River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1882-06-08
LIsCOLN,S MOTHER.
Interesting story of Her Death The
Love Borne by the Statesman for His
Aged Parent--The Log Cabin and the
Days of P0yerty--The Last sad
Washington Republican.

| ter of the autor. DIR. Canlsus was al
intimate friend of President Lincoln
ard has come into possession of many
interesting facts relating to the Lincoln
| family which would tend 10 make him
a faithful biographer:
Unfortunately, Abe was not allowed
to follow his inclination. The summer
season again called him from his studies.
Not only was there work in abund-
ance in the woods and fields, but the
state of his mothers health became
more and more hopeless, so he was
again compelled to perform the hardest
work of the household, which his sister
could not accomplish alone. The noble
hearted Mrs. Lincoln had become the
shadow of her former self. Pale and
emaciated, she glided about the house,
and when she attempted now and then
to perform with weak and trembling
hands some little task she felt as though
the exertion had exhausted all her en-
ergies. She seemed like a moving
corps, and only her strong will appear
ed to shield her body from total disso-
luton. She would not yet depart from
her Loving ones, and-she lived. But
how miserable that life during the whole
of that summer! What torture it had
become to herl How many sleepless,
feverish nights succeeded each otherl
"At last she could no longer move
about the hut to direct and superintend
the household affairs. For days she
lay PROSTATE on her bed, with closed
eyes, only now and then lisping feebiy
few words, yet whatever she uttered
in such sad moments was filed with
tender care for her family. Even in
the occasional feverish wanderings of
her mind her thoughts fingered ON that
which in her laborious existence had
formed the very essence of her life,
and disclosed the once untiring activity
of worthy, excellent, and Industrious
housewife. On warm, sunny days,
Father Thomas would carry the weak
and now feather-light sufferer into the
shade of tree in front of the little
house where Abe and his sister pre-
pared with loving hands q couch of
pillows and bedding. There Mother
Nancy often sat for hours together, the
chills creeping through her frame even
in the glowing sun-heat. Even then
she looked with faint smile toward
her husband, who worked in the adj
joining field, and who cast at intervals
a care-worn and anxious look toward
his suffering wife +; or her eyes followed
the flight of birds that seemed to ascend
to higher world, to that far and I'M
known land toward which her soul was
striving, for Moher Nancy was about
to close her earthly existence, although
she struggled against her approaching
dissolution.
How beautifully, in such moments
the sunlight TRANSPORTED the mild
countenance of the parent and dying
womanl How distinctly was it reveal
ed then that pure, God-fearing soul
was departing this life ! The quiet and
pious expression of her face was truly
spiritual, the beautiful, eloquent eyes
were clearer than ever, and over her
entire figure was poured that holiness
which the nature of just person in
the last hours of life, Ike a PRESENT.
ment of eternal happiness is endowed.
And when Sarah, who so early had to
take the housewives place, left the hut
and her work now and then to attend
to her mothers wants--when Abe, awk-
ward and slovenly as he was, crept
with sorrowful face toward the suf-
ferer's side and locked with his large,
intelligent eyes tearfully upon the
invalid, often plucking shyly but tend
erly at the pillows which she rested, or,
overcome with grief, bent over her
powerless and emaciated hands, ming
ling the sealding tears with his
burning kisses-even then she had a
smile for them, and no worthy anxiety
was visible in her pale, sweet face, for
as Heaven shed its glorious light
over her features, faith and hope filled
her heart and robbed the though of
death of its horrors.
A lovely autumn day was drawing to
an end. The sun had just disappeared
behind the tops of the forest trees; the
ether, with its light, motionless clouds,
glowed in rosy hues and shed soft,
golden light over foliage and field and
over the cabin of the Lincoln's. 1t was
yet daylight, and the little family
formed quiet and sad group before
the house. Legrand, who during the
first stage of Nancy's illness had re-
peatedly called at the house of our set
tiers, now wandered again among the
Indians of the far west. No one was
present but the father, the suffering
mother, and her two children. 1t was
a Sunday evening, too. Abe had al
ready, on many Sabbath, undertaken
ibis mothers holy Office of reading the
Scriptures to the pious and godly fam
| lily. Now, again, he sat upon log near
Mother Nancy, the old family Bible
upon his knees, reading the Gospel in
soft but clear voice. His little sister
sat beside the roughly improvlsed
couch of the mother, looking dreamily
into her pale face and sunken eyes,
while one of the thin hands of the pa
tent woman rested upon the daughters
curly head. Father Thomas leaned
against the tall sycamore whose mighty
branches Swallowed the log-cabin and
the orrowing slittle group. His broad
chest, across which his arms were fold
ed, heaved and betrayed the feelings OF
the husband. He gazed motionless in
to his wife's almost TRANSPORTED coun-
tenance, over which, at that moment,
the evening cast rcseate hue. a;
times his lips moved convulsively
as if unable to repress the
anguish that cramped his
heart. His fearful eyes expressed the
terrible grief and awful solcitude Of
the plain but deep-feeling pioneer
Mother Nancy's earthly moments were
numbered. This Thomas could not
disguise from himself. He saw it by
the momentary, light, scarcely percep
tible commissions of her emaciatec
body; by the change that had taker
place during the last hour of her beati
| fed. gentle face; by the eyes that be
came more and more glazed, and only
now and then lit up with an expression
of love and anxiety for her dear ones
'Stop reading, Abe," he murmured
trembling with apprehension; sit wor
ries your mother"
"No," breathed Mrs. Lincoln il
broken sentences; cit seems as thougl
angels-were singing PSALMS as though
the entire glory--of the other wcrl'
were disclosed to me-yes, thus-thu
1 always wished to die--the blue HEAVIER
above me, you at my side-and God