Lincoln's Yarns and Stories [49]
was declared victor, it was only by a hand span. He appeared to be as much pleased as if he had won a battle."
MR. BULL DIDN'T GET HIS COTTON.
Because of the blockade, by the Union fleets, of the Southern cotton ports, England was deprived of her supply of cotton, and scores of thousands of British operatives were thrown out of employment by the closing of the cotton mills at Manchester and other cities in Great Britain. England (John Bull) felt so badly about this that the British wanted to go to war on account of it, but when the United States eagle ruffled up its wings the English thought over the business and concluded not to fight.
"Harper's Weekly" of May 16th, 1863, contained the cartoon we reproduce, which shows John Bull as manifesting much anxiety regarding the cotton he had bought from the Southern planters, but which the latter could not deliver. Beneath the cartoon is this bit of dialogue between John Bull and President Lincoln: MR. BULL (confiding creature): "Hi want my cotton, bought at fi'pence a pound."
MR. LINCOLN: "Don't know anything about it, my dear sir. Your friends, the rebels, are burning all the cotton they can find, and I confiscate the rest. Good-morning, John!"
As President Lincoln has a big fifteen-inch gun at his side, the black muzzle of which is pressed tightly against Mr. Bull's waistcoat, the President, to all appearances, has the best of the argument "by a long shot." Anyhow, Mr. Bull had nothing more to say, but gave the cotton matter up as a bad piece of business, and pocketed the loss.
STICK TO AMERICAN PRINCIPLES.
President Lincoln's first conclusion (that Mason and Slidell should be released) was the real ground on which the Administration submitted. "We must stick to American principles concerning the rights of neutrals." It was to many, as Secretary of the Treasury Chase declared it was to him, "gall and wormwood." James Russell Lowell's verse expressed best the popular feeling:
We give the critters back, John, Cos Abram thought 'twas right; It warn't your bullyin' clack, John, Provokin' us to fight.
The decision raised Mr. Lincoln immeasurably in the view of thoughtful men, especially in England.
USED "RUDE TACT."
General John C. Fremont, with headquarters at St. Louis, astonished the country by issuing a proclamation declaring, among other things, that the property, real and personal, of all the persons in the State of Missouri who should take up arms against the United States, or who should be directly proved to have taken an active part with its enemies in the field, would be confiscated to public use and their slaves, if they had any, declared freemen.
The President was dismayed; he modified that part of the proclamation referring to slaves, and finally replaced Fremont with General Hunter.
Mrs. Fremont (daughter of Senator T. H. Benton), her husband's real chief of staff, flew to Washington and sought Mr. Lincoln. It was midnight, but the President gave her an audience. Without waiting for an explanation, she violently charged him with sending an enemy to Missouri to look into Fremont's case, and threatening that if Fremont desired to he could set up a government for himself.
"I had to exercise all the rude tact I have to avoid quarreling with her," said Mr. Lincoln afterwards.
"ABE" ON A WOODPILE.
Lincoln's attempt to make a lawyer of himself under adverse and unpromising circumstances--he was a bare-footed farm-hand --excited comment. And it was not to be wondered. One old man, who was yet alive as late as 1901, had often employed Lincoln to do farm work for him, and was surprised to find him one day sitting barefoot on the summit of a woodpile and attentively reading a book.
"This being an unusual thing for farm-hands in that early day to do," said the old man, when relating the story, "I asked him what he was reading.
"'I'm not reading,' he answered. 'I'm studying.'
"'Studying what?' I inquired.
"'Law, sir,' was the emphatic response.
"It was really too much for me, as I looked at him sitting there
MR. BULL DIDN'T GET HIS COTTON.
Because of the blockade, by the Union fleets, of the Southern cotton ports, England was deprived of her supply of cotton, and scores of thousands of British operatives were thrown out of employment by the closing of the cotton mills at Manchester and other cities in Great Britain. England (John Bull) felt so badly about this that the British wanted to go to war on account of it, but when the United States eagle ruffled up its wings the English thought over the business and concluded not to fight.
"Harper's Weekly" of May 16th, 1863, contained the cartoon we reproduce, which shows John Bull as manifesting much anxiety regarding the cotton he had bought from the Southern planters, but which the latter could not deliver. Beneath the cartoon is this bit of dialogue between John Bull and President Lincoln: MR. BULL (confiding creature): "Hi want my cotton, bought at fi'pence a pound."
MR. LINCOLN: "Don't know anything about it, my dear sir. Your friends, the rebels, are burning all the cotton they can find, and I confiscate the rest. Good-morning, John!"
As President Lincoln has a big fifteen-inch gun at his side, the black muzzle of which is pressed tightly against Mr. Bull's waistcoat, the President, to all appearances, has the best of the argument "by a long shot." Anyhow, Mr. Bull had nothing more to say, but gave the cotton matter up as a bad piece of business, and pocketed the loss.
STICK TO AMERICAN PRINCIPLES.
President Lincoln's first conclusion (that Mason and Slidell should be released) was the real ground on which the Administration submitted. "We must stick to American principles concerning the rights of neutrals." It was to many, as Secretary of the Treasury Chase declared it was to him, "gall and wormwood." James Russell Lowell's verse expressed best the popular feeling:
We give the critters back, John, Cos Abram thought 'twas right; It warn't your bullyin' clack, John, Provokin' us to fight.
The decision raised Mr. Lincoln immeasurably in the view of thoughtful men, especially in England.
USED "RUDE TACT."
General John C. Fremont, with headquarters at St. Louis, astonished the country by issuing a proclamation declaring, among other things, that the property, real and personal, of all the persons in the State of Missouri who should take up arms against the United States, or who should be directly proved to have taken an active part with its enemies in the field, would be confiscated to public use and their slaves, if they had any, declared freemen.
The President was dismayed; he modified that part of the proclamation referring to slaves, and finally replaced Fremont with General Hunter.
Mrs. Fremont (daughter of Senator T. H. Benton), her husband's real chief of staff, flew to Washington and sought Mr. Lincoln. It was midnight, but the President gave her an audience. Without waiting for an explanation, she violently charged him with sending an enemy to Missouri to look into Fremont's case, and threatening that if Fremont desired to he could set up a government for himself.
"I had to exercise all the rude tact I have to avoid quarreling with her," said Mr. Lincoln afterwards.
"ABE" ON A WOODPILE.
Lincoln's attempt to make a lawyer of himself under adverse and unpromising circumstances--he was a bare-footed farm-hand --excited comment. And it was not to be wondered. One old man, who was yet alive as late as 1901, had often employed Lincoln to do farm work for him, and was surprised to find him one day sitting barefoot on the summit of a woodpile and attentively reading a book.
"This being an unusual thing for farm-hands in that early day to do," said the old man, when relating the story, "I asked him what he was reading.
"'I'm not reading,' he answered. 'I'm studying.'
"'Studying what?' I inquired.
"'Law, sir,' was the emphatic response.
"It was really too much for me, as I looked at him sitting there