LINCOLN THE SANGAMON LOUIS OBED RENNE $2.50 LINCOLN and the Land of the Sangamon By LOUIS OBED RENNE A biography written with under- standing and sincerity revealing the author's close intimacy with the Lincoln country where the great "Emancipator" lived and labored during thirty years of his career. Mr. Renne's personal recol- lections of William Henry Herndon, Lincoln's last law partner, and the ob- servations of his relatives who lived along the Lincoln trail where he was born and reared, prompted him to write this brief biographical chronology, including a rem- iniscent sketch of the Sangamon Valley countryside. The author's motive in adding another book on this well-loved subject to the many volumes already listed was that he mi^ht supply what he believes to be a lack of important items relative to the man and the environment. Eight illustrations. CHAPMAN & GRIMES, INC. LINCOLN ROOM UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY MEMORIAL the Class of 1901 founded by HARLAN HOYT HORNER and HENRIETTA CALHOUN HORNER Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/lincolnlandofsanOOrenn LINCOLN AND THE LAND OF THE SANGAMON The Lincoln Picture That Hung IN THE HERNDON Law OFFICE Lincoln and the Land of the Sangamon By LOUIS OBED RENNE Author of "The Old Mill" and Other Sketches BOSTON CHAPMAN & GRIMES Publishers Copyright, 1945, by CHAPMAN & GRIMES, INC PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER With love amd gratitvhe ACKNOWLEDGMENT In grateful recognition of the encouragement and con- structive criticism of the following who are alphabetically named : Paul M. Angle, Librarian, Illinois State Historical Library, Springfield, Illinois; Walter G. Beach, Emeritus Professor of Social Science, Stanford University, California ; Herbert Wells Fay, Custodian, Lincoln Monument and Tomb, Springfield, Illinois; Harry E. Pratt, Executive Secretary, The Abraham Lincoln Association, Springfield, Illinois; Edgar E. Robinson, Head of the Department of History, Stanford University, California; Alfred Small- heiser, Educator, Department of History, Boys' High School, New York City; and of the inspiring loved ones who lived along the old Sangamon Valley Trail where echo the footsteps of Lincoln. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS The Lincoln Picture That Hung in the Herndon Law Office frontispiece The Old Well on the Herndon Farm . . . opp. page 24 "Lincoln Inn" 30 Sangamon River from Irving' s Bridge 38 Taken on the Squire Joseph VanNattan Farmstead on the Lincoln Trail 48 The Herndon Home 70 The Power-Reilly Farmstead 84 The Old Chinquapin Bridge That Spanned the Sangamon 114 PREFACE Some future, patient, persevering student of Lincoln may discover obscure facts in isolated places, and write a more excellent and comprehensive narrative than has been writ- ten, — perhaps a day-by-day account of this true brother to the lowly. Doubtless no two persons agree entirely on what is most significant in revealing the character and ethics of Abraham Lincoln, though every observation of his life contributes to our knowledge of the man. Mythical, legendary, and verified anecdotes have been interwoven from Hardin County to Sangamon; nevertheless, his Civil War years have been well authenticated and recorded by diligent biographers and distinguished historians. Observations of my relatives who lived along the Lincoln trail, where I was born and reared, and personal recollec- tions of William Henry Herndon, prompted me to write a brief biographical chronology including a sketch of the Sangamon Valley countryside, where Lincoln lived and labored during thirty years of his career, in the hope that it may be helpful to students and the general public. Perhaps we all tend to deify some favorite among the sons of men ; we may be carried to the realm of veneration in contemplating the life and deeds of mortals who stood in the vanguard of their time. In our fancy we create a sanctuary, and pay homage to our ideal. If this short volume over-estimates Lincoln's honor and contribution to humanity, it is because, in delving into the voluminous writings that relate to his life, I failed to find substantiated evidence of any act wilfully unwholesome to sully his name. 7] Abraham Lincoln was a lowly mortal made great through integrity. His dauntless constancy and deliberate judg- ment, his regard for the common man, and veneration of God, his devotion to duty, and the achievement of his life work make him eternally near the hearts of men the world around. L. 0. R. [8 LINCOLN AND THE LAND OF THE SANGAMON A blend of mirth and sadness, smiles and tears, A quaint knight-errant of the pioneers: A homely hero born of star and sod; A peasant prince; a masterpiece of God. — Walter Malone. Men are worthy of the name only by virtue of having risen above the lower forms of life in their conduct. A man becomes great only in the degree that he holds under subjection his personal, inordinate desires through con- sideration of his fellow men. A genius may rise above his fellows in accomplishment ; his ingenuity may revolutionize the order of things. A shrewd man may fill his coffers with gold. But if these men of mental endowment make no contribution to the spiritual and social welfare of struggling humanity "their works are nothing; their molten images are wind and confusion." From Creation, security has been the quest of the sons of Adam. We see them down through the ages contending among themselves and with the forces of nature, vying for supremacy; now guided by the stern, judicious leader- ship of Moses ; now led in ruthless conquest by a Thothmes or a Napoleon; now swayed by an eloquent Demosthenes or a Webster. The broad panorama of history reflects the ceaseless struggle of conflicting interests, and the subordi- nation of brotherhood. Throughout the centuries pred- atory man has sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind. We see relentless hordes sweeping over the earth establish- ing mighty dynasties and empires which rise and fall in the course of time. We see liberty-loving people of the 11] "old world" seeking freedom and security in the "new continent" where they build a nation, and consecrate it in the name of liberty and equality. In this "Land of the Free" factories and prisons are built; churches and schools, distilleries, breweries, and other agencies established with their counteractive influ- ences; enslavement of the Negro is legalized; religious bigotry prevails ; railways invade new territory from which the native red man is driven, his just inheritance of forests, fields, lakes, and streams confiscated after a tragic, unequal contest which leaves an ineffaceable blot on the record of. the invading Caucasian. Thus the subjugators of a race unleashed the spirit of aggression, and extended the founda- tion of their social and economic order on the hunting grounds of the vanquished, and denied to defenseless men the "inalienable rights" which were fundamental in the Constitution. In this dark and turbulent age a tumult arose from the land which threatened the life of the republic ; it pervaded the prairies and resounded over the distant mountains; it penetrated the deep, dark forests, and reached from sea to sea; it ascended to heaven! It was a cry of mingled coercion and distress, of contentious rancor. The far-reaching cry was heard by an offspring of the remote, wild woods of Kentucky. He emerged from the hills, and his proclamation reverberated throughout the land, "that nation conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that 'all men are created equal' shall have a new birth of freedom." [12 Abraham Lincoln, 1809-1865, sixteenth president of the United States of America, was born in a small log cabin in the backwoods of Kentucky. Lincoln's concise autobiography, as written in a letter of 1859, to his friend, the Honorable Jesse W. Fell, of Bloomington, Illinois, is pre-eminent among the stories of his life. Mr. Fell, a prominent, influential citizen, Secretary of the Republican Central Committee, seems to have been one of the first to advocate Lincoln for President, and requested his record. Lincoln wrote: I was born, February 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky. My parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished families — second families, perhaps I should say. My mother, who died in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks, some of whom now reside in Adams and others in Macon County, Illinois. My paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from Rocking- ham County, Virginia, to Kentucky, about 1781 or ... 2, where, a year or two later, he was killed by Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, when he was laboring to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, who were Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks County, Pennsylvania. An effort to identify them with the New England family of the same name ended in nothing more definite than a similarity of Christian names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, Abraham, and the like. My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of age; and he grew up literally without education. He removed from Kentucky to what is now Spencer County, Indiana, in my eighth year. We reached our new home about the time the State came into the Union (1816). It was a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals still in the woods. There I grew up. There were some schools, so called; but no qualification was ever required of a teacher beyond "readin'," '*writin'," and "cipherin'" to the Rule of Three. If 13] a straggler, supposed to understand Latin, happened to sojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizard. There was absolutely nothing to excite ambition for education. Of course, when I came of age I did not know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write and cipher to the Rule of Three; but that was all — I have not been to school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of education, I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of necessity. I was raised to farm-work, which I continued until I was twenty- two. At twenty-one I came to Illinois and passed the first year in Macon County, Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sanga- mon, now in Menard County, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in a store. Then came the Black Hawk War, and I was elected captain of volunteers — a success which gave me more pleasure than any I have had since. I went the campaign, was elated, ran for the Legislature the same year (1832), and was beaten — the only time I have been beaten by the people. The next, and three succeeding biennial elections, I was elected to the Legislature. I was not a candidate afterwards. During the Legislature period I had studied law, and removed to Springfield to practice it. In 1846 I was once elected to the lower House of Congress — was not a candidate for re- election. From 1849 to 1854, both inclusive, practiced law more assiduously than ever before. Always a Whig in politics, and gen- erally on the Whig electoral ticket, making active canvasses. I was losing interest in politics, when the repeal of the Missouri Com- promise aroused me again. What I have done since then is pretty well known. If any personal description of me is thought desirable, it may be said, I am, in height, six feet, four inches, nearly; lean in flesh, weigh- ing on the average, one hundred and eighty pounds; dark com- plexion, with coarse black hair, and gray eyes. No other marks or brands recollected. Yours very truly, A. LINCOLN. Hon. J. W. Fell. In 1860, to an inquiry of J. L. Scripps, of the Chicago Tribune, regarding his past, Lincoln replied in his campaign biography : "It is a great piece of folly to attempt to make anything out of my early life. It can all be condensed in a single sentence and that sentence you will find in Gray's [14 Elegy, The short and simple annals of the poor'." He said, "The present subject has no brother or sister of the whole or half blood. He had a sister older than himself, who was grown and married but died many years ago, leaving no child ; also a brother younger than himself who died in infancy." Regarding his old home in Kentucky, Lincoln is re- ported to have said : Our farm was composed of three fields. It lay in the valley (of Knob Creek) surrounded by hills and deep gorges. Sometimes when there came a big rain in the hills the water would come down through the gorges and spread all over the farm. The last thing I remember doing there was one Saturday afternoon; the boys planted corn in what we called the big field; it contained seven acres — and I dropped the pumpkin seed. I dropped two seeds every other hill and every other row. The next Sunday morning there came a big rain in the hills, it did not rain a drop in the valley, but the water coming down through the gorges washed ground, corn, pumpkin seeds and all clear off the field." As candidate for the Legislature, in 1832, Lincoln dis- claims any prestige of the past in stating: "I was born, and have ever remained in the most humble walks of life." Although the analysis of time decrees that no individual can stand on the illustrious deeds of his ancestors, neither can he be held down by their transgressions. Abraham Lincoln was a descendant of a notable family notwithstanding the menacing interrogation with which biographers have turned to Lucy Hanks, mother of Nancy, for the missing link in the emancipator's maternal descent. Judicious and humane is the advice of Dr. William E. Barton: "Let him who has done more for posterity than Lucy Hanks 'cast the first stone'." Lincoln is quoted as saying, "I don't know who my grandfather was, but I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be." Surely, the adverse criticism of Thomas Lincoln is not 15] well founded. After considering the record of my great- grandfather and grandfather VanNattan, both of whom were born in Kentucky, 1 I am convinced that higher quality than that of "indolence" was required to live through the pioneer days in those newly explored sections of Kentucky and in other States of the old West. The libel by some biographers of the President's father as "shiftless" and "indolent" has no logical support, it seems to me. Those early settlers were seeking "The Land of Promise"; theirs was a great adventure; they were analysts; they tested the factors in the wilderness which contribute to productivity and the maintenance of life, Lincoln said, regarding his father's Kentucky migration: "The removal was partly on account of slavery, but chiefly on account of difficulty in land-titles in Kentucky." They moved, some of them, several times, not because of "indo- lence" or "shiftlessness," but to secure for their families and themselves better living conditions. It is to those tenacious explorers that the subsequent hordes of human- kind, moving westward, owe a debt of gratitude for the data established through hardship. Notwithstanding Lincoln's self-effacing modesty, patient genealogists, with documentary support, have traced his noteworthy ancestry to England. Scions of the House i My great-grandfather, Daniel VanNattan, was born March 3, 1800, in Fleming County, and my grandfather, Joseph VanNattan, Corporal in the "Preacher's Regiment," was born in Fleming County also, March 10, 1821. Great-grandfather Daniel VanNattan moved from Kentucky with his family into Sangamon County, Illinois, in 1825 where he established a home about nine miles northwest of Springfield. Grandfather, James Sullivan Renne, a veteran scout of the Black Hawk War, and later commissioned to build the "first fort" west of the Mississippi, was a pioneer in Sangamon County, Illinois; his home was adjacent northwest of Springfield across the road west of Camp Lincoln. Recruits from both the VanNattan and Renne families answered Lincoln's call for volunteers. (I take no pride in this fact.) — L. O. R. [16 of Lincoln have contributed much to the stability of the American Commonwealth; we see them rendering notable service in various branches of government; we hear the din of those constructive, vigorous pioneers in their struggle with the primitive woods and plains as they till the virgin sod and hew out their homes in the forest, thus paving the way for our modern, multifarious civilization. Abraham Lincoln, the unassuming "Man of the People/' claimed no trophies or laurels from his progenitors to win the acclamation of his countrymen but offered himself from "the most humble walks of life," to serve his country in a time of great tribulation. And the service he rendered humanity manifests the quality of the man, though the question of his vindication in resorting to war to achieve his worthy purpose will haunt the minds of conscientious men to the last generation. 17] Captain Abraham Lincoln, grandfather of the martyred President, had migrated from Virginia into Kentucky in the year 1782 when Thomas was four years old. The pioneer Abraham was killed by an Indian in the spring of 1786. He left a widow, three sons, two daughters, and "1200 acres of land." Thomas Lincoln, father of the President, was a landowner in Kentucky, and moved several times to improve the condition of his family. From Ken- tucky he moved to Indiana, and thence to Illinois where he died near Janesville, January 17, 1851. Travel was by covered wagon, horseback, and train. Nancy Hanks Lincoln, mother of the President, died in southwestern Indiana, October 5, 1818. She was a victim of the milk-sickness epidemic which took a heavy toll from the countryside. Her burial place has become a State park, and thus it is preserved from obliteration by an unmindful transient populace. Mrs. Sarah Bush Johnston Lincoln proved to be a capable, worthy stepmother to young Abraham, and com- pensated to a marked degree for the loss of his noble mother. Apparently he was a typical, vigorous boy, though taller than his companions. Abraham was ten years of age when his father re- married, and, doubtless, he and his twelve-year-old sister, Sarah, enjoyed the three playmates that were brought to the crude home by this union. There were Matilda, Sarah, and John Johnston. And there was Dennis Friend Hanks, [18 cousin of his mother and ten years older than Abraham, who lived with the family for some time. Mingled with work and play and thrilling experiences with the wild life of the primeval forest was the dearth of necessities. Those were "pretty pinching times," he said. We hear of Lincoln's rescue from drowning in his child- hood, but naturally this experience did not prevent him from plunging many times into Rolling Fork, Knob Creek, and Nolin Creek, Kentucky, and into Little Pigeon Creek and Anderson Creek, Indiana. And there was the irresis- tible Sangamon River at New Salem, Illinois, with its alluring coolness after a day of toil in the sultry season. His muscles were hardened by general farm work. He wielded the axe in Indiana and Illinois, and became famous as a "rail-splitter." His prescribed schooling was of short duration: five brief terms in Kentucky and Indiana: "about four months in all." He was eager for knowledge, and it was his habit in childhood, in inclement weather, to lie on his back by the glowing wood fire in the hearth, and read what books he could get. Stationery was a luxury in his boyhood home, and he would often write and cipher by candlelight on pieces of boards or a "shovel using char- coal for pencil." His stepmother said he did not read much after dark — went to bed early and rose early: "Abe read diligently ... He read history papers and books and when he came across a passage that struck him, he would write it down on boards if he had no slate or paper. Then he would rewrite it, look at it, repeat it. "He had a . . . kind of scrap book in which he put all things, and . . . preserved them." He used his first large fee as a lawyer to purchase, for his stepmother, a one-quarter section farm home in Coles County, Illinois. Her affectionate tribute to his respectful nature is recorded in her impressive words, "I can say . . 19] he was a good boy. Abe never gave me a cross word or look and never refused to ... do anything I requested of him." Of his mother he said: "My earliest recollection of my mother is sitting at her feet with my sister drinking in the tales and legends that were read and related to us . . . All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother." On her deathbed she said: "I am going away from you, Abraham, and I shall not return. I know you will be a good boy, that you will be kind to Sarah and your father. I want you to live as I have taught you and to love your heavenly Father." Herndon declared, "Lincoln read less and thought more than any man in public life in his generation." We are told that he read Bunyan's Pilgrim Progress, Aesop's Fables, Life of Henry Clay, Weems' Life of Washington, Ramsey's Life of Washington, Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Rollin's Ancient History, Franklin's Autobiography, Shakespeare, Burns, Byron, Blackstone, Paine's Age of Reason, histories of the United States, and the Bible. He said, "I will study, and when the time comes I'll be ready." Perhaps the forests, hills, and streams of his childhood were factors in the molding of the man, instilling within him a sense of God's plan; a long-range view of life; a vision of the finality of man's temporal existence. In the summer of 1831, the youthful rustic with his handful of material possessions arrived at New Salem, Sangamon County (now Menard), Illinois, on the westward bank of the Sangamon River. This was to be his home for six years. The village was an enterprise of the Reverend John Cameron and his uncle by marriage, James Rutledge. The tall, angular Lincoln was well equipped to launch on the [20 great experience of self-reliance for he was of the nobility of character; of the aristocracy of mentality; honest and resourceful. The young frontiersman made his home at different places in the village, boarding for a while at the Rutledge Tavern. A deep sadness came into Lincoln's life at New Salem, for Ann Rutledge, whom he loved, passed away at the dawn of her womanhood. The waters of the winding Sangamon as they flowed along the wooded banks called his soul to the spiritual abode of his beloved; the waters along which they had strolled together in the twilight under the oaks and sycamores; the stars above seemed conscious of his solitude. The following lines, "Ann Rutledge," by Edgar Lee Masters, are inscribed on the granite gravestone of the maid of New Salem near the reconstructed commemorative village : OUT OF ME, UNWORTHY AND UNKNOWN, THE VIBRATIONS OF DEATHLESS MUSIC: "WITH MALICE TOWARD NONE, WITH CHARITY FOR ALL," OUT OF ME, FORGIVENESS OF MILLIONS TOWARD MILLIONS, AND THE BENEFICENT FACE OF A NATION SHINING WITH JUSTICE AND TRUTH. I AM ANN RUTLEDGE WHO SLEEPS BENEATH THESE WEEDS, BELOVED OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN, WEDDED TO HIM, NOT THROUGH UNION BUT THROUGH SEPARATION. BLOOM FOREVER, O REPUBLIC FROM THE DUST OF MY BOSOM! January 7, 1813 August 25, 1835 Around her grave 1 nature is benign. Spring gives new life to the land beside the Sangamon: the scent of buds i Interred in Concord burial ground — bones exhumed by question- able interest, May 5, 1890, and moved to the Oakland Cemetery at Petersburg. Both sites are rather near New Salem in Menard County. — L. O. R. 21] fills the air, and, as summer approaches, from the wildwood come delightful symphonies of mating birds. In autumn the deciduous foliage is colored by the Master Hand with indescribable hues of Illinois Indian Summer, and the winter snows spread over trees and all about a pure enchantment. [22 It was with difficulty that the forlorn Lincoln applied himself to the duties at hand. In his hours of recreation, wrestling, rough-and-tumble combats with the "Clary Grove boys," who became his steadfast friends, were stimulants in his life while he debated and studied grammar, surveying, and law. The home of Jack Armstrong, leader of Clary's Grove gang, was hospitable toward Lincoln, and years after these set-to's he pleaded successfully before the court at Beardstown, May 7, 1858, where "Duff" Arm- strong, son of his former wrestling contestant, was freed of the charge of the murder of James Preston Metzker (August 29, 1857). This was the famous "almanac" or "moonlight" case. He seemed to think the navigation of the Sangamon was important to his success and to that of the community. While candidate for State legislator, March 9, 1832, he said, ... it is probable that for the last twelve months I have given as particular attention to the stage of the water in this river as any other person in the country. In the month of March, 1831, in com- pany with others, I conceived the building of a flat-boat on the Sangamon and I finished and took her out in the course of the Spring. Since that time, I have been concerned in the mill at New Salem . . . In the spring of 1832 he and Rowan Herndon, cousin of William Herndon, piloted the steamboat Talisman, on the return trip, from a point near Springfield to Beards- town. This was a test case promoted by Captain Vincent Bogue. The slow, toilsome cruise upstream and down proved the navigability of the winding river impracticable. 23] His second journey to New Orleans, beginning about the middle of April, 1831, on a freighter he helped build and float over the Rutledge mill-dam — the flat-boat trip pro- moted by Denton Offut shortly before Lincoln settled in New Salem — presented the greater opportunity for observ- ing the abuses of slavery which intensified his dislike for the institution. He had, previously, when nineteen, as a "hired man/' made the round trip to the gulf port from Indiana. In the meantime he earned his bread by various vocations. The Offut mercantile business with which Lincoln was connected was not progressing well and soon "winked out." About this time, in 1832, there was an Indian uprising in northern Illinois led by Black Hawk, a Sac leader of the Algonquins. Lincoln enlisted and was elected captain of volunteers. After the expiration of this enlistment he re- entered twice and served as a private and independent ranger. We understand he saw but little service in the clash, though his argument saved the life of a captured Indian scout who was condemned to be shot by Lincoln's comrades. His decision, as in the case of a convicted Civil War prisoner, was, "I do not believe that shooting a man does him any good." In course of three months the in- surrection was suppressed, and Lincoln returned to the quaint hamlet of New Salem. He had entered the race for the State Legislature shortly before the Black Hawk war, and continued in the competition upon returning. Although defeated, he re- ceived 277 out of the 300 votes cast at New Salem. Peter Cartwright, circuit riding Methodist preacher, was one of four worthy successful candidates. It was during this campaign that Lincoln made his first political speech, and here he strikes a note that forecasts the stature of a great, conscientious man. He said : "Every man is said to have [24 Photograph by Will 7 minor (1935) The Old Well On the Herndon Farm Uncle Norman VanNattan's old home in distant left background. Left to right: Henry Keefrner; Louis Obed Renne; his cousin, Mrs. Ethel Bancroft Keefrner. (The Lincoln Trail runs through this farm.) his peculiar ambition ... I have no other so great as that of being truly esteemed of my fellow-men, by rendering myself worthy of their esteem ..." This was a strenuous period for the ambitious youth in his struggle for existence, and his moods of despondency worried his friends of whom he had many because of his congenial personality, his frank countenance, and fair playing. He was postmaster at New Salem under President Jackson from May 7, 1833, till the discontinuance of the post, May 30, 1836, from the office of which (located in the Lincoln-Berry store and, later, that of Samuel Hill) he "carried the letters in his hat." He was deputy surveyor in 1833, the wages of which "procured bread, and kept body and soul together." And in this year the general merchandise business of Lincoln and the intemperate Berry failed. The store was sold to the unreliable Trent brothers who defaulted. (It has been said that William Berry drank too much, and that Lincoln read too much and told too many stories for the good of the trade.) Lincoln assumed respon- sibility for the indebtedness, and paid the final installment on the "national debt," as he phrased it, in 1848. There was a brief courtship in 1836 with Mary Owens of Kentucky who was visiting her sister, Mrs. Bennett Abell near New Salem, but neither Mary nor Abraham seems to have taken the affair very seriously, though Lincoln was serious enough to propose three times. He was no egotist. He said: "I could never be satisfied with anyone who would be blockhead enough to have me." He quoted the poem, "Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud !" Lincoln was at this time, 1834 to 1842 inclusive, a Whig member of the Illinois Legislature which convened in the old State Capitol at Vandalia until 1839 when Spring- field became the Capital city. He had been prominent at Vandalia as a member of the famous "Long Nine" Assem- 25] blymen, and had been instrumental in establishing the seat of State government at Springfield. In the spring of 1837, Lincoln moved to Springfield where the affairs of State went forward in the new State- house, after the session of 1839-40 which was held on the site of the Second Presbyterian Church — 217 South Fourth Street, before the completion of the sandstone structure which is now the Sangamon County Court House with added lower floor. The self-tutored, "mast-fed" law student had just been admitted to the bar, and his license to practice law launched him in his chosen profession. Springfield was his adopted home, and here we find him wending his way upward, in the words of Joseph Fort Newton, "making his way slowly, unhappy, rarely ill, being a man of regular habits; wiry and stalwart, beyond the best of western men." In 1839 twenty-year-old Mary Todd came to Springfield from Lexington, Kentucky, to live with her sister, Mrs. Ninian Wirt Edwards. The vivacious, impulsive Mary soon became popular in the social life of the new capital city. Her admirers were the most notable American states- men of the time, among whom Stephen A. Douglas was prominent. But the tall, gaunt Lincoln, the unconventional assemblyman, witty and forceful in debate, of "Presiden- tial Timber," won the heart of this buxom southern lass. The "scheduled wedding" was abruptly derailed on the "fatal first of January," 1841. * Lincoln's lack of social polish, and obscure lineage doubtless bore heavily upon him as he pondered the qualities of Mary Todd who was of a noteworthy Kentucky family. The contemplation of this "inequality" evidently engendered within him an emotional conflict which overpowered the man who had been master i Paul M. Angle, historian, stated: ''Records . . . show that no license was issued to Lincoln on or before January 1, 1841 ..." — L. O. R. [26 of many trying situations. Fortunately, a visit with his faithful old friend, Joshua F. Speed, in Louisville, Ken- tucky, was to the dispirited Lincoln "a balm in Gilead." He had told Mr. Speed he was "in two minds and a quan- dary" ; that he was "being pulled in opposite directions by two equally important impulses/ ' Mr. Speed was not disappointed in the destitute young lawyer with whom he had shared his bed in Springfield. About this time, in 1842, there appeared in the Spring- field Journal, the "Rebecca Letters," a series of anonymous travesties in which General Shields was the target. Shields became irritated at these offenses and suspected Lincoln. Upon being accused, Lincoln acknowledged the authorship, and was forthwith challenged to give an account in a duel. It seems the scathing pen of Mary Todd was implicated although Lincoln, evidently, was the chief offender, and took the responsibility by accepting the challenge. He seemed ashamed of the affair, and said he wrote the burlesque for political effect and had no ill will towards Shields. Through the intervention of friends of both men a duel was averted "on the grounds." Subsequently, Abraham Lincoln and Mary Todd were brought together again, and on November 4, 1842, in his thirty-third year (Mary was twenty-three) they were united "for better or worse." As Dr. William E. Barton expresses it: "These two people, who were so divinely created to irritate each other, were also constituted in such a fashion as to be necessary to each other's comfort and peace." To this union, four sons were born, of whom only Robert Todd, the eldest, lived to mature age. He was a distinguished American although overshadowed by his illustrious father. Robert Todd Lincoln was born in Springfield, Illinois, August 1, 1843. He was graduated at Harvard in 1864 ; was Captain in the Federal Army under 27] General Grant; at close of the Civil War he settled in Chicago, and practiced law until 1881 when he became Secretary of War in Garfield's Cabinet. He retained this position under Arthur's administration. He refused to oppose President Arthur in the convention when men- tioned as a Presidential candidate. From 1889 to 1893, inclusive, he was Minister of the United States to Great Britain. He was counsel for, and later became president of, the Pullman Palace Car Company. He resigned this office in 1911 and became chairman of the board of direc- tors. He died July 25, 1926, in Manchester, Vermont, at the age of eighty-three years, and, according to his wish he, with his son beside him, is interred in the Arlington National Cemetery — the body of his son Abraham (1873- 1890) having been removed from the tomb at the Lincoln Monument. His daughters, Mary and Jessie, were married and left descendants. Robert Todd Lincoln was the last descendant of his renowned father bearing the family name; his mother and three young brothers lie entombed in Lincoln's Monument, in Oak Ridge Cemetery, Sangamon County, Illinois. The names and dates of the three other sons of the President are: — Edward Baker, March 10, 1846— February 1, 1850; William Wallace, December 21, 1850— February 20, 1862; and Thomas ("Tad"), April 4, 1853— July 15, 1871. (In 1900 the United States Congress approved a Con- federate section in Arlington where "Glory guards with solemn round the bivouac of the dead." Peacefully, now, they lie side by side, suggestive of the comradeship prevail- ing among their surviving brothers.) [28 In 1846 Lincoln was elected to the lower house of Congress. Following this two-year term he "practiced law more assiduously/' and carried on until the duties of the Presidency called him to Washington. (He declined the governorship of the Oregon Territory in 1852, proffered by President Fillmore). The extent of Abraham Lincoln's knowledge of juris- prudence cannot be computed, but his career as an attorney at law is a credit to his talent and rectitude. His candid, penetrating expression, terse, confuting anecdotes, frank admission of weak points, and sincere appeal to the jury and magistrate were chief factors in his success. Morse said: "Lincoln was pre-eminently the honest lawyer, the counsel fitted to serve the litigant who was justly entitled to win." Henry C. Whitney said: "... Mr. Lincoln's pre-eminent greatness lay in the combination of the powers of analysis and synthesis." He was a bulwark against dishonesty in practice, and was stabilizing in admonition. Among his notes was the following advice to aspiring students : "Let no young man choosing the law for a calling for a moment yield to the popular belief (that lawyers are necessarily dishonest). Resolve to be honest at all events; and if, in your own judgment, you cannot be an honest lawyer, resolve to be honest without being a lawyer . . . Choose some other occupation rather than one in the choosing of which you do, in advance, consent to be a knave . . . Discourage litigation, persuade your neighbors to compromise when- ever you can. Point out to them how the nominal winner is often the real loser — in fees, expenses and waste of time. As a peace- maker the lawyer has a superior opportunity of becoming a good 29] man. There will always be enough business. Never stir up litigation. A worse man can scarcely be found than one who does this. Who can be more nearly a fiend than he who habitually over- hauls the register of deeds in search of defects in titles, whereupon to stir up strife and put money in his pocket? A moral tone ought to be infused into the profession which should drive such men out of it . . . Stand with anybody that stands right, and part with him when he goes wrong ... Be sure you put your feet in the right place and then stand firm. Shortly before a morning court session closed in which Lincoln was defending a client, he discovered some facts which convinced him that he could not conscientiously attest the validity of the case. When court resumed, Lincoln was absent. The judge sent a messenger to inquire the reason he did not appear. Lincoln sent back the following mes- sage: "Tell the court that I discovered my hands were dirty and I am going home to wash them." The country attorney was an early circuit rider in Cen- tral Illinois where fields and streams are glorified by border- ing woodlands, and where cattle in bluegrass meadows add charm to the landscape. Some of the old stage- coach road grade depressions in Sangamon and Menard Counties over which Lincoln traveled are still plainly visible. There is one of these grade depressions athwart the roadside near my great-grandfather VanNattan's old place, abutting Uncle "Ben" Bancroft's farmstead, nine miles northwest of Springfield. There is one running at an oblique angle through the sloping pasture land on the Will Trainor place a mile northwest of Chinquapin bridge. This land was formerly the William Henry Herndon farm. Herndon's old house, with addition, is now the home of Mr. Trainor and his wife who have owned the place for years. Will and his brother, George, inherited the farm from their father, who purchased it from Mrs. William H. Herndon. Mr. Trainor is the son of the late Leonard Trainor who was the foster son of William Henry Herndon of the Lincoln- [30 V > IB z ^ Ph '5 x _c -O 3 i/3 £d **-i 6 ** c 2^ p nJ bX) fl u TD 3 ►— 1 "T3 *"^ ^ rt ao — ; U c 3 (/3 4J ^a C £ 3 o ij _C ^ Herndon law firm. The old well on the place still gives forth its sparkling water as it is drawn up "dripping with coolness." Word has been passed on to the writer, and to other descendants of the settlers who lived along the old itinerary- circuit, that Lincoln frequently stopped at the farmsteads to drink from the old oaken bucket, and to water his horse at the log trough near by. He was affable, but most of his remarks along the wayside of that period have been lost in the oblivion of the past, for in those days he was only "honest Abe, the circuit lawyer," or "Lincoln, the Assembly- man." Not far from Grandfather VanNattan's old farm, on the George Power homestead, some ten miles northwest of Springfield, Illinois, there stands a Lincoln shrine, an old two-room building not generally known. Mrs. F. C. Reilly, granddaughter of Justice Power, and her husband own the cabin, known as the "Power Court House" or "Lincoln Inn" because Lincoln argued his "first" law case there before Justice Power, and slept several nights in Power's house while attending Court. Housed in this obscure building are relics possessed by the Power ancestry for some two hun- dred years — saddle bags brought from Kentucky in 1819, spinning wheels, and so forth. The most valued possession enshrined in the old home is the "poster" bed in which Lincoln slept. Lincoln was brought into mutual relationship with able, progressive men of the legal profession among whom were Douglas, Browning, Trumbull, Edwards, and Logan. Doubtless, the influence of these masters of the science of law was highly beneficial to Lincoln whose knowledge was gleaned largely through the practical study of men. Abraham Lincoln became the junior law partner with Major John T. Stuart in Springfield, Illinois, April 12, 31] 1837, and continued in this capacity until May 14, 1841, when he and former First Circuit Judge Stephen T. Logan established partnership, and carried on till September 20, 1843, or somewhat later in practice, and at this time Lincoln became the senior law partner with William Henry Hern- don. This partnership continued formally until Lincoln's death. Bronze tablets mark the sites of these law ventures, all of which are in close range of the present Sangamon County Court House where Lincoln officially attended Legislative session, where he delivered his famous "House Divided" speech, and where he finally lay in state before interment at Oak Ridge. [32 Abraham Lincoln was not an unfamiliar sight to my forebears of the vicinity of Springfield. They generally called him, plainly, "Lincoln." Some had passed and exchanged greetings with him while he was riding in stage- coach or buggy, or on horseback over the earth roads, and while walking on the board walks of the day. My aunt Clarissa Tufts VanNattan's family lived on Jackson Street near the Lincoln household. They said there was an im- pressive solemnity about his bearing, although on passing he always smiled and gave a friendly greeting. Sometimes on a cold day his shawled or caped figure was seen about the place. He took care of his horse, and neighbors said he had a cow and did the milking for some time. A small barn used to stand at the Jackson Street alley on the Lincoln place. The original house is owned and kept in repair by the State of Illinois. It is on the northeast corner of Eighth and Jackson Streets where the Lincolns lived from 1844 to 1861. He carried groceries home from town, and frequently carried or led one of his boys. Aunt Clara said she had seen Lincoln come out of his home, and play marbles with the boys, when she was a girl "along in the early fifties." He loved children, and was friendly to all he met. The personal experience that impressed her most happened one day when she and her sister Marian were running home from school; Lincoln was ahead of them walking on the boardwalk. Just as they started around him Marian stubbed her toe on a loose board, and as she was falling Lincoln caught her and raised her in his arms 33] saying, as he placed her on her feet, "Now run home and tell your mother you were in Abraham's bosom," while he laid a great hand on each of their heads. Uncle Thomas Peter Renne told of being directed by Lincoln. Uncle Tom, "along in the fifties," was hauling a load of wood from Grandfather's timber to an address in Springfield ; not being sure of the exact location, he stopped his team at a street crossing, and inquired the way of a tall man who was the future President. Lincoln came out to the road, and, in courteous manner, explained minutely how to find the place, which was in his neighborhood. Doubtless many personal observations could have been passed on to us had the people of his time been mindful of their value to future Americans. Mrs. Lizzie Strode Campbell, R. F. D. No. 1, Cantrall, Illinois, writes of her grandparents, John and Mary Strode, and of their pleasant acquaintance with Lincoln the circuit lawyer. The Strode farmstead, ten miles northwest of Springfield, was situated on the Petersburg-Springfield road. The stagecoach carried mail and passengers over that route, and stopped at the Strode home to rest and water the horses. On these occasions, when Lincoln was a passenger, he ate dinner and visited with Mr. Strode and his family. There were eleven children, eight of whom were born on that place. The land for the schoolhouse and cemetery bearing his name, in the district, was given by Mr. Strode who settled on his farm there in 1820, where he lived the rest of his life. The story, typical of many unfounded, was handed down to us, that while walking through the timberland, in central Illinois, Lincoln noticed a hunter, through the trees, aiming his double-barrel shotgun directly at him. "Halloo there !" Lincoln called out. "What are you going to do?" "Stand your ground !" cried the huntsman, "the folks in my settle- {34 merit told me that if I ever found a man uglier than I am, to shoot him on the spot!" "Well," said Lincoln after a better look at the stranger's face, "fire away; for if I am uglier than you are, I don't want to live any longer!" Another story comes down to us from the New Salem days: During the Congressional campaign in 1846, when both Peter Cartwright and Abraham Lincoln were candi- dates, Cartwright was holding evangelistic meetings in a schoolhouse. One evening when Lincoln was in the audience, Cartwright requested all to rise who expected to go to heaven. All stood up except Lincoln. Then Cart- wright asked all who expected to go to hell to "stand up." Lincoln still remained seated. Cartwright was not satisfied with Lincoln's lack of response, and called loudly from the pulpit: "I asked all who expect to go to heaven to rise to their feet! Then I asked all who expect to go to hell to stand up! Now may I inquire, where does Mr. Lincoln expect to go?" Eyes were turned toward Lincoln who rose and said he did not intend to take part in the service, but s^nce Mr. Cartwright insisted he would answer : "I expect to go to Congress." (My grandparents and great-grandparents attended the Cartwright stirring revivals. They said, "He was a power for good.") Grandfather VanNattan and others of the family fre- quently saw Lincoln while riding over the old roadways in Menard and Sangamon Counties south of Athens. The lanky "peasant prince," bronzed by the sun, the wind and dust of the wayside, would chat with the folks while water- ing his horse at the trough by the barnyard fence. He would sometimes adjust the saddle girth and pat the neck of his faithful steed. The mounted rawboned circuit lawyer is passing along the old earth roadway, and the mud splashes from the 35] rhythmical beat of hoofs. He stops his horse, dismounts, and releases a pig trapped in a pasture fence; he turns cattle right-about in a lane to accommodate a farmer. He looks skyward to observe the time. He plods onward; it is early summer, and over the rail fence on either side of the road the dark-green corn is rustling in the breeze. The countryside teems with activity through the long, warm summer days. The harvest moon appears. Pioneer farmsteads, many with log buildings near streams, and areas of hardwood timber, dot the landscape. Level fields of tall corn extend to the horizon. Farmers are cradling the ripened wheat and oats, and the new-mown timothy lies fragrant in the meadows. The cheery bob white calls from the stake of a rail fence flanked by ironweed and black-eyed susans. Livestock graze by the roadside, and from the rolling woodland pastures, clinking cowbells can be heard. The poultry are scattered by a team of horses entering the barnyard with a load of hay, topped by two jubilant reapers. A young woman, singing a hymn, wear- ing a calico dress and sunbonnet, is going toward the log house from the garden. She has stringbeans and tomatoes in a basket, and an armful of roasting ears. At a rude table under a walnut tree, near the ash-hopper, a buxom lass of twelve is plucking the feathers from a plump "dominiquer." A barefoot boy in homespun is drawing water at the windlass, curbed well, and by the woodpile at the edge of the orchard a motherly woman, singing buoyantly, is stirring peach butter in a great kettle. Worthy, unassuming people, those early settlers. They found pleasure in comradeship, while meeting their homely responsibilities close to the good earth. They tilled their land, tended their livestock, spun, wove, mended, quilted, and accomplished with volition their daily tasks. Husking bees and the general harvest were largely community affairs [36 wherein neighboring farmers traded work. Their integrat- ing lives of good will and cooperation created a wholesome environment, and contributed much to the common good of the people at large. They had their neighborhood gather- ings and religious "meetings" in their homes and in the district schoolhouses. A circuit preacher periodically- officiated. The school term was generally a six-months period. Yonder goes a familiar figure, the tall horseman, his saddlebags flapping in unison with his stirruped feet and the drum of fleeting hoofs. It is late summer, and a cloud of dust follows in his wake. He becomes less and less discernible in the material haze till, finally, he disappears in the distance. Honest Abe, the country lawyer, will travel the judicial circuit no more. The people have called him to a greater responsibility. The spirit of honesty and kindness personified in the life of Lincoln, the symbol of brotherhood, will ever be an ennobling influence wherever the story of his life is known. A consciousness of his unobtrusive wisdom and unsophis- ticated personality is keenly felt in the countryside where he worked — striving onward from New Salem to Spring- field. Reminiscent of the tall, lean man with serious, lined face, are the murmuring waters of the Sangamon and the old trail over which he traveled in buggy, stagecoach, and on horseback many times. THE SANGAMON Fair valley of the Sangamon I see, Old home of mine — The fields aglow in pleasant memory, Each friend and lane and tree is dear to me| A gift divine. The morning sunrays o'er the meadows gleam, And give me joy; Oh, wood sublime, and pastureland and stream! How oft I close my weary eyes and dream, A carefree boy. 37] Yon plowman in a field, I see him plod; His life is free, A link between the sun and fertile clod, His honest toil a prayer to mortal's God Thus it should be. The golden grain, the corn, the grazing kine, A vision fair; No language can portray, no word of mine — No pen I hold make clear the scene benign, A haven rare. Beneficent, the winding stream flows by, Imparting life; Its placid pools reflect the earth and sky, Its contours lend their grace to beautify; Here is no strife. Enchantment of the winter's ice and snow, Each spotless drift Fair sculptured by the north winds as they blow, And skating there we felt a wholesome glow, Dame Nature's gift. The wind, the drenching rain, the frost, the sleet, Contribute, all, To make the festive harvest time complete — To make the flowers bloom — the birds entreat, From Spring till Fall. My heart is calm, I bow in silent prayer, In thankfulness, To gracious God for blessings here and there — The Sangamon and all the earth so fair, His name we bless. While meditating I rove again through the haunts of my carefree, boyhood days; mirthfully rambling over the commons north of Springfield. The Sangamon River has always been of inestimable value to the community; this stream has supplied the city with water since 1868 when many of the old wells were abandoned. Driftwood along its low banks has long been a source of fuel to near-by [38 Sangamon River from Irving's Bridge Near New Salem residents, and, despite the mosquitoes, picnics and fishing are enjoyed under its overhanging trees. And, too, from personal memory I can say that swimming was a pleasure in the favored nooks of its swirling waters, though treacherous eddies and deep holes with submerged snags have taken the lives of several bathers, among whom was David S. Griffiths who was drowned while Mayor of Spring- field in 1907. Sometimes corn in the lowland fields was destroyed by the early summer floodwaters, but in favor- able seasons the crops were heavy in the rich bottom land. Horseshoe Lake, northward from the water works, was a safer place for swimmers, and there were Elliott's Lake, the swimming pool at Reisch's dam, the muddy-banked Spring creek, etc. Carpenter's park north of Springfield, bordering the river, is an enchanting dense wildwood and a memorial to William Carpenter, a pioneer of 1820, who built a mill partly of local stone there on the river bank. Along the wooded Sangamon and creek bottom lands berries and game were found in season while in the upland timber there were bountiful crops of various wild nuts, crab apples, redhaws, and the like. We roving youngsters knew where to find them. The Lincoln Monument, being built the year I was born, 1873, was first dedicated in 1874. It has been taken down and rebuilt twice (1901 and 1931) since it was first erected. The exterior is essentially the same as the original design though the interior presents greater refinement. There are no exhibits now, only statuary depicting Lincoln, "The Ranger", "Circuit Rider", etc. The former winding stair- case to the top of spire was eliminated during the re- construction in 1931. Mr. Herbert Wells Fay, the custodian, has a large personal collection of Lincoln pictures and relics which visitors are welcome to see. During summer vacation, some fifty-five years ago, we 39] schoolboys of the neighborhood herded cows on the commons in close range to the Monument. The Rutledge horsecar line used to cross a high trestle near the Tomb some five hundred feet north of Miller's pond at the end of Franklin Avenue. The old ice pond on the southeast corner of Oak Ridge and Franklin Avenues, where in frigid weather crews of men cut ice for storage, and where as gleeful skaters we glided, has, gradually through the years, been filled in. The old brick icehouse, too, is but a memory, where in late summer we romped in the deep sawdust. McCarty's brick- yard, just south of the old icehouse, has passed with many of the old landmarks which were under the shadow of the Monument. The horsecar terminus of former days, at the trestle near the Monument and Tomb, has been annexed to Oak Ridge. To the west of the Monument, Lauterback's brickyard, Steiger's slaughterhouse and areas of timber and pasture land have given way to the expansion of Oak Ridge Cemetery, the Elysian City of the Dead. Wooded areas across the road east of Oak Ridge have been combined to form Lincoln Park, with its lagoon, winding red shale drives, stone pavilion and bridge, and natural groves. The old byways where Lincoln's great character developed call to mind the man who was a brother to the oppressed — a servant of "the American people." [40 The unanimity in the law firm of Lincoln and Herndon is remarkable in view of their dissimilar habits. Evidently Lincoln was a teetotaler, while Herndon was a toper. He admitted in writing that he went on "one spree" ! I well remember comments in the old neighborhood in Fancy Creek Township northwest of Chinquapin bridge, e. g., "There goes Bill Herndon, the old drunkard, he lights his cigars with greenbacks." "Herndon the infidel." Some of these remarks were scathingly serious — some jocular. Although Mr. Herndon was unorthodox, there is evidence attesting his belief in an abstract, impersonal Creator. He expressed his philosophy briefly, thus : My first love is God, then man, then nature. Come let us leap up into the uncolumned air and rest upon the spongy foundations, and there let us see satellite, planet, and sun; sea, air, and land. What do we see? Coexistence and successions, powers and forces, and consciously God — no laws; but all, all governed by constant modes of operation, God, the immediate cause. This is my philosophy. Am I wrong? Doubtless, Herndon was an able lawyer in his time and a popular man in the growing capital city as he was Mayor of Springfield in 1854. 1 Mr. Herndon acknowledged that the decline in his legal practice, after Lincoln's departure to the White House, was due to intemperance. He was conscious of its deteriorating i At this time my grandfather, James Sullivan Renne, was assessor for Springfield. — L. O. R. 41] effect but, like many addicts, he did not have the stability in self-discipline to overcome the acquired thirst. Confirmatory is the following intimate, colloquial letter, written to me January 11, 1940, by my uncle, J. J. Van- Nattan, seventy-eight, Colorado Springs, youngest and only surviving son of Squire Joseph VanNattan. . . . Well Loue old billie Herndon as we called him got so he could hardly afford matches let alone green backs & cigars I have seen him hauled home from town just like you would haul a hog on hay in the back end of the wagon was there at the house when they unloaded him with his jug of whiskey — he would lay up stairs drunk for a week. He could tell any one how to plant seeds to produce the best results but he could not raise any thing but Hell. I was there one day when he was having his potatoes plowed and he was going along ahead of the team with a brush knocking the bugs off I asked him why he was doing that he said to kill them I told him they would all be back in the morning that he would have to catch and kill them by mashing them or with fire [some knocked them into a bucket containing coal oil] so he quit and said well let them have the spuds and even stopped the plow. Yes he rode to town with father and I but not often he had a team of old army mules that would run away every chance they got but your Uncle Dan and I went down to help the boys haul in some hay (the neighbors helped each other in harvest) so Lee Herndon his son by his first wife told Dan to get on one side of the hay rack and Len Trainor on the other with their pitch forks and to prod the mules if they started to run and for me to open the gate so I did and when Lee spoke to them they sure lit out so the boys let them run till they wanted to stop Then was when the fun began the boys would prod the mules ran and kicked and they did that until the mules just stopped and let them prod . . . One day they went to town and they got into a race going home the other team was getting ahead there was a new broom in the wagon and your Uncle Dan picked up the broom and jabed a mule well he stopped so quick the three of them went clear over the dash board on top of the mules You will just have to excuse mistakes and the lead pencil for I am too nervous to write with a pen. I don't know as this will help you much . . . There are a few things that I see happen but they are not printible. Bell, "Billie" and Minnie were the children by his last wife. No Loue he would not allow meetings in his home — the meeting you allude to was at your Uncle Norm's house just north of Herndons. [The meeting at Herndons, to which I refer later, took place when Uncle Joe was at [42 Nickerson, Kansas, where he stayed about three years. It was there he met the girl, Lucy Madigan, who became his wife, and a good aunt to me.] Well old billie was a good kind neighbor Yes little Billie died first. They tried to keep his death from his father but some way he knew it and he told them billie is dead and he was soon gone . . . Well solong and write soon. Your Uncle Joe with lots of love. It is unfortunate that some of the foregoing, et seq., in- cidents should be recorded, and it is only that I believe they will serve a constructive purpose that I reproduce them here. This suggests the question: Would the analysis of anyone's life show a better record than that of Herndon? Personally, though never addicted to alcoholics or tobacco, I am sure my own would fall below his. In 1871 William Henry Herndon established a diversified farm, of some 80 acres, (as I remember it) on the north rolling bank of the Sangamon River just a mile northwest of Chinquapin bridge where he resided with his family till his death, March 18, 1891, at the age of seventy-three years. The selection of this place for a home with its outlook over the river, the timberland and fields, indicates that he was a lover of nature. There is a lane through a natural wooded slope to the house which nestles among trees far back from the public road on the crown of a broad ridge. Mr. Herndon was between sixty and seventy-three years old as I remember him most clearly. He was three years older than Grandfather VanNattan, 1 not so tall, and with grayer beard but no mustache. He was the father of eight children, five by his first wife: Anna, Mary, "Bev," Lee and "Nat." There were three by his second wife: Bell, "Young Bill," and Minnie. i Mother's father, at this time, Justice of the Peace in Fancy Creek Township and member of the local board of school trustees. — L. O. R. 43] My cousin, Mrs. Minnie Brown, who lived a half mile from Herndons when she was a girl and till she was a young woman and married, wrote from Wheeling, Missouri, July 21, 1939: "I have seen Mr. Herndon many times. They said he drank heavily. He never mixed with the neighbors very much, but he always seemed a perfect gentleman. He was taken sick and the boy was taken sick about the same time. The boy died and they tried to keep Mr. Herndon from finding it out. Something seemed to tell him — he said to some one in the room, "That has sure played hell with my business" — and they asked him what; he said, "Willie's dying." He took worse and died right away. They were both buried at the same time. Mr. Herndon was a great lover of flowers. He had a row of peonies clear across his garden ... As I remember her (Mrs. Herndon) she was a refined educated lady. Her name was Annie Miles, . . . (his second wife). September 30, 1939 Willie Herndon died the day before his father. (Departures separated by midnight.) I know because Mother and Father were there so much during their sickness and deaths. Papa helped the undertaker prepare their bodies for burial ... (At the funeral the preacher said, "We will leave his record with his Maker.") It is not difficult to understand how some accounts con- fuse the time of the deaths of Herndon and his son, in view of the circumstances : time, location, closeness of departure, the same names, etc. My uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Newlun (Mrs. Minnie Brown's parents), who were present during the bereavement, said that "Young Billie" died first. "Edd" and Annie Herndon, grandchildren of William Henry Herndon — son and daughter of Lee, used to visit at the country home. Edd was quite a dandy, around twenty when I knew him. From Springfield, he came out to see his grandfather's family as I visited my grandparents. To me, around ten to fourteen, Edd's small, black, well-twisted mustache was the acme of man's acquirements, and my [44 great ambition was to grow a black, curled one just like Edd's. Some ten years later I raised a small mustache, but, alas, it was the color of bleached straw ! Minnie and Annie, though aunt and niece, were about the same age. Annie was comely and likeable, while Minnie was beautiful of form and features, and, best of all, personality. She had a smile for everybody. One summer evening when we were in our latter teens, and Minnie was visiting with Annie in Springfield, another fellow and I met them down town, and saw them home from the square. Of course I, the homely, walked with captivating Minnie. I couldn't restrain my hands and arms, and wanted to kiss her goodnight (where is the man who wouldn't, whether nineteen or ninety!), but she pulled away with a smile, and ran across the lawn with Annie to the house. As we were all close together I noticed that the other youth had the same disappointing experience with Annie. In those days I was more interested in Minnie's charms than in the Lin- coln data which her father was "diligently" compiling. I remember in 1885 attending religious service at the Herndon home. I went with Grandfather, Squire Joseph VanNattan, who lived a mile northwest of Herndons, and who was the leader. Mr. Herndon took no part in the "meeting" and did not stay in the room. It was Mrs. Herndon, as I recollect, who invited the neighbors for that evening. Her husband, "old Billie," generally opposed suggestions that prayer meetings be held in his house. (Because he had observed hypocrisy in some church mem- bers he censured all professed Christians.) There was no church for miles around and it was the custom to hold meetings in the Wiggins and Strode schoolhouses and, alternately, at the neighbors who were in sympathy with the religious movement. There was a good representation of the neighborhood at those services, and I recall that 45] evening at Herndon's, sitting close on quilt-covered planks which supplemented the chairs, that a mischievous youth called out to Bell Herndon, who was a robust young woman : "Sit closer, Bell!" Those meetings, with their sincere prayers and testimonies and heartfelt songs of praise, made a lasting spiritual influence on many of the attendants. Most of the neighbors, old and young, came out to those religious meetings. Gallants escorted their ladies, and joined in the sacred songs. I visualize those devout leaders and congregations that met by turns in the neighboring homes, some sitting on chairs in rows and others on im- provised benches. I remember attending meetings at the Wiggins and Strode schoolhouses and at several of the farm homes in Fancy Creek Township — the Bulah's, Herndon's, Jefferies', Snyder's, Squire VanNattan's, and Norman VanNattan's. Occasionally they met together in winter. I hear the sleigh bells, and see the cutters and bobsleds, drawn by trotting horses, moving along over the snow. The folks rein up at the front gate, alight, "tie up" at the hitching post and rails, blanket their teams, and file into the neighborly home. From the lighted room comes the glad refrain, "Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love ..." Sometimes in summer, on Sunday, they would meet outdoors at Grandfather's on the bluegrass beside the flower garden under the friendly trees. Rather salutary, this assembling for spiritual and social well-being. Some, from a distance, rode horseback or in buggies or ill other horse-drawn vehicles; some walked — "the young folks" arm-in-arm, from adjacent farmsteads. The devoted leaders, in those union services, denounced sin in every form; there was no compromise, even with minor evils. Here was exemplary "youth guidance," wholesome training in Christian ethics, in moral principles, a challenge to the laxity of modern "Y's," formal churches, and to Depart- [46 ments of Social Science in our present-day institutions of higher learning. The entrance to the Herndon farm was adjacent to my Uncle Norman VanNattan's home from which the Chin- quapin bridge could be seen, and hoofs and iron-rimmed wheels could be heard rumbling over the plank floor of the wooden bridge which spanned the famous Sangamon. The river, except the western bend, was hidden by a dense growth of trees and brush which skirted the stream. Gone forever are many of the quaint reminders of the old days. The covered bridge has been replaced by one of steel which is not graced by the long, wooden sign : driving through THIS BRIDGE FASTER THAN A WALK STRICTLY PROHIBITED, though the spring hard by, that refreshed wayfarers, still flows. Although Herndon's home was about six miles north of Springfield he did not depend on any horse to make the trip. He would sometimes walk the entire distance to get his mail. This was many years before Rural-Free-Delivery was established. The walk to town was not unusual in those days. Aunt "Sally" Swallow, my grandmother Van Nattan's elder sister, when past seventy, sometimes walked the seven miles from the home place to Springfield. Of course, if a farmer, driving along the road, overtook a foot- traveler, he was sure to rein up and call out, "Climb in !" Mr. Herndon kept rather aloof from his neighbors and from the activities of the religious and temperance group in Fancy Creek Township in which Squire VanNattan was prominent. Notwithstanding, he was on speaking terms with Grandfather and with all others he casually met. Some attributed his aloofness to a false sense of superiority because he had been associated with Lincoln as a lawyer. Some in the vicinity thought he avoided them because he was ashamed of his spells of inebriety, while others looked down on "old Bill Herndon, the drunkard," as a degenerate. 47] 8 Vivid is the old neighborhood in random reverie. Again I ride from town with Grandfather who overtakes and invites Mr. Herndon to share the spring seat; he stops his team at the top of the Chinquapin grade, and locks a hind wheel of the wagon to ease the horses down the steep road. He releases the chain at the foot of the hill, and we clatter across the old covered bridge and along the Sangamon bottom levee. From the interlacing trees near the river a wood thrush is pouring forth his melody. The Day farm, with its big white house and vineyard on the upland, is to the right, and to the left of the bend the Herndon home is up over the hill. I look back after passing the big gate, where the neighbor alighted, and see a pathetic, ay, a tragic figure, trudging with unsteady step up the lane under the overhanging trees, holding fast to his mail. Two crows wing low over John Strode's berry patch, fly higher over the road, and caw as they light in the top of an oak in the Herndon pasture. I hear the loud neigh of Uncle Norm's stallion from the stable near by. Grandfather seems de- pressed as he slaps his roans with the lines. "That infernal alcohol," he ejaculates. The stallion screams again, and I hear him prance as we pass the barn. We greet Uncle Mose, an ex-slave, and his daughter, Mosella, walking along the road. (The neighbors like these good-natured colored people who work on the Day farm.) Uncle Norm waves from the door of his grist mill hard by; we wave back and move on. 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