Death in the Moonlight

PROLOGUE

November 9, 1857

Mason County, Illinois

Abraham Lincoln is Duff’s best chance to escape the hangman’s noose, said Jack Armstrong to his wife Hannah. You wouldn’t deny a dying man’s last wish."

Hannah Armstrong leaned over the bed and blinked away tears as she stared at her husband. His once powerful body shook and sweated under three quilts. His face was weathered and seamed by years of exposure to the sun. His grizzled hair and beard had been washed clean. His cheeks were shaved,

Don’t die, she demanded, tucking strands of her gray hair under her red handkerchief.

Dying ain’t bad so far, he said softly. Everybody’s got to do it some time. I’ve felt worse than this a score of times. I’m sorry to be leaving you, my love, but except for the mess Duff is in, I made my peace with the world. I truly believe I am going to a better place. My run is nearly over, and thanks mostly to you, I’ve had a life I would not trade with any king or president. But Duff’s murder trial troubles my mind.

Hannah sat with her back straight in a chair beside the bed. She looked at her husband tenderly with clear brown eyes.

I don’t know if Mr. Lincoln would even remember simple people like us, honey, she said as she shook her head. He’s a big man now. He’s a railroad lawyer and they write about him in the newspaper. Folks tell me he’s going to run against Senator Douglas.

He won’t forget when I had my hands on him, said Armstrong. I’ll warrant no man ever gripped him harder.

He argues before the highest courts in the land, she added. He may not want to remember his days as a farm hand.

He won’t forget your many kindnesses toward him, said Armstrong in a voice little more than a whisper.

Even if he remembers, Hannah scolded, how would we ever pay for his services? He must charge a king’s ransom these days.

Armstrong cleared his throat.

I hate to ask you, he said, but you could borrow against the property. You know the boys would never allow you to lose the farm.

I don’t know if Mr. Lincoln would have the time to spare. He must be terribly busy these days.

Armstrong closed his eyes and let out a theatrical moan. He opened his eyes and winked at his wife.

Why do I put up with you? she asked in mock exasperation. All right, I will ask the man. That’s all I can promise.

Thank you. That eases my mind considerably. I trust that Mr. Lincoln will take care of the rest.

Hannah stroked her husband’s cheek. Tears rolled down her face.

Did you shave me? he asked in a raspy voice.

She nodded and struggled to keep her composure.

Good, whispered Armstrong. Thank you. I’ve been shaved and shriven. I’m getting ready to meet Jesus. In my time I could lick any man in the county. I could get up earlier, work later and get more done than any other two men put together. I had the fastest horses, the best hunting dogs, the prettiest wife and the biggest crops around. I could sing louder and jump higher than anyone.

Armstrong closed his eyes and smiled. He slipped into sleep never to wake up again.

CHAPTER 1

June 16, 1858

Outside the Hall of the House of Representatives, Springfield, Illinois

Samuel Anthony and two young men with notebooks approached Abraham Lincoln, who towered over the crowd in the hallway of the statehouse.

Abraham Lincoln, I’d like to introduce you to two gentlemen of the press who have traveled far to hear your speech, Anthony said. A heavy-set man in his forties, Anthony’s florid complexion revealed his fondness for alcohol, and his body sagged beneath his wrinkled, ash-stained black suit. "Thaddeus Chapel is a journalist for the Richmond Enquirer, which is a strong supporter of the extension of slavery. He’s just arrived from Virginia."

Lincoln extended his hand toward Chapel, a dapper wiry man with a pale complexion and dark eyes.

Virginia, the state of presidents. Land of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and other giants in liberty, he said. He looked gaunt and awkward in his ill-fitting black suit. His face seemed to be constructed of sharp angles, and his brow protruded over deep-set gray eyes. Chapel’s hand nearly disappeared in Lincoln’s as the men shook hands.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lincoln, said Chapel. As a challenger unknown outside Illinois, do you really think you can beat the distinguished senator with his national reputation?

Fortunately for me, answered Lincoln, I only have to worry about his reputation with the voters within Illinois.

And this is August Dietrich, said Anthony, "who scribes for the Dutch readers of the Penn Statesman, whose publisher calls for the immediate abolition of slavery."

Dietrich was a solid man in his middle twenties with blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and big hands. His blue coat and white shirt were too tight for his heavily muscled frame.

You hail from Pennsylvania, said Lincoln, shaking Dietrich’s hand, a state that provided our nation with the great Benjamin Franklin and many other patriots. I very much enjoyed my visit there some years ago.

What would you like to say to those who demand an immediate end of slavery? Dietrich asked, his accent markedly German.

I would say, answered Lincoln, that they should act with reason and seek to use the means established by the fathers of our nation to change the laws of the Constitution. I would also say that, personally, I have found that making demands of another person does little in the way of persuading him toward my point of view.

May I ask a follow-up question? asked Chapel. What part of Senator Douglas’s reputation in Illinois leads you to believe you may defeat him in the canvass?

In Illinois, said Lincoln, "he has a reputation as the unwitting father of violence. You know, of course, that Judge Douglas was the man who destroyed the old agreement – the Missouri Compromise – about where slavery could and could not flourish. We thought it was nailed down forever. Slavery was tolerated but it was limited to the South. Then Judge Douglas blew up the agreement that kept us at peace. With northern and southern members of the Democracy, or the Democratic Party if you prefer that term, Judge Douglas engineered passage of the Nebraska Bill, which declared that people in the new territories could vote if they wanted slavery or not. The judge says he ‘don’t care’ whether people vote slavery up or down, but he killed an amendment to allow people the opportunity to vote to exclude slavery forever from a territory.

Nobody thought slavery could flourish in the Nebraska territory so that vote went peacefully. In the Kansas Territory, however, the future of slavery was uncertain. Border Ruffians supporting slavery and Jayhawkers opposing slavery both ravaged ‘Bleeding Kansas’ as they sought to force their will on the residents. Certainly, Judge Douglas did not intend to initiate violence and bloodshed, but he lit the torch that set the prairie on fire.

Chapel and Dietrich began to write in their notebooks.

Lincoln grasped the lapels of his frock coat.

Welcome, gentlemen, to Springfield, said Lincoln with a smile. "I hope you will not judge all of us in Illinois by my sartorial appearance and the elegance of Mr. Anthony. Some men of the West are actually civilized, a claim I do not make about myself or my friend, the distinguished editor of the Springfield Clarion."

These gentlemen are looking forward to hearing your acceptance speech, said Anthony.

Don’t expect too much, warned Lincoln. I am reminded of the farmer who sheared his sheep and set out to a distant town where the market for wool was especially strong. The trip was long, and he grew tired driving through the dusty countryside. Then he spotted a sign that read ‘Strawberries.’ That sounded good. A little further on, he said another sign that said ‘Strawberry Shortcake.’ Next, he came upon another sign that read ‘Strawberry Shortcake at the First Baptist Church, church social.’ The farmer noted that the date given was that very day. He started going faster, almost tasting the strawberry shortcake. Finally, he arrived in the town, and getting directions, he drove immediately to the church. Outside the church he saw a large placard that said ‘Church Social Tonight. All the strawberry shortcake you can eat.’ Then he noticed that in small letters at the bottom of the sign someone had written, ‘Due to the drought, this year instead of strawberries, we will have prunes.’ With my speech, you gentlemen will have to be satisfied with prunes. Lincoln laughed so hard at his joke that the other men soon joined with him.

If you gentlemen will excuse me, he said, I have a speech to make to the convention. Mr. Anthony will be able to supply you with copies of it. I look forward to talking with each of you later and continuing our conversations.

Anthony smiled. "Working with Mr. Lincoln, I was able to learn the entire text of his speech word for word. I’m having the Clarion presses print up a special edition about the Republican convention. It includes his acceptance speech. It also has the names of all of the delegates and a bit of information about each one. The edition will come out in time for the delegates to have a copy to take home with them. Mr. Lincoln worked hard on his speech. This way it will have come out exactly as he wrote it."

And you will have a stream of ready customers, observed Chapel, who otherwise might not buy the paper at all.

I believe you are correct, answered Anthony. I had a few copies run off already. You gentlemen may look at Mr. Lincoln’s speech even as he gives it.

In the packed hall the crowd chanted, Lin-coln! Lin-coln! Lin-coln! Men swayed and clapped as they stood and cheered, some passing around bottles of whiskey, others jockeying for a position where they could see.

This must be like being born again, Lincoln mused.

The hall reeked of tobacco, whiskey and the sweat of too many men in too small a space. Desks and chairs had been haphazardly pushed to the long walls on either side of the hall. Scattered among them were spittoons, snuffboxes, pens and bottles of India ink. Papers and other debris spilled from the desks. The double-entry doors in the back of the hall hung wide open in the vain hope of attracting a breeze. Curious people crowded around doors and windows.

Standing in the stifling air around the speaker stand, Lincoln felt sweat rolling down the back of his neck. It stained his starched white linen collar and glued his shirt to his back. The noise of the crowd rang in his ears.

He patted his vest pocket and felt the paper, folded neatly in thirds, with the words of the resolution the Republican convention had passed unanimously earlier in the day: Resolved, that Abraham Lincoln is the first and only choice of the Republicans of Illinois for the United States Senate, as successor of Stephen A. Douglas.

When the noise lessened, Lincoln stepped forward and began to speak, sending his high-pitched voice to the furthest corners of the hall.

"Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Convention: If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then judge what to do and how to do it. We are now far into the fifth year since a policy was initiated with the avowed object and confident promise of putting an end to slavery agitation. Under operation of that policy, that agitation has not only not ceased but has constantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease until a crisis shall have been reached and passed.

A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half-slave and half-free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved – I do not expect the house to fall – but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the states old as well as new – North as well as South.

Anthony stood outside the entry doors to the hall with Chapel and Dietrich. Lincoln’s voice carried clearly beyond the hall. All three men had copies of the Clarion and followed along as Lincoln spoke.

Damned, I wish he had not said that, Anthony grumbled, grinding his cigar between his teeth.

It sounds like a challenge to us Southerners, said Chapel.

Nonsense, answered Dietrich. It is another milk-and-water statement – the ultimate extinction of slavery, the Union can not endure permanently. Mr. Lincoln’s no Abolitionist, for all his fine talk.

You see, said Anthony, he has managed to challenge slavery supporters without satisfying the real Abolitionists. I told him he would please nobody but himself. But he would have it that way. Mr. Lincoln served only one term in Congress. That was ten years ago and it ended badly. He’s had no office since then, albeit his ambition for office has never waned.

Anthony shook his head. He’s one hell of a lawyer. I don’t know anyone else who could have done what he did earlier this year in the Duff Armstrong murder trial. You gentlemen might want to keep him in mind if you are ever caught dead to rights and expected to hang. Come to think of it, there are many reasons why a reporter might need a good attorney. Years ago I saw him reduce an opponent to tears during a debate, but sometimes… He looked at the two reporters skeptically, like a horse trader evaluating a Mexican plug. Of course, this is not for publication and I know you fellow gentlemen of the press will not quote me on what I am about to say. I count on your discretion and your solemn word.

Chapel and Dietrich nodded and leaned forward.

Sometimes Mr. Lincoln acts like he has some special mission in life. He will not listen to common sense but insists on having things his particular way. Sometimes I don’t know who he thinks he is.

You mean Mr. Lincoln acts like a politician, said Chapel. Dietrich smiled.

I wonder, said Anthony, what Judge Douglas will make of Mr. Lincoln’s speech.

Senator Douglas will not need our advice on what to say in answer to those remarks, Chapel answered, looking around the hall. He made a note about the size and enthusiasm of the crowd.

Senator Douglas wouldn’t listen to me, anyway, said Dietrich. My paper will not support him. He has done well with Democrats in the South, though. Dietrich looked at Chapel, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

I cannot say what my editors will do, said Chapel, looking directly at his colleague. They are curious about Senator Douglas since he is obviously the leading presidential candidate for the Democracy, if he can get past his Republican state challenger, Mr. Lincoln. He may prove acceptable, or he may not.

I first saw Mr. Lincoln, said Anthony, back in the early days when we were both Whigs opposing the Democracy, who were the majority party. When I saw him, I complained that surely the party could do better than to put up a ragged beanstalk. Then he started to speak, and I decided that we had done well. There is something about that man.

Anthony took his cigar out of this mouth and breathed a stream of malodorous smoke. There are reporters starting to come here from all over the United States. Mr. Lincoln versus the great Senator Douglas attracts the attention of the entire country. There are deep issues for the country at stake here.

Perhaps two countries, said Chapel, if disunion is required.

Anthony and Dietrich exchanged looks of uncertainty.

What does Mr. Lincoln say about his opponent? Dietrich asked Anthony.

Mr. Lincoln reminds us that the Nebraska Bill, authored by Judge Douglas, allowed the Border Ruffians to use violence to hang a fraudulent constitution around the neck of the Kansas Territory. I could not agree with him more.

That, sir, you cannot blame on Senator Douglas, snapped Chapel. Senator Douglas did not support the fraud of the Lecompton Constitution of Kansas.

To his credit, said Anthony, tilting his head toward Chapel, the stench of Southern slavery proponents flooding the state and intimidating anti-slavery residents by violence and threats of death offended him, and every other man who believes in democracy. Judge Douglas faced down the president, a member of his own party. I’ll give him that. He and a handful of the Democracy voted with all the members of the Republican Party to reject the fraud. Given a chance for a real election, Kansans voted slavery down.

Violence was also the coin of the Abolitionists, answered Chapel. His look was searing, and he clenched his fists. Reverend Henry Ward Beecher and other Abolitionists sent Sharps rifles to anyone who would oppose slavery. They labeled the crates ‘religious materials.’ They called the rifles ‘Beecher Bibles.’ Abolitionists organized parties of men from other states to go to Kansas and vote as if they were citizens there.

True, admitted Anthony, John Brown and a few other Abolitionists are like madmen. They made Kansas bleed as much as anyone else. Maybe more, but Judge Douglas opened the ball.

Dietrich pointed at Lincoln. I think he’s about to discuss what the Supreme Court ruled in the Dred Scott case.

Lincoln surveyed the men in the hall. He seemed to be talking to each man individually.

"No Negro slave, imported as such from Africa, and no descendant of such slave can ever be a citizen of any state. Neither Congress nor a territorial legislature can exclude slavery from any United States territory. Whether the holding a Negro in actual slavery in a free state makes him free the United States Supreme Court will not decide, but will leave to be decided by the courts of any slave state the Negro may be forced into by the master.

We have another nice little niche, which we may, ere long, see filled with another Supreme Court decision declaring the Constitution of the United States does not permit a state to exclude slavery. We shall lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of Missouri are on the verge of making their state free; and we shall awake to the reality instead that the Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave state.

That’s the hub of the wheel, Anthony pointed at Chapel. All else rotates around it. The Democracy North and South, under the leadership of Judge Douglas, exploded the limits on slavery. Then the Supreme Court spread the debris of slavery to all territories. All states are next.

Slavery has been attacked, answered Chapel, pointing back at Anthony. Southerners, both slave owners and not, have been threatened. Abolitionists from the North denounce us in terms formerly reserved for Satan. They encourage slave revolt, despite the risk. Already rivers of blood rolled through the land. They break the laws to harbor slave fugitives. Our crops need fresh soil to grow, and we have to grow in new territory, else we perish.

Anthony and Chapel turned to face each other. Each man was breathing heavily.

Dietrich stepped between the men.

Mr. Chapel, pleaded Dietrich, please, help me understand. At one time, Southerners headed the movement to end slavery. George Washington freed his slaves in the end. Thomas Jefferson proposed abolishing slavery, in one way or another, a dozen times. When did that movement end?

Chapel’s breathing eased. He looked at Dietrich directly.

It suffered a mortal wound in 1829, sir, said Chapel, when David Walker, a northern Abolitionist, published a pamphlet calling for bloody revolt by the slaves. It died in 1831 along with the slaughtered innocent women and children when Nat Turner and other slaves rampaged across the land.

Then in 1837, added Anthony, John C. Calhoun made the amazing claim that slavery is a positive good for Negroes as well as whites. Mr. Calhoun also sponsored the resolution to disallow all discussion of slavery in the Senate. Is it not strange that such a beneficial institution cannot stand the light of examination and discussion?

The three men fell silent, moved by the distance in thinking between Chapel and the other two. In the silence, Lincoln’s voice could be heard.

Two years ago the Republicans of the nation mustered over 1,300,000 strong. We did this under the single instance of resistance to a common danger, with every external circumstance against us. Of strange, discordant and even hostile elements, we gathered from the four winds and formed and fought the battle, though under the constant hot fire of a disciplined, proud and pampered enemy. Did we brave all then to falter now – now, when that same enemy is wavering, dissevered and belligerent? The result is not doubtful. We shall not fail. If we stand firm, we shall not fail. Wise counsels may accelerate or mistakes delay it, but sooner or later victory is sure to come.

The crowd broke into thunderous cheers and applause. Anthony, Chapel and Dietrich stood silent, each man lost in his own thoughts.

CHAPTER 2

June 16, 1858

Eighth and Jackson Streets, Springfield, Illinois

Shoes and hat in one hand, Lincoln pushed open the door to his house and entered quietly. He had taken only a few steps when Mary Todd Lincoln spotted him and rushed toward him. With her chestnut hair, creamy complexion and bright blue eyes, Mary looked like a young woman. Her figure, although matronly, attracted men’s attentions when she went walking.

You thought you could slip by me, did you? challenged Mary. She stopped in front of her husband.

Not really, answered Lincoln. I thought I’d see how long it took you to notice that I was home. He smiled. As I expected, it did not take long. I like to see you like this, with color in your cheeks and clear eyes.

Enough of your foolishness about an old married woman, she said, obviously pleased but pretending to be stern. Tell me what happened. Don’t leave out a thing. Was the speech well received?

Well enough, I’d say. Lincoln walked to a table and put down his hat and shoes. As much as I’ve wondered these past years when all I could do was stand in the audience and hold the coats of those active in the political fray, it may be that you backed the right horse when you settled on me in favor of Judge Douglas. You still might just end up a United States senator’s wife.

Father, I’ve always told you to look higher, answered Mary. You undervalue yourself. Senator will do for a start. I aspire to be the wife of the president.

Lincoln shook his head and smiled tightly. He and Mary entered the front room and sat down.

I should have listened to you and skipped the state legislature, admitted Lincoln. I had to resign to run for the senate. That delayed my preparation for the campaign. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

Then a member of the Democracy was elected to your former seat, Mary added. The legislature always votes along party lines when electing a senator. Your replacement is one certain vote against you. I know you had to do it, but you put a lot of time and effort into preparing for Duff Armstrong’s trial when you could have been campaigning. Time is short, and you have much to do. I see this canvass as a very close election, one that Judge Douglas has been laboring at for some time.

You were right then, Mother, said Lincoln, and you are right again. It will be a near thing. Judge Douglas will certainly reply to my speech tonight.

He pulled off his mismatched socks. Mary grimaced but said nothing.

I will answer his speech, said Lincoln, and then it’s thrust and parry. He gestured with his socks as if he held a sword.

That should interest the newspapers and the voters, said Mary. They like fuss and feathers of two men contending. Perhaps you could extend that in a debate, or better, a series of debates all around the state.

I wonder if Judge Douglas would accept, replied Lincoln. He is very much better known than I am, being Senator all these years. He has a national reputation. There are many parts of Illinois where they say, ‘Who is this man, Lincoln?’ It would not be to his advantage.

Don’t you think he would fear what the papers might say about a refusal? Mary asked.

He would find it hard to refuse. I will think on that. Yes. For certain, I will think on it.

CHAPTER 3

July 8, 1858

Lincoln and Herndon Law Office, Springfield Illinois

Billy Herndon, tall and bony with a bramble of uncombed hair as dark as India ink, introduced himself to August Dietrich in the hallway outside the Lincoln & Herndon law office.

I have the honor to be Mr. Lincoln’s junior partner. He is engaged at the moment. If you do not mind waiting, I expect he will be free shortly. If there is anything I can do to assist you while you wait, please let me know.

Dietrich said, There is one matter you may be able to help me with.

If I can, sir, I shall.

I must admit, said Dietrich, that I am confused. I do not altogether understand the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision.

Nor do I, said Herndon. Not altogether. I shall endeavor to convey the meat of the matter. He paused for a moment. The legal odyssey started in 1846. Scott brought suit for his freedom in the Circuit Court of St. Louis County, Missouri. His argument was that years of residence, first in a free state and then in a free territory made him a free man. He lost his first trial, but a retrial was granted, and in 1850 the court declared him a free man.

Dietrich said, But if he won…

It was a momentary victory only, alas. His owner, Mrs. Emerson, appealed to the Missouri Supreme Court. In 1852, by a two-to-one vote, the Supreme Court reversed the decision. Admitting it had, in eight other cases, freed slaves who came under the emancipation laws of other states, the court asserted that previous judgments had been made on the basis of uniformity between states, which was optional.

Dietrich said, So the various courts said Scott was a slave, then he was free, then he was a slave again.

Exactly, Herndon said. It shows what a muddle slavery creates in this country. The United States Supreme Court is usually exceedingly reluctant to review the findings of state supreme courts. However, Mrs. Emerson remarried and became a citizen of Massachusetts. Scott was left in St. Louis under the control of her brother, a citizen of New York. That allowed Scott’s attorney to appeal to the federal circuit court in 1853.

I don’t understand, said Dietrich.

Scott’s attorney, explained Herndon, argued that with three different states involved, the proper venue had to be the federal courts. In another legal quagmire, the federal circuit court ruled that Scott might bring suit, but that he was still a slave.

Dietrich looked puzzled.

A slave, said Herndon, does not have the right to bring suit against his master. Scott’s attorney was able to appeal the Missouri Supreme Court decision to the United States Supreme Court. Having reached the United States Supreme Court by a most unlikely trail, the case was finally heard in 1856. Once that court started to trudge through the swamp, the morass only got more confusing. The court had to clarify what questions to decide.

Herndon raised one finger. First, there was the question of whether or not Scott was a citizen of the state of Missouri – if he had the legal standing to bring suit. Remember, if he was a slave, he was not a citizen and could not bring suit. The federal circuit court ruled that he could bring suit, albeit he was a slave. So the Supreme Court was not being asked to rule on that issue.

Dietrich nodded.

Herndon raised a second finger. Second, there was the question of whether or not his residence in a free state and a free territory made him a free man. The court had to decide to rule narrowly – is Scott himself free? – Or to rule broadly. What are the rights, if any, of slaves as a class of persons? Most broadly, the court could decide to rule on the constitutionality of antislavery laws as a class of laws, although that question too was not being asked.

What did the court do? asked Dietrich.

The court moved as slowly as an overworked mule, answered Herndon, hearing and rehearing arguments. Despite the agitation and wrangling in the political world, the court stalled its judgment through the election of a new president, James Buchanan, who is pro-slavery. President-elect Buchanan wrote to Justice Catron about the case. Justice Catron and Justice Grier replied.

Isn’t that unseemly and unethical? demanded Dietrich. Wasn’t the president elect actively conspiring with Supreme Court justices over a case still being heard?

Yes, sir! replied Herndon. "It was political manipulation of the highest court in the land by the president elect, a dastardly act scarcely matched in the annals of infamy.

Two days. Two days after President Buchanan was inaugurated the court finally ruled. Was that a coincidence? I think not. All nine judges wrote individual opinions that vary in nearly every particular. Chief Justice Taney in support of what he said were ‘states rights’ opined that Scott was not and could never be a citizen of the United States since he was born a slave, offspring of slaves. He declared that Negroes were so inferior to whites that they had no rights at all that whites must respect. Taney maintained that the state court would have to decide Scott’s status, since Scott was not a citizen of the nation. He