THE "CHIN FLY" AS AN INCENTIVE TO WORK
While he was President, Mr. Lincoln told Henry J. Raymond, the founder of the New YorkTimes, the following story of an experience he had about this time, while working with his stepbrother in a cornfield:
"Raymond," said he, "you were brought up on a farm, were you not? Then you know what a 'chin fly' is. My brother and I were plowing corn once, I driving the horse and he holding the plow. The horse was lazy, but on one occasion he rushed across the field so that I, with my long legs, could scarcely keep pace with him. On reaching the end of the furrow I found an enormous chin fly fastened upon the horse and I knocked it off. My brother asked me what I did that for. I told him I didn't want the old horse bitten in that way.
"'Why,' said my brother,'that's all that made him go.'"
"Now if Mr. Chase (the Secretary of the Treasury) has a presidential 'chin fly' biting him, I'm not going to knock it off, if it will only make his department go."
"OLD BLUE NOSE'S" HIRED MAN
It seemed to be the "irony of fate" that Abe should have to work for "Old Blue Nose" as a farm hand. But the lad liked Mrs. Crawford, and Lincoln's sister Nancy lived there, at the same time, as maid-of-all-work. Another attraction, the Crawford family was rich, in Abe's eyes, in possessing several books, which he was glad of the chance to read.
Mrs. Crawford told many things about young Lincoln that might otherwise have been lost. She said "Abe was very polite, in his awkward way, taking off his hat to me and bowing. He was a sensitive lad, never coming where he was not wanted. He was tender and kind—like his sister.
"He liked to hang around and gossip and joke with the women. After he had wasted too much time this way, he would exclaim:
"'Well, this won't buy the child a coat,' and the long-legged hired boy would strideaway and catch up with the others."
One day when he was asked to kill a hog, Abe answered promptly that he had never done that, "but if you'll risk the hog, I'll risk myself!"
Mrs. Crawford told also about "going to meeting" in those primitive days:
"At that time we thought it nothing to go eight or ten miles. The ladies did not stop for the want of a shawl or riding dress, or horses. In the winter time they would put on their husbands' old overcoats, wrap up their little ones, and take two or three of them on their beasts, while their husbands would walk.
"In winter time they would hold church in some of the neighbors' houses. At such times they were always treated with the utmost kindness; a basket of apples, or turnips—apples were scarce in those days—was set out. Sometimes potatoes were used for a 'treat.' In old Mr. Linkhorn's (Lincoln's) house a plate of potatoes, washed and pared nicely, was handed around."
FEATS OF STRENGTH
Meanwhile the boy was growing to tall manhood, both in body and in mind. The neighbors,who failed to mark his mental growth, were greatly impressed with his physical strength. The Richardson family, with whom Abe seemed to have lived as hired man, used to tell marvelous tales of his prowess, some of which may have grown somewhat in the telling. Mr. Richardson declared that the young man could carry as heavy a load as "three ordinary men." He saw Abe pick up and walk away with "a chicken house, made up of poles pinned together, and covered, that weighed at least six hundred if not much more."
When the Richardsons were building their corn-crib, Abe saw three or four men getting ready to carry several huge posts or timbers on "sticks" between them. Watching his chance, he coolly stepped in, shouldered all the timbers at once and walked off alone with them, carrying them to the place desired. He performed these feats off-hand, smiling down in undisguised pleasure as the men around him expressed their amazement. It seemed to appeal to his sense of humor as well as his desire to help others out of their difficulties.
Another neighbor, "old Mr. Wood," said of Abe: "He could strike, with a maul, a heavierblow than any other man. He could sink an ax deeper into wood than any man I ever saw."
Dennis Hanks used to tell that if you heard Abe working in the woods alone, felling trees, you would think three men, at least, were at work there—the trees came crashing down so fast.
On one occasionafterhe had been threshing wheat for Mr. Turnham, the farmer-constable whose "Revised Statutes of Indiana" Abe had devoured, Lincoln was walking back, late at night from Gentryville, where he and a number of cronies had spent the evening. As the youths were picking their way along the frozen road, they saw a dark object on the ground by the roadside. They found it to be an old sot they knew too well lying there, dead drunk. Lincoln stopped, and the rest, knowing the tenderness of his heart, exclaimed:
"Aw, let him alone, Abe. 'Twon't do him no good. He's made his bed, let him lay in it!"
The rest laughed—for the "bed" was freezing mud. But Abe could see no humor in the situation. The man might be run over, or freeze to death. To abandon any human being in such a plight seemed too monstrous to him. The otheryoung men hurried on in the cold, shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads—"Poor Abe!—he's a hopeless case," and left Lincoln to do the work of a Good Samaritan alone. He had no beast on which to carry the dead weight of the drunken man, whom he vainly tried, again and again, to arouse to a sense of the predicament he was in. At last the young man took up the apparently lifeless body of the mud-covered man in his strong arms, and carried him a quarter of a mile to a deserted cabin, where he made up a fire and warmed and nursed the old drunkard the rest of that night. Then Abe gave him "a good talking to," and the unfortunate man is said to have been so deeply impressed by the young man's kindness that he heeded the temperance lecture and never again risked his life as he had done that night. When the old man told John Hanks of Abe's Herculean effort to save him, he added:
"It was mighty clever in Abe Lincoln to tote me to a warm fire that cold night."
IN JONES' STORE
While Abe was working for the farmers round about his father's farm he spent many of hisevenings in Jones' grocery "talking politics" and other things with the men, who also gathered there. Mr. Jones took a Louisville paper, which young Lincoln read eagerly. Slavery was a live political topic then, and Abe soon acquired quite a reputation as a stump orator.
As he read the "Indiana Statutes" he was supposed to "know more law than the constable." In fact, his taste for the law was so pronounced at that early age that he went, sometimes, fifteen miles to Boonville, as a spectator in the county court. Once he heard a lawyer of ability, named Breckinridge, defend an accused murderer there. It was a great plea; the tall country boy knew it and, pushing through the crowd, reached out his long, coatless arm to congratulate the lawyer, who looked at the awkward youth in amazement and passed on without acknowledging Abe's compliment. The two men met again in Washington, more than thirty years later, under very different circumstances.
But there were things other than politics discussed at the country store, and Abe Lincoln often raised a laugh at the expense of some braggart or bully. There was "Uncle Jimmy" Larkins, who posed as the hero of his ownstories. In acknowledgment of Abe's authority as a judge of horse flesh, "Uncle Jimmy" was boasting of his horse's superiority in a recent fox chase. But young Lincoln seemed to pay no heed. Larkins repeated:
"Abe, I've got the best horse in the world; he won the race and never drew a long breath."
Young Lincoln still appeared not to be paying attention. "Uncle Jimmy" persisted. He was bound to make Abe hear. He reiterated:
"I say, Abe, I have got the best horse in the world; after all that running he never drew a long breath."
"Well, Larkins," drawled young Lincoln, "why don't you tell us how manyshortbreaths he drew." The laugh was on the boastful and discomfited Larkins.
TRYING TO TEACH ASTRONOMY TO A YOUNG GIRL
Abe's efforts were not always so well received, for he was sometimes misunderstood. The neighbors used to think the Lincoln boy was secretly in love with Kate Roby, the pretty girl he had helped out of a dilemma in the spelling class. Several years after that episode, Abe and Kate were sitting on a log, about sunset, talking:
"Abe," said Kate, "the sun's goin' down."
"Reckon not," Abe answered, "we're coming up, that's all."
"Don't you s'pose I got eyes?"
"Yes, I know you have; but it's the earth that goes round. The sun stands as still as a tree. When we're swung round so we can't see it any more, the light's cut off and we call it night."
"What a fool you are, Abe Lincoln!" exclaimed Kate, who was not to blame for her ignorance, for astronomy had never been taught in Crawford's school.
THE EARLY DEATH OF SISTER NANCY
While brother and sister were working for "Old Blue Nose," Aaron Grigsby, "Nat's" brother, was "paying attention" to Nancy Lincoln. They were soon married. Nancy was only eighteen. When she was nineteen Mrs. Aaron Grigsby died. Her love for Abe had almost amounted to idolatry. In some ways she resembled him. He, in turn, was deeply devoted to his only sister.
The family did not stay long at Pigeon Creek after the loss of Nancy, who was buried, not beside her mother, but with the Grigsbys in thechurchyard of the old Pigeon Creek meeting-house.
EARNING HIS FIRST DOLLAR
Much as Abraham Lincoln had "worked out" as a hired man, his father kept the money, as he had a legal right to do, not giving the boy any of the results of his hard labor, for, strong as he was, his pay was only twenty-five or thirty cents a day. Abe accepted this as right and proper. He never complained of it.
After he became President, Lincoln told his Secretary of State the following story of the first dollar he ever had for his own:
"Seward," he said, "did you ever hear how I earned my first dollar?" "No," replied Seward. "Well," said he, "I was about eighteen years of age . . . and had constructed a flatboat. . . . A steamer was going down the river. We have, you know, no wharves on the western streams, and the custom was, if passengers were at any of the landings they had to go out in a boat, the steamer stopping and taking them on board. I was contemplating my new boat, and wondering whether I could make it stronger or improve it in any part, when two men with trunks camedown to the shore in carriages, and looking at the different boats, singled out mine, and asked:
"'Who owns this?'
"I answered modestly, 'I do.'
"'Will you,' said one of them, 'take us and our trunks out to the steamer?'
"'Certainly,' said I. I was very glad to have a chance of earning something, and supposed that they would give me a couple of 'bits.' The trunks were put in my boat, the passengers seated themselves on them, and I sculled them out to the steamer. They got on board, and I lifted the trunks and put them on deck. The steamer was moving away when I called out:
"'You have forgotten to pay me.'
"Each of them took from his pocket a silver half-dollar and threw it on the bottom of my boat. I could scarcely believe my eyes as I picked up the money. You may think it was a very little thing, and in these days it seems to me like a trifle, but it was a most important incident in my life. I could scarcely credit that I, a poor boy, had earned a dollar in less than a day—that by honest work I had earned a dollar. I was a more hopeful and thoughtful boy from that time."
"FOLLOWING THE RIVER"
Thomas Lincoln had become restless again. Fourteen years was a long time for him to live in one place. Abe was seven years old when they came over from Kentucky, and he was now nearly twenty-one. During that time Thomas had lost his wife, Nancy, and his only daughter, who bore her mother's name. While the land he had chosen was fertile enough, the want of water had always been a sad drawback. The desire to try his fortunes in a newer country had taken possession of him.
John Hanks had gone to Illinois, and had written back that everything was more favorable there for making a living. Thomas Lincoln had not been successful in Indiana. His children's prospects seemed to be against them. After working as a hired hand on the surrounding farms, Abe had served for a time as a ferryman, and, working by the river, had learned tobuild the boat with which he had earned his first dollar.
As George Washington longed to go to sea, Abraham Lincoln seems to have yearned to "follow the river." He tried to hire out as deck hand, but his age was against him. He soon had a chance to go "down river" to New Orleans, with his friend, Allen Gentry, the son of the man for whom Gentryville was named. Allen afterward married Kate Roby. A flatboat belonging to Allen's father was loaded with bacon and other farm merchandise for the southern market. Allen went in charge of the expedition, and young Lincoln was engaged as "bow hand." They started in April, 1828. There was nothing to do but steer the unwieldy craft with the current. The flatboat was made to float down stream only. It was to be broken up at New Orleans and sold for lumber.
The two young men from Indiana made the trip without incident until they came to the plantation of Madame Duchesne, six miles from Baton Rouge, where they moored their raft for the night. There they heard the stealthy footsteps of midnight marauders on board.
Young Gentry was first aroused. He sprangup and found a gang of lawless negroes on deck, evidently looking for plunder, and thinking so many of them could easily cow or handle the two white men.
"Bring the guns, Abe!" shouted Allen. "Shoot them!" Abraham Lincoln was among them, brandishing a club—they had no guns. The negroes were frightened not only by the fierce, commanding form of their tall adversary, but also by his giant strength. The two white men routed the whole black crew, but Abraham Lincoln received a wound in the encounter, and bore the scar of it to his dying day.
The trip required about three months, going and returning, and the two adventurers from Gentryville came back in June, with good stories of their experiences to tell in Jones' store.
Not long after this Thomas Lincoln, in response to an urgent invitation from John Hanks, decided to move to Illinois. It took a long time, after gathering in the fall crops, for Thomas Lincoln to have a "vandoo" and sell his corn and hogs. As for selling his farm, it had never really belonged to him. He simply turned it over to Mr. Gentry, who held a mortgage on it.It was February, 1830, before the pioneer wagon got under way. The emigrant family consisted of Thomas Lincoln and Sarah, his wife, Abraham, and John Johnston; Sarah and Matilda Johnston were both married, and, with their husbands, a young man named Hall and Dennis Hanks, formed the rest of the party. The women rode with their household goods in a great covered cart drawn by two yoke of oxen.
A TRAVELING PEDDLER
Merchant Jones, for whom Abe had worked that fall and winter, after his return from New Orleans, sold the young man a pack of "notions" to peddle along the road to Illinois. "A set of knives and forks," related Mr. Jones' son afterward, "was the largest item on the bill. The other items were needles, pins, thread, buttons, and other little domestic necessities. When the Lincolns reached their new home, Abraham wrote back to my father stating that he had doubled his money on his purchases by selling them along the road. Unfortunately we did not keep that letter, not thinking how highly we would prize it afterward."
In the early days of his presidency, an internationalproblem came before the cabinet which reminded Mr. Lincoln of an experience he had on this journey, so he told the several secretaries this story:
"The situation just now reminds me of a fix I got into some thirty years ago when I was peddling 'notions' on the way from Indiana to Illinois. I didn't have a large stock, but I charged large prices and I made money. Perhaps you don't see what I am driving at.
"Just before we left Indiana and were crossing into Illinois we came across a small farmhouse full of children. These ranged in age from seventeen years to seventeen months, and were all in tears. The mother of the family was red-headed and red-faced, and the whip she held in her right hand led to the inference that she had been chastising her brood. The father of the family, a meek-looking, mild-mannered, tow-headed chap, was standing at the front door—to all appearances waiting his turn!
"I thought there wasn't much use in asking the head of that house if she wanted any 'notions.' She was too busy. It was evident that an insurrection had been in progress, but it was pretty well quelled when I got there. She sawme when I came up, and from her look I thought she surmised that I intended to interfere. Advancing to the doorway—roughly pushing her husband aside—she demanded my business.
"'Nothing, ma'am,' I answered as gently as possible. 'I merely dropped in, as I came along, to see how things were going.'
"'Well, you needn't wait,' she said in an irritated way; 'there's trouble here, and lots of it, too, but I kin manage my own affairs without the help of outsiders. This is jest a family row, but I'll teach these brats their places if I hev to lick the hide off every one of them. I don't do much talking, but I run this house, an' I don't want no one sneakin' round tryin' to find out how I do it either.'
"That's the case here with us. We must let the other nations know that we propose to settle our family row in our own way, an' teach these brats (the seceding States) their places, and, like the old woman, we don't want any 'sneakin' round' by other countries, that would like to find out how we are going to do it either."
"WINNING A DOG'S GRATITUDE"
Abe strode along in the mud, driving the fouroxen much of the time, for the houses he could visit with his peddler's pack were few and far between. A dog belonging to one of the family—an insignificant little cur—fell behind. After the oxen had floundered through the mud, snow and ice of a prairie stream, they discovered that the animal was missing. The other men of the party thought they could now get rid of the little nuisance, and even the women were anxious, as the hour was late, to go on and find a place to camp for the night. To turn back with the clumsy ox-team and lumbering emigrant wagon was out of the question.
Abraham gave the whip to one of the other men and turned back to see if he could discern the dog anywhere. He discovered it running up and down on the other bank of the river, in great distress, for the swift current was filled with floating ice and the poor little creature was afraid to make the attempt to swim across. After whistling in vain to encourage the dog to try if it would, the tender-hearted youth went to its rescue. Referring to the incident himself afterward, he said:
"I could not endure the idea of abandoning even a dog. Pulling off shoes and socks, I wadedacross the stream and triumphantly returned with the shivering animal under my arm. His frantic leaps of joy and other evidences of a dog's gratitude amply repaid me for all the exposure I had undergone."
SPLITTING THE HISTORIC RAILS
After two weary weeks of floundering through muddy prairies and jolting over rough forest roads, now and then fording swollen and dangerous streams, the Lincolns were met near Decatur, Illinois, by Cousin John Hanks, and given a hearty welcome. John had chosen a spot not far from his own home, and had the logs all ready to build a cabin for the newcomers. Besides young Abe, with the strength of three, there were five men in the party, so they were able to erect their first home in Illinois without asking the help of the neighbors, as was customary for a "raising" of that kind.
Nicolay and Hay, President Lincoln's private secretaries, in their great life of their chief, gave the following account of the splitting of the rails which afterward became the talk of the civilized world:
"Without the assistance of John Hanks heplowed fifteen acres, and split, from the tall walnut trees of the primeval forest, enough rails to surround them with a fence. Little did either dream, while engaged in this work, that the day would come when the appearance of John Hanks in a public meeting with two of these rails on his shoulder, would electrify a State convention, and kindle throughout the country a contagious and passionate enthusiasm whose results would reach to endless generations."
HIS FATHER AND HIS "FREEDOM SUIT"
According to his own account, Abe had made about thirty dollars as a peddler, besides bearing the brunt of the labor of the journey, though there were four grown men in the combined family. As he had passed his twenty-first birthday on the road, he really had the right to claim these profits as his own. His father, who had, for ten years, exacted Abraham's meager, hard-earnedwages, should at least have given the boy a part of that thirty dollars for a "freedom suit" of clothes, as was the custom then.
But neither Thomas Lincoln nor his son seems to have thought of such a thing. Instead of entertaining resentment, Abraham stayed by, doing all he could to make his father and stepmother comfortable before he left them altogether. Mrs. Lincoln had two daughters and sons-in-law, besides John Johnston, so Abe might easily have excused himself from looking after the welfare of his parents. Though his father had seemed to favor his stepchildren in preference to his own son, Mrs. Lincoln had been "like an own mother to him," and he never ceased to show his gratitude by being "like an own son to her."
The first work Abe did in that neighborhood was to split a thousand rails for a pair of trousers, at the rate of four hundred rails per yard of "brown jeans dyed with walnut bark." The young man's breeches cost him about four hundred rails more than they would if he had been a man of ordinary height.
But Abraham hovered about, helping clear a little farm, and making the cabin comfortablewhile he was earning his own "freedom suit." He saw the spring planting done and that a garden was made for his stepmother before he went out of ready reach of the old people.
One special reason Thomas Lincoln had for leaving Indiana was to get away from "the milksick." But the fall of 1830 was a very bad season in Illinois for chills and fever. The father and, in fact, nearly the whole family left at home suffered so much from malaria that they were thoroughly discouraged. The interior of their little cabin was a sorry sight—Thomas and his wife were both afflicted at once, and one married daughter was almost as ill. They were all so sick that Thomas Lincoln registered a shaky but vehement resolve that as soon as they could travel they would "git out o' thar!" He had been so determined to move to Illinois that no persuasion could induce him to give up the project, therefore his disappointment was the more keen and bitter.
The first winter the Lincolns spent in Illinois was memorable for its severity. It is still spoken of in that region as "the winter of the big snow." Cattle and sheep froze to death or died of exposure and starvation.
BUILDING THE FLATBOAT
Early in the spring after "the big snow," John Hanks, Lincoln and John Johnston met Denton Offutt, a man who was to wield an influence on the life of young Lincoln. Offutt engaged the three to take a load of produce and other merchandise to New Orleans to sell. John Hanks, the most reliable member of the Hanks family, gave the following account of the way he managed to bring Abe and his stepbrother into the transaction: "He wanted me to go badly but I waited before answering. I hunted up Abe, and I introduced him and John Johnston, his stepbrother, to Offutt. After some talk we at last made an engagement with Offutt at fifty cents a day and sixty dollars to make the trip to New Orleans. Abe and I came down the Sangamon River in a canoe in March, 1831, and landed at what is now called Jamestown, five miles east of Springfield."
Denton Offutt spent so much time drinking in a tavern at the village of Springfield that the flatboat was not ready when the trio arrived to take it and its cargo down the river. Their employer met them on their arrival with profuse apologies, and the three men were engaged tobuild the boat and load it up for the journey.
During the four weeks required to build the raft, the men of that neighborhood became acquainted with young Lincoln. A man named John Roll has given this description of Abe's appearance at that time:
"He was a tall, gaunt young man, dressed in a suit of blue homespun, consisting of a roundabout jacket, waistcoat, and breeches which came to within about three inches of his feet. The latter were encased in rawhide boots, into the tops of which, most of the time, his pantaloons were stuffed. He wore a soft felt hat which had once been black, but now, as its owner dryly remarked, 'was sunburned until it was a combine of colors.'"
There was a sawmill in Sangamontown, and it was the custom for the "men folks" of the neighborhood to assemble near it at noon and in the evening, and sit on a peeled log which had been rolled out for the purpose. Young Lincoln soon joined this group and at once became a great favorite because of his stories and jokes. His stories were so funny that "whenever he'd end 'em up in his unexpected way the boys on the log would whoop and roll off." In this waythe log was polished smooth as glass, and came to be known in the neighborhood as "Abe's log."
A traveling juggler came one day while the boat was building and gave an exhibition in the house of one of the neighbors. This magician asked for Abe's hat to cook eggs in. Lincoln hesitated, but gave this explanation for his delay: "It was out of respect for the eggs—not care for my hat!"
ABE LINCOLN SAVES THREE LIVES
While they were at work on the flatboat the humorous young stranger from Indiana became the hero of a thrilling adventure, described as follows by John Roll, who was an eye witness to the whole scene:
"It was the spring following 'the winter of the deep snow.' Walter Carman, John Seamon, myself, and at times others of the Carman boys, had helped Abe in building the boat, and when we had finished we went to work to make a dug-out, or canoe, to be used as a small boat with the flat. We found a suitable log about an eighth of a mile up the river, and with our axes went to work under Lincoln's direction. The river wasvery high, fairly 'booming.' After the dug-out was ready to launch we took it to the edge of the water, and made ready to 'let her go,' when Walter Carman and John Seamon jumped in as the boat struck the water, each one anxious to be the first to get a ride. As they shot out from the shore they found they were unable to make any headway against the strong current. Carman had the paddle, and Seamon was in the stern of the boat. Lincoln shouted to them to head up-stream and 'work back to shore,' but they found themselves powerless against the stream. At last they began to pull for the wreck of an old flatboat, the first ever built on the Sangamon, which had sunk and gone to pieces, leaving one of the stanchions sticking above the water. Just as they reached it Seamon made a grab, and caught hold of the stanchion, when the canoe capsized, leaving Seamon clinging to the old timber and throwing Carman into the stream. It carried him down with the speed of a mill-race. Lincoln raised his voice above the roar of the flood, and yelled to Carman to swim for an elm tree which stood almost in the channel, which the action of the water had changed.
"Carman, being a good swimmer, succeededin catching a branch, and pulled himself up out of the water, which was very cold, and had almost chilled him to death; and there he sat, shivering and chattering in the tree.
"Lincoln, seeing Carman safe, called out to Seamon to let go the stanchion and swim for the tree. With some hesitation he obeyed, and struck out, while Lincoln cheered and directed him from the bank. As Seamon neared the tree he made one grab for a branch, and, missing it, went under the water. Another desperate lunge was successful, and he climbed up beside Carman.
"Things were pretty exciting now, for there were two men in the tree, and the boat gone. It was a cold, raw April day, and there was great danger of the men becoming benumbed and falling back into the water. Lincoln called out to them to keep their spirits up and he would save them.
"The village had been alarmed by this time, and many people had come down to the bank. Lincoln procured a rope and tied it to a log. He called all hands to come and help roll the log into the water, and, after this had been done, he, with the assistance of several others, towed it somedistance up the stream. A daring young fellow by the name of 'Jim' Dorell then took his seat on the end of the log, and it was pushed out into the current, with the expectation that it would be carried down stream against the tree where Seamon and Carman were.
"The log was well directed, and went straight to the tree; but Jim, in his impatience to help his friends, fell a victim to his good intentions. Making a frantic grab at a branch, he raised himself off the log, which was swept from under him by the raging waters and he soon joined the other victims upon their forlorn perch.
"The excitement on the shore increased, and almost the whole population of the village gathered on the river bank. Lincoln had the log pulled up the stream, and, securing another piece of rope, called to the men in the tree to catch it if they could when he should reach the tree. He then straddled the log himself, and gave the word to push out into the stream. When he dashed into the tree he threw the rope over the stump of a broken limb, and let it play until he broke the speed of the log, and gradually drew it back to the tree, holding it there until the three now nearly frozen men hadclimbed down and seated themselves astride. He then gave orders to the people on shore to hold fast to the end of the rope which was tied to the log, and leaving his rope in the tree he turned the log adrift. The force of the current, acting against the taut rope, swung the log around against the bank and all 'on board' were saved.
"The excited people who had watched the dangerous expedition with alternate hope and fear, now broke into cheers for Abe Lincoln, and praises for his brave act. This adventure made quite a hero of him along the Sangamon, and the people never tired of telling of the exploit."
"DOWN THE RIVER"
The launching of that flatboat was made a feast-day in the neighborhood. Denton Offutt, its proprietor, was invited to break away from the "Buckhorn" tavern at Springfield to witness the ceremonies, which, of course, took a political turn. There was much speech-making, but Andrew Jackson and the Whig leaders were equally praised.
The boat had been loaded with pork in barrels, corn, and hogs, and it slid into the SangamonRiver, then overflowing with the spring "fresh," with a big splash.
The three sturdy navigators, accompanied by Offutt himself, floated away in triumph from the waving crowd on the bank.
The first incident in the voyage occurred the 19th of April, at Rutledge's mill dam at New Salem, where the boat stranded and "hung" there a day and a night.
HOW ABE GOT THE FLATBOAT OVER THE DAM
New Salem was destined to fill an important place in the life of Abraham Lincoln. One who became well acquainted with him described him as the New Salemites first saw him, "wading round on Rutledge's dam with his trousers rolled up nine feet, more or less."
One of the crew gave this account of their mode of operations to get the stranded raft over the dam:
"We unloaded the boat—that is, we transferred the goods from our boat to a borrowed one. We then rolled the barrels forward; Lincoln bored a hole in the end (projecting) over the dam; the water which had leaked in ran out then and we slid over."
Offutt's enthusiasm over Abe's simple method of surmounting this great obstacle was boundless. A crowd had gathered on a hillside to watch Lincoln's operations.
AN IMPROBABLE PROPHECY
For the novelty of the thing, John Hanks claimed to have taken young Lincoln to a "voodoo" negress. She is said to have become excited in reading the future of the tall, thin young man, saying to him, "You will be President, and all the negroes will be free." This story probably originated long afterward, when the strange prophecy had already come true—though fortune tellers often inform young men who come to them that they will be Presidents some day. That such a woman could read the Emancipation Proclamation in that young man's future is not at all likely.
Another story is told of Abraham Lincoln's second visit to New Orleans that is more probable, but even this is not certain to have happened exactly as related. The young northerner doubtless saw negroes in chains, and his spirit, like that of his father and mother, rebelled against this inhumanity. There is little doubtthat in such sights, as one of his companions related, "Slavery ran the iron into him then and there."
"I'LL HIT IT HARD!"
But the story goes that the three young fellows—Hanks, Johnston and Lincoln—went wandering about the city, and passed a slave market, where a comely young mulatto girl was offered to the highest bidder. They saw prospective purchasers examine the weeping girl's teeth, pinch her flesh and pull her about as they would a cow or a horse. The whole scene was so revolting that Lincoln recoiled from it with horror and hatred, saying to his two companions, "Boys, let's get away from this. If ever I get a chance to hit that thing"—meaning slavery—"I'll hit it hard!"
In June the four men took passage up the river on a steamboat for the return trip. At St. Louis, Offutt got off to purchase stock for a store he proposed to open in New Salem, where he planned to place young Lincoln in charge.
WRESTLING WITH THE COUNTY CHAMPION
The other three started on foot to reach their several homes in Illinois. Abe improved the opportunity to visit his father's family in ColesCounty, where Thomas Lincoln had removed as soon as he was able to leave their first Illinois home near Decatur.
Abe's reputation as a wrestler had preceded him and the Coles County Champion, Daniel Needham, came and challenged the tall visitor to a friendly contest. Young Lincoln laughingly accepted and threw Needham twice. The crestfallen wrestler's pride was deeply hurt, and he found it hard to give up beaten.
"Lincoln," said he, "you have thrown me twice, but you can't whip me."
Abe laughed again and replied:
"Needham, are you satisfied that I can throw you? If you are not, and must be convinced through a thrashing, I will do that, too—for your sake!"
HE COULD "MAKE A FEW RABBIT TRACKS"
It was in August, 1831, that Abraham Lincoln appeared in the village of New Salem, Illinois.Neither Denton Offutt nor his merchandise had arrived as promised. While paying the penalty of the punctual man—by waiting for the tardy one—he seemed to the villagers to be loafing. But Abraham Lincoln was no loafer. He always found something useful and helpful to do. This time there was a local election, and one of the clerks had not appeared to perform his duties. A New Salem woman wrote of Lincoln's first act in the village:
"My father, Mentor Graham, was on that day, as usual, appointed to be a clerk, and Mr. McNamee, who was to be the other, was sick and failed to come. They were looking around for a man to fill his place when my father noticed Mr. Lincoln and asked if he could write. He answered that he could 'make a few rabbit tracks.'"
PILOTING A FAMILY FLATBOAT
A few days after the election the young stranger, who had become known by this time as the hero of the flatboat on Rutledge's dam four months before, found employment as a pilot. A citizen, Dr. Nelson, was about to emigrate to Texas. The easiest and best mode oftravel in those days was by flatboat down the river. He had loaded all his household goods and movable property on his "private conveyance" and was looking about for a "driver." Young Lincoln, still waiting, unemployed, offered his services and took the Nelson family down the Sangamon River—a more difficult task in August than in April, when the water was high on account of the spring rains. But the young pilot proceeded cautiously down the shallow stream, and reached Beardstown, on the Illinois River, where he was "discharged" and walked back over the hills to New Salem.
ANNOYED BY THE HIGH PRAISES OF HIS EMPLOYER
Denton Offutt and his stock for the store arrived at last, and Lincoln soon had a little store opened for business. A country store seemed too small for a clerk of such astounding abilities, so the too enthusiastic employer bought Cameron's mill with the dam on which Lincoln had already distinguished himself, and made the clerk manager of the whole business.
This was not enough. Offutt sounded the praises of the new clerk to all comers. He claimed that Abraham Lincoln "knew more thanany man in the United States." As Mr. Offutt had never shown that he knew enough himself to prove this statement, the neighbors began to resent such rash claims. In addition, Offutt boasted that Abe could "beat the county" running, jumping and wrestling. Here was something the new clerk could prove, if true, so his employer's statement was promptly challenged.
When a strange man came to the village to live, even though no one boasted of his prowess, he was likely to suffer at the hands of the rougher element of the place. It was a sort of rude initiation into their society. These ceremonies were conducted with a savage sense of humor by a gang of rowdies known as the "Clary's Grove Boys," of whom the "best fighter" was Jack Armstrong.
Sometimes "the Boys" nailed up a stranger in a hogshead and it was rolled down hill. Sometimes he was ingeniously insulted, or made to fight in self-defense, and beaten black and blue by the whole gang. They seemed not to be hampered by delicate notions of fair play in their actions toward a stranger. They "picked on him," as chickens, dogs and wolves do upon a newcomer among them.
So when young Lincoln heard his employer bragging about his brain and brawn he was sufficiently acquainted with backwoods nature to know that it boded no good to him. Even then "he knew how to bide his time," and turned it to good account, for he had a good chance, shortly to show the metal that was in him.
"The Boys" called and began to banter with the long-legged clerk in the new store. This led to a challenge and comparison of strength and prowess between young Lincoln and Jack Armstrong. Abe accepted the gauntlet with an alacrity that pleased the crowd, especially the chief of the bully "Boys," who expected an easy victory. But Jack was surprised to find that the stranger was his match—yes, more than his match. Others of "the Boys" saw this, also, and began to interfere by tripping Abe and trying to help their champion by unfair means.
This made young Lincoln angry. Putting forth all his strength, he seized Armstrong by the throat and "nearly choked the exuberant life out of him." When "the Boys" saw the stranger shaking their "best fighter" as if he were a mere child, their enmity gave place to admiration; and when Abe had thrown JackArmstrong upon the ground, in his wrath, as a lion would throw a dog that had been set upon him, and while the strong stranger stood there, with his back to the wall, challenging the whole gang, with deep-set eyes blazing with indignation, they acknowledged him as their conqueror, and declared that "Abe Lincoln is the cleverest fellow that ever broke into the settlement."
The initiation was over, and young Lincoln's triumph complete. From that day "the Clary's Grove Boys" were his staunch supporters and defenders, and his employer was allowed to go on bragging about his wonderful clerk without hindrance.