Abraham Lincoln's Poem - "The Bear Hunt."

In the spring of 1846, Abraham Lincoln sent some poetry to his friend Andrew Johnston. At Lincoln's request, Johnston published this poem anonymously in the Quincy, Illinois Whig on May 5, 1847.

The Bear Hunt

by Abraham Lincoln

Published in 1847

A wild-bear chace[1], didst never see?

Then hast thou lived in vain.

Thy richest bump of glorious glee,

Lies desert in thy brain.

When first my father settled here,

'Twas then the frontier line:

The panther's scream, filled night with fear

And bears preyed on the swine.

But wo for Bruin's short lived fun,

When rose the squealing cry;

Now man and horse, with dog and gun,

For vengeance, at him fly.

A sound of danger strikes his ear;

He gives the breeze a snuff;

Away he bounds, with little fear,

And seeks the tangled rough.

On press his foes, and reach the ground,

Where's left his half munched meal;

The dogs, in circles, scent around,

And find his fresh made trail.

With instant cry, away they dash,

And men as fast pursue;

O'er logs they leap, through water splash,

And shout the brisk halloo.

Now to elude the eager pack,

Bear shuns the open ground;

Th[r]ough matted vines, he shapes his track

And runs it, round and round.

The tall fleet cur, with deep-mouthed voice,

Now speeds him, as the wind;

While half-grown pup, and short-legged fice,

Are yelping far behind.

And fresh recruits are dropping in

To join the merry corps:

With yelp and yell,--a mingled din--

The woods are in a roar.

And round, and round the chace now goes,

The world's alive with fun;

Nick Carter's horse, his rider throws,

And more, Hill drops his gun.

Now sorely pressed, bear glances back,

And lolls his tired tongue;

When as, to force him from his track,

An ambush on him sprung.

Across the glade he sweeps for flight,

And fully is in view.

The dogs, new-fired, by the sight,

Their cry, and speed, renew.

The foremost ones, now reach his rear,

He turns, they dash away;

And circling now, the wrathful bear,

They have him full at bay.

At top of speed, the horse-men come,

All screaming in a row,

"Whoop! Take him Tiger. Seize him Drum."

Bang,--bang--the rifles go.

And furious now, the dogs he tears,

And crushes in his ire,

Wheels right and left, and upward rears,

With eyes of burning fire.

But leaden death is at his heart,

Vain all the strength he plies.

And, spouting blood from every part,

He reels, and sinks, and dies.

And now a dinsome clamor rose,

'Bout who should have his skin;

Who first draws blood, each hunter knows,

This prize must always win.

But who did this, and how to trace

What's true from what's a lie,

Like lawyers, in a murder case

They stoutly argufy.

Aforesaid fice, of blustering mood,

Behind, and quite forgot,

Just now emerging from the wood,

Arrives upon the spot.

With grinning teeth, and up-turned hair--

Brim full of spunk and wrath,

He growls, and seizes on dead bear,

And shakes for life and death.

And swells as if his skin would tear,

And growls and shakes again;

And swears, as plain as dog can swear,

That he has won the skin.

Conceited whelp! we laugh at thee--

Nor mind, that now a few

Of pompous, two-legged dogs there be,

Conceited quite as you.

---

Abraham Lincoln: True Crime Author of "A Remarkable Case of Arrest for Murder."

Abraham Lincoln's Poem - "My Childhood Home I See Again." 

Abraham Lincoln's Novelette - "How I Twice Eloped."

---

[1] The name Chace is a boy's name meaning "to hunt."

Abraham Lincoln's Poem - "My Childhood Home I See Again."

Abraham Lincoln, a third-term representative and leader of the Whig Party statewide. Andrew Johnston, Lincoln's friend, published the Quincy [Illinois] Whig Newspaper and was a member of the Whig Party in the 1840s. Although politics was their first bond, Johnston and Lincoln shared an interest in poetry and corresponded about it.

In the spring of 1846, Abraham Lincoln completed the composition of one of his most serious poems, which dealt with his emotions upon visiting his childhood home. It is divided into two cantos. The first section was mailed to Lincoln's friend and fellow politician, Andrew Johnston, on April 18, 1846. The second was mailed on September 6, 1846. On May 5, 1847, Johnston published Lincoln's poem anonymously both cantos in the Quincy Whig Newspaper (The Herald-Whig, today) and titled it as "The Return." The first canto was dubbed "Part I – Reflection," and the second, "Part II – The Maniac."

This undated photo shows the office of the Quincy Whig Newspaper when it was on Hampshire Street. Andrew Johnston was an editor there who published Lincoln’s poem "My Childhood Home I See Again" titled as "The Return" in the paper on May 5, 1847.

Lincoln offered Johnston an explanation of the poem, "My Childhood Home I See Again," saying he had visited his boyhood neighborhood in southern Indiana in the fall of 1844 while campaigning for presidential hopeful Henry Clay. He commented that the region was "as unpoetical as any spot of the earth," but it brought back memories of loved ones such as his mother and sister who lay buried there.

My Childhood Home I See Again

by Abraham Lincoln

Published as "The Return" in 1847

— Part I – Reflection —

My childhood's home I see again,

And sadden with the view;

And still, as memory crowds my brain,

There's pleasure in it too.

O Memory! thou midway world

'Twixt earth and paradise,

Where things decayed and loved ones lost

In dreamy shadows rise,

And, freed from all that's earthly vile,

Seem hallowed, pure, and bright,

Like scenes in some enchanted isle

All bathed in liquid light.

As dusky mountains please the eye

When twilight chases day;

As bugle-tones that, passing by,

In distance die away;

As leaving some grand waterfall,

We, lingering, list its roar--

So memory will hallow all

We've known, but know no more.

Near twenty years have passed away

Since here I bid farewell

To woods and fields, and scenes of play,

And playmates loved so well.

Where many were, but few remain

Of old familiar things;

But seeing them, to mind again

The lost and absent brings.

The friends I left that parting day,

How changed, as time has sped!

Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray,

And half of all are dead.

I hear the loved survivors tell

How nought from death could save,

Till every sound appears a knell,

And every spot a grave.

I range the fields with pensive tread,

And pace the hollow rooms,

And feel (companion of the dead)

I'm living in the tombs.

Lincoln made Matthew Gentry the subject of Part II, telling Andrew Johnston: "He is three years older than I, and when we were boys we went to school together. He was rather a bright lad and the son of the rich man of our poor neighborhood. At the age of nineteen, he unaccountably became furiously mad, from which condition he gradually settled down into harmless insanity. When, as I told you in my other letter I visited my old home in the fall of 1844, I found him still lingering in this wretched condition. In my poetizing mood, I could not forget the impression his case made upon me."

— Part II – The Maniac —

But here's an object more of dread

Than ought the grave contains--

A human form with reason fled,

While wretched life remains.

Poor Matthew! Once of genius bright,

A fortune-favored child--

Now locked for aye, in mental night,

A haggard mad-man wild.

Poor Matthew! I have ne'er forgot,

When first, with maddened will,

Yourself you maimed, your father fought,

And mother strove to kill;

When terror spread, and neighbors ran,

Your dange'rous strength to bind;

And soon, a howling crazy man

Your limbs were fast confined.

How then you strove and shrieked aloud,

Your bones and sinews bared;

And fiendish on the gazing crowd,

With burning eye-balls glared--

And begged, and swore, and wept and prayed

With maniac laught[ter?] joined--

How fearful were those signs displayed

By pangs that killed thy mind!

And when at length, tho' drear and long,

Time smoothed thy fiercer woes,

How plaintively thy mournful song

Upon the still night rose.

I've heard it oft, as if I dreamed,

Far distant, sweet, and lone--

The funeral dirge, it ever seemed

Of reason dead and gone.

To drink it's strains, I've stole away,

All stealthily and still,

Ere yet the rising God of day

Had streaked the Eastern hill.

Air held his breath; trees, with the spell,

Seemed sorrowing angels round,

Whose swelling tears in dew-drops fell

Upon the listening ground.

But this is past; and nought remains,

That raised thee o'er the brute.

Thy piercing shrieks, and soothing strains,

Are like, forever mute.

Now fare thee well--more thou the cause,

Than subject now of woe.

All mental pangs, by time's kind laws,

Hast lost the power to know.

O death! Thou awe-inspiring prince,

That keepst the world in fear;

Why dost thos tear more blest ones hence,

And leave him ling'ring here?

---

Abraham Lincoln: True Crime Author of "A Remarkable Case of Arrest for Murder."

Abraham Lincoln's Poem - "The Bear Hunt." 

Abraham Lincoln's Novelette - "How I Twice Eloped."

The History of James Varnum Gale from Ogle County, Illinois. Not to be confused with his Brother, John V. Gale.

Born in Concord, New Hampshire on November 2, 1806, the son of Benjamin and Prudence (Varnum) Gale; his father was a man of considerable prominence in his state and is closely identified with its early history. James, a retired merchant, lived to eighty-seven years old. 

James received his preliminary education in local schools. In 1824, he entered the United States Military Academy at West Point, where he remained for about a year. In 1827 he moved to Boston, where he was engaged as a clerk in a store on Rowes' Wharf, Boston. In 1831 James started his own mercantile business until 1835 when he sold his interest. 

He was married in April of 1832, to Caroline Gibson, of New Hampshire, and had two daughters, the only survivors of several children; Mary Jane and Frances.

James moved to Illinois, and in May of 1835, located in Ogle County, and erected the first log cabin at today's South 5th and Madison Streets, the site of the original Ruby Nash School, which was built in 1896 and sold to the Oregon Park District in 1983. 

James V. Gale Built the First Residence in Oregon, Illinois.

He farmed his homestead until 1848 when the town had grown considerably, he embarked in a mercantile business with a partner, which they ran very successfully about four years. Retiring from active mercantile pursuits they sold their establishment. James erected a sawmill.

James V. Gale was the oldest living resident of Oregon, and held many responsible positions; he was the first Recorder of Ogle County and held that office eleven years. James was also the first Justice of the Peace (elected in 1836), and the first Public Administrator. He was the Supervisor for the Oregon Township from 1853 to 1854 and also from 1858 to 1868. James was the second Postmaster of Oregon, being appointed by President Harrison in 1841, holding the office two years but was removed from that office on account of politics by not being a "Tyler" man (defecting to another party or political position while in office).

James was elected by the Republican party of his district to represent them in the Illinois House of Representatives in 1863. The Old Settlers' Association met for the first time on February 10, 1869, electing John Phelps as President, James V. Gale as Secretary, and William J Mix as Treasurer. Their first annual meeting was held on May 27, 1869, in the Court House at Oregon.

Oregon became an incorporated city in 1870 and James was elected its first Mayor, serving in that capacity two years; in the same year, he was elected a Director of the Chicago and Iowa Railway Company and was subsequently elected Vice President of the Company. He was also a Director of the First National Bank of Oregon and their Vice President.

James was known to keep a journal noting the important events transpiring during that time period in Oregon and Ogle County history. James V. Gale is buried at Riverside Cemetery in Oregon, Ogle County, Illinois.

History of Ogle County, Illinois, Published 1878.

Edited by Neil Gale, Ph.D.