That Nation Might Live: One Afternoon with Lincoln’s Stepmother Page 9

  He notes the fall of a sparrow,

  and numbers the hairs of our heads;

  and He will not forget the dying man,

  who puts his trust in Him.

  Say to Father that if we could meet now,

  it is doubtful

  whether it would not be

  more painful than pleasant.

  7

  More Painful than Pleasant

  “Tommy Lincoln lived to fire his yarns soon after he took in a traveler, as Tommy was inclined for most any but the slave catchers. He send them on their way in the cold and rain with no further talk at all. For all others, we’d feed ‘em up at the table with how-do’s and fun with the news from their other stops. We’d set as we are now and have our yarns. Soon as Tommy would find himself his moment, the slightest quiet, I figure to hear these words, ‘It wasn’t much long after General George sent his boys home that my Pa lit out west for Kaintuck to claim the land given to him in return for his service.’ Tommy’d let that set a minute afore he’d follow with, ‘Wasn’t much longer after that when my Pa was shot dead in his field and this here skull of mine was an arm’s distance from a screaming mad Injin and his tomahawk.’”

  “I seen it for all types, Tommy have the most weary traveler this wilderness can produce, soon find himself drawing closer, eager for Tommy’s next words. After the rightful pause he was off now, sure as sunrise. Got plenty a travelers that final stretch the Lincolns were in Kaintuck, living on the old Cumberland Road. A regular frontier parade of soldiers and peddlers, slaves and slavers too, come long the Lincoln farm between bigger places like Nashville and Louisville. Not as much crowd on the clearing. Once Tommy fire this yarn at the new neighbors he generally went hungry for someone new.

  “Tommy said his Pa was a faithful Quaker, believe in the goodness a man. Tommy’s Pa’s name was Abraham Lincoln. No wonder then that his grandson and namesake may got some a his blood in his veins! My days are full a driving away tearing thoughts how they were both killed for it.

  “Tommy take a full breath in now as he fire away with his yarn , how them Lincolns were out in the clearing with the oxen hauling logs down to the crick. Tommy went along, but he wasn’t much help, for he was only six. Young as he was, he certainly remember what happened that day like it was only yesterday. He said it come like a bolt out of the blue. He seen his father drop like he was shot. Tommy was fond to stretch some here til he said, ‘For he was shot!’ Folks were leaned in fully by now while Tommy was glowing like embers. Said next how he heard the crackle of a rifle and saw a puff of smoke floating out of the bushes. It was then he heard his oldest brother Mord gasp, ‘Injins!’ and make quick for the house to get his gun. Josiah, another a Tommy’s brothers, he starts off in the opposite direction to the Beargrass Fort. Tommy would add for certain right about this portion, ‘Us Lincoln boys scattered like a brood of young turkeys, striking for cover when the oldest one is shot.’

  “Then come the part of his yarn Tommy seem to savor the most. As he said, he know’d he should run as he seen his older brothers striking for cover, but stood aside his Pa as he was shot, and he kneeled aside him. His heart was such, he could not leave him. While he was crouched there, staring like the oxen not knowing what to do, a big Injin come out of the brush with a gleaming knife in his hand. Tommy know’d what he was going to do, scalp the father that lay shot aside him! Tommy, all of six, braced up to the Injin to keep him away. That Injin just laughed, admire the boy’s spirit some, I reckon, and pick him up like he was baby. Set him down on a sawlog. At last, he could commence his scalping.

  “About now I’m afeared the weary traveler may never sleep again with what Tommy done for them with his yarn. He keep on then how there was another crack of a rifle and just like that the big Injin drops, and Tommy show em just how he wiggled and squirmed round afore he bit the dust. Iffin his crowd was big enough, Tommy would sound off the blood-curdling yells that come from the lot of Injins who jump out of the bushes brandishing their tomahawks and scalping knives. Tommy finally run for the house with them Injins after him. Just as one close on him with his tomahawk raised to brain little Tommy, “Crack!” Mord fetches him down. That repeat itself three more times as Tommy show on his neck just where he could feel the breath of the next yelping Injin, up till he flung himself through the doorway of the Lincoln cabin and they lock up fast behind!

  “Troubles were far from concluded. Mord could cover the front of the house with his rifle but the backside had no opening. Sure enough some of them Injins sneaked around behind the house and it wasn’t long till Tommy could smell smoke. He said his Mama took his hand, and grabbed the hands of his weeping sisters, and command them all to sing, “Rock of Ages.” So they begun when Josiah comes back with a posse of Soldier from Beargrass. Them Injuns were run off, drove off the livestock as they went, but the Lincolns I reckon were happy not to be cooking just then.’ Tommy Lincoln was sure to be beaming like noonday sun right then.”

  Mrs. Lincoln rested her eyes until a lad of perhaps five years, one of Mrs. Lincoln’s great-grandchildren, I presume, entered the cabin as the waning sun stretched shadows across the emerald green rag rug. His stated purpose was to request his Granmarm join him on the footpath, as the children had prepared something special. Colonel Chapman offered the old lady his arm but she reached out to the Writer. She grasped my arm with surprising strength, nearly supporting me, contrary to the original proposition. Mrs. L. seemed delighted with the surprise and eager to see it revealed. Thus supported, we walked slowly out. Colonel Chapman followed with her rocking chair, which he held for her at the head of the path. In the yard a dozen boys and girls of various ages stood in a double line, facing each other. As Sarah settled in her chair, the children began clapping hands and the tallest of the boys called out the steps. It was a rousing display. When it was done, Sarah laughed and applauded and beckoned the children to come to her.

  “Now, you all go on help your Mama’s,” she instructed them. “Git the vittels ready. If vittels is set, well then help somewheres else. Be good chillern for your Mamas. Now git!” She playfully sent them off again, before settling back into her chair, in no hurry to resume.

  “Praire sunset.” Mrs. Lincoln took time now to gather herself. “The day begs its peace.” After more time still she added, “This life is cumbersome, Billy. I was plenty sure the Good Lord still had purpose for this old bag a bones from the clearing.” Borrowing from her husband’s love of yarn, she added after a considered pause, “Maybe just enough to kill me.”

  Mrs. Lincoln rocked back and forth for a several minutes, eyes alert, fixed on the horizon. She resumed:

  “Abe’s wedding stir trouble with a long spoon. Tommy took it sour Abe didn’t have us Lincolns invited. Whip up all the Grigsby troubles again, only this time it was Abe who done it. Chillern were no help neither, the way they went to stoking Tommy’s fire. Was a preferred topic. Can’t say as I wouldn’t a made more noise than a loose mule in a tin barn had I been asked. Abe know’d best, and that was always enough for a blame fool such as me. Them gowns must a been something, Billy.”

  Here I explained Mr. L’s wedding was thrown together with haste. It was a small crowd of thirty guests, if that, married in the dining room of a friend’s home. The best man was informed of his honor on the very day of the wedding. Mrs. L. amused by this, and greatly comforted. She continued:

  “Abe was prone to say, ‘Sorrow come to us all.’ Abe and Mary done their suffering. Their little boy Eddie was buried when he was but four years old. Mary was a tender soul. I know’d burying her babe wrung her dry. There come a stretch when it seem those of us that were left still standing were wrung dry as well. ‘Chickens today, feathers tomorrow’. That’s what my Mama was fond of saying. And so it was that Squire pass suddenly, leaving Tildy a widow with eight mouths to feed. My sweet Betsy was finally taken into Loving Arms after years of suffering. Then come Tommy to fall ill. I didn’t see for him rising from the bed again neither but dog me i
f I do, Billy! Tommy Lincoln never was one to pick a fight with, and he come back! My guess is a passel of screaming chillern chase him right out of his bed.

  “Next come John D.’s wife. Mary was daylong kin with me, being nearby as she was. Me and Mary were bonded for all time as we both fall for the same special kind a bushy haired, princely Johnston boy. Finely dressed kind, good for dancing, and devil’s bait for sparking. Not men for much else. I done my best to look after Mary as she begun to see the jail her life become with my Johnny, just as I seen years afore for myself with Johnny’s Pa. Mary and me done our share a yelping and thrashing on it afore we seen we were stuck. Ventually tuckered ourselves out and just done our best tending to our little seeds. She was one of mine now.

  “For a time Johnny, Mary, Tildy and me, we done our best while Denny was in Charleston cobbling and tinkering to keep up for Betsy’s chillern. Tommy was mostly done for working, setting a date on when that day come was sure fire to be a lively scrap! We had plenty of hard scrabbling to git a living. From dawn to dusk and then by candlelight, seem I was all feed, spin, seed, water, weave, sew, and soap. Always soaping something, kittles and pans, chillern, floor.

  “I can see now just like it was yesterday when Mary showed me the palm of her hand. Both of us seen it right then for bad sick, her thumb lay flat like. Wasn’t no way a knowing it was just the beginning. Mary just begun to wither away, like the Good Lord reached inside and begun pulling her out. She went to fewer than bones, couldn’t hardly move, and then she couldn’t move a’tall. I think on it, Billy, how a woman who couldn’t move a muscle was the strongest I ever seen. Course Johnny plagueing her at first, as he was having to move himself more than he care to, and the chillern couldn’t a known any better, and Mary just grin her way on and on best she could, till the day come. Mary is in heaven I have no doubt. Then as now, I was still very much of this earth, and I was a Mama again for more chillern still, just as it once was, ‘ceptin for the gray and brittle hair beneath my bonnet.

  “John D. was off like a bunny for a child bride. Seem like poor Mary hardly been laid to rest when Johnny lit out for Missouri to see the newest land of milk and honey. Reckon he suit himself soon as he come upon a parcel so fine there’d be no need to plow it, then gone on to seed and harvest itself. Tildy and me took on his chillern, on loan, John D. promising to return. That was the last promise John D. broke, as he up and died. Tildy and I were more sisters like, though she still find her way to her Mama’s shoulder, tearing up like she did when she was a young’un, all torn up over a corncob doll. Now her problems were real—men and money.

  “Them twenty-three chillern were generally walking with their chin high like that Liztown sparker by name of Sally Bush. Ages somewheres betwixt young enough for young trouble and old enough for old trouble. It was too much for Tommy, he took ill, sure he was fixin’ to pass. Col. Chapman’s wife, Harriett, got the news to Abe right quick that Tommy was wishing to see him. Few days later she got a letter from Abe saying that iffin it’s his Pa’s time, our Maker is a merciful one, and notes when one sparrow falls and knows even the hairs on our head, and would surely recognize a dying man who put trust in Him. He said more still, wound Tommy something fierce, said things might be more painful than pleasant were they to see each other.

  “He leave Tommy to die like that and could not attend his funeral. If ever I was tested by Abe it was then. Lord a-Mighty, I ached every way I found I could, and come up with a few new ones that day we lay Tommy to rest without Abe present. My only comfort, Billy, was Tommy finally released the grip between them. Tommy Lincoln was reunited with the Pa he searched the world over for, the man he name his boy after, and the man who didn’t live to school his son what a Pa done.

  “Would a meant a hoot to Tommy if he’d lived to know Abe name his next boy Thomas. Abe seen it after all, after my Tommy was in the ground. Abe finally seen his Pa for his goodness. Reckon kinfolks counted for more in early days. I’m just tired everybody runs Grandfather Lincoln down. Tommy would a got something ahead if he hadn’t been so generous. He had the old Virginia notion of hospitality, liked to see people sit up to the table and eat hearty, and there were always a plenty of relations willing to pull up a chair! Abe got his honesty from Tommy, and his clean notions of living and his kind heart and high morals. Jabbers may jab Tommy was shiftless iffin they please, don’t change what I know’d, Tommy was kind and loving, and kept his word, and always paid his way, and never turned a dog from his door. You couldn’t say that of every man, not even today, when men are decenter than they used to be.

  “I know Tommy seen it in Heaven, Abe naming his boy Thomas after him. Would a been fine had he been setting right where you are, Billy, upon hearing word Abe named his boy after him. Them two were a pair, Tommy and Abe, yearning for Nancy still. She’d had them bound together as I could not.” Here Mrs. L. weeps.

  “Folks everyday strife, plentiful as it was, reach the Good Lord who was plumb distracted. The troubles were here now, the first jolts come when Stephen Douglas pass Kansas-Nebraska and soon enough John Brown was decapitating slavers in Bleeding Kansas. There wasn’t no room for worse—worse was now, so we fools figured back then. I seen so much heartache, Billy, it’s a wonder why I seem chosen to survive it. Mostly nothing left to be wrung out no more, so I enjoy them chillern and their sunset prancing. The comfort of a kitchen, and seeing them little ones in your shadow with their big eyes and big questions, knowing their times ahead afore they do, knowing just how much aggravation they were in for. This, Billy, is where my hours are best as can be since...”

  By the manner in which Mrs. L. trailed off, there was no purpose in vocalizing the completion of her thought; it was well known to the Writer. She did, even so, “The best as can be after Abe was gone.” She continued:

  “Just as I expect my heart to burst open for all to fret, certain as a soul can be that I couldn’t take no more, it was gonna be war now. My kin in Kaintuck were gonna kill my Indianny and Illinois kin, who were gonna kill em back! Madness all around!

  “Here now The Almighty made His way on His errand to the gawkiest boy who ever obstructed my view. The Lord said to Abraham, ‘I will make you into a great nation.’

  “Abe know’d it from all them nights back, reading aloud by the fire light as he did from Matthew, Mark, and Luke, saying many a time that a house divided against itself can’t stand. The time had come to settle it.”

  Mr. Lincoln asks you to elect him

  to The United States Senate today

  solely because he can slander me.

  Has he given any other reason?

  Has he avowed

  what he was desirous to do in Congress

  on any one question?

  He desires to ride into office

  not upon his own merits,

  not upon the merits

  and soundness of his principles,

  but upon his success

  in fastening a stale slander upon me.

  8

  He Desires To Ride Into Office

  Twilight deepened. The first night wind passed right through Mrs. Lincoln, “put a chill on my gizzards,” the dear lady maintained, wishes to return to the cabin. Colonel Chapman helped her rise. Writer offered his arm, which seemed to please her. Tildy greeted us as we reentered the cabin home, warmed her Mama’s face with her hands, and pulled Mrs. L.’s shawl up over her shoulders, ruffling the excess snugly around her neck. Wrapping her arms around her Mama’s torso, Tildy lowered Mrs. Lincoln slowly into her rocking chair, a scant few feet in front of the glowing hearth. Mrs. L. looked off with a vacancy I had not seen since early in my visit, her vitality following the setting sun.

  Before I could concern myself with probabilities our afternoon together would conclude before her story’s end, Mrs. L. stirs, as though acknowledging there was more work to be done, likely not her first doze upended by such thoughts. She resumed:

  “Abe done a lot of traveling court back then, running around the coun
tryside settling up for folks. Nothing to do with the evening but to set around the tavern stove firing yarns. Nobody could beat Abe at it. He would just slap his hands on his knees and jump up and turn around and then set down, laughing fit to kill when someone fire a good yarn at his ear. Abe said Old Judge Davis was the boss of the lot, and the Judge wasn’t one for starting up on their sessions til Abe come along, as he’d say to anyone who was for listening, ‘Where’s Abe?’ Course, the Judge might say it like, ‘Where’s Lincoln?’ and somebody would go and fetch my boy, Lincoln.

  “I saw Abe every year or two, when his lawyering brung him to Charleston. We would set by the hearth by the hour while he fire his yarns and let me ask him all the questions I could think of bout his boys and Mrs. Lincoln. I’d set my hand on his, never once looking away from his face. My son look a man a real honor and distinction. My heart ache with pride to hear him speak on his times, riding the circuit along with some right smart lawyers. Abe said he know’d Stephen Douglas from the sessions they have while passing the hours set around them tavern stoves. Abe said he was hell-fire bent to lock horns with the man someday.

  “I’m not much for poly’tics myself, Billy. I know’d Abe’s heart. If Abe say it, then that’s how it was for me. Rest of them round the square in Charleston, they were running out of words. Fists begun to clench and Lord a-Mighty—the thunder turn to storm. Folks were scared a what come next. Abe and Little Doug finally face off on it when they run for Senate.

  “Abe make his point by likening slavery to a poison snake that come crawling along the road. Abe said we musn’t kill it straight off, iffin it keep to its business. If that poison snake was in the bed of a neighbor’s chillern, then it be for him to figure it out. The fight come when the neighbor try to put the snake in our chillern’s beds. Abe said he was wishing to discuss it with Little Doug, but the big bug was too afraid to face the facts. When Little Doug refuse to debate Abe, all them newspapers come out fitting him into a coward’s suit. It got the best of him, and so they begun meeting all over Illinois. Day before they come into Charleston, Chapman come with his buggy for me. Said there wasn’t gonna be time for Abe to come see me here, so I was to stay the night with Harriet, off the city square.