Ceredo advance. [volume], February 15, 1911, Image 6

About Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939

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HE history of every great man.
declares a well-known writer, be
gins at hla mother’s knee. Be
hind every great endeavor and
unselfish deed, every noble car
reer of every Illustrious man
will be found a woman—the frail
and gentle creature whoso name,
perhaps, remains obscured be
hind tho glory of her son, but
who began to teach him high
thoughts and Ideals and to lisp
"'Our Father, which art in heaven.”
Lincoln’s career began at tho
knee of Nancy Hanks Lincoln, Ills mother. It
was she who taught him to read from an old
Bible he camo to know so well, who told him
the stories In Aesop’s fables and helped him
to study the “Kentucky Pereeptor.”
It was she who taught him the letters of
the alphabet and first trained his hand to
scrawl them. It was she who Instilled In him
.a hatred of slavery and by her own gentle
loveliness inspired a regard and esteem for
women which lasted throughout his life.
Nancy Hanks Lincoln, one or the great
.president’s historians declares, was "stoop
tehoulderod, thin-breasted, sad—at times mis
erable;” a gentle, kind, uncomplaining worn
^n, whose life had been one of hard labor,
with few enjoyments, and who died before her
prime. This was Nancy Hanks Lincoln, who
lay on her deathbed, tired and worn, her face
wan, her thin, bony hands clasping those of a
nlne-year-old lad, whose deep-sunk eyes were
filled with tears, and who, when he later be
came “a liberator of a race of men,” declared:
"All that I am or ever hope to be I owe
to my mother. Blessings on her memory.”
From Ms mother Lincoln once told his
friend and law partner, William H. Herndon,
he believed he Inherited his power of analy
sis, his logic, his mental activity and his am
bition. Her memory remained with him, one
of the dearest things of his life—“a noble type
■of good, heroic womanhood.”
Nancy Hanks was five years old when her
•parents sold their farm In Virginia and went
pioneering westward toward Kentucky. Nancy
was the youngest of a family of eight chil
dren. Her father was Joseph Hanks and her
mother Nancy Shipley, a daughter of Robert
Shipley. Nancy was born February 5, 1784.
The Journey westward was a perilous one,
and It Is said Nancy was stolen by Indians
while her parents were on the way. Roads
were bad; In fact, there was only a footpath
through the wilderness, where passed the long
precession of women and children on horse
back. men trudging behind driving tho cara
vans.
Picture to yourself tho procession. de
scribed by Justice Robertson—"through pri
vations Incredible and perils thick, thousands
of men, women and children came In succes
sive caravans, forming continuous streams of
human beings, horses, cattle and other domes
tic animals, moving onward along a lonely
and homeless path to a wild and cheerless
land.
"Cast your eyes back,” he continues, "on
that long procession of missionaries in the
cause of civilization; behold the men on foot,
•with tbelr trusty guns on their shoulders, driv
ing stock and leading pack horses; and tho
women, some walking with palls on their
heads, others riding with children In their
laps and other children swung In baskets on
horses, fastened to the tails of others going
before; see them encamped at. night, expect
ing to be massacred bv Indians; behold them
In tbo month of Deermber, In that memorable
seasofl of unprecedented cold called the 'hard
winter,' traveling two or three miles a day."
And Imagine little Nancy Hanks, spindly
legged and golden-haired, shivering us she
snuggled under blankets, pursuing the road
of the pioneer*. In the child who was to
become the mother of Abraham Lincoln was
now developed a courage and perseverance
which was to he Inherited and which aft* r
ward marked one of the greatest of men.
The family settled In Washington county,
Ky., In winter. Hard work confrotfed them,
even privation. Trees had be he felled, a log
cabin built, and shelter erected for the stock.
fsittle Nancy, with her sisters, Elizabeth
nnd Polly, helped their mother, cooking and
sewing and preparing the rude home, while
♦ lie brothers, Charles, Joshua. William, Thom
as and Joseph, went about with tho father,
clearing the land for cultivation In the spring.
They animals and flshad in the cold
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streams. And whon Hiring came they dug the
hard, stony ground and planted wheat and
corn.
Thus four years passed—four years of hard
toll and hard living—and then Joseph Hanks
died. Not long afterward the mother, worn
with toil, followed; the brothers and daugh
ters married, and Nancy, left alone, was taken
in by her Aunt Lucy—a sister of her mother,
who had married Richard Berry. This home
wnr. a happy one and Nancy grew up, cheerful
and pretty.
When Nancy’s father died he left a will. It
Is still on the records of the Bardstown clerk’s
office, and as will be seen, Nancy was the
proud heiress of one heifer, a pet called Peidv.
The quaint will, which was probated May 14.
1793, runs:
"In the name of God, Amen. I. Joseph
Hanks, of Nelson county, state of Kentucky,
being of sound mind and memory, but weak
in body and calling to mind the frailty of all
human nature, do make and demise this mv
last will and testament in the manner and
form following, to wit:
"Item: I give and bequeath unto my son
Thomas one sorrel horse called Major. Item:
I give and bequeath unto my son Joshua one
gray mare Bonny. Item: I give and bequeath
unto my son William one gray horse called
Gilbert. Item: I give and bequeath unto my
son Charles one roan horse called Tobe. Item:
I give and bequeath unto my son Joseph one
horse called Bald. Also the land whereon I
now live containing one hundred and fifty
acres.
Item: I give and bequeath unto my daugh
ter Klizabeth one heifer yearling called Gentle.
Item: I give and bequeath unto my daughter
Polly one heifer yearling called Lady. Item:
I give and bequeath unto my daughter Nancy
one heifer yearling called Peldy. Item: I give
and bequeath unto my wife Nanny all and
singular my whole estate during her life, after
ward to be equally divided between all my
children. It Is also my wish and desire that
the whole of the property first above be
queathed should be tho property of my wife
during her life.*'
Here, too, can bo found a record of the seed
which budded so nobly in Joseph Hanks’
grandson. Joseph Hanks, unlike most of the
pioneers. owned no slaves. When Nancy
Hanks Inter married Thomas Lincoln they
bought no slaves anil never owned any.
Nancy’s life while she lived with her Aunt
Lucy was happy. Rhe grow into a young miss
of unusual beauty and became the belle of the
country aid*. Rhe learned to read and write,
and was considered exceptionally accom
pllshed. W hen she married Thomas Lincoln
she taught him to spell the letters of Ills name.
There are hut few and meager descriptions
of Nancy Hanks. Ono learns that she was
slight of figure, that her hair was pale golden,
almost flaxen, and her eyes were blue. Her
wit was nimble.
Rultors thronged the parlor of Aunt Lucy's
farm Hut Nnnry lost her heart to none; she
laughed gaily at their protests, parried their
importunate proposals with Jest and was so
good natured, so mirthful and funny about It
that all remained her friends.
Nnnry often went to the farm of Joseph
Hanks, at Kllzabethtown, where she saw her
cousin, Thomas Lincoln. Thomas was a car
pent^r. and If the records are true, the best In
the country for many miles.
He not only hacked and hewed and chiseled
wood with skill, but he did what none others
had succeeded in doing—chiseled his way Into
the heart of Nancy.
Thomas Lincoln had a varied career. He
wan strong as an ox, temperate In his habits,
an attendant at church and was bitterly op
posed to slavery. Both he and Nancy agreed
In that. The couple entered Into a marriage
bond on June 12, 180G. On June 14 the couple
were married by n Methodist, preacher, the
Rcr. Jesse Head, who besides being a clergy
man. was an editor, country Judge and car
penter.
And a wedding It was- with merrymaking
and feasting, There were present the Mlt
UjyeojL/r rtOMt: //y colfo cova/ty, /jll .
love Bh* must hav*
watched them ai
cneiis, ahlpleys and Berrys, Nancy's cousins,
relatives and friends from the country round
about. In a pit near the house a great fire
wan built, over which a sheep was placed and
barbecued. During the morning it roasted,
covered by green boughs, and after the wed
ding It was cut and Berved for dinner. There
wero venison, too, and wild turkey and ducks.
The wedding was remembered for years.
“There was no hint of future glory in tho
wedding or bringing home of Nancy Lincoln,”
wrote Nicolay and Hay. “All accounts repre
Hent her as a handsome young woman of
twenty-three, of appearance and intellect su
perior to her lowly fortunes. Sho could read
and write—a remarkable accomplishment in
her circle—and even taught her husband to
form tho letters of his name. He had no such
valuable wedding gift to bestow upon her; ho
brought her to a little house in Elizabethtown,
where he and sho and want dwelt together in
fourteen feet square.”
I* or two happy but needy years the couple
lived in a log cabin on the banks of what was
then known as Mill creek. Picture to your
self that home of the young bride—a single
room, with a huge fireplace, where logs burned
in winter; an iron pot suspended from a crane,
rough chairs hewn by the carpenter husband
of logs, a number of crude benches, a bed
made of rough trees from which tho bark had
not been removed, a spinning wheel by which
the industrious wife sat and wove the mate
rial for clothing; a room lacking In comforts,
typical of tho pioneer cabins of those days,
with an opening abovo into a loft, reached by
a ladder, where things were stored.
There, one day in 1807, Nancy’s first baby
was born. It was a little girl, and was called
Nancy, after the mother. Later the little girl’s
name was changed to Sarah. That was when
Thomas Lincoln married his second wife, Sa
rah Bush.
Thomas Lincoln owned a farm nenr nufTalo,
which he had bought In 1803. During the two
years ho lived on Mill creek he cultivated the
farm, Improving the ground, nnd there ho
moved the spring following the birth of Sarah.
In their life of Lincoln Nlcolay and Hay write:
'Thomas Lincoln settled down In this dis
mal r.olltude to a deeper poverty than any of
his name had ever known; and there. In the
midst of the most unpromising circumstances
that ever witnessed the advent of a hero Into
this world, Abraham Lincoln was born on Feb
ruary 12. 1809.”
The family, however, could not have been
extremely destitute, for, we are told, they had
a cow nnd a calf, milk nnd butter and a feather
bed. What wealth! When Abraham was four
the family moved again—this time to a cabin,
situated on Muldraugh s hill. There a third
child was born, which died when a few months
old.
Of the life of Nancy Lincoln at Ihls time
nothing has been written. Of his boyhood
Lincoln himself seldom spoke. Tint one can
Imagine the patient woman, alone and anas
slated, performing the work of her household,
tending the cows and milking them, making
butter, cleaning the me.agerly fnmlshe<f cabin
In which the family lived, cooking and spin
ning cloth of which she made the garments for
her husband, little Sarah and Abe
Nancy Lincoln’s beauty faded; the rosea
fled from her checks, her body became wasted
ho//<5£ j/v w/f/c/y
uyvcoL/v uWw5
3QRfY
and her shoulder*
stooped: But hep
happy spirit novel
left her; she had
a word1 of cheer for
all her neighbors,
Stories are told ol
how she visited the
sick and comforted
them, and how. when
her neighbors were
in difficulty, her ten
d e r heart w ai
moved and sh«
helped them a® best
she could.
Her life was hard
Bnt there was cause
for joy In Nancy
Lincoln’s life. Little
Abe was her con
stant delight. A1
night, when he*
work was over, she
would open the “pre
ceptor” book and
teach the two chil
dren tho letters ol
the alphabet. With
what tenderness and
they studied—so bard to memoriae the A s, rri
and C’s—and with what doting fondness she
must have trained little Abe’s tiny hand t«
trace the letters on a slate!
Dearly Nancy Lincoln loved the Bible, ami
there wero readings from the sacred book;
there was told the old, old story. And thes«
stories Lincoln never forgot. When, In aftei
life, he electrified the world by his elotyuenee.
Ills mastery of pure and perfect Rngl\sh and
his tempestuous orator}', he retold the samv
stories—the stories he heard at his mother’i
ltnee.
Life was not prosperous with the father. He
left Kentucky and went prospecting In Illinois
where ho took up land on Idttlo Pigeon creek;
in Spencer county. And again the hard-worked
wife was called upon to move her home.
With their furnlturo packed In a wagon and
their cow behind, the family started on theli
long pilgrimage in 181G. During the winter ol
181G and 1817 the family lived in a camp. The
winter was rigorous.
Uncomplainingly the tender, gentle woman
bore her lot, hut her health slowly gave way,
her face became more wan. A rough cabin wai
begun In tho spring and life opened anew. Land
was cleared. Thomas Lincoln piled his trade
among the scattered inhabitants of tho solltarj
region. They began to prosper. But the Ilf*
hnd been too hard for the tender, loving wife
and she sank under the burden.
One day In October. 1818. as she lay In hei
bed In the little cabin, she called her two chll
dren to her.
‘‘She took the hands of Snrah and the thin
serious faced hoy. "Be good to ono another*
she said, brokenly, with Infinite tenderness
Then she closed her eyes. The wonderfu
smile deepened. The sunlight faded Into even
Ing. and little Abe, leaving Sarah kneeling bj
the bed. crept away and climbed the pegs In th«
wall to the garret, where ho flung himself on
the mattress of leaves.
Night fell, and from the loft came a stifled
sound of sobbing—sobbing repressed, checked
restrained, yet so poignant, so keen, so heart
forlorn that the father, returning homo, paused
hearing It. his heart sinking. He knew the sun
light of the boy's life had departed.
Many years afterward people wondered at
the sorrow moulded indelibly on the face ol
Lincoln like agony graven on a figure of stone
Before the next December Thomas Lincoln
married Sarah Bush Johnston, a widow, who
it is said, had rejected him many years before
In later years, when Lincoln, again shrouded
in sorrow, sat by the bedside of Me little son.
Willie, who was dying, he cried In despair:
This Is the hardest trial of my life. Why li
It? Why is It?" A nurse who had lost her hus
band and children told him of her loss, adding,
“But. I trust in Cod. J rely upon his will.” Lin
coin shook his head sadly.
On the day of the funeral he asked the nurse
and some friends to pray for him. ‘1 will try
to go to Ood with my sorrows,” he said. "I wish
I had that chlldllko faith you speak ot I trust
Ood will give it to me.”
Then his memory traveled hack over ths
years and his first loss by death came his
mind. He told of his mother’s confident belief
In the wisdom of Ood. ”1 remember her pray
era.” he said In a low voice, “and they have
always followed rn*> They have followed me all
my Ilia."
CHECK IT IN TlftTI.
Wir people realise the grave da»
ger of neglecting the kidneys. The
■lightest kidney symptom may be Na
ture’s warning of dropsy, diabetes or
dreaded Bright’s dig.
ease. If you have
any kidney symp
tom, begin using
Doan’s Kidney Pills
at once.
W. P. Miller. Pen
der, Nebr., says: "I
■pent over 11,000.00
trying to get well.
PVi!dr»«fM4«ynT | but “y We was de
' spalred of. The doc
tors said I had tom the ligaments of
the kidneys apart. I began using
Doan’s Kidney Pills and they were
the first remedy that helped me. Were
It not for them, I would hays had to
give up work.”
Remember the name—Doan's.
For sale by all dealers. 50 cents a
box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. T.
Of Court a.
*T see that the inmates of a Now
York lunatic asylum are going to is
sue a weekly paper.'*
“Yes, and I’ll bet every fool ouiside
will think he could edit It better than
It la edited by the lunatic inside.”
IT IS A MISTAKE
Many have the idea that anyming
win sell If advertised strong enough.
This is a great mistake. True, a
few Bales might be made by advertis
ing an absolutely worthless article
but it Is only the article that is
bought again, and again that pays.
An example of tho big success of a
worthy, articlo is tho enormous salw
that has grown up for Cascarets
Candy Cathartic. This wonderful rse
ord is the result of great merit sue-*
i cessfully made known through per
. Bistent advertising and the mouth-to»
mouth recommendation given Cas
| carets by its friends and users.
Like all great successes, trade pi
rates prey on the unsuspecting pub
lic, by marketing fake tablets similar
in appearance to Cascarets. Car*
should always be exercised in pui*
chasing well advertised goods, espe
cially an article that has a national
sale like Cascarets. Do not allow a.
substitute to be pafmed off on you.
THE EASIEST WAY.
Capt. Jack—I understand that you’re
engaged to on© ol tho Bullion twin*.
How do you distinguish one from the
other?
Lady Kitty—I don’t try.
An Optical Illusion.
"I specks Mistah ’Kastus Plnkley
Is In trouble,” said Miss Miami lirown.
"Las' evenin’ I saw de teardrops
streamin’ down his face.”
"Dem warn’t teardrops.” replied
hisse’l a little splattered up fillin’ his
Miss Cleopatra Jackson. "He des got
Christmas gif’ fountain pen.”
Since the Price of Eggs Rose.
Hewitt—How did he make his fop*
tune?
Jewitt—He kept a hen.—Woman's
Home Companion.
Avoiding the Executioner.
"Why does a hen cross the road?”
“So as to avoid getting into th«
chicken pie.”—Judge.
Without
a Cook?
Never mind—you can have
a good breakfast if there’s a
package of
Post
T oasties
in the house.
This delicious food, ready
to serve without cooking, is
always welcome and makes
Breakfast
a Delight
"The Memory Lingers"
potrrvM cxrkal oo , i/nx,
* Battle Greek, Mt«h.
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