covered with an abundance of coarse black hair, worn
rather long, through which he frequently passed his
fingers; arms and legs of unusual length; head inclined
slightly forward, which made him appear stoop-shouldered.
His features betrayed neither excitement nor anxiety.
They were calm and fixed. In short, his appearance
was that of a man who felt the responsibility of his
position and was determined to acquit himself to the
best of his ability. I do not remember the points
of his speech; but his manner was so peculiar, so different
from that of other orators whom I have heard, that
I can never forget it. He spoke for almost two
hours, entirely without notes and with an eloquence
that I have never heard surpassed. He was all
life, all motion; every muscle and fibre of his body
seemed brought into requisition. His voice was
clear, distinct, and well modulated. Every word
was clean-cut and exactly suited to its place.
At times he would stoop over until his hands almost
swept the floor. Then he would straighten himself
up, fold his arms across his breast, and take a few
steps forward or back. This movement completed,
he would fling his arms above his head, or thrust
them beneath his coat-tails, elevating or depressing
his voice to suit the attitude assumed and the sentiment
expressed. Arms and legs were continually in
motion. It seemed impossible for him to stand
still. In the midst of the most impassioned or
pathetic portions of his speech, he would extend his
long arms toward the judge or jury, and shake his bony
fingers with an effect that is indescribable.
He held his audience to the last; and when he sat
down there was a murmur of applause which the judge
with difficulty prevented from swelling to a roar.
The argument must have been as able as the manner
of the speaker was attractive, for the verdict was
in favor of his client.
“When he had retired to his hotel after the
trial, and while conversing with a number of gentlemen
who had called to pay their respects to him, Lincoln
was informed that an old colored woman, who had known
him years before in Kentucky, wished to see him.
She was too feeble to come to him, and desired him
to go to her. Ascertaining where she lived, Lincoln
started at once, accompanied by a boy who acted as
pilot. He found the woman in a wretched hovel
in the outskirts of the town, sick and destitute.
He remembered her very well, as she had belonged to
the owner of the farm upon which Lincoln was born.
He gave her money to supply her immediate wants, promised
her that he would see she did not suffer for the necessaries
of life, and when he returned to town hunted up a
physician and engaged him to give the old woman all
the medical attention that her case demanded.”