins, He said none could have two birthdays but as twins. “Now boys, don’t be fighting for the eight or the nine; Don’t quarrel so always, now why not combine.”

Combine eight with nine. It is the mark; Let that be the birthday. Amen! said the clerk. So all got blind drunk, which completed their bliss, And they’ve kept up the practice from that day to this.

“MANAGE TO KEEP HOUSE.”

Senator John Sherman, of Ohio, introduced his brother, William T. Sherman (then a civilian) to President Lincoln in March, 1861. Sherman had offered his services, but, as in the case of Grant, they had been refused.

After the Senator had transacted his business with the President, he said: “Mr. President, this is my brother, Colonel Sherman, who is just up from Louisiana; he may give you some information you want.”

To this Lincoln replied, as reported by Senator Sherman himself: “Ah! How are they getting along down there?”

Sherman answered: “They think they are getting along swimmingly; they are prepared for war.”

To which Lincoln responded: “Oh, well, I guess we’ll manage to keep the house.”

“Tecump,” whose temper was not the mildest, broke out on “Brother John” as soon as they were out of the White House, cursed the politicians roundly, and wound up with, “You have got things in a h--l of a fix, and you may get out as best you can.”

Sherman was one of the very few generals who gave Lincoln little or no worry.

GRANT “TUMBLED” RIGHT AWAY.

General Grant told this story about Lincoln some years after the War:

“Just after receiving my commission as lieutenant-general the President called me aside to speak to me privately. After a brief reference to the military situation, he said he thought he could illustrate what he wanted to say by a story. Said he:

“‘At one time there was a great war among the animals, and one side had great difficulty in getting a commander who had sufficient confidence in himself. Finally they found a monkey by the name of Jocko, who said he thought he could command their army if his tail could be made a little longer. So they got more tail and spliced it on to his caudal appendage.

“‘He looked at it admiringly, and then said he thought he ought to have still more tail. This was added, and again he called for more. The splicing process was repeated many times until they had coiled Jocko’s tail around the room, filling all the space.

“‘Still he called for more tail, and, there being no other place to coil it, they began wrapping it around his shoulders. He continued his call for more, and they kept on winding the additional tail around him until its weight broke him down.’

“I saw the point, and, rising from my chair, replied, ‘Mr. President, I will not call for any more assistance unless I find it impossible to do with what I already have.’”

“DON’T KILL HIM WITH YOUR FIST.”

Ward Lamon, Marshal of the District of Columbia during Lincoln’s time in Washington, was a powerful man; his strength was phenomenal, and a blow from his fist was like unto that coming from the business end of a sledge.

Lamon tells this story, the hero of which is not mentioned by name, but in all probability his identity can be guessed:

“On one occasion, when the fears of the loyal element of the city (Washington) were excited to fever-heat, a free fight near the old National Theatre occurred about eleven o’clock one night. An officer, in passing the place, observed what was going on, and seeing the great number of persons engaged, he felt it to be his duty to command the peace.

“The imperative tone of his voice stopped the fighting for a moment, but the leader, a great bully, roughly pushed back the officer and told him to go away or he would whip him. The officer again advanced and said, ‘I arrest you,’ attempting to place his hand on the man’s shoulder, when the bully struck a fearful blow at the officer’s face.

“This was parried, and instantly followed by a blow from the fist of the officer, striking the fellow under the chin and knocking him senseless. Blood issued from his mouth, nose and ears. It was believed that the man’s neck was broken. A surgeon was called, who pronounced the case a critical one, and the wounded man was hurried away on a litter to the hospital.

“There the physicians said there was concussion of the brain, and that the man would die. All the medical skill that the officer could procure was employed in the hope of saving the life of the man. His conscience smote him for having, as he believed, taken the life of a fellow-creature, and he was inconsolable.

“Being on terms of intimacy with the President, about two o’clock that night the officer went to the White House, woke up Mr. Lincoln, and requested him to come into his office, where he told him his story. Mr. Lincoln listened with great interest until the narrative was completed, and then asked a few questions, after which he remarked:

“‘I am sorry you had to kill the man, but these are times of war, and a great many men deserve killing. This one, according to your story, is one of them; so give yourself no uneasiness about the matter. I will stand by you.’

“‘That is not why I came to you. I knew I did my duty, and had no fears of your disapproval of what I did,’ replied the officer; and then he added: ‘Why I came to you was, I felt great grief over the unfortunate affair, and I wanted to talk to you about it.’

“Mr. Lincoln then said, with a smile, placing his hand on the officer’ shoulder: ‘You go home now and get some sleep; but let me give you this piece of advice--hereafter, when you have occasion to strike a man, don’t hit him with your fist; strike him with a club, a crowbar, or with something that won’t kill him.’”

COULD BE ARBITRARY.

Lincoln could be arbitrary when occasion required. This is the letter he wrote to one of the Department heads:

“You must make a job of it, and provide a place for the bearer of this, Elias Wampole. Make a job of it with the collector and have it done. You can do it for me, and you must.”

There was no delay in taking action in this matter. Mr. Wampole, or “Eli,” as he was thereafter known, “got there.”

A GENERAL BUSTIFICATION.

Many amusing stories are told of President Lincoln and his gloves. At about the time of his third reception he had on a tight-fitting pair of white kids, which he had with difficulty got on. He saw approaching in the distance an old Illinois friend named Simpson, whom he welcomed with a genuine Sangamon county (Illeenoy) shake, which resulted in bursting his white kid glove, with an audible sound. Then, raising his brawny hand up before him, looking at it with an indescribable expression, he said, while the whole procession was checked, witnessing this scene:

“Well, my old friend, this is a general bustification. You and I were never intended to wear these things. If they were stronger they might do well enough to keep out the cold, but they are a failure to shake hands with between old friends like us. Stand aside, Captain, and I’ll see you shortly.”

Simpson stood aside, and after the unwelcome ceremony was terminated he rejoined his old Illinois friend in familiar intercourse.

MAKING QUARTERMASTERS.

H. C. Whitney wrote in 1866: “I was in Washington in the Indian service for a few days before August, 1861, and I merely said to President Lincoln one day: ‘Everything is drifting into the war, and I guess you will have to put me in the army.’

“The President looked up from his work and said, good-humoredly: ‘I’m making generals now; in a few days I will be making quartermasters, and then I’ll fix you.’”

NO POSTMASTERS IN HIS POCKET.

In the “Diary of a Public Man” appears this jocose anecdote:

“Mr. Lincoln walked into the corridor with us; and, as he bade us good-by and thanked Blank for what he had told him, he again brightened up for a moment and asked him in an abrupt kind of way, laying his hand as he spoke with a queer but not uncivil familiarity on his shoulder, ‘You haven’t such a thing as a postmaster in your pocket, have you?’

“Blank stared at him in astonishment, and I thought a little in alarm, as if he suspected a sudden attack of insanity; then Mr. Lincoln went on:

‘You see it seems to me kind of unnatural that you shouldn’t have at least a postmaster in your pocket. Everybody I’ve seen for days past has had foreign ministers and collectors, and all kinds, and I thought you couldn’t have got in here without having at least a postmaster get into your pocket!’”

HE “SKEWED” THE LINE.