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Selected American history
The Life of Abraham Lincoln
By Henry Ketcham
CHAPTER VI.
DESULTORY EMPLOYMENTS.
Upon the arrival of the Lincoln family in Illinois, they had the few
tools which would be considered almost necessary to every frontiersman:
namely, a common ax, broad-ax, hand-saw, whip-saw. The mauls and wedges
were of wood and were made by each workman for himself. To this stock
of tools may also be added a small supply of nails brought from
Indiana, for at that period nails were very expensive and used with the
strictest economy. By means of pegs and other devices people managed to
get along without them.
When Abraham Lincoln went to New Salem it was (like all frontier towns)
a promising place. It grew until it had the enormous population of
about one hundred people, housed--or log-cabined--in fifteen primitive
structures. The tributary country was not very important in a
commercial sense. To this population no less than four general stores--
that is, stores containing nearly everything that would be needed in
that community--offered their wares.
The town flourished, at least it lived, about through the period that
Lincoln dwelt there, after which it disappeared.
Lincoln was ready to take any work that would get him a living. A
neighbor advised him to make use of his great strength in the work of a
blacksmith. He seriously thought of learning the trade, but was,
fortunately for the country, diverted from doing so.
The success of the expedition to New Orleans had won the admiration of
his employer, Denton Offutt, and he now offered Lincoln a clerkship in
his prospective store. The offer was accepted partly because it gave
him some time to read, and it was here that he came to know the two
great poets, Burns and Shakespeare.
Offutt's admiration of the young clerk did him credit, but his voluble
expression of it was not judicious. He bragged that Lincoln was smart
enough to be president, and that he could run faster, jump higher,
throw farther, and "wrastle" better than any man in the country. In the
neighborhood there was a gang of rowdies, kind at heart but very rough,
known as "the Clary's Grove boys." They took the boasting of Offutt as
a direct challenge to themselves and eagerly accepted it. So they put
up a giant by the name of Jack Armstrong as their champion and arranged
a "wrastling" match. All went indifferently for a while until Lincoln
seemed to be getting the better of his antagonist, when the "boys"
crowded in and interfered while Armstrong attempted a foul. Instantly
Lincoln was furious. Putting forth all his strength he lifted Jack up
and shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. The crowd, in their turn,
became angry and set out to mob him. He backed up against a wall and in
hot indignation awaited the onset. Armstrong was the first to recover
his good sense. Exclaiming, "Boys, Abe Lincoln's the best fellow that
ever broke into the settlement," he held out his hand to Lincoln who
received it with perfect good nature. From that day these boys never
lost their admiration for him. He was their hero. From that day, too,
he became the permanent umpire, the general peacemaker of the region.
His good nature, his self-command, and his manifest fairness placed his
decisions beyond question. His popularity was established once for all
in the entire community.
There are some, anecdotes connected with his work in the store which
are worth preserving because they illustrate traits of his character.
He once sold a half pound of tea to a customer. The next morning as he
was tidying up the store he saw, by the weights which remained in the
scales, that he had inadvertently given her four, instead of eight,
ounces. He instantly weighed out the balance and carried it to her, not
waiting for his breakfast.
At another time when he counted up his cash at night he discovered that
he had charged a customer an excess of six and a quarter cents. He
closed up the store at once and walked to the home of the customer, and
returned the money. It was such things as these, in little matters as
well as great, that gave him the nickname of "honest Abe" which, to his
honor be it said, clung to him through life.
One incident illustrates his chivalry. While he was waiting upon some
women, a ruffian came into the store using vulgar language. Lincoln
asked him to desist, but he became more abusive than ever. After the
women had gone, Lincoln took him out of the store, threw him on the
ground, rubbed smartweed in his face and eyes until he howled for
mercy, and then he gave him a lecture which did him more practical good
than a volume of Chesterfield's letters.
Some time after Offutt's store had "winked out," while Lincoln was
looking for employment there came a chance to buy one half interest in
a store, the other half being owned by an idle, dissolute fellow named
Berry who ultimately drank himself into his grave. Later, another
opening came in the following way: the store of one Radford had been
wrecked by the horse-play of some ruffians, and the lot was bought by
Mr. Greene for four hundred dollars. He employed Lincoln to make an
invoice of the goods and he in turn offered Greene two hundred and
fifty dollars for the bargain and the offer was accepted. But even that
was not the last investment. The fourth and only remaining store in the
hamlet was owned by one Rutledge. This also was bought out by the firm
of Berry & Lincoln. Thus they came to have the monopoly of the
mercantile business in the hamlet of New Salem.
Be it known that in all these transactions not a dollar in money
changed hands. Men bought with promissory notes and sold for the same
consideration. The mercantile venture was not successful. Berry was
drinking and loafing, and Lincoln, who did not work as faithfully for
himself as for another, was usually reading or telling stories. So when
a couple of strangers, Trent by name, offered to buy out the store, the
offer was accepted and more promissory notes changed hands. About the
time these last notes came due, the Trent brothers disappeared between
two days. Then Berry died.
The outcome of the whole series of transactions was that Lincoln was
left with an assortment of promissory notes bearing the names of the
Herndons, Radford, Greene, Rutledge, Berry, and the Trents. With one
exception, which will be duly narrated, his creditors told him to pay
when he was able. He promised to put all of his earnings, in excess of
modest living expenses, into the payment of these obligations. It was
the burden of many years and he always called it "the national debt."
But he kept his word, paying both principal and the high rate of
interest until 1848, or after fifteen years, when a member of congress,
he paid the last cent. He was still "honest Abe." This narrative ranks
the backwoodsman with Sir Walter Scott and Mark Twain, though no
dinners were tendered to him and no glowing eulogies were published
from ocean to ocean.
His only further experience in navigation was the piloting of a
Cincinnati steamboat, the _Talisman_, up the Sangamon River (during the
high water in spring time) to show that that stream was navigable.
Nothing came of it however, and Springfield was never made "the head of
navigation."
It was in the midst of the mercantile experiences above narrated that
the Black Hawk war broke out. Black Hawk was chief of the Sac Indians,
who, with some neighboring tribes, felt themselves wronged by the
whites. Some of them accordingly put on the paint, raised the whoop,
and entered the warpath in northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin.
The governor called for soldiers, and Lincoln volunteered with the
rest.
The election of captain of the company was according to an original
method. The two candidates were placed a short distance apart and the
men were invited to line up with one or the other according to their
preference. When this had been done it was seen that Lincoln had about
three quarters of the men. This testimony to his popularity was
gratifying. After he became president of the United States he declared
that no success that ever came to him gave him so much solid
satisfaction.
Lincoln saw almost nothing of the war. His only casualty came after its
close. He had been mustered out and his horse was stolen so that he was
compelled to walk most of the way home. After the expiration of his
term of enlistment he reenlisted as a private. As he saw no fighting
the war was to him almost literally a picnic. But in 1848, when he was
in congress, the friends of General Cass were trying to make political
capital out of his alleged military services. This brought from Lincoln
a speech which showed that he had not lost the power of satire which he
possessed while a lad in Indiana.
"Did you know, Mr. Speaker, I am a military hero? In the days of the
Black Hawk war I fought, bled, and--came away. I was not at Stillman's
defeat, but I was about as near it as General Cass was to Hull's
surrender; and, like him, I saw the place very soon afterwards. It is
quite certain I did not break my sword, for I had none to break, but I
bent my musket pretty bad on one occasion. If General Cass went in
advance of me picking whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in
charges on the wild onions. 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 I was often very hungry. If ever I should conclude to doff
whatever our Democratic friends may suppose there is of black-cockade
Federalism about me, and thereupon they shall take me up as their
candidate for the Presidency, I protest that they shall not make fun of
me, as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a
military hero."
In 1833 Lincoln was appointed postmaster at New Salem. To him the chief
advantage of this position was the fact that it gave him the means of
reading the papers. The principal one of these was the Louisville
_Journal_, an exceedingly able paper, for it was in charge of
George D. Prentice, one of the ablest editors this country has ever
produced. The duties of the post-office were few because the mail was
light. The occasional letters which came were usually carried around by
the postmaster in his hat. When one asked for his mail, he would
gravely remove his hat and search through the package of letters.
This office was discontinued in a short time, but no agent of the
government came to close up the accounts. Years afterwards, when
Lincoln was in Springfield, the officer suddenly appeared and demanded
the balance due to the United States, the amount being seventeen
dollars and a few cents. A friend who was by, knowing that Lincoln was
short of funds, in order to save him from embarrassment, offered to
lend him the needful sum. "Hold on a minute and let's see how we come
out," said he. He went to his room and returned with an old rag
containing money. This he counted out, being the exact sum to a cent.
It was all in small denominations of silver and copper, just as it had
been received. In all his emergencies of need he had never touched this
small fund which he held in trust. To him it was sacred. He was still
"honest Abe."
In the early thirties, when the state of Illinois was being settled
with great rapidity, the demand for surveyors was greater than the
supply. John Calhoun, surveyor for the government, was in urgent need
of a deputy, and Lincoln was named as a man likely to be able to fit
himself for the duties on short notice. He was appointed. He borrowed
the necessary book and went to work in dead earnest to learn the
science. Day and night he studied until his friends, noticing the
wearing effect on his health, became alarmed. But by the end of six
weeks, an almost incredibly brief period of time, he was ready for
work.
It is certain that his outfit was of the simplest description, and
there is a tradition that at first, instead of a surveyor's chain he
used a long, straight, wild-grape vine. Those who understand the
conditions and requirements of surveying in early days say that this is
not improbable. A more important fact is that Lincoln's surveys have
never been called in question, which is something that can be said of
few frontier surveyors. Though he learned the science in so short a
time, yet here, as always, he was thorough.
It was said in the earlier part of this chapter that to the holders of
Lincoln's notes who consented to await his ability to pay, there was
one exception. One man, when his note fell due, seized horse and
instruments, and put a temporary stop to his surveying. But a neighbor
bought these in and returned them to Lincoln. He never forgot the
kindness of this man, James Short by name, and thirty years later
appointed him Indian agent.
At this point may be mentioned an occurrence which took place a year or
two later. It was his first romance of love, his engagement to a
beautiful girl, Ann Rutledge, and his bereavement. Her untimely death
nearly unsettled his mind. He was afflicted with melancholy to such a
degree that his friends dared not leave him alone. For years afterwards
the thought of her would shake his whole frame with emotion, and he
would sit with his face buried in his hands while the tears trickled
through. A friend once begged him to try to forget his sorrow. "I
cannot," he said; "the thought of the rain and snow on her grave fills
me with indescribable grief."
Somehow, we know not how, the poem "Oh, why should the spirit of mortal
be proud?" was in his mind connected with Ann Rutledge. Possibly it may
have been a favorite with her. There was certainly some association,
and through his whole life he was fond of it and often repeated it. Nor
did he forget her. It was late in life that he said: "I really and
truly loved the girl and think often of her now." Then, after a pause,
"And I have loved the name of Rutledge to this day."
This bereavement took much from Lincoln. Did it give him nothing?
Patience, earnestness, tenderness, sympathy--these are sometimes the
gifts which are sent by the messenger Sorrow. We are justified in
believing that this sad event was one of the means of ripening the
character of this great man, and that to it was due a measure of his
usefulness in his mature years.
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