THE MONUMENT THAT NEVER WAS

     They were found dead on the battlefield, both together with their knapsacks under their heads as if they had laid down to rest after a long day of toil.  Yesterdays great 12 hour battle was over.  Sounds – footsteps, horses, rolling wagons, coughs made it seem that the events of the past day were some violent, but distant nightmare.  The dead were all about, thousands of them.  Unfortunately this battle had been all too real. It was the Battle of Antietam.  Private Robert S. Stevenson (shown as “Stephenson” in the Roster of Volunteers), and Corporal George W. Halloway were dead; two men from tiny Beetown who had answered the call of their country as members of Company C, 2^nd Wisconsin Infantry. 

    Brave, even in the company of the wars most stalwart soldiers, Stevenson determined to do his duty, seemingly without consideration of his life.   His first act of bravery occurred during the rout of Union forces at First Bull Run, as recounted in The History of Grant County: 

"George L. Hyde—was wounded in the mouth by a ball which passed through the neck. Lieut. Dean and Orderly Gibson assisted him to a place of comparative safety. James Gow, Color Sergeant of the company, hearing of his friend's condition, and being an exceptionally powerful man, went to his assistance, leaving the colors in care of George Stephenson, a member of Company C, from Beetown, who found it difficult to keep up with the rest and retain the flag. He was charged by some cavalry, but managed to put a fence between him and them. Seeing his danger and the impending disgrace from the loss of the colors, Richard Carter, one of the musicians, and his brother, George B. Carter, threw away their instruments, secured a rifle each and a few cartridges, and "rallied 'round the flag." After four or five attempts to increase their number in the presence of the enemy, a dozen or more of their comrades came to their assistance, and together they beat the cavalry back and secured their flag."

     The Battle of Antietam on September 17, 1862 was the worst one day fight of the entire Civil War, with some 23,000 men killed, wounded or missing. The 2^nd Wisconsin Volunteer infantry, as part of the Iron Brigade had been in the thick of it, fighting and dying in a field of corn.  The men of the 2nd Wisconsin were not shielded.   They suffered the highest percentage of soldiers killed and dead of wounds of any Union Regiment in the Civil War, 19.7 percent.   Company C of the 2^nd Wisconsin Regiment, the ‘Grant County Grays’ were there.  They had seen repeated battles; at Gainesville (more commonly called The Battle of Brawner’s Farm), on August 28^th, which was the first day of the battle of Second Bull Run (Second Manassas), and at South Mountain on September 14th.  At Brawner’s Farm alone, the 2^nd Wisconsin had lost 276 of its 430 men. At Antietam, already decimated when the battle began, with only 150 able to assemble for the fight, 91 of them were killed or injured. Robert S. Stevenson was courageous, standing out even in this, one of the hardest fighting units of the war.   At First Bull Run he had helped to save the colors as described above, but he would do much more.   

     Robert S. Stevenson was born in Missouri in 1821. By 1845 he was living in Dubuque.  On April 7, 1845 in Dubuque he married Caroline Shattuck daughter of George C. Shattuck (George is buried in Greenwood Cemetery, Platteville), and Anne Bronson, Yankees from Vermont and Connecticut, who had settled in the Waukon area in August of 1849.  He moved from Dubuque to Waukon Iowa in the spring of 1850, with his wife, and infant son Ralph.  They joined the Methodist Episcopal Church in Lansing in June of 1852.  On July 6th of that same year Caroline died.  In the ensuing years Robert Studied law and became an attorney.  In May of 1856 he married Minerva Shattuck, the younger sister of his first wife.  They had a child, Ida, born in 1858.

     By 1860, Robert and his family were living in Beetown, in Grant County, where he was engaged in mining.  On May 20, 1861, a little more than a month after word of the fall of Fort Sumter he enlisted into Company C of the 2^nd Wisconsin.  When he died at Antietam on September 17^th 1862, he left behind his wife, Minerva, and their children.  Minerva married Benjamin Howard in March of 1868, and returned to Waukon, Allamakee County, Iowa where she lived out her life, dying on April 23, 1912.  In her pension file the following newspaper clipping was found.  It is not known where it was published, but the author, Charles K. Dean, had been 1^st Lieutenant of Stevenson’s company in the war: 

To the People of Grant Co.
The following we publish by request of the wife of the deceased, who now lives at Waukon, in this State:

Many of our late citizens now lie in humble graves in remote parts of the country, who have fallen victims to this unholy rebellion. Among the number is Robert S. Stevenson, late of Co.C, 2nd Regt. Wis. Vols., who fills and honors a soldier’s grave on the bloody field of Antietam.

Being only a private, and thus having no place in the regular color guard of his regiment, yet it was his pride to stand by and uphold the colors, in the face of every danger, regardless of personal safety, as the following record will show:

1. During the disasterous battle of Bull Run the 1st, while our forces were everywhere scattered, and in disorderly retreat, he voluntarily relieved the color Sargeant of the colors, and bore them safely out the conflict.
2. In the severe fight of Gainsville, on the 28th of August, ’62, where the Regiment, in the short space of one hour and twenty minutes lost over 250 officers and men out of the 450 engaged, and when every man of the color guard had fallen, he rushed to the post of danger, and after the enemy were driven back; bore the National colors from the field, and carried them all through the two days of fierce battle which followed that bloody day.
3. At South Mountain, Sept. 14th, though too unwell for duty, he was there to float his favorite flag in the face of the foe. And—
4. At Antietam, in the early morning of Sept. 17th, as the sound of the first gun announced the opening of that memorable conflict, he left a sick bed in the hospital at the rear, and disregarding the remonstrances of the medical officers, sought his regiment then in line of battle under fire, and saying to his Capt. As he came up—“Captain I am with you to the last,” took his post by his favorite colors, when he well knew what was apparent to all—that he was entertaining “the very jaws of death.” Brave, noble man, and worthy of a better fate; it was his “last.” Within an hour he fell pierced with five bullets!

Some idea of the hazard attending the post which our deceased comrade fought can be formed by an examination of the regimental colors of the 2d. They show in the National colors, two bullet marks in the staff, and twenty-two in the colors; and in the State, 3 in the staff and 24 in the colors; and besides these, many marks have been shredded out and worn away by the hard usage the colors have seen.

Fellow citizens, I call upon you to unite with me in paying a proper tribute of respect to the memory of Private Robert S. Stevenson. Let us erect a monument, to him which shall have engraved upon it in imperishable characters the record of his patriotic devotion to the flag of our country, and of his glorious death; to inculcate in the minds of all, both of the present and future, the virtues of him whom it will commemorate.

I beg leave to name Hon. J.H. Rountree, Esq., S.E. Lewis, Esq. and Geo. Cole, Esq, as suitable persons to act as Trustees in this matter, and would respectfully suggest the Court House Square at Lancaster, as a proper place in to locate the proposed monument. The persons named or their representatives can call upon me for $25, or twice that amount if required, as my contribution to the fund.

Respectfully submitted,
C.K. DEAN

Stevenson's death is recounted in The Military History of Wisconsin, by Edwin Bentley Quiner:  "Private Robert Stephenson, of Company C, Second Wisconsin, who carried off the regimental flag on the first Bull Run battle-field, and bore it on the 29th and 30th of August, 1862, on the same bloody field, sprang from his bed in the field hospital at Antietam when he heard the skirmishing on the morning of the 17th, and pushed on alone to find his regiment. It was under fire. He reported himself to his Captain, saying, ' Captain, I am with you to the last,' and took the colors, which he held until he was shot down with seven bullets. Corporal Holloway was mortally wounded at the same time. When discovered after the battle, their bodies were found with their heads resting on their knapsacks."

No Monument was ever constructed to remember his brave deeds.  We do not know why, but his name is engraved on the Civil War Monument that sits near the Courthouse in Lancaster, Wisconsin. 

 

     Today, more than a dozen soldiers of the 2^nd Wisconsin are buried at the Antietam National Cemetery.  Among them are Private Robert S. Stevenson and Corporal George W. Halloway, two brave men of Beetown, Wisconsin.  They rest in peace, side by side, part of a field of silent sentinels who affirm to us over the span of nearly 150 years that we are one nation, indivisible, and still a beacon of freedom to the world.

SPINNING HISTORY

MARY BARBARA SCHAUFF – SPINNING HISTORY

     In 1938 members of The Grant County Historical Society made a field trip to Muscalunge, near Beetown.  They went to see one of the last practitioners of the traditional art of Wool spinning in this area practice her craft.  Mary Barbara Schauff was seventy three at that time (she died in 1942), and was still very active in making socks, sweaters, even underwear from native wool.  She used dyes that were derived from local sources.  All in all, it was of great interest to the GCHS members of that time, and I suspect it might interest some of us now, even those of us who have never seen the practice.  Let’s hope that modern artisans do not forget the fabric arts of the past.  Below you will find two articles about Mrs. Schauff, and photos of the Historical Society visit.

From an 1878 Map of Grant County 

From a Herald Independent article of 1938:

“I’ve Been Spinning Yarn for Nigh onto Thirty Years…”

       

"I've been spinning ever since my man brought home a spinning wheel that he bought at an auc­tion sale down in Beetown, nigh onto thirty years ago." And with this remark, Mrs. Mary Barbara Schauff began an interesting res­ume of events that have tran­spired during her fifty-three years of married life on the old home farm, located just over the brim of Schauff Ridge, five miles south­east of Beetown.

"So you're The Independent man?" is the way she greeted the writer. "Bring in the spinning wheel, Annie, and some wool, and show him how it works." And Annie, one of the three daughters at home, brought in the spinning wheel, and the spool holder, and the frame on which the finished skein is wound.

"Yes sir," spoke Mrs. Schauff, whose seventy-three years have dealt kindly with her memory, "My man came home one night from an auction sale held down at Beetown, and he had bought a spinning wheel that must have been pretty old then." "Bless you, no," she replied to our in­quiry," this isn't the same one. I wore out that one; bought a new one and wore that one out, and this is the third. Oh, a fellow up at LaCrosse still makes them, but land sakes, they cost $13.75 now."

Picture taken “at the Grant County Historical Society meeting at the old Muscalunge Mine - 1938”

Mrs. Schauff takes a short cut of the finished product because she has eliminated the carding of the wool.  Experienced fingers manipulate the rough wool as she treadles the wheel and from out of her hands flows connected strands of wool that is twisted into a single thread and wound onto the spool held in place on the spinning wheel. She next joins the strands from two, three or four spools, depending on what she is going to use the yarn for, and twists them into heavier yarn which is run from the spools onto the skein wheel.  When this wheel is filled    to its capacity with rough wool yarn, it is securely tied to prevent it    from tangling.  It is next washed to snow whiteness, and then dyed to suit her demands, or left the natural color.  “Yes, I've had as many as 14 skeins hanging out on the porch at one time to dry." "See this color here,” and she pointed to a square block that was one of many that made up a chair back.  It was a beautiful golden brown, of mottled effect.   "I dyed that from Walnut husks.  That makes the finest kind of dye."

Mrs. Schauff not only spins yarn for her own use but for many people   of  that community who bring rough wool to her, and she knits for many of them, too.  An attractive pair of mit­tens was brought out to show the weight of the yarn used, but the style of knitting employed by Mrs. Schauff was of more interest than the weight.  Two colors were knitted at the same time into an original color effect.  "That's easy," said Mrs. Schauff,  "you just run the two strands of dif­ferent colors over your fingers, and keep tract of the number of purls."  Just that easy, we thought. "Oh yes. I have knitted dozens of pairs of mittens and socks, and sweaters; and I have knitted underwear from home   spun wool for a Cassville man.  Some of my, knitting has gone as far as Kan­sas.  I knit lots of things for around the house, too."

"We have lived on this farm for .... well, we celebrated our golden  wedding three years ago… it has been fifty-three years we have lived here. We fed 240 people for dinner on our gold­en wedding day."

Living at home are three daughters, Annie, Adeline and Mathilda and two of the boys, Tony and Carl.

"Well, come out again said Mrs. Schauff as The Independent man made ready to depart, "and I'll try to have a supply of wool on hand. See these black socks. Well they are made from the wool of black sheep, and I think it's the best kind of wool."

Despite the chill out-doors, and the effect of such weather on bothersome rheumatism, Mrs. Schauff followed the writer out onto the porch.  "See those log buildings? Well, they was built long before I came to this place to live.  Yes, they're pretty old. The old log house stood right over there. Well, the boys will be getting home before long. They went over to Slaght's this morning to butcher. Goodbye, and come out again."

And so ended a very pleasant visit with a kind old lady, who may have spun yarn from rough wool, and knitted it into socks and mittens for the men folks be­cause of necessity thirty years ago; but today it is our guess that it is a hobby, a pastime, that she just don't care to give up.

There’s been a Heap of Spinning in the Home of Aunt Barbara Schauff

(Milwaukee?) Journal Special Correspondence (1939)

Cassville, Wis. - -Sheep shearing time didn't come any too soon this year to Mrs. Barbara Schauff’s place in Waterloo town if you ask Aunt Barbara herself.

"This house is plumb out of fleece," she said.   "What with all these sweaters and things to be finished, it'll take a heap of spinning.”

 The big dining table in the center of the room was loaded with knitted articles in various stages of completion.  Unflustered by unexpected visitors in midmorning, Aunt Barbara resumed the knitting she had laid aside when a carload of company swarmed in upon her.  She was putting the finishing touches to a man's cardigan jacket, and as she shifted the heavy garment around, a big ball of natural blond wool rolled from her lap under the table.   One of the visitors hastened to retrieve it, remarking on the four thread strength, and the evenness of the texture.

 “Yes, it's our own make,” Mrs. Schauff acknowledged.

“Mother can spin a thread that's as fine as store thread” one of the grownup daughters offered, indi­cating a little old red spinning wheel in the corner.  "And just as even too," she said.

Aunt Barbara's knitting needles clicked steadily. The faint note of the Zephyr's siren was borne in on the clear air, carrying the reminder that beyond the next ridge to the west gleaming streamlined trains carry men and women swiftly to and fro in a complicated modern world.

A World Far Away

Here, with the talk of reels and spindles, of carding and knitting and dyeing, that world seems very far away. As natural as the serene Mississippi river hills, among which she has spent the whole of her 75 years, Aunt Barbara Schauff finds nothing strange in her devotion to one of the most primitive and all but forgotten household arts. "For 40 years she has taken the fleece from the backs of her own sheep, carded, spun and fashioned it into innumerable useful articles of clothing for her own kith and kin. That strangers from "outside" should marvel at that is a source of Wonderment to her.

Ever since that fellow from the historical society happened in last summer, caught her spinning and carried her and her spinning wheel off to a big meeting at Muskellunge, more and more "outsiders" have been finding their way to this re­mote spot in the rugged western Grant county hill country.

A devious way it is, too, across the Rattlesnake River, then up, into the hills, and finally over the narrow road cut out of the side of the rocky ridge which leads to the farm. In a white house perched on the very summit of the ridge, surrounded by ancient oak and walnut trees, Aunt Barbara sits and spins.

Yearned for Wheel

"When I was a little girl," she told her visitors, "I wanted, more" than anything in the world, a spinning wheel.  My mother was too busy with a family of 15 children, to humor any one of us, so it was long after I was married and had chil­dren of my own that my wish came true. One day the mister came home from a sale in the neighborhood, bringing an old spinning wheel that he had picked up for 75cents.

"Now you can spin all you're a'mind to," he said, "if you can get the wool." '    :

"I'll get the wool," I promised him. "I'll raise it. We started our flock that year with a pet lamb one of the neighbors gave our 9 year old Josie, and we've been raising our own wool ever since. I didn't have anybody to show me, so I learned to spin myself, and a pretty mess I made of it too for a while.  Finally I got the hang of it, and now it's as easy as wash­ing your hands.”  She broke into a chuckle.  "I've brought my children up right, too, you'd better believe.  I've seen to it that every one of them learned to spin and knit, even the boys!”

Mrs. Schauff is particular about not washing the fleece.  It's best, she says, with all the natural oils left in it. She cards, spins and knits it up in its natural state. Then comes the washing process, with a mild soap and soft water. When it is dry, it is, she asserted, as soft and fluffy as a pet kitten.

As for dyeing, some folks hold with store dyes, but Aunt Barbara thinks there's nothing quite like a rich brown dye made from the hulls of the native black walnut.

Zippers Are Popular

The even, burnished brown sam­ple of her craftsmanship which she displayed to her visitors would have done credit to the most exacting pioneer dye maker. The zipper front on the dyed jacket gave the garment a finish and professional look.

A comment to that effect drew from Aunt Barbara a wry face.  Then with a twinkle in her eyes, she told how, for a long time she had re­fused to have any truck with the new fangled fasteners.  Finally one of her innumerable male relatives for whom she was knitting a sweat­er, outtalked her, and much against her better judgment she finished his garment off with a zipper.

To her surprise it caused its own­er no trouble. But it is causing the knitter plenty!  The word got around and now all the boys she has made sweaters for during the last two or three years, are coming prancing back with 'em, to have the fronts taken out and changed to zippers!

Life, it seems, is complicated, even in Arcadia!

(“Arcadia” as used figuratively above refers to A mountainous and picturesque district of Greece, in the heart of the Peloponnesus, whose people were distinguished for contentment and rural happiness.)

                                            Mrs. Schauff 1938

 
The “Coloroto” pic­ture of Mrs. Barbara Schauff in the header is from the Journal (presumably the Milwaukee Journal).  Coloroto stood for “color” and “roto” – a rotogravure printed in more t

WITNESS TO HISTORY

MARTIN P. RINDLAUB Sr.

   

 He was a native of Gettysburg Pennsylvania, born February 15, 1838, but he left that place before his childhood haunts were shredded in the greatest battle of the Civil War.  His name was Martin Phillip Rindlaub, and he was a journalist.  Educated at Gettysburg College, he subsequently learned the printing trade working in the offices of the Gettysburg Sentinel.  He taught school for a few years, but in the spring of 1858 he followed the popular admonition to “go west, young man, go west.”  He arrived in June of 1858 in Warren, Illinois, accepting a position as a pressman at the Warren Independent.  He bought a half interest in the paper in January 1860, and in July of that same year purchased the remainder becoming full owner.  In December 1860 he took as a partner D. J. Benner, an old friend from Gettysburg.  After the bombardment of Fort Sumter, Benner enlisted in the army, and was made First Lieutenant of Company E, 15th Illinois Volunteers. Benner later moved on to work in the Secret Service and the diplomatic corps.  Rindlaub continued to run the paper. 

     The December 23, 1862 issue of the Adams Sentinel of Gettysburg carried the following in the “Comings and Goings” section: “Married, in Doylestown, Berks Co., Pa., on the 11th inst., by Rev. Mr. Andrews, Martin P. Rindlaub one of the editors of the “Independent”, Warren, Illinois (formerly of the Sentinel office) to Kate S. Young of Doylestown.”  They were to remain man and wife for over 56 years.

     In the spring of 1864 M. P. Rindlaub (later to receive the title “Sr.” to distinguish himself from his son by the same name, who became a doctor) sold his interest in the Independent and moved to Galena, working a few months for the Gazette, and thence to Lancaster in July 1864 where he worked until March 1867 for J. C. Cover at the Grant County Herald.  He then bought the Platteville Witness from George K. Shaw of Lancaster on February 28, 1867. This publication he was to run for the rest of his career.  He was to live to the age of 94, dying on May 19, 1932 at Platteville, and became renowned as the dean of newspaper editors in Wisconsin.  In his long life, he accomplished many things (He helped to preserve the First State capitol at Belmont), but one of the most important was attending and recording in detail the great debate between Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas that occurred on August 27^th, 1858.  This debate led to the fracture of the Democratic party.  Rindlaub was 20 years old at the time.  He wrote at least three articles recounting his memories of this event, the most detailed for the Kiwanis Magazine in May of 1926.  Following are quotes from his written reminiscences.    

    

     “I was present in 1858 at one of the celebrated discussions between Lincoln and Douglas, at Freeport. Lincoln and Douglas were the opposing candidates for the United States Senate, and a series of joint discussions at seven different points in the State had been arranged. Meetings were held in advance, by each party, at every hamlet and cross road within a radius of forty miles of the place where the joint discussion was to take place, in order to awaken its adherents to the importance of being present and supporting its champions. They organized themselves into great delegations which rallied at convenient points, and formed into processions of men and women, in wagons and carriages — but few of the latter as they were not as common then as they became later. Many, too, were on horse-back, and usually starting the night before, headed by bands of music, with flags and banners, hats and handkerchiefs waving, proceeded to the place of meeting. 

                                                           Freeport Weekly Journal Aug 17 1858

Many of these processions were half a mile in length. As they advanced the air was rent with cheers in the Republican processions, for "Honest Old Abe," and in the Democratic, for "The Little Giant." The sentiments painted in great letters on the banners carried in each of these processions left no one in doubt as to which party its participants belonged. Over the banners of the Douglas processions were "Squatter Sovereignty"; "Let the People Rule"; "This is a White Man's Country"; "No Nigger Equality"; "Hurrah for the Little Giant." On the other hand, the Republicans carried banners with such mottoes as "Hurrah for Honest Old Abe"; "Lincoln the Rail-Splitter and Giant Killer"; "No more Slave Territory"; "All men are created equal"; "Free Kansas"; "No more compromise." 

From The Janesville Gazette August 26, 1858

     “Douglas arrived on the scene in a coach drawn by four gaily caparisoned horses, which had been placed at his disposal by his admirers; his coming was greeted by a rousing welcome. Scarcely had the cheering occasioned by his appearance ceased when an old-fashioned Conestoga wagon, drawn by four horses, was driven to the stand. On one of the seats sat Lincoln, accompanied by half a dozen farmers in their working clothes. The driver was mounted on the near rear horse and guided his team with a single rein attached to the bridle of one of the lead horses. The burlesque was as complete as possible and the effort was greeted with a good-natured roar. 

     “The contrast between Lincoln and Douglas could hardly have been more marked. Lincoln was six feet four inches tall. He was swarthy as an Indian, with wiry, jet black hair, which was usually in an unkept condition. He wore no beard, and his face was almost grotesquely square, with high cheek bones. His eyes were bright, keen, and a luminous gray color, though his eyebrows were black like his hair. His figure was gaunt, slender, and slightly bent. He was clad in a rusty-black Prince Albert coat with somewhat abbreviated sleeves. His black trousers, too, were so short that they gave an appearance of exaggerated size to his feet. He wore a high stove-pipe hat, somewhat the worse for wear. He carried a gray woolen shawl, a garment much worn in those days instead of an overcoat.  His manner of speaking was of a plain, unimpassioned character. He gesticulated very little with his arms, but moved his body from one side to the other. Sometimes he would bend his knees so they would almost touch the platform, and then he would shoot himself up to his full height, emphasizing his utterances in a very forcible manner.  

LINCOLN’S QUESTION TO DOUGLAS LEAD’S TO DEMOCRATIC DIVISION

Note:  The Dred Scott Decision of 1857 had decreed that a man may take his property (a slave) with him into any territory of the United States, thus collapsing the compromise of 1850 allowing for “popular sovereignty” – each territory deciding for itself whether to be a slave or free state.  This decision also said that a Negro is not a citizen and has no standing in a court of law.

     “It was during his famous debate with Douglas that Lincoln forced Douglas to make declarations as to his position on the slavery question which rendered the disruption of the Democratic Party inevitable, and robbed Douglas of the Democratic nomination for President in 1860. The specific question he forced Douglas to answer was: "Can the people of a United States territory, in any lawful way, against the wisdom of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its limits prior to the forming of a state constitution?" Douglas replied: "It matters not what 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, but the people, have the lawful means to introduce it or 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. These police regulations can only be established by the local legislature, and if the people are opposed to slavery, they will elect representatives to that body who will, by unfriendly legislation, effectually prevent the introduction of it into their midst."

     “This answer of Douglas proved his own political death-warrant. It enabled Lincoln to say that "Judge Douglas claims that a thing may be lawfully driven from where it has a lawful right to be." While it won to Douglas in the Senatorial fight the votes of Democrats opposed to slavery, in other states "police regulation" and "unfriendly legislation" became catch phrases which were used to defeat him.

 Note to the cartoon below:  In the 1860 Presidential election, as a result of conflicting regional interests, the Democratic Party broke into Northern and Southern factions, and a new Constitutional Union Party appeared. In the face of a divided opposition, the Republican Party, which had the most support in the North, secured enough electoral votes to put Abraham Lincoln in the White House with little support from the South.  Douglas’ answer to Lincoln’s query led to this party split.

This cartoon depicts the four candidates of 1860 dancing around Dred Scott, who is seated and playing a violin. In the upper right corner, Lincoln is depicted dancing with an Negro woman, signifying his alleged interest in abolition.  In the lower right corner, John Bell dances with a Native American. Bell was a staunch supporter of preserving the Union above all else. Stephen A. Douglas, the presidential candidate from the Northern Democratic Party, is represented dancing with an Irishman and allusion to his sympathy with Catholicism.  John C. Breckenridge, the southern Democratic candidate who supported slavery is shown dancing with President Buchanan.

HOW LINCOLN SILENCED THE CROWD

     “Douglas spoke first and he was frequently interrupted by vociferous applause. At the close of his speech the cheering and hand clapping was prolonged and tumultuous. When Lincoln rose the crowd broke into cheers again for Douglas, keeping it up for several minutes, Lincoln, in the meanwhile waiting patiently. When at length the enthusiasm subsided, he extended his long right arm for silence. When he had partly gained this he said in an impressive tone, "What an orator Judge Douglas is!" This unexpected tribute to their friend aroused wild enthusiasm in the audience. When this applause had run its course Lincoln extended his hand again, this time obtaining silence more easily. "What a fine presence Judge Douglas has!" exclaimed the speaker earnestly. Again tumultuous applause followed the tribute. More and more easily the tall, gaunt lawyer won silence as he went on with admiring exclamations: "How well rounded his sentences are!" ending with "What a splendid man Judge Douglas is!" Then, when the audience had again become silent at his call, Lincoln leaned forward and said, "And now, my countrymen, how many of you can tell me one thing Judge Douglas said?" There was no reply and Lincoln proceeded to speak without interruption.

LINCOLN WINS THE 1860 REPUBLICAN NOMINATION FOR PRESIDENT

    “I was also present in the capacity of a reporter at the Republican Convention, in the Wigwam, in Chicago, when Lincoln was nominated for the Presidency the first time.

     “It is interesting to compare Lincoln's letter of acceptance when he was nominated for the Presidency the first time, with those of Roosevelt, Taft or Bryan, when they were nominated for the same office. While each of theirs occupied six or eight columns of the average newspaper, Lincoln's was contained in about twenty lines. It was so short that I will give it entire:

SPRINGFIELD, ILL., May 23, 1860.

Sir: I accept the nomination tendered to me by the convention over which you presided, and of which I am formally apprised in the letter of yourself and others, acting as a committee of the convention for that purpose. The declaration of principles and sentiments which accompanies that letter meets my approval, and it shall be my care not to violate nor disregard it in any part.

Imploring the assistance of divine Providence, and with due regard to the views and feelings of all who were represented in the Convention — to the rights of all the states and territories and people of the nation, to the inviolability of the Constitution, and the perpetual union and harmony and prosperity of all, I am most happy to co-operate for the practical success of the principles declared by the Convention.

Your obliged friend and fellow-citizen, A. LINCOLN.

     “As soon as it became known that Lincoln was elected President, several of the southern states made preparation formally to separate themselves from the federal union, South Carolina taking the lead in the secession movement; so that by the time Lincoln was inaugurated seven states had done all in their power to dissolve their connection with the Union.

     “The next time that I saw Lincoln was in the summer of 1860, after he had been nominated for the Presidency. A great Republican mass meeting was held at Springfield, Lincoln's home. It was said to have been the largest political meeting ever held in this country.  A carriage drove up, and Lincoln was escorted forward. Being assisted, he mounted the desk where he stood, his tall form towering far above, his hands folded in front of him, and the multitude cheering to the echo. When quiet was restored, he told the audience that he had not come to make a speech, that he had simply come there to see the people and to give them an opportunity to see him. All he said did not occupy two minutes, after which he entered his carriage, and was driven to other portions of the ground.

LINCOLN’S CHARACTER AND FAITH

     “Simply touching the religious side of Mr. Lincoln, the following incident is told by the late General Sickles. The General lost a leg at Gettysburg and was taken to Washington, where he was soon visited by Mr. Lincoln. The General asked him if he had not been anxious about the result of the battle, and the President replied, "Yes, some precautions were taken, but for my part I was sure of our success at Gettysburg." "Why were you so confident?" the General asked. There was a brief pause; the President seemed in deep thought. Then his pale face lighted up, and turning to the General he said, "When Lee crossed the Potomac and entered Pennsylvania, followed by our army, I felt that the crisis had come. I knew that defeat in a great battle on northern soil involved the loss of Washington, to be followed, perhaps, by the intervention of England and France, in favor of the Southern Confederacy. I went to my room and got down on my knees in prayer. Never before had I prayed with so much earnestness; I wish I could repeat my prayer. I felt that I must put all my trust in Almighty God. He gave our people the best country ever given to man. He alone could save it from destruc­tion. I had tried my best to do my duty, and had found myself unequal to the task. The burden was more than I could bear. God had often been our protector in other days. I prayed that He would not let the Nation perish, and asked him to help us now and give us victory. I knew that God was on our side—I had no misgivings about the result at Gettysburg.”

“Lincoln's heart was as tender as a woman's. During the war he frequently visited the hospitals and addressed cheering words to the wounded soldiers. On one occasion he found a young fellow whose leg had been amputated, and he was evidently sinking rapidly. "Is there anything I can do for you?" asked Lincoln. "You might write a letter to my mother," was the  reply. The President wrote at the youth's dictation, "My dear mother, I have been shot bad, but I am bearing up. I tried to do my duty. They tell me I cannot recover. God bless you and father. Kiss May and John for me." At the end these words were added as a postscript: "This letter was written by Abraham Lincoln." When the boy perused the epistle and saw the added words, he looked with astonished gaze at the visitor, as he asked: "Are you our President?" "Yes," was the quick answer: "and now that you know that, is there anything else I can do for you?" Feebly the lad said: "I guess you might hold my hand and see me through."

     “Never before in the history of the world was there a leader of men so entirely and so consistently his natural self. He was homely and ungainly and he recognized and spoke jokingly about it. He was ambitious and frankly admitted it. He was so modest, so honest, and so "easy" that not a few men set him down as absolutely simple-minded. But after he was tested and tried it was found that he was unqualified­ly a "Master of Men." Douglas, to whom he put the question, at Freeport, that saved the United States, came to know him as his master, and held his hat for him while he took the oath of office as President. Fremont, the "soldier statesman," whom Lincoln made and unmade, learned the same les­son. So did Seward, who went into the Cabinet prepared and expecting to take the reins of government. So did Chase, the indispensable man, who resigned once too often, and who, thanks to Lincoln's mag­nanimity, administered to him the second oath of office. Even Stanton, that imperturbable Titan of the Cabinet, who had been in the habit of referring to Lincoln as the "orig­inal gorilla" and who prophesied that Jeff Davis would be in the White House within six months, and who believed himself called into the Cabinet for the express purpose of holding up the hands of the impotent Lincoln—even Stan-ton learned this lesson; and when Lincoln drew his last breath Stanton said: "There lies the most perfect ruler of men that the world has ever seen."  

 

    “Each passing year serves to emphasize the fact that the memory of Abraham Lincoln has been more potent than any other influence in bringing the people of the North and the South into more harmonious relations toward each other.

In the language of another:

Heroic soul, in homely garb half hid,
Sincere, sagacious, melancholy, quaint,
What he endured, no less than what he did,
Has reared his monument and crowned him saint.”

Never losing his sense of adventure, Rindlaub took his first flight at age 93 (1931)