CHAPTER TWO
Congressman John Jacobs sat next to Sullivan Ballou in the House Chambers of Rhode Island. Ballou was the recently-elected Speaker of the House, and already considered a potential candidate for Governor.
“What do you think of all this war talk?” Sullivan asked.
Jacobs, a man with a loud voice and opinions to match said, “I doubt that it will happen. There’s too much at stake for the southern cotton plantations. If they raise a hand against the Union, that will leave them only with England as a customer. They’d be cutting off their nose to spite their face.”
Ballou considered his friends opinion. “I’m so sure about that, John. The South is more interested in state’s rights than cotton. If Washington continues to interfere in their day-to-day affairs, I’m afraid it will not bode well for any of us.”
Jacobs raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about secession?”
“I’m not sure what route they’ll take,” Ballou said gravely. “But I can assure you of this: they will not stand idly by as the world they’ve known for over a hundred years is changed for the betterment of all men.”
“You mean slavery.”
“Yes, that, and the right to live as free men, independent of a federal government.”
Jacobs laughed. “You can’t be serious. If there is secession, that would mean war. And any state that engages in war with Washington would be crushed in a matter of weeks.”
Ballou knew he could not change his colleague’s mind, so he didn’t try. Nothing is so firm as the biased opinion of an egotistical politician. Unfortunately a great many men and women, politicians and otherwise, agreed with Jacob’s assessment. In fact, most of Rhode Island considered the threats as mostly talk from a small group of rabble-rousers and extremists who had nothing better to do with their time than argue with the government.
Somehow though, Ballou felt they were severely underestimating the will of the men south of the Mason Dixon Line. He knew them to be a very serious lot, with more than enough courage to stand up for what they felt was their birthright as a state. Thus far, President Lincoln had remained neutral or at least silent on the matter. Ballou hoped if war actually did arrive in the United States that the right man was in the White House. He personally felt Lincoln capable but unproven. And in time of war, unproven can become a fatal flaw.
“What is your opinion of Lincoln?” Ballou asked Jacobs.
“Lincoln?” Jacobs said with a smirk. “He’ll never win the election. Seward is the man who is going to Washington.”
Though Ballou seldom sought out an argument, this was one he could not resist.
“I disagree, John. While he may not be the most experienced candidate we’ve had, Lincoln has a vision of what must be done to preserve the Union.”
Jacobs shook his head. “Don’t tell me he has you in his pocket already? Just because you introduced him to the House in February, you think he’s suddenly qualified to be the most powerful man in America?”
This statement was partially true. While far from being in anyone’s pocket, Ballou did in fact, persuade Lincoln to address the House of Representatives in February. It was a rousing introduction of the man few people knew, as Lincoln shared his thoughts on the rights and privileges of living in a free nation, and “How, we as a nation, cannot endure half-slave and half-free.”
Few members of the House had ever heard Lincoln speak, and were duly impressed with his skill, but openly skeptical of his assessment.
“And besides,” Jacobs continued, “He’s uneducated. He has little formal schooling past the eighth grade, and little experience in politics. The country would be better off with a more seasoned politician”
Ballou fondly recalled the few hours he spent with Lincoln prior to his speech.
“Tell me, Congressman Ballou,” Lincoln said with a slight smile. “What kind of reception can I expect today?”
“Mr. Lincoln,” Ballou replied. “You’re a Republican candidate for president of the United States. You will have many friends in the House, I assure you.”
Lincoln laughed. “But it’s not the friends I’m concerned with. It’s who reacts the loudest.”
Prior to meeting the man from Illinois, Ballou had formed several opinions of the backwoods politician, none of which were proving to be true. He envisioned Lincoln as stoic yet found him out-going, arrogant yet discovered him humble, serious and was pleasantly surprised to find he had a wonderful sense of humor.
“Mr. Lincoln,” Ballou confessed after an hour-long chat. “I have to confess you are not the man I thought you might be.”
A warm light shone in Lincoln’s eyes. “Ah, yes, I see you’ve been reading the newspapers. You realize of course that you should believe only half of what you see and nothing of what you read. Unless it is a flattering article, then believe it as you would the gospel.”
Ballou was charmed, which was not an emotion he felt easily toward a man running for public office.
Later that same afternoon, Ballou’s wife Sarah and his two children arrived at the House Chambers, and were introduced.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Lincoln said as he extended his hand.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Sarah replied. “I’ve read quite a bit about you in the newspapers.”
Lincoln and Ballou exchanged looks, after which both men couldn’t help but laugh.
“Unfortunately, so have I,” Lincoln replied with a grin.
Sarah caught the humor and assured Lincoln that she only read only the most reputable newspapers, which always had positive reports on him.
“What a splendid response,” Lincoln said. “I can see that a bit of Sullivan’s political nature has rubbed off on you.”
Lincoln looked down to the children. “And who do we have here? Such fine looking young men.”
Willie raised his hand. “I’m Willie, sir, and this is Edgar.”
Lincoln shook both the boy’s hands. “I have a son about your age,” he said to the older boy. “His name is Willie also. He’s ten.”
“Me too,” Willie said, happy to have something in common with the tall man.
“Do you have any with my name?” Edgar asked unexpectedly.
Lincoln kneeled down so that he was at young boy’s height. “No, we have no Edgars, but I have a son Tad, who will be seven in April. How old are you?”
Edgar smiled broadly, revealing a missing tooth he’d lost in a wrestling match at school. “I’m eight and a half, but I’m short because of my back.”
Lincoln nodded quietly. “I see. And what’s wrong with your back?”
“It doesn’t grow straight, but Mama said I might grow out of it.”
The room suddenly grew quiet as the tall man with the wise eyes, gazed upon the small boy. He placed his hand gently on Edgar’s head. “It’s not how tall you are that counts, Edgar,” Lincoln then tapped Edgar’s chest. “It’s what’s in here.”
On the way home that afternoon following Lincoln’s address, Sarah leaned close to her husband. “I’m embarrassed to admit something,” she said.
“Which is?” Sullivan asked with curiosity.
“I’m afraid I misjudged Mr. Lincoln.”
“How so?”
“I thought him to be an unsophisticated, backwoods lawyer who somehow stumbled into the political arena, sure to be crushed by the hard ways and harder men of Washington.”
“And what do you think now?”
“Now, I think he may have a chance at the presidency. A very good chance.”
“Yes,” Sullivan said. “He certainly knows how to deliver a speech.”
“It’s not the speech that changed my mind. It was the way he spoke to Edgar. Any man that would kneel before a child and talk directly to him without any pretense or false sentiment, is a great human being. And it is great human beings that make great presidents.”
Sullivan smiled. “You seem quite taken with Mr. Lincoln. Do I have reason for concern? You know he’s a happily married man.?
??
“You’re right, I am taken with Mr. Lincoln, but I’m in love with you.”
“And how does being taken with someone and being in love with someone differ?”
“That, Mr. Ballou,” Sarah replied, a suggestive lilt in her voice. “I will gladly demonstrate when we get home tonight.”
Sullivan laughed then shouted at the horse-drawn carriage, “Get on, now boys! We haven’t got all day!”
To which the horses responded by breaking into a gallop.
Willie cheered their effort and Edgar stood, tapping his chest with his right hand, saying, “It don’t matter how tall I get. I got something better!”
And the entire Ballou family broke into a happy song together.
It was a wonderful day (and night) for them all.
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