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Letter to Mary Speed--September 3, 1841

 

The following is a personal letter from Abraham Lincoln to Mary Speed.  Mary Speed was the half-sister of Lincoln’s closest friend Joshua Speed.  Lincoln met and was befriended by the Speed family when he moved to Springfield in 1837.  They were roommates at one point and Speed was Lincoln’s confidant on a wide range of matters including Lincoln’s anxieties about women and his tumultuous engagement with Mary Todd.  It is important to understand Lincoln’s intended audience with this letter as it was not a public statement of his political beliefs.  The Speed family were wealthy slave owners from Farmington, Kentucky therefore it is with that understanding that rapport and understanding of the Speeds that Lincoln wrote this letter.[1]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Abraham Lincoln                                                                       Joshua Speed

 

The purpose of the letter was predominantly to catch up with a family friend, but what makes this document significant is Lincoln spent a significant portion of the letter describing a scene he witnessed of a group of black slaves being sold off in St. Louis. 

 

“My Friend: Having resolved to write to some of your mother's family, and not having the express permission of any one of them [to] do so, I have had some little difficulty in determining on which to inflict the task of reading what I now feel must be a most dull and silly letter; but when I remembered that you and I were something of cronies while I was at Farmington, and that, while there, I once was under the necessity of shutting you up in a room to prevent your committing an assault and battery upon me, I instantly decided that you should be the devoted one.

 

I assume that you have not heard from Joshua & myself since we left, because I think it doubtful whether he has written.

You remember there was some uneasiness about Joshua's health when we left. That little indisposition of his turned out to be nothing serious; and it was pretty nearly forgotten when we reached Springfield. We got on board the Steam Boat Lebanon, in the locks of the Canal about 12. o'clock. M. of the day we left, and reached St. Louis the next monday at 8 P.M. Nothing of interest happened during the passage, except the vexatious delays occasioned by the sand bars be thought interesting. By the way, a fine example was presented on board the boat for contemplating the effect of condition upon human happiness. A gentleman had purchased twelve negroes in different parts of Kentucky and was taking them to a farm in the South. They were chained six and six together. A small iron clevis was around the left wrist of each, and this fastened to the main chain by a shorter one at a convenient distance from, the others; so that the negroes were strung together precisely like so many fish upon a trot-line. In this condition they were being separated forever from the scenes of their childhood, their friends, their fathers and mothers, and brothers and sisters, and many of them, from their wives and children, and going into perpetual slavery where the lash of the master is proverbially more ruthless and unrelenting than any other where; and yet amid all these distressing circumstances, as we would think them, they were the most cheerful and apparantly happy creatures on board. One, whose offence for which he had been sold was an over-fondness for his wife, played the fiddle almost continually; and the others danced, sung, cracked jokes, and played various games with cards from day to day. How true it is that ``God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,'' or in other words, that He renders the worst of human conditions tolerable, while He permits the best, to be nothing better than tolerable.

 

To return to the narative. When we reached Springfield, I staid but one day when I started on this tedious circuit where I now am. Do you remember my going to the city while I was in Kentucky, to have a tooth extracted, and making a failure of it? Well, that same old tooth got to paining me so much, that about a week since I had it torn out, bringing with it a bit of the jawbone; the consequence of which is that my mouth is now so sore that I can neither talk, nor eat. I am litterally ``subsisting on savoury remembrances''---that is, being unable to eat, I am living upon the remembrance of the delicious dishes of peaches and cream we used to have at your house.”[2]

 

Lincoln continued and concluded the letter with the inquiries and pleasantries common of friends catching up with other.  He did not reference or continue with the recollection of the slave trading he witnessed.  Considering the “Protest of Slavery” document from 1837, it is interesting to note that Lincoln commented on the personal experiences of slaves more in personal exchanges and letters than public addresses.  Lincoln did not need more reason to avoid commenting on the personal experiences of slaves in public than the basic makeup of the social and political beliefs of Illinoisans.  But, even when he did comment on the experiences of slaves, there is a cold and analytical tone in his approach.  He established first that “nothing of interest happened during the passage. . .” and then described a situation in which twelve slaves were sold to a “gentleman” to be sent to the South.[3]  The focus of Lincoln’s story ultimately rested on the ability of God to allow people to live under awful circumstances.  His description of the plight of the twelve slaves is informative in how Lincoln viewed the evils of slavery; he put words and example to his consistent statements of legitimate distaste for the institution.  This is not something that Lincoln did often throughout his life or throughout his political career.  But, it should be mentioned that in the next paragraph, Lincoln made it known that the aside about slavery was not the intended narrative of the letter and perhaps was merely a segue to how God permitted he himself to live through the pain of having a tooth extracted.  While it is safe to assume that Lincoln was not as callous as to compare his own dental ailments with the experience of slavery, the transition and subject of his narrative remains awkward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The Custom in Washington, Capitol of the US"

 

When examining this passage there is an inconsistency in tone and language.  He refers to those sold more as negroes than as slaves and only mentions the institution once.  To a modern historian, a struggle is presented in reconciling a cold analysis of a terrible scene witnessed by Lincoln and the strong language he used in this statement.  Likewise, considering the words he used to describe the fate of the twelve slaves who went to a master, “. . .more ruthless and unrelenting than any other. . .” to live in, “. . .the worst of human conditions. . .” it is clear that Lincoln recognized slavery as a terrible situation.  He noted that the separation of families and loved ones as amongst the worst circumstances.  Yet, he could not just leave his commentary at this judgment, he went further when he established that the pain of these slaves was soothed by God’s grace to allow them to sing, dance, and play games.  He did not end his story with the harsh realities of the lives of slaves, but with a philosophic offering to the power of religion.  Likewise, when one considers the enormous cultural structure and impact of slavery, again Lincoln did not comment on the experiences of the negroes as free men or citizens.  Nor did he comment on the impact of slavery on racial equality in general.  This limited scope in commentary—perhaps in thought as well—was a consistent feature of Lincoln in his early political career and a facet of his own experiences growing up somewhat separated from racial integration and the institution of slavery. 

 

Historian Phillip Shaw Paludan provided a comprehensive analysis of Lincoln’s comments on the experiences of slaves.  He commented on Lincoln’s limited ability to address the horrors of slavery within the context of the Abolition Movement that commented on just those experiences and much more:

 

“In his lifetime, Lincoln had witnessed William Lloyd Garrison’s announcement of the birth of immediatism, read of Nat Turner’s rebellion, which spilled the blood of fifty-five white people, mostly women and children, seen hundreds of abolition newspapers and pamphlets describing in detail slavery’s horrors, and heard not a few abolition speakers.  It was after these events that he wrote this most extensive and specific discussion describing the pain that slavery inflicted on black people.  And Lincoln is interested predominantly in slave songs and dance and not the violence of bondage.  At best he ameliorates slavery’s horror with an inference that black folks have a special capacity to deal with captivity.”[4]

 

Despite, the vast wealth grown from slavery under cotton and the cultural backlash of northerners, especially in New England, Lincoln did not alter his beliefs or take a stronger stance against slavery as a result of the abolitionist movement.  Although, the Movement was largely a divided effort with a wide-spectrum of different leaders and methods, Lincoln viewed the abolitionists as radical.  At best he expressed disinterest to the movement’s goal and efforts towards immediate emancipation and at worst he considered such actions as hostilely provoking slavery’s expansion.

 

It is clear that Lincoln viewed slavery as an unjust institution not only in the context of corrupting American society, but also in the context of producing the “worst of human conditions” on earth.  But he did not comment on how far-reaching those conditions were or that they could possibly extend towards the experiences of free blacks by the simple reality that the system of slavery was race-based.  Likewise, when he did comment on the individual horrors of slavery, he did so in private and not as a political candidate up for election.  Lincoln understood that in the 1840s, “to be branded an abolitionist in central Illinois—his constituency as a legislator and a U.S. congressman—would have been certain political suicide.”[5]  This is an intuitive political attribute of most men who vie for office; the ability to campaign to the strengths one has to the audience that is willing to receive them while concealing offensive qualities or beliefs.  While Lincoln holds a sacred place in the American historical lexicon, it is significant to remember he was a talented politician who crafted his statements and thoughts with his audience in mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speed Family Plantation in Kentucky 

 

However, with Lincoln’s apprehensions and political ambitions in mind, it is telling to note that Lincoln’s recollection of this event and the significance he placed on it changed with time.  In another letter to Joshua Speed written in 1855, Lincoln referred to the memory of this trip and used it as the basis for a much stronger statement on the institution of slavery and its impact on his own character:

 

“You know I dislike slavery; and you fully admit the abstract wrong of it. So far there is no cause of difference. But you say that sooner than yield your legal right to the slave -- especially at the bidding of those who are not themselves interested, you would see the Union dissolved. I am not aware that any one is bidding you to yield that right; very certainly I am not. I leave that matter entirely to yourself. I also acknowledge your rights and my obligations, under the constitution, in regard to your slaves. I confess I hate to see the poor creatures hunted down, and caught, and carried back to their stripes, and unrewarded toils; but I bite my lip and keep quiet. In 1841 you and I had together a tedious low-water trip, on a Steam Boat from Louisville to St. Louis. You may remember, as I well do, that from Louisville to the mouth of the Ohio, there were, on board, ten or a dozen slaves, shackled together with irons. That sight was a continued torment to me; and I see something like it every time I touch the Ohio, or any other slave-border. It is hardly fair for you to assume, that I have no interest in a thing which has, and continually exercises, the power of making me miserable. You ought rather to appreciate how much the great body of the Northern people do crucify their feelings, in order to maintain their loyalty to the Constitution and the Union.”[6]

 

While there had been a great many developments both in the development of the political debate over slavery and its impact on America as well as development in Abraham Lincoln’s life and beliefs, the 1855 letter demonstrated that this memory was a totem that Lincoln used to anchor his antislavery sentiments.  Lincoln in the 1850s railed against slavery with more vigor and a more complex set of beliefs than he did in the 1840s;  though just like the 1840s, it is interesting to note, he did not expand his the description of his torment to areas beyond slavery in the oppression of the black race in America.  He provided half an explanation for the stunted development of his beliefs on the black race (or perhaps the stunted expression of his more expansive beliefs) in the 1855 letter—Northern people were constitutionally bound to “crucify their feelings” to honor the Union of America.  The limits of his outspokenness on the issue of slavery, and even more limits in regard to racial equality, along his respect for the Constitution were mainstays of his early political career and life.

 

 

 

 

[1]  Donald, David Herbert.  Lincoln.  New York City:  Simon & Schuster, 1995.  Print.  69-70, 88

 

[2] Abraham Lincoln, Letter to Mary Speed [September 17, 1841], Roy Basler, ed., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln (8 vols., New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953), 1: 260-261

 

[3] Paludan, Phillip Shaw.  “Lincoln and Negro Slavery:  I Haven’t Got Time for the Pain.”  Journal of the Abraham Lincoln Association Vol. 27 Issue 2 (2006):  12. Web.

 

[4] Paludan, Phillip Shaw.  “Lincoln and Negro Slavery:  I Haven’t Got Time for the Pain.”  Journal of the Abraham Lincoln Association Vol. 27 Issue 2 (2006):  12. Web.

 

[5] Oates, Stephen B.  Our Fiery Trial:  Abraham Lincoln, John Brown, and the Civil War Era.  Amherst:  University of Massachusetts Press, 1978.  Print. 66

 

[6] Abraham Lincoln, Letter to Joshua Speed [August 24, 1855], Roy Basler, ed., The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln (8 vols., New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953), 2: 321-323

 

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