| Lifelike
representations of the president and his family
greet visitors in the museum's entry plaza, with a
replica of the White House in the background. |
 |
SPRINGFIELD,
Ill. — "Be sure to use the handrail," national
park guide Ronnie van Nostrand said as he led a small tour
group upstairs in the only home Abraham Lincoln ever
owned. "It’s the same railing Mr. Lincoln
used."
We
had all come to Springfield for just such a brush with the
real Lincoln, before he left for the White House — and
lasting fame — in 1861. In this unassuming city in
central Illinois, the self-educated man polished his
persona, married, suffered a child’s death, famously
declared "a house divided against itself cannot
stand," and unwittingly prepared for his pivotal role
in our nation. This spot, more than a Kentucky cabin or a
monument in Washington, D.C., illuminates Lincoln’s
whole life.
When
the 16th president of the United States was assassinated a
mere five days after the end of the Civil War — and on
Good Friday, the day that marks the death of Jesus on the
cross — the country’s intrigue with the towering,
brooding man had just begun. Now, as the nation marks the
150th anniversaries of various Civil War battles, that
fascination is being reignited.
Today,
Lincoln’s face is everywhere. At least 20 books about
the president will be published before next summer, the
Wall Street Journal recently reported. And for weeks,
crowds have been flocking to see "Lincoln," the
much-praised Steven Spielberg film starring Daniel
Day-Lewis in a screenplay penned by Tony Kushner.
Despite
the big names, it’s still nothing more than a depiction
on a big screen. During my recent trip to Illinois’
capital city of 112,000, I dwelled in Lincoln’s world,
walking from his home to his law office and the Capitol
building where he honed his political skills. I spent
hours at the $90 million museum devoted to his life. At
those spots and others, I could visualize — and humanize
— the president whom Americans and the world have
vaulted to saint status.
During
my tour of the house, I saw the family room where Lincoln
lay by the hearth reading to his children. In the living
room, van Nostrand pointed out where Lincoln had stood
when he learned he would be president. I imagined the man
sitting down to absorb the life-altering news on the
nearby Victorian sofa, whose black fabric had been woven
horse hair.
The
neat clapboard home expanded along with Lincoln’s law
practice and family. When he and his wife, Mary, moved
there in 1844, it had three rooms. By the time they left
in 1861, it had 12 rooms and a full second story,
including a guest bedroom, a small maid’s room and a
"trunk room," where Mary kept her many hoop
dresses — that era’s walk-in closet.
The
home has been open for tours nearly since Robert Lincoln
donated it to the state of Illinois in 1887, under the
condition that it be well maintained and open free to the
public. It is now the centerpiece of the National Park
Service’s four-square-block Lincoln Home National
Historic Site.
On
the day I visited, workers pounded cedar shingles atop a
historic home getting its regular upkeep. To present the
area as it would have looked in Lincoln’s time, the Park
Service replaced concrete sidewalks with wooded walkways
and removed more-modern houses and one Piggly Wiggly
supermarket, leaving open lots beside Italianate and
colonial style houses.
Down
the gravel road from Lincoln’s home, a campaign float
— a diminutive log cabin on wagon wheels — suggests
that some political tactics began long ago; it was Lincoln’s
way of reminding voters of his humble beginnings.
In
the visitor center of the Lincoln-Herndon Law Office, even
before we climbed the stairs to the actual offices, my
tour guide took a moment to set the record straight. With
her hands folded as if in prayer and her eyes insisting on
contact, she told us that Lincoln was an exceptional
lawyer.
She
warned that the presidential museum nearby reproduced the
law office on a day when the two Lincoln boys were there,
wreaking havoc. One stands on a table, poised to pitch a
baseball; another is ready to strike it with a fire poker.
Lincoln’s children did occasionally visit him at work,
and they were known to be rambunctious, testing their
indulgent father, she conceded before making her point:
"I worry that if that is all people know about
Lincoln’s law career, they may not think much of his
skills. They may wonder, ‘What kind of lawyer was he?’
He was an intelligent, adroit lawyer."
Upstairs,
we passed through federal courtrooms before climbing to a
sparsely furnished room on the third floor, where two
tables topped by green felt formed a "T." At
those tables and in just such a room — this was a
reproduction in the actual building that held Lincoln’s
offices — the man who would become our 16th president
quietly went about his layerly work.
It
was what he did across the street, in the Greek Revival
Old State Capitol, that defined Lincoln for the nation.
In
the representatives’ chamber there, a room now festooned
with patriotic bunting, Lincoln riveted the 1858 Illinois
Republican State Convention with his "House
Divided" speech. The address warned against the
discord slavery was causing in the nation, and it set the
stage for the Lincoln-Douglas debates that put Lincoln in
the spotlight.
My
tour guide ushered me past the low wooden gate to the
chamber, where a tall black stovepipe hat perches on what
was Lincoln’s desk. Then he shared his perspective on
the great man and his accomplishments. "Everyone
talks about freeing the slaves like it was this instantly
great thing," the guide said. "But think of
yourself as a slave, like some of my people. Suddenly, you
have no shelter, no food to eat."
Well
before Lincoln set anyone free, he began making his own
way as a young man in a village called New Salem. I drove
20 miles outside of Springfield to get there, and passed a
pleasant afternoon among replica log cabins and stores
populated with historical re-enactors. A woman cooked over
an open flame and a man swatted at flies in his doorway,
but the two Lincoln-Berry stores were empty save for dry
goods lining the shelves. Fitting that they should be
without customers: The two stores had failed, and
fatefully so since the underemployed Lincoln then began
studying law.
Lincoln
was a masterful storyteller, according to a short film at
the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum. So is the museum
— and it has high-tech tricks to bolster its tales.
Lifelike
representations of the president and his family greet
visitors in the museum’s entry plaza, with a replica of
the White House in the background. In the "Ghosts of
the Library" theater, holograms of Civil War soldiers
take form from clouds that billow out of books and boxes.
Cannons boom and smoke pours out from behind the screen
during the film "Through Lincoln’s Eyes." The
entire, enthralling effect is to carry you away to Lincoln’s
time.
I
could have spent hours in the War Gallery, dominated by a
display of Civil War photos on three red walls. A computer
screen re-creates the display in miniature; tap a photo on
the screen and you’ll learn some compelling stuff. One
image of a young soldier caught my eye, so I touched the
computer. It was Frances Clalin Clayton, a woman who
disguised herself as a man to fight for the Union. The
computer encouraged me to find another photo of her. I
did; it showed her sitting demurely, wearing a dress.
The
museum, which opened in 2005, consistently ranks as one of
the most visited of state-run presidential museums, and it
should.
At
my last stop — Lincoln Tomb, where he, his wife and
three of his four sons are buried — impressions of the
museum still swirled in my head. I recalled especially the
re-creation of the presidential box at Ford’s Theatre,
where Lincoln was shot.
That’s
when I met the friendly couple from Chicago, anthropology
professor William Irons and his wife, Margie Rogaster.
Irons told me, with sparkling eyes and some ironic glee,
that he is a distant relative of John Wilkes Booth, the
man who shot Lincoln. It was just another vivid encounter
with Lincoln lore in Springfield.
———
IF
YOU GO:
LINCOLN
MUST-SEES
Abraham
Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum: Open 9 a.m.-5
p.m. daily. Admission is $12; discounts for children,
seniors, students and military (1-217-558-8934;