6 
 
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 OGLESBY AT HOME. 
 
 A Visit to the Hon. Richard James Oglesby at his Home at Lincoln, Logan County 
 A Pen Picture A Marvelously Varied Career Carpenter and Lawyer A Soldier 
 in Two Wars Not a good Politician, but a Plain, Honest Man who ' 'Keeps Close 
 to the People." 
 
 At 3 :00 a. m. the Chicago train stopped not long since at Lin- 
 coln, 111. From the rear sleeper a solitary pilgrim descended and 
 encountered a fierce snow-storm that buffeted him in the face, and 
 pushed against him, and roared menacingly from the telegraph- 
 wires, as if to prevent his presence. 
 
 Long studied he as to the route which led to shelter from the 
 hostile storm, and at length espied a little light in the far distance, 
 which he reached after much struggling with ambuscading ditches, 
 broken sidewalks, posts which suddenly came in the way as if they 
 had sprung up from the ground to dispute his passage. At last, 
 storm-beaten and sorely lacerated in his feelings over this ungenial 
 welcome, he gained a fire and a bed. 
 
 Gazing from the hotel windows the next morning he found that 
 Lincoln was not at its best. The sky was as sombre as if in 
 three-quarter mourning; the streets were vast streams of mud, as 
 black as night, and as unfathomable. Across the way were lines 
 of stores, brick and wood, with their fronts Ranged" to increase 
 their height. There was a black dog in an opposite doorway that 
 cast appealing and incessant glances at the door-handle, as if that 
 were the thing which would admit him to the fire within. A few 
 men, with their trousers thrust into muddy boots, came at inter- 
 vals along the sidewalk, coming apparently from nowhere, wanting 
 nothing as it seemed, and going to no place in particular. 
 
 Leaving the hotel in due season the pilgrim went out into the 
 city. He boldly crossed the great channels of mud used for streets, 
 but fortunately frozen into rigidity; he went east, then west, then 
 diagonally otherwise, changing his course at intervals. He passed 
 along sidewalks under wooden awnings; he saw vast collections of 
 farmers' wagons side by side, their teams hitched to interminable 
 lines of wooden railings; he passed parks whose trees had been 
 sawed off at the top at a level so uniform that it appeared to be 
 the work of some gigantic scytheman; and at last he reached the 
 house to which he had been directed. He rang the bell, asked if 
 the gentleman was in, and was informed that he lived somewhere 
 else.
 
 On another corner is a square, wooden house with some eccentric 
 extensions on one or two sides, two stories in height, with a "hip" 
 roof. It is not old, and yet somewhat remote from the time it was 
 new. It appears comfortable in its external indications, not in 
 the least ostentatious, suggestive of display, or the result of much 
 wealth. A plain and yet substantial wooden fence surrounds the 
 ground, which, a half acre or so in extent, is covered with forest 
 and fruit trees. Taken as a whole, ground, house, fence, trees, 
 suggest a moderate income, freedom from display, comfort, hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 As he enters the gate the pilgrim notices a little conservatory 
 which has been constructed over a portion of what was once a 
 veranda along the front of the house. He sees the green of leaves 
 and the brilliant hues of blossoms through the panes, and they 
 afford him the first relief from the brown dead grass of winter and 
 the gloom of the inky streets. The visitor pulls the bell of the 
 door leading into the conservatory. Almost instantly the door is 
 swung open, and there appears a well-shaped man just above med- 
 ium height whose first suggestion is of greyness and geniality. 
 
 "Governor Oglesby?" ventures the visitor. 
 
 "Yes, sir," says he, "Walk right in !" he continues, with a beam- 
 ing smile, and without taking the trouble to ask the name or the 
 business of the new-comer. "This way," and a moment later the 
 pilgrim is sitting in the library face to face with the Governor, 
 and five minutes later is on as easy terms with him as if he had 
 known him for half a century. 
 
 A VISITOR. 
 
 Cigars are proffered, lighted, and then they chat. Meanwhile 
 the pilgrim studies the man before him, and becomes amazed. He 
 notices the erect form, trim and well-proportioned as that of an 
 athlete in training, and then bursts out : 
 
 "Is it possible that you are the 220 pounder whom I saw at 
 Bird's Point in 1862, at Donaldson, later at Shiloh, and other 
 places? Are you the one that during those days went cantering 
 around on a horse that must have thought himself an equine Atlas, 
 and who certainly 'toted' you about wishing that he had been a 
 mule or never born?" 
 
 "I am the man," he answered with a smile so pleasant that it 
 seemed to assert that nothing in his life had ever occurred to 
 him which pleased him so much as the loss of fifty pounds of flesh 
 and the change of his locks to a snowy white. 
 
 There is nothing especially salient in any single feature. The 
 eyebrows are long, handsomely rounded, and black. The nose is 
 neither small nor large, but one which, somewhat pointed and pro- 
 jecting, seems to aid him at moments when he is concentrated in 
 his thought and speech. At such moments the entire face seems 
 to thrust itself forward as if to constitute a species of pointed
 
 wedge, with the nose as the terminal and entering point. The 
 brows rally on the centre, the eyelids fall as if to protect the eyes 
 in the approaching charge, the mouth narrows, even the cheeks 
 are thrust towards the common centre. When intensely in earnest 
 this appearance of concentration becomes marked and striking. It 
 gives a vigor, an intensity, a strength to the face that transforms 
 its character, especially when in repose. When he is full of humor 
 the eyes open to their entire width and flash with indescribable 
 fun; the mouth widens; the angry corrugations of the brow roll 
 away; the cheeks broaden; the white teeth flash out and the 
 storm is over. 
 
 The eyes are a hazel gray, but are incessantly changeful. They 
 are full of emitting light, they are now and then gloomily intro- 
 spective, they are sad, they flash with fun; and, in brief, like 
 every feature of his countenance, they are kaleidoscopic in their 
 variety. He has in no respect that immobility so much admired 
 in pictures of great historical characters. He has none of that 
 impenetrability of face in which one reads nothing, but whose 
 solemn eyes seem to pierce one's inmost soul. His expression con- 
 tinually changes, and is the exact reflex of every emotion that pos- 
 sesses him. One can find enjoyment simply by watching these in- 
 exhaustible movements of his features ; they would tell a delightful 
 and connected story without hearing a word that flows from the 
 flexible lips. 
 
 His lips are thin and have none of that fullness so often seen 
 in great speakers. The mouth is wide, and with the thin lips, 
 seems to be indicative of firmness even obstinacy. The face is 
 cleanly shaven, the complexion fresh, the expression of the whole 
 virile a youthful face beneath a crown of snowy hair. 
 
 When in repose, his face has a touch of sadness, but it is still 
 strong, composed, resigned. There is no suggestion of discontent 
 nor of ill nature. It seems that of one who has suffered much, but 
 who has had the endurance to encounter obstacles without subjuga- 
 tion. 
 
 As the pilgrim listens to him he is impressed with the idea that 
 geniality and thorough good nature are predominant traits. He 
 is kindly too. His allusions to old opponents political, social or 
 otherwise are never accompanied with any bitterness. His anec- 
 dotes are those in which humor prevail, and he roars over the cli- 
 max as heartily as the most appreciative listeners a deep, hearty, 
 honest laugh that is contagious, and makes one feel better, more 
 honest, more kindly for having participated in it. 
 
 He is not all humor. At intervals a pathetic flash appears, and 
 in a twinkle the eye of the speaker is humid, and the rain of emo- 
 tion bespatters the cheek of his auditor. Often during his stay did 
 the pilgrim find himself struggling in a whirlpool of tears and 
 laughter.
 
 How HE BECAME AN ABOLITIONIST. 
 
 "How was it, Governor," queried the visitor, "that you, a 
 Kentuckian, became such a confirmed abolitionist?" 
 
 "Well, for many reasons, but one of the principal ones came 
 from a negro man called HJncle Tim/ He was a slave who had 
 descended from my grandfather to my father, and was one of 
 several in the family. My father died when I was a small boy, 
 and we became embarrassed, and in order to divide up what little 
 there was left 'Uncle Tim' had to be sold. I well remember him 
 as he stood up on a box to be ready for the sale. He was a power- 
 ful man, far above the average height, with a manly bearing, a 
 fine face, and a skin as black as ebony. He had always been very 
 fond of us children, and I thought almost as much of him as if he 
 had been my own father. 
 
 "As he stood waiting he implored, with tears streaming from his 
 eyes, a brother of my father to buy him. That was impossible, and, 
 observing his dejection and surmising its cause, I said: 
 
 " TTncle Tim/ I am going to work to earn money, and when I 
 get enough I will buy you and set you free. 
 
 "His face lighted up with pride and pleasure as I said this, 
 but which was immediately followed by a look of despair. He came 
 down, lifted me up in his arms, and said sadly: 'Thanks, Marse 
 Dick, you are a poor orphan and won't never be rich enough to 
 buy Uncle Tim.' He was sold, and being past his prime, only 
 brought some $400. 
 
 "I moved to Illinois in time; I struggled; I went back to Ken- 
 tucky, and grew no richer. I used to see Uncle Tim occasionally, 
 and I always assured him that some day I would buy him. He 
 always seemed to listen to me gratefully, but apparently had no 
 hope of my success. In 1849, I went to California, and after much 
 effort I made a few thousand dollars, and then returned to the 
 States. The first thing I did was to fulfill my promise. I sent 
 the money to my brother, and Uncle Tim was purchased. 
 
 "I was standing in front of the porch of my brother's house 
 seme days later, when Uncle Tim came out of a piece of woods 
 a little distance away, and approached along a pathway. It was a 
 striking picture such as I never before or since have witnessed. 
 He was a giant in stature; his abundant gray hair was thrown 
 back on his shoulders, his face was livid and ashen, reminding one 
 of the statue of Moses, by Michael Angelo. His countenance was 
 aglow" here Oglesby rose to his feet, and with expanded chest 
 brought his upraised arm down with the sweep of a sledge-hammer, 
 and continued "and shone as if lighted by the very presence of 
 the Holy Ghost. When he caught sight of me, he stopped, threw 
 back his head, raised his arms far above him, and exclaimed : 'My 
 God! my God! has the little orphan boy lived to buy and set me 
 free !'
 
 "Then he put his arms around me and tried to lift me as in 
 the old days, but he had grown too weak, and I had grown too 
 large. <You can't lift me any more, Uncle Tim,' I said. 'No,' he 
 answered in a sad tone ; and. then, with an exulting tone he shouted, 
 as he turned his face toward the sky, 'Halleluiah! Halleluiah! 
 I'se free !' ' 
 
 "HONEST DICK/' 
 
 In nothing to be inferred from the appearance and the conver- 
 sation of the host was the visitor so much impressed as with the 
 assurance of his inviolable honesty. He is the embodiment of per- 
 fect frankness. One who listens to him, who watches him as he 
 talks, feels and knows beyond all cavil that he means just what 
 he is saying, that he is concealing nothing, that there is no un- 
 uttered, secret thought. He impresses one with the conviction that 
 he is no sham ; that he has a profound hatred for all that is hollow 
 or pretends to be what it is not. His beautiful sincerity shines on 
 his honest face, rings in his vibrating and hearty tones, and forces 
 itself as an unalterable conviction into the consciousness of every 
 one who listens to him. Withal he is modest to a single degree that 
 is almost girlish. When he speaks of himself, it is with diffidence 
 and difficulty, unless it be some instance in which he has been the 
 victim of some practical pleasantry on the part of his associates. 
 To listen to his narration of his own life, as he tells it, he has 
 been an humble lawyer, a modest, undeserving soldier, a Governor, 
 and a member of the National Senate, all for no especial good 
 that he has done, nothing possibly save the good will of his per- 
 haps too partial friends. 
 
 His honesty of expression is sometimes curiously shown. "I 
 don't like so-and-so," he would say, (possibly one of his political 
 associates). "I do like Blank. He is honest; they may say what 
 they will, he is honest." One would think that so old a politician 
 would learn to mask his thoughts, but he is in no sense a Talley- 
 rand. While it is apparent that perfect frankness pervades his 
 utterances, it may be that he does not introduce and present every 
 subject on which he has opinions. When he talks on a subject, he 
 reserves nothing; but it may be that in the storehouse of his 
 thought, there rest in silence deep convictions which he does not 
 hold for everyday exhibitions. Often there is a play over his face, 
 like the "heat" lightnings of summer, which afford glimpses of 
 deep banks of clouds, and suggestions of a storm which is raging 
 out of sight, far below the line of the horizon. 
 
 All these indications of his perfect integrity are borne out by 
 the record of his long and varied life. Whether as a private citi- 
 zen, a soldier, or a statesman, he has lived beyond reproach. There 
 is no human being, whether political opponent or personal enemy 
 if he have any can truthfully charge that he has, in the smallest 
 particular, either in his private or his public career, ever varied 
 from the unswerving line of honesty.
 
 6 
 
 The pilgrim noticed that the host had many callers, and that 
 he met and spoke with many people on the street. In no instance 
 did he take them by the button-hole, or converse in low, mysterious 
 tones. He stood erect and fronted his listener at arms' length 
 just good striking distance, and as if ready if needs be, to give or 
 take straight from the shoulder. The pilgrim saw this, and con- 
 cluded that the Governor is no politician; that he knows nothing 
 of the mystery, the subterfuges, the dissembling the sinuosities of 
 the machine. 
 
 The altitude which men attain in the hard ascent of life is not 
 to be considered, save with reference to the distance overcc.me, and 
 the severity of the struggle. There are cases in which a man may 
 reach the humble elevation of judge of the county court, and yet 
 be entitled to more credit than one who succeeds in becoming Presi- 
 dent of this great Republic. Judged from this standpoint, there 
 are few men in the Nation who are deserving of more credit for 
 their endeavor and their attainment than ex-Governor Oglesby. 
 Long, weary, indescribable has been the route which he has tra- 
 versed. Few men of note in this country, almost none in any 
 other country, have encountered obstacles of equal magnitude, and 
 not one in a million who have encountered them has surmounted 
 them. A brief allusion to his early days, afford more than a thou- 
 sand mere assertions, a view of his indomitable energy, his unfail- 
 ing virility, his undaunted perseverance. 
 
 EARLY DAYS. 
 
 He was born July 25, St. James' day, 1824, at a time when the 
 people and the age were centuries behind the splendid period which 
 now has possessed the world. Oldham, Ky., the place of his birth, 
 and fifteen miles from Louisville, might as well have been in the 
 middle of Sahara, although but so short a distance from a noted 
 centre of civilization and refinement. His parents had come from 
 Virginia; his mother was of English and his father of Scotch 
 descent. From the latter he obtains undoubtedly much of his 
 firmness and endurance those qualities which have carried him 
 through so manv vicissitudes, and have held him steady in his 
 determination. 
 
 His father was originally a farmer, and was Colonel of a militia 
 regiment, and a member of the Legislature. In June, 1833, the 
 father was living in Brownsboro ; and during this year the cholera 
 visited the locality, and in a very bief time carried off the father, 
 mother, a brother and a sister. Another sister and himself were 
 taken to the home of his father's brother, who lived in the village 
 where the parents died. It was but a short time before another 
 brother fell a victim to the insatiate scourge, cholera, and died on 
 the bed on which young Oglesby was lying. 
 
 Can anything more desolate be imagined than the condition of 
 this poor orphan ? He was nine years of age, fatherless, motherless,
 
 afflicted with all the distress and horror which come to a young boy 
 who has just been enveloped in a whirlwind of death. Five family 
 deaths, including those who were dearest to him, weighed upon 
 him, and the burden was one which far more sturdy shoulders 
 might have fallen under. There were no schools at that time for 
 the use of the public. He could not read. In knowledge he was 
 not one whit removed from savagery, except in the Christian teach- 
 ings of his home. There was no money in those days in such re- 
 mote districts as the one in which he lived. The people were prim- 
 itive, kind, generous, hospitable. They could only pity his mis- 
 fortunes and afford him such consolation as can be found in kind 
 utterances and good wishes. 
 
 After the death of his father he managed, while with his uncle, 
 to learn to read, spell, and write a little, and secure some knowl- 
 edge of mental arithmetic. This is substantially all the actual 
 schooling of his life, except a three months' term which he took 
 in 1843 at Decatur, 111. He worked for his uncle, doing the labor, 
 much of it mental, which would be required of a boy in a small 
 village. His life at this period was one of unusual privation, which, 
 coupled with the death of his relatives and the dispersion of his 
 family, gave a tinge of melancholy to a disposition which natur- 
 ally was gay and exuberant. It occurred many times to the pil- 
 grim as he sat in the cozy library and watched the play of light and 
 shadow on the face of the Governor, that there was in his composi- 
 tion a suggestion of gloom which perhaps owed its origin to these 
 early davs of orphanage, severity, and servile labor. 
 
 In 1836 his uncle removed to Decatur, 111., and brought with 
 him the future Governor of this great Commonwealth, and two of 
 his sisters. Did the young orphan feel like Dick Whittington, as 
 he, equally friendless and poor, entered the great city of London, 
 whose Lord Mayor he was one day to become? Probably he had 
 no presentiment of his coming greatness ; possibly, so far as he in- 
 terrogated the future, a bit of land which he should in time own, 
 and a modest competence earned by arduous and incessant labor 
 and shared bv some rosy-cheeked woman, formed the constituents 
 of the enchanting picture with which his imagination supplied him. 
 
 For a year the family of six worked a small farm, slept, cooked, 
 and lived in a log cabin. During this year, fate, as if he had not 
 already been sufficiently afflicted, struck him again in the person of 
 his younger sister, who died and was buried at Decatur. The 
 uncle and nephew managed the farm and performed all the labor. 
 Evidently discouraged with Illinois, the uncle, at the end of the 
 year, migrated back to Kentucky, taking the nephew with him. 
 The latter was put out to work on a farm, and at the end of an- 
 other year the uneasy uncle once more removed to Decatur. It may 
 be of interest to state that on their return to Decatur in 1837, a 
 sister of young Oglesbv, Ophelia, was married to a Mr. Adamson, 
 and that she still resides at Decatur with her second husband, a 
 Mr. Peddecorcl.
 
 8 
 
 The migratory uncle remained one month in Decatur, and then 
 took his family and line of march for Terre Haute, Ind., where 
 the nephew was permitted to rest himself without emigrating. 
 
 Keferring to this portion of his life, the Governor tells how 
 near he once came to crossing the Stygian river, and of a curious 
 mental state developed during the occurrence of the event. He 
 went in swimming one day with a neighboring lad, although he 
 could not swim a stroke. He managed, of course, to get beyond 
 his depth, and at once sank. 
 
 "I had heard" he said, "that when a person in the water goes 
 down the third time, he drowns. I counted distinctly the number 
 of times I sank, and when I went down the third time I said to 
 myself: 'Now I am dead!' Every event of my life passed before 
 me with vivid distinctness, but without creating any peculiar feel- 
 ing. I saw them go by as if they were a swiftly-moving panorama. 
 I was dead, I knew I was dead, and I died without a struggle or 
 pain of any kind whatever." With the aid of some men in a neigh- 
 boring mill, his companion fished him out, and in half an hour 
 he was restored to life and consciousness. He suffered intensely 
 during the progress of his recovery, his misery being augmented 
 by the fact that he had gone in bathing without permission. His 
 feelings during the period of his sinking and his sensations, or 
 rather the absence of them, as he sank the last time his convic- 
 tion that he was dead, are experiences all unique in their charac- 
 ter and develop some curious psychological facts. 
 
 AN ACTOIL 
 
 The year came to an end, and the uncle again prepared to flit 
 to some other locality. This time he did not take his nephew 
 with him; he gave him his benediction and a dollar, and started 
 him toward the grand rallying point, Decatur, while he took up 
 his line of march for Indianapolis. At this point in his life, the fu- 
 ture Senator from Illinois had a silver dollar in his pocket, his 
 future before him, and a walk of a hundred miles to Decatur. 
 The trip has some points of interest in that the young tramp was 
 taken for a runaway apprentice, and in the further fact that he 
 came near becoming an actor, in which case there would have 
 been a material change in his after life. At a place known as 
 Wallace's, he found a troupe of players known as the Jeffersons, 
 (were they any kin of the famous Joe?) The Governor speaks 
 as follows : 
 
 "The company consisted of an old gentleman, a son, and two or 
 three daughters. During the evening, while sitting around the 
 big log fire, I crouched down between the old man and the jamb of 
 the fireplace. After a time the old gentleman, turning to me, put 
 his hand on my head in a kindly manner, and said, 'My boy, would 
 you like to become a showman ?' 'Yes,' I answered, 'I had rather 
 be a showman than anything else in the world.' He replied, 'I
 
 have a notion to take you with me, but whom, do you belong to?' 
 'My father and mother are dead ; my uncle has turned me off to go 
 to my sister in Decatur, and I belong to nobody. I can just as 
 well go with you as not.' 
 
 "I slept but little that night. I was full of anticipations as to 
 what might be in case they took me with them, and I was in despair 
 fearing that I would not be wanted. The morning came at last, 
 and with alternate dashes of hope and fear, I awaited my fate. The 
 teams were brought out, and as they were about to start, the old 
 gentleman came to me and said, 'My boy, I should like very much 
 to have you; I have talked to my daughters and Mr. Wallace about 
 you. Mr. Wallace says he knows your uncle and others of your 
 relatives, and he thinks perhaps we had best not take you.' My 
 disappointment over this conclusion was poignant, for I was most 
 anxious to go with them." 
 
 Upon reaching Decatur, he obtained work in a hotel. "One of 
 my most pleasing recollections of this period of my life," says the 
 Governor, "relates to a time when I was employed in the hotel, 
 and when a part of my duty was to attend to Dr. Rogers, who had 
 then recently arrived from New York. On one occasion the Doc- 
 tor was so pleased with my work that he gave me a silver dollar 
 a fortune in those days ! The Doctor was afterward, in 1873, the 
 Democratic legislator from McLean county, at the time when the 
 Legislature did me the honor to elect me to the Senate of the 
 United States. Dr. Rogers remarked on that occasion that he was 
 so well pleased with the care I took of his horse, that if it were 
 not for his politics, he would certainly give me his vote." 
 
 LEARNING A TRADE. 
 
 In 1840, by the advice of some of his relatives, he concluded to 
 learn a trade. He selected carpentry, and was sent back to Ken- 
 tucky, as if that were the only place in which a man could acquire 
 that difficult profession if it may be so termed. He remained in 
 Kentucky, learned the trade, did odd jobs of carpentry, and in 
 the spring of 1842, he returned once more to Illinois. By some 
 irresistible attraction, wherever he wandered, Illinois always drew 
 him back to the soil and the people of whom he was to become a 
 part, and so weighty and worthy a representative. Is it true that 
 some "destiny will shape our ends, rough-hew them as we may?" 
 He tried to be an actor; he tried to become a farmer; a carpenter, 
 a miner; he removed from Illinois to Kentucky, to Indiana, to 
 California; but he failed in all his efforts. No other State would 
 contain him, and he was driven repeatedly back to Illinois, often 
 against his will and his judgment. Destiny had in store for him 
 a mission, and would not be balked of its purpose. 
 
 In 1842, he returned to Illinois, worked at his trade when he 
 could find anything to do, and in the winter of the same year, he 
 obtained three months of the only regular schooling of his life,
 
 .10 
 
 under the teaching of Lemuel Allen, now a resident of Pekin, and 
 who is regarded by his old pupil as a most capital instructor. In 
 the spring of 1844, he made another attempt to woo the smiles of 
 fortune by joining with Allen in the renting of forty acres of 
 land near Decatur, which they divided equally between oats, corn, 
 and hemp. They worked very hard, and at the close of the season 
 the oats paid the rent of the land, Allen took the corn for his share, 
 and Oglesby took the raw hemp. He invented a machine for 
 braking it, spent a vast amount of time in getting it ready for the 
 market, and at the close of the transaction he found himself with 
 the results in his pocket, to-wit: $6.50. This munificent return 
 did not include his board, which had been furnished him for 
 nothing by some of his relatives. 
 
 Evidently destiny did not intend him for a farmer. He had, 
 however, managed to extract some compensation out of the year's 
 labor. There was a flatboat built and launched at Decatur that 
 year for use on the Sangamon river, the first of its kind at that 
 point; and "I had the proud satisfaction/' he says, "of having 
 twisted from my flax, and on my walk, the rope with which the flat- 
 boat was launched." There was something of the man in the 
 boy; he had worked all summer for less than nothing, but he was 
 enabled to serve the public, and to a considerable extent he felt 
 that his weary labor had not been wholly in vain. 
 
 A LAW STUDENT. 
 
 At this point in his life there came a change. In 1844, being 
 then 20 years of age, he gave up manual labor, and entered on the 
 study of law in the office of Judge Silas W. Eobbins, in Spring- 
 field, 111. He was in no condition to begin the study of any pro- 
 fession, as he had had no opportunity for any preparatory reading 
 or cultivation. The first book which he ever read through, was 
 the first volume of Blackstone's Commentaries. His board was 
 paid by his brother-in-law, Mr. Prather, of Decatur. One of his 
 fellow-students was Benjamin Prett.yman, who afterwards attained 
 some distinction as a lawyer, and is now a resident of Tazewell 
 county. In the autumn of 1845, he was licensed to practice, and 
 opened an office in Sullivan, Moultrie county. Here, for the first 
 time, he studied the statutes of the State, and also the Constitu- 
 tion of the United States. He had some cases at the spring term, 
 and then returned to Decatur. 
 
 A MEXICAN- WAR SOLDIER. 
 
 It may be inferred that he was not pleased with the law, or else 
 that fate had yet some more buffetings in store for him before 
 she deemed fitted for his final task. She wished to broaden his 
 experience, and this time sent him out as a soldier. He enlisted as 
 a private for the Mexican war, and, although at the time the posi-
 
 11 
 
 tion was a humble one, the step had its influence in later life. It 
 prepared him for intelligent participation in the gigantic Civil 
 War of the States, and was the foundation on which was based 
 the high promotion which was constructed for his benefit and as 
 a reward for his services. 
 
 He enlisted in Company C of the Eighth Illinois Infantry, Col. 
 Baker in command. He was elected Second Lieutenant at the com- 
 pany election, and evidently, at last, found himself in a congenial 
 atmosphere. He became a close student of Hardee's tactics, and in 
 a little time was made drillmaster of the company. He was so 
 successful in this work that in a little time he had made the com- 
 pany the best-drilled one in the regiment, but had made himself 
 thoroughly disliked by many of the members, who were not dis- 
 posed to submit to such tasks, and who saw no reason why they 
 should not enjoy soldiering as they would a picnic. 
 
 RUNNING A FOOT-RACE. 
 
 A little episode grew out of this unpopularity which is illus- 
 trative of a salient trait in the character of the Governor. The 
 opposition against him grew into open murmurs, and arranged it- 
 self about a member of the same company, who, it was urged by 
 the malcontents, would be a better man in Oglesby's place. They 
 began to demand that there should be held another election. 
 
 One day, at the close of a dress parade, a young man stepped 
 in front of the company and said in a loud voice, "I will bet two 
 jackknives and a nuarter of a dollar that Blank (naming the rival 
 of the unpopular lieutenant) can beat Dick Oglesby in a foot-race 
 of sixty yards." A friend of the latter immediately stepped for- 
 ward and accepted a challenge. 
 
 "I knew at once," said the Governor, in commenting on the in- 
 cident, "what this challenge meant. It was an attempt to disgrace 
 me. He was a noted athlete, especially as a runner, and it was 
 thought he could beat me easily. Then it was expected that I 
 would be forced to resign, and he would, of course, be elected to fill 
 the vacancy. 
 
 ef l accepted the challenge, for there was nothing else to do. It 
 was success or ruin. The propped event created an immense 
 amount of excitement, and was the talk of the camp. I had my 
 surmorters, and they bet their jackknives, money, when they had 
 it, and anything which would be accepted as a wager. 
 
 "The appointed day came, and, stripped to the buff, except as 
 to trousers, we toed the line. Both were bareheaded, I was bare- 
 footed, he wore his stockings. Along on both sides of the track 
 to be run over the entire regiment was gathered, and with it were 
 vast numbers of civilian spectators. I felt that my very life was on 
 the race, and that I would win I must win. 
 
 "The word was given, and we started like deer-hounds. We ran 
 abreast, not the fraction of an inch being perceptible as the gain
 
 12 
 
 of either. Pull away from him I could not. The crowd roared 
 and cheered, and frantically called the names of one or the other 
 of us to win the race. Clinging thus to each other, we went on 
 till we began to near the line, and for a moment a feeling of des- 
 pair came over me, and I believed I was lost! Just then there 
 came over me like an electric flash the conviction, I cannot, I must 
 not, lose! A mighty impulse possessed me; I made a prodigious 
 bound and crossed the line six inches in advance ! 
 
 "The roar that went from the crowd was deafening! I was 
 the hero of the hour ! From that time there was no opposition in 
 the company, and my opponent became a hearty friend." 
 
 On his return from Mexico, he resumed the practice of law at 
 Decatur, until December of 1848, when he attended for three 
 months the Louisville Law School, and received his diploma in 
 the spring of 1849. 
 
 He had hardly had his diploma framed and hung up, when he 
 abandoned the practice of law, became a modern Jason, char- 
 tered and rigged an Argo in the shape of a six-mule team, and 
 started in search of the Golden Fleece, then to be found in a later 
 Colchis known as California. He made the trip, but was crushed 
 between the Symplegades in a loss of $3,000 by the failure of 
 Barton, and the loss of $3,500 by the burning of Nevada. He re- 
 turned from California, having in his possession a portion of the 
 Golden Fleece, whose cash or marketable value was rated at $4,500, 
 and immediately thereafter he resumed the practice of law. This 
 was in 1852. 
 
 PRACTICING LAW. 
 
 "At that time," related the Governor, "Judge David Davis, of 
 Bloomington, was the Circuit Judge. Judges Emerson and Bene- 
 dict and Capt. J. S. Post were then prominent lawyers at the bar 
 of Decatur. Mr. Lincoln occasionally attended the court at De- 
 catur, as he had for years before, and was always a welcome visitor 
 to the court and bar. He had arisen to distinction in our State in 
 1840, when I first heard him in joint debate with Judge Douglas 
 at the court house in Decatur. He was always kind to young law- 
 yers, and perhaps because I was of the same political faith as he, 
 he was uniformly courteous in his treatment of me. It was as 
 much at his suggestion as for any other man that I became a Can- 
 dida's for elector on the Scott ticket in 1852." 
 
 VISITS THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 Judge Emerson having been promoted to the bench, Oglesby 
 formed a partnership with Maj. S. Waite, which continued till 
 1856, when he determined to visit the Old World. During his ab- 
 sence he covered an enormous field of travel, in which were in- 
 cluded Eussia, all Eastern and Central Europe, the Holy Land,
 
 13 
 
 Turkey, Italy, and every point of prominence in Western Europe. 
 This trip to the Old World was a dividing line in his life. 
 
 Xaturally a keen student of men, and quick to appreciate their 
 qualities, he needed a larger area of study than that which had 
 been presented by the limited confines in which he moved. Hia 
 subjects anterior to his trip abroad, had been provincial and com- 
 paratively few in number. In broader fields he grew broader in 
 comprehension; he encountered novel social conditions, and mas- 
 tered their organization and their meaning, as well as their utility. 
 
 The sights of the Old World stimulated a desire for study and 
 the learning to be found in books. He is, in consequence of the trip, 
 more cultured, and is possessed of a wide knowledge of modern and 
 ancient history and the lives of the great men who have influenced 
 its information. 
 
 ON A LECTURING TOUR. 
 
 Soon after coming back he was in great demand for lectures. 
 His lecture was supposed to be "The Holy Land/' and this he has 
 delivered hundreds of times, and always with the greatest success. 
 On one occasion he lectured at Bloomington, 111., Lincoln, Judge 
 Davis and other men of note being present. He was warmly con- 
 gratulated by these distinguished gentlemen, Lincoln remarking: 
 "Dick, I don't know that I have heard anything which pleased me 
 better." The pyramids having been mentioned in the lecture, Lin- 
 coln continued, turning to Judge Davis: "Well, Davis, it does not 
 seem to be so far back to Abraham as it used to be when we were 
 boys. Here we see a young man who has been at the pyramids, and 
 stood on the ground where the Messiah and Abraham stood, and 
 this seems to bring the human family a little closer together. A 
 great work of man, like the pyramids, which I would like to see, 
 seems to me to shorten the distance between the days of the old 
 fathers and those of our own." 
 
 There is another little story concerning the lecture on The Holy 
 Land, which is told by Gen. Grant, and which is not for public 
 inspection in the Governor's stock of anecdotes. Grant tells it 
 thus : "Oglesby was invited to deliver his lecture on The Holy 
 Land in some Illinois town, and, consenting, was greeted with 
 crowded audiences. He opened with the intention of giving a lec- 
 ture of one hour in length, and started off with a little preliminary 
 description of his adventures in Europe. At the end of two and 
 a half hours he had not yet gotten out of Europe, and the audi- 
 ence was so delighted that he had to promise to appear another 
 night, and give The Holy Land lecture. He appeared again, this 
 time to a still larger and more enthusiastic assembly, to whom, as 
 preliminary, he spoke a little of what he saw among the Cossacks 
 of Western Europe, and what he found among the ruins of Poland. 
 He spoke till half-past ten, having commenced at eight, and then 
 had to adojurn without having said a word of the Holy Land.
 
 14 
 
 Still a third appointment was made; the hall was crowded as be- 
 fore, and he commenced his journey by saying a little concerning 
 Egypt, its wonderful antiquities, its pyramids, and its ruins. He 
 became enthusiastic over his subject, and, after awhile, pulled out 
 his watch and turned around to find out the hour. A look of pro- 
 found astonishment came over his face as he glanced at the watch. 
 Turning to a gentleman on the platform, 'Well, here it is eleven 
 o'clock, and I'll be damned if I have got to the Holy Land yet !' ' ; 
 
 A CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS. 
 
 In the spring of 1858, it was considered advisable to place a can- 
 didate before the people in the Decatur Congressional district, and 
 the result was that he was chosen to make the run without there 
 being held a convention. He was first spoken of as an independent 
 candidate, but it was soon ascertained that his opponent, James 
 C. Eobinson, the Democratic nominee, was determined that Ogles- 
 by should be placed squarely upon the platform as a Eepublican 
 candidate. "In our joint debate," said the Governor, "I found 
 that my position as an independent candidate was untenable; be- 
 sides it was not congenial to my feelings. I saw that Mr. Eobinson, 
 with a large majority to begin with, would be likely to increase it, 
 and, without consulting my friends, in our joint debate at Mar- 
 shall, in Clark county, I came out and took strong Eepublican 
 ground; and from that time on it was a rough-and-tumble fight, 
 but good-naturedly conducted to the end of the campaign. Mr. 
 Eobinson was an able debater and a strong man in his party, and 
 I had my hands full to compete with him." 
 
 An incident of this campaign is thus related by the Governor: 
 "On one occasion a meeting was held at Louisville, Clay county, 
 and as Eobinson had the concluding speech, I adjourned to the 
 street in front of the hotel, where I found an Irishman with a 
 violin, and about him were some of his friends. He asked me if 
 I could play. I answered that I thought I could play well enough 
 for a street dance, and taking the fiddle I began playing the 'A.T- 
 kansaw Traveler.' A crowd soon collected; large numbers came 
 out of the court house in which Eobinson was speaking, and soon 
 there was a dance in progress in which everybody took a part. Upon 
 closing his speech, my worthy opponent came out, looked for a mo- 
 ment over the scene, and then, to get even with me, he rushed into 
 the dance, pulled off his coat and commenced dancing with the 
 vim of a dervish. It is my honest opinion that before the dance 
 was over, he had recaptured from me every friend that I had made 
 by my fiddling. The only satisfaction that I got out of the occur- 
 rence was, that I had been able to make the Democratic candidate 
 dance to my music." 
 
 The friends of Eobinson had confidently expected to carry the 
 district by from 4,000 to 5,000 votes; his actual majority was a 
 little over 1,800.
 
 15 
 
 In 1860, in order to aid in the election of Judge Trumbull to 
 the United States Senate, Oglesby consented to run for the State 
 Senate from the Bloomington district, which had heretofore been 
 Democratic by a majority of 1,200. He consented; his opponent, 
 Col. Coler, was a strong and popular man ; there were joint debates 
 and a vast amount of excitement, with the result that Oglesby 
 was elected by a majority of 240 votes. 
 
 LINCOLN'S ADVICE. 
 
 The Governor relates the following in regard to Lincoln : 
 "In 1840, when I was 16 years of age, I attended a log-cabin con- 
 vention at Springfield, and heard Mr. Lincoln speak. He after- 
 wards held a joint debate with Judge Douglas, in Decatur, where 
 1 heard him, and was introduced to him in company with some 
 other young boys. I was greatly fascinated with the simplicity of 
 his character, his droll anecdotes, and fund of sayings, but above 
 and beyond all these I was attracted to him by the charming man- 
 ner in which he discussed politics on the stump. He was long and 
 ungraceful in his usual movements, but in the midst of debate, 
 and when earnestly engaged, there was a glow on his face, a sub- 
 lime air in his manner, and a lofty tone, which elevated not only 
 the argument, but lifted upon and encouraged everyone who lis- 
 tened to him. Whilst I cannot say he was partial to any one in 
 his intercourse with men, he was uniformly courteous, mild and 
 polite towards all. He did not seem to seek favor by personal elec- 
 tioneering, but he never turned coldly or formally from any man. 
 All whom he knew he addressed by their given name, and those to 
 whom he was introduced, he met equally kindly. As I grew into 
 manhood and observed his methods, I soon learned, as everybody 
 else did, to look upon him as a great and thoughtful man, capable 
 of great actions and true devotion to any cause he might espouse. 
 "I instinctively followed him through the dying days of Whig- 
 gery and into Republicanism, and was often encouraged by him 
 to go manfully forward in the struggle of life. Once in the course 
 of a conversation, I do not remember where, I recall distinctly his 
 saying: 'Dick, remember to keep close to the people; they are al- 
 ways right, and will never mislead any one!' ' 
 
 IN THE WAR AGAINST THE SLAVEHOLDERS. 
 
 The war career of the Governor was one which extended over a 
 good deal of time, included several battles, and was rewarded by 
 promotion of almost unprecedented rapidity. He' was made Col- 
 onel of the Eighth Illinois Volunteers. He was in command for a 
 time in Cairo and at Bird's Point, in Missouri; he participated in 
 the affair at Fort Henry and the battle of Fort Donelson, and he 
 was so severely wounded in the second battle of Corinth, that the 
 physicians announced that he could not recover. He was promoted
 
 16 
 
 to a Brigadier-Generalship after the battle of Donelson. His 
 wound so interferred with his movements in the field, that he was 
 forced finally to leave the active service. He presided over the 
 general court martial, held in Washington, by which Surgeon-Gen- 
 eral Hammond was tried, and finally was permitted by Stanton to 
 resign, in order to permit him to accept the nomination for Gov- 
 ernor, which had been tendered him by the Republicans of Illinois, 
 but it was only after the nomination had actually been made, that 
 the resignation was accepted by the exacting Secretary of War. 
 The nomination was made in May, 1864, and in the following au- 
 tumn he was elected by a majority of some 30,000 votes. 
 
 He was very active during this period in carrying out war meas- 
 ures, and at the close of the war he visited the troops in the field, 
 and after a long tour reached Washington the afternoon of the 
 14th of April, just in time to be there at the consummation of the 
 work of the assassin Booth. He stayed with the President during 
 the night of his death, and accompanied the remains on the long 
 tour made by the funeral cortege on its way to Springfield. 
 
 In 1872, he was again elected Governor, this time by 40,000 ma- 
 jority, and within a short time after the assembling of the Legisla- 
 ture, he was elected to the United States Senate. He filled the 
 position to the close of the term, when he retired to the private 
 life which he now enjoys. 
 
 THE HOME OF THE EX-GOVERNOR. 
 
 The pilgrim sat in a high-backed rustic chair in the cosy library, 
 and half-dreamingly and half-wonderingly reviewed the princi- 
 pal events in the career of this latter-day jEschines, who had, like 
 his ancient antetype, been clerk, actor, and soldier; whose "earnest 
 zeal and honesty won him great laurels, both in the field and the 
 forum/ 7 
 
 It is a library resembling its owner, plain, comfortable, without 
 the smallest suggestion of ostentation or display. His holsters 
 hang on the wall, and recall the charge at Donelson and the hot 
 conflict at Corinth. The chairs are broad and capacious, placed on 
 rockers, all indicative of ease and comfort. The pilgrim glances 
 over the bookcases and finds them containing muttum in parvo. 
 They are not the books of a specialist, but of one who seeks for 
 information in all departments. There is a little of China, some- 
 thing of Zoroaster, a touch of the ancient, a suggestion of social 
 philosophy, and a scattering of the contemporary. Some history, 
 c. modicum of biography, many speeches, and a sparcity of romance. 
 Plutarch has a place ; so have Goethe, Pepy, Taine, Bacon, Gibbon, 
 Hume, Thiers, Bancroft, Irving. 
 
 "What is your favorite author?" asked the visitor. 
 
 "I have none. I am just now reading 'William the Silent/ from 
 the public library, and some theological works. I have never been 
 a great reader. Here, how do you pronounce the name of that
 
 17 
 
 author?" at the same time reaching out a small volume in gorgeous 
 cloth binding, and entitled "Physics and Politics." 
 
 The pilgrim ventured a statement as to the pronunciation of 
 Mr. Bagehot's name. 
 
 "Did you ever read it?" he asked. 
 
 Affirmative response. 
 
 "Did you understand it?" 
 
 "Not perfectly perhaps, but " 
 
 "Well, I can't!" and he threw down the crimson-clad volume 
 with a quick motion, indicative of vexation and contempt. "The 
 fact is," he resumed a moment later, "I have never been what is 
 called a great reader; nor do I believe that great reading is al- 
 ways of value. The difficulty with the masses of Americans is that 
 we don't go deep enough into learning. We are skimmers ; we are 
 never permanent. We never stick to one thing because we always 
 think we can better ourselves by doing something else. This is 
 true of our reading; we skim that. In short, we never master 
 anything we skim it ! we skim it !" A little later, as if dwelling 
 upon his remark that he had never been a great reader, he added : 
 "It is true I haven't great learning, but I would not exchange my 
 knowledge of men for the learning of any man either living or 
 dead!" 
 
 The library is the focus of the voices of the house. There come 
 to it the babble and the laughter of the children and the notes of 
 a piano. Occasionally there is an irruption of romping elves, who 
 clamber over "papa," and anon scamper away. All the tones which 
 reach the library are softened; they become rhvthmic, mellow and 
 free from irritation. The house is a child's elysium. Everywhere 
 there are pictures of baby faces smiling from bracket and mantel; 
 over the fire-place in the library is an engraving of the adoration of 
 the babe by angels. 
 
 Now and then there comes into the library a stately woman. 
 She is in accord with the quiet harmonies of the house. She speaks 
 in a voice that is ever "soft, gentle and low, an excellent thing in 
 woman." She has an intelligent, sympathetic face, is artistic in 
 her suggestions, self-poised, matronly, yet young, and radiates from 
 her quiet beauty a charm which influences all within its reach. 
 Such is the admirable wife of the host of the library. It is a 
 most charming family, complete, rounded, harmonious in all its 
 parts, from the strong, virile head, to the gentle, sympathetic 
 mother and the fair-faced, rollicking children. 
 
 A fond father and an excellent family man is the Governor. It 
 is said by those who know him, that it is not an uncommon thing 
 in the summer time to see him lying supine on the grass reading his 
 paper, while a bevy of children swarms over him in the highest 
 of glee. As the pilgrim writes, in the library he often hears the 
 Governor, baby in arms, dancing over the floor of an adjacent 
 room, chanting baby-talk in a species of monotone such as is ex- 
 pected to thrill the soul of a crowing infant. An accommodating
 
 18 
 
 man, too, is the Governor. He leaves the room, and the pilgrim 
 monopolizes the green-baize table with his scribbling. A half-hour 
 later he glances into the conservatory and there sees the Governor, 
 bent into a painful angle, leaning over a miniature stand whose 
 top reaches about to the level of his knees, and engaged in getting 
 off his morning mail. 
 
 As a host the Governor has no superior. He presides easily at 
 his table, has an eye on the wants of his guests, converses fluently 
 and gracefully on most topics. He is a conversationalist who 
 feels; his subject often inspires him, and he not infrequently drops 
 knife and fork, and, with characteristic gestures, blazing eyes, and 
 voice inflated with sympathy, launches some burning remarks, 
 everyone of which is forcible, apposite, and effective. 
 
 A curious thing about him is the extent of his information. 
 It is not broad and comprehensive in the direction of authors, but 
 is wonderful as to its eccentricity. Now he has a quotation from 
 Confucius, or something mayhap from Tyndall or Huxley. He 
 was chatting about something which he illustrated by a quotation 
 from the New Testament: 
 
 "Let's see/' said he, musingly "where's that from?" 
 
 "Hum hum/' responded the pilgrim doubtfully, "that's some- 
 thing from Paul to Tim " 
 
 "No it isn't ! That's from the fifth chapter of Matthew and the 
 thirty-fourth verse. See ! here it is !" as he fished out a well-used 
 bible and pointed out the chapter and verse precisely as he had 
 announced it. 
 
 One of the most striking qualities in his comprehensive composi- 
 tion is his power as an orator. Probably in the role of what is 
 somewhat indefinitely known as a "stump-speaker" he has no su- 
 perior on the continent. He seems to at once get himself in sym- 
 pathy with his auditors. He is electric, moving, full of a penetrat- 
 ing enthusiasm which communicates itself to his listeners, and 
 they thenceforth are swayed under his impetuous eloquence like 
 the waves of the sea by a tempest. 
 
 Some one relates that in 1878 he spoke at a political meeting in 
 Tuscola. Two old men came into the hall, so old, so decrepit, so 
 rheumatic in their ancient bodies, that they could but just crawl. 
 They were rheumy, stiff, deaf and querulous. One came in on 
 crutches, and the other hobbled along painfully, supported by a 
 couple of canes. They secured seats and sat down as if they in- 
 tended to stay there the remainder of their days. Oglesby was at 
 his best. He warmed up gradually until his listeners began to 
 writhe and gasp under the influence of his inspired words. The 
 two old men shared the contagion of his eloquence; they straight- 
 ened up, their dim eyes began to enkindle and their slow pulse to 
 keep time with the outrushing torrent. A few moments more and
 
 19 
 
 the two octogenarians were on their feet with the remainder of the 
 audience, dancing wildly about, swinging their canes and crutches, 
 and yelling in their enthusiasm with a volume and a strength of 
 tone which they had not before known for half a century. For a 
 moment they were young again; for a moment 
 
 Hope enchanted smiled and waived her golden hair. 
 
 It is not long since he spoke to an immense audience in Chicago, 
 which had been called to meet in the armory on the lake, to dis- 
 cuss municipal matters. There were many of the best speakers in 
 the city present, and who in turn addressed the people. Oglesby 
 was called on for a speech, and it was but a little time before he 
 had the great crowd on its feet and hurrahing as if it were mad. 
 
 The speaker himself becomes as excited as his audience. Great 
 rivers of perspiration pour off his brow and adown his cheeks. As 
 an admirer of him said, in speaking of his eloquence, "he melts 
 off his collars and his cuffs." 
 
 "How do you speak?" queried the pilgrim. "What preparation 
 do you make?" 
 
 "I make none. The only speech which I ever wrote was the one 
 which I delivered at the dedication of the Lincoln monument at 
 Springfield. That I read, and it is the exception of my life. How 
 do I speak? I don't know. The other evening I was at the en- 
 campment at Decatur, and was called on for a speech. When I 
 rose to my feet I had not the smallest idea what I should say. I 
 happened to have the ritual in my hand, and unconsciously glanced 
 at the opening line. An idea came, and I followed it up. I spoke 
 for some time, and I judge from the enthusiasm of the audi- 
 ence, that the address was well received. [It was vociferously re- 
 ceived.] And yet, till I was on my feet and happened to glance 
 at the opening line of the ritual, I had not a shadow of a thought 
 ati to what I was to say. What is curious about it is, that the line 
 of thought which I followed was entirely new to me which I had 
 never entertained before." 
 
 "What are the processes of your thoughts under the pressure of 
 a speech?" 
 
 "0, I hardly know. I don't study a subject in advance. When 
 I get on my feet I have an idea, or one presents itself, and I be- 
 gin to bring it out. As I get on a little another comes, like a 
 little side rivulet, and then there comes another and another of 
 these feeders till there is a heavy stream which carries me along, 
 as it were, without effort." 
 
 This is true inspiration. It is spontaneous, instantaneous, with- 
 out preparation, without design. It is that kind of which Shakes- 
 peare speaks: 
 
 Aged ears play truant at his tales, 
 
 And younger hearings are quite ravished; 
 
 So sweet and voluble is his discourse. 
 
 His entire freedom from notes or prepared efforts is well illus- 
 trated by a little incident which is related by a gentleman who is
 
 20 
 
 his secretary. The Governor was invited, during the latter part 
 of the seventies, to deliver an address at the State Fair to be held 
 at Freeport. The time of the notice was very short, and he in- 
 structed his secretary to prepare something which should include 
 the proper amount of statistics. The latter duly collected the re- 
 quired matter and forwarded it to Freeport in a trunk to the Gov- 
 ernor. He delivered a capital address which lasted over an hour, 
 and was exceedinglv well received. 
 
 "How did you like the speech I prepared for you?" asked the 
 secretary on his return, inspired with the hope that he was about to 
 receive a gracious compliment for his effort. 
 
 "What speech ?" asked the astonished Governor. 
 
 He had forgotten all about his instructions to his assistant, and 
 had delivered one of his unpremeditated discourses. 
 
 While he is an orator who particularly appeals to the masses, 
 he has an equal hold on cultivated audiences. He touches all with 
 his splendid oratory and his intense feeling; and is a bettei, clearer 
 thinker when on his feet than on any other occasion. 
 
 Two, at least, of his speeches will pass into history as among the 
 grand oratorical efforts of the age. One of these was when he 
 rose from his bed, to which he was confined from the gun-shot 
 wound at Corinth, to address the people at Springfield, in Febru- 
 ary, 1863, on the state of the country. The other was delivered at 
 the same place, and was a denunciation of Andrew Johnson. It 
 was spoken in the spring of 1866, and at a time when the speaker 
 was Governor of the State. Both excited wide attention, and both 
 exerted a most marked influence in the direction intended, and 
 placed him at once in the ranks of the first orators of the country, 
 and demonstrated his right to be assigned as a peer of sagacious 
 and far-seeing statesmen. 
 
 KEEPING CLOSE TO THE PEOPLE. 
 
 "Dick, remember to keep close to the people; they are always 
 right, and will never mislead any one !" These words of Lincoln 
 are flavored with the political essence of the man who uttered them. 
 They are close akin to his sublime utterance : "This Nation under 
 God shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of 
 the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from 
 the earth." In this direction Oglesby has followed the republican 
 leader. He believes in the people; he "keeps close" to them; he 
 believes that "they are always right," and that they will never 
 "mislead any one." He is their friend, their counselor. His mail 
 ib largely composed of letters from the people ; they ask his advice ; 
 they thank him for what he has done for them ; they delicately ask 
 what they can do for him. 
 
 It is from the people that he gains at once his inspiration and his 
 strength. He is in constant contact with them, and they are a 
 mighty reservoir which supplies him with sympathy, his tender
 
 21 
 
 sensitiveness to suffering, his hatred of all forms of wrong whose 
 purpose is the oppression of the weak. He fought the South, not 
 for office, nor for promotion, nor for fame, but for the sole reason 
 that he believed that a part of the people the 4,000,000 slaves 
 of the South were unjustly deprived of their freedom. He is 
 today the advocate of the people, opposed to monopoly, class oppres- 
 sion, aggressive aristocracy, and aught which has the tendency to 
 abridge the freedom of the masses. 
 
 F. B. WII.KIE.
 
 I 
 
 1