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Lincoln, the unknown

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46 • LINCOLN THE UNKNOWNIt became his favorite. He often repeated it to himself when hethought no one else was listening; repeated it to people in <strong>the</strong>country hotels of Illinois; repeated it in public addresses; repeatedit to guests in <strong>the</strong> White House; wrote copies of it for hisfriends; and said:"I would give all I am worth, and go in debt, to be ableto write like that."He loved <strong>the</strong> last two stanzas best:isYea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,Are mingled toge<strong>the</strong>r in sunshine and rain;And <strong>the</strong> smile and <strong>the</strong> tear and <strong>the</strong> song and <strong>the</strong> dirgeStill follow each o<strong>the</strong>r, like surge upon surge.Tis <strong>the</strong> wink of an eye, 'tis <strong>the</strong> draught of a breath,From <strong>the</strong> blossom of health to <strong>the</strong> paleness of death,From <strong>the</strong> gilded saloon to <strong>the</strong> bier and <strong>the</strong> shroud,Oh, why should <strong>the</strong> spirit of mortal be proud?The old Concord Cemetery, where Ann Rutledge was buried,a peaceful acre in <strong>the</strong> midst of a quiet farm, surrounded onthree sides by wheat-fields and on <strong>the</strong> fourth by a blue-grasspasture where cattle feed and sheep graze. The cemetery itselfis overgrown now with brush and vines, and is seldom visitedby man. In <strong>the</strong> springtime <strong>the</strong> quails make <strong>the</strong>ir nests in it and<strong>the</strong> silence of <strong>the</strong> place is broken only by <strong>the</strong> bleating of sheepand <strong>the</strong> call of <strong>the</strong> bob-white.For more than half a century <strong>the</strong> body of Ann Rutledgelay <strong>the</strong>re in peace. But in 1890 a local undertaker started anew cemetery in Petersburg, four miles away. Petersburg alreadyhad a beautiful and commodious burying-ground knownas <strong>the</strong> Rose Hill Cemetery; so selling lots in <strong>the</strong> new one wasslow and difficult. Consequently, <strong>the</strong> greedy undertaker, in anunholy moment, conceived <strong>the</strong> gruesome scheme of violating<strong>the</strong> grave of <strong>Lincoln</strong>'s swee<strong>the</strong>art, bringing her dust to his cemetery,and using its presence <strong>the</strong>re as an argument to boostsales.So "on or about <strong>the</strong> fifteenth of May, 1890"—to quote <strong>the</strong>exact words of his shocking confession—he opened her grave.And what did he find? We know, for <strong>the</strong>re is a quiet old ladystill living in Petersburg who told <strong>the</strong> story to <strong>the</strong> author of thisvolume, and made an affidavit to its veracity. She is <strong>the</strong> daughterof McGrady Rutledge, who was a first cousin of Ann Rut-

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