That Nation Might Live: One Afternoon with Lincoln’s Stepmother Read online

  Herein the second page Mattoon Weekly Gazette under the heading, ‘Ol’ Abe Loose’.

  Mr. Lincoln, who seems to have made a temporary escape from the office-seeking host at Springfield, passed through this place last Wednesday evening. He came in on the regular evening train from Chicago, and went on the freight to Charleston. Thinking it none of our business what Mr. Lincoln’s business in Charleston was, we made no inquiries. The large crowd, made up of all political parties, which collected on the platform, was evidently delighted to see him, and he greeted his old friends as cordially as though he was friend Lincoln and not the most noted personage in the civilized world.

  Since writing the above we learned from the papers that Mr. Lincoln was on a visit to his step-mother.

  Col. Augustus H. Chapman, continued:

  “The curtain was closed behind him so Abe could come home to see his Mama. We were ill at the thought he couldn’t attend, with him running the country now. We prayed on it for Granmarm. She begged us off, saying she know’d Abe was too busy for such nonsense as a visit to his foolhead old Mama, but we knew her heart wasn’t in it. She pined to see Abe, fretting over and again how she would not see him again. Of course Abe come back. He know’d in his heart he’d a-been a river boatman with some good fortune, if he ain’t turn out to be bear grub back in Indiana. Instead he come into the arms of Granmarm Lincoln. Abe was powerful grateful to Granmarm, a fact known to all without even a mention of it, though it seemed to me then he just come back to see his Mama off.

  “While we rode along the eight miles from Charleston to Granmarm’s, I saw Andrew Allison on horseback, who was naturally bug-eyed at the sight of my passenger. I ask if he would mind scooting ahead of us to give Granmarm news of her impending visitor. Along the way, Mr. Lincoln spoke of his stepmother in the most affectionate manner; said she had been his best friend in the world, and that no son could love a mother more than he loved her. He also told me of the condition of his family at the time his father married his stepmother, and of the change she made in the family, and of the encouragement he received from her.

  “As Granmarm’s cabin come in to our view Abe spoke of the butterflies gathering in his stomach as he approached her home. Then he mused on the power of unarmed women and spoke of Harriet Beecher Stowe as the woman who made this great war.

  “Uncle Abe thanked me for the ride, and spoke kindly of our time together. Took to himself as we slowed and come right up on Granmarm’s door. I hear him knock some, asking if his Mama had time for some company. She cried all over him.”

  Mrs. Lincoln breathes deeply, as though returning to the state in which I found her. With the determination of one who grunted and gashed her way West, she willed her way forward. She spoke:

  “Was a knock, as Chapman said. Abe, with his joshing, had me tickled afore he was even inside. Well sir, Abe knocked, asking me if I had time for a visitor. Not a second later the door swung open, slow like. I know’d Abe was still funning with me some, and then he poke round the door and reveal himself in the firelight. Lord a-Mighty, he was too skinny! My boy looked like he ain’t slept a minute in a full month, with them charcoal rings around his eyes. But he was handsome as can be in his beard! My rail-thin boy grew a beard to fill out his face, a right fine idea. Abe said a little girl wrote to him and said she reckon Abe’d look smart with a beard. Abe was always one to listen to the loving suggestions of womenfolk. Done him good!

  “I was jumpy as a frog on a frypan right about then, and sure nuff my son was stooping down to the side of my chair, just as I set with you now, Billy. I wasn’t for words yet. All I could do was wrap my arms round his neck and pull my boy in tight. God is loving and kind, steeped strong in tender mercy. I cried with Abe, us’n pulled tight. It was Grace itself that my boy made it back. I wasn’t in no hurry to let go, and Abe wasn’t for being let go, so we set like that, like we were simple, crying and laughing and we ain’t said nary a word yet, neither one of us.”

  Mrs. Lincoln’s lungs require deep expulsions; she is winded now. Rests.

  Col. A.H. Chapman, Continued:

  “Abe was of the highest spirits on his ride to Goosenest Prairie. Recounted his day’s journey from Springfield with great delight, starting with him slipping out his home at dawn of the morning prior, he crossed to the east side of the street, into the shadows of a rising sun. Took great pleasure in the plan to escape town undetected, where the streets were shoulder-to-shoulder with office-seekers trying their darndest to find the same one man. Abe come into the side door of the Great Western Railroad Station, a short distance from his Springfield home at Eighth and Jackson, his collar pulled up he skulked up a stairwell to the Station Superintendent’s Office. An escort, a Mr. Henry Whitney, was inside waiting on him.

  Mrs. Lincoln interjected, “See how Abe had it all figured, Billy?”

  A.H. Chapman, Cont’d:

  “Abe said his mood soured a bit after Whitney read him the news while they waited on the train from the Superintendent’s Office. Texas Secession Convention—a hundred sixty-six in favor and seven against. Abe spoke of President Buchanan’s comment in one article that the states had ‘no right to secede,’ while he professed in another that the federal government had ‘no right to stop states from seceding.’

  “Soon Abe was eager to speak of anything else. Was amused by the faces when he slipped onto the train in Springfield. He said it was as if they seen a ghostly spirit, but once they recovered they were joyous to see their old friend and neighbor. He took the 3:50 Chicago Express, arriving in Mattoon at 5:15. The last eastbound passenger train was not scheduled to leave until 11:35 in the evening. It was then Abe suggested they get on the next freight going east. My first-hand accounts aside, I often tickle myself at the sight of Abe in his plug hat, malnourished, exhausted, mind-a-suffering, setting on a stack of hay aboard a freight train. He may just as well a been a vagrant.”

  Mrs. Lincoln, it is revealed at the hacking sound of her congested laughter, is following the depositioner, A.H. Chapman.

  “The freights were running along the back so Abe stopped short of the platform. As I spoke earlier, he had to walk through ice and snow alongside the tracks. That’s when I seen him first. There were maybe a hundred of us, most wanting to set eyes on a President. Abe weaved in and out through the crowd, greeting folks vigorously. More than once I heard him across the platform, ‘Lord a-Mighty! So glad to see you!’ I took Abe to Sen. Marshall’s fine home on the square, where Abe stayed overnight. At first light I took Abe to the west side of the square, to the home of Dennis Hanks, before we departed for Goosenest Prairie.”

  Mrs. Lincoln requests tea. Tildy is soon to her side, holding the saucer a short distance from the cup embraced with both hands by Mrs. Lincoln. She gulps unabashedly, comfortable in my presence. She returns the cup to the saucer. “My Tildy spiles me with sweet, sweet honey.” Mrs. L. licked her lips, continued:

  “Abe was frightful skinny; that was all I could speak. Was like I was being choked alive, my throat was so tight. It was then he brung out a box for me, which I refused to open, and plagued Abe generally for such nonsense. Truth of it, I was most tickled that my boy has half the world on the chase for him and here he finds time to select a present and bring it to his half-wit Mama. Just him setting beside a me was a gift unfit for a lady fool enough to grow old on the clearing. Was a fur cape in that box. Sinfully beautiful, which was just right for old Sally Bush!

  “Abe and I finally set down, and I look him over while he fire me his yarns. I run my fingers along the lines in his face, trying my best not to make them so long, and so deep. Abe’s hair was always a garden in need a weeding and I done my best to put some order to it. What a man my boy become. I told Abe, ‘I don’t want you to be President.’ He was greatly amused by this, reminding me that not many do. Says thirty-nine percent, if we were counting. Round about that time, Abe asks to see Tommy’s grave. Tildy dispatched Chapman to fetch his buggy and they were off.”

  Mr
s. L. begs my pardon that she may rest her eyes. Her breathing is soon heavy.

  Col. A.H. Chapman, Cont’d:

  “Shiloh Cemetery was a mile to the west. Some say Abe, with his own hands, cut the letters “T” and “L” into a small walnut board and placed it at the head of the grave. I state here, with the authority of the one person present, I witnessed no such action. Abe asked me to find out the probable cost of a tombstone for his father’s grave. He asked me what the expense might be. I answered that it would not be less than forty dollars, nor more than sixty. Abe said to find out and let him know at Washington, and he would send an inscription he wanted put on it. Abe never furnished me with the inscription for Grandfather Lincoln’s headstone, and none was erected on his grave.

  “While Abe and I were at Shiloh, word spread that Granmarm was receiving a visitor, and afore long ministers and rail-splitters, folks from every walk of life, began to appear from nowhere. Mr. Osborne dismissed school so his pupils and their teacher could join the growing crowd outside Tildy’s home. When Abe returned, he greeted all of them, offering each his hand to shake. Tildy put a nice meal on a table that was no more than planks on sawhorses, run from one end of the house to the other.

  “Abe seemed to enjoy it so much that his face was continually lit up with a sunny smile. All were at their ease. Outside, the school children were putting their feet in Abe’s shoes, which he’d left by the door, shining on how they stood in the shoes of a President. After dinner Abe stood beside Granmarm while she sat in her chair, his big hand gently rocking her while he rested an elbow of the other arm on the mantelpiece.”

  Mrs. Lincoln requests Tildy’s assistance. She sits up, with some effort she expectorates. She breathes more freely, wishes to continue:

  “I said to Abe, ‘Here and hereafter, all the things that make us right and worthy must be near you—always. All the good the Savior gave the world was communicated through the Good Book. But for It, we could not know right from wrong.’ I asked him to keep it close.

  “Abe looked me right in my eyes and told me clear, ‘Without the assistance of the Divine Being, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, Mama, I will keep a Bible on my desk always.’ He done it too. Dennis said it was so when he visited Abe in Washington City.

  “I feared the time’d come soon for me to say my goodbyes to Abe. Sure enough, I begun to cry and could not stop for all the Lord’s Mercy. Just then, Abe asked if I’d be his guest for one more night, join him on his trip back to Charleston. Billy, I sobbed like a fool at just the thought of it. Rode with Abe in the buggy back to Charleston. Abe insisted I wear the fur cape he give me, to which I conceded.”

  Mrs. L. requests Tildy pat her back. With effort she expectorates, is disappointed by the volume - breathes heavily. “The ride was over much too quickly,” she added. Requests rest.

  Col. A. H. Chapman took up the story:

  “The crowd overflowed two blocks deep around my house. Once again it seemed all of Charleston knew Abe’s plans. They pushed and shoved to one side or another to allow the carriage through, generally cheering the President-Elect. Abe waved and tipped his plug hat in both directions as we approached the house. Once fully stopped, he stood and again tipped his hat to the joyous assembled. They hushed, thinking Abe might make a speech but he wasn’t for speaking right then, ‘cept to say it would be his great honor to greet each and every one of them, invited folks for a town hall reception.

  “Abe stepped down from the wagon and weaved his way through the backslappers to reach Granmarm Lincoln on the other side of the carriage. He held his arm up to her so she could steady herself. I heard him say to her, ‘I seem to recall you stepping down from a wagon forty-some years ago.’ And Granmarm sassed back how Abe looked a little better this time. Once he had Granmarm seated, Abe worked his way to the stage to dispense with the single item of business before he could rejoin the gathering as their returning and departing neighbor. The President-Elect stood on the third step to the stage, chest-high above the crowd. He told folks he knew they wished to hear from him figuring the outlook for the future. But he reckoned it best not speech on it, wishing rather to take each by the hand.”

  Mrs. Lincoln then interjected, “A few of the bolder women expressed the desire to be able to say they kissed the cheek of the President of the United States. Imagine that, women fancying to kiss my boy. What fool’d a dreamt such a thing?” She continued:

  “I stood close as could be to Abe’s side, listening to the folk recollect Abe as a rail-splitter, or the lawyer who recovered a man’s horse in court, or the time he twice threw a wrestling champ. Each added their yarn to the spool. Strung up all together is a story of a barefooted young man who come along one day driving a pair a oxen across the prairie, and now he was leaving to be President of the United States. I’m about well spent Chapman, iffin you don’t mind picking up your story again.”

  Chapman, Cont’d:

  “Granmarm stood by Abe for as long as she could before requesting to return to our home until Abe was able to join her. Harriet and I gave her our feather bed. Sure enough Granmarn had little ones twisted all round her once she was set down to rest. It was late by the time Abe had given each of the neighbors their time to reminisce.”

  Mrs. Lincoln knows no quit. Her voice fading, I drew closer as she continued:

  “My heart was as big as a steer’s just then. Abe again rearranged some of the young’uns so he could rest his weary head on my shoulder. I done my best to savor each passing minute but I felt sleep come on a time or two, til I heard the first chirps of morning coming to life. The day begun and I wasn’t to give Abe a sack of Johnnycake and bacon to tie up to his axe, and I wasn’t preferring for this yarn or that one while we grinned round the fire. Today was for telling my son goodbye. I was bout as vital as a sack a flour by then. This old lady had done all the pushing she could muster just to keep up, and I was mostly done for. But it was here now.

  “I woke Abe. It was hard on my heart not to let him rest, but I needed my say with him afore someone come a knocking on the door to take my boy off on his business. He asked me for the time as I stir him and my heart flung back to waking him for the fields. Abe was not a boy with a yearning to labor. He use to say plenty how Tommy taught him how to work the fields, but for sure did not teach him how to like it. It brung me back to all them days when Abe would beg me off for more sleep, asking for the time a day so he could make his best case he would git his chores done even if he slept a while some. So then as was now, when I woke Abe he asked for the time a day, and I said like I always done when the game was over, ‘Time to get up, Son.’ This amused Abe, and he sprung up. We had precious time now, without a knock yet on the door.

  “Told Abe right then how I feared his leaving. Said to my boy he would wrestle with lions and walk across serpents. Then we sung, Rock of Ages. Will you sing it with me now, Billy?”

  Mrs. L then reached out her hand to the Writer, who clasped hers in return. Hearing us, Tildy, Dennis, Harriet and Chapman came into the room and added their voices. Mrs. L., still holding Writer’s hand, gathered strength for the final verse:

  While I draw this fleeting breath,When mine eyes shall close in death,When I soar to worlds unknown,See Thee on Thy judgment throne,Rock of Ages, cleft for me,Let me hide myself in Thee.

  Mrs. Lincoln took up the story again:

  “Just then there come a knock on the door and it was time for him to go. Abe beg them off some, steal us a few more minutes. Time was sparse. I told Abe I prepared this blessing for him:

  “May the Lord bid the angels to protect you upon your path. May His face give light to you, show you favor, and bestow upon you wisdom and peace. Lord, act tenderly on my son’s behalf and grant his victory over our trials. Merciful Lord, hear my humble request and pardon my selfish ways that it may be Your will that my eyes behold my boy’s homecoming afore I should see Thee on Thy judgment throne.


  “Just as soon as we said, ‘Amen,’ I couldn’t hold back on it. I told Abe something would befall him and I was plumb afraid I’d never him him again. I know’d it then, that there were people who hated him, who wanted to kill him.

  “Abe tried his best to comfort me. His last words were just then, when my son said, ‘Trust in the Lord and all will be well. And whatever happens, we will see each other again.’

  “All I could muster was to say, ‘God bless and keep you, my good son.’

  “That was it, Billy. Abe plant his foot on the buggy’s sideboard and pull himself up. I seen him turn round for a last look afore the wagon disappeared into a long dark night.”

  Abe know’d my voice,

  straightened up and said,

  ‘Dennis is that you?’

  Then invited me in,

  and asked Mr. Seward

  and the other fellers

  to step out a few minutes.

  10

  Abe Know’d My Voice

  Mrs. L finally surrendered herself to exhaustion - lays in her winter stockings beneath several coverlets as darkness filled the windows of both sides of the sagglebag cabin on Goosenest Prairie. She rests along the edge of her feather bed nearest the fire, sure to have it stoked and fed before she settled in.

  Tildy and Denny Hanks, Denny’s daughter Harriet, and her husband, the previous depositioner, Col. August H. Chapman, and myself divided our small company along the sides of the hearth to allow unobstructed warmth to reach their Granmarm Lincoln.

  I undertook to force the subject of value, the family’s only contact with the President. “Mr. Hanks, I believe you had the honor of visiting Mr. Lincoln at the Executive Mansion in Washington City, did you not?” He looked at me a moment, and laughing heartily, said: “So that’s the yarn you’re after is it?” Chuckling to himself for a moment, he winked his eye at Tildy.