They Knew Lincoln These recollections of Lincoln were assembled in newspaper goings and comings. They are plain tales told by men and women "who knew Lincoln." In degree of acquaintance they range from a single, perhaps casual, meeting, to years of intimacy. In respect to time, they relate to Lincoln, the clerk at New Salem; to Lincoln, the president; and to Lincoln at stages of his career between the clerkship and the presidency. New Salem, the settlement that was promising when Lincoln went there to begin his manhood life, passed away long ago. When the site was visited by the reporter not a building was left. But living in and about Petersburg, the thrifty little city which succeeded New Salem, were men and women, advanced in years, who remembered "when nobody along the Sangamon could put Abe Lincoln on his back." They told, from personal observation, how Lincoln took the death of Ann Rutledge. They described the wrestling match between Lincoln and Jack Armstrong, the neighborhood champion. They heard Lincoln read his argument about the Bible and saw his employer take the paper from him and burn it. They recalled how Lincoln saved Duff Armstrong with an almanac, in a murder trial, and Duff Armstrong, in the flesh, reformed and a church member, was there to stoutly assert that the almanac was not faked. After Lincoln the wrestler and clerk, Lincoln the surveyor and legislator, came Lincoln the lawyer and Lincoln the politician. Lincoln rode the eighth circuit. Half a century afterwards his trail was followed by his lawsuits, his stories, his homely sayings. At the court towns on the circuit, people told of Lincoln from personal recollections. Of Lincoln sitting on the log with the editors and framing the first platform of the Republican movement in Illinois; of Lincoln going fishing with a carryall full of boys; of Lincoln dropping from the statehouse window in Vandalia to break a quorum,-of such were the recollections. The Bloomington speech was "lost," but perhaps more vivid than the forgotten words were the impressions which listeners received and which they described. Robert R. Hitt, many years Member of Congress from the Freeport, Ill., district, took the speeches of the Douglas-Lincoln joint debate for the Chicago Tribune. During a mid-winter recess 335413 of Congress, Joseph B. McCullagh, editor of the Globe-Democrat, sent his Washington correspondent to Mr. Hitt for an interview on the joint debates. Mr. Hitt was not willing to be quoted in direct narration. He had preserved much that was printed at the time of the debates. This material he supplemented with his recollection of many incidents connected with the historic meetings. The narrative was long. After it was written from the notes taken at the talk, another visit was made to Mr. Hitt's library overlooking McPherson Square. The narrative was read at length. Mr. Hitt made some further suggestions which were noted. In this form, approved by Mr. Hitt, the story of the debates is given. There were grayheads in Alton who saw Lincoln and Shields arrive from Springfield, who marveled as the long, clattering sabres were lifted down from the top of the stagecoach, who watched the two boatloads of solemn looking men cross to Lincoln-Shields island near the Missouri shore, and who told how Lincoln practiced lopping off the willow twigs while the seconds measured the ground and arranged preliminaries for a duel. These narratives include incidents which seemed trivial at the time of occurrence, but which, later, had important bearing on the great career. Going to see how his son Robert was getting on at Exeter, in preparation for Harvard, Lincoln made speeches in New England. The next year the eastern delegates who turned earliest from their first choices to Lincoln, in the nominating convention at Chicago, were from the New England localities where Lincoln had spoken. Reminiscences of the family life, given by a favorite nephew who spent much time in the Lincoln home at Springfield are more satisfying than much that has been given by the biographers. From the unpublished store of Lincoln manuscripts possessed by William K. Bixby have been drawn many revelations. With no purpose to prove or disprove anything about Lincoln, but with the sole intention to add to the popular comprehension of the Great American, these narratives have been reported. W. B. S. Growing Days at New Salem New Salem, the town where Lincoln tended store and made his reputation as the champion jumper and wrestler, is a reminiscence. It was promising in 1833. Only the hill remains, from the summit of which there is a long stretch of the Sangamon bottom in view. Some years ago might have been seen the foundation timbers of the log house in which Bill Berry and Abe Lincoln kept the grocery. But the old timbers have disappeared, gone to be manufactured into Lincoln souvenirs. The mill which stood on the river bank under the hill is gone. It was burned long ago. At this mill, according to Salem traditions, Lincoln played one of his practical jokes. He took advantage of the absence of the miller to prop up in the hopper a dead hog with an ear of corn in its mouth. All Salem, except the miller, laughed. The miller felt scandalized at the insinuation of excessive toll "as the wheel went around." The everlasting hill, which was the site of New Salem, is there, but the road to the settlement, leading up a hollow, has been washed away. The abandoned town site is part of a pasture and the only way to reach it is roundabout, through gates and up a steep climb. From the height the visitor looks down the side of the hill almost as steep as the roof of a house. And that descent was the scene of another Lincoln joke, in which a boon companion, Jack Armstrong, aided and abetted. One day Lincoln and Armstrong, so the local tradition is told, put an old toper who was sleeping off his potations into a hogshead and started it rolling down the hill. About halfway the hogshead struck a stump, the head flew out, the hoops burst and the drunken man escaped with nothing worse than a bruise or two. These Salem traditions are entertaining, but in connection with them the fact should be kept in mind that when Abraham Lincoln came to the settlement to keep store he was only 22 years old. When he was past 25 he was elected to the Legislature, moved to Springfield and began to be a lawyer. A story of this New Salem period is that, having great difficulty in driving a drove of hogs across a bridge, Lincoln resorted to the expedient of sewing together the eyelids of several. He then started the blinded hogs ahead of those that could see and the drove passed over the bridge without any more trouble. This is one of the stories of Lincoln's early manhood which has been questioned. It is still told and accepted in Petersburg, the Menard County town which grew as New Salem declined with the transition from river to rail. An old lady with an excellent memory laughed merrily as she declared her faith in the tradition about the hogs. "I guess it is true," she said. "Perhaps Lincoln didn't really do the sewing, but only made the suggestion. You know, we hadn't many bridges in those days. We had to drive the hogs across the country to the Illinois River to ship them to market. Hogs weren't used to bridges and would refuse to cross. As I heard the story, Lincoln proposed the sewing and it was really done. Years after, when Mr. Lincoln had moved to Springfield, this story was told on him here. I think old Mr. Smoot started it as a reminiscence of Lincoln's early life in New Salem. Some of Lincoln's Petersburg friends, who didn't know so much about the pioneer days, expressed disbelief in the story. They were indignant that such things should be said of Mr. Lincoln. One of them, a member of the Killian family, I think, went all of the way to Springfield to tell Mr. Lincoln what the Petersburg |