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Lincoln's Yarns and Stories by Colonel Alexander K. McClure

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General McClellan, aside from his lack of aggressiveness, fretted
the President greatly with his complaints about military matters,
his obtrusive criticism regarding political matters, and
especially at his insulting declaration to the Secretary of War,
dated June 28th, 1862, just after his retreat to the James River.

General Halleck was made Commander-in-Chief of the Union forces
in July, 1862, and September 1st McClellan was called to
Washington. The day before he had written his wife that "as a
matter of self-respect, I cannot go there." President Lincoln and
General Halleck called at McClellan's house, and the President
said: "As a favor to me, I wish you would take command of the
fortifications of Washington and all the troops for the defense
of the capital."

Lincoln thought highly of McClellan's ability as an organizer and
his strength in defense, yet any other President would have had
him court-martialed for using this language, which appeared in
McClellan's letter of June 28th:

"If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no thanks
to you or to any other person in Washington. You have done your
best to sacrifice this army."

This letter, although addressed to the Secretary of War,
distinctly embraced the President in the grave charge of
conspiracy to defeat McClellan's army and sacrifice thousands of
the lives of his soldiers.


Lincoln was averse to being put up as a military hero.

When General Cass was a candidate for the Presidency his friends
sought to endow him with a military reputation.

Lincoln, at that time a representative in Congress, delivered a
speech before the House, which, in its allusion to Mr. Cass, was
exquisitely sarcastic and irresistibly humorous:

"By the way, Mr. Speaker," said Lincoln, "do 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 to Hull's surrender; and like him I saw the place very soon

"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 General Cass went in advance of me picking whortleberries, I
guess I surpassed him in charging upon the wild onion.

"If he saw any live, fighting Indians, it was more than I did,
but I had a good many bloody struggles with the mosquitoes, and
although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can truly say that
I was often very hungry."

Lincoln concluded by saying that if he ever turned Democrat and
should run for the Presidency, he hoped they would not make fun
of him by attempting to make him a military hero.


About March, 1862, General Benjamin F. Butler, in command at
Fortress Monroe, advised President Lincoln that he had determined
to regard all slaves coming into his camps as contraband of war,
and to employ their labor under fair compensation, and Secretary
of War Stanton replied to him, in behalf of the President,
approving his course, and saying, "You are not to interfere
between master and slave on the one hand, nor surrender slaves
who may come within your lines."

This was a significant milestone of progress to the great end
that was thereafter to be reached.


Mr. Lincoln being found fault with for making another "call,"
said that if the country required it, he would continue to do so
until the matter stood as described by a Western provost marshal,
who says:

"I listened a short time since to a butternut-clad individual,
who succeeded in making good his escape, expatiate most
eloquently on the rigidness with which the conscription was
enforced south of the Tennessee River. His response to a question
propounded by a citizen ran somewhat in this wise:

"'Do they conscript close over the river?'

"'Stranger, I should think they did! They take every man who
hasn't been dead more than two days!'

"If this is correct, the Confederacy has at least a ghost of a
chance left."

And of another, a Methodist minister in Kansas, living on a small
salary, who was greatly troubled to get his quarterly instalment.
He at last told the non-paying trustees that he must have his
money, as he was suffering for the necessaries of life.

"Money!" replied the trustees; "you preach for money? We thought
you preached for the good of souls!"

"Souls!" responded the reverend; "I can't eat souls; and if I
could it would take a thousand such as yours to make a meal!"

"That soul is the point, sir," said the President.


On February 5th, 1865, President Lincoln formulated a message to
Congress, proposing the payment of $400,000,000 to the South as
compensation for slaves lost by emancipation, and submitted it to
his Cabinet, only to be unanimously rejected.

Lincoln sadly accepted the decision, and filed away the
manuscript message, together with this indorsement thereon, to
which his signature was added: "February 5, 1865. To-day these
papers, which explain themselves, were drawn up and submitted to
the Cabinet unanimously disapproved by them."

When the proposed message was disapproved, Lincoln soberly asked:
"How long will the war last?"

To this none could make answer, and he added: "We are spending
now, in carrying on the war, $3,000,000 a day, which will amount
to all this money, besides all the lives."


In his youth, Mr. Lincoln once got an idea for a thrilling,
romantic story. One day, in Springfield, he was sitting with his
feet on the window sill, chatting with an acquaintance, when he
suddenly changed the drift of the conversation by saying: "Did
you ever write out a story in your mind? I did when I was a
little codger. One day a wagon with a lady and two girls and a
man broke down near us, and while they were fixing up, they
cooked in our kitchen. The woman had books and read us stories,
and they were the first I had ever heard. I took a great fancy to
one of the girls; and when they were gone I thought of her a
great deal, and one day when I was sitting out in the sun by the
house I wrote out a story in my mind. I thought I took my
father's horse and followed the wagon, and finally I found it,
and they were surprised to see me. I talked with the girl, and
persuaded her to elope with me; and that night I put her on my
horse, and we started off across the prairie. After several hours
we came to a camp; and when we rode up we found it was the one we
had left a few hours before, and went in. The next night we tried
again, and the same thing happened--the horse came back to the
same place; and then we concluded that we ought not to elope. I
stayed until I had persuaded her father to give her to me. I
always meant to write that story out and publish it, and I began
once; but I concluded that it was not much of a story. But I
think that was the beginning of love with me."


Lincoln's reply to a Springfield (Illinois) clergyman, who asked
him what was to be his policy on the slavery question was most

"Well, your question is rather a cool one, but I will answer it
by telling you a story:

"You know Father B., the old Methodist preacher? and you know Fox
River and its freshets?

"Well, once in the presence of Father B., a young Methodist was
worrying about Fox River, and expressing fears that he should be
prevented from fulfilling some of his appointments by a freshet
in the river.

"Father B. checked him in his gravest manner. Said he:

"'Young man, I have always made it a rule in my life not to
cross Fox River till I get to it.'

"And," said the President, "I am not going to worry myself over
the slavery question till I get to it."

A few days afterward a Methodist minister called on the
President, and on being presented to him, said, simply:

"Mr. President, I have come to tell you that I think we have got
to Fox River!"

Lincoln thanked the clergyman, and laughed heartily.


The day of Lincoln's second nomination for the Presidency he
forgot all about the Republican National Convention, sitting at
Baltimore, and wandered over to the War Department. While there,
a telegram came announcing the nomination of Johnson as

"What," said Lincoln to the operator, "do they nominate a
Vice-President before they do a President?"

"Why," replied the astonished official, "have you not heard of
your own nomination? It was sent to the White House two hours

"It is all right," replied the President; "I shall probably find
it on my return."


The illustrated newspapers of the United States and England had a
good deal of fun, not only with President Lincoln, but the
latter's Cabinet officers and military commanders as well. It was
said by these funny publications that the President had set up a
guillotine in his "back-yard," where all those who offended were
beheaded with both neatness, and despatch. "Harper's Weekly" of
January 3rd, 1863, contained a cartoon labeled "Those
Guillotines; a Little Incident at the White House," the
personages figuring in the "incident" being Secretary of War
Stanton and a Union general who had been unfortunate enough to
lose a battle to the Confederates. Beneath the cartoon was the
following dialogue:

SERVANT: "If ye plase, sir, them Gilliteens has arrove."
MR. LINCOLN: "All right, Michael. Now, gentlemen, will you be
enough to step out in the back-yard?"

The hair and whiskers of Secretary of War Stanton are ruffled and
awry, and his features are not calm and undisturbed, indicating
that he has an idea of what's the matter in that back-yard; the
countenance of the officer in the rear of the Secretary of War
wears rather an anxious, or worried, look, and his hair isn't
combed smoothly, either.

President Lincoln's frequent changes among army commanders--
before he found Grant, Sherman and Sheridan--afforded an
opportunity the caricaturists did not neglect, and some very
clever cartoons were the consequence.


Consider the sympathy of Abraham Lincoln. Do you know the story
of William Scott, private? He was a boy from a Vermont farm.

There had been a long march, and the night succeeding it he had
stood on picket. The next day there had been another long march,
and that night William Scott had volunteered to stand guard in
the place of a sick comrade who had been drawn for the duty.

It was too much for William Scott. He was too tired. He had been
found sleeping on his beat.

The army was at Chain Bridge. It was in a dangerous neighborhood.
Discipline must be kept.

William Scott was apprehended, tried by court-martial, sentenced
to be shot. News of the case was carried to Lincoln. William
Scott was a prisoner in his tent, expecting to be shot next day.

But the flaps of his tent were parted, and Lincoln stood before
him. Scott said:

"The President was the kindest man I had ever seen; I knew him at
once by a Lincoln medal I had long worn.

"I was scared at first, for I had never before talked with a
great man; but Mr. Lincoln was so easy with me, so gentle, that I
soon forgot my fright.

"He asked me all about the people at home, the neighbors, the
farm, and where I went to school, and who my schoolmates were.
Then he asked me about mother and how she looked; and I was glad
I could take her photograph from my bosom and show it to him.

"He said how thankful I ought to be that my mother still lived,
and how, if he were in my place, he would try to make her a proud
mother, and never cause her a sorrow or a tear.

"I cannot remember it all, but every word was so kind.

"He had said nothing yet about that dreadful next morning; I
thought it must be that he was so kind-hearted that he didn't
like to speak of it.

"But why did he say so much about my mother, and my not causing
her a sorrow or a tear, when I knew that I must die the next

"But I supposed that was something that would have to go
unexplained; and so I determined to brace up and tell him that I
did not feel a bit guilty, and ask him wouldn't he fix it so that
the firing party would not be from our regiment.

"That was going to be the hardest of all--to die by the hands of
my comrades.

"Just as I was going to ask him this favor, he stood up, and he
says to me:

"'My boy, stand up here and look me in the face.'

"I did as he bade me.

"'My boy,' he said, 'you are not going to be shot to-morrow. I
believe you when you tell me that you could not keep awake.

"'I am going to trust you, and send you back to your regiment.

"'But I have been put to a good deal of trouble on your account.

"'I have had to come up here from Washington when I have got a
great deal to do; and what I want to know is, how are you going
to pay my bill?'

"There was a big lump in my throat; I could scarcely speak. I had
expected to die, you see, and had kind of got used to thinking
that way.

"To have it all changed in a minute! But I got it crowded down,
and managed to say:

"'I am grateful, Mr. Lincoln! I hope I am as grateful as ever a
man can be to you for saving my life.

"'But it comes upon me sudden and unexpected like. I didn't lay
out for it at all; but there is some way to pay you, and I will
find it after a little.

"'There is the bounty in the savings bank; I guess we could
borrow some money on the mortgage of the farm.'

"'There was my pay was something, and if he would wait until
pay-day I was sure the boys would help; so I thought we could
make it up if it wasn't more than five or six hundred dollars.

"'But it is a great deal more than that,' he said.

"Then I said I didn't just see how, but I was sure I would find
some way--if I lived.

"Then Mr. Lincoln put his hands on my shoulders, and looked into
my face as if he was sorry, and said; "'My boy, my bill is a very
large one. Your friends cannot pay it, nor your bounty, nor the
farm, nor all your comrades!

"'There is only one man in all the world who can pay it, and his
name is William Scott!

"'If from this day William Scott does his duty, so that, if I
was there when he comes to die, he can look me in the face as he
does now, and say, I have kept my promise, and I have done my
duty as a soldier, then my debt will be paid.

"'Will you make that promise and try to keep it?"

The promise was given. Thenceforward there never was such a
soldier as William Scott.

This is the record of the end. It was after one of the awful
battles of the Peninsula. He was shot all to pieces. He said:

"Boys, I shall never see another battle. I supposed this would be
my last. I haven't much to say.

"You all know what you can tell them at home about me.

"I have tried to do the right thing! If any of you ever have the
chance I wish you would tell President Lincoln that I have never
forgotten the kind words he said to me at the Chain Bridge; that
I have tried to be a good soldier and true to the flag; that I
should have paid my whole debt to him if I had lived; and that
now, when I know that I am dying, I think of his kind face, and
thank him again, because he gave me the chance to fall like a
soldier in battle, and not like a coward, by the hands of my

What wonder that Secretary Stanton said, as he gazed upon the
tall form and kindly face as he lay there, smitten down by the
assassin's bullet, "There lies the most perfect ruler of men who
ever lived."


One day during the Black Hawk War a poor old Indian came into the
camp with a paper of safe conduct from General Lewis Cass in his
possession. The members of Lincoln's company were greatly
exasperated by late Indian barbarities, among them the horrible
murder of a number of women and children, and were about to kill
him; they said the safe-conduct paper was a forgery, and
approached the old savage with muskets cocked to shoot him.

Lincoln rushed forward, struck up the weapons with his hands, and
standing in front of the victim, declared to the Indian that he
should not be killed. It was with great difficulty that the men
could be kept from their purpose, but the courage and firmness of
Lincoln thwarted them.

Lincoln was physically one of the bravest of men, as his company


Frank P. Blair, of Chicago, tells an incident, showing Mr.
Lincoln's love for children and how thoroughly he entered into
all of their sports:

"During the war my grandfather, Francis P. Blair, Sr., lived at
Silver Springs, north of Washington, seven miles from the White
House. It was a magnificent place of four or five hundred acres,
with an extensive lawn in the rear of the house. The
grandchildren gathered there frequently.

There were eight or ten of us, our ages ranging from eight to
twelve years. Although I was but seven or eight years of age, Mr.
Lincoln's visits were of such importance to us boys as to leave a
clear impression on my memory. He drove out to the place quite
frequently. We boys, for hours at a time played 'town ball' on
the vast lawn, and Mr. Lincoln would join ardently in the sport.
I remember vividly how he ran with the children; how long were
his strides, and how far his coat-tails stuck out behind, and how
we tried to hit him with the ball, as he ran the bases. He
entered into the spirit of the play as completely as any of us,
and we invariably hailed his coming with delight."


A man called upon the President and solicited a pass for

"Well," said the President, "I would be very happy to oblige, if
my passes were respected; but the fact is, sir, I have, within
the past two years, given passes to two hundred and fifty
thousand men to go to Richmond, and not one has got there yet."

The applicant quietly and respectfully withdrew on his tiptoes.


A certain United States Senator, who believed that every man who
believed in secession should be hanged, asked the President what
he intended to do when the War was over.

"Reconstruct the machinery of this Government," quickly replied

"You are certainly crazy," was the Senator's heated response.
"You talk as if treason was not henceforth to be made odious, but
that the traitors, cutthroats and authors of this War should not
only go unpunished, but receive encouragement to repeat their
treason with impunity! They should be hanged higher than Haman,
sir! Yes, higher than any malefactor the world has ever known!"

The President was entirely unmoved, but, after a moment's pause,
put a question which all but drove his visitor insane.

"Now, Senator, suppose that when this hanging arrangement has
been agreed upon, you accept the post of Chief Executioner. If
you will take the office, I will make you a brigadier general and
Public Hangman for the United States. That would just about suit
you, wouldn't it?"

"I am a gentleman, sir," returned the Senator, "and I certainly
thought you knew me better than to believe me capable of doing
such dirty work. You are jesting, Mr. President."

The President was extremely patient, exhibiting no signs of ire,
and to this bit of temper on the part of the Senator responded:

"You speak of being a gentleman; yet you forget that in this free
country all men are equal, the vagrant and the gentleman standing
on the same ground when it comes to rights and duties,
particularly in time of war. Therefore, being a gentleman, as you
claim, and a law-abiding citizen, I trust, you are not exempt
from doing even the dirty work at which your high spirit

This was too much for the Senator, who quitted the room abruptly,
and never again showed his face in the White House while Lincoln
occupied it.

"He won't bother me again," was the President's remark as he


Lincoln was a very quiet man, and went about his business in a
quiet way, making the least noise possible. He heartily disliked
those boisterous people who were constantly deluging him with
advice, and shouting at the tops of their voices whenever they
appeared at the White House. "These noisy people create a great
clamor," said he one day, in conversation with some personal
friends, "and remind me, by the way, of a good story I heard out
in Illinois while I was practicing, or trying to practice, some
law there. I will say, though, that I practiced more law than I
ever got paid for.

"A fellow who lived just out of town, on the bank of a large
marsh, conceived a big idea in the money-making line. He took it
to a prominent merchant, and began to develop his plans and
specifications. 'There are at least ten million frogs in that
marsh near me, an' I'll just arrest a couple of carloads of them
and hand them over to you. You can send them to the big cities
and make lots of money for both of us. Frogs' legs are great
delicacies in the big towns, an' not very plentiful. It won't
take me more'n two or three days to pick 'em. They make so much
noise my family can't sleep, and by this deal I'll get rid of a
nuisance and gather in some cash.'

"The merchant agreed to the proposition, promised the fellow he
would pay him well for the two carloads. Two days passed, then
three, and finally two weeks were gone before the fellow showed
up again, carrying a small basket. He looked weary and 'done up,'
and he wasn't talkative a bit. He threw the basket on the counter
with the remark, 'There's your frogs.'

"'You haven't two carloads in that basket, have you?' inquired
the merchant.

"'No,' was the reply, 'and there ain't no two carloads in all
this blasted world.'

"'I thought you said there were at least ten millions of 'em in
that marsh near you, according to the noise they made,' observed
the merchant. 'Your people couldn't sleep because of 'em.'

"'Well,' said the fellow, 'accordin' to the noise they made,
there was, I thought, a hundred million of 'em, but when I had
waded and swum that there marsh day and night fer two blessed
weeks, I couldn't harvest but six. There's two or three left yet,
an' the marsh is as noisy as it uster be. We haven't catched up
on any of our lost sleep yet. Now, you can have these here six,
an' I won't charge you a cent fer 'em.'

"You can see by this little yarn," remarked the President, "that
these boisterous people make too much noise in proportion to
their numbers."


Being asked one time by an "anxious" visitor as to what he would
do in certain contingencies--provided the rebellion was not
subdued after three or four years of effort on the part of the

"Oh," replied the President, "there is no alternative but to keep
'pegging' away!"


After the issue of the Emancipation Proclamation, Governor
Morgan, of New York, was at the White House one day, when the
President said:

"I do not agree with those who say that slavery is dead. We are
like whalers who have been long on a chase--we have at last got
the harpoon into the monster, but we must now look how we steer,
or, with one 'flop' of his tail, he will yet send us all into


President Lincoln was depicted as a headsman in a cartoon printed
in "Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper," on February 14, 1863,
the title of the picture being "Lincoln's Dreams; or, There's a
Good Time Coming."

The cartoon, reproduced here, represents, on the right, the Union
Generals who had been defeated by the Confederates in battle, and
had suffered decapitation in consequence--McDowell, who lost at
Bull Run; McClellan, who failed to take Richmond, when within
twelve miles of that city and no opposition, comparatively; and
Burnside, who was so badly whipped at Fredericksburg. To the left
of the block, where the President is standing with the bloody axe
in his hand, are shown the members of the Cabinet--Secretary of
State Seward, Secretary of War Stanton, Secretary of the Navy
Welles, and others--each awaiting his turn. This part of the
"Dream" was never realized, however, as the President did not
decapitate any of his Cabinet officers.

It was the idea of the cartoonist to hold Lincoln up as a man who
would not countenance failure upon the part of subordinates, but
visit the severest punishment upon those commanders who did not
win victories. After Burnside's defeat at Fredericksburg, he was
relieved by Hooker, who suffered disaster at Chancellorsville;
Hooker was relieved by Meade, who won at Gettysburg, but was
refused promotion because he did not follow up and crush Lee;
Rosecrans was all but defeated at Chickamauga, and gave way to
Grant, who, of all the Union commanders, had never suffered
defeat. Grant was Lincoln's ideal fighting man, and the "Old
Commander" was never superseded.


Dr. Hovey, of Dansville, New York, thought he would call and see
the President.

Upon arriving at the White House he found the President on
horseback, ready for a start.

Approaching him, he said:

"President Lincoln, I thought I would call and see you before
leaving the city, and hear you tell a story."

The President greeted him pleasantly, and asked where he was

"From Western New York."

"Well, that's a good enough country without stories," replied the
President, and off he rode.


Lincoln's habits at the White House were as simple as they were
at his old home in Illinois.

He never alluded to himself as "President," or as occupying "the

His office he always designated as "the place."

"Call me Lincoln," said he to a friend; "Mr. President" had
become so very tiresome to him.

"If you see a newsboy down the street, send him up this way,"
said he to a passenger, as he stood waiting for the morning news
at his gate.

Friends cautioned him about exposing himself so openly in the
midst of enemies; but he never heeded them.

He frequently walked the streets at night, entirely unprotected;
and felt any check upon his movements a great annoyance.

He delighted to see his familiar Western friends; and he gave
them always a cordial welcome.

He met them on the old footing, and fell at once into the
accustomed habits of talk and story-telling.

An old acquaintance, with his wife, visited Washington. Mr. and
Mrs. Lincoln proposed to these friends a ride in the Presidential

It should be stated in advance that the two men had probably
never seen each other with gloves on in their lives, unless when
they were used as protection from the cold.

The question of each--Lincoln at the White House, and his friend
at the hotel--was, whether he should wear gloves.

Of course the ladies urged gloves; but Lincoln only put his in
his pocket, to be used or not, according to the circumstances.

When the Presidential party arrived at the hotel, to take in
their friends, they found the gentleman, overcome by his wife's
persuasions, very handsomely gloved.

The moment he took his seat he began to draw off the clinging
kids, while Lincoln began to draw his on!

"No! no! no!" protested his friend, tugging at his gloves. "It is
none of my doings; put up your gloves, Mr. Lincoln."

So the two old friends were on even and easy terms, and had their
ride after their old fashion.


President Lincoln was reading the draft of a speech. Edward, the
conservative but dignified butler of the White House, was seen
struggling with Tad and trying to drag him back from the window
from which was waving a Confederate flag, captured in some fight
and given to the boy. Edward conquered and Tad, rushing to find
his father, met him coming forward to make, as it proved, his
last speech.

The speech began with these words, "We meet this evening, not in
sorrow, but in gladness of heart." Having his speech written in
loose leaves, and being compelled to hold a candle in the other
hand, he would let the loose leaves drop to the floor one by one.
"Tad" picked them up as they fell, and impatiently called for
more as they fell from his father's hand.


President Lincoln, while entertaining a few select friends, is
said to have related the following anecdote of a man who knew too

He was a careful, painstaking fellow, who always wanted to be
absolutely exact, and as a result he frequently got the ill-will
of his less careful superiors.

During the administration of President Jackson there was a
singular young gentleman employed in the Public Postoffice in

His name was G.; he was from Tennessee, the son of a widow, a
neighbor of the President, on which account the old hero had a
kind feeling for him, and always got him out of difficulties with
some of the higher officials, to whom his singular interference
was distasteful.

Among other things, it is said of him that while employed in the
General Postoffice, on one occasion he had to copy a letter to
Major H., a high official, in answer to an application made by an
old gentleman in Virginia or Pennsylvania, for the establishment
of a new postoffice.

The writer of the letter said the application could not be
granted, in consequence of the applicant's "proximity" to another

When the letter came into G.'s hand to copy, being a great
stickler for plainness, he altered "proximity" to "nearness to."

Major H. observed it, and asked G. why he altered his letter.

"Why," replied G., "because I don't think the man would
understand what you mean by proximity."

"Well," said Major H., "try him; put in the 'proximity' again."

In a few days a letter was received from the applicant, in which
he very indignantly said that his father had fought for liberty
in the second war for independence, and he should like to have
the name of the scoundrel who brought the charge of proximity or
anything else wrong against him.

"There," said G., "did I not say so?"

G. carried his improvements so far that Mr. Berry, the
Postmaster-General, said to him: "I don't want you any longer;
you know too much."

Poor G. went out, but his old friend got him another place.

This time G.'s ideas underwent a change. He was one day very busy
writing, when a stranger called in and asked him where the Patent
Office was.

"I don't know," said G.

"Can you tell me where the Treasury Department is?" said the
stranger. "No," said G.

'Nor the President's house?"


The stranger finally asked him if he knew where the Capitol was.

"No," replied G.

"Do you live in Washington, sir?"

"Yes, sir," said G.

"Good Lord! and don't you know where the Patent Office, Treasury,
President's house and Capitol are?"

"Stranger," said G., "I was turned out of the postoffice for
knowing too much. I don't mean to offend in that way again.

"I am paid for keeping this book.

"I believe I know that much; but if you find me knowing anything
more you may take my head."

"Good morning," said the stranger.


"That every man may receive at least a moderate education, and
thereby be enabled to read the histories of his own and other
countries, by which he may duly appreciate the value of our free
institutions, appears to be an object of vital importance; even
on this account alone, to say nothing of the advantages and
satisfaction to be derived from all being able to read the
Scriptures and other works, both of a religious and moral nature,
for themselves.

"For my part, I desire to see the time when education, by its
means, morality, sobriety, enterprise and integrity, shall become
much more general than at present, and should be gratified to
have it in my power to contribute something to the advancement of
any measure which might have a tendency to accelerate the happy


In a speech at Springfield, Illinois, June 26th, 1857, Lincoln
referred to the decision of Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, of the
United States Supreme Court, in the Dred Scott case, in this

"The Chief justice does not directly assert, but plainly assumes
as a fact, that the public estimate of the black man is more
favorable now than it was in the days of the Revolution.

"In those days, by common consent, the spread of the black man's
bondage in the new countries was prohibited; but now Congress
decides that it will not continue the prohibition, and the
Supreme Court decides that it could not if it would.

"In those days, our Declaration of Independence was held sacred
by all, and thought to include all; but now, to aid in making the
bondage of the negro universal and eternal, it is assailed and
sneered at, and constructed and hawked at, and torn, till, if its
framers could rise from their graves, they could not at all
recognize it.

"All the powers of earth seem combining against the slave; Mammon
is after him, ambition follows, philosophy follows, and the
theology of the day is fast joining the cry."


Abraham Lincoln made many notable addresses and speeches during
his career previous to the time of his election to the

However, beautiful in thought and expression as they were, they
were not appreciated by those who heard and read them until after
the people of the United States and the world had come to
understand the man who delivered them.

Lincoln had the rare and valuable faculty of putting the most
sublime feeling into his speeches; and he never found it
necessary to incumber his wisest, wittiest and most famous
sayings with a weakening mass of words.

He put his thoughts into the simplest language, so that all might
comprehend, and he never said anything which was not full of the
deepest meaning.


Mr. Roland Diller, who was one of Mr. Lincoln's neighbors in
Springfield, tells the following:

"I was called to the door one day by the cries of children in the
street, and there was Mr. Lincoln, striding by with two of his
boys, both of whom were wailing aloud. 'Why, Mr. Lincoln, what's
the matter with the boys?' I asked.

"'Just what's the matter with the whole world,' Lincoln replied.
'I've got three walnuts, and each wants two.'"


One of the prettiest incidents in the closing days of the Civil
War occurred when the troops, 'marching home again,' passed in
grand form, if with well-worn uniforms and tattered bunting,
before the White House.

Naturally, an immense crowd had assembled on the streets, the
lawns, porches, balconies, and windows, even those of the
executive mansion itself being crowded to excess. A central
figure was that of the President, Abraham Lincoln, who, with
bared head, unfurled and waved our Nation's flag in the midst of
lusty cheers.

But suddenly there was an unexpected sight.

A small boy leaned forward and sent streaming to the air the
banner of the boys in gray. It was an old flag which had been
captured from the Confederates, and which the urchin, the
President's second son, Tad, had obtained possession of and
considered an additional triumph to unfurl on this all-important

Vainly did the servant who had followed him to the window plead
with him to desist. No, Master Tad, Pet of the White House, was
not to be prevented from adding to the loyal demonstration of the

To his surprise, however, the crowd viewed it differently. Had it
floated from any other window in the capital that day, no doubt
it would have been the target of contempt and abuse; but when the
President, understanding what had happened, turned, with a smile
on his grand, plain face, and showed his approval by a gesture
and expression, cheer after cheer rent the air.


President Lincoln attended a Ladies' Fair for the benefit of the
Union soldiers, at Washington, March 16th, 1864.

In his remarks he said:

"I appear to say but a word.

"This extraordinary war in which we are engaged falls heavily
upon all classes of people, but the most heavily upon the
soldiers. For it has been said, 'All that a man hath will he give
for his life,' and, while all contribute of their substance, the
soldier puts his life at stake, and often yields it up in his
country's cause.

"The highest merit, then, is due the soldiers.

"In this extraordinary war extraordinary developments have
manifested themselves such as have not been seen in former wars;
and among these manifestations nothing has been more remarkable
than these fairs for the relief of suffering soldiers and their
families, and the chief agents in these fairs are the women of

"I am not accustomed to the use of language of eulogy; I have
never studied the art of paying compliments to women; but I must
say that if all that has been said by orators and poets since the
creation of the world in praise of women were applied to the
women of America, it would not do them justice for their conduct
during the war.

"I will close by saying, God bless the women of America!"


After the United States had enlisted former negro slaves as
soldiers to fight alongside the Northern troops for the
maintenance of the integrity of the Union, so great was the
indignation of the Confederate Government that President Davis
declared he would not recognize blacks captured in battle and in
uniform as prisoners of war. This meant that he would have them
returned to their previous owners, have them flogged and fined
for running away from their masters, or even shot if he felt like
it. This attitude of the President of the Confederate States of
America led to the promulgation of President Lincoln's famous
"Order No. 252," which, in effect, was a notification to the
commanding officers of the Southern forces that if negro
prisoners of war were not treated as such, the Union commanders
would retaliate. "Harper's Weekly" of August 15th, 1863,
contained a clever cartoon, which we reproduce, representing
President Lincoln holding the South by the collar, while "Old
Abe" shouts the following words of warning to Jeff Davis, who,
cat-o'-nine-tails in hand, is in pursuit of a terrified little
negro boy:

MR. LINCOLN: "Look here, Jeff Davis! If you lay a finger on that
boy, to hurt him, I'll lick this ugly cub of yours within an inch
of his life!"

Much to the surprise of the Confederates, the negro soldiers
fought valiantly; they were fearless when well led, obeyed orders
without hesitation, were amenable to discipline, and were eager
and anxious, at all times, to do their duty. In battle they were
formidable opponents, and in using the bayonet were the equal of
the best trained troops. The Southerners hated them beyond power
of expression.


The President walked through the streets of Richmond--without a
guard except a few seamen--in company with his son "Tad," and
Admiral Porter, on April 4th, 1865, the day following the
evacuation of the city.

Colored people gathered about him on every side, eager to see and
thank their liberator. Mr. Lincoln addressed the following
remarks to one of these gatherings:

"My poor friends, you are free--free as air. You can cast off the
name of slave and trample upon it; it will come to you no more.

"Liberty is your birthright. God gave it to you as He gave it to
others, and it is a sin that you have been deprived of it for so
many years.

"But you must try to deserve this priceless boon. Let the world
see that you merit it, and are able to maintain it by your good

"Don't let your joy carry you into excesses; learn the laws, and
obey them. Obey God's commandments, and thank Him for giving you
liberty, for to Him you owe all things.

"There, now, let me pass on; I have but little time to spare.

"I want to see the Capitol, and must return at once to Washington
to secure to you that liberty which you seem to prize so highly."


Lincoln fell in love with Miss Mary S. Owens about 1833 or so,
and, while she was attracted toward him she was not passionately
fond of him.

Lincoln's letter of proposal of marriage, sent by him to Miss
Owens, while singular, unique, and decidedly unconventional, was
certainly not very ardent. He, after the fashion of the lawyer,
presented the matter very cautiously, and pleaded his own cause;
then presented her side of the case, advised her not "to do it,"
and agreed to abide by her decision.

Miss Owens respected Lincoln, but promptly rejected him--really
very much to "Abe's" relief.


Not far from New Salem, Illinois, at a place called Clary's
Grove, a gang of frontier ruffians had established headquarters,
and the champion wrestler of "The Grove" was "Jack" Armstrong, a
bully of the worst type.

Learning that Abraham was something of a wrestler himself, "Jack"
sent him a challenge. At that time and in that community a
refusal would have resulted in social and business ostracism, not
to mention the stigma of cowardice which would attach.

It was a great day for New Salem and "The Grove" when Lincoln and
Armstrong met. Settlers within a radius of fifty miles flocked to
the scene, and the wagers laid were heavy and many. Armstrong
proved a weakling in the hands of the powerful Kentuckian, and
"Jack's" adherents were about to mob Lincoln when the latter's
friends saved him from probable death by rushing to the rescue.


The President was once speaking about an attack made on him by
the Congressional Committee on the Conduct of the War for a
certain alleged blunder in the Southwest--the matter involved
being one which had fallen directly under the observation of the
army officer to whom he was talking, who possessed official
evidence completely upsetting all the conclusions of the

"Might it not be well for me," queried the officer, "to set this
matter right in a letter to some paper, stating the facts as they
actually transpired?"

"Oh, no," replied the President, "at least, not now. If I were to
try to read, much less answer, all the attacks made on me, this
shop might as well be closed for any other business. I do the
very best I know how the very best I can; and I mean to keep
doing so until the end. If the end brings me out all right, what
is said against me won't amount to anything. If the end brings me
out wrong, ten thousand angels swearing I was right would make no


Ward Hill Lamon was President Lincoln's Cerberus, his watch dog,
guardian, friend, companion and confidant. Some days before
Lincoln's departure for Washington to be inaugurated, he wrote to
Lamon at Bloomington, that he desired to see him at once. He went
to Springfield, and Lincoln said:

"Hill, on the 11th I go to Washington, and I want you to go along
with me. Our friends have already asked me to send you as Consul
to Paris. You know I would cheerfully give you anything for which
our friends may ask or which you may desire, but it looks as if
we might have war.

"In that case I want you with me. In fact, I must have you. So
get yourself ready and come along. It will be handy to have you
around. If there is to be a fight, I want you to help me to do my
share of it, as you have done in times past. You must go, and go
to stay."

This is Lamon's version of it.


To a party who wished to be empowered to negotiate reward for
promises of influence in the Chicago Convention, 1860, Mr.
Lincoln replied:

"No, gentlemen; I have not asked the nomination, and I will not
now buy it with pledges.

"If I am nominated and elected, I shall not go into the
Presidency as the tool of this man or that man, or as the
property of any factor or clique."


After some very bad news had come in from the army in the field,
Lincoln remarked to Schuyler Colfax:

"How willingly would I exchange places to-day with the soldier
who sleeps on the ground in the Army of the Potomac!"


In the campaign of 1852, Lincoln, in reply to Douglas' speech,
wherein he spoke of confidence in Providence, replied: "Let us
stand by our candidate (General Scott) as faithfully as he has
always stood by our country, and I much doubt if we do not
perceive a slight abatement of Judge Douglas' confidence in
Providence as well as the people. I suspect that confidence is
not more firmly fixed with the judge than it was with the old
woman whose horse ran away with her in a buggy. She said she
'trusted in Providence till the britchen broke,' and then she
'didn't know what in airth to do.'"


Lincoln's great generosity to his leaders was shown when, in
January, 1863, he assigned "Fighting Joe" Hooker to the command
of the Army of the Potomac. Hooker had believed in a military
dictatorship, and it was an open secret that McClellan might have
become such had he possessed the nerve. Lincoln, however, was not
bothered by this prattle, as he did not think enough of it to
relieve McClellan of his command. The President said to Hooker:

"I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of your recently
saying that both the army and the Government needed a dictator.
Of course, it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I have
given you the command. Only those generals who gain success can
be dictators.

"What I now ask of you is military success, and I will risk the

Lincoln also believed Hooker had not given cordial support to
General Burnside when he was in command of the army. In Lincoln's
own peculiarly plain language, he told Hooker that he had done "a
great wrong to the country and to a most meritorious and
honorable brother officer."


At one time the President had the appointment of a large
additional number of brigadier and major generals. Among the
immense number of applications, Mr. Lincoln came upon one wherein
the claims of a certain worthy (not in the service at all), "for
a generalship" were glowingly set forth. But the applicant didn't
specify whether he wanted to be brigadier or major general.

The President observed this difficulty, and solved it by a lucid
indorsement. The clerk, on receiving the paper again, found
written across its back, "Major General, I reckon. A. Lincoln."


Judge Herndon, Lincoln's law partner, said that he never saw
Lincoln more cheerful than on the day previous to his departure
from Springfield for Washington, and Judge Gillespie, who visited
him a few days earlier, found him in excellent spirits.

"I told him that I believed it would do him good to get down to
Washington," said Herndon.

"I know it will," Lincoln replied. "I only wish I could have got
there to lock the door before the horse was stolen. But when I
get to the spot, I can find the tracks."


If all the days Lincoln attended school were added together, they
would not make a single year's time, and he never studied grammar
or geography or any of the higher branches. His first teacher in
Indiana was Hazel Dorsey, who opened a school in a log
schoolhouse a mile and a half from the Lincoln cabin. The
building had holes for windows, which were covered over with
greased paper to admit light. The roof was just high enough for a
man to stand erect. It did not take long to demonstrate that
"Abe" was superior to any scholar in his class. His next teacher
was Andrew Crawford, who taught in the winter of 1822-3, in the
same little schoolhouse. "Abe" was an excellent speller, and it
is said that he liked to show off his knowledge, especially if he
could help out his less fortunate schoolmates. One day the
teacher gave out the word "defied." A large class was on the
floor, but it seemed that no one would be able to spell it. The
teacher declared he would keep the whole class in all day and
night if "defied" was not spelled correctly.

When the word came around to Katy Roby, she was standing where
she could see young "Abe." She started, "d-e-f," and while trying
to decide whether to spell the word with an "i" or a "y," she
noticed that Abe had his finger on his eye and a smile on his
face, and instantly took the hint. She spelled the word correctly
and school was dismissed.


Lincoln never forgot anyone or anything.

At one of the afternoon receptions at the White House a stranger
shook hands with him, and, as he did so, remarked casually, that
he was elected to Congress about the time Mr. Lincoln's term as
representative expired, which happened many years before.

"Yes," said the President, "You are from--(mentioning the
State). "I remember reading of your election in a newspaper one
morning on a steamboat going down to Mount Vernon."

At another time a gentleman addressed him, saying, "I presume,
Mr, President, you have forgotten me?"

"No," was the prompt reply; "your name is Flood. I saw you last,
twelve years ago, at--" (naming the place and the occasion).

"I am glad to see," he continued, "that the Flood goes on."

Subsequent to his re-election a deputation of bankers from
various sections were introduced one day by the Secretary of the

After a few moments of general conversation, Lincoln turned to
one of them and said:

"Your district did not give me so strong a vote at the last
election as it did in 1860."

"I think, sir, that you must be mistaken," replied the banker. "I
have the impression that your majority was considerably increased
at the last election."

"No," rejoined the President, "you fell off about six hundred

Then taking down from the bookcase the official canvass of 1860
and 1864, he referred to the vote of the district named, and
proved to be quite right in his assertion.


As President Lincoln, arm in arm with ex-President Buchanan,
entered the Capitol, and passed into the Senate Chamber, filled
to overflowing with Senators, members of the Diplomatic Corps,
and visitors, the contrast between the two men struck every

"Mr. Buchanan was so withered and bowed with age," wrote George
W. Julian, of Indiana, who was among the spectators, "that in
contrast with the towering form of Mr. Lincoln he seemed little
more than half a man."


As soon as the result of the Presidential election of 1864 was
known, General Grant telegraphed from City Point his
congratulations, and added that "the election having passed off
quietly . . . is a victory worth more to the country than a
battle won."


London "Punch" persistently maintained throughout the War for the
Union that the question of what to do with the blacks was the
most bothersome of all the problems President Lincoln had to
solve. "Punch" thought the Rebellion had its origin in an effort
to determine whether there should or should not be slavery in the
United States, and was fought with this as the main end in view.
"Punch" of August 15th, 1863, contained the cartoon reproduced on
this page, the title being "Brutus and Caesar."

President Lincoln was pictured as Brutus, while the ghost of
Caesar, which appeared in the tent of the American Brutus during
the dark hours of the night, was represented in the shape of a
husky and anything but ghost-like African, whose complexion would
tend to make the blackest tar look like skimmed milk in
comparison. This was the text below the cartoon: (From the
American Edition of Shakespeare.) The Tent of Brutus (Lincoln).
Night. Enter the Ghost of Caesar.

BRUTUS: "Wall, now! Do tell! Who's you?"

CAESAR: "I am dy ebil genus, Massa Linking. Dis child am awful

"Punch's" cartoons were decidedly unfriendly in tone toward
President Lincoln, some of them being not only objectionable in
the display of bad taste, but offensive and vulgar. It is true
that after the assassination of the President, "Punch," in
illustrations, paid marked and deserved tribute to the memory of
the Great Emancipator, but it had little that was good to say of
him while he was among the living and engaged in carrying out the
great work for which he was destined to win eternal fame.


President Lincoln, well aware of Stanton's unfriendliness, was
surprised when Secretary of the Treasury Chase told him that
Stanton had expressed the opinion that the arrest of the
Confederate Commissioners, Mason and Slidell, was legal and
justified by international law. The President asked Secretary
Chase to invite Stanton to the White House, and Stanton came. Mr.
Lincoln thanked him for the opinion he had expressed, and asked
him to put it in writing.

Stanton complied, the President read it carefully, and, after
putting it away, astounded Stanton by offering him the portfolio
of War. Stanton was a Democrat, had been one of the President's
most persistent vilifiers, and could not realize, at first, that
Lincoln meant what he said. He managed, however to say:

"I am both surprised and embarrassed, Mr. President, and would
ask a couple of days to consider this most important matter."

Lincoln fully understood what was going on in Stanton's mind, and
then said:

"This is a very critical period in the life of the nation, Mr.
Stanton, as you are well aware, and I well know you are as much
interested in sustaining the government as myself or any other
man. This is no time to consider mere party issues. The life of
the nation is in danger. I need the best counsellors around me. I
have every confidence in your judgment, and have concluded to ask
you to become one of my counsellors. The office of the Secretary
of War will soon be vacant, and I am anxious to have you take Mr.
Cameron's place."

Stanton decided to accept.


"Abe" Lincoln's father was never at loss for an answer. An old
neighbor of Thomas Lincoln--"Abe's" father--was passing the
Lincoln farm one day, when he saw "Abe's" father grubbing up some
hazelnut bushes, and said to him: "Why, Grandpap, I thought you
wanted to sell your farm?"

"And so I do," he replied, "but I ain't goin' to let my farm know

"'Abe's' jes' like his father," the old ones would say.


One of the most notable of Lincoln's law cases was that in which
he defended William D. Armstrong, charged with murder. The case
was one which was watched during its progress with intense
interest, and it had a most dramatic ending.

The defendant was the son of Jack and Hannah Armstrong. The
father was dead, but Hannah, who had been very motherly and
helpful to Lincoln during his life at New Salem, was still
living, and asked Lincoln to defend him. Young Armstrong had been
a wild lad, and was often in bad company.

The principal witness had sworn that he saw young Armstrong
strike the fatal blow, the moon being very bright at the time.

Lincoln brought forward the almanac, which showed that at the
time the murder was committed there was no moon at all. In his
argument, Lincoln's speech was so feelingly made that at its
close all the men in the jury-box were in tears. It was just half
an hour when the jury returned a verdict of acquittal.

Lincoln would accept no fee except the thanks of the anxious


Lincoln's reading in his early days embraced a wide range. He was
particularly fond of all stories containing fun, wit and humor,
and every one of these he came across he learned by heart, thus
adding to his personal store.

He improved as a reciter and retailer of the stories he had read
and heard, and as the reciter of tales of his own invention, and
he had ready and eager auditors.

Judge Herndon, in his "Abraham Lincoln," relates that as a mimic
Lincoln was unequalled. An old neighbor said: "His laugh was
striking. Such awkward gestures belonged to no other man. They
attracted universal attention, from the old and sedate down to
the schoolboy. Then, in a few moments, he was as calm and
thoughtful as a judge on the bench, and as ready to give advice
on the most important matters; fun and gravity grew on him


During the year Lincoln was in Denton Offutt's store at New
Salem, that gentleman, whose business was somewhat widely and
unwisely spread about the country, ceased to prosper in his
finances and finally failed. The store was shut up, the mill was
closed, and Abraham Lincoln was out of business.

The year had been one of great advance, in many respects. He had
made new and valuable acquaintances, read many books, mastered
the grammar of his own tongue, won multitudes of friends, and
became ready for a step still further in advance.

Those who could appreciate brains respected him, and those whose
ideas of a man related to his muscles were devoted to him. It was
while he was performing the work of the store that he acquired
the sobriquet of "Honest Abe"--a characterization he never
dishonored, and an abbreviation that he never outgrew.

He was judge, arbitrator, referee, umpire, authority, in all
disputes, games and matches of man-flesh, horse-flesh, a
pacificator in all quarrels; everybody's friend; the
best-natured, the most sensible, the best-informed, the most
modest and unassuming, the kindest, gentlest, roughest,
strongest, best fellow in all New Salem and the region round


Enduring friendship and love of old associations were prominent
characteristics of President Lincoln. When about to leave
Springfield for Washington, he went to the dingy little law
office which had sheltered his saddest hours.

He sat down on the couch, and said to his law partner, Judge

"Billy, you and I have been together for more than twenty years,
and have never passed a word. Will you let my name stay on the
old sign until I come back from Washington?"

The tears started to Herndon's eyes. He put out his hand. "Mr.
Lincoln," said he, "I never will have any other partner while you
live"; and to the day of assassination, all the doings of the
firm were in the name of "Lincoln & Herndon."


Early in January, 1861, Colonel Alex. K. McClure, of
Philadelphia, received a telegram from President-elect Lincoln,
asking him (McClure) to visit him at Springfield, Illinois.
Colonel McClure described his disappointment at first sight of
Lincoln in these words:

"I went directly from the depot to Lincoln's house and rang the
bell, which was answered by Lincoln himself opening the door. I
doubt whether a wholly concealed my disappointment at meeting

"Tall, gaunt, ungainly, ill clad, with a homeliness of manner
that was unique in itself, I confess that my heart sank within me
as I remembered that this was the man chosen by a great nation to
become its ruler in the gravest period of its history.

"I remember his dress as if it were but yesterday--snuff-colored
and slouchy pantaloons, open black vest, held by a few brass
buttons; straight or evening dresscoat, with tightly fitting
sleeves to exaggerate his long, bony arms, and all supplemented
by an awkwardness that was uncommon among men of intelligence.

"Such was the picture I met in the person of Abraham Lincoln. We
sat down in his plainly furnished parlor, and were uninterrupted
during the nearly four hours that I remained with him, and little
by little, as his earnestness, sincerity and candor were
developed in conversation, I forgot all the grotesque qualities
which so confounded me when I first greeted him."


"If a man is honest in his mind," said Lincoln one day, long
before he became President, "you are pretty safe in trusting


"Abe's" nephew--or one of them--related a story in connection
with Lincoln's first love (Anne Rutledge), and his subsequent
marriage to Miss Mary Todd. This nephew was a plain, every-day
farmer, and thought everything of his uncle, whose greatness he
quite thoroughly appreciated, although he did not pose to any
extreme as the relative of a President of the United States.

Said he one day, in telling his story:

"Us child'en, w'en we heerd Uncle 'Abe' wuz a-goin' to be
married, axed Gran'ma ef Uncle 'Abe' never hed hed a gal afore,
an' she says, sez she, 'Well, "Abe" wuz never a han' nohow to run
'round visitin' much, or go with the gals, neither, but he did
fall in love with a Anne Rutledge, who lived out near
Springfield, an' after she died he'd come home an' ev'ry time
he'd talk 'bout her, he cried dreadful. He never could talk of
her nohow 'thout he'd jes' cry an' cry, like a young feller.'

"Onct he tol' Gran'ma they wuz goin' ter be hitched, they havin'
promised each other, an' thet is all we ever heered 'bout it.
But, so it wuz, that arter Uncle 'Abe' hed got over his mournin',
he wuz married ter a woman w'ich hed lived down in Kentuck.

"Uncle 'Abe' hisself tol' us he wuz married the nex' time he come
up ter our place, an' w'en we ast him why he didn't bring his
wife up to see us, he said: 'She's very busy and can't come.'

"But we knowed better'n that. He wuz too proud to bring her
up,'cause nothin' would suit her, nohow. She wuzn't raised the
way we wuz, an' wuz different from us, and we heerd, tu, she wuz
as proud as cud be.

"No, an' he never brought none uv the child'en, neither.

"But then, Uncle 'Abe,' he wuzn't to blame. We never thought he
wuz stuck up."


Replying to an editorial written by Horace Greeley, the President

"My paramount object is to save the Union, and not either to save
or to destroy slavery.

"If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do

"If I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do it; and
if I could do it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I
would also do that.

"What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I
believe it helps to save this Union; and what I forbear, I
forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union.

"I shall do less whenever I shall believe what I am doing hurts
the cause, and I shall do more whenever I believe doing more will
help the cause."


One of President Lincoln's friends, visiting at the White House,
was finding considerable fault with the constant agitation in
Congress of the slavery question. He remarked that, after the
adoption of the Emancipation policy, he had hoped for something

"There was a man down in Maine," said the President, in reply,
"who kept a grocery store, and a lot of fellows used to loaf
around for their toddy. He only gave 'em New England rum, and
they drank pretty considerable of it. But after awhile they began
to get tired of that, and kept asking for something new--
something new--all the time. Well, one night, when the whole
crowd were around, the grocer brought out his glasses, and says
he, 'I've got something New for you to drink, boys, now.'

"'Honor bright?' said they.

"'Honor bright,' says he, and with that he sets out a jug.
'Thar' says he, 'that's something new; it's New England rum!'
says he.

"Now," remarked the President, in conclusion, "I guess we're a
good deal like that crowd, and Congress is a good deal like that


When Mr. Lincoln was quite a small boy he met with an accident
that almost cost him his life. He was saved by Austin Gollaher, a
young playmate. Mr. Gollaher lived to be more than ninety years
of age, and to the day of his death related with great pride his
boyhood association with Lincoln.

"Yes," Mr. Gollaher once said, "the story that I once saved
Abraham Lincoln's life is true. He and I had been going to school
together for a year or more, and had become greatly attached to
each other. Then school disbanded on account of there being so
few scholars, and we did not see each other much for a long

"One Sunday my mother visited the Lincolns, and I was taken
along. 'Abe' and I played around all day. Finally, we concluded
to cross the creek to hunt for some partridges young Lincoln had
seen the day before. The creek was swollen by a recent rain, and,
in crossing on the narrow footlog, 'Abe' fell in. Neither of us
could swim. I got a long pole and held it out to 'Abe,' who
grabbed it. Then I pulled him ashore.

"He was almost dead, and I was badly scared. I rolled and pounded
him in good earnest. Then I got him by the arms and shook him,
the water meanwhile pouring out of his mouth. By this means I
succeeded in bringing him to, and he was soon all right.

"Then a new difficulty confronted us. If our mothers discovered
our wet clothes they would whip us. This we dreaded from
experience, and determined to avoid. It was June, the sun was
very warm, and we soon dried our clothing by spreading it on the
rocks about us. We promised never to tell the story, and I never
did until after Lincoln's tragic end."


In conversation with some friends at the White House on New
Year's evening, 1863, President Lincoln said, concerning his
Emancipation Proclamation

"The signature looks a little tremulous, for my hand was tired,
but my resolution was firm.

"I told them in September, if they did not return to their
allegiance, and cease murdering our soldiers, I would strike at
this pillar of their strength.

"And now the promise shall be kept, and not one word of it will I
ever recall."


During the time the enemies of General Grant were making their
bitterest attacks upon him, and demanding that the President
remove him from command, "Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper,"
of June 13, 1863, came out with the cartoon reproduced. The text
printed under the picture was to the following effect:

OLD ABE: "Greeley be hanged! I want no more new brooms. I begin
to think that the worst thing about my old ones was in not being
handled right."

The old broom the President holds in his right hand is labeled
"Grant." The latter had captured Fort Donelson, defeated the
Confederates at Shiloh, Iuka, Port Gibson, and other places, and
had Vicksburg in his iron grasp. When the demand was made that
Lincoln depose Grant, the President answered, "I can't spare this
man; he fights!" Grant never lost a battle and when he found the
enemy he always fought him. McClellan, Burnside, Pope and Hooker
had been found wanting, so Lincoln pinned his faith to Grant. As
noted in the cartoon, Horace Greeley, editor of the New York
Tribune, Thurlow Weed, and others wanted Lincoln to try some
other new brooms, but President Lincoln was wearied with defeats,
and wanted a few victories to offset them. Therefore; he stood by
Grant, who gave him victories.


Abraham Lincoln
his hand and pen
he will be good
but god Knows When

These lines were found written in young Lincoln's own hand at the
bottom of a page whereon he had been ciphering. Lincoln always
wrote a clear, regular "fist." In this instance he evidently did
not appreciate the sacredness of the name of the Deity, when he
used a little "g."

Lincoln once said he did not remember the time when he could not


It was the custom in Sangamon for the "menfolks" to gather at
noon and in the evening, when resting, in a convenient lane near
the mill. They had rolled out a long peeled log, on which they
lounged while they whittled and talked.

Lincoln had not been long in Sangamon before he joined this
circle. At once he became a favorite by his jokes and good-humor.
As soon as he appeared at the assembly ground the men would start
him to story-telling. So irresistibly droll were his "yarns" that
whenever he'd end up in his unexpected way the boys on the log
would whoop and roll off. The result of the rolling off was to
polish the log like a mirror. The men, recognizing Lincoln's part
in this polishing, christened their seat "Abe's log."

Long after Lincoln had disappeared from Sangamon, "Abe's log"
remained, and until it had rotted away people pointed it out, and
repeated the droll stories of the stranger.


President Lincoln, in company with General Grant, was inspecting
the Dutch Gap Canal at City Point. "Grant, do you know what this
reminds me of? Out in Springfield, Ill., there was a blacksmith
who, not having much to do, took a piece of soft iron and
attempted to weld it into an agricultural implement, but
discovered that the iron would not hold out; then he concluded it
would make a claw hammer; but having too much iron, attempted to
make an ax, but decided after working awhile that there was not
enough iron left. Finally, becoming disgusted, he filled the
forge full of coal and brought the iron to a white heat; then
with his tongs he lifted it from the bed of coals, and thrusting
it into a tub of water near by, exclaimed: 'Well, if I can't make
anything else of you, I will make a fizzle, anyhow.'" "I was
afraid that was about what we had done with the Dutch Gap Canal,"
said General Grant.


When Lincoln was in the Black Hawk War as captain, the volunteer
soldiers drank in with delight the jests and stories of the tall
captain. Aesop's Fables were given a new dress, and the tales of
the wild adventures that he had brought from Kentucky and Indiana
were many, but his inspiration was never stimulated by recourse
to the whisky jug.

When his grateful and delighted auditors pressed this on him he
had one reply: "Thank you, I never drink it."


President Lincoln was passing down Pennsylvania avenue in
Washington one day, when a man came running after him, hailed
him, and thrust a bundle of papers in his hands.

It angered him not a little, and he pitched the papers back,
saying, "I'm not going to open shop here."


Lincoln delivered a remarkable speech at Springfield, Illinois,
when but twenty-eight years of age, upon the liberty possessed by
the people of the United States.

In part, he said:

"In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the
American people, find our account running under date of the
nineteenth century of the Christian era.

"We find ourselves in the peaceful possession of the fairest
portion of the earth as regards extent of territory, fertility of
soil, and salubrity of climate.

"We find ourselves under the government of a system of political
institutions conducing more essentially to the ends of civil and
religious liberty than any of which history of former times tells

"We, when mounting the stage of existence, found ourselves the
legal inheritors of these fundamental blessings.

"We toiled not in the acquisition or establishment of them; they
are a legacy bequeathed to us by a once hardy, brave, and
patriotic, but now lamented and departed race of ancestors.

"Theirs was the task (and nobly did they perform it) to possess
themselves, us, of this goodly land, to uprear upon its hills and
valleys a political edifice of liberty and equal rights; 'tis
ours to transmit these--the former unprofaned by the foot of an
intruder, the latter undecayed by the lapse of time and untorn by
usurpation--to the generation that fate shall permit the world to

"This task, gratitude to our fathers, justice to ourselves, duty
to posterity--all imperatively require us faithfully to perform.

"How, then, shall we perform it? At what point shall we expect
the approach of danger?

"Shall we expect some trans-Atlantic military giant to step the
ocean and crush us at a blow?

"Never! All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa, combined, with
all the treasures of the earth (our own excepted) in their
military chest, with a Bonaparte for a commander, could not, by
force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue
Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years.

"At what point, then, is this approach of danger to be expected?

"I answer, if ever it reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It
cannot come from abroad.

"If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and

"As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time or die by

"I hope I am not over-wary; but, if I am not, there is even now
something of ill-omen amongst us.

"I mean the increasing disregard for law which pervades the
country, the disposition to substitute the wild and furious
passions in lieu of the sober judgment of courts, and the worse
than savage mobs for the executive ministers of justice.

"This disposition is awfully fearful in any community, and that
it now exists in ours, though grating to our feelings to admit
it, it would be a violation of truth and an insult to deny.

"Accounts of outrages committed by mobs form the every-day news
of the times.

"They have pervaded the country from New England to Louisiana;
they are neither peculiar to the eternal snows of the former, nor
the burning sun of the latter.

"They are not the creatures of climate, neither are they confined
to the slave-holding or non-slave-holding States.

"Alike they spring up among the pleasure-hunting Southerners and
the order-loving citizens of the land of steady habits.

"Whatever, then, their cause may be, it is common to the whole

"Many great and good men, sufficiently qualified for any task
they may undertake, may ever be found, whose ambition would
aspire to nothing beyond a seat in Congress, a gubernatorial or
Presidential chair; but such belong not to the family of the
lion, or the tribe of the eagle.

"What! Think you these places would satisfy an Alexander, a
Caesar, or a Napoleon? Never!

"Towering genius disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions
hitherto unexplored.

"It seeks no distinction in adding story to story upon the
monuments of fame, erected to the memory of others.

"It denies that it is glory enough to serve under any chief.

"It scorns to tread in the footpaths of any predecessor, however

"It thirsts and burns for distinction, and, if possible, it will
have it, whether at the expense of emancipating the slaves or
enslaving freemen.

"Another reason which once was, but which to the same extent is
now no more, has done much in maintaining our institutions thus

"I mean the powerful influence which the interesting scenes of
the Revolution had upon the passions of the people, as
distinguished from their judgment.

"But these histories are gone. They can be read no more forever.
They were a fortress of strength.

"But what the invading foeman could never do, the silent
artillery of time has done,the levelling of the walls.

"They were a forest of giant oaks, but the all-resisting
hurricane swept over them and left only here and there a lone
trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage, unshading
and unshaded, to murmur in a few more gentle breezes and to
combat with its mutilated limbs a few more rude storms, then to
sink and be no more.

"They were the pillars of the temple of liberty, and now that
they have crumbled away, that temple must fall, unless we, the
descendants, supply the places with pillars hewn from the same
solid quarry of sober reason.

"Passion has helped us, but can do so no more. It will in future
be our enemy.

"Reason--cold, calculating, unimpassioned reason--must furnish
all the materials for our support and defense.

"Let those materials be molded into general intelligence, sound
morality, and, in particular, a reverence for the Constitution
and the laws; and then our country shall continue to improve, and
our nation, revering his name, and permitting no hostile foot to
pass or desecrate his resting-place, shall be the first to hear
the last trump that shall awaken our Washington.

"Upon these let the proud fabric of freedom rest as the rock of
its basis, and as truly as has been said of the only greater
institution, 'the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.'"


One of Mr. Lincoln's warm friends was Dr. Robert Boal, of Lacon,
Illinois. Telling of a visit he paid to the White House soon
after Mr. Lincoln's inauguration, he said: "I found him the same
Lincoln as a struggling lawyer and politician that I did in
Washington as President of the United States, yet there was a
dignity and self-possession about him in his high official
authority. I paid him a second call in the evening. He had thrown
off his reserve somewhat, and would walk up and down the room
with his hands to his sides and laugh at the joke he was telling,
or at one that was told to him. I remember one story he told to
me on this occasion.

"Tom Corwin, of Ohio, had been down to Alexandria, Va., that day
and had come back and told Lincoln a story which pleased him so
much that he broke out in a hearty laugh and said: 'I must tell
you Tom Corwin's latest. Tom met an old man at Alexandria who
knew George Washington, and he told Tom that George Washington
often swore. Now, Corwin's father had always held the father of
our country up as a faultless person and told his son to follow
in his footsteps.

"'"Well," said Corwin, "when I heard that George Washington was
addicted to the vices and infirmities of man, I felt so relieved
that I just shouted for joy."'"


The lawyers on the circuit traveled by Lincoln got together one
night and tried him on the charge of accepting fees which tended
to lower the established rates. It was the understood rule that a
lawyer should accept all the client could be induced to pay. The
tribunal was known as "The Ogmathorial Court."

Ward Lamon, his law partner at the time, tells about it:

"Lincoln was found guilty and fined for his awful crime against
the pockets of his brethren of the bar. The fine he paid with
great good humor, and then kept the crowd of lawyers in
uproarious laughter until after midnight.

"He persisted in his revolt, however, declaring that with his
consent his firm should never during its life, or after its
dissolution, deserve the reputation enjoyed by those shining
lights of the profession, 'Catch 'em and Cheat 'em.'"


Lincoln had assisted in the prosecution of a man who had robbed
his neighbor's hen roosts. Jogging home along the highway with
the foreman of the jury that had convicted the hen stealer, he
was complimented by Lincoln on the zeal and ability of the
prosecution, and remarked: "Why, when the country was young, and
I was stronger than I am now, I didn't mind packing off a sheep
now and again, but stealing hens!" The good man's scorn could not
find words to express his opinion of a man who would steal hens.


A lawyer, who was a stranger to Mr. Lincoln, once expressed to
General Linder the opinion that Mr. Lincoln's practice of telling
stories to the jury was a waste of time.

"Don't lay that flattering unction to your soul," Linder
answered; "Lincoln is like Tansey's horse, he 'breaks to win.'"


On the 3rd of January, 1863, "Harper's Weekly" appeared with a
cartoon representing Columbia indignantly demanding of President
Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton that they restore to her
those of her sons killed in battle. Below the picture is the
reading matter

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