Showing posts with label Government. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Government. Show all posts

Sunday, September 10, 2023

Lewis and Clark, the Entire Story.

                   Meriwether Lewis                                           William Clark


Prelude: 1803 to May 1804
In 1803, President Thomas Jefferson won approval from Congress for a visionary project that was to become one of American history's greatest adventure stories. 

Jefferson wanted to know if Americans could journey overland to the Pacific Ocean by following two rivers, the Missouri and Columbia Rivers. He knew both rivers flowed from the Rocky Mountains; the Missouri River flows east from the Rockies, and the Columbia River flows west to the Pacific Ocean.

If the sources of the rivers were near one another, Jefferson reasoned that American traders could use that route to compete with British fur companies pressing southward from Canada.

On February 28, 1803, Congress appropriated funds for a small U.S. Army unit to explore the Missouri and Columbia Rivers. The explorers were to make detailed reports on the land's geography, climate, plants, and animals, as well as to study the customs and languages of the Indians. Plans for the Expedition were almost complete when the President learned that France had offered to sell all Louisiana Territory to the United States. This transfer, which was completed within a year, doubled the area of the United States. It meant that Jefferson's army Expedition could travel to the crest of the Rockies on American soil, no longer needing permission from the former French owners.

Jefferson selected an Army captain, 28-year-old Meriwether Lewis, as the Expedition's leader. The Jeffersons and Lewises had been neighbors near Charlottesville, Virginia, where Lewis was born on August 18, 1774. As a boy, he had spent time in the woods, acquiring a remarkable knowledge of native plants and animals. In 1794, he served in the Virginia Militia when President Washington called it out to quell the Whiskey Rebellion. Lewis had a successful army career when, in 1801, the newly elected Jefferson summoned him to work as his private Secretary in the "President's House."

Lewis chose a former Army comrade, 32-year-old William Clark, to co-leader the Expedition. Clark was born on August 1, 1770, in Caroline County, Virginia. At 14, his family moved to Kentucky, where they were among the earliest settlers. William Clark was the youngest brother of General George Rogers Clark, a hero of the Revolutionary War. William served under General "Mad Anthony" Wayne during the Indian wars in the Northwest Territory.
Lewis prepared for the Expedition and visited President Jefferson's scientific associates in Philadelphia for natural sciences, astronomical navigation, and field medicine instruction. He was also given a list of questions about their daily lives to ask the American Indians that they would meet. During these preparations, Lewis purchased "Seaman," his pure-breed Newfoundland dog, to accompany him to the Pacific for $20 ($520 today).
Camp River Dubois, the Lewis and Clark State Historic Site, Hartford, Illinois.


Lewis and Clark reached their staging point at the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers near St. Louis in December 1803. They camped through the winter at the mouth of Wood River on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River and the confluence of the Missouri River. The two captains recruited young woodsmen and enlisted soldiers who volunteered from nearby army outposts. Over the winter, final selections were made of proven men. The Expedition's roster comprised approximately 45 people in the spring, including some military personnel and local boatmen who would go partway up the Missouri River with the Expedition. Lewis recorded that the mouth of Wood River was "to be considered the point of departure" for the westward journey.
Camp River Dubois State Historic Site, Hartford, Illinois.



Lower Missouri: May 1804 to April 1805
The Expedition broke camp on May 14, 1804. Clark wrote in his journal: "I set out at 4 o'clock P.M and proceeded on under a gentle breeze up the Missouri River." The party traveled in a 55-foot-long keelboat and two smaller boats called "pirogues." Through the long, hot summer, they laboriously worked their way upriver. Numerous navigational hazards slowed their progress, including sunken trees called "sawyers," sand bars, collapsing river banks, and sudden squalls of high winds with drenching rains. There were other problems, including disciplinary floggings, two desertions, a man dishonorably discharged for mutiny, and the death of Sgt. Charles Floyd was the only member to die during the Expedition. In modern-day South Dakota, a band of Teton Sioux tried to detain the boats, but the explorers showed their superior armaments and sailed on.

Early in November, they came to the villages of the Mandan and Minitari (Hidatsa) Indians, who lived near present-day Washburn, North Dakota. On the north bank of the Missouri River, they found a grove of thick cottonwood trees to construct a log fort. Standing close together, the trees also offered protection from the prairie winds.

In four weeks of hard work, the men built a triangular-shaped fort. Rows of small huts made up two sides; a wall of upright cottonwood logs formed the front. They named it Fort Mandan in honor of the local inhabitants. The party was now 164 days and approximately 1,510 miles from Wood River.

The explorers spent five months at Fort Mandan, hunting and obtaining information about the route ahead from the Indians and French-Canadian traders who lived nearby. The Expedition's blacksmiths set up a forge and made tools and implements, traded for the American Indian's garden crops of corn, melons, and beans. A French-Canadian named Toussaint Charbonneau visited the captains with his young pregnant Shoshone wife, Sacagawea.

Sacagawea's tribal homeland lay in the Rocky Mountain country, far to the west. She had been kidnapped by plains Indians five years before, when she was about twelve years old, and taken to the villages of the Mandan and Minitari, where she was eventually sold to Charbonneau. Sacagawea spoke both Shoshone and Minitari, and the captains realized that she could be a valuable intermediary if the party encountered the Shoshones. They also knew that she and Charbonneau could be helpful in trading for the horses that would be needed to cross the western mountains. In addition, Sacagawea and her baby would prove to be a token of truce, assuring the Indians that the Expedition was peaceful. While descending the Columbia River, Clark later noted, "No woman ever accompanies a war party of Indians in this quarter." As a result, the captains hired Charbonneau, who was joined by Sacagawea and their infant son Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, born at Fort Mandan on February 11, 1805. The boy became a favorite of Clark, whom he nicknamed "Pomp," citing his pompous "little dancing boy" antics.

Upper Missouri: April 1805 to July 1805
Moving up the river from the Mandan villages, they passed the confluence of the Yellowstone with the Missouri River. They entered a country where Lewis observed "immense herds of Buffaloes, Elk, Deer and Antelopes feeding in one common and boundless pasture." Grizzly Bears charged the men hunting them.

Lewis said he would "rather fight two Indians than one bear." River navigation became more difficult. During a fierce windstorm, the pirogue that carried vital records and instruments filled with water and nearly capsized. Sacagawea, who was aboard, saved many items as they floated within her reach. Near the end of May, the Rocky Mountains came into view.

The river's current grew stronger. The explorers had to abandon the paddles and tow the heavy canoes with rawhide ropes while walking along the shoreline. When river banks gave way to cliffs, the men had to wade in the water, pushing and pulling the boats upstream.

In early June, the explorers reached a point where the Missouri River divided equally into northerly and southerly branches. They spent nine days concluding that the south branch was the true Missouri. Lewis named the "Marias River" north fork and scouted ahead with a small advance party following the south fork until he heard waterfalls. The Indians at Fort Mandan had told them about the falls of the Missouri River, so Lewis knew he was on the right stream.

In the vicinity of present-day Great Falls, Montana, the Expedition had to portage 18 miles around a series of five cascades of the Missouri River. The men attached cottonwood wheels to the canoes to push them overland. The weather was hot, with intermittent squalls pelting the party with large, bruising hailstones.

Transporting the heavy boats and baggage up the steep incline from the river and traversing the long stretch of prairie lands was exhausting. Prickly pear spines penetrated their feet through moccasin soles, adding to the difficult and exhausting portage.

After three weeks of shuttling canoes and baggage along this portage, a camp was established above the falls at "White Bear Island." They had brought along a metal framework over which they stretched hides to make a large, light boat to resume their journey on the river. The plan failed when stitches in the hides leaked water, and they had to abandon the framework and make two more cottonwood canoes.

West of the Divide: July 1805 to November 1805
On July 25, the Expedition arrived, where the Missouri River was divided into three forks. They named the southeast branch the "Gallatin" for the Secretary of the Treasury, and the southerly one was called the "Madison" for the Secretary of State. The westerly branch became the "Jefferson" River, "in honor of that illustrious personage Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States."

Because it flowed from the west, the captains decided to follow the Jefferson River. Learning from Sacagawea that they were now within the traditional food-gathering lands of her people, Lewis went ahead to look for the Shoshones. He reached a spring in the mountains in mid-August, which he called "the most distant fountain" of the Missouri River. Just beyond was a saddle in a high ridge (today's Lemhi Pass), from which Lewis saw towering, snow-covered mountains to the west. A brook at his feet ran westward, and he knew he had crossed the Continental Divide. The brook was one of many tributary streams of today's Snake River, joining the Columbia River.

Immediately west of the Continental Divide, Lewis came upon two Shoshone women and a girl digging edible roots. Lewis gave them presents, and soon, they were joined by a large number of Shoshone men on horseback. Lewis rejoined Clark and the main party, returning from this scouting trip accompanied by several Shoshones. The explorers formed a camp with the Indians a few miles south of present-day Dillon, Montana, called "Camp Fortunate." Here, Sacagawea found a childhood girlfriend. The girl had been with Sacagawea when both were captured but had escaped and returned to her people. Sacagawea learned that her brother, Cameahwait, was now chief of the tribe. It was an emotional scene when brother and sister were reunited.

Thinking ahead to their return journey, Captain Lewis ordered the canoes submerged to "guard against both the effects of high water and that of fire the Indians promised to do them no intentional injury." The party then proceeded across the Continental Divide to the main village of the Shoshones. With Sacagawea providing vital service as an interpreter, a Shoshone guide was hired, and trading with the Indians for riding and pack horses was successful. After a short stay, the now horse-mounted corps followed their guide, Old Toby, into the "formidable mountains."

September found the half-starved explorers surviving on horse meat while following the Lolo Trail's ancient Indian route across the Bitterroot Mountains in modern Montana and Idaho. During an early-season snowstorm, they encountered fallen timber, bone-chilling cold, and slippery, hazardous travel. Descending the west slope of the mountains, they reached a village of the Nez Perce.

Here, the natives provided a salmon, roots, and berries feast. The ravenous explorers found, to their dismay, that this unaccustomed diet made them extremely ill.

The group reached today's Clearwater River, where they branded and left their horses in the care of the Nez Perce until their return. They built new canoes and proceeded through boulder-strewn rapids, making speedy but risky progress. They reached the Snake River and then the Columbia River on October 16. They floated down that mighty river reaching the now inundated "Great Falls of the Columbia" (Celilo Falls) near the modern Oregon town of The Dalles. Here, and also when confronted by the raging rapids within the Cascade Mountains that Clark called the "Great Shute," they again were forced into toilsome portages.

On November 2, they drifted into the quiet upper reaches of tidewater on the Columbia. On November 7, Clark wrote: "Great joy in camp we are in view of the Ocean, this great Pacific Ocean which we have been so long anxious to see." They were still 25 miles upstream and saw the storm-lashed waves of the river's broad estuary.

For the next nine days, savage winds blew, ocean swells rolled into the river, and the rain poured down, stranding them in unprotected camps just above the tide at the base of cliffs. In mid-November, the captains finally strode upon the sands of the Pacific Ocean near the Columbia's mouth, the western objective of their journey. Clark recorded that 554 days had elapsed, and 4,132 miles had been traveled since leaving Wood River.

Pacific Ocean: November 1805 to March 1806
Captain Lewis carried a letter of credit signed by Jefferson, guaranteeing payment for the explorers' return by sea via any American or foreign merchant ship encountered in the Columbia River estuary. They saw no ships upon reaching the ocean, nor as their records reveal, would any enter the turbulent river entrance during their four-month stay at the coast. In truth, the captains never seriously intended to return by sea, preferring to establish a camp close to the coast instead. They hoped to obtain from trading ships "a fresh Supply of Indian trinkets to purchase provisions on our return home."

Due to the absence of game and their unprotected exposure to fierce winter storms on the Columbia (Washington State) north shore, the party crossed the river to the south side (Oregon), where Indians informed them elk and deer were numerous. An actual vote of the members was recorded, representing the first American democratically held election west of the Rockies that included the vote of a woman, Sacagawea, and a Negro-American man, York.

Crossing the river, they built their 1805-06 winter quarters on a protected site five miles south of modern Astoria, Oregon, naming it Fort Clatsop for their neighbors, the Clatsop Indians. The men spent the winter hunting elk for food and making elk skin clothing and moccasins to replace their worn buckskins.

Lewis filled his journal with descriptions of plants, birds, mammals, fish, and amphibians, weather data, and detailed information on Indian cultures. Clark drew illustrations of many animals and plants and brought his maps of the journey up to date. Sacagawea joined Clark and a few men on a coast trip to procure oil and blubber from a "monstrous fish," a whale washed up on the beach. They visited the Expedition's salt-making camp at present-day Seaside, Oregon, where several men kept a continuous fire burning for nearly a month, boiling seawater, to produce twenty gallons of salt.

Return Journey: March 1806 to September 1806
On March 23, 1806, the explorers started back up the Columbia in newly acquired Indian canoes. At the Great Falls of the Columbia River, they bartered with local Indians for pack horses and set out up the river's north shore on foot. The party obtained riding horses from various tribes along the way and reached the Nez Perce villages in May. While camped among the Nez Perce for a month, waiting for the high mountain snows to melt, the captains gave frontier medical treatment to sick and injured Indians in exchange for native foods.

The Nez Perce rounded up the Expedition's horses that they had cared for over the winter, easing the captains' concern for adequate transportation as the party resumed its eastward travel in early June. Retracing their outbound trail through the Bitterroots, they were turned back by impassable snowdrifts and made their only "retrograde march" of the entire journey. After a week's delay, they started out again and successfully crossed the mountains. On June 30, they arrived at their outbound "Travelers Rest" camp, eleven miles south of modern Missoula, Montana, where they enjoyed a welcome rest from their toils.

On July 3, 1806, the party separated. With nine men, Lewis rode directly east to the Great Falls of the Missouri River. Then, with three men, he traveled north to explore the Marias River almost to the present Canadian border. Lewis and his companions camped overnight with some Blackfeet Indians, who attempted to steal the explorers' guns and drive off their horses at daylight. In describing the ensuing skirmish, Lewis related that he was fired upon by an Indian, which resulted in a near-miss that "I felt the wind of the bullet very distinctly." Lewis afterward would elaborate that two of the Blackfeet were killed during the brief encounter but that he and his companions miraculously escaped unharmed.

Meanwhile, with the balance of the party, Clark proceeded southeasterly on horseback, crossing the Rockies through today's Gibbons Pass. Returning to the Jefferson River (now the Beaverhead River in its upper reach), the submerged canoes were recovered and repaired. Clark placed some men in charge of the canoes while the others continued on with the horses, all following the river downstream to the Three Forks junction of the Missouri River.

Here, the group is divided. The canoe travelers continued down the Missouri River to White Bear Island, where they recovered their cached equipment and portaged back around the falls. With the remainder, Clark rode their horses easterly to explore the Yellowstone River. While the Expedition was again passing through the Shoshone lands, Sacagawea remembered from her childhood, Clark praised her "great service to me as a pilot."

Upon reaching Yellowstone, new canoes were made. Clark assigned three men to drive the horses overland while he and the others drifted down the river. On July 25, 1806, Clark named an unusual rock formation on the south bank of the Yellowstone River (Montana) "Pompy's Tower" in honor of Sacagawea's son.

The parties were reunited on August 12 near the confluence of the Yellowstone and the Missouri rivers. Here, Clark learned that Lewis had been shot while searching for game in the brushy shoreline of the Missouri River. In his buckskin clothing, Captain Lewis was mistaken for an elk by Pierre Cruzatte. Clark treated and dressed the wound with medicines they carried.

Arriving at the Mandan villages on August 17, the Charbonneau family was mustered out of the Expedition. At his request, Private John Colter was discharged to join a fur trapping party bound up the Missouri River. The remainder of the party, accompanied by a Mandan chief and his family, headed down the Missouri River on the last leg of the homeward journey.

After September 23, 1806
On September 23, 1806, the tattered Corps of Discovery arrived at St. Louis and "received a hearty welcome from its inhabitants." Jefferson's explorers had covered 8,000 miles of territory over 2 years, 4 months, and 9 days. Its records contributed important information concerning the land, natural resources, and native peoples. Lewis and Clark learned that the surprising width of the Rocky Mountains chain destroyed Jefferson's hoped-for route between the Missouri and Columbia River systems. This finding resulted in a passage over what is now South Pass (Wyoming) during later trips westward by fur traders and other explorers. Despite difficulties, Lewis and Clark remained friends after the Expedition. Congress rewarded the officers and men of the military enterprise, including Toussaint Charbonneau, with land grants. Neither Sacagawea nor York received compensation for their services.

On February 28, 1807, President Jefferson picked Lewis as Governor of the Upper Louisiana Territory. His career started well, but controversy involving government finances arose in 1809, culminating with his decision to travel to Washington, D.C., to resolve the dispute. Traveling through Tennessee, Governor Meriwether Lewis, on October 11, 1809, died mysteriously from gunshot wounds inflicted while at Grinder's Stand, a public roadhouse. It is not known conclusively whether he was murdered or committed suicide. His grave lies where he died, within today's Natchez Trace National Parkway near Hohenwald, Tennessee.

Clark enjoyed a lifelong, honorable career in public service in St. Louis. On March 12, 1807, Jefferson commissioned him Brigadier General of Militia and Indian Agent for Upper Louisiana Territory. In 1813, he was appointed Governor of Missouri Territory, which he held until Missouri Statehood in 1820. In 1822, he was appointed Superintendent of Indian Affairs by President Monroe. He was reappointed to this post by each succeeding President and served in this capacity for the remainder of his life. General William Clark died of natural causes in St. Louis on September 1, 1838, and is buried in the Clark Family plot at Bellefontaine Cemetery, St. Louis. 


Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Saturday, August 19, 2023

Comparative Cost of Macadamizing (Explained) and Planking the Streets of Chicago.

Since the experiment of macadamizing [1] (aka McAdamize) the streets of our city has been instituted, a great deal of discussion has been had as to the comparative cost and cheapness of this kind of roadbed over the planking in such general use, and articles, pro and con, upon this subject, have found their way into the newspapers.

Some time ago, the City Council ordered Harrison Street to be macadamizing. A number of property holders on that street, whose property was assessed to pay for the improvement, petitioned the Council to have the street planked instead, for the reason, as they alleged, that the latter road bed is cheaper than the former and, the street not being a prominent thoroughfare, quite as useful. The petition was referred to Mr. N.S. Bonton, City Superintendent, with instructions to report to the Council the comparative cost of both planking and macadamizing. 
South Water Street, Chicago, in the 1860s


The cost comparison is between planking one mile of the street, with the necessary filling to raise the street to an equal height with fourteen inches of macadamizing.

The annexed estimates show the cost for planking twelve, sixteen and twenty-four feet wide, with three-inch oak plank; also, the cost of macadamizing one mile the same width.

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May 12, 1857, Chicago Tribune:  Canal Street was ordered to be Macadamized from Van Buren Street to Old (18th) Street.



Chicago, August 22, 1857.
To plank one mile of street twenty-four feet wide with a three-inch oak plank, spiked with a wrought iron spike to seven, four by six inch, oak stringers, adding sufficient earth to fill up equal to eleven inches and twenty-eight feet in width:
    • Totaled $16,885 ($593,300 today).
For planking one mile of street sixteen feet wide with a three-inch oak plank, spiked with a wrought iron spike to five oak stringers, four by six inches, adding sufficient earth to fill up to eleven inches high and twenty feet wide:
    • Totaled $11,703 ($411,200 today).
For planking one mile of street twelve feet wide with a three-inch oak plank, spiked with a wrought iron spike to four oak stringers, four by six inches, adding sufficient earth to fill up to eleven inches high and sixteen feet wide:
    • Totaled $9,201 ($323,300 today)
Estimate of cost of macadamizing one mile of the street, one course of stone broken to four-inch maximum diameter, eight inches deep, and covered with one course of stone, broken to two and one-quarter inches maximum diameter, six inches deep, also to grade the road-bed so as to make a suitable face for the stone:
    • Twenty-Four Feet Wide; $15,644 ($549,681 today)
    • Sixteen Feet Wide; $10,516 ($369,500 today)
    • Twelve Feet Wide; $8,008 ($281,375 today)
We are informed by the Superintendent that the estimates for macadamizing are made at what it would cost the city to do the work-by-day labor but that it is probable the same work could be contracted for at nearly a thousand dollars less per mile. 

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September 8, 1859, Chicago Tribune:  A request to the Horse Railway Company to make sure that their road is well [water] sprinkled, particularly on the Macadamized part where the dust is already insufferable.

These estimates, it must be remembered in forming an opinion as to the best mode of making a roadbed, are for the first cost of the work and have no reference to the expense of keeping it in good order, which is quite as important a consideration as the other. It is to be regretted that the report of the Superintendent does not contain at least some approximate estimates upon this point. It would be scarcely satisfactory to those who we pay for street improvements to tell them that this or that method is the cheapest at the outset than any other when in fact, at the expiration of five to ten years, it may be found the most expensive, owing to the cost of repairs necessary to keep the street in passable condition. The public will be far more capable of forming a correct judgment as to the comparative value of the two kinds of improvement when it is furnished with at least an approximate estimate of the cost of keeping each one in good repair. In the absence of any such estimates, the controversy between the advocates of planking and macadamizing will probably be continued with unabated pertinacity.

There are some objections to macadamizing which are entitled to the serious consideration of our readers, the most important of which, so far as comfort and health are concerned, is dust. All experience shows that macadamized roads, by the time they are worn down to a comfortable smoothness, are covered with fine dust, which is not only excessively disagreeable but most injurious to eyes and lungs. This dust is constantly accumulating by attrition until the whole material of which the road is composed is either ground up or sunk beneath the surface of the earth. Macadamize Harrison or any other street, and it will share the fate of all other macadamized roads; either the atmosphere will be constantly filled with minute particles of pulverized stone, or the street, from being well watered, covered with stone paste, if it may be so called, from one to six inches deep. How much consideration may be given to this drawback is somewhat uncertain when it is remembered that, to a far greater extent than it should, the question of immediate cheapness controls the public decision as to the method to be chosen. The Superintendent has decided that macadamizing is the least expensive at the start, and with many persons, this is quite sufficient to determine the matter.

A word as to the much abused planking. Some of our citizens may recollect the planking put down many years ago on Lake Street, between State and Dearborn Streets. If we remember rightly, the planks were four inches thick, having been made by ripping eight-inch square timber. After it had been in place some seven years, it was taken up to lay a gas pipe for some analogous purpose. A friend who was passing as the time assures us that he examined the planks, then temporarily removed them, saw them sawed across and that they were not at all decayed. The only loss they appeared to have sustained was from the mechanical attrition of the wheels and horses' feet which had passed over them, and that was inconsiderable. The material seemed to be perfectly good for three more years of service.

It deserved to be carefully considered whether substantial planking of this character will not require fewer repairs than macadamizing, especially if laid upon a well-drained roadbed of sand or gravel.  We think such a planking, thoroughly laid down, would be good for ten years at least. A great deal of the planking heretofore done has been so imperfectly executed that is has, we think, produced a wrong impression as to the usefulness and durability of that mode of covering streets.

The estimates of the Superintendent are satisfactory so far as they go. Still, we trust that that officer, or some other person possessing the necessary data, will furnish the public with the cost per mile of the kind of planking we have indicated, and also a comparative estimate of the durability, cost of repairs, etc., of such planking and macadamizing. The subject is one of great importance, and now, at the very onset, it is best that the public should be supplied with all possible information relative to this substitution of macadamizing for planking the street of minor importance, for they take it for granted that the principal thoroughfares will be covered with much better material than either of them.


Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.



[1] What is a "Macadamized" Street?
A macadamized street is a road that is made of crushed stone that is compacted into layers. The name comes from the Scottish engineer John Loudon McAdam, who invented the process in the early 19th century.

Macadamized roads are characterized by their durability and ability to withstand heavy traffic. They are also relatively inexpensive to construct and maintain.

The basic principle of macadamization is to use crushed stone of different sizes to create a roadbed that is both strong and porous. The largest stones are placed at the bottom, followed by smaller stones and then a layer of fine gravel. The stones are compacted using rollers or tamping machines, which helps to create a smooth, even surface.

In some cases, a binder material, such as asphalt or tar, may be added to the macadam to help bind the stones together and prevent them from shifting. However, McAdam originally designed his roads to be unbound, relying on the weight of traffic to compact the stones and create a stable surface.

Macadamized roads were first introduced in the United States in the early 1820s and quickly became the standard for road construction. They were used to build many of the major highways and roads in the country, and they continue to be used today in some areas.

Advantages of macadamized streets: Durable and can withstand heavy traffic, Drains well, preventing mud, relatively inexpensive to construct, and can be used in a variety of climates.

Disadvantages of macadamized streets: They can be noisy, dusty, slippery in wet weather, and requires regular maintenance.

Monday, August 14, 2023

Chicago Finally has a Fire Alarm Bell; City Ordinance Passed July 1855.

In February 1855, a deep-toned bell was installed in the new Courthouse.

The July 1855 ordinance passed, dividing the City into six fire districts. An alarm-sounding code was initiated:

Mr. Holden, from the Committee on Fire and Water, made a report in regard to a system of Fire Alarms. The South, West and North Divisions are numbered 1, 2, and 3. The city is divided into 6 districts.
  • One tap, followed by nine more taps, calls the firemen to district № 1.
  • Three taps, followed by nine other taps, calls them to district № 3.
  • Six taps, followed by nine other taps, calls them to district № 6.
  • Six strokes of the bell calls out that part of the fire department which is located in the district in which the fire breaks out, thus:
  • One tap followed by six others, Division № 1 to District № 1.
  • 2-6, calls Division № 1 to District № 2.
  • 3-6, calls Division № 2 to District № 3.
  • 4-6, calls Division № 2 to District № 4.
  • 5-6, calls Division № 3 to District № 5.
  • 6-6, calls Division № 3 to District № 6.
  • The Courthouse bell is also to designate the hours of 7, 12, 1, 6, and 9 o'clock by two taps an indefinite number of times.
  • The report was laid on the table and ordered to be printed.
A watchman was continually on duty in the tower. Besides ringing the bell, the watchman was responsible for handing out flags by day and lanterns by night, used to direct firefighters to the fire scene. There was no gas in those days, so torch boys ran ahead of the engine to light the way. When an alarm was rung at night, citizens were responsible for placing lighted candles in their windows, lighting the way for the firefighters.
The "Long John" steam fire engine tested in February 1858 was met with hostility from the volunteer firemen. The volunteers could sense this was the beginning of their extinction. The steam engine "Long John" was put into service on May 1, 1858, at the corner of Adams and Franklin Street. 
This Daguerreotype photograph was taken on July 4, 1855. The third floor and dome were not added to the Courthouse until 1858. The basement was above ground.


Firefighters of the volunteer hose companies and two paid members, the engineer and assistant engineer, manned the "Long John." The death knell of the volunteer fire department was rung on August 2, 1858, when the city council passed the ordinance organizing the paid City of Chicago Fire Department. The first completely paid company was Engine Company № 3, located at 225 South Michigan Boulevard. This company was one of fifteen engines and three hook and ladder companies acquired from the volunteer department. 
Courthouse in 1858.


ADDITIONAL ARTICLES:

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Tuesday, August 8, 2023

World's First Nuclear Reactor at the University of Chicago.

THE BEGINNING
Construction of CP-1, or Chicago Pile Number One, was constructed under the University of Chicago's Stagg Field football stadium (1893–1957) in an abandoned squash court. Mankind first harnessed the energy of the atom on December 2, 1942. Fermi's pile produced only ½ watts of power. It constantly emits radiation.

Envisioned by famous physicist Enrico Fermi, CP-1 was a crude, ugly contraption of 330 tons of graphite bricks surrounding 5 tons of unrefined uranium metal. It had no shielding to protect the scientists operating it, but it was nonetheless a major breakthrough in developing nuclear weapons. Fermi successfully achieved a controlled atomic chain reaction.

Despite its crudeness, CP-1 was a major breakthrough in nuclear science. It showed that it was possible to produce a controlled nuclear chain reaction and paved the way for developing atomic weapons and nuclear power plants.

As the use of CP-1 improved, concern for the safety of its operators (and the thousands of nearby students) promoted a move a few miles to the west to the Cook County Forest Preserves, Lemont, Illinois, named 'Site A.'
Chicago Pile Number One or CP-1












The scientists dismantled CP-1, moved it to Site A, and reassembled it into a cube about 25 feet high and 30 feet on each base. This time, Fermi added a few safety elements. Five-foot concrete walls surrounded its sides. Six inches of lead and 50 inches of lumber acted as a lid.

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Site A is about 20 acres in size and contains the buried remains of Chicago Pile-1.
Plot M is 150x140 foot (21K sq. ft.) area that is the radioactive waste dumpsite.

This redesigned reactor was named Chicago Pile-2 (CP-2). It was still a crude device but much safer than CP-1. CP-2 was used for research on nuclear weapons and other applications of atomic energy.

A year later, CP-3 joined CP-2. CP-3 was a more advanced reactor that used heavy water (H³O+) instead of graphite to slow nuclear reactions. CP-3 was used for research on nuclear power plants.
"World's First Nuclear Reactor," followed by a summarized history of Argonne. Photo: Forest Preserves of Cook County, IL.


For a decade, scientists conducted hundreds of experiments using these primitive reactors. The experiments ranged from nuclear weapons to biomedical research to sustained atomic energy.

The work at Site A and Argonne National Laboratory (which grew out of the Metallurgical Laboratory at the University of Chicago) laid the foundation for the development of nuclear science and technology. 

The two reactors, CP-2 and CP-3, were shut down in 1954. The most radioactive and dangerous elements of the reactors were disposed of by the Oak Ridge Laboratory in Tennessee. 
U.S. Department of Energy, 1974.


The reactor was buried in 1954 an extremely deep hole, and the surrounding area was designated as a radioactive waste dumpsite.

In the 1940s and 50s, visitors to the Red Gate Woods often encountered well-armed military police. The MPs would question the confused strangers, check IDs, and search pockets. Then without an apology or explanation, the confused visitors would be ordered firmly to leave the area and not return.
RED GATE WOODS


In the early 1980s, amid the nuclear disasters at Three Mile Island and Chornobyl, the City of Chicago asked Greenpeace surveyors to test the burial grounds at Site A. The surveyors were horrified to find islands of radioactive elements dotting the Site. The City requested help from the federal government, but their request was denied. However, when the information about the radioactive contamination went public, there was an outcry from the community. People who had spent years strolling, picnicking, and riding horseback in the woods near Site A were outraged to learn that they had been exposed to dangerous radiation. 

The federal government eventually gave the City $30 million to fence off, analyze, and decontaminate the Site. A decade later, their efforts transformed Site A into a safe, recreational area where people can enjoy the outdoors without fear of radiation exposure. However, the Site is still monitored annually for radiation levels. 

The Legacy of Site A and Plot M is foremost a reminder of the early days of the nuclear age. It's a testament to the ingenuity of the scientists who developed the world's first atomic reactor. And most importantly, reminds us of the dangers of nuclear technology.

PUBLIC OUTCRY
In 1976, the public learned there was radioactive material in Red Gate Woods (Site A). The United States Department of Energy (DOE) released a report that found low levels of tritium in three wells in the area. Tritium is a radioactive isotope of hydrogen that is produced by nuclear reactors. The DOE concluded that the tritium likely came from Site A, which had been used for atomic research during World War II.

The DOE's report sparked a public outcry. The Illinois Department of Public Health (IDPH) conducted its own investigation and found that the wells' tritium levels were elevated but posed no immediate health risk to the public. However, the IDPH recommended that the DOE take steps to further study and clean up the Site.

The DOE continued to study Site A in the years that followed. In 1994, the DOE and the Argonne National Laboratory (ANL) began a significant cleanup effort at the Site. As part of the cleanup, 500 cubic yards (135 tons) of radioactive waste was removed and sent to the Hanford Site for disposal. By 2002, the IDPH had determined that the remaining materials posed no danger to public health.

Today, Site A is a fenced-off area within Red Gate Woods. There are signs in the parking lot that warn visitors about the radioactive material on the Site. However, the IDPH has determined that it is safe for people to visit the area as long as they stay on the trails, do not disturb the soil, and, most importantly, DO NOT DIG.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Monday, August 7, 2023

World's Fair Columbian United States Silver 1892 and 1893 Half Dollar Coins.

The Columbian half dollar was the first commemorative coin issued by the United States. It was struck in 1892 and 1893 to raise funds for the World's Columbian Exposition and to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus' arrival in the Americas in 1492. 
Columbus' portrait is on the obverse.
A depiction of the Santa Maria on the reverse.
It is the first American coin to depict a historical figure.

About 4 million half dollars were struck with the 1892 date. On January 1, 1893, the half-dollar year was changed. A total of 5,002,105 Columbian half dollars were struck.
A national campaign advertised in 100s of newspapers.
Approximately half the coins were released into circulation and used into the 1950s. Only about 400,000 uncirculated coins were sold as souvenirs for $1.00. Far less than anticipated. Proof-grade coins were premium prices.

Today (2023), the highest quality coin appraises around $10,000. The remaining coins were melted for other coin blanks. Circulated Columbian half dollars can be purchased online for less than $20.00.
The 1892 replica of the Santa María (initially the La Gallega)


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The Santa María was armed with several cannons and carried a complement of 40 men. Armed with 4 × 90 mm bombards and 50 mm culebrinas. The hull length was 62 feet and a 41 foot keel length with three masts. Christopher Columbus sailed the Santa María with the Santa Clara (The Girl) and the La Pinta (The Painted) on his first voyage to the Americas in 1492.

Copyright © 2023, Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Saturday, August 5, 2023

Religious Expressions In Lincoln's Letters.

Lincoln's religious views have been the subject of much discussion. The following excerpts from letters signed by Lincoln himself are presented chronologically so that any evolution in his religious thinking can be more easily observed.


In his early years, Lincoln was skeptical of religion. He once wrote, "I am not a member of any Christian Church, but I have never denied the truth of the Scriptures." However, his views appear to have evolved over time. In later years, he spoke more often about God and his faith in Providence. He also attended church services with his family.



September 27, 1841
Miss Mary Speed:
Tell your mother that I have not got her present, an Oxford Bible, with me but I intend to read it regularly when I return home. I doubt not that it is really, as she says, the best cure for the blues, could one but take it according to the truth.



July 4, 1842
Mr. Joshua Speed:
I was always superstitious; I believe God made me one of the instruments of bringing your Fanny and you together, which union I have no doubt he had fore-ordained. Whatever he designs, he will do for me yet. "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord" is my text just now.



January 12, 1851
John E. Johnston:
If it be his (Thomas Lincoln's) lot to go now, he will soon have a joyous meeting with many loved ones gone before and where the rest of us, through the help of God, hope to join them.



August 15, 1855
Hon. George Robertson:
Our political problem now is "Can we as a nation continue together permanently—forever—half slave and half free?" The problem is too mighty for me—may God, in His mercy, superintend the solution.



May 25, 1861
To the Father and Mother of Col. Elmer E. Elsworth: 
May God give you that consolation which is beyond all earthly power.



February 4, 1862
Nathaniel Gordon:
In granting this respite, it becomes my painful duty to admonish the prisoner that, relinquishing all expectation of pardon by human authority, he refers himself alone to the mercy of the common God and Father of all men.



May 15, 1862
Revs. T. A. Gere, A. A. Reese, G. E. Chenoweth:
By the help of an all-wise Providence, I shall endeavor to do my duty, and I shall expect the continuance of your prayers for a right solution of our national difficulty.



July 26, 1862
Hon. Reverdy Johnson:
I am a patient man—always willing to forgive on the Christian's terms of repentance and also to give ample time for repentance.



January 6, 1863
Caleb Russell and Sallie A. Finton:
I am upheld and sustained by the good wishes and prayers of God's people. No one is more deeply than myself aware that without His favor, our highest wisdom is but as foolishness and that our most strenuous efforts would avail nothing in the shadow of His displeasure.

I am conscious of no desire for my country's welfare that is not in consonance with His will and of no plan upon which we may not ask His blessing. It seems to me that if there be one subject on which all good men may unitedly agree, it is imploring the gracious favor of the God of nations upon the struggles our people are making for the preservation of their precious birthright of civil and religious liberty.



February 22, 1863
Rev. Alexander Reeve:
The birthday of Washington and a Christian Sabbath coinciding this year and suggesting together the highest interest of this life and of that to come is most propitious for the meeting proposed. 



April 4, 1864
A. E. Hodges, Esq.:
If God now wills the removal of a great wrong and wills also that we of the North, as well as you of the South, shall pay sorely for our complicity in that wrong, impartial history will find therein new cause to attest and revere the judgment and goodness of God.



April 5, 1864
Mrs. Horace Mann:
While I have not the power to grant all they ask, I trust they will remember that God has and that, as it seems, He wills to do it.



May 30, 1864
Rev. Dr. Ide, Hon. J.R. Doolittle, Hon A. Hubbell, Committee:
I can only thank you for thus adding to the effective and almost unanimous support which the Christian communities are so zealously giving to the country and to liberty. Indeed, it is difficult to conceive how it could be otherwise, with anyone professing Christianity or even having an ordinary conception of right and wrong. We read the Bible, as the word of God, Himself, that "In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread," and to preach therefrom that "In the sweat of other men's faces shalt thou eat bread" to my mind can scarcely be reconciled with honest sincerity.



September 4, 1864
Eliza P. Gurney: 
I have not forgotten and probably never shall forget the very impressive occasion when yourself and friends visited me on a Sabbath forenoon two years ago, nor has your kind letter, written nearly a year later, ever been forgotten. In all, it has been your purpose to strengthen my reliance on God. I am much indebted to the good Christian people of the country for their constant prayers and consolations and to no one of them more than to yourself. The purposes of the Almighty are perfect and must prevail, though we erring mortals many fail to accurately perceive them in advance. We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war long before this, but God knows best and has ruled otherwise.



March 15, 1865
Hon. Thurlow Weed:
Everyone likes a compliment. Thank you for yours on my little notification speech and on the recent inaugural address. I expect the latter to wear as well as—perhaps better than—anything I have produced, but I believe it is not immediately popular. Men are not flattered by being shown that there has been a difference of purpose between the Almighty and them. To deny it, however, in this case, is to deny that there is a God governing the world.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Friday, July 28, 2023

Abraham Lincoln's Government Job at New Salem, Illinois.

Postmaster Lincoln
1860 Portrait of Abraham Lincoln by Leopold Grozelier.
The appointment of Abraham Lincoln as Postmaster of New Salem, Illinois, on May 7, 1833, was his first recognition by the general public. The fact that his political faith was not in harmony with the administration then in power must have assured him that he had gained the goodwill of all his neighbors. Following his election as a captain in the Black Hawk War and the very complimentary vote he received as a candidate for the legislature, this honor proved that he had the faculty of making friends. This was a fundamental qualification if one were to succeed in pioneer politics.

While the appointment as Postmaster did not come to Lincoln as a political favor for contributing to the party's success, then directing the affairs of the government, the position did afford him some exceptional opportunities for paving the way toward his own political success. He learned the entire population of that part of old Sangamon County, which later became Menard County. He was usually the first to make the acquaintance of new settlers who sought out the post office, that one point of general contact and information known in pioneer days.

The privilege of reading the newspapers and periodicals that came to the post office was of greater value than the purely local associations. It gave him a more comprehensive reading than most citizens in the county and allowed him to keep advised on all sides of any public question. I recently discovered in the Morgan County courthouse at Jacksonville, Illinois, the record book of the Postmaster at that place, which gives us a better knowledge than we had had before of the many journals in circulation in the state when Lincoln was Postmaster at New Salem. This old record book gives the titles of the papers and magazines and the names of the subscribers who received the publications between October 1831 and December 1832. Lincoln might be called a contemporary of the Jacksonville postmaster. His term of office began five months after the filing of these records. On the back cover of the old book is this citation: "Samuel Hill for two letters 37½¢." Hill was the Postmaster whom Lincoln succeeded at New Salem. As Jacksonville and New Salem were not more than thirty-five miles apart, it is reasonable to conclude that most of the publications which went through one post office were circulated through the other.

Mail arrived at the New Salem Post Office once a week, delivered on a route that ran from Springfield, IL, to Millers Ferry, IL. If addressees didn't collect their mail at the Post Office, which was customary, Lincoln delivered it personally — usually carrying the mail in his hat.

Lincoln received compensation of $55.70 ($1,931 today) in the fiscal year 1835. Besides his pay, Lincoln could send and receive personal letters free and get one daily newspaper delivered for free. Lincoln served as Postmaster until the office closed in May 1836.

About $18 ($590 today) was left in the New Salem Post Office's coffers when it closed in 1836, so Lincoln held onto the money. When a government agent later visited Lincoln to collect the funds, the future President, who was financially strapped then, retrieved the money from a trunk and presented it to the agent.

EARLY PUBLICATIONS
The following publications were delivered by the Postmaster of Jacksonville, Illinois, to subscribers residing in Morgan County, Illinois, between October 1, 1881, and December 31, 1832. The names of the subscribers and the amounts of postage they paid are listed with the title of the publication in a book in the archives of the Morgan County courthouse:

Alarm, Beardstown Chronicle, Bibical Repository, Boston Recorder, Casket, Christian Advocate, Christian Messenger, Christian Watchman, Cincinnati American, Evangelist, Farmers Chronicle, Focus, Gospel Herald, Home Messenger, Illinois Herald, Home Missionary, Journal of Commerce, Kankawn Banner, Kentucky Gazette, Kentucky Reporter, Ladies Book, Lexington Observer, Liberal Advocate, Louisville Focus, Louisville Post Advertiser, Marietta Gazette, Millenial Harbinger, Missionary Reporter, Missionary Herald, Missouri Republican, National Intelligencer, National Preacher, New York Observer, New York Optic, New York Post, New York Spectator, Niles Register, Ohio Patriot, Old Countryman, Palmyra Central, Philadelphia Evening Post, Plough Boy, Presbyterian, Revivalist, Sangamon Journal, Southern Advocate, Spirit Pilgrims, Standard, St. Louis Republican, St. Louis Times, Sunday School Banner, Sunday School Journal, Susquehana Democrat, Tennessee Herald, Theology, Vandalia Whig, Wayne Sentinel, Western Luminary, Western Pioneer, Youth's Friend. 

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Saturday, July 15, 2023

How Abraham Lincoln Handled the Plethora of Gifts.

In the spring of 1982, President Ronald Reagan filed his income tax return for the previous year and, in making it public, unleashed a flurry of press coverage on a fascinating but seldom-discussed topic: the many gifts, both valuable and sentimental, that our Chief Executives seem inevitably to amass while in office. President Reagan's returns showed that he had received (and was prepared to declare as income) some $31,000 (98,000 today) in gifts, including such items as silver picture frames, a crystal wine cooler, three pairs of boots, a Chinese porcelain dinner service, and a horse blanket.
Abraham Lincoln Portrait as a Lawyer, 1832






While it lasted, the gift controversy was closely watched by the press. However, What was overlooked is that Presidential gift hoarding is not new, not even a twentieth-century phenomenon. And it would probably surprise many observers that among the Presidents who cheerfully accepted valuable presents while in office was Abraham Lincoln, who not only never disclosed them publicly (he was not required to do so) but occasionally forgot even to thank his admirers and benefactors. Had the tax and disclosure laws in the 1980s prevailed during the 1860s, the Lincolns would surely have had to contend with embarrassing revelations of their own. But such scrutiny was unheard of during Lincoln's time, as was the ethics that today seems automatically to link such presentations to ulterior motives. Coincidentally, the news of the Reagan family's gift controversies broke in the press precisely 120 years after the daughter of a Dakota judge gave Lincoln a pair of pipestone shirt studs. Lincoln, freely and without inhibition, accepted them, thanking her for her "kindness" and telling his "dear young friend" that he thought the studs "elegant."

Among the countless other items, including edibles and potables that Lincoln collected during his Presidency, were things he could not have wanted or needed, even cases of alcoholic beverages. As his friend Ward Hill Lamon remembered, Lincoln "abstained himself, not so much upon principle, as because of a total lack of appetite." once, nonetheless, a group of New York admirers "clubbed together to send him a fine assortment of wines and liquors," a White House secretary recalled. A dismayed Mary Lincoln was sure her husband would object to keeping the gift at home, so she donated the spirits to local hospitals. There, she hoped, doctors and nurses could "take the responsibility of their future."

Edible gifts─fruits and dairy products, for example─the Lincolns, seemed more than willing to keep and consume. And then there were the attractive and valuable presents: pictures, books, animals, garments, and accessories─which Lincoln almost always kept for himself. The following litany could be said, in a sense, to constitute Lincoln's own retrospective public accounting. The list serves as a reminder of how different the rules of conduct for public figures once were. 

For this reason, the study is in no way intended as an indictment. No one who observed Lincoln ever thought him obsessed with personal gain or fashion. As Lamon said, "He was not avaricious, never appropriated a cent wrongfully, and did not think money for its own sake a fit object of any man's ambition." But, as Lamon added, Lincoln also "knew its value, its power, and liked to keep it when he had it." Lincoln did, in fact, defend the aspiration to wealth, declaring once that "property is desirable . . . a positive good in the world." He had even admitted, half-jokingly, back in 1836: "No one has needed favors more than I, and generally, few have been less unwilling to accept them." 

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In fairness, Lincoln made this particular statement in the course of refusing a favor, noting, "In this case, favor to me would be an injustice to the public."

That also would characterize his policy where gifts were concerned─gifts that began arriving soon after his nomination to the presidency and continued arriving right up until the day of his assassination.

The gifts came from sincere admirers, blatant favor-seekers, princes and patriots, children and old women. Some made presentations in person: others sent their presents by express. On at least one occasion, a simply-wrapped little package looked so suspicious that Lincoln seriously entertained the notion that it had been designed to explode in his face.

But most of the gifts─from modest shawls and socks to expensive watches and canes─seemed to reflect a deep and widespread desire among Lincoln's admirers, chiefly strangers, to reach out to the troubled President and to be touched back in return by the acknowledgment that was certain to follow. It is difficult for the modern American living in the era of the so-called Imperial Presidency to comprehend the emotional and political simplicity inherent in these gestures. The inviting intimacy of the nineteenth-century Presidency─not to mention the code of conduct that encouraged such expressions of generosity seems to have vanished. In Lincoln's day, it thrived. And so the gifts began arriving after Lincoln won the Republican Presidential nomination in 1860.

Lincoln received dozens of presents during the campaign, ranging from the potentially compromising to the presumptuous. In the former category was a barrel of flour that arrived "as a small token of respect for your able support of the Tariff. "In the latter was a newfangled soap that inspired Lincoln to write self-deprecatingly to its inventor: Mrs. L. declares it is a superb article. She, at the same time, protests that I have never given sufficient attention to the 'soap question' to be a competent judge." Nonetheless, Lincoln admitted that "your Soap ... has been used at our house."

Whether or not the soap improved Lincoln's appearance can only be judged by looking at period pictures─and the candidate received a number of those as gifts also. "Artist expresses their happiness in supplying him with wretched wood-cut presentations," reported journalist Henry Villard. Lincoln admitted that his "judgment" was "worth nothing" when it came to art, but that did not stop art publishers from sending him examples of their work, possibly eager for endorsements that could be marketed to enhance sales. Engraver Thomas Doney, for example, sent a copy of his mezzotint portrait of the nominee, and Lincoln admitted that he thought it "a very good one." But he cautioned: "I am a very indifferent judge." Chicago lithographer Edward Mendel won a more enthusiastic endorsement (written by a secretary, signed by Lincoln) for his so-called "Great Picture" of the nominee. Acknowledging its receipt, Lincoln called it "a truthful Lithograph Portrait of myself." A month later, the full text of his letter was reprinted in a newspaper advertisement offering the print for sale. A possibly more careful Lincoln signed a more noncommittal acknowledgment when a Pennsylvania jurist shipped copies of an engraving whose costly production he had underwritten. Though it was a far better print than others received by the President and was the only one based on life sittings─Lincoln expressed thanks but no opinion. Perhaps he truly was a "very indifferent judge."

What Lincoln really thought about some of the odder gifts that arrived in Springfield in the summer of 1860 can only be imagined. The "Daughters of Abraham" sent what Lincoln described as "a box of fine peaches," accepted with "grateful acknowledgment." A "bag of books" arrived in the mail. From Pittsburgh came a "Lincoln nail"─which had been manufactured, according to its presenter, "in a moving procession of 50,000 Republican Freemen" on "a belt run from the wheel of a wagon connected with a nail machine." Each "Lincoln nail" had the Initial 'L' carved on the nailhead. "Show it to your little wife, I think it will please her curiosity," wrote the Pittsburgh man, adding: "I hope [to] God that the American people may hit the nail on the head this time in your election [as] a tribute of respect to yourself and the great cause of Truth and justice which you represent." With similar gifts arriving almost daily, Lincoln's temporary office in the Springfield State House began soon to look like "a museum, so many axes and wedges and log-chains were sent the candidate." According to the daughter of Lincoln's private secretary John G. Nicolay, the future President "used them in his explanations and anecdotes of pioneer days, making them serve the double purpose of amusing his visitors and keeping the conversation away from dangerous political reefs." Perhaps the best known of the office props─a familiar accessory visible in the background of period engravings─was the oversized wood-link chain, "sent to Mr. Lincoln by some man in Wisconsin," Nicolay wrote. "who . . . being a cripple and unable to leave his bed . . . had the rail brought in from the fence, and amused himself by whittling it out." The resulting "seat wooden chain," the New York Tribune cautioned, while made from a rail, was not made from "a Lincoln rail, as everybody is disposed to think." 
This woodcut was displayed in the Governor's Room of the Illinois State House (the Old State Capitol, today) in the November 24, 1860, issue of Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper.



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The chain is on display in the Illinois State Capitol (old State Capitol) in Springfield, Illinois. It is made of wooden rail links that are about 12 inches long and 3 inches wide, which were used in the construction of the Illinois Central Railroad, the first railroad in Illinois. The chain is about 10 feet long and hangs from the ceiling of the capitol rotunda. The chain was created in the 1860s and is a symbol of the state's early history with railroads. The chain was originally used to raise and lower the chandelier in the rotunda. However, the chandelier was removed in the 1960s, and the chain has been hanging unused ever since.

Another gift received around the same time, "a pair of first-class improved wedges for splitting logs." proved similarly misleading. Everybody persists in looking upon [them] as relics of Mr. Lincoln's early life," the Tribune observed, "but which really were sent to him only about a fortnight (14 days) ago, together with a fine ax."

In June came a historic relic, a "rustic chair" that had stood on a platform of Chicago's Wigwam when Lincoln was nominated at the 1860 Republican National Convention. It was made of thirty-four different kinds of wood, "symbolizing the union of the several states, including Kansas," explained the college professor assigned to forward the memento to the candidate. "Though rude in form," the chair was meant to serve as "an Emblem of the 'Chair of State,'  which . . . it is believed you are destined soon to occupy." Lincoln "gratefully accepted" both the chair and "the sentiment" but, with secession, no doubt much on his mind, wondered: "In view of what it symbolizes, might it not be called the 'Chair of State and the Union of States?' The conception of the maker is a pretty, patriotic, and national one."

Many gifts were similarly inspiring─or at the least, friendly. If ever there was a danger to Lincoln in accepting every package that came through the mail, it could never have been more apparent than on October 17, when he received this warning from a Kansas man: "As I have every reason to expect that you will be our next President─I want to warn you of one thing that you be exceedingly careful what you eat or drink as you may be poisoned by your enemies as was President Harrison and President Taylor." That same day, a Quincy, Illinois, man sent Lincoln "a Mississippi River Salmon," with the hope that "the fish . . . caught this morning will grace the table of the next President of the United States." There is no record that Lincoln responded to either letter, but it is amusing to wonder how he reacted to the receipt of the food concurrently with the receipt of the warning.

After Lincoln's election three weeks later, the steady stream of gifts grew into a flood. "A pile of letters greeted him daily," wrote Villard, and many packages bore gifts. Books, for example, arrived frequently. "Authors and speculative booksellers freely send their congratulations," Villard explained, "accompanied by complimentary volumes." Many of the other gifts were homespun─others merely "odd."

In December, one New York "stranger" sent two specially made hats. "A veritable Eagle Quill" arriving from Pennsylvania, plucked from a bird shot in 1844 in the hope that the pen fashioned from it would be used by Henry Clay to write his inaugural address. For sixteen years, its owner had waited for a candidate of equal stature to win the Presidency. And thus he wrote to Lincoln:

I . . . have the honor of resenting it to you in your character of President-elect to be used for the purpose it was originally designed. 

What a pleasing and majestic thought! The inaugural address . . . written with a pen made from the quill taken from the proud and soring emblem of our liberties.

If it is devoted in whole or in part to the purpose indicated, would not the fact and the incident be sufficiently potent to "Save the Union."

The new year of 1861 brought more valuable gifts, including several canes. One redwood, gold and quartz-handled example were judged "highly artistic and in very good taste" by visiting sculptor Thomas Dow Jones. Mrs. Lincoln received a sewing machine; some Cleveland millworkers sent Lincoln a model T-rail: and Chicago City Clerk Abraham Kohn sent a watercolor he had painted, complete with Hebrew inscriptions.
Thomas Dow Jones


Yet another Allusion to Lincoln's "beau ideal (perfect beauty: French)," Henry Clay, was offered with the arrival in February of a decades-old medal from a limited strike run of 150. One had been "reserved, at the time," explained the presenter, "with the intention . . . of presenting it to the citizen of the school of Henry Clay, who should first be elected to the Presidency. I rejoice that that event has, at last, occurred." Lincoln replied with "heartfelt thanks for your goodness in sending me this valuable present," expressing the "extreme gratification I feel in possessing so beautiful a memento of him whom, during my whole political life, I have loved and revered as a teacher and leader."

More clothing arrived as well. A Boston wholesaler sent what Lincoln acknowledged as "a very substantial and handsome overcoat," an "elegant and valuable New Year's Gift." A Westerner sent "a Union grey shawl, made of California wool . . . together with a pair of family blankets" as samples of "Pacific State weaving." Thanking the donor for the "favor," Lincoln noted the forward state of California manufacturers, which those articles exhibit." Shortly before leaving for Washington, as he stared into a mirror admiring a new topper sent by a Brooklyn hatter, Lincoln reportedly remarked to Mary Lincoln: "Well, wife, there is one thing likely to come out of this scrape, anyhow. We are going to have some new clothes!" As he had predicted, three days before his fifty-second birthday, Titsworth & Brothers, Chicago clothiers, donated an expensive suit for Lincoln to wear at his inauguration.

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The word "hatter" can refer to both men and women who make or sell hats, but it is more commonly used to refer to men. In the 18th and 19th centuries, mercury was used in the production of felt, which was commonly used in the hat-making trade at the time. Long-term exposure to mercury vapors could cause a condition known as erethism, which is characterized by tremors, slurred speech, and other neurological symptoms. This led to the widespread belief that hatters were often mad, which is why the phrase "mad as a hatter" came into use.

That same day he received a more peculiar gift, one that arrived in a package so "suspicious" looking that Thomas D. Jones, for whom Lincoln was then sitting for a sculpture, worried at first that it might contain "an infernal machine to torpedo." Jones placed it "at the back of a clay model" of Lincoln's head, "using it as an earthwork, so, in case it exploded, it would not harm either of us." It turned out to be a whistle fashioned from a pig's tail, which Tad Lincoln was soon suing "to make the house vocal if not musical . . . blowing blasts that would have astonished Roderick Dhu." Both the suit and whistle inspired Villard to file this report on February 9:

A large number of presents have been received by Mr. Lincoln within the last few days. The more noteworthy among them are a complete suit . . . to be worn by his excellency on the 4th of March. . . . The inauguration clothes, after being on exhibition for two days, will be tried on this evening─a most momentous event to be sure. . . . The oddest of all gifts to the President-elect came to hand, however, in the course of yesterday morning. It was no more or less than a whistle made out of a pig's tail. There is n "sell" in this. Your correspondent has seen the tangible refutation of the time-honored saying, "No whistle can be made out of a pig's tail," with his own eyes. The doner of the novel instrument is a prominent Ohio politician. . . . Mr. Lincoln hugely enjoyed the joke. After practicing upon this masterpiece of human ingenuity for nearly an hour, this morning, he jocosely remarked that he had never suspected, up to this time, that "there was a music in such a thing as that."

Even as Lincoln prepared to leave for Washington the following day, he was asked to accept one more gift specially designed for the inaugural journey. A Burlington, Iowa, man proposed making a [chain] mail shirt for Lincoln to wear for protection. 

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Mail shirts protected against slashing and piercing weapons but were not as effective against blunt force trauma. The rings are typically about 1 inch in diameter and linked together in a pattern that forms a tight, flexible mesh. The weight of a mail shirt can vary depending on the size and thickness of the metal rings, but they typically weigh between 10 and 30 pounds.

He even offered to plate it "with gold so that perspiration shall not affect it. The instructions continued: "It could be covered with silk and worn over an ordinary undershirt. . . . I am told that Napoleon III is constantly protected in this way" Lincoln declined the offer and left Springfield armorless. But he was not long without other sorts of gifts. En route to Washington D.C., he was given baskets of fruit and flowers. And in New York, he was given silk top hats from both Knox and Leary, rival hatters. Asked to compare them, Lincoln diplomatically told the New York World that they "mutually surpassed each other."

At last, on March 4, Lincoln moved into the White House. But the flood of gifts only increased. A carriage came from some New York friends, and a pair of carriage horses were reportedly sent to Mrs. Lincoln. Presumably, they were hitched together. A more modest donor, disclaiming personal ambition but hearing that Lincoln was "constantly besieged with applications for office," thought "that something nice and palatable in the way of good Butter might do you good and help to preserve your strength to perform your arduous duties." Along with the tun of butter came advice: "Keep a good strong pickle in this butter and in a cool place, then it will keep sweet till July." There is no record of whether the butter stayed fresh through the summer. 

During the same hot months, Secretary of State William H. Seward gave the Lincolns a quite different gift: Kittens. The pets were intended for the Lincoln children, but the President reportedly liked to have them "climb all over him" and grew "quite fond of them" himself.
1861 Picture of "Tabby."
Abraham Lincoln received Tabby and Dixie, his two cats, in 1861. It was the same year that Lincoln became President of the United States.
Case in point



John Hancock's niece sent Lincoln "an interesting relic of the past, an autograph of my uncle, having the endorsement of your ancestor, Abraham Lincoln, written a century ago: humbly trusting it may prove a happy augury of our country's future history." Lincoln returned his "cordial thanks" for both relics and "the flattering sentiment with which it was accompanied." There were spirit gifts to warm the President's heart. A "poor humble Mechanic" from Oho forwarded "one pair of slippers worked by my Little Daughter as a present for you from her." A Cincinnati man recommended the "quick and wholesome nourishment" of "Pure wine" made from grapes he planted himself. He sent a case.

Some gifts were meant to preserve honor. When a Brooklyn man read that no American flag flew over the White House, he asked for "the privilege, the honor, the glory" of presenting one. The "ladies of Washington" made a similar offer a few days later. No reply to either has been found. Nor did the President respond to an offer of toll-free carriage rides on the Seventh Street Turnpike or the gift of Dr. E. Cooper's Universal Magnetic Balm," good for Paralysis, Cramps, Colics, Burns, Bruises, Wounds, Feves, Cholera Morbus, Camp Disease, etc., etc., etc.," despite advice that Lincoln "trust it to you own family and friends (especially to General Scott). But he did respond to the gift of "a pair of socks so fine, and soft, and warm" that they "could hardly have been manufactured in any other way than the old Kentucky Fashion."

Foreign dignitaries usually sent far more exotic presents, some so valuable that Lincoln decided he could not accept them. When the King of Siam (Thailand today), for example, presented "a sward of costly materials and exquisite workmanship" along with two huge elephant tusks, Lincoln replied: "Our laws forbid the President from receiving these rich presents as personal treasures. They are therefore accepted . . . as tokens of your goodwill and friendship for the American people." Lincoln asked Congress to decide upon a suitable repository, and it chose the "Collection of Curiosities" at the Interior Department. Yet another gift offer from the King of Siam─a herd of elephants to breed in America─was refused outright, with Lincoln explaining dryly: "Our political jurisdiction . . . does not reach a latitude so low as to favor the multiplication of the elephant.

Gifts from domestic sources were not only less cumbersome, they were proper to accept. White rabbits arrived for Tad, and Clay's son presented Clay's snuffbox in the ultimate expression of faith that Lincoln had attained the stature of his political hero, Henry Clay. Earlier, when a Massachusetts delegation presented Lincoln with an "elegant whip," the ivory handle of which bore a cameo medallion of the President, he replied, according to author Nathaniel Hawthorne, who witnessed the scene, with "an address . . . shorter than the whip, but equally well made."

I might . . . follow your idea that it is . . . evidently expected that a good deal of whipping is to be done. But, as we meet here socially, let us not think only of whipping rebels, or of those who seem to think only of whipping Negroes, but of those pleasant days which it is to be hoped are in store for us when seated behind a good pair of horses, we can crack our whips and drive through a peaceful, happy and prosperous land.

"There were, of course, a great many curious books sent to him," artist Frances Bicknell Carpenter recalled, "and it seemed to be one of the special delights of his life to open these books at such an hour, that his boy [Tad] could stand beside him, and they could talk as he turned the pages." Actor James H.Hackett sent his Notes and Comments upon Certain Plays and Actors of Shakespeare. Lincoln had seen Hackett perform Falstaff in Henry IV at Ford's Theatre, but when he acknowledged the gift, he admitted, "I have seen very little of the drama." Hackett published the letter for his "personal Friends" only, but the press got hold of it and quoted it to illustrate Lincoln's ignorance. Hackett later apologized. Canes were also sent in abundance, typically hewn from some hallowed wood. Lincoln received one cane made from the hull of a destroyed Confederate ship, Merrimac, and another from a sunken Revolutionary War Ship, Alliance. Yet another, with a head carved in the shape of an eagle, was made from wood gathered in the vicinity of the 1863 Battle of Lookout Mountain. 

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Lookout Mountain is famous for the Battle of Lookout Mountain, which was fought on November 24, 1863, as part of the Chattanooga Campaign of the Civil War. The battle was fought on the slopes of Lookout Mountain, which is located in Tennessee, just across the state line from Georgia. The Union forces, led by Major General Joseph Hooker, defeated the Confederate forces, led by Major General Carter L. Stevenson. The victory gave the Union control of Lookout Mountain and helped to break the Confederate siege of Chattanooga. The battle was also known as the Battle Above the Clouds because it was fought in thick fog. The fog obscured the battlefield and made it difficult for the soldiers to see each other. This led to some confusion and casualties, but it also helped to protect the Union forces from Confederate artillery fire. The Battle of Lookout Mountain was a significant victory for the Union. It helped to break the Confederate siege of Chattanooga and opened the way for the Union to take control of the city. The victory also boosted Union morale and helped to turn the tide of the war in the Western Theater.

Journeying to Philadelphia in June 1864 to attend the Great Central Sanitary Fair (held from June 7 to June 28, 1864), Lincoln was given a staff made from the wood of the arch under which George Washington had passed at Trenton, New Jersey, en route to his inauguration.

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The Great Central Sanitary Fair was a fundraiser for the United States Sanitary Commission, a volunteer organization founded at the beginning of the Civil War to provide medical care for Union soldiers. 

Were all these gifts made with no ulterior motive in Mind? It is impossible to say─although Lincoln might have sniffed out one potentially compromising situation in 1863 when Christopher M. Spencer gave him a new Spencer Rifle, along with a demonstration of the proper way to assemble it. A large War Department order could make a munitions man wealthy overnight, and there was no shortage of new military gadgetry sent to the White House. Clerk William Stoddard reported that his own office eventually  "looked like a gunshop." Similarly, when an Indian agent fighting a theft charge petitioned Lincoln to intervene for him, enclosing quilled moccasins as a gift, Lincoln took off his boots and tried them on whit a smile. But he did not intervene in the case. later, when California railroad men presented Lincoln with an exquisite, thirteen-inch-long spun gold watch chain, it was quite possible the delegation was thinking not so much about how elegant the adornment would look on the Presidential waistcoat but how lucrative would be government support for the building of roadbeds out west. Lincoln apparently did not care much. He posed for his most famous photographs wearing the ornament. An ideal companion piece, a gold watch, arrived in late 1863, forwarded by a Chicago jeweler on behalf of the Sanitary Commission. Lincoln expressed thanks for the "humanity and generosity" of which he had "unexpectedly become the beneficiary." It seemed the jeweler had promised the watch to the largest contributor to the Ladies Northwestern Fair.

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The Ladies Northwestern Fair was a fund-raising event held in Chicago, Illinois, from May 30 to June 21, 1865. It was organized by women to benefit the United States Sanitary Commission, which provided medical care to Union soldiers during the Civil War. The fair was a huge success, raising over $1.1 million ($20.6 million today).

Lincoln had donated a copy of the Emancipation Proclamation. It sold for $3,999, winning him the prize. Lincoln seemed pleased also by a rather hideous elkhorn chair presented by a frontiersman, Seth Kinman. They admired an Afghan made by two New York girls ("I am glad you remember me for the country's sake) and the Vermont cheese forwarded by an admirer from Anby ("superior and delicious"). He liked the book of funny lectured he received from a comic "mountebank," and the "very excellent . . . very comfortable" socks knitted by an eighty-seven-year-old Massachusetts woman. Lincoln thought these "evidence, of the patriotic devotion which, at your advanced age, you bear to our great and just cause."

A "very comfortable" chair came from the Shakers; a fine "suit of garments" was made to Lincoln's order and displayed for a while at a Sanitary Fair; a "useful" Scotch plaid; a "handsome and ingenious pocket knife" (acknowledged not once but twice); a red, white, and blue silk bedspread emblazoned with stars and stripes and the American eagle; an exquisite gold box decorated with his own likeness and filled with quartz crystal─all of these were received and acknowledged in 1864.

More art came to hand as well. Sculptor John Rogers sent his statuary group, Wounded Scout─A Friend in the Swamp, which Lincoln thought "very pretty and suggestive." The President found "pretty and acceptable" a gift of photographic views of Central Park in New York City, which its senders, E, & H. T. Anthony & Co., hoped would "afford you a relaxation from the turmoil and cares of office." Photographer Alexander Gardner sent along the results of an 1863 sitting, which Lincoln thought "generally very successful," adding: "The imperial photograph, in which the head leans upon the hand, I regard as the best that I have yet seen." Lincoln seemed less taken with a photographic copy of an allegorical sketch by Charles E. H. Richardson called The Antietam Gem.

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The Battle of Antietam was fought on September 17, 1862, in Sharpsburg, Maryland. The battle was one of the bloodiest in American history and resulted in over 23,000 casualties.

As a contemporary described the scene: "Twilight is seen scattering the murky clouds which enveloped and struck terror to the people in the days of Fort Sumter."  The Union was shown "Crushing out Secession, unloosening its folds from around the Fasces of the Republic." The cart-de-visite copy had been sent in the hope that Lincoln would want the original after the conclusion of its display at a Philadelphia fair. Instead, Lincoln suggested tactfully that it be "sold for the benefit of the Fair." Despite his apparent aversion to such representational works, the President did sit still once for the presentation of an allegorical tribute to Emancipation "in a massive carved frame." Lincoln "kindly accorded the desired opportunity to make the presentation, which occupied but a few minutes." remembered artist Francis Carpenter, who witnessed the scene. After it was over, Lincoln confided to Carpenter precisely how he felt about the gift. "It is what I call ingenious nonsense," he declared.

According to Carpenter, of all the gifts Lincoln ever received, non gave him "more sincere pleasure" than the presentation by the "Negro people of Baltimore"  of an especially handsome pulpit-size Bible, bound in violet velvet with solid gold corner bands. "Upon the left-hand corner," Carpenter observed, "was a design representing the President in a cotton field knocking the shackles off the wrists of a slave, who held one hand aloft as if invoking blessings upon the head of his benefactor." The Bible was inscribed to Lincoln as "a token of respect and gratitude" to the "friend of Universal Freedom." Rev. S. W. Chase, in making the presentation, declared: "In future, when our sons shall ask what these tokens mean, they will be told of your mighty acts and rise up and call you blessed." Lincoln replied: "I return you my sincere thanks for this very elegant copy of the great book of God . . . the best gift which God has ever given man."

Another touching ceremony took place the next year when a Philadelphia delegation gave Lincoln "a truly beautiful and superb vase of skeleton leaves, gathered from the battle-fields of Gettysburg."

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Lincoln told the group that "so much has been said about Gettysburg, and so well said, that for me to attempt to say more may, perhaps, only serve to weaken the force of that which has served to weaken the force of that which has already been said." Interestingly, he was referring not to his own words spoken on November 19, 1863, but to those of principal orator Edward Everett, who had died just nine days before the vase presentation.

Lincoln was deeply moved as well when Caroline Johnson, a former slave who had become a nurse in a Philadelphia hospital, arrived at the White House to express her "reverence and affection" for Lincoln by presenting him with a beautifully made collection of wax fruits and an ornamented stem table-stand. Together with her minister, she arrived in Lincoln's office, unpacked the materials, and set up the stand and fruits in the center of the room as the President and First lady looked on. Then she was invited to say a few words, and as she later recalled:

I looked down to the floor and felt that I had not a word to say, but after a moment to two, the fire began to burn, . . . and it burned and burned till it went all over me. I think it was the Spirit, and I looked up to him and said: "Mr. President, I believe God has hewn you out of a rock for this great and mighty purpose. Many have been led away by bribes of gold or silver, of presents, but you have stood firm because God was with you." With his eyes full of tears, he walked round and examined the present, pronounced it beautiful, thanked me kindly, but said: "You must not give me the praise─It belongs to God."

By the last few months of his life, the novelty of Presidential gifts seemed finally to wear off for Lincoln. When in late 1864, the organizers of a charity fair asked him to contribute the mammoth ox. "General Grant," recently sent by a Boston donor, Lincoln seemed totally unaware that he had been given the beast. "If it is really [mine] . . . I present it," he wrote incredulously. It was auctioned off for $3,200 ($77,500 today). A new pattern had been established. Gifts were still arriving, but Lincoln was no longer taking notice. There is no record of any acknowledgments, for example, for the many Thanksgiving gifts received in November 1864.

Then, only two months before the assassination, Lincoln had to be reminded by Abolitionist leader William Lloyd Garrison that he had also failed to acknowledge the gift a full year before of a "spirited" painting depicting Negores awaiting the percise moment of their emancipation. "As the money was raised," Garrison wrote testily, "by ladies who desire that the donors may be officially appraised of its legitimate application, I write on their behalf." Noting that visitors had "seen the picture again and again at the White House," Garrison pressed Lincoln to avoid further "embarrassment" by taking note that "the painting . . . was duly received." A weary Lincoln apologized for his "seeming neglect," explaining weakly that he had intended "to make my personal acknowledgment . . . and waited for some leisure hour, I have committed the discourtesy of not replying at all. I hope you will believe that my thanks though late, are most cordial." The letter was written by Secretary John Hay; Lincoln merely signed it.

The very last recorded gift presented to Lincoln came from a delegation of fifteen visitors only hours before the President left for his fateful visit to Ford's Theatre. Anticlimactically, the presentation ceremony─such as it was─took place in a hallway. A spokesman made a brief impromptu speech, and Lincoln was handed a picture of himself in a silver frame. There is no record of his reply. But by then, Lincoln had been given a far more precious gift: the surrender of Lee's army at Appomattox. Before, he had very much time to savor it; however, he was dead.  

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.