Lincoln, the unknown

60 •LINCOLN THE UNKNOWNHis mind came very near being unbalanced; and it is doubtfulwhether he ever fully recovered from the effects of these awfulweeks of unspeakable torture. Although he had definitely agreedto the marriage, his whole soul rebelled against it. Without realizingit, he was seeking a way of escape. He sat for hours inthe room above the store, with no desire to go to his office orto attend the meetings of the legislature of which he was a member.Sometimes he arose at three o'clock in the morning, wentdown below, lighted a fire in the fireplace, and sat staring at ituntil daybreak. He ate less, and began to lose weight. He wasirritable, avoided people, and would talk to no one.He had begun now to recoil with horror from his approachingmarriage. His mind seemed to be whirling through a darkabyss, and he feared that he was losing his reason. He wrote along letter to Dr. Daniel Drake of Cincinnati, the most eminentphysician in the West, the head of the medical departmentof the College of Cincinnati, describing his case and asking thephysician to recommend a course of treatment. But Dr. Drakereplied that it would be impossible for him to do so without apersonal examination.The marriage was set for January 1, 1841. The day dawnedbright and clear, and the aristocracy of Springfield flourishedabout in sleighs, making their New Year's calls. Out of nostrilsof horses issued breaths of steam, and the tinkleof tiny bellsfilled the air.At the Edwards mansion the bustle and hurry of final preparationwent on apace. Delivery boys hastened to the back doorwith this article and that that had been ordered at the last minute.A special chef had been hired for the occasion. The dinnerwas to be cooked, not in an old iron oven on the hearth, but ina new invention that had just been installed—a cooking stove.The early evening of New Year's Day descended on the town,candles glowed softly, holly wreaths hung in the windows. TheEdwards house was hushed with excitement, vibrant with expectation.At six-thirty happy guests began to arrive. At six forty-fivecame the minister, the ritual of the Church under his arm. Therooms were banked with plants, colorful with flowers. Hugefires crackled and blazed on the hearths. The place resoundedwith pleasant and friendly chatter.The clock struck seven. . . . Seven-thirty. Lincoln had not... He was late.arrived.