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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5390.txt b/5390.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb555d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/5390.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2720 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crisis, Volume 3, by Winston Churchill + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crisis, Volume 3 + +Author: Winston Churchill + +Release Date: October 19, 2004 [EBook #5390] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, VOLUME 3 *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE CRISIS + +By Winston Churchill + +BOOK II. + + +Volume 3. + + + +CHAPTER I + +RAW MATERIAL + +Summer, intolerable summer, was upon the city at last. The families of +its richest citizens had fled. Even at that early day some braved the +long railroad journey to the Atlantic coast. Amongst these were our +friends the Cluymes, who come not strongly into this history. Some went +to the Virginia Springs. But many, like the Brinsmades and the Russells, +the Tiptons and the Hollingsworths, retired to the local paradise of +their country places on the Bellefontaine road, on the cool heights above +the river. Thither, as a respite from the hot office, Stephen was often +invited by kind Mr. Brinsmade, who sometimes drove him out in his own +buggy. Likewise he had visited Miss Puss Russell. But Miss Virginia +Carvel he had never seen since the night he had danced with her. This was +because, after her return from the young ladies' school at Monticello, +she had gone to Glencoe, Glencoe, magic spot, perched high on wooded +highlands. And under these the Meramec, crystal pure, ran lightly on sand +and pebble to her bridal with that turbid tyrant, the Father of Waters. + +To reach Glencoe you spent two dirty hours on that railroad which (it was +fondly hoped) would one day stretch to the Pacific Ocean. You generally +spied one of the big Catherwood boys in the train, or their tall sister +Maude. The Catherwoods likewise lived at Glencoe in the summer. And on +some Saturday afternoons a grim figure in a linen duster and a silk +skull-cap took a seat in the forward car. That was Judge Whipple, on his +way to spend a quiet Sunday with Colonel Carvel. + +To the surprise of many good people, the Judge had recently formed +another habit. At least once a week he would drop in at the little house +on Olive Street next to Mr. Brinsmade's big one, which was shut up, and +take tea with Mrs. Brice. Afterward he would sit on the little porch over +the garden in the rear, or on the front steps, and watch the bob-tailed +horse-cars go by. His conversation was chiefly addressed to the widow. +Rarely to Stephen; whose wholesome respect for his employer had in no +wise abated. + +Through the stifling heat of these summer days Stephen sat in the outer +office, straining at the law. Had it not been for the fact that Mr. +Whipple went to his mother's house, despair would have seized him long +since. Apparently his goings-out and his comings-in were noted only by +Mr. Richter. Truly the Judge's methods were not Harvard methods. And if +there were pride in the young Bostonian, Mr. Whipple thought he knew the +cure for it. + +It was to Richter Stephen owed a debt of gratitude in these days. He +would often take his midday meal in the down-town beer garden with the +quiet German. Then there came a Sunday afternoon (to be marked with a red +letter) when Richter transported him into Germany itself. Stephen's eyes +were opened. Richter took him across the Rhine. The Rhine was Market +Street, and south of that street was a country of which polite American +society took no cognizance. + +Here was an epic movement indeed, for South St. Louis was a great sod +uprooted from the Fatherland and set down in all its vigorous crudity in +the warm black mud of the Mississippi Valley. Here lager beer took the +place of Bourbon, and black bread and sausages of hot rolls and fried +chicken. Here were quaint market houses squatting in the middle of wide +streets; Lutheran churches, square and uncompromising, and bulky Turner +Halls, where German children were taught the German tongue. Here, in a +shady grove of mulberry and locust, two hundred families were spread out +at their ease. + +For a while Richter sat in silence, puffing at a meerschaum with a huge +brown bowl. A trick of the mind opened for Stephen one of the histories +in his father's library in Beacon Street, across the pages of which had +flitted the ancestors of this blue-eyed and great-chested Saxon. He saw +them in cathedral forests, with the red hair long upon their bodies. He +saw terrifying battles with the Roman Empire surging back and forth +through the low countries. He saw a lad of twenty at the head of rugged +legions clad in wild skins, sweeping Rome out of Gaul. Back in the dim +ages Richter's fathers must have defended grim Eresburg. And it seemed to +him that in the end the new Republic must profit by this rugged stock, +which had good women for wives and mothers, and for fathers men in whose +blood dwelt a fierce patriotism and contempt for cowardice. + +This fancy of ancestry pleased Stephen. He thought of the forefathers of +those whom he knew, who dwelt north of Market Street. Many, though this +generation of the French might know it not, had bled at Calais and at +Agincourt, had followed the court of France in clumsy coaches to Blois +and Amboise, or lived in hovels under the castle walls. Others had +charged after the Black Prince at Poitiers, and fought as serf or noble. +in the war of the Roses; had been hatters or tailors in Cromwell's +armies, or else had sacrificed lands and fortunes for Charles Stuart. +These English had toiled, slow but resistless, over the misty Blue Ridge +after Boone and Harrod to this old St. Louis of the French, their +enemies, whose fur traders and missionaries had long followed the veins +of the vast western wilderness. And now, on to the structure builded by +these two, comes Germany to be welded, to strengthen or to weaken. + +Richter put down his pipe on the table. + +"Stephen," he said suddenly, "you do not share the prejudice against us +here?" + +Stephen flushed. He thought of some vigorous words that Miss Puss Russell +had used on the subject of the Dutch." + +"No," said he, emphatically. + +"I am glad," answered Richter, with a note of sadness, in his voice. "Do +not despise us before you know more of us. We are still feudal in +Germany--of the Middle Ages. The peasant is a serf. He is compelled to +serve the lord of the land every year with so much labor of his hands. +The small farmers, the 'Gross' and 'Mittel Bauern', we call them, are +also mortgaged to the nobles who tyrannize our Vaterland. Our merchants +are little merchants--shopkeepers, you would say. My poor father, an +educated man, was such. They fought our revolution." + +"And now," said Stephen, "why do they not keep their hold?" + +Richter sighed. + +"We were unused to ruling," he answered. "We knew not how to act--what to +do. You must remember that we were not trained to govern ourselves, as +are you of the English race, from children. Those who have been for +centuries ground under heel do not make practical parliamentarians. No; +your heritage is liberty--you Americans and English; and we Germans must +desert our native land to partake of it." + +"And was it not hard to leave?" asked Stephen, gently. + +The eyes of the German filled at the recollection, nor did he seem +ashamed of his tears. + +"I had a poor old father whose life was broken to save the Vaterland, but +not his spirit," he cried, "no, not that. My father was born in 1797. God +directed my grandfather to send him to the Kolnisches gymnasium, where +the great Jahn taught. Jahn was our Washington, the father of Germany +that is to be. + +"Then our Fatherland was French. Our women wore Parisian clothes, and +spoke the language; French immorality and atheism had spread like a +plague among us Napoleon the vile had taken the sword of our Frederick +from Berlin. It was Father Jahn (so we love to call him), it was Father +Jahn who founded the 'Turnschulen', that the generations to come might +return to simple German ways,--plain fare, high principles, our native +tongue; and the development of the body. The downfall of the fiend +Napoleon and the Vaterland united--these two his scholars must have +written in their hearts. All summer long, in their black caps and linen +pantaloons, they would trudge after him, begging a crust here and a +cheese there, to spread his teachings far and wide under the thatched +roofs. + +"Then came 1811. I have heard my father tell how in the heat of that year +a great red comet burned in the sky, even as that we now see, my friend. +God forbid that this portends blood. But in the coming spring the French +conscripts filled our sacred land like a swarm of locusts, devouring as +they went. And at their head, with the pomp of Darius, rode that +destroyer of nations and homes, Napoleon. What was Germany then? Ashes. +But the red embers were beneath, fanned by Father Jahn. Napoleon at +Dresden made our princes weep. Never, even in the days of the Frankish +kings, had we been so humbled. He dragged our young men with him to +Russia, and left them to die moaning on the frozen wastes, while he drove +off in his sledge. + +"It was the next year that Germany rose. High and low, rich and poor, +Jaeger and Landwehr, came flocking into the army, and even the old men, +the Landsturm. Russia was an ally, and later, Austria. My father, a last +of sixteen, was in the Landwehr, under the noble Blucher in Silesia, when +they drove the French into the Katzbach and the Neisse, swollen by the +rains into torrents. It had rained until the forests were marshes. Powder +would not burn. But Blucher, ah, there was a man! He whipped his great +sabre from under his cloak, crying 'Vorwarts! Vorwarts!' And the Landwehr +with one great shout slew their enemies with the butts of their muskets +until their arms were weary and the bodies were tossed like logs in the +foaming waters. They called Blucher Marachall Vorwarts! + +"Then Napoleon was sent to Elba. But the victors quarrelled amongst +themselves, while Talleyrand and Metternich tore our Vaterland into +strips, and set brother against brother. And our blood, and the grief for +the widows and the fatherless, went for nothing." + +Richter paused to light his pipe. + +"After a while," he continued presently, "came the German Confederation, +with Austria at the head. Rid of Napoleon, we had another despot in +Metternich. But the tree which Jahn had planted grew, and its branches +spread. The great master was surrounded by spies. My father had gone to +Jena University, when he joined the Burschenschaft, or Students' League, +of which I will tell you later. It was pledged to the rescue of the +Vaterland. He was sent to prison for dipping his handkerchief in the +blood of Sand, beheaded for liberty at Mannheim. Afterwards he was +liberated, and went to Berlin and married my mother, who died when I was +young. Twice again he was in prison because the societies met at his +house. We were very poor, my friend. You in America know not the meaning +of that word. His health broke, and when '48 came, he was an old man. His +hair was white, and he walked the streets with a crutch. But he had saved +a little money to send me to Jena. + +"He was proud of me. I was big-boned and fair, like my mother. And when I +came home at the end of a Semester I can see him now, as he would hobble +to the door, wearing the red and black and gold of the Burschenschaft. +And he would keep me up half the night-telling him of our 'Schlager' +fights with the aristocrats. My father had been a noted swordsman in his +day." + +He stopped abruptly, and colored. For Stephen was staring at the jagged +scar, He had never summoned the courage to ask Richter how he came by it. + +"Schlager fights?" he exclaimed. + +"Broadswords," answered the German, hastily. "Some day I will tell you of +them, and of the struggle with the troops in the 'Breite Strasse' in +March. We lost, as I told you because we knew not how to hold what we had +gained. + +"I left Germany, hoping to make a home here for my poor father. How sad +his face as he kissed me farewell! And he said to me: 'Carl, if ever your +new Vaterland, the good Republic, be in danger, sacrifice all. I have +spent my years in bondage, and I say to you that life without liberty is +not worth the living.' Three months I was gone, and he was dead, without +that for which he had striven so bravely. He never knew what it is to +have an abundance of meat. He never knew from one day to the other when +he would have to embrace me, all he owned, and march away to prison, +because he was a patriot." Richter's voice had fallen low, but now he +raised it. "Do you think, my friend," he cried, "do you think that I +would not die willingly for this new country if the time should come. +Yes, and there are a million like me, once German, now American, who will +give their lives to preserve this Union. For without it the world is not +fit to live in." + +Stephen had food for thought as he walked northward through the strange +streets on that summer evening. Here indeed was a force not to be +reckoned, and which few had taken into account. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ABRAHAM LINCOLN + +It is sometimes instructive to look back and see hour Destiny gave us a +kick here, and Fate a shove there, that sent us in the right direction at +the proper time. And when Stephen Brice looks backward now, he laughs to +think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who +are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to +him that summer had been these. Stephen was dressed more carefully than +usual, in view of a visit to Bellefontaine Road. Whereupon the Judge +demanded whether he were contemplating marriage. Without waiting for a +reply he pointed to a rope and a slab of limestone on the pavement below, +and waved his hand unmistakably toward the Mississippi. + +Miss Russell was of the opinion that Mr. Whipple had once been crossed in +love. + +But we are to speak more particularly of a put-up job, although Stephen +did not know this at the time. + +Towards five o'clock of a certain afternoon in August of that year, 1858, +Mr. Whipple emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he +strode straight to Stephen's table. His communications were always a +trifle startling. This was no exception. + +"Mr. Brice," said he, "you are to take the six forty-five train on the +St. Louis, Alton, and Chicago road tomorrow morning for Springfield, +Illinois." + +"Yes sir." + +"Arriving at Springfield, you are to deliver this envelope into the hands +of Mr. Abraham Lincoln, of the law firm of Lincoln & Herndon." + +"Abraham Lincoln!" cried Stephen, rising and straddling his chair. "But, +sir--" + +"Abraham Lincoln," interrupted the Judge, forcibly "I try to speak +plainly, sir. You are to deliver it into Mr. Lincoln's hands. If he is +not in Springfield, find out where he is and follow him up. Your expenses +will be paid by me. The papers are important. Do you understand, sir?" + +Stephen did. And he knew better than to argue the matter with Mr. +Whipple. He had read in the Missouri Democrat of this man Lincoln, a +country lawyer who had once been to Congress, and who was even now +disputing the senatorship of his state with the renowned Douglas. In +spite of their complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from +conservative citizens who did not believe in the efficacy of Judge +Douglas's Squatter Sovereignty. Likewise this Mr. Lincoln, who had once +been a rail-sputter, was uproariously derided by Northern Democrats +because he had challenged Mr. Douglas to seven debates, to be held at +different towns in the state of Illinois. David with his sling and his +smooth round pebble must have had much of the same sympathy and ridicule. + +For Mr. Douglas, Senator and Judge, was a national character, mighty in +politics, invulnerable in the armor of his oratory. And he was known far +and wide as the Little Giant. Those whom he did not conquer with his +logic were impressed by his person. + +Stephen remembered with a thrill that these debates were going on now. +One, indeed, had been held, and had appeared in fine print in a corner of +the Democrat. Perhaps this Lincoln might not be in; Springfield; perhaps +he, Stephen Brice, might, by chance, hit upon a debate, and see and hear +the tower of the Democracy, the Honorable Stephen A. Douglas. + +But it is greatly to be feared that our friend Stephen was bored with his +errand before he arrived at the little wooden station of the Illinois +capital. Standing on the platform after the train pulled out, he summoned +up courage to ask a citizen with no mustache and a beard, which he swept +away when he spat, where was the office of Lincoln & Herndon. The +stranger spat twice, regarded Mr. Brice pityingly, and finally led him in +silence past the picket fence and the New England-looking meeting-house +opposite until they came to the great square on which the State House +squatted. The State House was a building with much pretension to beauty, +built in the classical style, of a yellow stone, with sold white blinds +in the high windows and mighty columns capped at the gently slanting +roof. But on top of it was reared a crude wooden dome, like a clay head +on a marble statue. + +"That there," said the stranger, "is whar we watches for the County +Delegations when they come in to a meetin'." And with this remark, +pointing with a stubby thumb up a well-worn stair, he departed before +Stephen could thank him. Stephen paused under the awning, of which there +were many shading the brick pavement, to regard the straggling line of +stores and houses which surrounded and did homage to the yellow pile. The +brick house in which Mr. Lincoln's office was had decorations above the +windows. Mounting the stair, Stephen found a room bare enough, save for a +few chairs and law books, and not a soul in attendance. After sitting +awhile by the window, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he went out +on the landing to make inquiries. There he met another citizen in shirt +sleeves, like unto the first, in the very act of sweeping his beard out +of the way of a dexterous expectoration. + +"Wal, young man," said he, "who be you lookin' for here?" + +"For Mr. Lincoln," said Stephen. + +At this the gentleman sat down on the dirty top step; and gave vent to +quiet but annoying laughter. + +"I reckon you come to the wrong place." + +"I was told this was his office," said Stephen, with some heat. + +"Whar be you from?" said the citizen, with interest. + +"I don't see what that has to do with it," answered our friend. + +"Wal," said the citizen, critically, "if you was from Philadelphy or +Boston, you might stand acquitted." + +Stephen was on the point of claiming Boston, but wisely hesitated. + +"I'm from St. Louis, with a message for Mr. Lincoln," he replied. + +"Ye talk like y e was from down East," said the citizens who seemed in +the humor for conversation. "I reckon old Abe's' too busy to see you. +Say, young man, did you ever hear of Stephen Arnold Douglas, alias the +Little Giant, alias the Idol of our State, sir?" + +This was too much for Stephen, who left the citizen without the +compliment of a farewell. Continuing around the square, inquiring for Mr. +Lincoln's house, he presently got beyond the stores and burning pavements +on to a plank walk, under great shade trees, and past old brick mansions +set well back from the street. At length he paused in front of a wooden +house of a dirty grayish brown, too high for its length and breadth, with +tall shutters of the same color, and a picket fence on top of the +retaining wall which lifted the yard above the plank walk. It was an ugly +house, surely. But an ugly house may look beautiful when surrounded by +such heavy trees as this was. Their shade was the most inviting thing +Stephen had seen. A boy of sixteen or so was swinging on the gate, +plainly a very mischievous boy, with a round, laughing, sunburned face +and bright eyes. In front of the gate was a shabby carriage with top and +side curtains, hitched to a big bay horse. + +"Can you tell me where Mr. Lincoln lives?" inquired Stephen. + +"Well, I guess," said the boy. "I'm his son, and he lives right here when +he's at home. But that hasn't been often lately." + +"Where is he?" asked Stephen, beginning to realize the purport of his +conversations with citizens. + +Young Mr. Lincoln mentioned the name of a small town in the northern part +of the state, where he said his father would stop that night. He told +Stephen that he looked wilted, invited him into the house to have a glass +of lemonade, and to join him and another boy in a fishing excursion with +the big bay horse. Stephen told young Mr. Lincoln that he should have to +take the first train after his father. + +"Jimmy!" exclaimed the other, enviously, "then you'll hear the Freeport +debate." + +Now it has been said that the day was scorching hot. And when Stephen had +got back to the wooden station, and had waited an hour for the +Bloomington express, his anxiety to hear the Freeport debate was not as +keen as it might have been. Late in the afternoon he changed at +Bloomington to the Illinois Central Railroad: The sun fell down behind +the cardboard edge of the prairie, the train rattled on into the north, +wrapped in its dust and Smoke, and presently became a long comet, roaring +red, to match that other comet which flashed in the sky. + +By this time it may be said that our friend was heartily sick of his +mission, He tried to doze; but two men, a farmer and a clerk, got in at a +way station, and sat behind him. They began to talk about this man +Lincoln. + +"Shucks," said the clerk, "think of him opposing the Little Giant." + +"He's right smart, Sam," said the farmer. "He's got a way of sayin' +things that's clear. We boys can foller him. But Steve Douglas, he only +mixes you up." + +His companion guffawed. + +"Because why?" he shouted. "Because you ain't had no education: What does +a rail-sputter like Abe know about this government? Judge Douglas has +worked it all out. He's smart. Let the territories take care of +themselves. Besides, Abe ain't got no dignity. The fust of this week I +seen him side-tracked down the road here in a caboose, while Doug went by +in a special." + +"Abe is a plain man, Sam," the farmer answered solemnly. "But you watch +out for him." + +It was ten o'clock when Stephen descended at his destination. Merciful +night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged town. The +baggage man told him that Mr. Lincoln was at the tavern. + +That tavern! Will words describe the impression it made on a certain +young man from Boston! It was long and low and ramshackly and hot that +night as the inside of a brick-kiln. As he drew near it on the single +plant walk over the black prairie-mud, he saw countrymen and politicians +swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys were +in progress, and it, was with vast difficulty that our distracted young +man pushed through and found the landlord, This personage was the coolest +of the lot. Confusion was but food for his smiles, importunity but +increased his suavity. And of the seeming hundreds that pressed him, he +knew and utilized the Christian name of all. From behind a corner of the +bar he held them all at bay, and sent them to quarters like the old +campaigner he was. + +"Now, Ben, tain't no use gettin' mad. You, and Josh way, an' Will, an' +Sam, an' the Cap'n, an' the four Beaver brothers, will all sleep in +number ten. What's that, Franklin? No, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and +Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of +perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the +situation. "What's that? Supper, young man? Ain't you had no supper? +Gosh, I reckon if you can fight your way to the dinin' room, the gals'll +give you some pork and a cup of coffee." + +After a preliminary scuffle with a drunken countryman in mud-caked boots, +Mr. Brice presently reached the long table in the dining-room. A sense of +humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and +greasy potatoes and heavy apple pie. As he was finishing the pie, he +became aware of the tavern keeper standing over him. + +"Are you one of them flip Chicagy reporters?" asked that worthy, with a +suspicious eye on Stephen's clothes. + +Our friend denied this. + +"You didn't talk jest like 'em. Guess you'll be here, tonight--" + +"Yes," said Stephen, wearily. And he added, outs of force of habit, "Can +you give me a room?" + +"I reckon," was the cheerful reply. "Number ten, There ain't nobody in +there but Ben Billings, and the four Beaver brothers, an' three more. +I'll have a shake-down for ye next the north window." + +Stephen's thanks for the hospitality perhaps lacked heartiness. But +perceiving his host still contemplating him, he was emboldened to say: + +"Has Mr. Lincoln gone to bed?" + +"Who? Old Abe, at half-past ten? Wal I reckon you don't know him." + +Stephen's reflections here on the dignity of the Senatorial candidate of +the Republican Party in Illinois were novel, at any rate. He thought of +certain senators he had seen in Massachusetts. + +"The only reason he ain't down here swappin' yarns with the boys, is +because he's havin' some sort of confab with the Jedge and Joe Medill of +the 'Chicagy Press' and 'Tribune'." + +"Do you think he would see me?" asked Stephen, eagerly. He was emboldened +by the apparent lack of ceremony of the candidate. The landlord looked at +him in some surprise. + +"Wal, I reckon. Jest go up an' knock at the door number seven, and say +Tom Wright sent ye." + +"How shall I know Mr. Lincoln?" asked Stephen. + +"Pick out the ugliest man in the room. There ain't nobody I kin think of +uglier than Abe." + +Bearing in mind this succinct description of the candidate, Stephen +climbed the rickety stairs to the low second story. All the bedroom doors +were flung open except one, on which the number 7 was inscribed. From +within came bursts of uproarious laughter, and a summons to enter. + +He pushed open the door, and as soon as his eyes became, accustomed to +the tobacco smoke, he surveyed the room. There was a bowl on the floor, +the chair where it belonged being occupied. There was a very inhospitable +looking bed, two shake-downs, and four Windsor chairs in more or less +state of dilapidation--all occupied likewise. A country glass lamp was +balanced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat absorbed in +making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise around him. Every +gentleman in the room was collarless, coatless, tieless, and vestless. +Some were engaged in fighting gnats and June bugs, while others battled +with mosquitoes--all save the young man who wrote, he being wholly +indifferent. + +Stephen picked out the homeliest man in the room. There was no mistaking +him. And, instead of a discussion of the campaign with the other +gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln was defending what do you think? Mr. Lincoln was +defending an occasional and judicious use of swear words. + +"Judge," said he, "you do an almighty lot of cussing in your speeches, +and perhaps it ain't a bad way to keep things stirred up." + +"Well," said the Judge, "a fellow will rip out something once in a while +before he has time to shut it off." + +Mr. Lincoln passed his fingers through his tousled hair. His thick lower +lip crept over in front of the upper one, A gleam stirred in the deep-set +gray eyes. + +"Boys," he asked, "did I ever tell you about Sam'l, the old Quaker's +apprentice?" + +There was a chorus of "No's" and "Go ahead, Abe?" The young man who was +writing dropped his pencil. As for Stephen, this long, uncouth man of the +plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude features and +deep furrows, relaxed into intense soberness. And Mr. Lincoln began his +story with a slow earnestness that was truly startling, considering the +subject. + +"This apprentice, Judge, was just such an incurable as you." (Laughter.) +"And Sam'l, when he wanted to, could get out as many cusses in a second +as his anvil shot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him nights +and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it didn't do +any good. When anything went wrong, Sam'l had an appropriate word for the +occasion. One day the old man got an inspiration when he was scratching +around in the dirt for an odd-sized iron. + +"'Sam'l,' says he, 'I want thee.' + +"Sam'l went, and found the old man standing over a big rat hole, where +the rats came out to feed on the scraps. + +"'Sam'l,' says he, 'fetch the tongs.' + +"Sam'l fetched the tongs. + +"'Now, Sam'l,' says the old man, 'thou wilt sit here until thou hast a +rat. Never mind thy dinner. And when thou hast him, if I hear thee swear, +thou wilt sit here until thou hast another. Dost thou mind?'" + +Here Mr. Lincoln seized two cotton umbrellas, rasped his chair over the +bare boor into a corner of the room, and sat hunched over an imaginary +rat hole, for all the world like a gawky Quaker apprentice. And this was +a candidate for the Senate of the United States, who on the morrow was to +meet in debate the renowned and polished Douglas! + +"Well," Mr. Lincoln continued, "that was on a Monday, I reckon, and the +boys a-shouting to have their horses shod. Maybe you think they didn't +have some fun with Sam'l. But Sam'l sat there, and sat there, and sat +there, and after a while the old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l +never opened his mouth. First thing you know, snip went the tongs." Mr. +Lincoln turned gravely around. "What do you reckon Sam'l said, Judge?" + +The Judge, at random, summoned up a good one, to the delight of the +audience. + +"Judge," said Mr. Lincoln, with solemnity, "I reckon that's what you'd +have said. Sam'l never said a word, and the old man kept on eating his +dinner. One o'clock came, and the folks began to drop in again, but +Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the +door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up." +Here Mr. Lincoln bent forward a little, and his voice fell to a loud, +drawling whisper. "First thing you know, here come the whiskers peeping +up, then the pink eyes a--blinking at the forge, then--!" + +"Suddenly he brought the umbrellas together with whack. + +"'By God,' yells Sam'l, 'I have thee at last!'" + +Amid the shouts, Mr. Lincoln stood up, his long body swaying to and fro +as he lifted high the improvised tongs. They heard a terrified squeal, +and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,--it seemed before their +very eyes. And Stephen forgot the country tavern, the country politician, +and was transported straightway into the Quaker's smithy. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +IN WHICH STEPHEN LEARNS SOMETHING + +It was Mr. Lincoln who brought him back. The astonishing candidate for +the Senate had sunk into his chair, his face relaxed into sadness save +for the sparkle lurking in the eyes. So he sat, immobile, until the +laughter had died down to silence. Then he turned to Stephen. + +"Sonny," he said, "did you want to see me?" + +Stephen was determined to be affable and kind, and (shall we say it?) he +would not make Mr. Lincoln uncomfortable either by a superiority of +English or the certain frigidity of manner which people in the West said +he had. But he tried to imagine a Massachusetts senator, Mr. Sumner, for +instance, going through the rat story, and couldn't. Somehow, +Massachusetts senators hadn't this gift. And yet he was not quite sure +that it wasn't a fetching gift. Stephen did not quite like to be called +"Sonny." But he looked into two gray eyes, and at the face, and something +curious happened to him. How was he to know that thousands of his +countrymen were to experience the same sensation? + +"Sonny," said Mr. Lincoln again, "did you want to see me?" + +"Yes, sir." Stephen wondered at the "sir." It had been involuntary. He +drew from his inner pocket the envelope which the Judge had given him. + +Mr. Lincoln ripped it open. A document fell out, and a letter. He put the +document in his tall hat, which was upside down on the floor. As he got +deeper into the letter, he pursed his mouth, and the lines of his face +deepened in a smile. Then he looked up, grave again. + +Judge Whipple told you to run till you found me, did he, Mr. Brice?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is the Judge the same old criss-cross, contrary, violent fool that he +always was?" + +Providence put an answer in Stephen's mouth. + +"He's been very good to me, Mr. Lincoln." + +Mr. Lincoln broke into laughter. + +"Why, he's the biggest-hearted man I know. You know him, Oglesby,--Silas +Whipple. But a man has to be a Daniel or a General Putnam to venture into +that den of his. There's only one man in the world who can beard Silas, +and he's the finest states-right Southern gentleman you ever saw. I mean +Colonel Carvel. You've heard of him, Oglesby. Don't they quarrel once in +a while, Mr. Brice?" + +"They do have occasional arguments,' said Stephen, amused. + +"Arguments!" cried Mr. Lincoln; "well, I couldn't come as near to +fighting every day and stand it. If my dog and Bill's dog across the +street walked around each other and growled for half a day, and then lay +down together, as Carvel and Whipple do, by Jing, I'd put pepper on their +noses--" + +"I reckon Colonel Carvel isn't a fighting man," said some one, at random. + +Strangely enough, Stephen was seized with a desire to vindicate the +Colonel's courage. Both Mr. Lincoln and Judge Oglesby forestalled him. + +"Not a fighting man!" exclaimed the Judge. "Why, the other day--" + +"Now, Oglesby," put in Mr. Lincoln, "I wanted to tell that story." + +Stephen had heard it, and so have we. But Mr. Lincoln's imitation of the +Colonel's drawl brought him a pang like homesickness. + +"'No, suh, I didn't intend to shoot. Not if he had gone off straight. But +he wriggled and twisted like a rattlesnake, and I just couldn't resist, +suh. Then I sent m'nigger Ephum to tell him not to let me catch sight of +him 'round the Planters' House. Yes, suh, that's what he was. One of +these damned Yankees who come South and go into nigger-deals and +politics."' + +Mr. Lincoln glanced at Stephen, and then again at the Judge's letter. He +took up his silk hat and thrust that, too, into the worn lining, which +was already filled with papers. He clapped the hat on his head, and +buttoned on his collar. + +"I reckon I'll go for a walk, boys," he said, "and clear my head, so as +to be ready for the Little Giant to-morrow at Freeport. Mr. Brice, do you +feel like walking?" + +Stephen, taken aback, said that he did. + +"Now, Abe, this is just durned foolishness," one of the gentlemen +expostulated. "We want to know if you're going to ask Douglas that +question." + +"If you do, you kill yourself, Lincoln," said another, who Stephen +afterwards learned was Mr. Medill, proprietor of the great 'Press and +Tribune'. + +"I guess I'll risk it, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, gravely. Suddenly comes +the quiver about the corners of his mouth and the gray eyes respond. +"Boys," said he, "did you ever hear the story of farmer Bell, down in +Egypt? I'll tell it to you, boys, and then perhaps you'll know why I'll +ask Judge Douglas that question. Farmer Bell had the prize Bartlett pear +tree, and the prettiest gal in that section. And he thought about the +same of each of 'em. All the boys were after Sue Bell. But there was only +one who had any chance of getting her, and his name was Jim Rickets. Jim +was the handsomest man in that section. He's been hung since. But Jim had +a good deal out of life,--all the appetites, and some of the +gratifications. He liked Sue, and he liked a luscious Bartlett. And he +intended to have both. And it just so happened that that prize pear tree +had a whopper on that year, and old man Bell couldn't talk of anything +else. + +"Now there was an ugly galoot whose name isn't worth mentioning. He knew +he wasn't in any way fit for Sue, and he liked pears about as well as Jim +Rickets. Well, one night here comes Jim along the road, whistling; to +court Susan, and there was the ugly galoot a-yearning on the bank under +the pear tree. Jim was all fixed up, and he says to the galoot, 'Let's +have a throw.' Now the galoot knew old Bell was looking over the fence So +he says, 'All right,' and he gives Jim the first shot--Jim fetched down +the big pear, got his teeth in it, and strolled off to the house, kind of +pitiful of the galoot for a, half-witted ass. When he got to the door, +there was the old man. 'What are you here for?' says he. 'Why,' says +Rickets, in his off-hand way, for he always had great confidence, 'to +fetch Sue.'" + +"The old man used to wear brass toes to keep his boots from wearing out," +said Mr. Lincoln, dreamily. + +"You see," continued Mr. Lincoln, "you see the galoot knew that Jim +Rickets wasn't to be trusted with Susan Bell." + +Some of the gentlemen appeared to see the point of this political +parable, for they laughed uproariously. The others laughed, too. Then +they slapped their knees, looked at Mr. Lincoln's face, which was +perfectly sober, and laughed again, a little fainter. Then the Judge +looked as solemn as his title. + +"It won't do, Abe," said he. "You commit suicide." + +"You'd better stick to the pear, Abe," said Mr. Medill, "and fight +Stephen A. Douglas here and now. This isn't any picnic. Do you know who +he is?" + +"Why, yes, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, amiably. "He's a man with tens of +thousands of blind followers. It's my business to make some of those +blind followers see." + +By this time Stephen was burning to know the question that Mr. Lincoln +wished to ask the Little Giant, and why the other gentlemen were against +it. But Mr. Lincoln surprised him still further in taking him by the arm. +Turning to the young reporter, Mr. Hill, who had finished his writing, he +said: + +"Bob, a little air will do you good. I've had enough of the old boys for +a while, and I'm going to talk to somebody any own age." + +Stephen was halfway down the corridor when he discovered that he had +forgotten his hat. As he returned he heard somebody say: + +"If that ain't just like Abe. He stopped to pull a flea out of his +stocking when he was going to fight that duel with Shields, and now he's +walking with boys before a debate with the smartest man in this country. +And there's heaps of things he ought to discuss with us." + +"Reckon we haven't got much to do with it," said another, half laughing, +half rueful. "There's some things Abe won't stand." + +From the stairs Stephen saw Mr. Lincoln threading his way through the +crowd below, laughing at one, pausing to lay his hand on the shoulder of +another, and replying to a rough sally of a third to make the place a +tumult of guffaws. But none had the temerity to follow him. When Stephen +caught up with him in the little country street, he was talking earnestly +to Mr. Hill, the young reporter of the Press and Tribune. And what do you +think was the subject? The red comet in the sky that night. Stephen kept +pace in silence with Mr. Lincoln's strides, another shock in store for +him. This rail-splitter, this postmaster, this flat-boatman, whom he had +not credited with a knowledge of the New Code, was talking Astronomy. And +strange to say, Mr. Brice was learning. + +"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "can you elucidate the problem of the three +bodies?" + +To Stephen's surprise, Mr. Hill elucidated. + +The talk then fell upon novels and stories, a few of which Mr. Lincoln +seemed to have read. He spoke, among others, of the "Gold Bug." "The +story is grand," said he, "but it might as well have been written of +Robinson Crusoe's island. What a fellow wants in a book is to know where +he is. There are not many novels, or ancient works for that matter, that +put you down anywhere." + +"There is that genuine fragment which Cicero has preserved from a last +work of Aristotle," said Mr. Hill, slyly. "'If there were beings who +lived in the depths & the earth, and could emerge through the open +fissures, and could suddenly behold the earth, the sea, and the:--vault +of heaven--'" + +"But you--you impostor," cried Mr. Lincoln, interrupting, "you're giving +us Humboldt's Cosmos." + +Mr. Hill owned up, laughing. + +It is remarkable how soon we accustom ourselves to a strange situation. +And to Stephen it was no less strange to be walking over a muddy road of +the prairie with this most singular man and a newspaper correspondent, +than it might have been to the sub-terrestrial inhabitant to emerge on +the earth's surface. Stephen's mind was in the process of a chemical +change: Suddenly it seemed to him as if he had known this tall Illinoisan +always. The whim of the senatorial candidate in choosing him for a +companion he did not then try to account for. + +"Come, Mr. Stephen," said Mr. Lincoln, presently, "where do you hail +from?" + +"Boston," said Stephen. + +"No!" said Mr. Lincoln, incredulously. "And how does it happen that you +come to me with a message from a rank Abolitionist lawyer in St. Louis?" + +"Is the Judge a friend of yours, sir?" Stephen asked. + +"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lincoln, "didn't he tell you he was?" + +"He said nothing at all, sir, except to tell me to travel until I found +you." + +"I call the Judge a friend of mine," said Mr. Lincoln. "He may not claim +me because I do not believe in putting all slave-owners to the sword." + +"I do not think that Judge Whipple is precisely an Abolitionist, sir." + +"What! And how do you feel, Mr. Stephen?" + +Stephen replied in figures. It was rare with him, and he must have caught +it from Mr. Lincoln. + +"I am not for ripping out the dam suddenly, sir, that would drown the +nation. I believe that the water can be drained off in some other way." + +Mr. Lincoln's direct answer to this was to give Stephen stinging slap +between the shoulder-blades. + +"God bless the boy!" he cried. "He has thought it out. Bob, take that +down for the Press and Tribune as coming from a rising young politician +of St. Louis." + +"Why," Stephen blurted out, "I--I thought you were an Abolitionist, Mr. +Lincoln." + +"Mr. Brice," said Mr. Lincoln, "I have as much use for the Boston +Liberator as I have for the Charleston Courier. You may guess how much +that is. The question is not whether we shall or shall not have slavery, +but whether slavery shall stay where it is, or be extended according to +Judge Douglas's ingenious plan. The Judge is for breeding worms. I am for +cauterizing the sore so that it shall not spread. But I tell you, Mr. +Brice, that this nation cannot exist half slave and half free." + +Was it the slap on the back that opened Stephen's eyes? It was certain +that as they returned to the tavern the man at his side was changed. He +need not have felt chagrined. Men in high places underestimated Lincoln, +or did not estimate him at all. Affection came first. The great warm +heart had claimed Stephen as it claimed all who came near it. + +The tavern was deserted save for a few stragglers. Under the dim light at +the bar Mr. Lincoln took off his hat and drew the Judge's letter from the +lining. + +"Mr. Stephen," said he, "would you like to come to Freeport with me +to-morrow and hear the debate?" + +An hour earlier he would have declined with thanks. But now! Now his face +lighted at the prospect, and suddenly fell again. Mr. Lincoln guessed the +cause. He laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, and laughed. + +"I reckon you're thinking of what the Judge will say." + +Stephen smiled. + +"I'll take care of the Judge," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not afraid of him." +He drew forth from the inexhaustible hat a slip of paper, and began to +write. + +"There," said he, when he had finished, "a friend of mine is going to +Springfield in the morning, and he'll send that to the Judge." + +And this is what he had written:-- + + "I have borrowed Steve for a day or two, and guarantee + to return him a good Republican. + A. LINCOLN." + +It is worth remarking that this was the first time Mr. Brice had been +called "Steve" and had not resented it. + +Stephen was embarrassed. He tried to thank Mr. Lincoln, but that +gentleman's quizzical look cut him short. And the next remark made him +gasp. + +"Look here, Steve," said he, "you know a parlor from a drawing-room. What +did you think of me when you saw me to-night?" + +Stephen blushed furiously, and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. + +"I'll tell you," said Mr. Lincoln, with his characteristic smile, "you +thought that you wouldn't pick me out of a bunch of horses to race with +the Senator." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE QUESTION + +Many times since Abraham Lincoln has been called to that mansion which +God has reserved for the patriots who have served Him also, Stephen Brice +has thought of that steaming night in the low-ceiled room of the country +tavern, reeking with the smell of coarse food and hot humanity. He +remembers vividly how at first his gorge rose, and recalls how gradually +there crept over him a forgetfulness of the squalidity and discomfort. +Then came a space gray with puzzling wonder. Then the dawning of a +worship for a very ugly man in a rumpled and ill-made coat. + +You will perceive that there was hope for Stephen. On his shake-down that +night, oblivious to the snores of his companions and the droning of the +insects, he lay awake. And before his eyes was that strange, marked face, +with its deep lines that blended both humor and sadness there. It was +homely, and yet Stephen found himself reflecting that honesty was just as +homely, and plain truth. And yet both were beautiful to those who had +learned to love them. Just so this Mr. Lincoln. + +He fell asleep wondering why Judge Whipple had sent him. + +It was in accord with nature that reaction came with the morning. Such a +morning, and such a place! + +He was awakened, shivering, by the beat of rain on the roof, and +stumbling over the prostrate forms of the four Beaver brothers, reached +the window. Clouds filled the sky, and Joshway, whose pallet was under +the sill, was in a blessed state of moisture. + +No wonder some of his enthusiasm had trickled away! + +He made his toilet in the wet under the pump outside; where he had to +wait his turn. And he rather wished he were going back to St. Louis. He +had an early breakfast of fried eggs and underdone bacon, and coffee +which made him pine for Hester's. The dishes were neither too clean nor +too plentiful, being doused in water as soon as ever they were out of +use. + +But after breakfast the sun came out, and a crowd collected around the +tavern, although the air was chill and the muck deep in the street. +Stephen caught glimpses of Mr. Lincoln towering above the knots of +country politicians who surrounded him, and every once in a while a knot +would double up with laughter. There was no sign that the senatorial +aspirant took the situation seriously; that the coming struggle with his +skilful antagonist was weighing him down in the least. Stephen held aloof +from the groups, thinking that Mr. Lincoln had forgotten him. He decided +to leave for St. Louis on the morning train, and was even pushing toward +the tavern entrance with his bag in his hand, when he was met by Mr. +Hill. + +"I had about given you up, Mr. Brice," he said. "Mr. Lincoln asked me to +get hold of you, and bring you to him alive or dead." + +Accordingly Stephen was led to the station, where a long train of twelve +cars was pulled up, covered with flags and bunting. On entering one of +these, he perceived Mr. Lincoln sprawled (he could think of no other word +to fit the attitude) on a seat next the window, and next him was Mr. +Medill of the Press and Tribune. The seat just in front was reserved for +Mr. Hill, who was to make any notes necessary. Mr. Lincoln looked up. His +appearance was even less attractive than the night before, as he had on a +dirty gray linen duster. + +"I thought you'd got loose, Steve," he said, holding out his hand. "Glad +to see you. Just you sit down there next to Bob, where I can talk to +you." + +Stephen sat down, diffident, for he knew that there were others in that +train who would give ten years of their lives for that seat. + +"I've taken a shine to this Bostonian, Joe," said Mr Lincoln to Mr. +Medill. "We've got to catch 'em young to do anything with 'em, you know. +Now, Steve, just give me a notion how politics are over in St. Louis. +What do they think of our new Republican party? Too bran new for old St. +Louis, eh?" + +Stephen saw expostulation in Mr. Medill's eyes, and hesitated. And Mr. +Lincoln seemed to feel Medill's objections, as by mental telepathy. But +he said:-- "We'll come to that little matter later, Joe, when the cars +start." + +Naturally, Stephen began uneasily. But under the influence of that kindly +eye he thawed, and forgot himself. He felt that this man was not one to +feign an interest. The shouts of the people on the little platform +interrupted the account, and the engine staggered off with its load. + +"I reckon St. Louis is a nest of Southern Democrats," Mr. Lincoln +remarked, "and not much opposition." + +"There are quite a few Old Line Whigs, sir," ventured Stephen, smiling. + +"Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, "did you ever hear Warfield's definition of an +Old Line Whig?" + +Mr. Medill had not. + +"A man who takes his toddy regularly, and votes the Democratic ticket +occasionally, and who wears ruffled shirts." + +Both of these gentlemen laughed, and two more in the seat behind, who had +an ear to the conversation. + +"But, sir," said Stephen, seeing that he was expected to go on, "I think +that the Republican party will gather a considerable strength there in +another year or two. We have the material for powerful leaders in Mr. +Blair and others" (Mr. Lincoln nodded at the name). "We are getting an +ever increasing population from New England, mostly of young men who will +take kindly to the new party." And then he added, thinking of his +pilgrimage the Sunday before: "South St. Louis is a solid mass of +Germans, who are all antislavery. But they are very foreign still, and +have all their German institutions." + +"The Turner Halls?" Mr. Lincoln surprised him by inquiring. + +"Yes. And I believe that they drill there." + +"Then they will the more easily be turned into soldiers if the time +should come," said Mr. Lincoln. And he added quickly, "I pray that it may +not." + +Stephen had cause to remember that observation, and the acumen it showed, +long afterward. + +The train made several stops, and at each of them shoals of country +people filled the aisles, and paused for a most familiar chat with the +senatorial candidate. Many called him Abe. His appearance was the equal +in roughness to theirs, his manner if anything was more democratic,--yet +in spite of all this Stephen in them detected a deference which might +almost be termed a homage. There were many women among them. Had our +friend been older, he might have known that the presence of good women in +a political crowd portends something. As it was, he was surprised. He was +destined to be still more surprised that day. + +When they had left behind them the shouts of the little down of Dixon, +Mr. Lincoln took off his hat, and produced a crumpled and not too +immaculate scrap of paper from the multitude therein. + +"Now, Joe," said he, "here are the four questions I intend to ask Judge +Douglas. I am ready for you. Fire away." + +"We don't care anything about the others," answered Mr. Medill. "But I +tell you this. If you ask that second one, you'll never see the United +States Senate." + +"And the Republican party in this state will have had a blow from which +it can scarcely recover," added Mr. Judd, chairman of the committee. + +Mr. Lincoln did not appear to hear them. His eyes were far away over the +wet prairie. + +Stephen held his breath. But neither he, nor Medill, nor Judd, nor Hill +guessed at the pregnancy of that moment. How were they to know that the +fate of the United States of America was concealed in that Question, +--was to be decided on a rough wooden platform that day in the town of +Freeport, Illinois? + +But Abraham Lincoln, the uncouth man in the linen duster with the tousled +hair, knew it. And the stone that was rejected of the builders was to +become the corner-stone of the temple. + +Suddenly Mr. Lincoln recalled himself, glanced at the paper, and cleared +his throat. In measured tones, plainly heard above the rush and roar of +the train, he read the Question: + + "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way, + against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude + slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State + Constitution?" + +Mr. Medill listened intently. + +"Abe," said he, solemnly, "Douglas will answer yes, or equivocate, and +that is all the assurance these Northern Democrats want to put Steve +Douglas in the Senate. They'll snow you under." + +"All right," answered Mr. Lincoln, quietly. + +"All right?" asked Mr. Medill, reflecting the sheer astonishment of the +others; "then why the devil are you wearing yourself out? And why are we +spending our time and money on you?" + +Mr. Lincoln laid his hand on Medill's sleeve. + +"Joe," said he, "a rat in the larder is easier to catch than a rat that +has the run of the cellar. You know, where to set your trap in the +larder. I'll tell you why I'm in this campaign: to catch Douglas now, and +keep him out of the White House in 1860. To save this country of ours, +Joe. She's sick." + +There was a silence, broken by two exclamations. + +"But see here, Abe," said Mr. Medill, as soon as ever he got his breath, +"what have we got to show for it? Where do you come in?" + +Mr. Lincoln smiled wearily. + +"Nowhere, I reckon," he answered simply. + +"Good Lord!" said Mr. Judd. + +Mr. Medill gulped. + +"You mean to say, as the candidate of the Republican party, you don't +care whether you get to the Senate?" + +"Not if I can send Steve Douglas there with his wings broken," was the +calm reply. + +"Suppose he does answer yes, that slavery can be excluded?" said Mr. +Judd. + +"Then," said Mr. Lincoln, "then Douglas loses the vote of the great +slave-holders, the vote of the solid South, that he has been fostering +ever since he has had the itch to be President. Without the solid South +the Little Giant will never live in the White House. And unless I'm +mightily mistaken, Steve Douglas has had his aye as far ahead as 1860 for +some time." + +Another silence followed these words. There was a stout man standing in +the aisle, and he spat deftly out of the open window. + +"You may wing Steve Douglas, Abe," said he, gloomily, "but the gun will +kick you over the bluff." + +"Don't worry about me, Ed," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not worth it." + +In a wave of comprehension the significance of all this was revealed to +Stephen Brice, The grim humor, the sagacious statesmanship, and (best of +all)--the superb self sacrifice of it, struck him suddenly. I think it +was in that hour that he realized the full extent of the wisdom he was +near, which was like unto Solomon's. + +Shame surged in Stephen's face that he should have misjudged him. He had +come to patronize. He had remained to worship. And in after years, when +he thought of this new vital force which became part of him that day, it +was in the terms of Emerson: "Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, +and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every +pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be +misunderstood." + +How many have conversed with Lincoln before and since, and knew him not! + +If an outward and visible sign of Mr. Lincoln's greatness were needed, +--he had chosen to speak to them in homely parables. The story of Farmer +Bell was plain as day. Jim Rickets, who had life all his own way, was +none other than Stephen A. Douglas, the easily successful. The ugly +galoot, who dared to raise his eyes only to the pear, was Mr. Lincoln +himself. And the pear was the Senatorship, which the galoot had denied +himself to save Susan from being Mr. Rickets' bride. + +Stephen could understand likewise the vehemence of the Republican leaders +who crowded around their candidate and tried to get him to retract that +Question. He listened quietly, he answered with a patient smile. Now and +then he threw a story into the midst of this discussion which made them +laugh in spite of themselves. The hopelessness of the case was quite +plain to Mr. Hill, who smiled, and whispered in Stephen's ear: "He has +made up his mind. They will not budge him an inch, and they know it." + +Finally Mr. Lincoln took the scrap of paper, which was even more dirty +and finger-marked by this time, and handed it to Mr. Hill. The train was +slowing down for Freeport. In the distance, bands could be heard playing, +and along the track, line upon line of men and women were cheering and +waving. It was ten o'clock, raw and cold for that time of the year, and +the sun was trying to come out. + +"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "be sure you get that right in your notes. And, +Steve, you stick close to me, and you'll see the show. Why, boys," he +added, smiling, "there's the great man's private car, cannon and all." + +All that Stephen saw was a regular day-car on a sidetrack. A brass cannon +was on the tender hitched behind it. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CRISIS + +Stephen A. Douglas, called the Little Giant on account of his intellect, +was a type of man of which our race has had some notable examples, +although they are not characteristic. Capable of sacrifice to their +country, personal ambition is, nevertheless, the mainspring of their +actions. They must either be before the public, or else unhappy. This +trait gives them a large theatrical strain, and sometimes brands them as +adventurers. Their ability saves them from being demagogues. + +In the case of Douglas, he had deliberately renewed some years before the +agitation on the spread of slavery, by setting forth a doctrine of +extreme cleverness. This doctrine, like many others of its kind, seemed +at first sight to be the balm it pretended, instead of an irritant, as it +really was. It was calculated to deceive all except thinking men, and to +silence all save a merciless logician. And this merciless logician, who +was heaven-sent in time of need, was Abraham Lincoln. + +Mr. Douglas was a juggler, a political prestidigitateur. He did things +before the eyes of the Senate and the nation. His balm for the healing of +the nation's wounds was a patent medicine so cleverly concocted that +experts alone could show what was in it. So abstruse and twisted were +some of Mr. Douglas's doctrines that a genius alone might put them into +simple words, for the common people. + +The great panacea for the slavery trouble put forth by Mr. Douglas at +that time was briefly this: that the people of the new territories should +decide for themselves, subject to the Constitution, whether they should +have slavery or not, and also decide for themselves all other questions +under the Constitution. Unhappily for Mr. Douglas, there was the famous +Dred Scott decision, which had set the South wild with joy the year +before, and had cast a gloom over the North. The Chief Justice of the +United States had declared that under the Constitution slaves were +property,--and as such every American citizen owning slaves could carry +them about with him wherever he went. Therefore the territorial +legislatures might pass laws until they were dumb, and yet their settlers +might bring with them all the slaves they pleased. + +And yet we must love the Judge. He was a gentleman, a strong man, and a +patriot. He was magnanimous, and to his immortal honor be it said that +he, in the end, won the greatest of all struggles. He conquered himself. +He put down that mightiest thing that was in him,--his ambition for +himself. And he set up, instead, his ambition for his country. He bore no +ill-will toward the man whose fate was so strangely linked to his, and +who finally came to that high seat of honor and of martyrdom which he +coveted. We shall love the Judge, and speak of him with reverence, for +that sublime act of kindness before the Capitol in 1861. + +Abraham Lincoln might have prayed on that day of the Freeport debate: + +"Forgive him, Lord. He knows not what he does." Lincoln descried the +danger afar, and threw his body into the breach. + +That which passed before Stephen's eyes, and to which his ears listened +at Freeport, was the Great Republic pressing westward to the Pacific. He +wondered whether some of his Eastern friends who pursed their lips when +the Wrest was mentioned would have sneered or prayed. A young English +nobleman who was there that day did not sneer. He was filled instead with +something like awe at the vigor of this nation which was sprung from the +loins of his own. Crudeness he saw, vulgarity he heard, but Force he +felt, and marvelled. + +America was in Freeport that day, the rush of her people and the surprise +of her climate. The rain had ceased, and quickly was come out of the +northwest a boisterous wind, chilled by the lakes and scented by the +hemlocks of the Minnesota forests. The sun smiled and frowned Clouds +hurried in the sky, mocking the human hubbub below. Cheering thousands +pressed about the station as Mr. Lincoln's train arrived. They hemmed him +in his triumphal passage under the great arching trees to the new +Brewster House. The Chief Marshal and his aides, great men before, were +suddenly immortal. The county delegations fell into their proper +precedence like ministers at a state dinner. "We have faith in Abraham, +Yet another County for the Rail-sputter, Abe the Giant-killer,"--so the +banners read. Here, much bedecked, was the Galena Lincoln Club, part of +Joe Davies's shipment. Fifes skirled, and drums throbbed, and the stars +and stripes snapped in the breeze. And here was a delegation headed by +fifty sturdy ladies on horseback, at whom Stephen gaped like a +countryman. Then came carryalls of all ages and degrees, wagons from this +county and that county, giddily draped, drawn by horses from one to six, +or by mules, their inscriptions addressing their senatorial candidate in +all degrees of familiarity, but not contempt. What they seemed proudest +of was that he had been a rail-splitter, for nearly all bore a +fence-rail. + +But stay, what is this wagon with the high sapling flagstaff in the +middle, and the leaves still on it? + + "Westward the Star of Empire takes its way. + The girls link on to Lincoln; their mothers were for Clay." + +Here was glory to blind you,--two and thirty maids in red sashes and blue +liberty caps with white stars. Each was a state of the Union, and every +one of them was for Abraham, who called them his "Basket of Flowers." +Behind them, most touching of all, sat a thirty-third shackled in chains. +That was Kansas. Alas, the men of Kansas was far from being as sorrowful +as the part demanded,--in spite of her instructions she would smile at +the boys. But the appealing inscription she bore, "Set me free" was +greeted with storms of laughter, the boldest of the young men shouting +that she was too beautiful to be free, and some of the old men, to their +shame be it said likewise shouted. No false embarrassment troubled +Kansas. She was openly pleased. But the young men who had brought their +sweethearts to town, and were standing hand in hand with them, for +obvious reasons saw nothing: They scarcely dared to look at Kansas, and +those who did were so loudly rebuked that they turned down the side +streets. + +During this part of the day these loving couples, whose devotion was so +patent to the whole world, were by far the most absorbing to Stephen. He +watched them having their fortunes told, the young women blushing and +crying, "Say!" and "Ain't he wicked?" and the young men getting their +ears boxed for certain remarks. He watched them standing open-mouthed at +the booths and side shows with hands still locked, or again they were +chewing cream candy in unison. Or he glanced sidewise at them, seated in +the open places with the world so far below them that even the insistent +sound of the fifes and drums rose but faintly to their ears. + +And perhaps,--we shall not say positively,--perhaps Mr. Brice's thoughts +went something like this, "O that love were so simple a matter to all!" +But graven on his face was what is called the "Boston scorn." And no +scorn has been known like unto it since the days of Athens. + +So Stephen made the best of his way to the Brewster House, the elegance +and newness of which the citizens of Freeport openly boasted. Mr. Lincoln +had preceded him, and was even then listening to a few remarks of burning +praise by an honorable gentleman. Mr. Lincoln himself made a few remarks, +which seemed so simple and rang so true, and were so free from political +rococo and decoration generally, that even the young men forgot their +sweethearts to listen. Then Mr. Lincoln went into the hotel, and the sun +slipped under a black cloud. + +The lobby was full, and rather dirty, since the supply of spittoons was +so far behind the demand. Like the firmament, it was divided into little +bodies which revolved about larger bodies. But there lacked not here +supporters of the Little Giant, and discreet farmers of influence in +their own counties who waited to hear the afternoon's debate before +deciding. These and others did not hesitate to tell of the magnificence +of the Little Giant's torchlight procession the previous evening. Every +Dred-Scottite had carried a torch, and many transparencies, so that the +very glory of it had turned night into day. The Chief Lictor had +distributed these torches with an unheard-of liberality. But there lacked +not detractors who swore that John Dibble and other Lincolnites had +applied for torches for the mere pleasure of carrying them. Since dawn +the delegations had been heralded from the house-tops, and wagered on +while they were yet as worms far out or the prairie. All the morning +these continued to came in, and form in line to march past their +particular candidate. The second great event of the day was the event of +the special over the Galena roar, of sixteen cars and more than a +thousand pairs of sovereign lungs. With military precision they repaired +to the Brewster House, and ahead of then a banner was flung: "Winnebago +County for the Tall Sucker." And the Tall Sucker was on the steps to +receive them. + +But Mr. Douglas, who had arrived the evening before to the booming of two +and thirty guns, had his banners end his bunting, too. The neighborhood +of Freeport was stronghold of Northern Democrats, ardent supporters of +the Little Giant if once they could believe that he did not intend to +betray them. + +Stephen felt in his bones the coming of a struggle, and was thrilled. +Once he smiled at the thought that he had become an active partisan--nay, +a worshipper--of the uncouth Lincoln. Terrible suspicion for a +Bostonian,--had he been carried away? Was his hero, after all, a homespun +demagogue? Had he been wise in deciding before he had taught a glimpse of +the accomplished Douglas, whose name end fame filled the land? Stephen +did not waver in his allegiance. But in his heart there lurked a fear of +the sophisticated Judge and Senator and man of the world whom he had not +yet seen. In his notebook he had made a, copy of the Question, and young +Mr. Hill discovered him pondering in a corner of the lobby at dinnertime. +After dinner they went together to their candidate's room. They found the +doors open and the place packed, and there was Mr. Lincoln's very tall +hat towering above those of the other politicians pressed around him. Mr. +Lincoln took three strides in Stephen's direction and seized him by the +shoulder. + +"Why, Steve," said he, "I thought you had got away again." Turning to a +big burly man with a good-natures face, who was standing by, he added. +"Jim, I want you to look out for this young man. Get him a seat on the +stands where he can hear." + +Stephen stuck close to Jim. He never knew what the gentleman's last name +was, or whether he had any. It was but a few minutes' walk to the grove +where the speaking was to be. And as they made their way thither Mr. +Lincoln passed them in a Conestoga wagon drawn by six milk-white horses. +Jim informed Stephen that the Little Giant had had a six-horse coach. The +grove was black with people. Hovering about the hem of the crowd were the +sunburned young men in their Sunday best, still clinging fast to the +hands of the young women. Bands blared "Columbia, Gem of the Ocean." +Fakirs planted their stands in the way, selling pain-killers and ague +cures, watermelons and lemonade, Jugglers juggled, and beggars begged. +Jim said that there were sixteen thousand people in that grove. And he +told the truth. + +Stephen now trembled for his champion. He tried to think of himself as +fifty years old, with the courage to address sixteen thousand people on +such a day, and quailed. What a man of affairs it must take to do that! +Sixteen thousand people, into each of whose breasts God had put different +emotions and convictions. He had never even imagined such a crowd as this +assembles merely to listen to a political debate. But then he remembered, +as they dodged from in front of the horses, what it was not merely a +political debate: The pulse of nation was here, a great nation stricken +with approaching fever. It was not now a case of excise, but of +existence. + +This son of toil who had driven his family thirty miles across the +prairie, blanketed his tired horses and slept on the ground the night +before, who was willing to stand all through the afternoon and listen +with pathetic eagerness to this debate, must be moved by a patriotism +divine. In the breast of that farmer, in the breast of his tired wife who +held her child by the hand, had been instilled from birth that sublime +fervor which is part of their life who inherit the Declaration of +Independence. Instinctively these men who had fought and won the West had +scented the danger. With the spirit of their ancestors who had left their +farms to die on the bridge at Concord, or follow Ethan Allen into +Ticonderoga, these had come to Freeport. What were three days of bodily +discomfort! What even the loss of part of a cherished crop, if the +nation's existence were at stake and their votes might save it! + +In the midst of that heaving human sea rose the bulwarks of a wooden +stand. But how to reach it? Jim was evidently a personage. The rough +farmers commonly squeezed a way for him. And when they did not, he made +it with his big body. As they drew near their haven, a great surging as +of a tidal wave swept them off their feet. There was a deafening shout, +and the stand rocked on its foundations. Before Stephen could collect his +wits, a fierce battle was raging about him. Abolitionist and Democrat, +Free Soiler and Squatter Sov, defaced one another in a rush for the +platform. The committeemen and reporters on top of it rose to its +defence. Well for Stephen that his companion was along. Jim was +recognized and hauled bodily into the fort, and Stephen after him. The +populace were driven off, and when the excitement died down again, he +found himself in the row behind the reporters. Young Mr. Hill paused +while sharpening his pencil to wave him a friendly greeting. + +Stephen, craning in his seat, caught sight of Mr. Lincoln slouched into +one of his favorite attitudes, his chin resting in his hand. + +But who is this, erect, compact, aggressive, searching with a confident +eye the wilderness of upturned faces? A personage, truly, to be +questioned timidly, to be approached advisedly. Here indeed was a lion, +by the very look of him, master of himself and of others. By reason of +its regularity and masculine strength, a handsome face. A man of the +world to the cut of the coat across the broad shoulders. Here was one to +lift a youngster into the realm of emulation, like a character in a play, +to arouse dreams of Washington and its senators and great men. For this +was one to be consulted by the great alone. A figure of dignity and +power, with magnetism to compel moods. Since, when he smiled, you warmed +in spite of yourself, and when he frowned the world looked grave. + +The inevitable comparison was come, and Stephen's hero was shrunk once +more. He drew a deep breath, searched for the word, and gulped. There was +but the one word. How country Abraham Lincoln looked beside Stephen +Arnold Douglas! + +Had the Lord ever before made and set over against each other two such +different men? Yes, for such are the ways of the Lord. + + ........................ + +The preliminary speaking was in progress, but Stephen neither heard nor +saw until he felt the heavy hand of his companion on his knee. + +"There's something mighty strange, like fate, between them two," he was +saying. "I recklect twenty-five years ago when they was first in the +Legislatur' together. A man told me that they was both admitted to +practice in the S'preme Court in '39, on the same day, sir. Then you know +they was nip an' tuck after the same young lady. Abe got her. They've +been in Congress together, the Little Giant in the Senate, and now, here +they be in the greatest set of debates the people of this state ever +heard; Young man, the hand of fate is in this here, mark my words--" + +There was a hush, and the waves of that vast human sea were stilled. A +man, lean, angular, with coat-tail: flapping-unfolded like a grotesque +figure at a side-show. + +No confidence was there. Stooping forward, Abraham Lincoln began to +speak, and Stephen Brice hung his head and shuddered. Could this shrill +falsetto be the same voice to which he had listened only that morning? +Could this awkward, yellow man with his hands behind his back be he whom +he had worshipped? Ripples of derisive laughter rose here and there, on +the stand and from the crowd. Thrice distilled was the agony of those +moments! + +But what was this feeling that gradually crept over him? Surprise? +Cautiously he raised his eyes. The hands were coming around to the front. +Suddenly one of them was thrown sharply back, with a determined gesture, +the head was raised,--and.--and his shame was for gotten. In its stead +wonder was come. But soon he lost even that, for his mind was gone on a +journey. And when again he came to himself and looked upon Abraham +Lincoln, this was a man transformed. The voice was no longer shrill. Nay, +it was now a powerful instrument which played strangely on those who +heard. Now it rose, and again it fell into tones so low as to start a +stir which spread and spread, like a ripple in a pond, until it broke on +the very edge of that vast audience. + + "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way, + against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude + slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State + Constitution?" + +It was out, at last, irrevocably writ in the recording book of History, +for better, for worse. Beyond the reach of politician, committee, or +caucus. But what man amongst those who heard and stirred might say that +these minutes even now basting into eternity held the Crisis of a nation +that is the hope of the world? Not you, Judge Douglas who sit there +smiling. Consternation is a stranger in your heart,--but answer the +question if you can. Yes, your nimble wit has helped you out of many a +tight corner. You do not feel the noose--as yet. You do not guess that +your reply will make or mar the fortunes of your country. It is not you +who can look ahead two short years and see the ship of Democracy +splitting on the rocks at Charleston and at Baltimore, when the power of +your name might have steered her safely. + +But see! what is this man about whom you despise? One by one he is taking +the screws out of the engine which you have invented to run your ship. +Look, he holds them in his hands without mixing them, and shows the false +construction of its secret parts. + +For Abraham Lincoln dealt with abstruse questions in language so limpid +that many a farmer, dulled by toil, heard and understood and marvelled. +The simplicity of the Bible dwells in those speeches, and they are now +classics in our literature. And the wonder in Stephen's mind was that +this man who could be a buffoon, whose speech was coarse and whose person +unkempt, could prove himself a tower of morality and truth. That has +troubled many another, before and since the debate at Freeport. + +That short hour came all too quickly to an end. And as the Moderator gave +the signal for Mr. Lincoln, it was Stephen's big companion who snapped +the strain, and voiced the sentiment of those about him. + +"By Gosh!" he cried, "he baffles Steve. I didn't think Abe had it in +him." + +The Honorable Stephen A. Douglas, however, seemed anything but baffled as +he rose to reply. As he waited for the cheers which greeted him to die +out, his attitude was easy and indifferent, as a public man's should be. +The question seemed not to trouble him in the least. But for Stephen +Brice the Judge stood there stripped of the glamour that made him, even +as Abraham Lincoln had stripped his doctrine of its paint and colors, and +left it punily naked. + +Standing up, the very person of the Little Giant was contradictory, as +was the man himself. His height was insignificant. But he had the head +and shoulders of a lion, and even the lion's roar. What at contrast the +ring of his deep bass to the tentative falsetto of Mr. Lincoln's opening +words. If Stephen expected the Judge to tremble, he was greatly +disappointed. Mr. Douglas was far from dismay. As if to show the people +how lightly he held his opponent's warnings, he made them gape by putting +things down Mr. Lincoln's shirt-front and taking them out of his mouth: +But it appeared to Stephen, listening with all his might, that the Judge +was a trifle more on the defensive than his attitude might lead one to +expect. Was he not among his own Northern Democrats at Freeport? And yet +it seemed to give him a keen pleasure to call his hearers "Black +Republicans." "Not black," came from the crowd again and again, and once +a man: shouted, "Couldn't you modify it and call it brown?" "Not a whit!" +cried the Judge, and dubbed them "Yankees," although himself a Vermonter +by birth. He implied that most of these Black Republicans desired negro +wives. + +But quick,--to the Question, How was the Little Giant, artful in debate +as he was, to get over that without offence to the great South? Very +skillfully the judge disposed of the first of the interrogations. And +then, save for the gusts of wind rustling the trees, the grove might have +been empty of its thousands, such was the silence that fell. But tighter +and tighter they pressed against the stand, until it trembled. + +Oh, Judge, the time of all artful men will come at length. How were you +to foresee a certain day under the White Dome of the Capitol? Had your +sight been long, you would have paused before your answer. Had your sight +been long, you would have seen this ugly Lincoln bareheaded before the +Nation, and you are holding his hat. Judge Douglas, this act alone has +redeemed your faults. It has given you a nobility of which we did not +suspect you. At the end God gave you strength to be humble, and so you +left the name of a patriot. + +Judge, you thought there was a passage between Scylla and Charybdis which +your craftiness might overcome. + +"It matters not," you cried when you answered the Question, "it matters +not which way the Supreme Court may hereafter decide as to the abstract +question whether slavery may or may not go into a territory under the +Constitution. The people have the lawful means to introduce or to exclude +it as they please, for the reason that slavery cannot exist a day or an +hour anywhere unless it is supported by local police regulations." + +Judge Douglas, uneasy will you lie to-night, for you have uttered the +Freeport Heresy. + +It only remains to be told how Stephen Brice, coming to the Brewster +House after the debate, found Mr. Lincoln. On his knee, in transports of +delight, was a small boy, and Mr. Lincoln was serenely playing on the +child's Jew's-harp. Standing beside him was a proud father who had +dragged his son across two counties in a farm wagon, and who was to +return on the morrow to enter this event in the family Bible. In a corner +of the room were several impatient gentlemen of influence who wished to +talk about the Question. + +But when he saw Stephen, Mr. Lincoln looked up with a smile of welcome +that is still, and ever will be, remembered and cherished. + +"Tell Judge Whipple that I have attended to that little matter, Steve," he +said. + +"Why, Mr. Lincoln," he exclaimed, "you have had no time." + +"I have taken the time," Mr. Lincoln replied, "and I think that I am well +repaid. Steve," said he, "unless I'm mightily mistaken, you know a little +more than you did yesterday." + +"Yes, sir! I do," said Stephen. + +"Come, Steve," said Mr. Lincoln, "be honest. Didn't you feel sorry for me +last night?" + +Stephen flushed scarlet. + +"I never shall again, sir," he said. + +The wonderful smile, so ready to come and go, flickered and went out. In +its stead on the strange face was ineffable sadness,--the sadness of the +world's tragedies, of Stephen stoned, of Christ crucified. + +"Pray God that you may feel sorry for me again," he said. + +Awed, the child on his lap was still. The politician had left the room. +Mr. Lincoln had kept Stephen's hand in his own. + +"I have hopes of you, Stephen," he said. "Do not forget me." + +Stephen Brice never has. Why was it that he walked to the station with a +heavy heart? It was a sense of the man he had left, who had been and was +to be. This Lincoln of the black loam, who built his neighbor's cabin and +hoed his neighbor's corn, who had been storekeeper and postmaster and +flat-boatman. Who had followed a rough judge dealing a rough justice +around a rough circuit; who had rolled a local bully in the dirt; rescued +women from insult; tended the bedside of many a sick coward who feared +the Judgment; told coarse stories on barrels by candlelight (but these +are pure beside the vice of great cities); who addressed political mobs +in the raw, swooping down from the stump and flinging embroilers east and +west. This physician who was one day to tend the sickbed of the Nation in +her agony; whose large hand was to be on her feeble pulse, and whose +knowledge almost divine was to perform the miracle of her healing. So was +it that, the Physician Himself performed His cures, and when work was +done, died a martyr. + +Abraham Lincoln died in His name + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +It was nearly noon when Stephen walked into the office the next day, +dusty and travel-worn and perspiring. He had come straight from the +ferry, without going home. And he had visions of a quiet dinner with +Richter under the trees at the beer-garden, where he could talk about +Abraham Lincoln. Had Richter ever heard of Lincoln? + +But the young German met him at the top of the stair--and his face was +more serious than usual, although he showed his magnificent teeth in a +smile of welcome. + +"You are a little behind your time, my friend," said he, "What has +happened you?" + +"Didn't the Judge get Mr, Lincoln's message?" asked Stephen, with +anxiety. + +The German shrugged his shoulders. + +"Ah, I know not," he answered, "He has gone is Glencoe. The Judge is ill, +Stephen. Doctor Polk says that he has worked all his life too hard. The +Doctor and Colonel Carvel tried to get him to go to Glencoe. But he would +not budge until Miss Carvel herself comes all the way from the country +yesterday, and orders him. Ach!" exclaimed Richter, impulsively, "what +wonderful women you have in America! I could lose my head when I think of +Miss Carvel." + +"Miss Carvel was here, you say?" Stephen repeated, in a tone of inquiry. + +"Donner!" said Richter, disgusted, "you don't care." + +Stephen laughed, in spite of himself. + +"Why should I?" he answered. And becoming grave again, added: "Except on +Judge Whipple's account. Have you heard from him to-day, Carl?" + +"This morning one of Colonel Carvel's servants came for his letters. He +must be feeling better. I--I pray that he is better," said Richter, his +voice breaking. "He has been very good to me." + +Stephen said nothing. But he had been conscious all at once of an +affection for the Judge of which he had not suspected himself. That +afternoon, on his way home, he stopped at Carvel & Company's to inquire. +Mr. Whipple was better, so Mr. Hopper said, and added that he "presumed +likely the Colonel would not be in for a week." It was then Saturday. +Eliphalet was actually in the Colonel's sanctum behind the partition, +giving orders to several clerks at the time. He was so prosperous and +important that he could scarce spare a moment to answer Stephen, who went +away wondering whether he had been wise to choose the law. + +On Monday, when Stephen called at Carvel & Company's, Eliphalet was too +busy to see him. But Ephum, who went out to Glencoe every night with +orders, told him that the "Jedge was wuss, suh." On Wednesday, there +being little change, Mrs. Brice ventured to despatch a jelly by Ephum. On +Friday afternoon, when Stephen was deep in Whittlesey and the New Code, +he became aware of Ephum standing beside him. In reply to his anxious +question Ephum answered: + +"I reckon he better, suh. He an' de Colonel done commence wrastlin' 'bout +a man name o' Linkum. De Colonel done wrote you dis note, suh." + +It was a very polite note, containing the Colonel's compliments, asking +Mr. Brice to Glencoe that afternoon with whatever papers or letters the +Judge might wish to see. And since there was no convenient train in the +evening, Colonel Carvel would feel honored if Mr. Brice would spend the +night. The Colonel mentioned the train on which Mr. Brice was expected. + +The Missouri side of the Mississippi is a very different country from the +hot and treeless prairies of Illinois. As Stephen alighted at the little +station at Glencoe and was driven away by Ned in the Colonel's buggy, he +drew in deep breaths of the sweet air of the Meramec Valley. + +There had been a shower, and the sun glistened on the drops on grass and +flowers, and the great trees hung heavy over the clay road. At last they +came to a white gate in the picket fence, in sight of a rambling wooden +house with a veranda in front covered with honeysuckle. And then he saw +the Colonel, in white marseilles, smoking a cigar. This, indeed, was real +country. + +As Stephen trod the rough flags between the high grass which led toward +the house, Colonel Carvel rose to his full height and greeted him. + +"You are very welcome, sir," he said gravely. "The Judge is asleep now," +he added. "I regret to say that we had a little argument this morning, +and my daughter tells me it will be well not to excite him again to-day. +Jinny is reading to him now, or she would be here to entertain you, Mr. +Brice. Jackson!" cried Mr. Carvel, "show Mr. Brice to his room." + +Jackson appeared hurriedly, seized Stephen's bag, and led the way +upstairs through the cool and darkened house to a pretty little room on +the south side, with matting, and roses on the simple dressing-table. +After he had sat awhile staring at these, and at the wet flower-garden +from between the slats of his shutters, he removed the signs of the +railroad upon him, and descended. The Colonel was still on the porch, in +his easy-chair. He had lighted another, cigar, and on the stand beside +him stood two tall glasses, green with the fresh mint. Colonel Carvel +rose, and with his own hand offered one to Stephen. + +"Your health, Mr. Brice," he said, "and I hope you will feel at home +here, sir. Jackson will bring you anything you desire, and should you +wish to drive, I shall be delighted to show you the country." + +Stephen drank that julep with reverence, and then the Colonel gave him a +cigar. He was quite overcome by this treatment of a penniless young +Yankee. The Colonel did not talk politics--such was not his notion of +hospitality to a stranger. He talked horse, and no great discernment on +Stephen's part was needed to perceive that this was Mr. Carvel's hobby. + +"I used to have a stable, Mr. Brice, before they ruined gentleman's sport +with these trotters ten years ago. Yes sir, we used to be at Lexington +one week, and Louisville the next, and over here on the Ames track after +that. Did you ever hear of Water Witch and Netty Boone?" + +Yes, Stephen had, from Mr. Jack Brinsmade. + +The Colonel's face beamed. + +"Why, sir," he cried, "that very nigger, Ned, who drove you here from the +cars-he used to ride Netty Boone. Would you believe that, Mr. Brice? He +was the best jockey ever strode a horse on the Elleardsville track here. +He wore my yellow and green, sir, until he got to weigh one hundred and a +quarter. And I kept him down to that weight a whole year, Mr. Brice. Yes, +sirree, a whole year." + +"Kept him down!" said Stephen. + +"Why, yes, sir. I had him wrapped in blankets and set in a chair with +holes bored in the seat. Then we lighted a spirit lamp under him. Many a +time I took off ten pounds that way. It needs fire to get flesh off a +nigger, sir." + +He didn't notice his guest's amazement. + +"Then, sir," he continued, "they introduced these damned trotting races; +trotting races are for white trash, Mr. Brice." + +"Pa!" + +The Colonel stopped short. Stephen was already on his feet. I wish you +could have seen Miss Virginia Carvel as he saw her then. She wore a white +lawn dress. A tea-tray was in her hand, and her head was tilted back, as +women are apt to do when they carry a burden. It was so that these +Southern families, who were so bitter against Abolitionists and Yankees, +entertained them when they were poor, and nursed them when they were ill. + +Stephen, for his life, could not utter a word. But Virginia turned to him +with perfect self-possession. + +"He has been boring you with his horses, Mr. Brice," she said. "Has he +told you what a jockey Ned used to be before he weighed one hundred and a +quarter?" (A laugh.) "Has he given you the points of Water Witch and +Netty Boone?" (More laughter, increasing embarrassment for Stephen.) "Pa, +I tell you once more that you will drive every guest from this house. +Your jockey talk is intolerable." + +O that you might have a notion of the way in which Virginia pronounced +intolerable. + +Mr. Carvel reached for another cigar asked, "My dear," he asked, "how is +the Judge?" + +"My dear," said Virginia, smiling, "he is asleep. Mammy Easter is with +him, trying to make out what he is saying. He talks in his sleep, just as +you do--" + +"And what is he saying?" demanded the Colonel, interested. + +Virginia set down the tray. + +"'A house divided against itself,'" said Miss Carvel, with a sweep of her +arm, "'cannot stand. I believe that this Government cannot endure +permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to +dissolve--I do not expect the house to fall--but I do expect it will +cease to be divided.' Would you like any more?" added Miss Virginia. + +"No," cried the Colonel, and banged his fist down on the table. "Why," +said he, thoughtfully, stroking the white goatee on his chin, "cuss me if +that ain't from the speech that country bumpkin, Lincoln, made in June +last before the Black Republican convention in Illinois." + +Virginia broke again into laughter. And Stephen was very near it, for he +loved the Colonel. That gentleman suddenly checked himself in his tirade, +and turned to him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "I reckon that you have the same +political sentiments as the Judge. Believe me, sir, I would not willingly +offend a guest." + +Stephen smiled. "I am not offended, sir," he said. A speech which caused +Mr. Carvel to bestow a quick glance upon him. But Stephen did not see it. +He was looking at Virginia. + +The Colonel rose. + +"You will pardon my absence for a while, sir," he said. + +"My daughter will entertain you." + +In silence they watched him as he strode off under the trees through tall +grass, a yellow setter at his heels. A strange peace was over Stephen. +The shadows of the walnuts and hickories were growing long, and a rich +country was giving up its scent to the evening air. From a cabin behind +the house was wafted the melody of a plantation song. To the young man, +after the burnt city, this was paradise. And then he remembered his +mother as she must be sitting on the tiny porch in town, and sighed. Only +two years ago she had been at their own place at Westbury. + +He looked up, and saw the girl watching him. He dared not think that the +expression he caught was one of sympathy, for it changed instantly. + +"I am afraid you are the silent kind, Mr. Brice," said she; "I believe it +is a Yankee trait." + +Stephen laughed. + +"I have known a great many who were not," said he, "When they are +garrulous, they are very much so." + +"I should prefer a garrulous one," said Virginia. + +"I should think a Yankee were bad enough, but a noisy Yankee not to be +put up with," he ventured. + +Virginia did not deign a direct reply to this, save by the corners of her +mouth. + +"I wonder," said she, thoughtfully, "whether it is strength of mind or a +lack of ideas that makes them silent." + +"It is mostly prudence," said Mr. Brice. "Prudence is our dominant +trait." + +Virginia fidgeted. Usually she had an easier time. + +"You have not always shown it," she said, with an innocence which in +women is often charged with meaning. + +Stephen started. Her antagonism was still there. He would have liked +greatly to know whether she referred to his hasty purchase of Hester, or +to his rashness in dancing with her at her party the winter before. + +"We have something left to be thankful for," he answered. "We are still +capable of action." + +"On occasions it is violence," said Virginia, desperately. This man must +not get ahead of her. + +"It is just as violent," said he, "as the repressed feeling which prompts +it." + +This was a new kind of conversation to Virginia. Of all the young men she +knew, not one had ever ventured into anything of the sort. They were +either flippant, or sentimental, or both. She was at once flattered and +annoyed, flattered, because, as a woman, Stephen had conceded her a mind. +Many of the young men she knew had minds, but deemed that these were +wasted on women, whose language was generally supposed to be a kind of +childish twaddle. Even Jack Brinsmade rarely risked his dignity and +reputation at an intellectual tilt. This was one of Virginia's +grievances. She often argued with her father, and, if the truth were +told, had had more than one victory over Judge Whipple. + +Virginia's annoyance came from the fact that she perceived in Stephen a +natural and merciless logic,--a faculty for getting at the bottom of +things. His brain did not seem to be thrown out of gear by local magnetic +influences,--by beauty, for instance. He did not lose his head, as did +some others she knew, at the approach of feminine charms. Here was a +grand subject, then, to try the mettle of any woman. One with less mettle +would have given it up. But Virginia thought it would be delightful to +bring this particular Yankee to his knees; and--and leave him there. + +"Mr. Brice," she said, "I have not spoken to you since the night of my +party. I believe we danced together." + +"Yes, we did," said he, "and I called, but was unfortunate." + +"You called?" + +Ah, Virginia! + +"They did not tell you!" cried Stephen. + +Now Miss Carvel was complacency itself. + +"Jackson is so careless with cards," said she, "and very often I do not +take the trouble to read them." + +"I am sorry," said he, "as I wished for the opportunity to tell you how +much I enjoyed myself. I have found everybody in St. Louis very kind to +strangers." + +Virginia was nearly disarmed. She remembered how, she had opposed his +coning. But honesty as well as something else prompted her to say: "It +was my father who invited you." + +Stephen did not reveal the shock his vanity had received. + +"At least you were good enough to dance with me." + +"I could scarcely refuse a guest," she replied. + +He held up his head. + +"Had I thought it would have given you annoyance," he said quietly, "I +should not have asked you." + +"Which would have been a lack of good manners," said Virginia, biting her +lips. + +Stephen answered nothing, but wished himself in St. Louis. He could not +comprehend her cruelty. But, just then, the bell rang for supper, and the +Colonel appeared around the end of the house. + +It was one of those suppers for which the South is renowned. And when at +length he could induce Stephen to eat no more, Colonel Carvel reached for +his broad-brimmed felt bat, and sat smoking, with his feet against the +mantle. Virginia, who had talked but little, disappeared with a tray on +which she had placed with her own hands some dainties to tempt the Judge. + +The Colonel regaled Stephen, when she was gone, with the pedigree and +performance of every horse he had had in his stable. And this was a +relief, as it gave him an opportunity to think without interruption upon +Virginia's pronounced attitude of dislike. To him it was inconceivable +that a young woman of such qualities as she appeared to have, should +assail him so persistently for freeing a negress, and so depriving her of +a maid she had set her heart upon. There were other New England young men +in society. Mr. Weston and Mr. Carpenter, and more. They were not her +particular friends, to be sure. But they called on her and danced with +her, and she had shown them not the least antipathy. But it was to +Stephen's credit that he did not analyze her further. + +He was reflecting on these things when he got to his room, when there +came a knock at the door. It was Mammy Easter, in bright turban and +apron,--was hospitality and comfort in the flesh. + +"Is you got all you need, suh?" she inquired. + +Stephen replied that he had. But Mammy showed no inclination to go, and +he was too polite to shut the door: + +"How you like Glencoe, Mistah Bride?" + +He was charmed with it. + +"We has some of de fust fam'lies out heah in de summer," said she. "But +de Colonel, he a'n't much on a gran' place laik in Kaintuck. Shucks, no, +suh, dis ain't much of a 'stablishment! Young Massa won't have no lawns, +no greenhouses, no nothin'. He say he laik it wil' and simple. He on'y +come out fo' two months, mebbe. But Miss Jinny, she make it lively. Las' +week, until the Jedge come we hab dis house chuck full, two-three young +ladies in a room, an' five young gemmen on trunnle beds." + +"Until the Judge came?" echoed Stephen. + +"Yassuh. Den Miss Jinny low dey all hatter go. She say she a'n't gwineter +have 'em noun' 'sturbin' a sick man. De Colonel 'monstrated. He done give +the Judge his big room, and he say he and de young men gwine ober to +Mista, Catherwood's. You a'n't never seen Miss Jinny rise up, suh! She +des swep' 'em all out" (Mammy emphasized this by rolling her hands) "an' +declah she gwine ten' to the Jedge herself. She a'n't never let me bring +up one of his meals, suh." And so she left Stephen with some food for +reflection. + +Virginia was very gay at breakfast, and said that the Judge would see +Stephen; so he and the Colonel, that gentleman with his hat on, went up +to his room. The shutters were thrown open, and the morning sunlight +filtered through the leaves and fell on the four-poster where the Judge +sat up, gaunt and grizzled as ever. He smiled at his host, and then tried +to destroy immediately the effect of the smile. + +"Well, Judge," cried the Colonel, taking his hand, "I reckon we talked +too much." + +"No such thing, Carvel," said the Judge, forcibly, "if you hadn't left +the room, your popular sovereignty would have been in rags in two +minutes." + +Stephen sat down in a corner, unobserved, in expectation of a renewal. +But at this moment Miss Virginia swept into the room, very cool in a pink +muslin. + +"Colonel Carvel," said she, sternly, "I am the doctor's deputy here. I +was told to keep the peace at any cost. And if you answer back, out you +go, like that!" and she snapped her fingers. + +The Colonel laughed. But the Judge, whose mind was on the argument, +continued to mutter defiantly until his eye fell upon Stephen. + +"Well, sir, well, sir," he said, "you've turned up at last, have you? I +send you off with papers for a man, and I get back a piece of yellow +paper saying that he's borrowed you. What did he do with you, Mr. Brice?" + +"He took me to Freeport, sir, where I listened to the most remarkable +speech I ever expect to hear." + +"What!" cried the Judge, "so far from Boston?" + +Stephen hesitated, uncertain whether to laugh, until he chanced to look +at Virginia. She had pursed her lips. + +"I was very much surprised, sir," he said. + +"Humph!" grunted Mr. Whipple, "and what did you chink of that ruffian, +Lincoln?" + +"He is the most remarkable man that I have ever met, sir," answered +Stephen, with emphasis. + +"Humph!" + +It seemed as if the grunt this time had in it something of approval. +Stephen had doubt as to the propriety of discussing Mr. Lincoln there, +and he reddened. Virginia's expression bore a trace of defiance, and Mr. +Carvel stood with his feet apart, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. But +Mr. Whipple seemed to have no scruples. + +"So you admired Lincoln, Mr. Brice?" he went on. "You must agree with +that laudatory estimation of him which I read in the Missouri Democrat." + +Stephen fidgeted. + +"I do, sir, most decidedly," he answered. + +"I should hardly expect a conservative Bostonian, of the class which +respects property, to have said that. It might possibly be a good thing +if more from your town could hear those debates." + +"They will read them, sir; I feel confident of it." + +At this point the Colonel could contain himself no longer. + +"I reckon I might tell the man who wrote that Democrat article a few +things, if I could find out who he is," said he. + +"Pa!" said Virginia, warningly. + +But Stephen had turned a fiery red, "I wrote it, Colonel Carvel," he +said. + +For a dubious instant of silence Colonel Carvel stared. Then--then he +slapped his knees, broke into a storm of laughter, and went out of the +room. He left Stephen in a moist state of discomfiture. + +The Judge had bolted upright from the pillows. + +"You have been neglecting your law, sir," he cried. + +"I wrote the article at night," said Stephen, indignantly. + +"Then it must have been Sunday night, Mr. Brice." + +At this point Virginia hid her face in her handkerchief which trembled +visibly. Being a woman, whose ways are unaccountable, the older man took +no notice of her. But being a young woman, and a pretty one, Stephen was +angry. + +"I don't see what right you have to ask me that sir," he said. + +"The question is withdrawn, Mr. Brice," said the Judge, "Virginia, you +may strike it from the records. And now, sir, tell me something about +your trip." + +Virginia departed. + +An hour later Stephen descended to the veranda, and it was with +apprehension that he discerned Mr. Carvel seated under the vines at the +far end. Virginia was perched on the railing. + +To Stephen's surprise the Colonel rose, and, coming toward him, laid a +kindly hand on his shoulder. + +"Stephen," said he, "there will be no law until Monday you must stay with +us until then. A little rest will do you good." + +Stephen was greatly touched. + +"Thank you, sir," he said. "I should like to very much. But I can't." + +"Nonsense," said the Colonel. "I won't let the Judge interfere." + +"It isn't that, sir. I shall have to go by the two o'clock train, I +fear." + +The Colonel turned to Virginia, who, meanwhile, had sat silently by. + +"Jinny," he said, "we must contrive to keep him." + +She slid off the railing. + +"I'm afraid he is determined, Pa," she answered. "But perhaps Mr. Brice +would like to see a little of the place before he goes. It is very +primitive," she explained, "not much like yours in the East." + +Stephen thanked her, and bowed to the Colonel. And so she led him past +the low, crooked outbuildings at the back, where he saw old Uncle Ben +busy over the preparation of his dinner, and frisky Rosetta, his +daughter, playing with one of the Colonel's setters. Then Virginia took a +well-worn path, on each side of which the high grass bent with its load +of seed, which entered the wood. Oaks and hickories and walnuts and +persimmons spread out in a glade, and the wild grape twisted +fantastically around the trunks. All this beauty seemed but a fit setting +to the strong girlish figure in the pink frock before him. So absorbed +was he in contemplation of this, and in wondering whether indeed she were +to marry her cousin, Clarence Colfax, that he did not see the wonders of +view unrolling in front of him. She stopped at length beside a great +patch of wild race bushes. They were on the edge of the bluff, and in +front of them a little rustic summer-house, with seats on its five sides. +Here Virginia sat down. But Stephen, going to the edge, stood and +marvelled. Far, far below him, down the wooded steep, shot the crystal +Meramec, chafing over the shallow gravel beds and tearing headlong at the +deep passes. + +Beyond, the dimpled green hills rose and fell, and the stream ran indigo +and silver. A hawk soared over the, water, the only living creature in +all that wilderness. + +The glory of the place stirred his blood. And when at length he turned, +he saw that the girl was watching him. + +"It is very beautiful," he said. + +Virginia had taken other young men here, and they had looked only upon +her. And yet she was not offended. This sincerity now was as new to her +as that with which he had surprised her in the Judge's room. + +And she was not quite at her ease. A reply to those simple words of his +was impossible. At honest Tom Catherwood in the same situation she would +have laughed, Clarence never so much as glanced at scenery. Her replies +to him were either flippant, or else maternal, as to a child. + +A breeze laden with the sweet abundance of that valley stirred her hair. +And with that womanly gesture which has been the same through the ages +she put up her hand; deftly tucking in the stray wisp behind. + +She glanced at the New Englander, against whom she had been in strange +rebellion since she had first seen him. His face, thinned by the summer +in town, was of the sternness of the Puritan. Stephen's features were +sharply marked for his age. The will to conquer was there. Yet justice +was in the mouth, and greatness of heart. Conscience was graven on the +broad forehead. The eyes were the blue gray of the flint, kindly yet +imperishable. The face was not handsome. + +Struggling, then yielding to the impulse, Virginia let herself be led on +into the years. Sanity was the word that best described him. She saw him +trusted of men, honored of women, feared by the false. She saw him in +high places, simple, reserved, poised evenly as he was now. + +"Why do you go in this afternoon?" she asked abruptly. + +He started at the change in her tone. + +"I wish that I might stay," he said regretfully. "But I cannot, Miss +Carvel." + +He gave no reason. And she was too proud to ask it. Never before had she +stooped to urge young men to stay. The difficulty had always been to get +them to go. It was natural, perhaps, that her vanity was wounded. But it +hurt her to think that she had made the overture, had tried to conquer +whatever it was that set her against him, and had failed through him. + +"You must find the city attractive. Perhaps," she added, with a little +laugh, "perhaps it is Bellefontaine Road." + +"No," he answered, smiling. + +"Then" (with a touch of derision), "then it is because you cannot miss an +afternoon's work. You are that kind." + +"I was not always that kind," he answered. "I did not work at Harvard. +But now I have to or--or starve," he said. + +For the second time his complete simplicity had disarmed her. He had not +appealed to her sympathy, nor had he hinted at the luxury in which he was +brought up. She would have liked to question Stephen on this former life. +But she changed the subject suddenly. + +"What did you really think of Mr. Lincoln?" she asked. + +"I thought him the ugliest man I ever saw, and the handsomest as well." + +"But you admired him?" + +"Yes," said Stephen, gravely. + +"You believe with him that this government cannot exist half slave and +half free. Then a day will come, Mr. Brice, when you and I shall be +foreigners one to the other." + +"You have forgotten," he said eagerly, "you have forgotten the rest of +the quotation. 'I do not expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not +expect the house to fall--but cease to be divided.' It will become all +one thing or all the other." + +Virginia laughed. "That seemed to me very equivocal," said she. "Your +rail-sputter is well named." + +"Will you read the rest of that speech?" he asked + +"Judge Whipple is very clever. He has made a convert of you," she +answered. + +"The Judge has had nothing to do with it," cried Stephen. "He is not +given to discussion with me, and until I went to Springfield had never +mentioned Lincoln's name to me." + +Glancing at her, he surprised a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Then +she laughed openly. + +"Why do you suppose that you were sent to Springfield?" she asked. + +"With an important communication for Mr. Lincoln," he answered. + +"And that most important communication was--your self. There, now, I have +told you," said Virginia. + +"Was myself? I don't understand." + +Virginia puckered her lips. + +"Then you haven't the sense I thought you had," she replied impatiently. +"Do you know what was in that note? No? Well, a year ago last June this +Black Republican lawyer whom you are all talking of made a speech before +a convention in Illinois. Judge Whipple has been crazy on the subject +ever since--he talks of Lincoln in his sleep; he went to Springfield and +spent two days with him, and now he can't rest until you have seen and +known and heard him. So he writes a note to Lincoln and asks him to take +you to the debate--" + +She paused again to laugh at his amazement. + +"But he told me to go to Springfield!" he exclaimed. + +"He told you to find Lincoln. He knew that you would obey his orders, I +suppose." + +"But I didn't know--" Stephen began, trying to come pass within an +instant the memory of his year's experience with Mr. Whipple. + +"You didn't know that he thought anything about you," said Virginia. +"That is his way, Mr. Brice. He has more private charities on his list +than any man in the city except Mr. Brinsmade. Very few know it. He +thinks a great deal of you. But there," she added, suddenly blushing +crimson, "I am sorry I told you." + +"Why?" he asked. + +She did not answer, but sat tapping the seat with her fingers. And when +she ventured to look at him, he had fallen into thought. + +"I think it must be time for dinner," said Virginia, "if you really wish +to catch the train." + +The coldness in her voice, rather than her words, aroused him. He rose, +took one lingering look at the river, and followed her to the house. + +At dinner, when not talking about his mare, the Colonel was trying to +persuade Stephen to remain. Virginia did not join in this, and her father +thought the young man's refusal sprang from her lack of cordiality. +Colonel Carvel himself drove to the station. + +When he returned, he found his daughter sitting idly on the porch. + +"I like that young man, if he is a Yankee," he declared. + +"I don't," said Virginia, promptly. + +"My dear," said her father, voicing the hospitality of the Carvels, "I am +surprised at you. One should never show one's feelings toward a guest. As +mistress of this house it was your duty to press him to stay." + +"He did not want to stay." + +"Do you know why he went, my dear," asked the Colonel. + +"No," said Virginia. + +"I asked him," said the Colonel. + +"Pa! I did not think it of you!" she cried. And then, "What was it?" she +demanded. + +"He said that his mother was alone in town, and needed him." + +Virginia got up without a word, and went into Judge Whipple's room. And +there the Colonel found her some hours later, reading aloud from a +scrap-book certain speeches of Mr. Lincoln's which Judge Whipple had cut +from newspapers. And the Judge, lying back with his eyes half closed, was +listening in pure delight. Little did he guess at Virginia's penance! + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Crisis, Volume 3, by Winston Churchill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, VOLUME 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 5390.txt or 5390.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/9/5390/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Crisis, Volume 3. + +Author: Winston Churchill (USA author, not Sir Winston Churchill) + +Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5390] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 28, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, V3, BY CHURCHILL *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the +file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an +entire meal of them. D.W.] + + + + + +THE CRISIS + +By Winston Churchill + + + +BOOK II. + +Volume 3. + + +I. Raw Material. +II. Abraham Lincoln +III. In Which Stephen Learns Something +IV. The Question +V. The Crisis +VI. Glencoe +VII. An Excursion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +RAW MATERIAL, + +Summer, intolerable summer, was upon the city at last. The families of +its richest citizens had fled. Even at that early day some braved the +long railroad journey to the Atlantic coast. Amongst these were our +friends the Cluymes, who come not strongly into this history. Some went +to the Virginia Springs. But many, like the Brinsmades and the Russells, +the Tiptons and the Hollingsworths, retired to the local paradise of +their country places on the Bellefontaine road, on the cool heights above +the river. Thither, as a respite from the hot office, Stephen was often +invited by kind Mr. Brinsmade, who sometimes drove him out in his own +buggy. Likewise he had visited Miss Puss Russell. But Miss Virginia +Carvel he had never seen since the night he had danced with her. +This was because, after her return from the young ladies' school at +Monticello, she had gone to Glencoe, Glencoe, magic spot, perched high +on wooded highlands. And under these the Meramec, crystal pure, ran +lightly on sand and pebble to her bridal with that turbid tyrant, the +Father of Waters. + +To reach Glencoe you spent two dirty hours on that railroad which (it was +fondly hoped) would one day stretch to the Pacific Ocean. You generally +spied one of the big Catherwood boys in the train, or their tall sister +Maude. The Catherwoods likewise lived at Glencoe in the summer. And on +some Saturday afternoons a grim figure in a linen duster and a silk +skull-cap took a seat in the forward car. That was Judge Whipple, on his +way to spend a quiet Sunday with Colonel Carvel. + +To the surprise of many good people, the Judge had recently formed +another habit. At least once a week he would drop in at the little house +on Olive Street next to Mr. Brinsmade's big one, which was shut up, and +take tea with Mrs. Brice. Afterward he would sit on the little porch +over the garden in the rear, or on the front steps, and watch the bob- +tailed horse-cars go by. His conversation was chiefly addressed to the +widow. Rarely to Stephen; whose wholesome respect for his employer had +in no wise abated. + +Through the stifling heat of these summer days Stephen sat in the outer +office, straining at the law. Had it not been for the fact that Mr. +Whipple went to his mother's house, despair would have seized him long +since. Apparently his goings-out and his comings-in were noted only by +Mr. Richter. Truly the Judge's methods were not Harvard methods. And if +there were pride in the young Bostonian, Mr. Whipple thought he knew the +cure for it. + +It was to Richter Stephen owed a debt of gratitude in these days. He +would often take his midday meal in the down-town beer garden with the +quiet German. Then there came a Sunday afternoon (to be marked with a +red letter) when Richter transported him into Germany itself. Stephen's +eyes were opened. Richter took him across the Rhine. The Rhine was +Market Street, and south of that street was a country of which polite +American society took no cognizance. + +Here was an epic movement indeed, for South St. Louis was a great sod +uprooted from the Fatherland and set down in all its vigorous crudity in +the warm black mud of the Mississippi Valley. Here lager beer took the +place of Bourbon, and black bread and sausages of hot rolls and fried +chicken. Here were quaint market houses squatting in the middle of wide +streets; Lutheran churches, square and uncompromising, and bulky Turner +Halls, where German children were taught the German tongue. Here, in a +shady grove of mulberry and locust, two hundred families were spread out +at their ease. + +For a while Richter sat in silence, puffing at a meerschaum with a huge +brown bowl. A trick of the mind opened for Stephen one of the histories +in his father's library in Beacon Street, across the pages of which had +flitted the ancestors of this blue-eyed and great-chested Saxon. He saw +them in cathedral forests, with the red hair long upon their bodies. He +saw terrifying battles with the Roman Empire surging back and forth +through the low countries. He saw a lad of twenty at the head of rugged +legions clad in wild skins, sweeping Rome out of Gaul. Back in the dim +ages Richter's fathers must have defended grim Eresburg. And it seemed +to him that in the end the new Republic must profit by this rugged stock, +which had good women for wives and mothers, and for fathers men in whose +blood dwelt a fierce patriotism and contempt for cowardice. + +This fancy of ancestry pleased Stephen. He thought of the forefathers of +those whom he knew, who dwelt north of Market Street. Many, though this +generation of the French might know it not, had bled at Calais and at +Agincourt, had followed the court of France in clumsy coaches to Blois +and Amboise, or lived in hovels under the castle walls. Others had +charged after the Black Prince at Poitiers, and fought as serf or noble. +in the war of the Roses; had been hatters or tailors in Cromwell's +armies, or else had sacrificed lands and fortunes for Charles Stuart. +These English had toiled, slow but resistless, over the misty Blue Ridge +after Boone and Harrod to this old St. Louis of the French, their +enemies, whose fur traders and missionaries had long followed the veins +of the vast western wilderness. And now, on to the structure builded by +these two, comes Germany to be welded, to strengthen or to weaken. + +Richter put down his pipe on the table. + +"Stephen," he said suddenly, "you do not share the prejudice against us +here?" + +Stephen flushed. He thought of some vigorous words that Miss Puss +Russell had used on the subject of the Dutch." + +"No," said he, emphatically. + +"I am glad," answered Richter, with a note of sadness, in his voice. "Do +not despise us before you know more of us. We are still feudal in +Germany--of the Middle Ages. The peasant is a serf. He is compelled to +serve the lord of the land every year with so much labor of his hands. +The small farmers, the 'Gross' and 'Mittel Bauern', we call them, are +also mortgaged to the nobles who tyrannize our Vaterland. Our merchants +are little merchants--shopkeepers, you would say. My poor father, an +educated man, was such. They fought our revolution." + +"And now," said Stephen, "why do they not keep their hold?" + +Richter sighed. + +"We were unused to ruling," he answered. "We knew not how to act--what +to do. You must remember that we were not trained to govern ourselves, +as are you of the English race, from children. Those who have been for +centuries ground under heel do not make practical parliamentarians. No; +your heritage is liberty--you Americans and English; and we Germans must +desert our native land to partake of it." + +"And was it not hard to leave?" asked Stephen, gently. + +The eyes of the German filled at the recollection, nor did he seem +ashamed of his tears. + +"I had a poor old father whose life was broken to save the Vaterland, but +not his spirit," he cried, "no, not that. My father was born in 1797. +God directed my grandfather to send him to the Kolnisches gymnasium, +where the great Jahn taught. Jahn was our Washington, the father of +Germany that is to be. + +"Then our Fatherland was French. Our women wore Parisian clothes, and +spoke the language; French immorality and atheism had spread like a +plague among us Napoleon the vile had taken the sword of our Frederick +from Berlin. It was Father Jahn (so we love to call him), it was Father +Jahn who founded the 'Turnschulen', that the generations to come might +return to simple German ways,--plain fare, high principles, our native +tongue; and the development of the body. The downfall of the fiend +Napoleon and the Vaterland united--these two his scholars must have +written in their hearts. All summer long, in their black caps and linen +pantaloons, they would trudge after him, begging a crust here and a +cheese there, to spread his teachings far and wide under the thatched +roofs. + +"Then came 1811. I have heard my father tell how in the heat of that year +a great red comet burned in the sky, even as that we now see, my friend. +God forbid that this portends blood. But in the coming spring the French +conscripts filled our sacred land like a swarm of locusts, devouring as +they went. And at their head, with the pomp of Darius, rode that +destroyer of nations and homes, Napoleon. What was Germany then? Ashes. +But the red embers were beneath, fanned by Father Jahn. Napoleon at +Dresden made our princes weep. Never, even in the days of the Frankish +kings, had we been so humbled. He dragged our young men with him to +Russia, and left them to die moaning on the frozen wastes, while he drove +off in his sledge. + +"It was the next year that Germany rose. High and low, rich and poor, +Jaeger and Landwehr, came flocking into the army, and even the old men, +the Landsturm. Russia was an ally, and later, Austria. My father, a +last of sixteen, was in the Landwehr, under the noble Blucher in Silesia, +when they drove the French into the Katzbach and the Neisse, swollen by +the rains into torrents. It had rained until the forests were marshes. +Powder would not burn. But Blucher, ah, there was a man! He whipped his +great sabre from under his cloak, crying 'Vorwarts! Vorwarts!' And the +Landwehr with one great shout slew their enemies with the butts of their +muskets until their arms were weary and the bodies were tossed like logs +in the foaming waters. They called Blucher Marachall Vorwarts! + +"Then Napoleon was sent to Elba. But the victors quarrelled amongst +themselves, while Talleyrand and Metternich tore our Vaterland into +strips, and set brother against brother. And our blood, and the grief +for the widows and the fatherless, went for nothing." + +Richter paused to light his pipe. + +"After a while," he continued presently, "came the German Confederation, +with Austria at the head. Rid of Napoleon, we had another despot in +Metternich. But the tree which Jahn had planted grew, and its branches +spread. The great master was surrounded by spies. My father had gone to +Jena University, when he joined the Burschenschaft, or Students' League, +of which I will tell you later. It was pledged to the rescue of the +Vaterland. He was sent to prison for dipping his handkerchief in the +blood of Sand, beheaded for liberty at Mannheim. Afterwards he was +liberated, and went to Berlin and married my mother, who died when I was +young. Twice again he was in prison because the societies met at his +house. We were very poor, my friend. You in America know not the +meaning of that word. His health broke, and when '48 came, he was an old +man. His hair was white, and he walked the streets with a crutch. But +he had saved a little money to send me to Jena. + +"He was proud of me. I was big-boned and fair, like my mother. And when +I came home at the end of a Semester I can see him now, as he would +hobble to the door, wearing the red and black and gold of the +Burschenschaft. And he would keep me up half the night-telling him of +our 'Schlager' fights with the aristocrats. My father had been a noted +swordsman in his day." + +He stopped abruptly, and colored. For Stephen was staring at the jagged +scar, He had never summoned the courage to ask Richter how he came by it. + +"Schlager fights?" he exclaimed. + +"Broadswords," answered the German, hastily. "Some day I will tell you of +them, and of the struggle with the troops in the 'Breite Strasse' in +March. We lost, as I told you because we knew not how to hold what we +had gained. + +"I left Germany, hoping to make a home here for my poor father. How sad +his face as he kissed me farewell! And he said to me: 'Carl, if ever +your new Vaterland, the good Republic, be in danger, sacrifice all. I +have spent my years in bondage, and I say to you that life without +liberty is not worth the living.' Three months I was gone, and he was +dead, without that for which he had striven so bravely. He never knew +what it is to have an abundance of meat. He never knew from one day to +the other when he would have to embrace me, all he owned, and march away +to prison, because he was a patriot." Richter's voice had fallen low, +but now he raised it. "Do you think, my friend," he cried, "do you think +that I would not die willingly for this new country if the time should +come. Yes, and there are a million like me, once German, now American, +who will give their lives to preserve this Union. For without it the +world is not fit to live in." + +Stephen had food for thought as be walked northward through the strange +streets on that summer evening. Here indeed was a force not to be +reckoned, and which few had taken into account. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ABRAHAM LINCOLN + +It is sometimes instructive to look back and see hour Destiny gave us a +kick here, and Fate a shove there, that sent us in the right direction at +the proper time. And when Stephen Brice looks backward now, he laughs to +think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who +are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to +him that summer had been these. Stephen was dressed more carefully than +usual, in view of a visit to Bellefontaine Road. Whereupon the Judge +demanded whether he were contemplating marriage. Without waiting for a +reply he pointed to a rope and a slab of limestone on the pavement below, +and waved his hand unmistakably toward the Mississippi. + +Miss Russell was of the opinion that Mr. Whipple had once been crossed in +love. + +But we are to speak more particularly of a put-up job, although Stephen +did not know this at the time. + +Towards five o'clock of a certain afternoon in August of that year, 1858, +Mr. Whipple emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he +strode straight to Stephen's table. His communications were always a +trifle startling. This was no exception. + +"Mr. Brice," said he, "you are to take the six forty-five train on the +St. Louis, Alton, and Chicago road tomorrow morning for Springfield, +Illinois." + +"Yes sir," + +"Arriving at Springfield, you are to deliver this envelope into the hands +of Mr. Abraham Lincoln, of the law firm of Lincoln & Herndon." + +"Abraham Lincoln!" cried Stephen, rising and straddling his chair. "But, +sir--" + +"Abraham Lincoln," interrupted the Judge, forcibly "I try to speak +plainly, sir. You are to deliver it into Mr. Lincoln's hands. If he +is not in Springfield, find out where he is and follow him up. Your +expenses will be paid by me. The papers are important. Do you +understand, sir?" + +Stephen did. And he knew better than to argue the matter with +Mr. Whipple. He had read in the Missouri Democrat of this man Lincoln, +a country lawyer who had once been to Congress, and who was even now +disputing the senatorship of his state with the renowned Douglas. In +spite of their complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from +conservative citizens who did not believe in the efficacy of Judge +Douglas's Squatter Sovereignty. Likewise this Mr. Lincoln, who had once +been a rail-sputter, was uproariously derided by Northern Democrats +because he had challenged Mr. Douglas to seven debates, to be held at +different towns in the state of Illinois. David with his sling and his +smooth round pebble must have had much of the same sympathy and ridicule. + +For Mr. Douglas, Senator and Judge, was a national character, mighty in +politics, invulnerable in the armor of his oratory. And he was known far +and wide as the Little Giant. Those whom he did not conquer with his +logic were impressed by his person. + +Stephen remembered with a thrill that these debates were going on now. +One, indeed, had been held, and had appeared in fine print in a corner of +the Democrat. Perhaps this Lincoln might not be in; Springfield; perhaps +he, Stephen Brice, might, by chance, hit upon a debate, and see and hear +the tower of the Democracy, the Honorable Stephen A. Douglas. + +But it is greatly to be feared that our friend Stephen was bored with his +errand before he arrived at the little wooden station of the Illinois +capital. Standing on the platform after the train pulled out, he +summoned up courage to ask a citizen with no mustache and a beard, +which he swept away when he spat, where was the office of Lincoln & +Herndon. The stranger spat twice, regarded Mr. Brice pityingly, and +finally led him in silence past the picket fence and the New England- +looking meeting-house opposite until they came to the great square on +which the State House squatted. The State House was a building with much +pretension to beauty, built in the classical style, of a yellow stone, +with sold white blinds in the high windows and mighty columns capped at +the gently slanting roof. But on top of it was reared a crude wooden +dome, like a clay head on a marble statue. + +"That there," said the stranger, "is whar we watches for the County +Delegations when they come in to a meetin'." And with this remark, +pointing with a stubby thumb up a well-worn stair, he departed before +Stephen could thank him. Stephen paused under the awning, of which there +were many shading the brick pavement, to regard the straggling line of +stores and houses which surrounded and did homage to the yellow pile. +The brick house in which Mr. Lincoln's office was had decorations above +the windows. Mounting the stair, Stephen found a room bare enough, save +for a few chairs and law books, and not a soul in attendance. After +sitting awhile by the window, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he +went out on the landing to make inquiries. There he men; another citizen +in shirt sleeves, like unto the first, in the very act of sweeping his +beard out of the way of a dexterous expectoration. + +"Wal, young man," said he, "who be you lookin' for here?" + +"For Mr. Lincoln," said Stephen. + +At this the gentleman sat down on the dirty top step; and gave vent to +quiet but annoying laughter. + +"I reckon you come to the wrong place." + +"I was told this was his office," said Stephen, with some heat. + +"Whar be you from?" said the citizen, with interest. + +"I don't see what that has to do with it," answered our friend. + +"Wal," said the citizen, critically, "if you was from Philadelphy or +Boston, you might stand acquitted." + +Stephen was on the point of claiming Boston, but wisely hesitated. + +"I'm from St. Louis, with a message for Mr. Lincoln," he replied. + +"Ye talk like y e was from down East," said the citizens who seemed in +the humor for conversation. "I reckon old Abe's' too busy to see you. +Say, young man, did you ever hear of Stephen Arnold Douglas, alias the +Little Giant, alias the Idol of our State, sir?" + +This was too much for Stephen, who left the citizen without the +compliment of a farewell. Continuing around the square, inquiring for +Mr. Lincoln's house, he presently got beyond the stores and burning +pavements on to a plank walk, under great shade trees, and past old brick +mansions set well back from the street. At length he paused in front of +a wooden house of a dirty grayish brown, too high for its length and +breadth, with tall shutters of the same color, and a picket fence on top +of the retaining wall which lifted the yard above the plank walk. It was +an ugly house, surely. But an ugly house may look beautiful when +surrounded by such heavy trees as this was. Their shade was the most +inviting thing Stephen had seen. A boy of sixteen or so was swinging on +the gate, plainly a very mischievous boy, with a round, laughing, +sunburned face and bright eyes. In front of the gate was a shabby +carriage with top and side curtains, hitched to a big bay horse. + +"Can you tell me where Mr. Lincoln lives?" inquired Stephen. + +"Well, I guess," said the boy. "I'm his son, and he lives right here +when he's at home. But that hasn't been often lately." + +"Where is he?" asked Stephen, beginning to realize the purport of his +conversations with citizens. + +Young Mr. Lincoln mentioned the name of a small town in the northern part +of the state, where he said his father would stop that night. He told +Stephen that he looked wilted, invited him into the house to have a glass +of lemonade, and to join him and another boy in a fishing excursion with +the big bay horse. Stephen told young Mr. Lincoln that he should have to +take the first train after his father. + +"Jimmy!" exclaimed the other, enviously, "then you'll hear the Freeport +debate." + +Now it has been said that the day was scorching hot. And when Stephen +had got back to the wooden station, and had waited an hour for the +Bloomington express, his anxiety to hear the Freeport debate was not +as keen as it might have been. Late in the afternoon he changed at +Bloomington to the Illinois Central Railroad: The sun fell down behind +the cardboard edge of the prairie, the train rattled on into the north, +wrapped in its dust and Smoke, and presently became a long comet, roaring +red, to match that other comet which flashed in the sky. + +By this time it may be said that our friend was heartily sick of his +mission, He tried to doze; but two men, a farmer and a clerk, got in +at a way station, and sat behind him. They began to talk about this man +Lincoln. + +"Shucks," said the clerk, "think of him opposing the Little Giant." + +"He's right smart, Sam," said the farmer. "He's got a way of sayin' +things that's clear. We boys can foller him. But Steve Douglas, he only +mixes you up." + +His companion guffawed. + +"Because why?" he shouted. "Because you ain't had no education: What +does a rail-sputter like Abe know about this government? Judge Douglas +has worked it all out. He's smart. Let the territories take care of +themselves. Besides, Abe ain't got no dignity. The fust of this week I +seen him side-tracked down the road here in a caboose, while Doug went by +in a special." + +"Abe is a plain man, Sam," the farmer answered solemnly. "But you watch +out for him." + +It was ten o'clock when Stephen descended at his destination. Merciful +night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged town. The +baggage man told him that Mr. Lincoln was at the tavern. + +That tavern! Will words describe the impression it made on a certain +young man from Boston! It was long and low and ramshackly and hot that +night as the inside of a brick-kiln. As he drew near it on the single +plant walk over the black prairie-mud, he saw countrymen and politicians +swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys +were in progress, and it, was with vast difficulty that our distracted +young man pushed through and found the landlord, This personage was the +coolest of the lot. Confusion was but food for his smiles, importunity +but increased his suavity. And of the seeming hundreds that pressed him, +he knew and utilized the Christian name of all. From behind a corner of +the bar he held them all at bay, and sent them to quarters like the old +campaigner he was, + +"Now, Ben, tain't no use gettin' mad. You, and Josh way, an' Will, an' +Sam, an' the Cap'n, an' the four Beaver brothers, will all sleep in +number ten. What's that, Franklin? No, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and +Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of +perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the +situation. "What's that? Supper, young man? Ain't you had no supper? +Gosh, I reckon if you can fight your way to the dinin' room, the gals'll +give you some pork and a cup of coffee." + +After a preliminary scuffle with a drunken countryman in mud-caked boots, +Mr. Brice presently reached the long table in the dining-room. A sense +of humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and +greasy potatoes and heavy apple pie. As he was finishing the pie, he +became aware of the tavern keeper standing over him. + +"Are you one of them flip Chicagy reporters?" asked that worthy, with a +suspicious eye on Stephen's clothes. + +Our friend denied this. + +"You didn't talk jest like 'em. Guess you'll be here, tonight--" + +"Yes," said Stephen, wearily. And he added, outs of force of habit, +"Can you give me a room?" + +"I reckon," was the cheerful reply. "Number ten, There ain't nobody in +there but Ben Billings, and the four Beaver brothers, an' three more. +I'll have a shake-down for ye next the north window." + +Stephen's thanks for the hospitality perhaps lacked heartiness. But +perceiving his host still contemplating him, he was emboldened to say: + +"Has Mr. Lincoln gone to bed?" + +"Who? Old Abe, at half-past ten? Wa1 I reckon you don't know him." + +Stephen's reflections here on the dignity of the Senatorial candidate of +the Republican Party in Illinois were novel, at any rate. He thought of +certain senators he had seen in Massachusetts. + +"The only reason he ain't down here swappin' yarns with the boys, is +because he's havin' some sort of confab with the Jedge and Joe Medill of +the 'Chicagy Press' and 'Tribune'." + +"Do you think he would see me?" asked Stephen, eagerly. He was +emboldened by the apparent lack of ceremony of the candidate. The +landlord looked at him in some surprise. + +"Wal, I reckon. Jest go up an' knock at the door number seven, and say +Tom Wright sent ye." + +"How shall I know Mr. Lincoln?" asked Stephen. + +"Pick out the ugliest man in the room. There ain't nobody I kin think of +uglier than Abe." + +Bearing in mind this succinct description of the candidate, Stephen +climbed the rickety stairs to the low second story. All the bedroom +doors were flung open except one, on which the number 7 was inscribed. +From within came bursts of uproarious laughter, and a summons to enter. + +He pushed open the door, and as soon as his eyes became, accustomed to +the tobacco smoke, he surveyed the room. There was a bowl on the floor, +the chair where it belonged being occupied. There was a very +inhospitable looking bed, two shake-downs, and four Windsor chairs in +more or less state of dilapidation--all occupied likewise. A country +glass lamp was balanced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat +absorbed in making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise around +him. Every gentleman in the room was collarless, coatless, tieless, and +vestless. Some were engaged in fighting gnats and June bugs, while +others battled with mosquitoes--all save the young man who wrote, he +being wholly indifferent. + +Stephen picked out the homeliest man in the room. There was no mistaking +him. And, instead of a discussion of the campaign with the other +gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln was defending what do you think? Mr. Lincoln was +defending an occasional and judicious use of swear words. + +"Judge," said he, "you do an almighty lot of cussing in your speeches, +and perhaps it ain't a bad way to keep things stirred up." + +"Well," said the Judge, "a fellow will rip out something once in a while +before he has time to shut it off." + +Mr. Lincoln passed his fingers through his tousled hair. His thick lower +lip crept over in front of the upper one, A gleam stirred in the deep-set +gray eyes. + +"Boys," he asked, "did I ever tell you about Sam'l, the old Quaker's +apprentice?" + +There was a chorus of "No's" and "Go ahead, Abe?" The young man who was +writing dropped his pencil. As for Stephen, this long, uncouth man of +the plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude +features and deep furrows, relaxed into intense soberness. And Mr. +Lincoln began his story with a slow earnestness that was truly startling, +considering the subject. + +"This apprentice, Judge, was just such an incurable as you." (Laughter.) +"And Sam'l, when he wanted to, could get out as many cusses in a second +as his anvil shot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him +nights and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it +didn't do any good. When anything went wrong, Sam'l had an appropriate +word for the occasion. One day the old man got an inspiration when he +was scratching around in the dirt for an odd-sized iron. + +"'Sam'l,' says he, 'I want thee.' + +"Sam'l went, and found the old man standing over a big rat hole, where the +rats came out to feed on the scraps. + +"'Sam'l,' says he, 'fetch the tongs.' + +"Sam'l fetched the tongs. + +"'Now, Sam'l,' says the old man, 'thou wilt sit here until thou hast a +rat. Never mind thy dinner. And when thou hast him, if I hear thee +swear, thou wilt sit here until thou hast another. Dost thou mind?'" + +Here Mr. Lincoln seized two cotton umbrellas, rasped his chair over the +bare boor into a corner of the room, and sat hunched over an imaginary +rat hole, for all the world like a gawky Quaker apprentice. And this was +a candidate for the Senate of the United States, who on the morrow was to +meet in debate the renowned and polished Douglas! + +"Well," Mr. Lincoln continued, "that was on a Monday, I reckon, and the +boys a-shouting to have their horses shod. Maybe you think they didn't +have some fun with Sam'l. But Sam'l sat there, and sat there, and sat +there, and after a while the old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l +never opened his mouth. First thing you know, snip went the tongs." Mr. +Lincoln turned gravely around. "What do you reckon Sam'l said, Judge?" + +The Judge, at random, summoned up a good one, to the delight of the +audience. + +"Judge," said Mr. Lincoln, with solemnity, "I reckon that's what you'd +have said. Sam'l never said a word, and the old man kept on eating his +dinner. One o'clock came, and the folks began to drop in again, but +Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the +door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up." +Here Mr. Lincoln bent forward a little, and his voice fell to a loud, +drawling whisper. "First thing you know, here come the whiskers peeping +up, then the pink eyes a--blinking at the forge, then--!" + +"Suddenly he brought the umbrellas together with whack. + +"'By God,' yells Sam'l, 'I have thee at last!'" + +Amid the shouts, Mr. Lincoln stood up, his long body swaying to and fro +as he lifted high the improvised tongs. They heard a terrified squeal, +and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,--it seemed before their +very eyes. And Stephen forgot the country tavern, the country +politician, and was transported straightway into the Quaker's smithy. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +IN WHICH STEPHEN LEARNS SOMETHING + +It was Mr. Lincoln who brought him back. The astonishing candidate for +the Senate had sunk into his chair, his face relaxed into sadness save +for the sparkle lurking in the eyes. So he sat, immobile, until the +laughter had died down to silence. Then he turned to Stephen. + +"Sonny," he said, "did you want to see me?" + +Stephen was determined to be affable and kind, and (shall we say it?) he +would not make Mr. Lincoln uncomfortable either by a superiority of +English or the certain frigidity of manner which people in the West said +he had. But he tried to imagine a Massachusetts senator, Mr. Sumner, +for instance, going through the rat story, and couldn't. Somehow, +Massachusetts senators hadn't this gift. And yet he was not quite sure +that it wasn't a fetching gift. Stephen did not quite like to be called +"Sonny." But he looked into two gray eyes, and at the face, and +something curious happened to him. How was he to know that thousands +of his countrymen were to experience the same sensation? + +"Sonny," said Mr. Lincoln again, "did you want to see me?" + +"Yes, sir." Stephen wondered at the "sir." It had been involuntary. +He drew from his inner pocket the envelope which the Judge had given him. + +Mr. Lincoln ripped it open. A document fell out, and a letter. He put +the document in his tall hat, which was upside down on the floor. As he +got deeper into the letter, he pursed his mouth, and the lines of his +face deepened in a smile. Then he looked up, grave again. + +Judge Whipple told you to run till you found me, did he, Mr. Brice?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is the Judge the same old criss-cross, contrary, violent fool that he +always was?" + +Providence put an answer in Stephen's mouth. + +"He's been very good to me, Mr. Lincoln." + +Mr. Lincoln broke into laughter. + +"Why, he's the biggest-hearted man I know. You know him, Oglesby,--Silas +Whipple. But a man has to be a Daniel or a General Putnam to venture +into that den of his. There's only one man in the world who can beard +Silas, and he's the finest states-right Southern gentleman you ever saw. +I mean Colonel Carvel. You've heard of him, Oglesby. Don't they quarrel +once in a while, Mr. Brice?" + +"They do have occasional arguments,' said Stephen, amused. + +"Arguments!" cried Mr. Lincoln; "well, I couldn't come as near to +fighting every day and stand it. If my dog and Bill's dog across the +street walked around each other and growled for half a day, and then lay +down together, as Carvel and Whipple do, by Jing, I'd put pepper on their +noses--" + +"I reckon Colonel Carvel isn't a fighting man," said some one, at random. + +Strangely enough, Stephen was seized with a desire to vindicate the +Colonel's courage. Both Mr. Lincoln and Judge Oglesby forestalled him. + +"Not a fighting man!" exclaimed the Judge. "Why, the other day--" + +"Now, Oglesby," put in Mr. Lincoln, "I wanted to tell that story." + +Stephen had heard it, and so have we. But Mr. Lincoln's imitation of the +Colonel's drawl brought him a pang like homesickness. + +"'No, suh, I didn't intend to shoot. Not if he had gone off straight. +But he wriggled and twisted like a rattlesnake, and I just couldn't +resist, suh. Then I sent m'nigger Ephum to tell him not to let me catch +sight of him 'round the Planters' House. Yes, suh, that's what he was. +One of these damned Yankees who come South and go into nigger-deals and +politics."' + +Mr. Lincoln glanced at Stephen, and then again at the Judge's letter. +He took up his silk hat and thrust that, too, into the worn lining, which +was already filled with papers. He clapped the hat on his head, and +buttoned on his collar. + +"I reckon I'll go for a walk, boys," he said, "and clear my head, so as +to be ready for the Little Giant to-morrow at Freeport. Mr. Brice, do +you feel like walking?" + +Stephen, taken aback, said that he did. + +"Now, Abe, this is just durned foolishness," one of the gentlemen +expostulated. "We want to know if you're going to ask Douglas that +question." + +"If you do, you kill yourself, Lincoln," said another, who Stephen +afterwards learned was Mr. Medill, proprietor of the great 'Press and +Tribune'. + +"I guess I'll risk it, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, gravely. Suddenly comes +the quiver about the corners of his mouth and the gray eyes respond. +"Boys," said he, "did you ever hear the story of farmer Bell, down in +Egypt? I'll tell it to you, boys, and then perhaps you'll know why I'll +ask Judge Douglas that question. Farmer Bell had the prize Bartlett pear +tree, and the prettiest gal in that section. And he thought about the +same of each of 'em. All the boys were after Sue Bell. But there was +only one who had any chance of getting her, and his name was Jim Rickets. +Jim was the handsomest man in that section. He's been hung since. But +Jim had a good deal out of life,--all the appetites, and some of the +gratifications. He liked Sue, and he liked a luscious Bartlett. And he +intended to have both. And it just so happened that that prize pear tree +had a whopper on that year, and old man Bell couldn't talk of anything +else. + +"Now there was an ugly galoot whose name isn't worth mentioning. He knew +he wasn't in any way fit for Sue, and he liked pears about as well as Jim +Rickets. Well, one night here comes Jim along the road, whistling; to +court Susan, and there was the ugly galoot a-yearning on the bank under +the pear tree. Jim was all fixed up, and he says to the galoot, 'Let's +have a throw.' Now the galoot knew old Bell was looking over the fence +So he says, 'All right,' and he gives Jim the first shot--Jim fetched +down the big pear, got his teeth in it, and strolled off to the house, +kind of pitiful of the galoot for a, half-witted ass. When he got to the +door, there was the old man. 'What are you here for?' says he. 'Why,' +says Rickets, in his off-hand way, for he always had great confidence, +'to fetch Sue.'" + +"The old man used to wear brass toes to keep his boots from wearing out," +said Mr. Lincoln, dreamily. + +"You see," continued Mr. Lincoln, "you see the galoot knew that Jim +Rickets wasn't to be trusted with Susan Bell." + +Some of the gentlemen appeared to see the point of this political +parable, for they laughed uproariously. The others laughed, too. Then +they slapped their knees, looked at Mr. Lincoln's face, which was +perfectly sober, and laughed again, a little fainter. Then the Judge +looked as solemn as his title. + +"It won't do, Abe," said he. "You commit suicide." + +"You'd better stick to the pear, Abe," said Mr. Medill, "and fight +Stephen A. Douglas here and now. This isn't any picnic. Do you know who +he is?" + +"Why, yes, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, amiably. "He's a man with tens of +thousands of blind followers. It's my business to make some of those +blind followers see." + +By this time Stephen was burning to know the question that Mr. Lincoln +wished to ask the Little Giant, and why the other gentlemen were against +it. But Mr. Lincoln surprised him still further in taking him by the +arm. Turning to the young reporter, Mr. Hill, who had finished his +writing, he said: + +"Bob, a little air will. do you good. I've had enough of the old boys +for a while, and I'm going to talk to somebody any own age." + +Stephen was halfway down the corridor when he discovered that he had +forgotten his hat. As he returned he heard somebody say: + +"If that ain't just like Abe. He stopped to pull a flea out of his +stocking when he was going to fight that duel with Shields, and now he's +walking with boys before a debate with the smartest man in this country. +And there's heaps of things he ought to discuss with us." + +"Reckon we haven't got much to do with it," said another, half laughing, +half rueful. "There's some things Abe won't stand." + +From the stairs Stephen saw Mr. Lincoln threading his way through the +crowd below, laughing at one, pausing to lay his hand on the shoulder of +another, and replying to a rough sally of a third to make the place a +tumult of guffaws. But none had the temerity to follow him. When +Stephen caught up with him in the little country street, he was talking +earnestly to Mr. Hill, the young reporter of the Press and Tribune. And +what do you think was the subject? The red comet in the sky that night. +Stephen kept pace in silence with Mr. Lincoln's strides, another shock in +store for him. This rail-splitter, this postmaster, this flat-boatman, +whom he had not credited with a knowledge of the New Code, was talking +Astronomy. And strange to say, Mr. Brice was learning. + +"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "can you elucidate the problem of the three +bodies?" + +To Stephen's surprise, Mr. Hill elucidated. + +The talk then fell upon novels and stories, a few of which Mr. Lincoln +seemed to have read. He spoke, among others, of the "Gold Bug." "The +story is grand," said. he, "but it might as well have been written of +Robinson Crusoe's island. What a fellow wants in a book is to know where +he is. There are not many novels, or ancient works for that matter, that +put you down anywhere." + +"There is that genuine fragment which Cicero has preserved from a last +work of Aristotle," said Mr. Hill, slyly. "'If there were beings who +lived in the depths & the earth, and could emerge through the open +fissures, and could suddenly behold the earth, the sea, and the:--vault +of heaven--'" + +"But you--you impostor," cried Mr. Lincoln, interrupting, "you're giving +us Humboldt's Cosmos." + +Mr. Hill owned up, laughing. + +It is remarkable how soon we accustom ourselves to a strange situation. +And to Stephen it was no less strange to be walking over a muddy road of +the prairie with this most singular man and a newspaper correspondent, +than it might have been to the sub-terrestrial inhabitant to emerge on +the earth's surface. Stephen's mind was in the process of a chemical +change: Suddenly it seemed to him as if he had known this tall Illinoisan +always. The whim of the senatorial candidate in choosing him for a +companion he did not then try to account for. + +"Come, Mr. Stephen," said Mr. Lincoln, presently, where do you hail +from?" Boston," said Stephen. + +"No!" said Mr. Lincoln, incredulously. "And how does it happen that you +come to me with a message from a rank Abolitionist lawyer in St. Louis?" + +"Is the Judge a friend of yours, sir?" Stephen asked. + +"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lincoln, "didn't he tell you he was?" + +"He said nothing at all, sir, except to tell me to travel until I found +you." + +"I call the Judge a friend of mine," said Mr. Lincoln. "He may not claim +me because I do not believe in putting all slave-owners to the sword." + +"I do not think that Judge Whipple is precisely an Abolitionist, sir." + +"What! And how do you feel, Mr. Stephen?" + +Stephen replied in figures. It was rare with him, and he must have +caught it from Mr. Lincoln. + +"I am not for ripping out the dam suddenly, sir, that would drown the +nation. I believe that the water can be drained off in some other way." + +Mr. Lincoln's direct answer to this was to give Stephen stinging slap +between the shoulder-blades. + +"God bless the boy!" he cried. "He has thought it out. Bob, take that +down for the Press and Tribune as coming from a rising young politician +of St. Louis." + +"Why," Stephen blurted out, "I--I thought you were an Abolitionist, Mr. +Lincoln." + +"Mr. Brice," said Mr. Lincoln, "I have as much use for the Boston +Liberator as I have for the Charleston Courier. You may guess how much +that is. The question is not whether we shall or shall not have slavery, +but whether slavery shall stay where it is, or be extended according to +Judge Douglas's ingenious plan. The Judge is for breeding worms. I am +for cauterizing the sore so that it shall not spread. But I tell you, +Mr. Brice, that this nation cannot exist half slave and half free." + +Was it the slap on the back that opened Stephen's eyes? It was certain +that as they returned to the tavern the man at his side was changed. He +need not have felt chagrined. Men in high places underestimated Lincoln, +or did not estimate him at all. Affection came first. The great warm +heart had claimed Stephen as it claimed all who came near it. + +The tavern was deserted save for a few stragglers. Under the dim light +at the bar Mr. Lincoln took off his hat and drew the Judge's letter from +the lining. + +"Mr. Stephen," said he, "would you like to come to Freeport with me +to-morrow and hear the debate?" + +An hour earlier he would have declined with thanks. But now! Now his +face lighted at the prospect, and suddenly fell again. Mr. Lincoln +guessed the cause. He laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, and +laughed. + +"I reckon you're thinking of what the Judge will say." + +Stephen smiled. + +"I'll take care of the Judge," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not afraid of +him." He drew forth from the inexhaustible hat a slip of paper, and +began to write. + +"There," said he, when he had finished, "a friend of mine is going to +Springfield in the morning, and he'll send that to the Judge." + +And this is what he had written:-- + + "I have borrowed Steve for a day or two, and guarantee + to return him a good Republican. + A. LINCOLN." + +It is worth remarking that this was the first time Mr. Brice had been +called "Steve" and had not resented it. + +Stephen was embarrassed. He tried to thank Mr. Lincoln, but that +gentleman's quizzical look cut him short. And the next remark made him +gasp. + +"Look here, Steve," said he, "you know a parlor from a drawing-room. +What did you think of me when you saw me to-night?" + +Stephen blushed furiously, and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. + +"I'll tell you," said Mr. Lincoln, with his characteristic smile, "you +thought that you wouldn't pick me out of a bunch of horses to race with +the Senator." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE QUESTION + +Many times since Abraham Lincoln has been called to that mansion which +God has reserved for the patriots who have served Him also, Stephen Brice +has thought of that steaming night in the low-ceiled room of the country +tavern, reeking with the smell of coarse food and hot humanity. He +remembers vividly how at first his gorge rose, and recalls how gradually +there crept over him a forgetfulness of the squalidity and discomfort. +Then came a space gray with puzzling wonder. Then the dawning of a +worship for a very ugly man in a rumpled and ill-made coat. + +You will perceive that there was hope for Stephen. On his shake-down +that night, oblivious to the snores of his companions and the droning of +the insects, he lay awake. And before his eyes was that strange, marked +face, with its deep lines that blended both humor and sadness there. It +was homely, and yet Stephen found himself reflecting that honesty was +just as homely, and plain truth. And yet both were beautiful to those +who had learned to love them. Just so this Mr. Lincoln. + +He fell asleep wondering why Judge Whipple had sent him. + +It was in accord with nature that reaction came with the morning. Such a +morning, and such a place! + +He was awakened, shivering, by the beat of rain on the roof, and +stumbling over the prostrate forms of the four Beaver brothers, reached +the window. Clouds filled the sky, and Joshway, whose pallet was under +the sill, was in a blessed state of moisture. + +No wonder some of his enthusiasm had trickled away! + +He made his toilet in the wet under the pump outside; where he had to +wait his turn. And he rather wished he were going back to St. Louis. +He had an early breakfast of fried eggs and underdone bacon, and coffee +which made him pine for Hester's. The dishes were neither too clean nor +too plentiful, being doused in water as soon as ever they were out of +use. + +But after breakfast the sun came out, and a crowd collected around the +tavern, although the air was chill and the muck deep in the street. +Stephen caught glimpses of Mr. Lincoln towering above the knots of +country politicians who surrounded him, and every once in a while a knot +would double up with laughter. There was no sign that the senatorial +aspirant took the situation seriously; that the coming struggle with his +skilful antagonist was weighing him down in the least. Stephen held +aloof from the groups, thinking that Mr. Lincoln had forgotten him. He +decided to leave for St. Louis on the morning train, and was even pushing +toward the tavern entrance with his bag in his hand, when he was met by +Mr. Hill. + +"I had about given you up, Mr. Brice," he said. "Mr. Lincoln asked me to +get hold of you, and bring you to him alive or dead." + +Accordingly Stephen was led to the station, where a long train of twelve +cars was pulled up, covered with flags and bunting. On entering one of +these, he perceived Mr. Lincoln sprawled (he could think of no other word +to fit the attitude) on a seat next the window, and next him was Mr. +Medill of the Press and Tribune. The seat just in front was reserved for +Mr. Hill, who was to make any notes necessary. Mr. Lincoln looked up. +His appearance was even less attractive than the night before, as he had +on a dirty gray linen duster. + +"I thought you'd got loose, Steve," he said, holding out his hand. "Glad +to see you. Just you sit down there next to Bob, where I can talk to +you." + +Stephen sat down, diffident, for he knew that there were others in that +train who would give ten years of their lives for that seat. + +"I've taken a shine to this Bostonian, Joe," said Mr Lincoln to Mr. +Medill. "We've got to catch 'em young to do anything with 'em, you know. +Now, Steve, just give me a notion how politics are over in St. Louis. +What do they think of our new Republican party? Too bran new for old St. +Louis, eh?" + +Stephen saw expostulation in Mr. Medill's eyes, and hesitated. And Mr. +Lincoln seemed to feel Medill's objections, as by mental telepathy. But +he said:-- + +"We'll come to that little matter later, Joe, when the cars start." + +Naturally, Stephen began uneasily. But under the influence of that +kindly eye he thawed, and forgot himself. He felt that this man was not +one to feign an interest. The shouts of the people on the little +platform interrupted the account, and the engine staggered off with its +load. + +"I reckon St. Louis is a nest of Southern Democrats," Mr. Lincoln +remarked, "and not much opposition." + +"There are quite a few Old Line Whigs, sir," ventured Stephen, smiling. + +"Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, "did you ever hear Warfield's definition of an +Old Line Whig?" + +Mr. Medill had not. + +"A man who takes his toddy regularly, and votes the Democratic ticket +occasionally, and who wears ruffled shirts." + +Both of these gentlemen laughed, and two more in the seat behind, who had +an ear to the conversation. + +"But, sir," said Stephen, seeing that he was expected to go on, "I think +that the Republican party will gather a considerable strength there in +another year or two. We have the material for powerful leaders in Mr. +Blair and others" (Mr. Lincoln nodded at the name). "We are getting an +ever increasing population from New England, mostly of young men who will +take kindly to the new party." And then he added, thinking of his +pilgrimage the Sunday before: "South St. Louis is a solid mass of +Germans, who are all antislavery. But they are very foreign still, and +have all their German institutions." + +"The Turner Halls?" Mr. Lincoln surprised him by inquiring. + +"Yes. And I believe that they drill there." + +"Then they will the more easily be turned into soldiers if the time +should come," said Mr. Lincoln. And he added quickly, "I pray that it +may not." + +Stephen had cause to remember that observation, and the acumen it showed, +long afterward. + +The train made several stops, and at each of them shoals of country +people filled the aisles, and paused for a most familiar chat with the +senatorial candidate. Many called him Abe. His appearance was the equal +in roughness to theirs, his manner if anything was more democratic,--yet +in spite of all this Stephen in them detected a deference which might +almost be termed a homage. There were many women among them. Had our +friend been older, he might have known that the presence of good women +in a political crowd portends something. As it was, he was surprised. +He was destined to be still more surprised that day. + +When they had left behind them the shouts of the little down of Dixon, +Mr. Lincoln took off his hat, and produced a crumpled and not too +immaculate scrap of paper from the multitude therein. + +"Now, Joe," said he, "here are the four questions I intend to ask Judge +Douglas. I am ready for you. Fire away." + +"We don't care anything about the others," answered Mr. Medill. "But I +tell you this. If you ask that second one, you'll never see the United +States Senate." + +"And the Republican party in this state will have had a blow from which +it can scarcely recover," added Mr. Judd, chairman of the committee. + +Mr. Lincoln did not appear to hear them. His eyes were far away over the +wet prairie. + +Stephen held his breath. But neither he, nor Medill, nor Judd, nor Hill +guessed at the pregnancy of that moment. How were they to know that the +fate of the United States of America was concealed in that Question, +--was to be decided on a rough wooden platform that day in the town of +Freeport, Illinois? + +But Abraham Lincoln, the uncouth man in the linen duster with the tousled +hair, knew it. And the stone that was rejected of the builders was to +become the corner-stone of the temple. + +Suddenly Mr. Lincoln recalled himself, glanced at the paper, and cleared +his throat. In measured tones, plainly heard above the rush and roar of +the train, he read the Question: + + "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way, + against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude + slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State + Constitution?" + +Mr. Medill listened intently. + +"Abe," said he, solemnly, "Douglas will answer yes, or equivocate, and +that is all the assurance these Northern Democrats want to put Steve +Douglas in the Senate. They'll snow you under." + +"All right," answered Mr. Lincoln, quietly. + +"All right?" asked Mr. Medill, reflecting the sheer astonishment of the +others; "then why the devil are you wearing yourself out? And why are we +spending our time and money on you?" + +Mr. Lincoln laid his hand on Medill's sleeve. + +"Joe," said he, "a rat in the larder is easier to catch than a rat that +has the run of the cellar. You know, where to set your trap in the +larder. I'll tell you why I'm in this campaign: to catch Douglas now, +and keep him out of the White House in 1860. To save this country of +ours, Joe. She's sick." + +There was a silence, broken by two exclamations. + +"But see here, Abe," said Mr. Medill, as soon as ever he got his breath, +"what have we got to show for it? Where do you come in?" + +Mr. Lincoln smiled wearily. + +"Nowhere, I reckon," he answered simply. + +"Good Lord!" said Mr. Judd. + +Mr. Medill gulped. + +"You mean to say, as the candidate of the Republican party, you don't +care whether you get to the Senate?" + +"Not if I can send Steve Douglas there with his wings broken," was the +calm reply. + +"Suppose he does answer yes, that slavery can be excluded?" said Mr. +Judd. + +"Then," said Mr. Lincoln, "then Douglas loses the vote of the great +slave-holders, the vote of the solid South, that he has been fostering +ever since he has had the itch to be President. Without the solid South +the Little Giant will never live in the White House. And unless I'm +mightily mistaken, Steve Douglas has had his aye as far ahead as 1860 for +some time." + +Another silence followed these words. There was a stout man standing in +the aisle, and he spat deftly out of the open window. + +"You may wing Steve Douglas, Abe," said he, gloomily, "but the gun will +kick you over the bluff." + +"Don't worry about me, Ed," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not worth it." + +In a wave of comprehension the significance of all this was revealed to +Stephen Brice, The grim humor, the sagacious statesmanship, and (best of +all)--the superb self sacrifice of it, struck him suddenly. I think it +was in that hour that he realized the full extent of the wisdom he was +near, which was like unto Solomon's. + +Shame surged in Stephen's face that he should have misjudged him. He had +come to patronize. He had remained to worship. And in after years, when +he thought of this new vital force which became part of him that day, it +was in the terms of Emerson: "Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, +and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every +pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be +misunderstood." + +How many have conversed with Lincoln before and since, and knew him not! + +If an outward and visible sign of Mr. Lincoln's greatness were needed,-- +he had chosen to speak to them in homely parables. The story of Farmer +Bell was plain as day. Jim Rickets, who had life all his own way, was +none other than Stephen A. Douglas, the easily successful. The ugly +galoot, who dared to raise his eyes only to the pear, was Mr. Lincoln +himself. And the pear was the Senatorship, which the galoot had denied +himself to save Susan from being Mr. Rickets' bride. + +Stephen could understand likewise the vehemence of the Republican leaders +who crowded around their candidate and tried to get him to retract that +Question. He listened quietly, he answered with a patient smile. Now +and then he threw a story into the midst of this discussion which made +them laugh in spite of themselves. The hopelessness of the case was +quite plain to Mr. Hill, who smiled, and whispered in Stephen's ear: +"He has made up his mind. They will not budge him an inch, and they know +it." + +Finally Mr. Lincoln took the scrap of paper, which was even more dirty +and finger-marked by this time, and handed it to Mr. Hill. The train +was slowing down for Freeport. In the distance, bands could be heard +playing, and along the track, line upon line of men and women were +cheering and waving. It was ten o'clock, raw and cold for that time +of the year, and the sun was trying to come out. + +"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "be sure you get that right in your notes. And, +Steve, you stick close to me, and you'll see the show. Why, boys," he +added, smiling, "there's the great man's private car, cannon and all." + +All that Stephen saw was a regular day-car on a sidetrack. A brass +cannon was on the tender hitched behind it. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CRISIS + +Stephen A. Douglas, called the Little Giant on account of his intellect, +was a type of man of which our race has had some notable examples, +although they are not characteristic. Capable of sacrifice to their +country, personal ambition is, nevertheless, the mainspring of their +actions. They must either be before the public, or else unhappy. This +trait gives them a large theatrical strain, and sometimes brands them +as adventurers. Their ability saves them from being demagogues. + +In the case of Douglas, he had deliberately renewed some years before +the agitation on the spread of slavery, by setting forth a doctrine of +extreme cleverness. This doctrine, like many others of its kind, seemed +at first sight to be the balm it pretended, instead of an irritant, as it +really was. It was calculated to deceive all except thinking men, and to +silence all save a merciless logician. And this merciless logician, who +was heaven-sent in time of need, was Abraham Lincoln. + +Mr. Douglas was a juggler, a political prestidigitateur. He did things +before the eyes of the Senate and the nation. His balm for the healing +of the nation's wounds was a patent medicine so cleverly concocted that +experts alone could show what was in it. So abstruse and twisted were +some of Mr. Douglas's doctrines that a genius alone might put them into +simple words, for the common people. + +The great panacea for the slavery trouble put forth by Mr. Douglas at +that time was briefly this: that the people of the new territories should +decide for themselves, subject to the Constitution, whether they should +have slavery or not, and also decide for themselves all other questions +under the Constitution. Unhappily for Mr. Douglas, there was the famous +Dred Scott decision, which had set the South wild with joy the year +before, and had cast a gloom over the North. The Chief Justice of the +United States had declared that under the Constitution slaves were +property,--and as such every American citizen owning slaves could carry +them about with him wherever he went. Therefore the territorial +legislatures might pass laws until they were dumb, and yet their +settlers might bring with them all the slaves they pleased. + +And yet we must love the Judge. He was a gentleman, a strong man, and a +patriot. He was magnanimous, and to his immortal honor be it said that +he, in the end, won the greatest of all struggles. He conquered himself. +He put down that mightiest thing that was in him,--his ambition for +himself. And he set up, instead, his ambition for his country. He bore +no ill-will toward the man whose fate was so strangely linked to his, and +who finally came to that high seat of honor and of martyrdom which he +coveted. We shall love the Judge, and speak of him with reverence, for +that sublime act of kindness before the Capitol in 1861. + +Abraham Lincoln might have prayed on that day of the Freeport debate: + +"Forgive him, Lord. He knows not what he does." Lincoln descried the +danger afar, and threw his body into the breach. + +That which passed before Stephen's eyes, and to which his ears listened +at Freeport, was the Great Republic pressing westward to the Pacific. He +wondered whether some of his Eastern friends who pursed their lips when +the Wrest was mentioned would have sneered or prayed. A young English +nobleman who was there that day did not sneer. He was filled instead +with something like awe at the vigor of this nation which was sprung from +the loins of his own. Crudeness he saw, vulgarity he heard, but Force he +felt, and marvelled. + +America was in Freeport that day, the rush of her people and the surprise +of her climate. The rain had ceased, and quickly was come out of the +northwest a boisterous wind, chilled by the lakes and scented by the +hemlocks of the Minnesota forests. The sun smiled and frowned Clouds +hurried in the sky, mocking the human hubbub below. Cheering thousands +pressed about the station as Mr. Lincoln's train arrived. They hemmed +him in his triumphal passage under the great arching trees to the new +Brewster House. The Chief Marshal and his aides, great men before, were +suddenly immortal. The county delegations fell into their proper +precedence like ministers at a state dinner. "We have faith in Abraham, +Yet another County for the Rail-sputter, Abe the Giant-killer,"--so the +banners read. Here, much bedecked, was the Galena Lincoln Club, part of +Joe Davies's shipment. Fifes skirled, and drums throbbed, and the stars +and stripes snapped in the breeze. And here was a delegation headed by +fifty sturdy ladies on horseback, at whom Stephen gaped like a +countryman. Then came carryalls of all ages and degrees, wagons from +this county and that county, giddily draped, drawn by horses from one to +six, or by mules, their inscriptions addressing their senatorial +candidate in all degrees of familiarity, but not contempt. What they +seemed proudest of was that he had been a rail-splitter, for nearly all +bore a fence-rail. + +But stay, what is this wagon with the high sapling flagstaff in the +middle, and the leaves still on it? + + "Westward the Star of Empire takes its way. + The girls link on to Lincoln; their mothers were for Clay." + +Here was glory to blind you,--two and thirty maids in red sashes and blue +liberty caps with white stars. Each was a state of the Union, and every +one of them was for Abraham, who called them his "Basket of Flowers." +Behind them, most touching of all, sat a thirty-third shackled in chains. +That was Kansas. Alas, the men of Kansas was far from being as sorrowful +as the part demanded,--in spite of her instructions she would smile at +the boys. But the appealing inscription she bore, "Set me free" was +greeted with storms of laughter, the boldest of the young men shouting +that she was too beautiful to be free, and some of the old men, to their +shame be it said likewise shouted. No false embarrassment troubled +Kansas. She was openly pleased. But the young men who had brought their +sweethearts to town, and were standing hand in hand with them, for +obvious reasons saw nothing: They scarcely dared to look at Kansas, and +those who did were so loudly rebuked that they turned down the side +streets. + +During this part of the day these loving couples, whose devotion was so +patent to the whole world, were by far the most absorbing to Stephen. +He watched them having their fortunes told, the young women blushing and +crying, "Say!" and "Ain't he wicked?" and the young men getting their +ears boxed for certain remarks. He watched them standing open-mouthed at +the booths and side shows with hands still locked, or again they were +chewing cream candy in unison. Or he glanced sidewise at them, seated in +the open places with the world so far below them that even the insistent +sound of the fifes and drums rose but faintly to their ears. + +And perhaps,--we shall not say positively,--perhaps Mr. Brice's thoughts +went something like this, "O that love were so simple a matter to all!" +But graven on his face was what is called the" Boston scorn." And no +scorn has been known like unto it since the days of Athens. + +So Stephen made the best of his way to the Brewster House, the elegance +and newness of which the citizens of Freeport openly boasted. Mr. +Lincoln had preceded him, and was even then listening to a few remarks of +burning praise by an honorable gentleman. Mr. Lincoln himself made a few +remarks, which seemed so simple and rang so true, and were so free from +political rococo and decoration generally, that even the young men forgot +their sweethearts to listen. Then Mr. Lincoln went into the hotel, and +the sun slipped under a black cloud. + +The lobby was full, and rather dirty, since the supply of spittoons was +so far behind the demand. Like the firmament, it was divided into little +bodies which revolved about larger bodies. But there lacked not here +supporters of the Little Giant, and discreet farmers of influence in +their own counties who waited to hear the afternoon's debate before +deciding. These and others did not hesitate to tell of the magnificence +of the Little Giant's torchlight procession the previous evening. Every +Dred-Scottite had carried a torch, and many transparencies, so that the +very glory of it had turned night into day. The Chief Lictor had +distributed these torches with an unheard-of liberality. But there +lacked not detractors who swore that John Dibble and other Lincolnites +had applied for torches for the mere pleasure of carrying them. Since +dawn the delegations had been heralded from the house-tops, and wagered +on while they were yet as worms far out or the prairie. All the morning +these continued to came in, and form in line to march past their +particular candidate. The second great event of the day was the event of +the special over the Galena roar, of sixteen cars and more than a +thousand pairs of sovereign lungs. With military precision they repaired +to the Brewster House, and ahead of then a banner was flung: "Winnebago +County for the Tall Sucker." And the Tall Sucker was on the steps to +receive them. + +But Mr. Douglas, who had arrived the evening before to the booming of two +and thirty guns, had his banners end his bunting, too. The neighborhood +of Freeport was stronghold of Northern Democrats, ardent supporters of +the Little Giant if once they could believe that he did not intend to +betray them. + +Stephen felt in his bones the coming of a struggle, and was thrilled. +Once he smiled at the thought that he had become an active partisan--nay, +a worshipper--of the uncouth Lincoln. Terrible suspicion for a +Bostonian,--had he been carried away? Was his hero, after all, a +homespun demagogue? Had he been wise in deciding before he had taught a +glimpse of the accomplished Douglas, whose name end fame filled the land? +Stephen did not waver in his allegiance. But in his heart there lurked a +fear of the sophisticated Judge and Senator and man of the world whom he +had not yet seen. In his notebook he had made a, copy of the Question, +and young Mr. Hill discovered him pondering in a corner of the lobby at +dinnertime. After dinner they went together to their candidate's room. +They found the doors open and the place packed, and there was Mr. +Lincoln's very tall hat towering above those of the other politicians +pressed around him. Mr. Lincoln took three strides in Stephen's +direction and seized him by the shoulder. + +"Why, Steve," said he, "I thought you had got away again." Turning to a +big burly man with a good-natures face, who was standing by, he added. +"Jim, I want you to look out for this young man. Get him a seat on the +stands where he can hear." + +Stephen stuck close to Jim. He never knew what the gentleman's last name +was, or whether he had any. It was but a few minutes' walk to the grove +where the speaking was to be. And as they made their way thither Mr. +Lincoln passed them in a Conestoga wagon drawn by six milk-white horses. +Jim informed Stephen that the Little Giant had had a six-horse coach. +The grove was black with people. Hovering about the hem of the crowd +were the sunburned young men in their Sunday best, still clinging fast to +the hands of the young women. Bands blared "Columbia, Gem of the Ocean." +Fakirs planted their stands in the way, selling pain-killers and ague +cures, watermelons and lemonade, Jugglers juggled, and beggars begged. +Jim said that there were sixteen thousand people in that grove. And he +told the truth. + +Stephen now trembled for his champion. He tried to think of himself as +fifty years old, with the courage to address sixteen thousand people on +such a day, and quailed. What a man of affairs it must take to do that! +Sixteen thousand people, into each of whose breasts God had put different +emotions and convictions. He had never even imagined such a crowd as +this assembles merely to listen to a political debate. But then he +remembered, as they dodged from in front of the horses, what it was not +merely a political debate: The pulse of nation was here, a great nation +stricken with approaching fever. It was not now a case of excise, but of +existence. + +This son of toil who had driven his family thirty miles across the +prairie, blanketed his tired horses and slept on the ground the night +before, who was willing to stand all through the afternoon and listen +with pathetic eagerness to this debate, must be moved by a patriotism +divine. In the breast of that farmer, in the breast of his tired wife +who held her child by the hand, had been instilled from birth that +sublime fervor which is part of their life who inherit the Declaration of +Independence. Instinctively these men who had fought and won the West +had scented the danger. With the spirit of their ancestors who had left +their farms to die on the bridge at Concord, or follow Ethan Allen into +Ticonderoga, these had come to Freeport. What were three days of bodily +discomfort! What even the loss of part of a cherished crop, if the +nation's existence were at stake and their votes might save it! + +In the midst of that heaving human sea rose the bulwarks of a wooden +stand. But how to reach it? Jim was evidently a personage. The rough +farmers commonly squeezed a way for him. And when they did not, he made +it with his big body. As they drew near their haven, a great surging as +of a tidal wave swept them off their feet. There was a deafening shout, +and the stand rocked on its foundations. Before Stephen could collect +his wits, a fierce battle was raging about him. Abolitionist and +Democrat, Free Soiler and Squatter Sov, defaced one another in a rush for +the platform. The committeemen and reporters on top of it rose to its +defence. Well for Stephen that his companion was along. Jim was +recognized and hauled bodily into the fort, and Stephen after him. The +populace were driven off, and when the excitement died down again, he +found himself in the row behind the reporters. Young Mr. Hill paused +while sharpening his pencil to wave him a friendly greeting. + +Stephen, craning in his seat, caught sight of Mr. Lincoln slouched into +one of his favorite attitudes, his chin resting in his hand. + +But who is this, erect, compact, aggressive, searching with a confident +eye the wilderness of upturned faces? A personage, truly, to be +questioned timidly, to be approached advisedly. Here indeed was a lion, +by the very look of him, master of himself and of others. By reason of +its regularity and masculine strength, a handsome face. A man of the +world to the cut of the coat across the broad shoulders. Here was one to +lift a youngster into the realm of emulation, like a character in a play, +to arouse dreams of Washington and its senators and great men. For this +was one to be consulted by the great alone. A figure of dignity and +power, with magnetism to compel moods. Since, when he smiled, you warmed +in spite of yourself, and when he frowned the world looked grave. + +The inevitable comparison was come, and Stephen's hero was shrunk once +more. He drew a deep breath, searched for the word, and gulped. There +was but the one word. How country Abraham Lincoln looked beside Stephen +Arnold Douglas! + +Had the Lord ever before made and set over against each other two such +different men? Yes, for such are the ways of the Lord. + + ........................ + +The preliminary speaking was in progress, but Stephen neither heard nor +saw until he felt the heavy hand of his companion on his knee. + +"There's something mighty strange, like fate, between them two," he was +saying. "I recklect twenty-five years ago when they was first in the +Legislatur' together. A man told me that they was both admitted to +practice in the S'preme Court in '39, on the same day, sir. Then you +know they was nip an' tuck after the same young lady. Abe got her. +They've been in Congress together, the Little Giant in the Senate, and +now, here they be in the greatest set of debates the people of this state +ever heard; Young man, the hand of fate is in this here, mark my words--" + +There was a hush, and the waves of that vast human sea were stilled. A +man, lean, angular, with coat-tail: flapping-unfolded like a grotesque +figure at a side-show. + +No confidence was there. Stooping forward, Abraham Lincoln began to +speak, and Stephen Brice hung his head and shuddered. Could this shrill +falsetto be the same voice to which he had listened only that morning? +Could this awkward, yellow man with his hands behind his back be he whom +he had worshipped? Ripples of derisive laughter rose here and there, on +the stand and from the crowd. Thrice distilled was the agony of those +moments! + +But what was this feeling that gradually crept over him? Surprise? +Cautiously he raised his eyes. The hands were coming around to the +front. Suddenly one of them was thrown sharply back, with a determined +gesture, the head was raised,--and.--and his shame was for gotten. In +its stead wonder was come. But soon he lost even that, for his mind was +gone on a journey. And when again he came to himself and looked upon +Abraham Lincoln, this was a man transformed. The voice was no longer +shrill. Nay, it was now a powerful instrument which played strangely on +those who heard. Now it rose, and again it fell into tones so low as to +start a stir which spread and spread, like a ripple in a pond, until it +broke on the very edge of that vast audience. + + "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way, + against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude + slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State + Constitution?" + +It was out, at last, irrevocably writ in the recording book of History, +for better, for worse. Beyond the reach of politician, committee, or +caucus. But what man amongst those who heard and stirred might say that +these minutes even now basting into eternity held the Crisis of a nation +that is the hope of the world? Not you, Judge Douglas who sit there +smiling. Consternation is a stranger in your heart,--but answer the +question if you can. Yes, your nimble wit has helped you out of many a +tight corner. You do not feel the noose--as yet. You do not guess that +your reply will make or mar the fortunes of your country. It is not +you who can look ahead two short years and see the ship of Democracy +splitting on the rocks at Charleston and at Baltimore, when the power of +your name might have steered her safely. + +But see! what is this man about whom you despise? One by one he is +taking the screws out of the engine which you have invented to run your +ship. Look, he holds them in his hands without mixing them, and shows +the false construction of its secret parts. + +For Abraham Lincoln dealt with abstruse questions in language so limpid +that many a farmer, dulled by toil, heard and understood and marvelled. +The simplicity of the Bible dwells in those speeches, and they are now +classics in our literature. And the wonder in Stephen's mind was that +this man who could be a buffoon, whose speech was coarse and whose person +unkempt, could prove himself a tower of morality and truth. That has +troubled many another, before and since the debate at Freeport. + +That short hour came all too quickly to an end. And as the Moderator +gave the signal for Mr. Lincoln, it was Stephen's big companion who +snapped the strain, and voiced the sentiment of those about him. + +"By Gosh!" he cried, "he baffles Steve. I didn't think Abe had it in +him." + +The Honorable Stephen A. Douglas, however, seemed anything but baffled as +he rose to reply. As he waited for the cheers which greeted him to die +out, his attitude was easy and indifferent, as a public man's should be. +The question seemed not to trouble him in the least. But for Stephen +Brice the Judge stood there stripped of the glamour that made him, even +as Abraham Lincoln had stripped his doctrine of its paint and colors, and +left it punily naked. + +Standing up, the very person of the Little Giant was contradictory, as +was the man himself. His height was insignificant. But he had the head +and shoulders of a lion, and even the lion's roar. What at contrast the +ring of his deep bass to the tentative falsetto of Mr. Lincoln's opening +words. If Stephen expected the Judge to tremble, he was greatly +disappointed. Mr. Douglas was far from dismay. As if to show the people +how lightly he held his opponent's warnings, he made them gape by putting +things down Mr. Lincoln's shirt-front and taking them out of his mouth: +But it appeared to Stephen, listening with all his might, that the Judge +was a trifle more on the defensive than his attitude might lead one to +expect. Was he not among his own Northern Democrats at Freeport? And +yet it seemed to give him a keen pleasure to call his hearers "Black +Republicans." "Not black," came from the crowd again and again, and once +a man: shouted, "Couldn't you modify it and call it brown?" "Not a +whit!" cried the Judge, and dubbed them "Yankees," although himself a +Vermonter by birth. He implied that most of these Black Republicans +desired negro wives. + +But quick,--to the Question, How was the Little Giant, artful in debate +as he was, to get over that without offence to the great South? Very +skillfully the judge disposed of the first of the interrogations. And +then, save for the gusts of wind rustling the trees, the grove might have +been empty of its thousands, such was the silence that fell. But tighter +and tighter they pressed against the stand, until it trembled. + +Oh, Judge, the time of all artful men will come at length. How were you +to foresee a certain day under the White Dome of the Capitol? Had your +sight been long, you would have paused before your answer. Had your +sight been long, you would have seen this ugly Lincoln bareheaded before +the Nation, and you are holding his hat. Judge Douglas, this act alone +has redeemed your faults. It has given you a nobility of which we did +not suspect you. At the end God gave you strength to be humble, and so +you left the name of a patriot. + +Judge, you thought there was a passage between Scylla and Charybdis which +your craftiness might overcome. + + +"It matters not," you cried when you answered the Question, "it matters +not which way the Supreme Court may hereafter decide as to the abstract +question whether slavery may or may not go into a territory under the +Constitution. The people have the lawful means to introduce or to +exclude it as they please, for the reason that slavery cannot exist a day +or an hour anywhere unless it is supported by local police regulations." + +Judge Douglas, uneasy will you lie to-night, for you have uttered the +Freeport Heresy. + +It only remains to be told how Stephen Brice, coming to the Brewster +House after the debate, found Mr. Lincoln. On his knee, in transports +of delight, was a small boy, and Mr. Lincoln was serenely playing on the +child's Jew's-harp. Standing beside him was a proud father who had +dragged his son across two counties in a farm wagon, and who was to +return on the morrow to enter this event in the family Bible. In a +corner of the room were several impatient gentlemen of influence who +wished to talk about the Question. + +But when he saw Stephen, Mr. Lincoln looked up with a smile of welcome +that is still, and ever will be, remembered and cherished. + +Tell Judge Whipple that I have attended to that little matter, Steve," he +said. + +"Why, Mr. Lincoln," he exclaimed, "you have had no time." + +"I have taken the time," Mr. Lincoln replied, "and I think that I am well +repaid. Steve," said he, "unless I'm mightily mistaken, you know a +little more than you did yesterday." + +"Yes, sir! I do," said Stephen. + +"Come, Steve," said Mr. Lincoln, "be honest. Didn't you feel sorry for +me last night?" + +Stephen flushed scarlet. + +"I never shall again, sir," he said. + +The wonderful smile, so ready to come and go, flickered and went out. +In its stead on the strange face was ineffable sadness,--the sadness of +the world's tragedies, of Stephen stoned, of Christ crucified. + +"Pray God that you may feel sorry for me again," he said. + +Awed, the child on his lap was still. The politician had left the room. +Mr. Lincoln had kept Stephen's hand in his own. + +"I have hopes of you, Stephen," he said. "Do not forget me." + +Stephen Brice never has. Why was it that he walked to the station with a +heavy heart? It was a sense of the man he had left, who had been and was +to be. This Lincoln of the black loam, who built his neighbor's cabin +and hoed his neighbor's corn, who had been storekeeper and postmaster and +flat-boatman. Who had followed a rough judge dealing a rough justice +around a rough circuit; who had rolled a local bully in the dirt; rescued +women from insult; tended the bedside of many a sick coward who feared +the Judgment; told coarse stories on barrels by candlelight (but these +are pure beside the vice of great cities); who addressed political mobs +in the raw, swooping down from the stump and flinging embroilers east and +west. This physician who was one day to tend the sickbed of the Nation +in her agony; whose large hand was to be on her feeble pulse, and whose +knowledge almost divine was to perform the miracle of her healing. So +was it that, the Physician Himself performed His cures, and when work was +done, died a martyr. + +Abraham Lincoln died in His name + + + + +CHAPTER V1 + +It was nearly noon when Stephen walked into the office the next day, +dusty and travel-worn and perspiring. He had come straight from the +ferry, without going home. And he had visions of a quiet dinner with +Richter under the trees at the beer-garden, where he could talk about +Abraham Lincoln. Had Richter ever heard of Lincoln? + +But the young German met him at the top of the stair--and his face was +more serious than usual, although he showed his magnificent teeth in a +smile of welcome. + +"You are a little behind your time, my friend," said he, "What has +happened you?" + +"Didn't the Judge get Mr, Lincoln's message?" asked Stephen, with +anxiety. + +The German shrugged his shoulders. + +"Ah, I know not," he answered, "He has gone is Glencoe. The Judge is +ill, Stephen. Doctor Polk says that he has worked all his life too hard. +The Doctor and Colonel Carvel tried to get him to go to Glencoe. But he +would not budge until Miss Carvel herself comes all the way from the +country yesterday, and orders him. Ach! exclaimed Richter, impulsively, +"what wonderful women you have in America! I could lose my head when I +think of Miss Carvel." + +"Miss Carvel was here, you say?" Stephen repeated, in a tone of inquiry, + +"Donner!" said Richter, disgusted, "you don't care." + +Stephen laughed, in spite of himself. + +"Why should I?" he answered. And becoming grave again, added: "Except on +Judge Whipple's account. Have you heard from him to-day, Carl?" + +"This morning one of Colonel Carvel's servants came for his letters. He +must be feeling better. I--I pray that he is better," said Richter, his +voice breaking. "He has been very good to me." + +Stephen said nothing. But he had been conscious all at once of an +affection for the Judge of which he had not suspected himself. That +afternoon, on his way home, he stopped at Carvel & Company's to inquire. +Mr. Whipple was better, so Mr. Hopper said, and added that he "presumed +likely the Colonel would not be in for a week." It was then Saturday. +Eliphalet was actually in the Colonel's sanctum behind the partition, +giving orders to several clerks at the time. He was so prosperous and +important that he could scarce spare a moment to answer Stephen, who went +away wondering whether he had been wise to choose the law. + +On Monday, when Stephen called at Carvel & Company's, Eliphalet was too +busy to see him. But Ephum, who went out to Glencoe every night with +orders, told him that the "Jedge was wuss, suh." On Wednesday, there +being little change, Mrs. Brice ventured to despatch a jelly by Ephum. +On Friday afternoon, when Stephen was deep in Whittlesey and the New +Code, he became aware of Ephum standing beside him. In reply to his +anxious question Ephum answered: + +"I reckon he better, suh. He an' de Colonel done commence wrastlin' +'bout a man name o' Linkum. De Colonel done wrote you dis note, suh." + +It was a very polite note, containing the Colonel's compliments, asking +Mr. Brice to Glencoe that afternoon with whatever papers or letters the +Judge might wish to see. And since there was no convenient train in the +evening, Colonel Carvel would feel honored if Mr. Brice would spend the +night. The Colonel mentioned the train on which Mr. Brice was expected. + +The Missouri side of the Mississippi is a very different country from the +hot and treeless prairies of Illinois. As Stephen alighted at the little +station at Glencoe and was driven away by Ned in the Colonel's buggy, he +drew in deep breaths of the sweet air of the Meramec Valley. + +There had been a shower, and the sun glistened on the drops on grass and +flowers, and the great trees hung heavy over the clay road. At last they +came to a white gate in the picket fence, in sight of a rambling wooden +house with a veranda in front covered with honeysuckle. And then he saw +the Colonel, in white marseilles, smoking a cigar. This, indeed, was +real country. + +As Stephen trod the rough flags between the high grass which led toward +the house, Colonel Carvel rose to his full height and greeted him. + +"You are very welcome, sir," he said gravely. "The Judge is asleep now," +he added. "I regret to say that we had a little argument this morning, +and my daughter tells me it will be well not to excite him again to-day. +Jinny is reading to him now, or she would be here to entertain you, Mr. +Brice. Jackson!" cried Mr. Carvel, "show Mr. Brice to his room." + +Jackson appeared hurriedly, seized Stephen's bag, and led the way +upstairs through the cool and darkened house to a pretty little room on +the south side, with matting, and roses on the simple dressing-table. +After he had sat awhile staring at these, and at the wet flower-garden +from between the slats of his shutters, he removed the signs of the +railroad upon him, and descended. The Colonel was still on the porch, in +his easy-chair. He had lighted another, cigar, and on the stand beside +him stood two tall glasses, green with the fresh mint. Colonel Carvel +rose, and with his own hand offered one to Stephen. + +"Your health, Mr. Brice," he said, "and I hope you will feel at home +here, sir. Jackson will bring you anything you desire, and should you +wish to drive, I shall be delighted to show you the country." + +Stephen drank that julep with reverence, and then the Colonel gave him a +cigar. He was quite overcome by this treatment of a penniless young +Yankee. The Colonel did not talk politics--such was not his notion of +hospitality to a stranger. He talked horse, and no great discernment on +Stephen's part was needed to perceive that this was Mr. Carvel's hobby. + +"I used to have a stable, Mr. Brice, before they ruined gentleman's sport +with these trotters ten years ago. Yes sir, we used to be at Lexington +one week, and Louisville the next, and over here on the Ames track after +that. Did you ever hear of Water Witch and Netty Boone?" + +Yes, Stephen had, from Mr. Jack Brinsmade. + +The Colonel's face beamed. + +"Why, sir," he cried, "that very nigger, Ned, who drove you here from the +cars-he used to ride Netty Boone. Would you believe that, Mr. Brice? He +was the best jockey ever strode a horse on the Elleardsville track here. +He wore my yellow and green, sir, until he got to weigh one hundred and a +quarter. And I kept him down to that weight a whole year, Mr. Brice. +Yes, sirree, a whole year." + +"Kept him down!" said Stephen. + +"Why, yes, sir. I had him wrapped in blankets and set in a chair with +holes bored in the seat. Then we lighted a spirit lamp under him. Many +a time I took off ten pounds that way. It needs fire to get flesh off a +nigger, sir." + +He didn't notice his guest's amazement. + +"Then, sir," he continued, "they introduced these damned trotting races; +trotting races are for white trash, Mr. Brice." + +"Pa!" + +The Colonel stopped short. Stephen was already on his feet. I wish you +could have seen Miss Virginia Carvel as he saw her then. She wore a +white lawn dress. A tea-tray was in her hand, and her head was tilted +back, as women are apt to do when they carry a burden. It was so that +these Southern families, who were so bitter against Abolitionists and +Yankees, entertained them when they were poor, and nursed them when they +were ill. + +Stephen, for his life, could not utter a word. But Virginia turned to +him with perfect self-possession. + +"He has been boring you with his horses, Mr. Brice," she said. "Has he +told you what a jockey Ned used to be before he weighed one hundred and +a quarter?" (A laugh.) "Has he given you the points of Water Witch and +Netty Boone?" (More laughter, increasing embarrassment for Stephen.) +"Pa, I tell you once more that you will drive every guest from this +house. Your jockey talk is intolerable." + +O that you might have a notion of the way in which Virginia pronounced +intolerable. + +Mr. Carvel reached for another cigar asked, "My dear," he asked, "how is +the Judge?" + +"My dear," said Virginia, smiling, "he is asleep. Mammy Easter is with +him, trying to make out what he is saying. He talks in his sleep, just +as you do--" + +"And what is he saying?" demanded the Colonel, interested. + +Virginia set down the tray. + +"'A house divided against itself,"' said Miss Carvel, with a sweep of her +arm, 'cannot stand. I believe that this Government cannot endure +permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to +dissolve--I do not expect the house to fall--but I do expect it will +cease to be divided.' Would you like any more?" added Miss Virginia. + +"No," cried the Colonel, and banged his fist down on the table. "Why," +said he, thoughtfully, stroking the white goatee on his chin, "cuss me if +that ain't from the speech that country bumpkin, Lincoln, made in June +last before the Black Republican convention in Illinois." + +Virginia broke again into laughter. And Stephen was very near it, for he +loved the Colonel. That gentleman suddenly checked himself in his +tirade, and turned to him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "I reckon that you have the same +political sentiments as the Judge. Believe me, sir, I would not +willingly offend a guest." + +Stephen smiled. "I am not offended, sir," he said. A speech which +caused Mr. Carvel to bestow a quick glance upon him. But Stephen did not +see it. He was looking at Virginia. + +The Colonel rose. + +"You will pardon my absence for a while, sir," he said, + +"My daughter will entertain you." + +In silence they watched him as he strode off under the trees through tall +grass, a yellow setter at his heels. A strange peace was over Stephen. +The shadows of the walnuts and hickories were growing long, and a rich +country was giving up its scent to the evening air. From a cabin behind +the house was wafted the melody of a plantation song. To the young man, +after the burnt city, this was paradise. And then he remembered his +mother as she must be sitting on the tiny porch in town, and sighed. +Only two years ago she had been at their own place at Westbury. + +He looked up, and saw the girl watching him. He dared not think that the +expression he caught was one of sympathy, for it changed instantly. + +"I am afraid you are the silent kind, Mr. Brice," said she; "I believe it +is a Yankee trait." + +Stephen laughed. + +"I have known a great many who were not," said he, "When they are +garrulous, they are very much so." + +"I should prefer a garrulous one," said Virginia. + +"I should think a Yankee were bad enough, but a noisy Yankee not to be +put up with," he ventured. + +Virginia did not deign a direct reply to this, save by the corners of her +mouth. + +"I wonder," said she, thoughtfully, "whether it is strength of mind or a +lack of ideas that makes them silent." + +"It is mostly prudence," said Mr. Brice. "Prudence is our dominant +trait." + +Virginia fidgeted. Usually she had an easier time. + +"You have not always shown it," she said, with an innocence which in +women is often charged with meaning. + +Stephen started. Her antagonism was still there. He would have liked +greatly to know whether she referred to his hasty purchase of Hester, or +to his rashness in dancing with her at her party the winter before. + +"We have something left to be thankful for," he answered. "We are still +capable of action." + +"On occasions it is violence," said Virginia, desperately. This man must +not get ahead of her. + +"It is just as violent," said he, "as the repressed feeling which prompts +it." + +This was a new kind of conversation to Virginia. Of all the young men +she knew, not one had ever ventured into anything of the sort. They were +either flippant, or sentimental, or both. She was at once flattered and +annoyed, flattered, because, as a woman, Stephen had conceded her a mind. +Many of the young men she knew had minds, but deemed that these were +wasted on women, whose language was generally supposed to be a kind of +childish twaddle. Even Jack Brinsmade rarely risked his dignity and +reputation at an intellectual tilt. This was one of Virginia's +grievances. She often argued with her father, and, if the truth were +told, had had more than one victory over Judge Whipple. + +Virginia's annoyance came from the fact that she perceived in Stephen a +natural and merciless logic,--a faculty for getting at the bottom of +things. His brain did not seem to be thrown out of gear by local +magnetic influences,--by beauty, for instance. He did not lose his head, +as did some others she knew, at the approach of feminine charms. Here +was a grand subject, then, to try the mettle of any woman. One with less +mettle would have given it up. But Virginia thought it would be +delightful to bring this particular Yankee to his knees; and--and leave +him there. + +"Mr. Brice," she said, "I have not spoken to you since the night of my +party. I believe we danced together." + +"Yes, we did," said he, "and I called, but was unfortunate." + +"You called?" + +Ah, Virginia! + +"They did not tell you!" cried Stephen. + +Now Miss Carvel was complacency itself. + +"Jackson is so careless with cards," said she, "and very often I do not +take the trouble to read them." + +"I am sorry," said he, "as I wished for the opportunity to tell you how +much I enjoyed myself. I have found everybody in St. Louis very kind to +strangers." + +Virginia was nearly disarmed. She remembered how, she had opposed his +coning. But honesty as well as something else prompted her to say: +"It was my father who invited you." + +Stephen did not reveal the shock his vanity had received. + +"At least you were good enough to dance with me." + +"I could scarcely refuse a guest," she replied. + +He held up his head. + +"Had I thought it would have given you annoyance," he said quietly, "I +should not have asked you." + +"Which would have been a lack of good manners," said Virginia, biting her +lips. + +Stephen answered nothing, but wished himself in St. Louis. He could not +comprehend her cruelty. But, just then, the bell rang for supper, and +the Colonel appeared around the end of the house. + +It was one of those suppers for which the South is renowned. And when at +length he could induce Stephen to eat no more, Colonel Carvel reached for +his broad-brimmed felt bat, and sat smoking, with his feet against the +mantle. Virginia, who had talked but little, disappeared with a tray on +which she had placed with her own hands some dainties to tempt the Judge. + +The Colonel regaled Stephen, when she was gone, with the pedigree and +performance of every horse he had had in his stable. And this was a +relief, as it gave him an opportunity to think without interruption upon +Virginia's pronounced attitude of dislike. To him it was inconceivable +that a young woman of such qualities as she appeared to have, should +assail him so persistently for freeing a negress, and so depriving her +of a maid she had set her heart upon. There were other New England young +men in society. Mr. Weston and Mr. Carpenter, and more. They were not +her particular friends, to be sure. But they called on her and danced +with her, and she had shown them not the least antipathy. But it was to +Stephen's credit that he did not analyze her further. + +He was reflecting on these things when he got to his room, when there +came a knock at the door. It was Mammy Easter, in bright turban and +apron,--was hospitality and comfort in the flesh. + +"Is you got all you need, suh?" she inquired. + +Stephen replied that he had. But Mammy showed no inclination to go, and +he was too polite to shut the door: + +"How you like Glencoe, Mistah Bride?" + +He was charmed with it. + +"We has some of de fust fam'lies out heah in de summer," said she. "But +de Colonel, he a'n't much on a gran' place laik in Kaintuck. Shucks, no, +suh, dis ain't much of a 'stablishment! Young Massa won't have no lawns, +no greenhouses, no nothin'. He say he laik it wil' and simple. He on'y +come out fo' two months, mebbe. But Miss Jinny, she make it lively. +Las' week, until the Jedge come we hab dis house chuck full, two-three +young ladies in a room, an' five young gemmen on trunnle beds." + +"Until the Judge came?" echoed Stephen. + +"Yassuh. Den Miss Jinny low dey all hatter go. She say she a'n't +gwineter have 'em noun' 'sturbin' a sick man. De Colonel 'monstrated. +He done give the Judge his big room, and he say he and de young men gwine +ober to Mista, Catherwood's. You a'n't never seen Miss Jinny rise up, +suh! She des swep' 'em all out" (Mammy emphasized this by rolling her +hands) "an' declah she gwine ten' to the Jedge herself. She a'n't never +let me bring up one of his meals, suh." And so she left Stephen with +some food for reflection. + +Virginia was very gay at breakfast, and said that the Judge would see +Stephen; so he and the Colonel, that gentleman with his hat on, went up +to his room. The shutters were thrown open, and the morning sunlight +filtered through the leaves and fell on the four-poster where the Judge +sat up, gaunt and grizzled as ever. He smiled at his host, and then +tried to destroy immediately the effect of the smile. + +"Well, Judge," cried the Colonel, taking his hand, "I reckon we talked +too much." + +"No such thing, Carvel," said the Judge, forcibly, "if you hadn't left the +room, your popular sovereignty would have been in rags in two minutes." + +Stephen sat down in a corner, unobserved, in expectation of a renewal. +But at this moment Miss Virginia swept into the room, very cool in a pink +muslin. + +"Colonel Carvel," said she, sternly, "I am the doctor's deputy here. I +was told to keep the peace at any cost. And if you answer back, out you +go, like that!" and she snapped her fingers. + +The Colonel laughed. But the Judge, whose mind was on the argument, +continued to mutter defiantly until his eye fell upon Stephen. + +"Well, sir, well, sir," he said, "you've turned up at last, have you? I +send you off with papers for a man, and I get back a piece of yellow +paper saying that he's borrowed you. What did he do with you, Mr. +Brice?" + +"He took me to Freeport, sir, where I listened to the most remarkable +speech I ever expect to hear." + +"What!" cried the Judge, "so far from Boston?" + +Stephen hesitated, uncertain whether to laugh, until he chanced to look +at Virginia. She had pursed her lips. + +"I was very much surprised, sir," he said. + +"Humph!" grunted Mr. Whipple, "and what did you chink of that ruffian, +Lincoln?" + +"He is the most remarkable man that I have ever met, sir," answered +Stephen, with emphasis. + +"Humph!" + +It seemed as if the grunt this time had in it something of approval. +Stephen had doubt as to the propriety of discussing Mr. Lincoln there, +and he reddened. Virginia's expression bore a trace of defiance, and Mr. +Carvel stood with his feet apart, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. But +Mr. Whipple seemed to have no scruples. + +"So you admired Lincoln, Mr. Brice?" he went on. "You must agree with +that laudatory estimation of him which I read in the Missouri Democrat." + +Stephen fidgeted. + +"I do, sir, most decidedly," he answered. + +"I should hardly expect a conservative Bostonian, of the class which +respects property, to have said that. It might possibly be a good thing +if more from your town could hear those debates." + +"They will read them, sir; I feel confident of it." + +At this point the Colonel could contain himself no longer. + +"I reckon I might tell the man who wrote that Democrat article a few +things, if I could find out who he is," said he. + +"Pa!" said Virginia, warningly. + +But Stephen had turned a fiery red, + +"I wrote it, Colonel Carvel," he said, + +For a dubious instant of silence Colonel Carvel stared. Then--then he +slapped his knees, broke into a storm of laughter, and went out of the +room. He left Stephen in a moist state of discomfiture. + +The Judge had bolted upright from the pillows. + +"You have been neglecting your law, sir," he cried. + +"I wrote the article at night," said Stephen, indignantly. + +"Then it must have been Sunday night, Mr. Brice." + +At this point Virginia hid her face in her handkerchief which trembled +visibly. Being a woman, whose ways are unaccountable, the older man took +no notice of her. But being a young woman, and a pretty one, Stephen was +angry. + +"I don't see what right you have to ask me that sir," he said. + +"The question is withdrawn, Mr. Brice," said the Judge, "Virginia, you +may strike it from the records. And now, sir, tell me something about +your trip." + +Virginia departed. + +An hour later Stephen descended to the veranda, and it was with +apprehension that he discerned Mr. Carvel seated under the vines at the +far end. Virginia was perched on the railing. + +To Stephen's surprise the Colonel rose, and, coming toward him, laid a +kindly hand on his shoulder. + +"Stephen," said he, "there will be no law until Monday you must stay with +us until then. A little rest will do you good." + +Stephen was greatly touched. + +Thank you, sir," he said. "I should like to very much. But I can't." + +"Nonsense," said the Colonel. "I won't let the Judge interfere." + +"It isn't that, sir. I shall have to go by the two o'clock train, I +fear." + +The Colonel turned to Virginia, who, meanwhile, had sat silently by. + +"Jinny," he said, "we must contrive to keep him." + +She slid off the railing. + +"I'm afraid he is determined, Pa," she answered. "But perhaps Mr. Brice +would like to see a little of the place before he goes. It is very +primitive," she explained, "not much like yours in the East." + +Stephen thanked her, and bowed to the Colonel. And so she led him past +the low, crooked outbuildings at the back, where he saw old Uncle Ben +busy over the preparation of his dinner, and frisky Rosetta, his +daughter, playing with one of the Colonel's setters. Then Virginia took +a well-worn path, on each side of which the high grass bent with its load +of seed, which entered the wood. Oaks and hickories and walnuts and +persimmons spread out in a glade, and the wild grape twisted +fantastically around the trunks. All this beauty seemed but a fit +setting to the strong girlish figure in the pink frock before him. So +absorbed was he in contemplation of this, and in wondering whether indeed +she were to marry her cousin, Clarence Colfax, that he did not see the +wonders of view unrolling in front of him. She stopped at length beside +a great patch of wild race bushes. They were on the edge of the bluff, +and in front of them a little rustic summer-house, with seats on its five +sides. Here Virginia sat down. But Stephen, going to the edge, stood +and marvelled. Far, far below him, down the wooded steep, shot the +crystal Meramec, chafing over the shallow gravel beds and tearing +headlong at the deep passes. + +Beyond, the dimpled green hills rose and fell, and the stream ran indigo +and silver. A hawk soared over the, water, the only living creature in +all that wilderness. + +The glory of the place stirred his blood. And when at length he turned, +he saw that the girl was watching him. + +"It is very beautiful," he said. + +Virginia had taken other young men here, and they had looked only upon +her. And yet she was not offended. This sincerity now was as new to her +as that with which he had surprised her in the Judge's room. + +And she was not quite at her ease. A reply to those simple words of his +was impossible. At honest Tom Catherwood in the same situation she would +have laughed, Clarence never so much as glanced at scenery. Her replies +to him were either flippant, or else maternal, as to a child. + +A breeze laden with the sweet abundance of that valley stirred her hair. +And with that womanly gesture which has been the same through the ages +she put up her hand; deftly tucking in the stray wisp behind. + +She glanced at the New Englander, against whom she had been in strange +rebellion since she had first seen him. His face, thinned by the summer +in town, was of the sternness of the Puritan. Stephen's features were +sharply marked for his age. The will to conquer was there. Yet justice +was in the mouth, and greatness of heart. Conscience was graven on the +broad forehead. The eyes were the blue gray of the flint, kindly yet +imperishable. The face was not handsome. + +Struggling, then yielding to the impulse, Virginia let herself be led on +into the years. Sanity was the word that best described him. She saw +him trusted of men, honored of women, feared by the false. She saw him +in high places, simple, reserved, poised evenly as he was now. + +"Why do you go in this afternoon?" she asked abruptly. + +He started at the change in her tone. + +"I wish that I might stay," he said regretfully. "But I cannot, Miss +Carvel." + +He gave no reason. And she was too proud to ask it. Never before had +she stooped to urge young men to stay. The difficulty had always been to +get them to go. It was natural, perhaps, that her vanity was wounded. +But it hurt her to think that she had made the overture, had tried to +conquer whatever it was that set her against him, and had failed through +him. + +"You must find the city attractive. Perhaps," she added, with a little +laugh, "perhaps it is Bellefontaine Road." + +"No," he answered, smiling. + +"Then" (with a touch of derision), "then it is because you cannot miss an +afternoon's work. You are that kind." + +"I was not always that kind," he answered. "I did not work at Harvard. +But now I have to or--or starve," he said. + +For the second time his complete simplicity had disarmed her. He had not +appealed to her sympathy, nor had he hinted at the luxury in which he was +brought up. She would have liked to question Stephen on this former +life. But she changed the subject suddenly. + +What did you really think of Mr. Lincoln?" she asked. + +"I thought him the ugliest man I ever saw, and the handsomest as well." + +"But you admired him?" + +"Yes," said Stephen, gravely. + +"You believe with him that this government cannot exist half slave and +half free. Then a day will come, Mr. Brice, when you and I shall be +foreigners one to the other." + +"You have forgotten," he said eagerly, "you have forgotten the rest of +the quotation. 'I do not expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not +expect the house to fall--but cease to be divided.' It will become all +one thing or all the other." + +Virginia laughed. "That seemed to me very equivocal," said she. "Your +rail-sputter is well named." + +"Will you read the rest of that speech?" he asked, + +"Judge Whipple is very clever. He has made a convert of you," she +answered. + +"The Judge has had nothing to do with it," cried Stephen. "He is not +given to discussion with me, and until I went to Springfield had never +mentioned Lincoln's name to me." + +Glancing at her, he surprised a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Then +she laughed openly. + +"Why do you suppose that you were sent to Springfield?" she asked. + +"With an important communication for Mr. Lincoln," he answered. + +"And that most important communication was--your self. There, now, I +have told you," said Virginia. + +"Was myself? I don't understand." + +Virginia puckered her lips. + +"Then you haven't the sense I thought you had," she replied impatiently. +"Do you know what was in that note? No? Well, a year ago last June this +Black Republican lawyer whom you are all talking of made a speech before +a convention in Illinois. Judge Whipple has been crazy on the subject +ever since--he talks of Lincoln in his sleep; he went to Springfield and +spent two days with him, and now he can't rest until you have seen and +known and heard him. So he writes a note to Lincoln and asks him to take +you to the debate--" + +She paused again to laugh at his amazement. + +"But he told me to go to Springfield!" he exclaimed. + +"He told you to find Lincoln. He knew that you would obey his orders, I +suppose." + +"But I didn't know--" Stephen began, trying to come pass within an +instant the memory of his year's experience with Mr. Whipple. + +"You didn't know that he thought anything about you," said Virginia. +"That is his way, Mr. Brice. He has more private charities on his list +than any man in the city except Mr. Brinsmade. Very few know it. He +thinks a great deal of you. But there," she added, suddenly blushing +crimson, "I am sorry I told you." + +"Why?" he asked. + +She did not answer, but sat tapping the seat with her fingers. And when +she ventured to look at him, he had fallen into thought. + +"I think it must be time for dinner," said Virginia, "if you really wish +to catch the train." + +The coldness in her voice, rather than her words, aroused him. He rose, +took one lingering look at the river, and followed her to the house. + +At dinner, when not talking about his mare, the Colonel was trying to +persuade Stephen to remain. Virginia did not join in this, and her +father thought the young man's refusal sprang from her lack of +cordiality. Colonel Carvel himself drove to the station. + +When he returned, he found his daughter sitting idly on the porch. + +"I like that young man, if he is a Yankee," he declared. + +"I don't," said Virginia, promptly. + +"My dear," said her father, voicing the hospitality of the Carvels, +"I am surprised at you. One should never show one's feelings toward a +guest. As mistress of this house it was your duty to press him to stay." + +"He did not want to stay." + +"Do you know why he went, my dear," asked the Colonel. + +"No," said Virginia. + +"I asked him," said the Colonel. + +"Pa! I did not think it of you!" she cried. And then, "What was it?" she +demanded. + +"He said that his mother was alone in town, and needed him." + +Virginia got up without a word, and went into Judge Whipple's room. And +there the Colonel found her some hours later, reading aloud from a scrap- +book certain speeches of Mr. Lincoln's which Judge Whipple had cut from +newspapers. And the Judge, lying back with his eyes half closed, was +listening in pure delight. Little did he guess at Virginia's penance! + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +To be great is to be misunderstood + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, V3, BY CHURCHILL *** + +********* This file should be named wc53w10.txt or wc53w10.zip ******** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wc53w11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wc53w10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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