CHAPTER XIII.

Ford’s Theatre, where President Lincoln was assassinated.

It was on Good Friday, the 14th of April, the anniversary of Major Anderson’s evacuation of Fort Sumter, “the opening scene of the terrible four years’ civil war,” that President Lincoln was murdered while sitting in a box at a theatre in Washington. The assassin, John Wilkes Booth, was the son of the celebrated actor. He was twenty-seven years of age, and utterly dissipated and eccentric. He was a thorough rebel, and had often exhibited a nickel bullet with which he declared he meant to shoot Lincoln, but his wild and unsteady character had prevented those who heard the threats from attaching importance to them. It had been advertised that President Lincoln and many prominent men would be present at a performance. General Grant, who was to have been of their number, had left that afternoon for Philadelphia. During the day, the assassin and his accomplices, who were all perfectly familiar with the theatre, had carefully made every preparation for the murder. The entrance to the President’s box was commanded by a door, and in order to close this, a piece of wood was provided, which would brace against it so firmly that no one could enter. In order to obtain admission, the spring-locks of the doors were weakened by partially withdrawing the screws; so that, even if locked, they could present no resistance. Many other details were most carefully arranged, including those for Booth’s escape. He had hired a fine horse, andemployed one Spangler, the stage carpenter, to watch it. This man had also prepared the scenes so that he could readily reach the door. In the afternoon he called on Vice-President Johnson, sending up his card, but was denied admission, as that gentleman was busy. It is supposed to have been an act intended to cast suspicion upon Mr. Johnson, who would be Lincoln’s successor. At seven o’clock, Booth, with five of his accomplices, entered a saloon, where they drank together in such a manner as to attract attention. All was ready.

President Lincoln had, during the day, held interviews with many distinguished men, and discussed great measures. He had consulted with Colfax, the Speaker of the House, as to his future policy towards the South, and had seen the Minister to Spain, with several senators. At eleven o’clock he had met the Cabinet and General Grant, and held a most important conference. “When it adjourned, Secretary Stanton said he felt that the Government was stronger than it had ever been;” and after this meeting he again conversed with Mr. Colfax and several leading citizens of his own state. His last remarks in reference to public affairs expressed an interest in the development of California, and he promised to send a telegram in reference to it to Mr. Colfax when he should be in San Francisco. As I have, however, stated with reference to Jacob Thompson, his own lastact was to save the life, as he supposed, of a rebel, while the last act of the rebellion was to take his own.

At nine o’clock, Lincoln and his wife reached the crowded theatre, and were received with great applause. Then the murderer went to his work. Through the crowd in the rear of the dress circle, patiently and softly, he made his way to the door opening into the dark narrow passage leading to the President’s box. Here he showed a card to the servant in attendance, saying that Mr. Lincoln had sent for him, and the man, nothing doubting, admitted him. He entered the vestibule, and secured the door behind him by bracing against it the piece of board already mentioned. He then drew a small silver-mounted Derringer pistol, which he held in his right hand, having a long double-edged dagger in his left. All in the box were absorbed in watching the actors on the stage, except President Lincoln, who was leaning forward, holding aside the flag-curtain of the box with his left hand, with his head slightly turned towards the audience. At this instant Booth passed by the inner door into the box, and stepping softly behind the President, holding the pistol over the chair, shot him through the back of the head. The ball entered on the left side behind the ear, through the brain, and lodged just behind the right eye. President Lincoln made no great movement—his headfell slightly forward, and his eyes closed. He seemed stunned.

As the report of the pistol rang through the house, many of the audience supposed it was part of some new incident introduced into the play. Major Rathbone, who was in the box, saw at once what had occurred, and threw himself on Booth, who dropped the pistol, and freed himself by stabbing his assailant in the arm, near the shoulder. The murderer then rushed to the front of the box, and, in a sharp loud voice, exclaiming,Sic semper tyrannis—the motto of Virginia—leaped on the stage below. As he went over, his spur caught in the American flag which Mr. Lincoln had grasped, and he fell, breaking his leg; but, recovering himself, he rose, brandishing the dagger theatrically, and, facing the audience, cried in stage-style, “The South is avenged,” and rushed from the theatre. He pushed Miss Laura Keene, the actress, out of his way, ran down a dark passage, pursued by Mr. Stewart, sprung to his saddle, and escaped. Mrs. Lincoln had fainted, the excited audience behaved like lunatics, some attempting to climb up the pillars into the box. Through Miss Keene’s presence of mind, the gas was turned down, and the crowd was turned out. And in a minute after, the telegraph had shot all over the United States the news of the murder.

House where the President died.

The President never spoke again. He was takento his home, and died at twenty minutes after seven the next morning. He was unconscious from the moment he was shot.

As the vast crowd, mad with grief, poured forth, weeping and lamenting, they met with another multitude bringing the news that Secretary Seward, lying on his sick-bed, had been nearly murdered. A few days before, he had fractured his arm and jaw by falling from a carriage. While in this condition, an accomplice of Booth’s, named John Payne Powell, tried to enter the room, but was repulsed by Mr. Seward’s son, who was at once knocked down with the butt of a pistol. Rushing into the room, Payne Powell stabbed Mr. Seward three times, and escaped, but not before he had wounded, while fighting desperately, five people in all.

During the night, there was fearful excitement in Washington. Rumours were abroad that the President was murdered—that all the members of the Cabinet had perished, or were wounded—that General Grant had barely escaped with his life—that the rebels had risen, and were seizing on Washington—and that all was confusion. The reality was enough to warrant any degree of doubt and terror. There had been, indeed, a conspiracy to murder all the leading members of Government. General Grant had escaped by going to Philadelphia. It is said that this most immovable of men, when he heardthat President Lincoln was dead, gravely took the cigar from his mouth and quietly said, “Then I must go at once to Washington. I shall yet have time to take my family to Bordertown, and catch the eleven o’clock train.”

Efforts have been made by both parties to confine all the guilt of this murder to Booth alone, and to speak of him as a half-crazed lunatic actor. As the facts stand, the murder had long been threatened by the Southern press, and was apprehended by many people. Booth had so many accomplices, that they expected between them to kill the President, Vice-President, and all the Cabinet. And yet, with every evidence of a widespread conspiracy which had numbers of ready and shrewd agents in the theatre, on the road, and far and wide, even the most zealous Union writers have declared that all this plot had its beginning and end in the brain of a lunatic! It so happened that, just at this time, the North, weary of war and willing to pardon every enemy, had no desire to be vindictive. When Jefferson Davis was tried, Mr. Greeley eagerly stepped forward to be his bail, and there were many more looking to reconstruction and reconciliation—or to office—and averse to drive the foe to extremes. Perhaps they were right; for in great emergencies minor interests must be forgotten. It was the Union-men and the victors who were now nobly calling for peace at any price and forgiveness.But one thing is at least certain. From a letter found April 15th, 1865, in Booth’s trunk, it was shown that the murder was planned before the 4th of March, but fell through then because the accomplices refused to go furtheruntil Richmond could be heard from. So it appears that, though Booth was regarded as the beginning and end of the plot, and solely accountable, yet his tools actually refused to obey him until they had heard from Richmond, the seat of the Rebel Government. This was written by Secretary Stanton to General Dix on April 15th, in the interval between the attack on Lincoln and his death. The entire execution of the plot evidently depended uponnews from Richmond, and not upon Booth’s orders.

Booth himself, escaping across the Potomac, “found, for some days, shelter and aid among the rebel sympathisers of Lower Maryland.” He was, of course, pursued, and, having taken refuge in a barn, was summoned to surrender. This he refused to do, and was then shot dead by a soldier named Boston Corbett, whom I have heard described as a fanatic of the old Puritan stamp. In the words of Arnold, Booth did not live to betray the men who set him on. And I can testify that there was nowhere much desire to push the inquirytoofar. Booth had been shot, the leading Union politicians were busy at reconstruction, and the war was at an end. But, as Arnold declares, Booth and his accomplices were but the wretchedtools of the real conspirators, and it remains uncertain whether the conspirators themselves will ever in this world be dragged to light.

The next day, April 15th, 1865, the whole nation knew the dreadful news, and there was such universal sadness as had never been known within the memory of man. All was gloom and mourning; men walked in the public places, and wept aloud as if they had been alone; women sat with children on the steps of houses, wailing and sobbing. Strangers stopped to converse and cry. I saw in that day more of the human heart than in all the rest of my life. I saw in Philadelphia a great mob surging idly here and there between madness and grief, not knowing what to do. Somebody suggested that the Copperheads were rejoicing over the murder—as they indeed were—and so the mob attacked their houses, but soon gave it over, out of very despondency. By common sympathy, every family began to dress their houses in mourning, and to hang black stuff in all the public places; “before night, the whole nation was shrouded in black.” That day I went from Philadelphia to Pittsburg. This latter town, owing to its factories and immense consumption of bituminous coal, seems at any time as if in mourning; but on that Sunday afternoon, completely swathed and hung in black, with all the world weeping in a drizzling rain, its dolefulness was beyond description. Among the soldiers, thegrief was very great; but with the poor negroes, it was absolute—I may say that to them the murder was in reality a second crucifixion, since, in their religious enthusiasm, they literally believed the President to be a Saviour appointed by God to lead them forth to freedom. To this day there are negro huts, especially in Cuba, where Lincoln’s portrait is preserved as a hidden fetish, and as the picture of the Great Prophet who was not killed, but only taken away, and who will come again, like King Arthur, to lead his people to liberty. At Lincoln’s funeral, the weeping of the coloured folk was very touching.

It was proposed that President Lincoln should be buried in the vault originally constructed for Washington in the Capitol. This would have been most appropriate; but the representatives from Illinois were very urgent that his remains should be taken to his native state, and this was finally done. So, after funeral services in Washington, the body was borne with sad processions from city to city, through Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. At Philadelphia it lay in state in the hall where the Declaration of Independence had been signed. “A half-million of people were in the streets to do honour to all that was left of him who, in that same hall, had declared, four years before, that he would sooner be assassinated than give up the principles of the Declaration of Independence. Hehadbeen assassinated because he would not give them up.”

This death-journey, with its incidents, was very touching. It showed beyond all question that, during his Presidency, the Illinois backwoodsman had found his way to the hearts of the people as no man had ever done. He had been with them in their sorrows and their joys. Those who had wept in the family circle for a son or father lost in the war, now wept again the more because the great chief had also perished. The last victim of the war was its leader.

The final interment of the body of President Lincoln took place at Oak Ridge Cemetery, in Springfield, Illinois. Four years previously, Abraham Lincoln had left a little humble home in that place, and gone to be tried by the people in such a great national crisis as seldom falls to any man to meet. He had indeed “crossed Fox River” in such a turmoil of roaring waters as had never been dreamed of. And, having done all things wisely and well, he passed away with the war, dying with its last murmurs.

The Lincoln Monument, Springfield, Ill.

President Lincoln’s Characteristics—His Love of Humour—His Stories—Pithy Sayings—Repartees—His Dignity.

Whateverthe defects of Lincoln’s character were, it may be doubted whether there was ever so great a man who was, on the whole, so good. Compared to his better qualities, these faults were as nothing; yet they came forth so boldly, owing to the natural candour and manliness on which they grew, that, to petty minds, they obscured what was grand and beautiful. It has been very truly said, that he was the most remarkable product of the remarkable possibilities of American life. Born to extreme poverty, and with fewer opportunities for culture than are open to any British peasant, he succeeded, by sheer perseverance and determination, in making himself a land-surveyor, a lawyer, a politician, and a President. And it is not less evident that even his honesty was the result ofwill, though his kind-heartedness came by nature. What was most remarkable in him was his thorough Republicanism. He was so completely inspired with a sense that theopinions and interests common to the community are right, that to his mind common sense assumed its deepest meaning as a rule of the highest justice. When the whole land was a storm of warring elements, and in the strife between States’ Rights and National Supremacy all precedents were forgotten and every man made his own law, then Abraham Lincoln, watching events, and guided by what he felt was really the sense of the people, sometimes leading, but always following when he could, achieved Emancipation, and brought a tremendous civil war to a quiet end.

Abraham Lincoln was remarkably free from jealousy or personal hatred. His honesty in all things, great or small, was most exemplary. In appointing men, he was more guided by the interests of the country or their fitness than by any other consideration, and avoided favouritism to such an extent that it was once said, in reference to him, that honesty was undoubtedly good policy, but it was hard that an American citizen should be excluded from office because he had, unfortunately, at some time been a friend of the President. Owing to this principle, he was often accused of ingratitude, heartlessness, or indifference. Mr. Lincoln had a quick perception of character, and liked to give men credit for what they understood. Once, when his opinion was asked as to politics, he said, “You must ask Raymond aboutthat; in politics, he is my lieutenant-general.”35The manner in which Lincoln became gradually appreciated was well expressed in the London “Saturday Review,” after his death, when it said that, “during the arduous experience of four years, Mr. Lincoln constantly rose in general estimation by calmness of temper, by an intuitively logical appreciation of the character of the conflict, and by undisputed sincerity.”

Mr. Lincoln was habitually very melancholy, and, as is often the case, sought for a proper balance of mind in the humour of which he had such a rare appreciation. When he had a great duty on hand, he would prepare his mind for it by reading “something funny.” As I write this, I am kindly supplied with an admirable illustration by Mr. Bret Harte. One evening the President, who had summoned his Cabinet at a most critical juncture, instead of proceeding to any business, passed half-an-hour in reading to them the comic papers of Orpheus C. Kerr (office-seeker), which had just appeared. But at last, when more than one gentleman was little less than offended at such levity, Mr. Lincoln rose, laid aside the book, and, with a most serious air, as of one who has brought his mind to a great point, produced and read the slips containing the Proclamation of Emancipation, and this he did with an earnestness and feeling which wereelectric, moving his auditors as they had seldom been moved. By far the best work of humour produced during the war, if it be not indeed the best work of purely American humour ever written, was the Petroleum V. Nasby papers. F. B. Carpenter relates that, on the Saturday before the President left Washington to go to Richmond, he had a most wearisome day, followed by an interview with several callers on business of great importance. Pushing everything aside, he said—“Have you seen the ‘Nasby Papers’?” “No, I have not,” was the answer; “what are they?” “There is a chap out in Ohio,” returned the President, “who has been writing a series of letters in the newspapers over the signature of Petroleum V. Nasby. Some one sent me a collection of them the other day. I am going to write to Petroleum to come down here, and I intend to tell him, if he will communicate his talent to me, I will swap places with him.” Thereupon he arose, went to a drawer in his desk, and taking out the letters, he sat down and read one to the company, finding in their enjoyment of it the temporary excitement and relief which another man would have found in a glass of wine. The moment he ceased, the book was thrown aside, his countenance relapsed into its habitual serious expression, and business was entered upon with the utmost earnestness. The author of these “Nasby Papers” was David R. Locke. After Mr. Lincoln’s death, two comicworks, both well thumbed, indicating that they had been much read, were found in his desk. One was the “Nasby Letters,” and the other “The Book of Copperheads,” written and illustrated by myself and my brother, the late Henry P. Leland. This was kindly lent to me by Mr. M’Pherson, Clerk of the House of Representatives, that I might see how thoroughly Mr. Lincoln had read it. Both of these works were satires on that party in the North which sympathised with the South.

Men of much reading, and with a varied knowledge of life, especially if their minds have somewhat of critical culture, draw their materials for illustration in conversation from many sources. Abraham Lincoln’s education and reading were not such as to supply him with much unworn or refined literary illustration, so he used such material as he had—incidents and stories from the homely life of the West. I have observed that, in Europe, Scotchmen approach most nearly to Americans in this practical application of events and anecdotes. Lincoln excelled in the art of putting things aptly and concisely, and, like many old Romans, would place his whole argument in a brief droll narrative, the point of which would render his whole meaning clear to the dullest intellect. In their way, these were like the illustrated proverbs known as fables. Menenius Agrippa and Lincoln would have been congenial spirits. However coarse or humblethe illustration might be, Mr. Lincoln never failed to convince even the most practised diplomatists or lawyers that he had a marvellous gift for grasping rapidly all the details of a difficulty, and for reducing this knowledge to a practical deduction, and, finally, for presenting the result in a concisely humorous illustration which impressed it on the memory.

Mr. Lincoln was in a peculiar way an original thinker, without being entirely an originator, as a creative genius is. His stories were seldom or never his own inventions; hundreds of them were well known, but, in the words of Dr. Thompson, “however common his ideas were to other minds, however simple when stated, they bore the stamp of individuality, and became in some way his own.” During his life, and within a few months after his death, I made a large MS. collection of Lincolniana. Few of the stories were altogether new, but most were original in application. It is said that, being asked if a very stingy neighbour of his was a man ofmeans, Mr. Lincoln replied that he ought to be, for he was about themeanestman round there. This may or may not be authentic, but it is eminently Lincolnian. So with the jests of Tyll Eulenspiegel, or of any other great droll; he invariably becomes the nucleus of a certain kind of humour.

Unconsciously, Abraham Lincoln became a great proverbialist. Scores of his pithy sayings are currentamong the people. “In giving freedom to the slave, we assure freedom to the free,” is the sum-total of all the policy which urged Emancipation for the sake of the white man. “This struggle of to-day is for a vast future also,” expressed a great popular opinion. “We are making history rapidly,” was very flattering to all who shared in the war. “If slavery is not wrong,nothingis wrong,” spoke the very extreme of conviction. The whole people took his witty caution “not to swap horses in the middle of a stream.” When it was always urged by the Democrats that emancipation implied amalgamation, he answered—“I do not understand that because I do not want a negro woman for a slave, I must necessarily want her for a wife.” This popular Democratic shibboleth, “How would you like your daughter to marry a negro?” was keenly satirised by Nasby. I have myself known a Democratic procession in Philadelphia to contain a car with a parcel of girls dressed in white, and the motto, “Fathers, protect us from Black Husbands.” To which the Republican banner simply replied, “OurDaughters do not want to marry Black Husbands.”

Abraham Lincoln was always moderate in argument. Once, when Judge Douglas attempted to parry an argument by impeaching the veracity of a senator whom Mr. Lincoln had quoted, he answered that the question was not one of veracity, but simply one of argument. He said—“Euclid, by a course ofreasoning, proves that all the angles in a triangle are equal to two right angles; now, would you undertake to disprove that assertion by calling Euclid a liar?”

“I never did invent anything original—I am only aretail dealer,” is very characteristic of Mr. Lincoln. He was speaking of the stories credited to him, and yet the modesty of the remark, coupled with the droll distinction between original wholesale manufacturers and retail dealers, is both original and quaint.

Mr. Lincoln was very ingenious in finding reasons for being merciful. On one occasion, a young soldier who had shown himself very brave in war, and had been severely wounded, after a time deserted. Being re-captured, he was under sentence of death, and President Lincoln was of course petitioned for his pardon. It was a difficult case; the young man deserved to die, and desertion was sadly injuring the army. The President mused solemnly, until a happy thought struck him. “Did you say he was once badly wounded?” he asked of the applicant for a pardon. “He was.” “Then, as the Scripture says that in the shedding of blood is the remission of sins, I guess we’ll have to let him off this time.”

When Mr. Lincoln was grossly and foolishly flattered, as happened once in the case of a gushing “interviewer,” who naïvely put his own punishment into print, he could quiz the flatterer with great ingenuity by apparently falling into the victim’shumour. When only moderately praised, he retorted gently. Once, when a gentleman complimented him on having no vices, such as drinking or smoking, “That is a doubtful compliment,” answered Mr. Lincoln. “I recollect once being outside a stage-coach in Illinois, when a man offered me a cigar. I told him I had no vices. He said nothing, but smoked for some time, and then growled out, ‘It’s my opinion that people who have no vices have plaguy few virtues.’”

President Lincoln was not merely obliging or condescending in allowing every one to see him; in his simple Republicanism, he believed that the people who had made him President had a right to talk to him. One day a friend found him half-amused, half-irritated. “You met an old lady as you entered,” he said. “Well, she wanted me to give her an order for stopping the pay of a Treasury clerk who owes her a board-bill of seventy dollars.” His visitor expressed surprise that he did not adopt the usual military plan, under which every application to see the general commanding had to be filtered through a sieve of officers, who allowed no one to take up the chief’s time except those who had business of sufficient importance. “Ah yes,” the President replied, “such things may do very well for you military people, with your arbitrary rule. But the office of a President is a very different one, and the affair is very different. For myself, I feel, though the tax on my time isheavy, that no hours of my day are better employed than those which thus bring me again into direct contact with the people. All serves to renew in me a clearer and more vivid image of that great popular assemblage out of which I sprung, and to which, at the end of two years, I must return.” To such an extreme did he carry this, and such weariness did it cause him, that, at the end of four years, he who had been one of the strongest men living, was no longer strong or vigorous. But he always had a good-natured story, even for his tormentors. Once, when a Kentucky farmer wanted him at a critical period of the Emancipation question to exert himself and turn the whole machinery of government to aid him in recovering two slaves, President Lincoln said this reminded him of Jack Chase, the captain of a western steamboat. It is a terrible thing to steer a boat down the roaring rapids, where the mistake of an inch may cause wreck, and it requires the extreme attention of the pilot. One day, when the boat was plunging and wallowing along the boiling current, and Jack at the wheel was using all care to keep in the perilous channel, a boy pulled his coat-tail and cried, “Say, Mister Captain! I wish you’d stop your boat a minute.I’ve lost my apple overboard.”

In self-conscious “deportment,” Mr. Lincoln was utterly deficient; in true unconsciousdignity, he was unsurpassed. He would sit down on the stone-copingoutside the White House to write on his card the directions by which a poor man might be relieved from his sorrow, looking as he did so as if he were sitting on the pavement; or he would actually lie down on the grass beside a common soldier, and go over his papers with him, while his carriage waited, and great men gathered around; but no man ever dared to be impertinent, or unduly familiar with him. Once an insolent officer accused him to his face of injustice, and he arose, lifted the man by the collar, and carried him out, kicking. But this is, I believe, the only story extant of any one having treated him with insolence.

Hunting popularity by means of petty benevolence is so usual with professional politicians, that many may suspect that Lincoln was not unselfish in his acts of kindness. But I myself know of one instance of charity exercised by him, which was certainly most disinterested. One night, a poor old man, whose little farm had been laid waste during the war, and who had come to Washington, hoping that Government would repay his loss, found himself penniless in the streets of the capital. A person whom I know very well saw him accost the President, who listened to his story, and then, writing something on a piece of paper, gave it to him, and with it a ten-dollar note. The President went his way, and my acquaintance going up to the old man, who was deeply moved,asked him what was the matter. “I thank God,” said the old man, using a quaint American phrase, “that there are somewhitepeople36in this town. I’ve been tryin’ to get somebody to listen to me, and nobody would, because I’m a poor foolish old body. But just now a stranger listened to all my story, and give me this here.” He said this, showing the money and the paper, which contained a request to Secretary Stanton to have the old man’s claim investigated at once, and, if just, promptly satisfied. When it is remembered that Lincoln went into office and out of it a poor man, or at least a very poor man for one in his position, his frequent acts of charity appear doubly creditable.

Whatever may be said of Lincoln, he was always simply and trulya good man. He was a good father to his children, and a good President to the people, whom he loved as if they had been his children. America and the rest of the world have had many great rulers, but never one who, like Lincoln, was so much one of the people, or who was so sympathetic in their sorrows and trials.

[FROM THE NEW YORK EVENING POST, AUGUST 16, 1867.]

To the Editor of The Evening Post:

In October, 1859, Messrs. Joseph H. Richards, J. M. Pettingill, and S. W. Tubbs called on me at the office of the Ohio State Agency, 25 William Street, and requested me to write to the Hon. Thomas Corwin of Ohio, and the Hon. Abraham Lincoln of Illinois, and invite them to lecture in a course of lectures these young gentlemen proposed for the winter in Plymouth Church, Brooklyn.

I wrote the letters as requested, and offered as compensation for each lecture, as I was authorized, the sum of $200. The proposition to lecture was accepted by Messrs. Corwin and Lincoln. Mr. Corwin delivered his lecture in Plymouth Church, as he was on his way to Washington to attend Congress; Mr. Lincoln could not lecture until late in the season, and the proposition was agreed to by the gentlemen named, and accepted by Mr. Lincoln, as the following letter will show:

“Danville, Illinois,November 13, 1859.“James A. Briggs, Esq.“Dear Sir: Yours of the 1st inst., closing with my proposition for compromise, was duly received. I will be on hand, and in due time will notify you of the exact day. I believe, after all, I shall make a political speech of it. You have no objection?“I would like to know in advance, whether I am also to speak in New York.“Very, very glad your election went right.“Yours truly,“A. Lincoln.“P.S.—I am here at court, but my address is still at Springfield, Ill.”

“Danville, Illinois,November 13, 1859.

“James A. Briggs, Esq.

“Dear Sir: Yours of the 1st inst., closing with my proposition for compromise, was duly received. I will be on hand, and in due time will notify you of the exact day. I believe, after all, I shall make a political speech of it. You have no objection?

“I would like to know in advance, whether I am also to speak in New York.

“Very, very glad your election went right.

“Yours truly,“A. Lincoln.

“P.S.—I am here at court, but my address is still at Springfield, Ill.”

In due time Mr. Lincoln wrote me that he would deliver the lecture, a political one, on the evening of the 27th of February, 1860. This was rather late in the season for a lecture, and the young gentlemen who were responsible were doubtful about its success, as the expenses were large. It was stipulated that the lecture was to be in Plymouth Church, Brooklyn; I requested and urged that the lecture should be delivered at the Cooper Institute. They were fearful it would not pay expenses—$350. I thought it would.

In order to relieve Messrs. Richards, Pettingill, and Tubbs of all responsibility, I called upon some of the officers of “The Young Men’s Republican Union,” and proposed that they should take Mr. Lincoln, and that the lecture should be delivered under their auspices. They respectfully declined.

I next called upon Mr. Simeon Draper, then president of “The Draper Republican Union Club of New York,” and proposed to him that his “Union” take Mr. Lincoln and the lecture, and assume the responsibility of the expenses. Mr. Draper and his friends declined, and Mr. Lincoln was left on the hands of “the original Jacobs.”

After considerable discussion, it was agreed on the part of the young gentlemen that the lecture should be delivered in the Cooper Institute, if I would agree to share one-fourth of the expenses, if the sale of the tickets (25 cents) for the lecture did not meet the outlay. To this I assented, and the lecture was advertised to be delivered in the Cooper Institute, on the evening of the 27th of February.

Mr. Lincoln read the notice of the lecture in the papers, and, without any knowledge of the arrangement, was somewhat surprised to learn that he was first to make his appearance before a New York audience, instead of a Plymouth Church audience. A notice of the proposed lecture appeared in the New York papers, and theTimesspoke of him “as a lawyer who had some local reputation in Illinois.”

At my personal solicitationMr. William Cullen Bryantpresided as chairman of the meeting, and introduced Mr. Lincoln for the first time to a New York audience.

The lecture was a wonderful success; it has become a part of the history of the country. Its remarkable ability was everywhere acknowledged, and after the 27th of February the name of Mr. Lincoln was a familiar one to all the people of the East. After Mr. Lincoln closed his lecture, Mr. David Dudley Field, Mr. James W. Nye, Mr. Horace Greeley, and myself were called out by the audience and made short speeches. I remember of saying then, “One of three gentlemen will be our standard-bearer in the presidential contest of this year: the distinguished Senator of New York, Mr. Seward; the late able and accomplished Governor of Ohio, Mr. Chase; or the ‘Unknown Knight’ who entered the political lists against the Bois Guilbert of Democracy on the prairies of Illinois in 1858, and unhorsed him—Abraham Lincoln.” Some friends joked me after the meeting as not being a “good prophet.” The lecture was over—all the expenses were paid, and I was handed by the gentlemen interested the sum of $4.25 as my share of the profits, as they would have called on me if there had been a deficiency in the receipts to meet the expenses.

Immediately after the lecture, Mr. Lincoln went to Exeter, N. H., to visit his son Robert, then at school there, and I sent him a check for $200. Mr. Tubbs informed me a few weeks ago that after the check was paid at the Park Bank he tore it up; but that he would give $200 for the check if it could be restored with the endorsement of “A. Lincoln,” as it was made payable to the order of Mr. Lincoln.

After the return of Mr. Lincoln to New York from the East, where he had made several speeches, he said to me, “I have seen what all the New York papers said about that thing of mine in the Cooper Institute, with the exception of the New YorkEvening Post, and I would like to know what Mr. Bryant thought of it;” and he then added, “It is worth a visit from Springfield, Illinois, to New York to make the acquaintance of such a man asWilliam CullenBryant.” At Mr. Lincoln’s request, I sent him a copy of theEvening Postwith a notice of his lecture.

On returning from Mr. Beecher’s Church, on Sunday, in company with Mr. Lincoln, as we were passing the post-office, I remarked to him, “Mr. Lincoln, I wish you would take particular notice of what a dark and dismal place we have here for a post-office, and I do it for this reason: I think your chance for being the next President is equal to that of any man in the country. When you are President will you recommend an appropriation of a million of dollars for a suitable location for a post-office in this city?” With a significant gesture Mr. Lincoln remarked, “I will make a note of that.”

On going up Broadway with Mr. Lincoln in the evening, from the Astor House, to hear the Rev. Dr. E. H. Chapin, he said to me, “When I was East several gentlemen made about the same remarks to me that you did to-day about the Presidency; they thought my chances were about equal to the best.”

James A. Briggs.

N.B.—The writers of Mr. Lincoln’s Biography have things considerably mixed about Mr. Lincoln going to the Five Points Mission School, at the Five Points, in New York, that he found his way there alone, etc., etc. Mr. Lincoln went there in the afternoon with his old friend Hiram Barney, Esq., and after Mr. B. had informed Mr. Barlow, the Superintendent, who the stranger with him was, Mr. Barlow requested Mr. Lincoln to speak to the children, which he did. I met Mr. Lincoln at Mr. Barney’s at tea, just after this pleasant, and to him strange, visit at the Five Points Mission School.

J. A. B.

FOOTNOTES:1Lamon, c. i. p. 1.2Addressed to J. W. Fell, March, 1872.3Lamon, p. 7.4In 1865, I saw many companies and a few regiments “mustered out” in Nashville, Tennessee. In the most intelligent companies, only one man in eight or nine could sign his name. Fewer still could read.—C. G. L.5J. G. Holland, p. 22.6J. G. Holland, “Life of Lincoln,” p. 28. The children probably slept on the earth. The writer has seen a man, owning hundreds of acres of rich bottom land, living in a log-hut, nearly such as is here described. There was only a single stool, an iron pot, a knife, and a gun in the cabin, but no bedstead, the occupant and his wife sleeping in two cavities in the dirt-floor. Such had been their home for years.7Lamon, vol. i., pp. 31 and 40. Abraham’s father is said by Dennis Hanks (from whom Mr. Herndon, Lamon’s authority, derived much information) to have loved his son, but it is certain that, at the same time, he treated him very cruelly. Hanks admits that he had several times seen little Abraham knocked headlong from the fence by his father, while civilly answering questions put by travellers as to their way.8W. H. Herndon, who was for many years the law-partner of Abraham Lincoln, in a letter to me, written not long after the murder of his old friend, earnestly asserted his opinion that the late President was a greater man than General Washington, founding his opinion on the greater difficulties which he subdued.—C. G. L.9“Abraham’s poverty of books was the wealth of his life.”—J. G. Holland.10Lamon, p. 54.11Holland and Lamon.12VideRipley and Dana’s “Cyclopædia;” also, article from the Boston “Commercial Advertiser,” cited by Lamon.13Raymond, “Life and Public Services of Abraham Lincoln,” p. 25.14Mr. Lincoln “spoke forgetfully” on this occasion. Owing to the drunkenness and insubordination of his men, which he could not help, he was once obliged to carry a wooden sword for two days.—Lamon, p. 104. On a previous occasion, he had been under arrest, and was deprived ofhis swordfor one day, for firing a pistol within ten steps of camp.—Ibid., p. 103.15Holland, p. 53.16Holland passes over the wisdom or unwisdom of these measures without comment. According to Ford (“History of Illinois”) and Lamon, the whole state was by them “simply bought up and bribed to support the most senseless and disastrous policy which ever crippled the energies of a growing country.” It is certain that, in any country where the internal resources are enormous and the inhabitants intelligent, enterprising, and poor, such legislation will always find favour.17His biographies abound in proof of this. “He believed that a man, in order to effect anything, should work through organisations of men.”—Holland, p. 92. It is very difficult for any one not brought up in the United States to realise the degree to which this idea can influence men, and determine their whole moral nature.18It is a matter of regret that, when Lincoln, long after, went to see his idol and ideal, he was greatly disappointed in him.—Holland, p. 95. Lamon denies this visit, but does not disprove it.19Lamon, p. 275, says there can be no doubt that Mr. Lincolnwouldhave cheerfully made such a dishonourable and tricky agreement, but inclines to think he did not. It is very doubtful whether the compact, if it existed at all, was not made simply for the purpose of excluding the Democrats.20Holland, p. 82. A picayune is six cents, or 3d.21There were no free schools in South Carolina until 1852, and it was a serious crime to teach a negro to read.22Arnold, “History of Lincoln,” p. 33.23A law by which slaves who had escaped to free states were returned to their owners. The writer, as a boy, has seen many cruel instances of the manner in which the old slave law was carried out. But while great pains were taken to hunt down and return slaves who had escaped to free states, there was literally nothing done to return free coloured people who had been inveigled or carried by force to the South, and there sold as slaves. It was believed that, at one time, hardly a day passed during which a free black was not thus entrapped from Pennsylvania. The writer once knew, in Philadelphia, a boy of purely white blood, but of dark complexion, who narrowly escaped being kidnapped by downright violence, that he might be “sent South.” White children were commonly terrified by parents or nurses with “the kidnappers,” who would black their faces, and sell them. Even in the Northern cities, there were few grown-up negro men who had not, at one time or another, been hunted by the lower classes of whites through the streets in the most incredibly barbarous manner.24Arnold, p. 95.25George Bancroft, “Oration on Lincoln,” pp. 13, 14.26David R. Locke, who, under the name of Petroleum V. Nasby, wrote political satires much admired by Mr. Lincoln.27See Appendix.28This honour had only been twice conferred before—once on Washington, and once by brevet on General W. Scott.—Badeau’s “Life of Grant.”29Those who sympathised with the South were called Copperheads, after the deadly and treacherous snake of that name common in the Western and Southern United States.30Sherman’s Report, 1865; also, Report of Secretary of War, 1865.31Stephens’ Statement, Augusta, Georgia, “Chronicle,” June 17th, 1875. Quoted by Dr. Brockett, p. 579.32It should be said that Meade, under Grant’s orders, was, however, now one of Lee’s most vigorous pursuers.33VideFrank Moore’s “Rebellion Record,” 1864-5—Rumours and Incidents, p. 9.34See “Trial and Sentence of Beal and Kennedy,” M’Pherson’s “Political History,” pp. 552, 553.35The late Henry J. Raymond, then editor of the New York Times.36“White people”—civilised, decent, kind-hearted people.

1Lamon, c. i. p. 1.

2Addressed to J. W. Fell, March, 1872.

3Lamon, p. 7.

4In 1865, I saw many companies and a few regiments “mustered out” in Nashville, Tennessee. In the most intelligent companies, only one man in eight or nine could sign his name. Fewer still could read.—C. G. L.

5J. G. Holland, p. 22.

6J. G. Holland, “Life of Lincoln,” p. 28. The children probably slept on the earth. The writer has seen a man, owning hundreds of acres of rich bottom land, living in a log-hut, nearly such as is here described. There was only a single stool, an iron pot, a knife, and a gun in the cabin, but no bedstead, the occupant and his wife sleeping in two cavities in the dirt-floor. Such had been their home for years.

7Lamon, vol. i., pp. 31 and 40. Abraham’s father is said by Dennis Hanks (from whom Mr. Herndon, Lamon’s authority, derived much information) to have loved his son, but it is certain that, at the same time, he treated him very cruelly. Hanks admits that he had several times seen little Abraham knocked headlong from the fence by his father, while civilly answering questions put by travellers as to their way.

8W. H. Herndon, who was for many years the law-partner of Abraham Lincoln, in a letter to me, written not long after the murder of his old friend, earnestly asserted his opinion that the late President was a greater man than General Washington, founding his opinion on the greater difficulties which he subdued.—C. G. L.

9“Abraham’s poverty of books was the wealth of his life.”—J. G. Holland.

10Lamon, p. 54.

11Holland and Lamon.

12VideRipley and Dana’s “Cyclopædia;” also, article from the Boston “Commercial Advertiser,” cited by Lamon.

13Raymond, “Life and Public Services of Abraham Lincoln,” p. 25.

14Mr. Lincoln “spoke forgetfully” on this occasion. Owing to the drunkenness and insubordination of his men, which he could not help, he was once obliged to carry a wooden sword for two days.—Lamon, p. 104. On a previous occasion, he had been under arrest, and was deprived ofhis swordfor one day, for firing a pistol within ten steps of camp.—Ibid., p. 103.

15Holland, p. 53.

16Holland passes over the wisdom or unwisdom of these measures without comment. According to Ford (“History of Illinois”) and Lamon, the whole state was by them “simply bought up and bribed to support the most senseless and disastrous policy which ever crippled the energies of a growing country.” It is certain that, in any country where the internal resources are enormous and the inhabitants intelligent, enterprising, and poor, such legislation will always find favour.

17His biographies abound in proof of this. “He believed that a man, in order to effect anything, should work through organisations of men.”—Holland, p. 92. It is very difficult for any one not brought up in the United States to realise the degree to which this idea can influence men, and determine their whole moral nature.

18It is a matter of regret that, when Lincoln, long after, went to see his idol and ideal, he was greatly disappointed in him.—Holland, p. 95. Lamon denies this visit, but does not disprove it.

19Lamon, p. 275, says there can be no doubt that Mr. Lincolnwouldhave cheerfully made such a dishonourable and tricky agreement, but inclines to think he did not. It is very doubtful whether the compact, if it existed at all, was not made simply for the purpose of excluding the Democrats.

20Holland, p. 82. A picayune is six cents, or 3d.

21There were no free schools in South Carolina until 1852, and it was a serious crime to teach a negro to read.

22Arnold, “History of Lincoln,” p. 33.

23A law by which slaves who had escaped to free states were returned to their owners. The writer, as a boy, has seen many cruel instances of the manner in which the old slave law was carried out. But while great pains were taken to hunt down and return slaves who had escaped to free states, there was literally nothing done to return free coloured people who had been inveigled or carried by force to the South, and there sold as slaves. It was believed that, at one time, hardly a day passed during which a free black was not thus entrapped from Pennsylvania. The writer once knew, in Philadelphia, a boy of purely white blood, but of dark complexion, who narrowly escaped being kidnapped by downright violence, that he might be “sent South.” White children were commonly terrified by parents or nurses with “the kidnappers,” who would black their faces, and sell them. Even in the Northern cities, there were few grown-up negro men who had not, at one time or another, been hunted by the lower classes of whites through the streets in the most incredibly barbarous manner.

24Arnold, p. 95.

25George Bancroft, “Oration on Lincoln,” pp. 13, 14.

26David R. Locke, who, under the name of Petroleum V. Nasby, wrote political satires much admired by Mr. Lincoln.

27See Appendix.

28This honour had only been twice conferred before—once on Washington, and once by brevet on General W. Scott.—Badeau’s “Life of Grant.”

29Those who sympathised with the South were called Copperheads, after the deadly and treacherous snake of that name common in the Western and Southern United States.

30Sherman’s Report, 1865; also, Report of Secretary of War, 1865.

31Stephens’ Statement, Augusta, Georgia, “Chronicle,” June 17th, 1875. Quoted by Dr. Brockett, p. 579.

32It should be said that Meade, under Grant’s orders, was, however, now one of Lee’s most vigorous pursuers.

33VideFrank Moore’s “Rebellion Record,” 1864-5—Rumours and Incidents, p. 9.

34See “Trial and Sentence of Beal and Kennedy,” M’Pherson’s “Political History,” pp. 552, 553.

35The late Henry J. Raymond, then editor of the New York Times.

36“White people”—civilised, decent, kind-hearted people.

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