Mrs. Thomas Lincoln's
Statement (to William H. Herndon)
Old Mrs. Lincoln's home, 8 miles south of Charleston
Friday, September 8,
1865
Mrs. Thomas Lincoln says:
I knew Mr. Lincoln in Kentucky. I married Mr.
Johnston, he died about 1817 or '18. Mr.
Lincoln came back to Kentucky, having lost his wife. We, Thomas Lincoln and myself, were married
in 1819, left Kentucky, went to Indiana, moved there in a train, think Kramer moved us. Here is our old Bible dated 1819; It has Abe's name in it. Here is Barclay's Dictionary dated 1799; it
has Abe's name in it, though in a better handwriting; both are boyish
scrawls. When we landed in Indiana, Mr. Lincoln had erected a good log cabin, tolerably
comfortable. This is the bureau I took
to Indiana in 1819, cost $45 in Kentucky. Abe was then
young, so was his sister. I dressed Abe
and his sister up, looked more human.
Abe slept upstairs, went up on pins stuck in the logs, like a ladder;
our bedsteads were original creations, none such now, made of poles and clapboards. Abe was about nine years of age when I landed
in Indiana. The country
was wild, and desolate. Abe was a good
boy; he didn't like physical labor, was diligent for knowledge, wished to know,
and if pains and labor would get it, he was sure to get it. He was the best boy I ever saw. He read all the books he could lay his hands
on. I can't remember dates nor names, am
about seventy-five years of age; Abe read the Bible some, though not as much as
said; he sought more congenial books suitable for his age. I think newspapers were had in Indiana as early as 1824 and up to 1830 when we moved to Illinois. Abe was a
constant reader of them. I am sure of
this for the years of 1827-28-29-30. The
name of the Louisville Journal seems to sound like one. Abe read history papers and other books,
can't name any one, have forgotten. Abe
had no particular religion, didn't think of that question at that time, if he
ever did. He never talked about it. He read diligently, studied in the daytime,
didn't much after night much, went to bed early, got up early, and then read,
eat his breakfast, got to work in the field with the men. Abe read all the books he could lay his hands
on, and when he came across a passage that struck him, he would wirte it down on boards if he had no paper and keep it
there till he did get paper, then he would rewrite it, look at it, repeat
it. He had a copybook, a kind of
scrapbook, in which he put down all things and then preserved them. He ciphered on boards when he had no paper or
no slate, and when the board would get too black, he would shave it off with a
drawing knife and go on again. When he
had paper, he put his lines down on it.
His copybook is here now or was lately. (Here it was shown to me by Mrs.
Thomas Lincoln) Abe, when old folks were
at our house, was a silent and attentive observer, never speaking or asking
questions till they were gone, and then he must understand everything, even to
the smallest thing, minutely and exactly;
he would then repeat it over to himself again and again, sometimes in
one form and then in another, and when it was fixed in his mind to suit him, he
became easy and he never lost that fact or his understanding of it. Sometimes he seemed perturbed to give
expression to his ideas and got mad, almost, at one who couldn't explain
plainly what he wanted to convey. He
would hear sermons [by the] npreacher, come home,
take the children out, get on a stump or log, and almost repeat it word for
word. He made other speeches, such as
interested him and the children. His
father had to make him quit sometimes, as he quit his own work to speak and
made the other children as well as the men quit their work. As a usual thing Mr. Lincoln never made Abe
quit reading to do anything if he could avoid it. He would do it himself first. Mr. Lincoln could read a little and could
scarcely write his name; hence he wanted, as he himself felt the uses and
necessities of educating his boy Abraham to learn, and he encouraged him to do
it in all ways he could. Abe was a good
boy, and I can say what scarcely on woman, a mother, can say in a thousand and
it is this: Abe never gave me a cross
word or look and never refused in fact, or even in appearance, to do anything I
requested him. I never gave him a cross
word in all my life. He was kind to
everybody and to everything and always accommodated others if he could, would
do so willingly if he could. His mind
and mine, what little I had, seemed to run together, more in the same
channel. Abe could easily learn and long
remember, and when he did learn anything he learned it well and
thoroughly. What he thus learned he
stored away in memory, which was extremely good. What he learned and stored away was defined
in his own mind, repeated over and over again and again, till it was so defined
and fixed firmly and permanently in his memory.
He rose early, went to bed early, not reading much after night. Abe was a moderate eater, and I now have no
remembrance of his special dish; he sat
down and ate what was set in front of him, making no complaint; he seemed
careless about this. I cooked his meals
for nearly fifteen years. He always had
good health, never was sick, was very careful of his person, was tolerably neat
and clean only, cared nothing for clothes, so that they were clean and neat,
further cut no figure with him, nor color, new stuff, nor material; was
careless about these things. He was more
fleshy in Indiana than ever in Illinois. I saw him
every year or two. He was here after he
was elected President of the United States. (Here the old lady stopped, turned around and cried,
wiped her eyes, and proceeded.) As
company would come to our house Abe was a silent listener, wouldn't speak,
would sometimes take a book and retire aloft, go to the stable or fields or woods,
and read. Abe was always fond of fun,
sport, wit, and jokes. He was sometimes
very witty indeed. He never drank whisky
or other strong drink, was temperate in all things, too much so, I thought
sometimes. He never told me a lie in his
life, never evaded, never quarreled, never dodged nor turned a corner to avoid
any chastisement or other responsibility.
He never swore or used profane language in my presenece
nor in others' that I now remember of.
He duly reverenced old age, loved those best about his own age, played
with those under his age; he listened to the aged, argued with his equals, but
played with the children. He loved animals generally and treated them kindly;
he loved children well, very well. There
seemed to be nothing unusual in his love for animals or his own kind, though he
treated everybody and everything kindly, humanely. Abe didn't care much for crowds of people; he
chose his own company, which was always good.
He was not very fond of girls, as he seemed to me. He sometimes attended church. He would repeat the sermon over again to the
children. The sight of such a thing
amused all and did especially tickle the children. When Abe was reading, my husband took
particular care not to disturb him, would let him read on and on till Abe quit
of his own accord. He was dutiful to me
always; he loved me truly, I think. I
had a son John who was raised with Abe.
Both were good boys, but I must say, both now being dead, that Abe was
the best boy I ever saw or ever expect to see.
I wish I had died when my husband did.
I did not want Abe to run for President, did not want him elected, was
afraid somehow or other, felt it in my heart that something would happen to
him, and when he came down to see me after he was elected President, I still
felt that something told me that something would befall Abe and that I should
see him no more. Abe and his father are
in Heaven, I have no doubt, and I want to go to them, go where they are. God bless Abraham.
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note by W. H. Herndon
When I first reached the home
of Mrs. Lincoln and was introduced to her by Colonel A. H. Chapman, her
grandson by marriage, I did not expect to get much out of her. She seemed so old and feeble; she asked me to
write my name two or three times and where I lived as often, and would say:
"Where Mr. Lincoln lived once, his friend too." She breathed badly at first but she seemed to
be struggling at last to arouse herself, or to fix her mind on the
subject. Gradually by introducing simple
questions to her, about her age, marriage, Kentucky, Thomas Lincoln, her former
husband, her children, grandchildren, Johnston, she awoke as it were a new
being, her eyes were clear and calm; her flesh is white and pure, not coarse or
material; is tall, has bluish-gray eyes; ate dinner with her, sat on my west
side, left arm, ate a good, hearty dinner, she did.
When
I was about to leave, she arose, took me by the hand, wept, and bade me
good-by, saying: "I shall never see you again, and if you see Mrs. Abraham
Lincoln and family, tell them I send them my best and tenderest
love. Good-by, my good son's friend,
farewell."
I
then went to Thomas Lincoln's grave.