APPENDIX
CAPT. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
APPENDIX NO. 1.
Abraham Lincoln in the Black Hawk War.
Little consideration should be given to the great majority of stories told of Mr. Lincoln’s service in the Black Hawk War. If one were to believe them all, one would find every man in the army to have wrestled and vanquished him or otherwise participated in some undignified frolic wherein he was made to appear ludicrously delightful. While the age was one of jest and joust, and Mr. Lincoln was apt at both, yet his career as captain in that war was temperate and dignified.
In 1832 all of his young companions were strenuous, as were all the young men of Illinois–itself young and vigorous. They bubbled over with buoyant animal spirits and paid little heed to formalities. It was especially an era of independence; discipline being regarded an evidence of femininity, and formality a certain indication of snobbishness. In the towns of (then) importance–more mature, perhaps–that spirit might have been modified; but the times were essentially of the open air order.
An atmosphere of politics likewise pervaded and the majority of candidates affected that spirit of contempt for the little amenities of life and comfort. When, therefore, those young spirits did not like a command, the first impulse was not to obey it, and in point of fact very few commands were obeyed, at least to the letter.[285] To attempt enforcement generally meant disaster, whether the officer was General or Second Lieutenant. Some scheme was usually found to counteract the order, if at all distasteful to the volunteers.
While Mr. Lincoln was as stalwart as his generation, he was self-possessed and handled his headstrong company with consummate skill and was thoroughly beloved by his men. His known honesty, fearlessness and prowess and willingness to back the same made it possible to control his men, and from the most unmanageable in the army they became at his request tractable. These characteristics then made him a leader where others failed by swagger and vulgarity.
On the march and in camp stories were told; but Mr. Lincoln’s stories were not ribald recitals, told only to express a vicious conclusion. They were droll, quaint, homely perhaps, but full of humor; new and invariably to the point.
When men congregate it is natural to seek entertainment; the best adapted to surroundings, story-telling always finding the most favor, consequently the best story-tellers were soon discovered and courted. Thus in the camps in Beardstown and Rushville and on the march to Yellow Banks, the genius of Mr. Lincoln was discovered and quickly popularized.
At each resting-place diversion was sought in wrestling matches, horse racing, foot racing and other kindred sports, and quickly enough came Mr. Lincoln’s reputation as a champion in the manly sports of the day, notably wrestling, which then, as now in new and small villages, was made to measure a man’s standing. No one was above a “match.” If he was, his presence in that locality soon became a reminiscence. Add, then, the two accomplishments of Captain Lincoln, and no imagination is required to account for his tremendous popularity in the army.
At New Salem Mr. Lincoln adapted himself to his surroundings by accepting the first challenge for a match that Mr. Offutt unwittingly caused to be sent him by John Armstrong, and notwithstanding the threatened interference by the “Clary’s Grove Boys,” he asserted his strength and bravery to such advantage that he became from that hour a respected leader, and the following year that same Armstrong became his First Sergeant, while William and Royal Clary became privates in his company. During the annual muster in the fall of 1831 those same influences elected him captain of the militia.
Being “out of a job” in the spring of 1832, the Black Hawk war offered him employment which was at once accepted. On April 21st sixty-eight men volunteered[286] to serve the state from “Richland, Sangamon County,” and at the election which followed for captain Mr. Lincoln was chosen by more than three-fourths of the men. Another, one William Kirkpatrick, aspired to the same position. He was pretentious, assumed a prominence in the neighborhood, questioned at times, but never severely challenged, and when he announced a desire for the office, he expected to get it. The two candidates were placed a short distance away and the men were requested to fall in behind the man they preferred for their captain. The proceeding was simple, brief and overwhelmingly in favor of Mr. Lincoln, and he was hilariously declared elected. Enrolling his company for sixty days’ service, he marched at its head to Beardstown to be mustered in.
MUSTER ROLL OF CAPT. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
MUSTER ROLL OF CAPT. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Captain Lincoln owned no horse and to make that march he was forced to borrow, a not very difficult matter in those days; but on that borrowed horse, at the head of his men, he marched into Beardstown, “forty miles from the place of enrollment,” the proudest man in the state. On April 28th the company was mustered into the service of the state of Illinois by Col. John J. Hardin, Inspector-General of the state and Mustering Officer. Two muster rolls were made out, one by Colonel Hardin and one by Captain Lincoln, both of which are in existence and one reproduced herein.
At Beardstown Captain Lincoln’s company was assigned to the Fourth Regiment, of which his First Lieutenant, Samuel M. Thompson, was elected Colonel April 30th, and William Kirkpatrick, late candidate for captain, was made Quartermaster’s Sergeant, both quoted as coming from “Richland Creek.”
On the 30th the last of the army, including Captain Lincoln’s company, left Beardstown and encamped four miles north of Rushville. On Tuesday, May 1st, the march for Yellow Banks, seventy or seventy-five miles distant, was resumed and about twenty-five miles covered, the army camping at a point on Crooked Creek in McDonough County. On Wednesday, the 2d, another distance was made and the army encamped in a large prairie, two miles from timber or water. The night was cold and tempestuous.
At about 12 o’clock of Thursday, the 3d, the Henderson River was reached and crossed, and before night the Yellow Banks in Warren County was reached, where the army again encamped.[287] There, by reason of delay in the arrival of the boat with provisions, the army was compelled to remain the 4th, 5th and 6th, on which last-named day the provisions arrived. On the morning of the 7th the army moved for the mouth of Rock River, reaching that point about nightfall.
About Beardstown Captain Lincoln absorbed all the information to be found concerning tactics and imparted the same to his company to the best of his ability by frequent drills, stories of which have caused many a hearty laugh. The best version of one of those celebrated drills has been told by Ben. Perley Poore and is to be found on page 218 of “Reminiscences of Abraham Lincoln”: “I remember his narrating his first experience in drilling his company. He was marching with a front of over twenty men across a field when he desired to pass through a gateway into the next enclosure.
“‘I could not for the life of me,’ said he, ‘remember the proper word of command for getting my company endwise so that it could get through the gate, so as we came near the gate I shouted: “This company is dismissed for two minutes, when it will fall in again on the other side of the gate!”’” The story was told to picture the position of someone in debate who could find no tactful way out of a dilemma he had worked himself into. But Captain Lincoln was proud of his company and expressed his pride on many occasions. Leonard Swett obtained the story of that company direct from the lips of the captain and it is to be found in the book last quoted, on page 465: “Together with the talk of organizing a company in New Salem began the talk of making Lincoln captain of it. His characteristics as an athlete had made something of a hero of him. Turning to me with a smile at the time, he said: ‘I cannot tell you how much the idea of being the captain of that company pleased me.’
“But when the day of organization arrived a man who had been captain of a real company arrived in uniform and assumed the organization of the company. The mode of it was as follows: A line of two was formed by the company, with the parties who intended to be candidates for officers standing in front. The candidate then made a speech to the men, telling them what a gallant man he was, in what wars he had fought, bled and died, and how he was ready again, for the glory of his country, to lead them; then another candidate, and when the speech-making was ended they commanded those who would vote for this man, or that, to form in line behind their favorite. Thus there were one, two or three lines behind the different candidates, and then they counted back, and the fellow who had the longest tail to his kite was the real captain. It was a good way. There was no chance for ballot-box stuffing or a false count.
“When the real captain with his regimentals came and assumed the control, Lincoln’s heart failed him. He formed in the line with the boys, and after the speech was made they began to form behind the old captain; but the boys seized Lincoln and pushed him out of the line and began to form behind him, and cried, ‘Form behind Abe,’ and in a moment of irresolution he marched ahead, and when they counted back he had two more[288] than the other captain.”
The lawlessness of the troops in camp and on the march caused Governor Reynolds much annoyance and chagrin. When Major Long’s battalion was ordered down the river the troops were especially charged not to fire their guns aboard the boat, a charge unnecessary with most men. So prevalent had that amusement become that the celebrated order of April 30th was issued just as the little army was taking up its march for the Yellow Banks. At the Henderson River a crossing was effected only after great labor and more inconvenience in the way of wet clothing, and probably to celebrate so successful an event the firing was resumed, this time by Captain Lincoln himself, which promptly brought upon his head his first disgrace by being reprimanded and, as is generally conceded, by being compelled to wear a wooden sword. That punishment was accepted in good spirit, but no more firing was charged to his account during the campaign; in fact, it made him more punctilious and watchful and more insistent with his men. When off duty, however, he allowed himself and his men the harmless diversions of camp life without restraint.
JOHN CALHOUN.
WILLIAM POINTER.
ORDER OF APRIL 30, FORBIDDING THE FIRING OF ARMS.
REV. PETER CARTWRIGHT.
WILLIAM H. LEE.
Captain Lincoln was magnetic and his men were drawn toward him from admiration, and not alone because they knew he was a man of courage and strength. That magnetism drew not only his immediate acquaintances at New Salem, but his superior officers, and as he advanced in life, it drew about him the men of influence and power who later made a new and powerful political party. It attracted John T. Stuart to invite him to his office to read law; it attracted the voters of his district to beat Peter Cartwright, then the best-known man in Illinois probably, for the legislature. That discipline kept Captain Lincoln vigilant until the mouth of Rock River was reached, and even the affair there was not one of commission.
During the night of May 9th one Royal P. Green, of the company of Capt. Thomas McDow of Greene county, entered the officers’ quarters and, with the assistance of a tomahawk, four buckets and some of Lincoln’s command, secured enough liquor to enjoy a comfortable lark and place a large number of Captain Lincoln’s men hors de combat. On the morning of the 10th, the date fixed to begin the march up Rock River, few were able to answer the roll call and few indeed were able to take up the march for the Prophet’s town. For this offense, which had been committed without the knowledge of the Captain, and to his great surprise and mortification, that officer was again reprimanded and ignobly compelled to wear for two days the wooden sword. This he did “for the boys” with grim humor. As the men sobered up and gradually straggled into camp that night, they realized what their disgraceful behavior had brought to their captain. Remorse, or some equally powerful agency, made Captain Lincoln’s company a model one from that hour.
To claim that sports were not a feature of camp life and that Captain Lincoln did not participate in them, were ridiculous. Nine-tenths of that army were Kentuckians or Tennesseeans, every man of which loved a horse. There were close upon two thousand horses in camp; some better, some worse, and when off duty no time was allowed to lapse without a horse race, a foot race or a wrestling match. Into those contests Captain Lincoln did not obtrude himself, but he was always counted on as “being ready” and on the spot. His men knew his prowess and were proud of it, as was Offutt when he got the Captain into the Armstrong affair. They were alert to advertise that prowess at all times and willing to stake their last earthly possession on his success. Such is human nature to-day. The best foot runner, quoit pitcher, boxer or wrestler in a body of men has followers constantly boasting the prowess of their favorite and getting him into business, and many times into troubles. So Captain Lincoln, to oblige his men, and likely his own inclination, took on wrestling matches and vanquished his antagonists one after another to the end of his service as a soldier.
The story of the match with Thompson, the wrestler, is no doubt true, though difficult to locate. Some authorities have asserted that Thompson came from Union County,[289] but as Union County supplied but one company, that of Captain B.B. Craig, in which no person named Thompson can be found, the Union County portion of it must be eliminated. This is unfortunate when attempting to locate the situs. Had Thompson been from Union County his company never could have met either of the three companies with which Lincoln was connected, because it did not reach the main army until Lincoln had been discharged and was on his way home.
The story contains, with all its variations, the reference to his position as captain, and no loss of prestige with his men; therefore the event must have occurred at Beardstown, Rushville, Yellow Banks, Dixon’s Ferry, Ottawa or some one of the camps along that route, and prior to May 27th, the date of his muster out. At any rate the story is as follows:
Thompson, a man of burly form, champion of his section, was tendered to Captain Lincoln for a match in a way that to decline it would have disgraced his men and his friends. Captain Lincoln was not given to separating himself from a responsibility at any time, and without formality accepted the challenge. Up to that date there had been no pay-day and it is safe to assume that the entire company could not inventory five dollars in money; but the men had knives, souvenirs, watches and knickknacks, the last one of which was staked on the issue of the match. The combatants grappled and it soon became evident that Thompson was qualified to bear championship laurels. The tussle was long and uncertain and keyed all the men up to a high tension, as each contestant was being cheered to a victory; but Thompson, after a hard battle, secured the first fall. Lincoln could recognize a worthy antagonist and before taking on the second bout said to his friends: “This is the most powerful man I ever had hold of. He will throw me and you will lose your all unless I act on the defensive.” Accordingly, when the men came together again, Captain Lincoln played for a “crotch holt,” which Thompson was able to avoid. Then, as the struggle progressed, the trick of “sliding away,” was tried. In this Captain Lincoln was more successful, for in the scramble for advantage both men went to the ground in a heap, which, according to the ethics of frontier wrestling, is denominated a “dog fall,” hence a draw. Armstrong claimed a victory, at which a storm of protest went up from Captain Lincoln’s backers, and a free fight was imminent. Believing that trouble was imminent, Captain Lincoln came forward, and in a voice which compelled attention, exclaimed, “Boys, the man actually threw me once fair, broadly so, and the second time, this very fall, he threw me fairly, though not apparently so,”[290] and that settled the question for all time, though “dog fall” was frequently repeated during the remainder of the campaign by the Captain’s partisans. That defeat and the acknowledgment of it in no sense diminished the influence or standing of Captain Lincoln with his men or those who were beginning to know and like him.
In later years men took advantage of his prominence to claim many untrue familiarities in the Black Hawk war. For instance: William L. Wilson, who was a private in Capt. M.G. Wilson’s company, wrote, under date of February 3d, 1882: “I have during that time had much fun with the afterwards President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. I remember one time of wrestling with him, two best in three, and ditched him. He was not satisfied and tried it in a foot race, for a five-dollar bill. I won the money and ’tis spent long ago. And many more reminiscences could I give, but I am of the Quaker persuasion and not much given to writing.” There are some other qualities belonging to the Quaker persuasion which might have been regarded with advantage in the manufacture of that story.
A story for which there is no warrant of authority, except constant repetition, is the one of the drinking contest. At first the scene was located at Beardstown, but afterward Colonel Strode, having heard it, appropriated the glory of the contest to himself, at least one-half of it, and located the same at Dixon’s Ferry. The question of strength having arisen, Captain Lincoln was quoted as being the strongest man in the army. Strode challenged the statement by offering to bet that he and nobody else could raise a barrel of whisky and drink from its bunghole. The partisans of Captain Lincoln accepted the challenge, produced the whisky and their favorite, and Colonel Strode made his boast good by raising the barrel and taking his drink from the bunghole. The feat seemed impossible, but having been witnessed by a reputable crowd of men, could not be gainsaid.
Captain Lincoln is said to have then stepped forward, and with much greater ease swung the barrel to his lips and taken his drink, thereby besting Strode in his boast.
An addition was made to the story in later years by having Strode exclaim, “Well, I thought you said you never drank any whisky, Captain Lincoln!”
“I don’t drink whisky, Colonel Strode,” replied Captain Lincoln, and forthwith he spat the whisky upon the ground.
At the mouth of the Rock River the company was sworn into the United States service by Gen. Henry Atkinson. It is but recently that the author has been able to determine that much disputed point, and it must be admitted that the discovery was made with pain. From the days of his earliest boyhood, he had believed that Jefferson Davis was the mustering officer and that there the two men who later became so conspicuous, yet divergent, in the eyes of the world, met for the first time, the one asking the other if he would support the constitution of the United States and fight for the flag.
For generations that tradition has obtained. It has been repeated by the highest authorities, even by President Lincoln himself, if we may believe Ben. Perley Poore and others who have claimed the distinction of hearing him so state. The point was generally fixed at Dixon’s Ferry, the birthplace of the author, and for that reason, steeped with the tradition from his earliest boyhood, it must be admitted that the discovery of the truth was made with profound grief. There can be no mistake about the truthfulness of that discovery. Major Nathaniel Buckmaster was second in command of the army. He was a careful and conscientious officer. He wrote the fact in a letter to his wife on the following day, and that letter is herewith reproduced as evidence. It may be said that General Atkinson might have sworn in the general officers, while a minor officer like Lieutenant Davis might have administered the oath to the captains and men, but it is not conceivable why more than one officer should be employed for so small a body of men, and it cannot be imagined why the captains would be separated from the few officers of the general staff. In fact, if General Atkinson were to have made a specialty of or distinction, it seems fair to presume that he would have included the captains with the officers sworn in.
On the 9th General Atkinson issued orders to the troops to march on the morning of the 10th, which they did, reaching the Prophet’s town in the afternoon, where camp was established for the night.
The following day, instead of remaining at that point, Reynolds pushed up the river twelve miles and again camped.
On the morning of the 12th the baggage was abandoned and a forced march made to Dixon’s Ferry. There Captain Lincoln remained the 12th, 13th and 14th, at which last-named date Stillman was defeated and his men returned to Dixon’s pell-mell during all hours of the night.
On the 15th he went up the river, reaching the battlefield just before dark. After the burial of the dead he camped and next day returned to Dixon’s, where he remained until the 19th, when he pushed up the river in pursuit of the Indians. Twelve miles out he camped until the 20th, when he again marched to Stillman’s battlefield, at which point Captain Goodan was placed under arrest for some breach of duty, demonstrating that Captain Lincoln was not the only officer of that rank to suffer punishment.
On the 21st the army moved over to a point on Rock River, where it camped until the 22d, moving then over to the Kishwaukee and up the same about ten miles from its mouth, where camp was established and the army rested until the following morning.
LETTER OF MAJ. NATHANIEL BUCKMASTER.
LETTER OF MAJ. NATHANIEL BUCKMASTER.
On the 23d the army moved about twelve miles in a southeasterly direction to the Pottawatomie village on Sycamore Creek, at which point, after a consultation with all the captains, it was decided to march to the mouth of Fox River and there discharge the volunteers. At the village were found the scalps of Stillman’s men and evidences of Indians, but no sentiment could move the men to continue the pursuit of them. Some few articles of Indian property were found at the village, all of which were confiscated by the men. Much confusion has in the past been caused by the terms Kishwaukee and Sycamore Creek, when no such name as the latter can now be found on the maps, but an explanation can be found in the fact that in those days many called the stream by both names, interchangeably, while others especially called the south branch of the Kishwaukee River by the name of Sycamore Creek. Afterward the latter branch continued by the name Sycamore Creek until settlements increased, when finally, to avoid confusion, the present name of Kishwaukee River was given to both branches. Sycamore Creek meant then the south branch of the Kishwaukee.
On the morning of the 24th the march was resumed, the army camping near the “Paw Paw village,” which was also robbed by the men. On the 25th Fox River was reached, most of the day being spent there in searching men for articles of plunder taken from the two Indian villages. On the 26th, being very near the end of the journey, the march was very leisurely pursued for twelve miles, where the last camp before reaching Ottawa was established, and where the men remained until the following morning, the 27th, when Ottawa was reached. On that and the following days the Illinois volunteers were mustered out by Major Buckmaster.
During that march along Sycamore Creek the story is told of an old Pottawatomie Indian who came into camp, tired and hungry. His age should have commanded respect, and probably would under circumstances at all different, but in that instance the first chance to kill a supposed enemy was presented and his death was demanded. The poor old Indian produced from his garments a safe conduct signed by Gen. Lewis Cass, pleading protection under it. “Make an example of him,” cried one. “The letter is a forgery,” cried others, and still others called him a spy, and the poor old fellow was in danger of death, when Captain Lincoln, “his face swarthy with resolution and rage,” stepped forward, even between the cowering Indian and the guns pointed at him, and shouted, “This must not be; he must not be shot and killed by us,” and the men recoiled. “This is cowardly on your part, Lincoln,” one man said; to which Captain Lincoln instantly replied, “If any man thinks I am a coward let him test it.” Still defiant, another cried, “Lincoln, you are larger and heavier than we are,” but that miserable objection was quickly disposed of by the rejoinder from the Captain, “This you can guard against; choose your weapons.” It is needless to add that no one chose a weapon and that the Indian departed in safety.
On the 27th, the day Captain Lincoln was mustered out, he re-enlisted as a private in the company of Elijah Iles, which was one of the six companies to enter the twenty-day service,[291] pending the organization of the new levies at Fort Wilbourn. He remained with the company at Ottawa and in camp on the opposite bank of the river until the morning of the 6th, when the company marched for Dixon’s Ferry. The first night out the company camped at a point a little south and east of what is now Sublette in Lee County, and reached Dixon’s Ferry the evening of the 7th. On the morning of the 8th the company started for Galena, camping that night about twenty miles out; the night of the 9th near Apple River Fort, now Elizabeth, in Jo Daviess County, and in the forenoon of the 10th the company reached Galena.
On the 11th it started on its return march over the same trail pursued in going, camping at the same places, reaching Dixon’s Ferry the night of June 13th, from which point it started on the 14th, and reached Fort Wilbourn, where, on the evening of the 15th, the company was mustered out by Lieut. Robert Anderson, and where, on the following day, Mr. Lincoln was mustered into the company of Dr. (Captain) Jacob M. Early, along with John T. Stuart and other ex-captains, majors and minor officers.
On the 20th his company, which was an independent one, reporting direct to General Atkinson, started for Dixon’s Ferry, arriving there the evening of the 21st, and remaining at that point until noon of the 27th, when he, with the second division of the army, began his final march in pursuit of Black Hawk. Twelve miles out he camped, and in the afternoon of the 29th once more reached and camped on Stillman’s battlefield, six miles from Sycamore or Kishwaukee Creek, as stated by Albert Sidney Johnston at the time.
On the morning of the 30th, he traveled four miles above Sycamore Creek, to a point on Rock River “which is very narrow at this place, and continues so.”
July 1st, the journal tells us: “Marched this morning seven miles from the last encampment. Came to Rock River, which is scarcely one hundred yards wide at this point. There is in the bluff a remarkably fine spring, thickly shaded with cedar trees, the first I ever saw. The bluff is pebbly. About half a mile above, a narrow, rapid creek empties into Rock River, one mile below Pecatonica, known by the name of Brown’s Creek. Encamped this evening in the fork of Turtle Creek and Rock River, above the mouth of Turtle Creek.”
On the 2d he proceeded, after considerable suffering for want of water, to the mouth of “the river of the Four Lakes,” on the banks of a large pond.
On the 3d Lake Koshkonong, or “Mud Lake,” was reached, and there the troops remained the 4th, 5th and 6th, Captain Early’s company doing constant duty as a spy company or scouting party.
On the 7th the army moved up to Whitewater River and about four miles up that stream, to which point the divisions of Posey and Alexander came and camped.
On the 8th a council of war was held, at which it was resolved to return to the mouth of the Whitewater and operate from that point. On reaching the point where the troops were encamped on the 7th, the army halted for the night. From that point Captain Early’s company was constantly engaged in scouring the country in search of the fleeing Indians, without any success at all. Many trails were reported, but on following them up each proved abortive.
Provisions had become scarce. The enemy was as far away as ever. The necessity of a different campaign became apparent. Captain Dunn, who had been shot by accident, was recovering and was about to be returned to Dixon’s Ferry under escort of Col. John Ewing’s Regiment. Henry and Alexander had been detached to go to Fort Winnebago for provisions, thus virtually disrupting the army. At that stage General Atkinson considered it best to dismiss the independent commands. Accordingly, on July 10th, 1832, the company of Captain Early was mustered out of the service, and its members, including Private Abraham Lincoln, started for Dixon’s Ferry with the detachment of Colonel Ewing, who took with him all the sick and decrepit men of the army.
The men fell down the river to Dixon’s Ferry, along the same route pursued by them up that stream, but did not move so rapidly for the reason that many of the men had lost their horses by death, theft and one or another cause.
Among those to have lost their horses were Mr. Lincoln and his chum, George Harrison, but during the march those who had horses cheerfuly gave up the use of them to the unfortunate, and on the whole a jolly time of it was had all the way down the river.
On that march up the river Mr. Lincoln’s mess was composed of five men–himself, his stepbrother, John D. Johnston, G.B. Fanchier, George Harrison, all privates, and First Corporal R.M. Wyatt, all of Captain Early’s company. During all of Mr. Lincoln’s service he was ever ready to march or move upon the phantom enemy. While scouting up in the swamps around Lake Koshkonong, he was the first to say, “Let’s go.” He was tireless on the march and overflowing with anecdote at all times.
The story has been told of him that while returning to Dixon’s Ferry after his discharge, his shoes were so worn that he preferred going without them. One morning was particularly chilly, which brought out the complaint that he was very cold. “No wonder,” replied his neighbor, “there is so much of you on the ground.” That story may be truthful, but nevertheless the skeptical listener is forced to wonder how anyone could suffer to any great extent during the last few days of July, the hottest of the year. It is also a noteworthy fact that the story has never been authenticated by the names of eye-witnesses.
From Dixon’s Ferry Mr. Lincoln, with his companion, George Harrison, crossed the country to the point on the Illinois River later called Peru; thence to Peoria, where they bought a canoe in which to paddle themselves down the Illinois River as far as Havana. While Harrison supplied the commissary, Mr. Lincoln made an oar or paddle to be used as motive power–one large enough to endure hard service. Just below Pekin they overtook two men on a log raft, upon which the two soldiers were invited. It was meal time, and, western fashion, the hungry men were invited to join the raftsmen. Cornbread, fish, eggs, butter, coffee and similar luxuries were lavishly supplied, and from Mr. Lincoln’s own statements he did justice to the meal.
Arrived at Havana, the canoe was sold without trouble and the two companions set out overland for New Salem, Lincoln’s long strides blazing the way and leading poor Harrison a pace he never forgot.
While no military achievement brought glory to Mr. Lincoln, he was ever after fond of recording his experiences in the Black Hawk War and relating stories of the ridiculous things which were done in his campaigns. Repetition by others caused their enlargement, until the number and variety became very great. Those stories attracted attention to him in Congress and brought him a considerable following, and finally a reputation, when he made his celebrated speech on “Military Coattails,” into which he injected portions of his Black Hawk War experiences in a way to ridicule the life out of the military pretensions of Lewis Cass.
Again quoting from Ben. Perley Poore, we find:[292]
“Soon after the presidential campaign of 1848 was opened, Alfred Iverson, a Democratic Representative from Georgia, made a political speech, in which he accused the Whigs of having deserted their financial and tariff principles and of having ‘taken shelter under the military coattails of General Taylor,’ then their presidential candidate. This gave Mr. Lincoln as a text for his reply, ‘Military Coat-tails.’ He had written the heads of what he had intended to say on a few pages of foolscap paper, which he placed on a friend’s desk, bordering on an alleyway, which he had obtained permission to speak from. At first he followed his notes, but as he warmed up, he left his desk and his notes to stride down the alley toward the Speaker’s chair, holding his left hand behind him so that he could now and then shake the tails of his own rusty black broadcloth dress coat, while he earnestly gesticulated with his long right arm, shaking the bony index finger at the Democrats on the other side of the chamber. Occasionally, as he would complete a sentence amid shouts of laughter, he would return up the alley to his desk, consult his notes, take a sip of water and start off again.
“Toward the close of his speech Mr. Lincoln poured a torrent of ridicule upon the military reputation of General Cass, and then alluded to his own exploits as a soldier in the Black Hawk War, ‘where,’ he continued, ‘I fought, bled and came away. If General Cass saw any live, fighting Indians at the battle of the Thames, where he served as aide-de-camp to General Harrison, it was more than I did, but I had a good many bloody struggles with the mosquitoes, and although I never fainted from the loss of blood, I can truly say I was often very hungry. Mr. Speaker,’ added Mr. Lincoln, ‘if I should ever conclude to doff whatever our Democratic friends may suppose there is of black-cockade Federalism about me, and thereupon they shall take me up as their candidate for the Presidency, I protest they shall not make fun of me as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a military hero.’[293]
“Mr. Lincoln received hearty congratulations at the close, many Democrats joining the Whigs in their complimentary comments. The speech was pronounced by the older members of the House almost equal to the celebrated defense of General Harrison by Tom Corwin, in reply to an attack made on him by a Mr. Crary of Ohio.”
APPENDIX NO. 2.
Jefferson Davis in the Black Hawk War.
In the year 1832, when the State of Illinois was but fourteen years of age, there was to be found on the south bank of Rock River, sixty-five miles above its mouth, a frontier post called Dixon’s Ferry. It was an unpretentious affair, consisting of a solitary tenement laid east and west, in three sections, and built of logs–a cozy but rambling affair ninety feet in length.
At this point the great “Kellogg’s trail,” run by O.W. Kellogg in the year 1827, crossed the river, and John Dixon, from whom the ferry derived its name and its existence, had lived here with his family since early in the year 1830, entertaining travelers, operating the ferry and trading with the “suckers” who journeyed to and from the mining district and Indians. This famous old trail was then the route pursued by the argonauts of all the southern country in search of sudden wealth in the mines. It was the great thoroughfare from Peoria, then more commonly referred to as Fort Clark, to Galena, sought by those from the St. Louis country on the southwest and the old Vincennes country to the southeast, and followed on northwesterly past Dixon’s Ferry to Galena, where the crowds dispersed and scattered for the “diggings” over northwestern Illinois and southwestern Wisconsin, then a part of Michigan Territory. Later the Government mail route changed the old trail to a straighter course between Galena and Dixon’s Ferry, thence leaving it for an easterly direction through DeKalb, Kane, DuPage and Cook counties the route continued to Chicago.
Famous old days were those in the West and famous men traveled that trail in those old days! From the miner and prospector to the merchant; from the mail carrier to the soldier; from the circuit preacher to the circuit law rider following a peripatetic court. From Peter Cartwright, the energetic Methodist preacher, who swam swollen streams and rivers to keep his word, and who, if rumor be true, brought in more than one obstreperous recruit with a flogging, to Col. James M. Strode, the then noted but erratic criminal lawyer of Galena; from Lieut.-Col. Zachary Taylor, who afterward became President of the United States, and Gen. Winfield Scott, who wanted to be, to Lieut. Jefferson Davis, who was President of the Southern Confederacy, and Capt. Abraham Lincoln, who dissolved it, we find them all associated with the old trail and eating and lodging with mine host Dixon, singly and together; those who were later to become Cabinet Ministers, United States Senators, Representatives, Governors, and soldiers and statesmen without number.
LIEUT. JEFFERSON DAVIS.
White men and Indians alike made their pilgrimages along that trail, stopping over with Mr. Dixon to strengthen the inner man and replenish their stock of supplies. With the Indians he was particularly popular, insomuch that he became their counselor and arbitrator, and likewise their banker. In turn, as a recognition of his many and kindly offices, the Winnebagoes adopted him into their tribe, naming him Na-chu-sa (long hair white). This affection for the old patriarch was equally manifested by the whites, and when the time came to bespeak it there was left no uncertainty respecting the judgment. His silent influence became so potent that in the year 1840, with Galena the political and commercial power of the Northwest, he took from her to his own town the United States Land Office.
When the subject of removal was first broached it appeared so ridiculously impossible that nothing in Galena but laughter protested, but John Dixon’s tavern was stronger than the politics and commercial prestige of the giant philistine, and her haughty pride was humbled. Singly he journeyed on to Washington, and for the simple asking, the office, the most potential factor in the politics of that day, was ordered removed to Dixon–the miracle of the century in Illinois politics.
The man’s venerable personality, his charming sweetness of disposition, his rugged honesty, and possibly his little account book, were altogether too powerful for the antagonists of those rugged days, and before passing that same little account book it may be well to run hastily over its pages.
Colonel Strode was exceedingly familiar with them; one might say that he took liberties with them. First we find Colonel Strode Dr.–To Cash–$10.00, and again Strode was Dr.–To Cash–$5.00; invariably cash, running clear through from cover to cover.
Col. William S. Hamilton, son of General Alexander Hamilton, whose business ventures were as varied as they were numerous, was favored with merchandise to the extent of many pages and many hundreds of dollars, and so, by the by, was Col. Zachary Taylor, only to more modest amounts. One entry characteristic of the times is laughable enough. Here it is: “Col. Z. Taylor–To Md’se. (including a shirt pattern), $6:50,” and then follows its liquidation in a still more laughable manner: “Settled by note.”
There is humor for you! The hero of more than one war and President of the United States settling an account of $6.50 by note of hand! But the note was paid in due time, we are assured by Miss F. Louise Dixon, the owner of the little book with such historic credits and debits.
Even the dignity of Gen. Winfield Scott was not above the acceptance of the hospitality of those friendly pages, for we find entries which tell of the manner they had obliged him, but the punctilio observed by him in the discharge of those little accounts was manifested by the same precision one would expect from the dignified old soldier, who was nothing if not precise.
Men came and traded, traveled afar off and returned to settle, sometimes a year from date and sometimes at a still longer date, but they returned, and the score at Mr. Dixon’s was never forgotten. Today the debtor was a miner; tomorrow he might be a contractor, and later he might be a lawyer, but in meeting his obligations he was always a man.
On one occasion we find this same Colonel Hamilton, who had contracted two hundred steers to be delivered to the Government agency at Green Bay, Wisconsin, driving them from Springfield, Illinois, through Chicago, and thence northward to his destination. In the same month he was operating “Hamilton’s diggings,” and subsequently he was defending a noted Mormon at Nauvoo, Illinois, charged with the commission of a crime, and yet again he was commanding a band of Menominee Indians in the Black Hawk War; always strenuous and always unqualifiedly successful.
Backward and forward the people came, forgetting never to stop over with genial Mr. Dixon. Travel was constant, and in a general sense men were prosperous, particularly in the mines.
Though freely encroaching on the land of the Winnebagoes, no troubles had ensued since the “Winnebago scare” of 1827, when Red Bird was captured for an unwarranted attack upon the whites.
A little riffle was caused in 1831 by Black Hawk, but nothing serious arose to disturb the tranquillity of the settlements until the year 1832. Possibly if the affair of 1831 had been more serious the one of 1832 would have been less disastrous.
In the spring of the year 1832, Black Hawk and his “British band,” as it was denominated, of the Sac tribe of Indians, disregarding all former treaties, one of them so late as the preceding summer, crossed the Mississippi in search of trouble. He had traveled up Rock River, stopping one day with Mr. Dixon, and then continued to a point some thirty miles above, where Stillman and his militia in attempting later to dislodge them, were signally defeated, and in consequence consternation spread over the entire West.
Then it was the log cabin of John Dixon took on a national reputation, which its memory has ever since maintained, and which must stand by it so long as our country endures, and then, indeed, the account books took on an importance seldom acquired in the affairs of bookdom. Then the tide turned, too, from lawyers and “suckers” to soldiers, and the flower and chivalry of the State and Nation went forth to concentrate at Dixon’s Ferry to contest the advance of Black Hawk and his mercenaries, who had fought the Americans at every opportunity from the beginning of the century.