CHAPTER VI

I. HELPFULNESS AND KINDNESS OF A WORTH-WHILE CHARACTER

It would take a whole book to tell the stories of kindness and sympathy told by those who were neighbors and friends of Lincoln. All who knew him agree in saying how much he loved children and how considerate he was for the comfort of others.

While living in the Rutledge tavern he often took upon himself all kinds of discomforts to accommodate travellers. The Great Book says, "He who loses his life for my sake shall find it." Lincoln seemed most of the time to forget that he had any life of his own in trying to do good to others. Many times he served ungrateful people, and many persons mistreated him who mistook his kindness for servility, but that didn't change Lincoln. He kept right on doing good to others, until at last he lost his life, in the full meaning of that phrase, but we may be sure that somewhere else he has found it.

If a traveller became stuck in the mud, literally or figuratively, Lincoln always seemed to be the first to see his need. If widows and orphans were suffering, he was the first to know it and relieve their wants.

Deeds of kindness often look like "bread cast upon the waters," but we are assured that such is not lost, for it "shall return after many days."

The effective way in which Lincoln sometimes turned upon those who "run him down" by sarcastic references to his poverty or looks is illustrated by his reply to George Forquer. Lincoln was to make his first speech in the Court House at Springfield, and he was to be answered by Forquer, a rather aristocratic citizen of the town who had been a Whig, but who had recently turned over to the Democrats and received the appointment to an important office. Incidentally, he had also put up a lightning rod to protect his rather showy house, and this fact was quite well known, because it was the first lightning rod to be put upon a house in that county.

Forquer rose to speak as Lincoln sat down, and his smile of derision seemed to show that he expected to demolish with ridicule the backwoodsman from New Salem.

Turning to Lincoln, he said, "The young man must be taken down, and I am truly sorry that the task devolves upon me."

He was a witty and sarcastic speaker. He did not try to argue but ridiculed Lincoln in the most offensive way. Lincoln's friends feared for this onslaught, not knowing what Lincoln could say. But Lincoln said it so effectively in a few words, as he always seemed able to do, that his opponent lost and never recovered.

In closing a very short reply, Lincoln said, pointing his long, accusing finger at Forquer in a scathing rebuke:

"Live long or die young, I would rather die now than, like this gentleman, change my politics, and with the change receive an office with a salary of three thousand dollars a year, and then feel obliged to erect a lightning rod over my house to protect a guilty conscience from the fear of an angry God."

II. THE LOVE OF FREEDOM AND TRUTH

Lincoln's fairness for all men, even when they were his opponents and the enemies of his cause, may be seen in his defense of Colonel Baker.

There was a bitter political campaign in progress, and Colonel Baker was making a speech to a rough crowd in the courthouse. This building had been built to be a storehouse and directly over the speaker was a loft with a stairway near the speaker's stand. Lincoln was sitting on the platform above as a more convenient place to hear the speaker than from the crowded floor below.

The speaker began to say things that annoyed the crowd. Suddenly the yell was raised to take him off the stand and put him out. The crowd surged forward when Lincoln's long legs were seen to swing over the edge of the opening at the head of the stairs as if he had no time to use the steps. He alighted on his feet by the speaker's side.

"Gentlemen," cried Lincoln as he raised his hand to stop the oncoming rioters, "let us not disgrace the age and country in which we live. This is a land where the freedom of speech is guaranteed. Mr. Baker has a right to speak, and ought to be permitted to do so. I am here to protect him, and no man shall take him from this stand if I can prevent it."

The sudden appearance of this champion of human rights dropping down from above so unexpectedly, his perfect calmness and fairness and the well-known fact that he was no idle boaster, quieted the outbreak, and Colonel Baker finished his address in peace.

Joshua Speed tells how Lincoln rode into Springfield on a borrowed horse to attend his first session of the legislature with all his earthly possessions packed into his saddle bags. Lincoln came into the store owned by Speed and asked the price of a bedstead with its equipment of bedding. The price was named, Lincoln said that was no doubt cheap enough but that he could not buy it unless the storekeeper could wait for part of the pay until the money was earned.

Speed was greatly impressed with the earnest young man. He offered to share with him the room which he used over the store. He pointed to the stairway leading up to the room.

Lincoln went up the stairs and in a moment appeared at the stairway with beaming face.

"Well, Speed," he said, "I am moved."

Thus he made friends of all persons at once and they were not fairweather friends, but lifetime friends.

The homely old copybook text so familiar to our grandmothers, "Beauty is as beauty does," applies well to the appearance of Lincoln, and to the first impressions received by those who saw him. Paraphrasing the poet, "none knew him but to love him, none knew him but to praise." He was like one transformed in the animation and zeal of expressing his profound sentiments of freedom, humanity and truth.

One who knew Lincoln well says, "He was one of the homeliest men ever seen when walking around, but while he was making a speech he was one of the handsomest men I have ever known."

III. THE WIT-MAKERS AND THEIR WIT

Lincoln's quick wit never contained any sting and he lost no friends by it. On one occasion several of his friends got into an argument about the proper proportions of the body. They could agree on their theories in all respects excepting the relative length of the legs. Lincoln listened gravely to their arguments, and, as usual, some one asked him his opinion.

"It is of course one of the most important of problems, and doubtless was a source of great anxiety to the maker of man. But, after all is said and done, it is my opinion that man's lower limbs, in order to combine harmony and service, should be at least long enough to reach from his body to the ground."

At another time a very unhandsome man stopped Lincoln and peered offensively into his face.

"What seems to be the matter, my friend," inquired Lincoln.

"Well," replied the stranger, "I have always considered it my duty if ever I came across a man uglier than myself to shoot him on the spot."

Lincoln took his hand in friendly agreement.

"Stranger, if this is really true, shoot me. If I thought I was uglier than you, I'd want to die."

Senator Voorhees of Indiana said that he once heard Lincoln defeat a windy little pettifogging lawyer by telling a story. After showing how the fellow's arguments were only empty words, he said, "He can't help it. When his oratory begins it exhausts all his force of mind. The moment he begins to talk his mental operations cease. I never knew of but one thing that was similar to my friend in that respect. Back in the days when I was a keel boatman I became acquainted with a puffy little steamboat, which used to bustle and wheeze its way up and down the Sangamon River. It had a fivefoot boiler and a seven-foot whistle, so that every time it whistled that boat stopped."

Even in business Lincoln could not refrain from expressing himself in a humorous way. A New York firm wrote him to know the financial reliability of one of their customers. He replied:

"I am well acquainted with your customer and know his circumstances. First, he has a wife and baby: these ought to be worth not less than $50,000 to any man. Secondly, he has an office in which there is a table worth $1.50, and three chairs at, say, $1.00.

"Last of all, there is in one corner a large rathole, which will bear looking into. "Respectfully, "A. LINCOLN."

All the great contemporaries who heard Lincoln tell stories agree that he never told one merely for the sake of the story or to raise a laugh, but always to carry some useful point or impress an idea. The aptness and wit of his stories often were more convincing than any argument or logic. We may be assured that any other kind of a Lincoln story is spurious, and none of his.

He had a case where two men had got into a fight. It was proven that Lincoln's man had merely defended himself against the other's attack. But the other attorney insisted that Lincoln's man could have defended himself less violently.

Lincoln closed out the argument and won his case with a story.

"That reminds me," said Lincoln, "of the man who was attacked by a farmer's dog. He defended himself so violently with a pitchfork that he killed the dog.

"'What made you kill my dog?' demanded the angry farmer.

"'Because he tried to bite me,' replied the victim.

"'Well, why didn't you go at him with the other end of the pitchfork?' persisted the farmer.

"'Well, I would,' replied the man, 'if he had come at me with the other end of the dog.'"

IV. TURBULENT TIMES AND SOCIAL STORMS

One of the most singular, as well as undignified, experiences of Lincoln is closely involved in the most important measures of his life. This refers to the duel which he never fought with a man who was a stormy disturber for many years in many exalted yet unbecoming affairs.

In 1840 Lincoln became engaged to Miss Mary Todd of Lexington, Kentucky, who was visiting her sister, Mrs. Ninian Edwards of Springfield. She came of a noted and rather aristocratic family of Kentucky. That two persons, so unlike in ancestry, in social experience, and in education, should be attracted to each other has seemed to be mystery enough to breed much speculation, a great number of curious stories, and much ungracious comment.

Lincoln was aware of these differences as much as any one, and this, if there were no other cause, would account for his seeming uncertainties, his hesitation and the delays in his courting affairs which have been the source of so much elaboration and explanation.

Lincoln had much social self-depreciation and he had a poetical fancy idealizing his own sensitiveness toward women. It may well be concluded that his judgment was helplessly unsettled from the impossibility of any foresight in a matter of such vital life-importance. The endless gossip that swarmed about Lincoln's love affairs may well be dismissed as worthless in the presence of the facts.

Lincoln married Mary Todd November 4, 1842. During the summer before, in commercial and political affairs, there had arisen the greatest dissatisfaction with the money-interests and currency of the state. The current money had depreciated to half its value. Though the people had to use that kind of money in all their transactions, the state officers required their salaries to be paid in gold.

The auditor of the State was a young Irishman named James Shields. He was exceedingly vain, pompous and of violent temper. Therefore, he was a shining mark for the wit of those opposed to the present management of the state.

In the "Sangamo Journal" there appeared an article of witty satire, ridiculing Shields and the financial methods of his political associates. It was signed, "Rebecca from Lost Townships."

Shields became furious and demanded to fight the man responsible for it. The significance of this is rather in the peculiar popularity and yet unpopularity of such a man as Shields. His reckless adventures, his incessant boasting, and his whirlwind career of turmoil all loaded him with praise and ridicule for many a year.

Shields went into the Mexican War and came out with his own brand of glory. But it won popularity enough to make him Senator of the United States. As an indication of his amazing character, he wrote a preposterous letter to the man he defeated, declaring, that if Judge Breese had not been defeated, Shields would have killed him.

It can be imagined what the fury of such a man must have been against the "Rebecca" letters.

The next week another "Rebecca" letter appeared which was this time unmistakably written by some mischief-loving woman. She offered to settle the quarrel by marrying the aggrieved gentleman. This was too much for Shields and he stormed the newspaper office to know whom he should hold responsible for the "Rebecca letters."

V. THE FRONTIER "FIRE-EATER"

The public taste and the public requirements of its individuals change, as all know, from generation to generation. The development of Lincoln's life can be appreciated only as the community in which he lived is understood. The public custom is necessary to explain Lincoln's part in this peculiar episode.

The truth in this clownish affair was that Lincoln had written the first letter, and two young ladies, one of them Mary Todd, were the authors of the second letter. Mary Todd was at that time estranged from Lincoln, and probably did not know that he was the writer of the first "Rebecca Letter."

Shields sent his friend, General Whiteside, with a fiery demand to the editor of the paper to know the authors of the "Rebecca letters." The editor at once consulted Lincoln, who told the editor to tell General Whitesides that Lincoln held himself responsible for the "Rebecca letters."

Nothing suited Shields better. He began at once to make public the most insulting letters to Lincoln and to issue the most fiery challenges to a duel.

Though duelling was at that time forbidden by law, yet so strong was public opinion that the one who refused to fight a duel was branded as a coward and would not only lose his usefulness with the public, but his opponent would thus gain corresponding prestige.

Lincoln so far conceded to this demand as to accept the challenge, but on such terms as to make the battle ridiculous rather than heroic. He had the right to choose the weapons and the conditions, so he chose "cavalry broadswords of the largest size," and the fight was to be "across a board platform six feet wide."

Lincoln felt keenly the stupidity of the whole affair, but it would be degrading to his political standing to refuse. Fortunately, Lincoln had a friend in Doctor Merryman, who was not only a witty writer, but he loved a fight, and he used his wit with a fervor that overwhelmed even such men as Shields and Whitesides in the final roundup.

However, the duel progressed so far that the parties thereto went to Alton and crossed over to Missouri for the fight. But friends arrived and persuaded Shields to withdraw the challenge. The next week Shields wrote a bombastic article in the "Sangamo Journal" crowning himself as a hero and Lincoln as a coward. Then Dr. Merryman came to the rescue. The next week the "Sangamo Journal" had another version of the now ridiculous duel. It showed up the Shields' side as so utterly absurd that the humor and tragic aspect of the affair among such prominent people became the sensation of the day. General Whitesides challenged Doctor Merryman and Merryman responded, with the declaration that his selection would be rifles at close range in the nearby fields. This would not do, because duelists could not hold office in Illinois and Whitesides was fund commissioner. His boasts proved that he was not afraid to lose his life but he did not want to give up his fat office.

The same thing happened to Shields. He challenged Mr. Butler, one of Lincoln's close friends. Butler accepted at once, choosing "to fight next morning at sunrise in Bob Allen's meadow, one hundred yards' distance with rifles."

Shields declined.

It was a burlesque and a comedy farce, and so it ingloriously ended.

But Shields had no less singular luck than he had singular friends. He was commissioned Brigadier-General in the Mexican War while still holding a state office and before he had ever seen a day's service. At Cerro-gordo he was wounded and that wound was doubtless what made him United States Senator from Illinois. After serving one term in constant commotion with his associates, he removed to Minnesota and from there was returned to the Senate of the United States.

In the War of the Rebellion Lincoln appointed him Brigadier-General and he was again wounded in battle when his troops defeated Stonewall Jackson.

He moved into Missouri and from there was sent for the third time to the United States Senate. A few years later he became the subject of one of the bitterest and most disgraceful controversies in Congress over the question of voting him money and a pension.

VI. HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE

Lincoln always seemed to be far more proud of his fist fight with Jack Armstrong of the Clary gang than of his near-duel with Shields and his political ring. He had many an occasion to refer to the Clary boys, but never to the Shields crowd.

It was not Lincoln's disposition to have personal quarrels.

Only one other is known. He got into a verbal encounter with a man named Anderson at Lawrenceville. Anderson wrote him a harsh note demanding satisfaction.

Lincoln replied, "Your note of yesterday is received. In the difficulty between us of which you speak you say you think I was the aggressor. I do not think I was. You say my words 'imported insult.' I meant them as a fair set-off to your own statements, and not otherwise; and in that light alone I now wish you to understand them. You ask for my 'present feelings on the subject.' I entertain no unkind feeling toward you, and none of any sort upon the subject, except a sincere regret that I permitted myself to get into such altercation."

Mr. Anderson was "satisfied" and henceforth counted himself as one of Lincoln's friends.

Another example shows Lincoln's idea of quarrels. It ought to be impressed upon every boy's mind, as the belief of this great leader of men.

In the midst of the war a young officer had been court-martialed for a quarrel with one of his associates, and Lincoln had to give him an official reprimand. It was as follows:

"The advice of a father to his son, 'Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear it that the opposed may beware of thee!' is good, but not the best. Quarrel not at all. No man resolved to make the most of himself can spare time for personal contention. Still less can he afford to take all the consequences, including the vitiating of his temper, and the loss of self-control. Yield larger things to which you can show no more than equal right; and yield lesser ones, though clearly your own. Better give your path to a dog than to be bitten by him in contesting for the right. Even killing the dog would not cure the bite."

But the Shields' quarrel and its skyrocket burlesque had another effect probably of priceless consequence to Lincoln. There was a certain whole-souled, self-effacing championship in it of the two girls who had written the last "Rebecca letter." Mary Todd appreciated it, and she had to express her appreciation to the man whom she knew loved her, but who feared that he could not make her happy. Merely to be made happy is not all that a real woman of true womanhood is concerned with in her choice of a husband. Doubtless, she saw in him qualities to love rather than form or manners. She had abundance of time to consider all things and we may well believe that she was wise and good in her choice. Considering their differences, it is really a great testimony and tribute to her that so little could ever be found for cruel gossip about incompatibility and unhappiness in the Lincoln household.

Mary Todd ignored the coldness that Lincoln's sensitiveness had brought between them, in the mutual adjustment of courtship, and she thanked him for keeping her out of the Shields' gossip and controversy. The coldness disappeared and never returned. They were married, and we must believe that humanity owes her a priceless debt, that she was one of the three great souls who made the immortal man, that together in glory are three great names, Nancy Hanks Lincoln, Sarah Bush Lincoln and Mary Todd Lincoln.