1 . lincol
By
Ward Hill Lamcn,
Lincoln's Friend and Bodygctrd
Ai'ter Miss Owens' return to New
Salem, In the fall of 1S30. Mr. Lincoln
Tins unremitting in bi3 attentions, and
.. wherever she went he was at her side.
She had many relatives in the neigh
borhood the Bales, the Greenes, the
Grahams and if she went to spend an
afternoon or an evening with any of
these Abe was very likely to be on
hand to conduct her home. He asked
her to marry him, but she prudently
evaded a positive answer until she
could make up her mind about ques
tionable points of his character. She
did not think him coarse or cruel, but
she did think him thoughtless, care
less, not altogether as polite as he
might be in short, "deficient," as she
expresses It, "in those little links which
wake up the great chain of woman's
happiness." His heart was good, his
principles were high, his honor sensi
tive, but still in the eyes of this refined
young lady he did not seem to be quite
the gentleman. "He was lacking In
the smaller attentions." and. In fact,
the whole affair is explained when she
tells us that "his education was differ
ent from" hers.
Abe Was UngaHant
One day Miss Oweus and Mrs. Bow
lin Greene were making their way
slowly and tediously up the hill to
Abie's house, when they were joined
by Lincoln. Mrs. Bowlin Greene was
carrying "a great big fat child, heavy
and crossly disposed." Although the
woman bent pitiably under her burden,
Lincoln offered her no assistance, but,
dropping behind with Miss Owens, be
guiled the way according to his wishes.
When they reached the summit, "Miss
Owens said to Lincoln laughingly, 'You
would not make a good husband, Abe.'
They sat on the fence, and one word
brought on another till a split or
breach ensued."
Immediately after this misunder
standing Lincoln went off toward Ha
vana on a surveying expedition and
was absent about three weeks. On the
first day of his return one of Abie's
boys was sent up "to town" for the
mail. Lincoln saw him at the postof
fice and "asked if Miss Owens was at
Mr. Abie's." The boy said, "Yes."
"Tell her," said Lincoln, "that I'll be
down to see her in a few minutes."
Now, Miss Oweus had determined to
spend that evening at Minter Gra
h a id's, and when the boy gave in the
report "she thought a moment and said
to herself 'If I can draw Lincoln up
there to Graham's it will be all right.' "
This scheme was to operate as a test
of Abe's love, but it shared the fate
of some of "the best laid schemes of
mice and men" and went "all agley."
Lincoln, according to promise, went
down to Abie's and asked if Miss Ow
ens was in. Mrs. Able replied that she
had gone to Graham's, about one and
a half miles from Abie's, due south
west. Lincoln said, "Didn't she know
I was coming?" Mrs. Able answered,
"No," but one of the children said,
"Yes, ma, she did, for I heard Sam tell
her so." Lincoln sat awhile and then
went about his business. "The fat
was now in the fire. Lincoln thought,
as he was extremely poor and Miss
Owens very rich, it was a fling on him
on that account. Abe was mistaken in
his guesses, for wealth cut no figure in
Miss Owens' eyes. Miss Owens re
gretted her course. Abe would not
bend, and Miss Owens wouldn't. She
said if she had it to do over again she
would play the cards differently.
She had two sons In the southern ar-
' my. She said that if either of them
had got into difficulties she would will
ingly have gone to old Abe for relief."
In Miss Owens' letter of July 22,
1SGC, it will be observed that she tacit
ly admitted to Mr. Gaines Greene "the
circumstances in connection with Mrs.
Greene and child." Although she here
denies the precise words alleged to have
t been used by her In the little quarrel
at the top of the hill, she does not
deny the Impression his conduct left
i upon her mind, but presents additional
' evidence of it by the relation of anoth
er Incident of similar" character, from
j which her Inferences were the same.
Fortunately we are not compelled to
rely upon tradition, however authentic.
for the facts concerning this Interesting
episode in Mr. Lincoln's life. Miss
Owens was still alive to tell her own
tale at the time this narrative was
written, and we have besides his let
ters to the lady herself. Mr. Lincoln
wrote his account of It as early as
1S38. As In duty bound, we shall per
mit the lady to speak first:
Letters From Mary Owens.
. May 1; 1886.
Mr. W. H. Herndon:
Dear Sir After quite a struggle with
my feelings I have at last decided to send
you the letters in my possession written
by Mr. Lincoln, believing, as I do. that
you are a gentleman of honor and will
faithfully abide by all you have said.
f My ' associations with your lamented
friend1 were in Menard county whilst visit
ing a sister, who then resided near Peters
burg. I have learned that my maiden
name is now in your possession, and you
have ere this no doubt been informed that
I am a native Kentuckian.
As regards Miss Rutledge, I cannot tell
you anything, she having died previous
to my acquaintance with Mr. Lincoln,
and I do not now recollect of ever hear
ing him mention her name. Please re
turn the letters at your earliest conven
ience.. Very respectfully yours.
MARY S. .
. May 1SCG.
n's Love
Affairs
And His Early
Experiences as
a. Lawmaker
f
Mr. AV fl. nernaon:
My dear Sir Really you catechise me in
true lawyer style, but I feel you win have
tl:e goodness to excuse me if I decline
answering all your questions in detail,
being well assured that few women would
have ceded as much as I have under, all
the circumstances.
You say you have heard why our ac-
lualntance terminated as it did. ' I, too.
aave heard the same bit of gossip, but I
never used the remark whici Madam Ru
mor says I did to Mr. Lincoln. I think
I did on one occasion say to my sister,
who was very anxious for us to be mar
ried, that I thought Mr. Lincoln was de
ficient in those little links which make
up the chain of woman's happiness at
least it was so in my case. pot that 1
believed it proceeded from a lack of good
t ness of heart, but his training had been
different from mine; hence there was not
that congeniality which would otherwise
. have existed.
From his own showing, you perceive
that his heart and hand were at my dis
posal, and I suppose that my feelings
j were not sufficiently enlisted to have the
matter consummatea. jldoue me uegin
, ning of the year 1SS8 I left Illinois, at
' which time our acquaintance and corre-
spondence ceased without ever again be-
ing renewed.
My father, who resided in Green coun
ty, Ky., was a gentleman of considerable
means, and I am persuaded that few per
sons placed a higher estimate on educa
tion than he did. Respectfully yours,
MARY S. .
, July 22, 1806.
Mr. W. H. Herndon:
Dear Sir I do not think that you are
! pertinacious in asking the question rela
' tive to old Mrs. Bowlin Greene, because I
wish to set you right on that question.
Your information no doubt came through
my cousin, Mr. Gaines Greene, who vis-
! Ited us last winter. Whilst here he was
1 laughing at me about Mr. Lincoln and,
; among other things, spoke about the cir
cumstance in connection with Mrs. Greene
: and child. My impression .is .now that .1
: tacitly admitted it, for it was a season of
trouble with me, and I gave but little
heed to the matter. We never had any
j hard feelings toward each other that I
I know of. On no occasion did I say to Mr.
i Lincoln that 1 did not believe he would
: make a kind husband because he did not
i tender his services to Mrs. Greene in help
ing of her carry her babe. As I said to
you in a former letter, I thought him
lacking in smaller attentions. One cir
cumstance presents itself just now to my
i mind's eye. There was a company of us
going to Uncle Billy Greene's. Mr. Lln-
: coin was riding with me, and we had a
; very bad branch to cross. The other gen
tlemen were very officious in seeing that
their partners got over safely. We were
behind, he riding in, never looking back
to see how I got along. When I rode up
beside him I remarked: "You are a nice
fellow! I suppose you did not care wheth
er my neck was broken or not." He
laughingly replied, I suppose by way of
compliment, that he knew I was plenty
smart to take care of myself.
In many things he was sensitive almost
to a fault. He told me of an incident
that he was crossing a prairie one day
and saw before him "a hog mired down,"
to use his own language. He was rather
"fixed up," and he resolved that he would
pass on without looking toward the shoat.
After he had gone by, he said, the feeling
was irresistible, and he had to look back,
and the poor thing seemed to say wist
fully, "There, now, my last hope is gone:"
that he deliberately got down and relieved
it from its difficulty.
In many things we were congenial spir
its. In politics we saw eye to eye, though
since then we differed as widely as the
south is from the north. But methinks 1
hear you say, "Save me from a political
woman!" So say I.
The last message I ever received from
him was about a year after we parted in
"THE POOR THINO SEEMED TO SAY WIST
FULLY, 'MY LAST HOPE IS GONE. "
Illinois. Mrs. Able visited Kentucky, and
he said to her in Springfield, "Tell your
sister that I think she was a great fool,
because she did not stay here and marry
me." Characteristic of the man. Respect
fully yours, MARY S. .
Lincoln to Mary Owens.
Vandalia, Dec 13. 1838.
Mary I have been sick ever since my
arrival or I should have written sooner.
It is but little difference, however, as I
have very little even yet to write. And
more, the longer I can avoid -the mortifi
cation of looking in the postofflce for your
letter and not finding It the better. You
see. I am mad about that old letter yet.
I don't like very well to risk you again.
I'll try you once more anyhow.
The new State House is not yet finished,
and consequently the legislature is doing
little or nothing. The governor delivered
an inflammatory political message, and It
is expected there will be some sparring
between the parties about it as soon as
the two bouses .get to business. Taylor
dl.v-rrv up his .persons for tb n
Cu"'. . me 7 -mcTrner3 mxs morn
ing. I am told he despairs of its succese
on account ot all the member from Mor
gan county opposing It. There are names
enough on the petition, I think, to Justify
the members from our county In going tor
it. but if the members from Morgan op
pose it. which they say they win. the
chance will be bad.
Our chance to take the seat of govern
ment to Springfield is better than I ex
pected. An internal Improvement con
vention was held here since we met. which
recommended a loan of several million of
dollars, on the faith of the state, to con
struct railroads. Some of the legislature
are for it and some against it. Which has
the majority I cannot tell. There is great
strife and struggling for the office of the
United States senator here at this time.
It is probable we shall ease their pains in
a few days. The opposition men have no
candidate of their own. and consequently
they will smile as complacently at "the
inry snarl of the contending Van Buren
candidates and their respective friends "as
the Christian does at Satan's rage. You
recollect that I mentioned at the outset
of this letter that I had been unwell.
That is the fact, though I believe I am
xbcat we!! now. Eut that, with other
things I cannot account for. have con!
3pired and have gotten my sp!rits so low
chat 1 feel that I 'would rather be any
olaee -in the world than here. I really
cannot endure the thought of staying her
ten weeks. Write back as soon as you
?et this and. if possible, say something
that will please me, for really I have not
ben pleased since I left you. This letter
!s so dry and stupid that I am ashamed
.c send It. but with my present feelings
I cannot do any better.
Give my best respects to Mr. and Mrs.
Able and family. Your friend,
LINCOLN.
Springfield. May 7. 1837.
Miss Mary S. Owens:
Friend Mary I have commenced two
letters to send you before this, both of
which displeased me before I got half
done, and so I - tore them up. The flr3t
I thought was not serious enough, and
the second was on the other extreme. J
hall send this, turn out as it may.
. This thing of living in Springfield is
rather a dull business after all at least
It is so to me. I am quite as lonesome
here as I ever was anywhere in my lifrr.
I have been spoken to by but one woman
6ince I've been here and should not have
been by her if she could, have avoided it.
I've never been to church yet nor probor
bly shall not be soon. 1 stay away be
cause I am conscious I should not know
how to behave myself.
I am often thinking about what we said
of your coming to live at Springfield. I
am afraid you would not be satisfied.
There is a great deal of flourishing about
In carriages here, which it would be your
doom to see without sharing it. You
would have to be poor, -without the means
of hiding your poverty. Do you believe
you could bear that patiently? Whatever
woman may cast her lot with mine,
should any ever do so, it is my intention
to do all in my power to make her happy
and contented, and there is nothing I can
imagine that would make me more un
happy than to fail in the effort. I know
I should be much happier with you than
the way I am, provided I saw no signs of
discontent in you. What" you have said
to me may have been in the way of jest,
or I may have misunderstood it. If so,
then let it be forgotten: if otherwise, I
much wish you would think seriously be
fore you decide. For my part, I have al-r
ready decided. What I have said I will
most positively abide by, provided you
wish It. My opinion is that you had bet
ter not do it. You have not been accus
tomed to hardship, and it may be more
severe than you now imagine. I know
you are capable of thinking correctly on
any subject, and if you deliberate mature
ly upon this before you decide, then I .am
willing to abide your decision.
You must write irie a good long letter
after you get this. You have nothing else
to do, and, though It might not seem in
teresting to you after you have written it.
it would be a good deal of company to me
in this "busy wilderness." Tell your sis
ter I don't want to hear any more about
selling out and moving. That gives me
the hypo whenever I think of it. Yours,
etc., LINCOLN.
Springfield, Aug. 16. 1837.
Friend Mary You will no doubt think
It rather strange that I should write you
a letter on the same day on which we
parted, and I can only account for it by
supposing that seeing you lately make's
me think of you more than usual, while
at our late meeting we had but few ex
pressions of thoughts. You must know
that I cannot see you or think of you with-j
entire indifference, and yet it may be
that you are mistaken in regard to what
my real feelings toward you are. ' If I
knew you were not; I should not trouble
you with this letter. Perhaps any other
man would know enough without further
information, but I consider' it my pe
culiar right to plead ignorance and you
bounden duty to allow the plea. I want
in all cases to-do right, and most -particularly
so in all cases with women. I
want at this particular time more than
anything- else to do right with you, and
if I knew it would be doing right, as I
rather suspect It would, to let you alone
I would do it. And, for the purpose of
making the matter as plain as possible, I
now say that you can now drop the sub
ject, dismiss your thoughts (if you ever
had any) from me forever and leave this
letter unanswered, without calling forth
one accusing murmur from me. And I
will even go further and say that, if it
will add anything to your comfort or
peace of mind to do so, it is my sincere
wish that you should. Do not understand
by this that I wish to cut your acquaint
ance. I mean no such thing. What I do
wish is that our further acquaintance
shall depend upon yourself. If such fur
ther acquaintance would constitute noth
ing to your happiness, I am sure it would
not to mine. If you feel yourself in any
degree bound to me. I am now willing to
release you, provided you wish It, while.
on the other hand, I am willing and even
anxious to bind you faster if I can be
convinced that it will in any considerable
degree add to your happiness. This, in
deed, is the whole question with me.
Nothing would make me more miserable
than to believe you miserable, nothing
more happy than to know you were so.
In what I have now said I think I can
not be misunderstood, and to make my
self understood is the only object of this
letter.
If it suits you best to not answer this.
farewell. A long life and a merry one at
tend you. But if you conclude to write
back, speak as plainly as I do. There can
be neither harm nor danger in saying to
me anything you think, just in the man
ner you think it.
My respects to your sister. Your rriend.
LINCOLN.
CHAPTER V.
Curious Confession From Lincoln on
Mary Owens Affair.
FTER his second meeting with
Mary Mr. Lincoln had little
time to prosecute his addresses
In person, for early In Decem
ber he was called away to his seat in
the legislature; but, if his tongue was
silent in the cause, his pen was busy.
. Pu.in!v Vl? session of the legislature
r-iCST sir. umcom c;ae tne ac
quaintance of Mrs. O. II. Browning,
whose husband was also a member.
The acquaintance ripened Into friend
ship, and that winter and the next Mr.
Lincoln spent a great deal of time in
social intercourse with the Brownings.
Mrs. Browning knew nothing as yet of
the affair with Miss Owens, but a3 the
-latter progressed and Lincolu beearje
more and more involved she noticed
the ebb of his spi ts and often rallie 1
him as the victim of some secret but
consuming passion. With thi3 for his
excuse. Lincoln wrote her after the
adjournment of the legislature a full
.and connected account of the manner
In which he had latterly bean making
"a fool of" himself. For many reasous
the publication of this letter Is an ex
'tremely painful duty. If it could be
withheld and the act decently recon
ciled to the conscience of a biographer
professing to be honest and candid it
should ' never see the light In these
pages. Its grotesque humor. it3 coarse
exaggerations in describing the person
of a lady whom the writer was willing
to marry, its Imputation of toothless
and weather beaten old age to a wo
man really young and handsome, its
utter lack of that delicacy of tone and
sentiment which one naturally expects
a gentleman to adopt when he thinks
proper to discuss the merits of his lat
mistress all these and Its defective
orthography it would certainly be more
agreeable to suppress than to publish.
But If we bngin by omitting or muti
lating a document which sheds so
broad a light upon one part of bis life
and one phase of his character why
may we not do the like as fast and as
often as the temptations arise? And
where shall the process cease? A bi
ography worth writing at all Is worth
writing fully and honestly, and the
writer who suppresses or mangles the
truth Is no better than he who bears
false witness In any other capacity.
' In April, 1S3S, Miss Owens finally
departed from Illinois, and in that
same month Mr. Lincoln wrote Mrs.
Browning:
Springfield, April 1, 1S38.
Dear Madam Without apologizing for
being egotistical, I shall make the history
of so much of my life as has elapsed
since I saw you the subject of this letter.
And. by the way. I now discover that, in
order to give a full and intelligible ac
count of the things I have done and suf
fered since I saw you, I shall necessarily
have to relate some that happened before.
It was, then, in the autumn of 1S3S that
a married lady of my acquaintance and
who was a great friend of mine, being
about to pay a visit to her father &
other relatives residing in Kentucky, pro
posed to me that on her return she would
bring a sister of hers with her on condi
tion tiiat I would engage to become her
brother-in-law with all convenient dis
patch. I, of course, accepted the pro
posal, for you know I could not have done
otherwise had I really been averse to it.
but privately, between you and me. I was
most confoundedly well pleased with the
project. I had seen the said sister some
three years before, thought her intelli
gent and agreeable and saw no good ob
jection to plodding life through hand in
hand with her. Time passed on, the lady
took her journey and in due time re
turned, sister in company, sure enough.
This astonished me a little, for it ap
peared to me that her coming so readily
showed that she was a trifle too willing;
but on reflection it occurred to me that
she might have been prevailed on by her
married sister to come without anything
concerning me ever having been mention
ed to her, and so I concluded that, if no
other objection presented itelf, I would
consent to wave this. All this occurred
to me on hearing of her arrival in the
neighborhood, for, be it remembered, 1
had not yet seen her except about three
years previous, as above mentioned. In
a few days we had an interview, and, al
though I bad seen her before, she did
not look as my imagination had pictured
her. I knew she was oversize, but she
now appeared a fair match for Falstaff.
I knew she was called an "old maid," and
I felt no doubt of the truth of at least
half of the appelation, but now, when I
.beheld her, I could not. for my life avoid
thinkmg of my mother, and this not from
withered features, for her skin was too
full of fat to permit of its contracting
Into wrinkles, but from her want of teeth.
Weather beaten appearance in general and
from a kind of notion that ran in my
bead that nothing could have commenced
at the size of infancy and reached her
present bulk in less than thirty-five or
forty years, and, in short, I was not at
all pleased with her. But what could I
do? I had told her sister that I would
take her for better or for worse, and I
made a point of honor and conscience in
all things to stick to my word, especially
if others had been induced to act on it.
which In this case I had no doubt they
had, for I was now fairly convinced that
no other man on earth would have her,
and hence the conclusion that they were
bent on holding me to my bargain.
"Well." thought I, "I have said it, and,
be the consequences what they may, it
shall not be my fault if I fail to do it."
At once I determined to consider her my
wife, and, this done, all my powers of
discovery were put to work in search of
perfections in her which might be fairly
sett off against her defects. I tried to im
agine her handsome, which but for her
unfortunate corpulency was actually true.
Exclusive of this no woman that I have
ever seen has a finer face. I also tried
to convince myself that the mind was
much more te be valued than the person,
and In this she was not inferior, as 1
could discover, to any with whom I had
been acquainted.
Shortly after this, without attempting
to come to any positive understanding
with her, I sat out for Vandalia, when
and where you first saw me. During my
stay there I had letters from her which
did not change my opinion of either her
intelect or intention, but, on the contrary,
confirmed it in both.
All this while, although I was fixed,
firm as the surge repelling rock," in my
resolution, I found I was continually re
penting the rashness which had led me to
make it. Through life I have been in no
bondage, either real or imaginary, from
the thraldom of which I so much desired
to be free. After my return home I saw
nothing to change my opinions of her in
any particular. She was the same, and
so. was I. I now spent my time in plan
ing how I "might get along through life
after my contemplated change of circum
stances should have taken place and how
I might procrastinate the evil day for a
time, which I really dreaded as much,
perhaps more, than an Irishman does the
halter.
After all my suffering upon this deeply
Interesting subject here I am, wholly, un
expectedly, completely out of the "scrape,"
and I now want to know if you can guesn
how I got out of it out clear in every
sense of the term, no violation of word,
honor or conscience. I don't believe you
can guess, and so I might as well tail
you at once. As the lawyer says, it was
done In the manner following to wit:
Ater I bdiaythe. matter as. Ions
a 1 -xnougtrt-x cotna -in nonor oo cwnreo.
by the way, had brought me round Into
the last fall) I concluded I might as well
bring u to a consumation without fur
ther delay, and so I mustered my resolu
tion and made the proposal to her direct.
But. shocking to relate, she answered.
"No." At first I supposed she did it
through an affectation of modesty, which
I thought but ill became her under the
peculiar circumstances of her case, but cn
my renewal of the charge I found ehe re-
, poled it with greater firmness than be
fore. I tried it again and again, but with
the same success, or. rather, with the
same want of success.
1 finally was forced to give it up, nt
which 1 very unexpectedly four.d mys?K
mortified almost beyond endurance. I was
mortified, it seemed to me. in a hundred
different ways. My vanity was deeply
wounded by the reflection that I had so
long been too stupid to discover h?r in
tentions and at the same time never
doubting that I understood them perfect
ly, and also that she. whonl I had tausol
myself to believe nobody else would have,
had actually rejected me with all lny
fancied greatness. And. to cap the whole,
t then for the first time began to suspect
that I was really a little in love with her.
But let ft all go. I'll try and outlive It.
Others have been made fools of by the
girls, but this can never with truth be
said of me. I most emphatically in th:s
instance made a fool of myself. I have
now come to the conclusion never again
to think of marrying, and for this reason:
J can never be satisfied -with any one who
would be blockhead enough to have me.
When you receive this, write me a long
yarn about something to amuse me. Give
aiy respects to Mr. Browning. Your sin
cere friend. A. LINCOLN.
Mrs. O. H. Browning.
CHAPTER VI.
Lincoln Leaves Love Affairs For Legis
lative Work.
THH majority of Mr. Lincoln's bi
ographers, and they are many
and credulous, tell us that he
walked from New Salem to
Vandalia, a distance of 100 miles, to
take his seat for tho first time in the
legislature of the state. But that is an
Innocent mistake, for he was resolved
to appear with as much of the dignity
of the senator as his circumstances
would permit. For this very purpose
he had borrowed 5200 from Coleman
Smoot, and when the choice between
riding and walking presented itself he
sensibly enough got into the stage,
with his new clothes on,- and rode to
the scene of his labors.
When he arrived there, he found a
singular state of affairs. Duncan had
been chosen governor at the recent
.LINCOLN'S FIRST VIEW OP DOUGLAS,
"THE LEAST MAN HE EVES SAW."
August election by "the whole hog
Jackson men," but he was absent In
congress during the whole of the cam
paign, and now that he came to the
duties of his office it was discovered
that he had been all the while an anti
Jackson man and was quite willing to
aid the Whig3 in furtherance of some
of their worst schemes. These schemes
were then just beginning to be hatched
In great numbers, but in due time they
were enacted into laws and prepared
Illinois with the proper weights of pub
lic debt and "rag" currency to sink her
deeper than her neighbors into the
miseries of financial ruin in 1837. The
speculating fever was just reaching
Illinois. - The land and town lot busi
ness had barely taken shape at Chi
cago, and state banks and multitudi
nous internal improvements were yet
to be invented. But this legislature
was a very wise one In its own conceit
and was not slow to launch out with
the first of a series of magnificent ex
periments. It contented itself, how
ever, with "chartering a state bank,
with a capital of $1,500,000; recharter
ing, with a capital of $300,000, the
Shawneetown bank, which had broken
twelve years before, and providing for
a loan of $500,000 on the credit of the
state wherewith to make a beginning
on the Illinois and Michigan canal.
The bill for the latter project was
drawn and Introduced by Senator
James M. Strode, the gentleman who
described with such moving eloquence
the horrors of Stillman's defeat These
measures Governor Ford considers "the
beginning of all the bad legislation
which followed in a few years and
which, as is well known, resulted in
general ruin." Mr. Lincoln favored
them all and faithfully followed out
the policy of which they were the in
auguration at subsequent sessions of
the same body. For the present, nev
ertheless, he was a silent member, al
though he was assigned a prominent
place on the committee on public ac
counts and expenditures. The bank
charters were drawn by a Democrat
who hdped to find his account in the
issue. All the bills were passed by a
legislature "nominally" Democratic,
but the board of canal commissioners
was composed exclusively of Whigs,
and the Whig3 straightway assumed
-o"-i i-f the l-"Vq.
It was at a special session or tnis
legislature that Lincoln first saw Ste
phen A. Douglas and. viewing his ac
tive little person with Immense amuse
ment, pronounced him "the least man
he ever saw." Douglas had come Into
the state (from Vermont) only the pre
vious year, but, having studied law fop
several months, considered himself
eminently qualified to be state's attor
ney for the district in which he lived
and was now come to Vandalia for
that purpose. The place was already
filled by a man of considerable distinc
tion, but the incumbent, remaining at
home, possibly in blissful ignorance of
his neighbor's design. wa3 easily sup
planted by the supple Vermonter.
It is the misfortune of legislatures in
general, as it was in tliose days tho
peculiar misfortune of the legislature
of Illinois, to be beset by a multitude
of gentlemen engaged in the exclusivo
business of "log rolling." Chief among
the , "rollers" were some of the most
"distinguished" members, each assist
ed by an Influential delegntion from
the district, bank or "institution" to be
benefited by the legislation proposed.
An expert "log roller,' an especially
wily and persuasive person who could
depict the merits of his scheme with
roseate but delusive eloquence, was
said to carry "a gourd of possum fat,"
and the unhappy victim of his art was
said to be "greased and swallowed.
It is not to be supposed that anybody
ever succeeded in anointing a single
square inch of Mr. Lincoln's person
with the "fat" that deluded, but his
torians aver that "the Long Nine," of
whom he was the longest and clever
est, possessed "gourds" of extraordi
nary dimensions and distributed
"grease" of marvelous virtues. But of
that at another place.
In 1830 Mr. Lincoln was again a can
didate for the legislature, his col
leagues on the Whig ticket in Sanga
mon being for representatives John
Dawson, William F. Elkin, N. W. Ed
wards, Andrew McCormick, Dan Stone
and R. L. Wilson and for senators A.
G. Herndon and Job Fletcher. They
were all elected but one. and he was
beaten by John Calhoun.
Lincoln For Woman Suffrage.
Mr. Lincoln opened the campaign by
the following manifesto:
New Salem. June 13, 1836.
To the Editor of the Journal:
In your paper of last Saturday I see a
communication over the signature of
"Many "Voters." in which the candidates
who are announced in the Journal are
called upon to "show their hands."
Agreed. Here's mine.
I go for all sharing the privileges of the
government who assist in bearing its
burdens. Consequently I go for admitting
all whites to the right of suffrage who
pay taxes or bear arms (by no means
excluding females).
If elected I shall consider the whole
people of Sangamon my constituents, as
well those that oppose as those that sup
port me.
While acting as their representative I
shall be governed by their will on all
subjects upon which I have the means
of knowing what their will is, and upon
all others I shall do what my own Judg
ment teaches me will best advance their
interests. Whether elected or not, I go
for distributing the proceeds of the sales
of the public lands to the several states
to enable our state, in common with oth
ers, to dig canals and construct railroads
without borrowing money and paying tho
interest on it.
If alive on the first Monday in Novem
ber I shall vote for Hugh L. White for
president. Very respectfully,
A. LINCOLN.
The elections were held on the first
Monday in August, and the campaign
began about six weeks or two months
before. Popular meetings were adver
tised in the Sangamon Journal and the
State Register, organs of the respective
parties. Not infrequently the meet
ings were joint composed of both par
ties when, as Lincoln would say. the
candidates "put in their best licks,"
while the audience "rose to the height
of the great argument" with cheers,
taunts, catcalls, fights and other exer
cises appropriate to the free and un
trammeled enjoyment of the freeman's
boon.
The candidates traveled from one
grove to another on horseback, and
when the "Long Nine" (all over six
feet in height) took the road It must
have been a goodly sight to see.
"I heard Lincoln make a speech,"
says James Gourly, "in Mechanicsburg,
Sangamon county, in 1836. John Neal
had a fight at the time. The roughs
got on him, and Lincoln jumped in and
saw fair play. We stayed for dinner
at Green's, close to Mechanicsburg;
drank whisky sweetened with honey.
There the questions discussed were in
teij. Iipr.yemsa.ts, .Whig. jrini.ple.s. .
. continued)
rauiitfy tmorf Ctn.
"Farmer" Vincent in Farm Journal
(Philadelphia) wisely says:
When the combs of the fowls begin
to droop and look pale and limp, better
sort them out and get bens with nice,
bright combs.
It is the singing hen that does a
good day's work. Same way with men
folks.
The beef trust is leading us to trust
more and more in hens.
Change the diet of the hens often.
None of us likes to live all the time
on pudding and milk, good as they are.
About the surest way to fail is to
crowd too many, hens into one pen. It
never paid. It never will.
Kind of hard work to wash eggs,
but they look so much better when you
offer them for sale!
Keep the doors closed at night This
is the time of the year when enemies
of the biddies prowl around.
Use some animal food every day, but
have it good.
Have the feed boxes high enough
from the floor so that you can sweep
under thenv Sure to be a lot of litter
there.
Hens do not like to pick their shells
out of a box half full of straw and
cobs. Keep the shells clean by put
ting the box up where the litter will
not get into It.
Expect to learn something about tho
chickens every day.
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