The Stalking Horse by Miriam Grace Monfredo

Author:Miriam Grace Monfredo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: women, history, civil war, new york, suffrage
Publisher: Miriam Grace Monfredo

CHAPTER 16

My wife is as handsome as when she was a girl and I a poor nobody then, fell in love with her and once more, have never fallen out.

—Abraham Lincoln

Mary Lincoln lifted her face to the sunshine straining through the train's dusty window. Though it warmed with only the feeble strength of February, the sun made her feel hopeful, safely distanced from the danger she had come to anticipate every waking hour. Four days previous, there had been another suspicious incident: a freight train derailment on the way into Pittsburgh that had caused their own train a two-hour delay while the track ahead was cleared. There was some speculation that the rails had been deliberately loosened, but to Mary's dismay, Mr. Lincoln found this conjecture "fanciful." Subsequently, however, nothing worrisome had occurred.

The crowds, not only in Pittsburgh, but in Cleveland, and yesterday in Buffalo, had been enormous and enthusiastic. Thousands had jammed the streets of the city on the shore of Lake Erie when she and Mr. Lincoln climbed from the train to be met by former president Millard Fillmore. The crowd was so large that the Buffalo police had needed to make a passageway to the waiting carriages. Even so, she and Mr. Lincoln had been forced to fight their way through the crush of bodies, all wanting to shake the new President's hand. They had then rode to the American Hotel with a procession following.

At first Mary had been offended by the familiarity of the crowd, and thought the shouts of "Hi, Abe!" and "Good luck, President Abe," to be disrespectful. But the greetings were given with such exuberant good nature that she came to understand it was simple affection being offered; that her husband was viewed as friendly and accessible to the common man. She found herself caught up in the excitement, waving to the well-wishers lining the street and taking pride in the hundreds of American flags flapping in the brisk wind. Perhaps her melancholy had finally begun to fade. She knew she was changeable, always had been. Her moods like "sunshine or storm," Mr. Lincoln frequently said, and "tempestuous as midwestern spring weather."

After the Buffalo mayor's welcoming address on the steps of the hotel, Mr. Lincoln spoke but a few words in a voice, Mary noted with concern, that had become increasingly hoarse: "We've had a fortunate and agreeable journey during the week, with nothing to mar the trip."

No matter what, he would say that.

At six o'clock the next morning, as the train had chugged out of Buffalo, the streets were again thronged. In spite of the early hour, the atmosphere had been warmly festive, and what with that and the sunshine, Mary resolved she should look to the future with optimism. Perhaps the worst lay behind them. After all, she was now the First Lady. It took some time for this fact to settle in, but she had begun to enjoy her new persona. The newspapers in the cities they passed through had

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