Part 6 (2/2)

Lincoln was plunged w.i.l.l.y-nilly into the society he shunned at home, on entering the legislature at Springfield. A newspaper there published the account--from her side--of a young lady's difference with a noted politician, General James s.h.i.+elds. He married a sister of Lincoln's wife, and there was a feud between them. s.h.i.+elds flew to the editor to demand the name of the maligner, as he called the correspondent, or the editor must meet him with dueling weapon--or his horsewhip. In the Western States the whip was snapped at literary men as the cane was flourished in England at the date, 1842.

The editor consulted with Lincoln as a lawyer and a friend. With his enmity as to s.h.i.+elds, the friend promptly advised him to say ”I did it!” This was, in fact, sheer justice, for it was Lincoln's wife who uttered the articles. And, by the way, their style and rustic humor were much in the vein of the ”Widow Bedott” and the ”Samantha” papers of later times. Mrs. Lincoln was not the mere housekeeper the scribes accuse her of being. Lincoln knew what was her value when he read his speeches first to her for an opinion, as Moliere courted his stewardess for opinions. Sumner heeded her counsel.

Abraham championed the mysterious ”Aunt 'Becca,” who had characterized s.h.i.+elds as ”a ballroom dandy floating around without heft or substance, just like a lot of cat-fur where cats have been fighting.”

Is not this quite Lincolnian?

Thus put forward, Lincoln received a challenge.

Trial by battle-personal still ruled. The politicians coupled with the necessity of going out with weapons to maintain an a.s.sertion in speech or publication were Jefferson Davis, Jackson, the President; Henry Clay, the amiable; Sam Houston, Sergeant S. Prentiss, etc.

s.h.i.+elds naturally challenged the lady's champion. As the challenged party, Lincoln, who had cooled in the interim, not only chose broadswords (not at all ”the gentleman's arm in an affair of honor”), but, what is more, descanted on the qualities of the cutlas in such a droll manner and words that the second went off laughing. He imparted his unseemly mirth to his opponent's seconds, and all the parties concerned took the cue to soften down the irritation between two persons formerly ”chums,” and relatives so close.

The meeting took place by the river-side out of Alton, where the leaking out of the gallantry of Lincoln in taking up the cudgels for the lady led to an explanation, although no such enlightenment ought to be permitted on the ground. Besides, all was ludicrous--the broadswords intolerably broad.

The princ.i.p.als shook hands. But the plotters were not content with this peaceful ending. They had determined that the outside spectators on the town side of the river should be ”in at the (sham) death.” They rigged up a log in a coat and sheet like a man wounded and reclining in the bottom of a boat, and pretended it was one of the duelists, badly stricken, whom they were escorting to town for surgical a.s.sistance. The explosion of laughter receiving the two princ.i.p.als when the hoax was revealed caused the incident to be a sore point to both Lincoln and s.h.i.+elds.

”WANTING TO DANCE THE WORST WAY.”

A Miss Mary Todd had come to visit a sister married in the neighborhood of Springfield. Lincoln was there as a member of the legislature sitting. He had eschewed society, though he liked it, in favor of study, but now rewarded himself for achieving this fruit of application by joining the movements around him. He made the acquaintance of Miss Todd, vivacious, sprightly, keenly insighted so as to divine he would prove superior in fate to Stephen Douglas, also courting her. Although unsuited by nature and his means to s.h.i.+ne in the ballroom, Lincoln followed his flame thither. Using the vernacular, he asked for her hand, saying earnestly:

”Miss Todd, I should like to dance with you _the worst way._”

After he had led his partner to her seat, a friend asked how the clumsy partner had carried himself.

”He kept his word. He did dance the worst way!”

”THE STATUTE FIXES ALL THAT!”

Even Lincoln's marriage was to be accompanied by a diversion of that merry imp of incongruity always with him--as Shakespeare's most stately heroes are attended by a comic servant. He married Miss Mary Todd, of Kentucky, at Springfield, at the age of thirty-three.

It was the first wedding performed with all the ceremonial of the Episcopalian sect. This was to the awe of the Honorable Judge Tom C.

Brown, an old man, and friend and patron of our Abraham. He watched the ecclesiastical functionary to the point of Lincoln's placing the ring on his bride's finger, when the irate old stager exclaimed at the formula: ”With this ring I thee endow with all my goods,” etc.

”Grace to Goshen! Lincoln, the statute fixes all that!”

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