The year that marked the advent of Indiana into national statehood, witnessed the humble and unheralded entrance of Thomas Lincoln and his family into Spencer County. The State was a haven for the pioneer of peaceable disposition. The danger of the Indian no longer haunted the land. Still life was a grim struggle, hewing the way through solid forests to reach the new home, cutting the trees to build the log cabin, patiently raising the first crop of corn. It took time to construct the trail and then the road. Yet with marvelous rapidity, these early settlers soon caused the church to appear, the schoolhouse and the hamlet.[14]
Party politics is largely the product of a settled community. When men are engrossed in establishing a home matters of national significance seem of little moment. The kitchen is more important to the log cabin than the parlor. So the most pressing problems of a pioneer settlement are those of local concern. Conventions and parties were unknown for some time. Any man could proclaim his candidacy for office. Voters were known as "Jones-men" or "Smith-men," after the candidate of their choice. The earliest manifestations of party spirit arose over the slavery question. Even under territorial government, delegates to Congress were called "Slavery" or "Anti-Slavery." During the canvass in which John Quincy Adams was selected as President, the Whig and Democratic parties were little recognized in Indiana. On election day, the workers shouted, "Here are Jackson tickets! Here are Clay!"[15] The defeat of Jackson hastened the growth of partisanship. With the introduction of party politics came resort to trickery in elections.[16]
Politics was a recreation to the early settler. When the newspaper was a luxury, when there were few forms of amusement, it was an indulgence as well as an educational influence to listen to the orator on the questions of the day. Politics was the school of the nation, and in it there were few truants.
The following incident illustrates a primitive political gathering. School was dismissed at the time of the militia election, and so the teacher took part in the festivities. A tin cup of whiskey was passed around twice, then a two gallon jug and bucket of water. A warm discussion arose about Indiana accepting the land donated by Congress for the construction of the Wabash and Erie Canals. Dr. Stone was most noisy against accepting. "Friends of the canal chose me," said the teacher, "to reply." "I was 'half seas over' from free and frequent use of the cup. I was puzzled to know what to do. Soon a fence rail was slipped into the worn fence near by and a wash tub turned up and placed upon it. Two or three seized hold of me and placed me on the eminence amid shouts of the friends of the canal. I could scarcely preserve my equilibrium. My lips refused utterance. After a long pause, I smote my breast with my hand, and said, 'I feel too full for utterance.' (I meant whiskey—they, full of indignation at the Dr.'s effrontery of opposition). The ruse worked like a charm. They shouted, 'Let him have it!' I raised my finger and pointed a moment steadily at the Doctor. They shouted, 'Hit him again.' I made my first speech twenty-five minutes. The Dr. talked again thirty minutes. I closed the debate and there was a viva voce vote in favor of the canal."[17]
As the early settler succeeded the hunter, agriculture became the main means of subsistence, but it could not become a source of profit without improved methods of transportation. The movement for internal improvements was to have a profound influence on the course of events in the West. The splendid enthusiasm that lately concerned itself with a hostile environment was now employed in competing for the markets of the East. The Westerner was not accustomed to wander in the realm of dreams, yet he grew romantic in contemplating the resources of his fertile soil, and believed the time would come when nations would pay tribute to his products. The completion of the Erie Canal marked a distinct epoch in this movement. It increased prices in some cases more than two hundred per cent. This advance called for better shipping facilities. As times became better, the people of the West became the missionaries of the internal improvement system.[18]
Nothing so vividly revealed this enthusiasm as the reception afforded Governor Clinton when he visited Ohio in 1825. He was hailed as a hero, as a friend, as a benefactor. A contemporary observer thus described the occasion:
"The grave and the gay, the man of gray hairs and the ruddy-faced youth, matrons and maidens, and even lisping children, joined to tell his worth, and on his virtues dwell, to hail his approach and to welcome his arrival. Every street, where he passed, was thronged with multitudes, and the windows were filled with the beautiful ladies of Ohio, waving their snowy white handkerchiefs, and casting flowers on the pavement where he was to pass on it." The Governor was deeply affected by such an unusual demonstration, and even shed tears in the presence of his worshippers.[19]
A vast system of internal improvements in Indiana was the fruition of a campaign of more than a decade. It was an unfailing argument of those seeking political preferment. The construction of roads and canals was urged as one of the fundamental purposes of human society. This policy was declared to be the highway from poverty to prosperity. It fairly became the political religion of the day. Indiana, in 1836, started with rejoicing on the path that was before long to involve it in disasters that led it close to the chasm of bankruptcy and repudiation.
Spencer County was in the southern part of the State, bordering on the Ohio River. The country was very rough and covered with forests, sparsely inhabited and poorly adapted for prosperous farming. There being no market for the products of the soil, the most primitive methods in agriculture were in operation. Wild turkeys and deer were had at the door of every man's cabin. Bears, wild-cats, even panthers, were still in evidence.
Thomas Lincoln, though he often changed his home, did not modify his character. He remained to the end a shiftless man of roving disposition without effectual ambition. A carpenter by trade, while other men built substantial homes in the wilderness, he was content to live in a primitive log cabin without windows, floor or furniture. It was only the influence of his second wife that secured those urgent improvements. A man of supreme physical strength, slow to anger, yet dangerous when once aroused, he was not without deep affection. Still he did not hesitate to knock his inquisitive son off the fence for answering travelers' questions. He was a master in the telling of stories. It was his chief accomplishment, the main gift that his son owed to him. The nature of his mind is somewhat shown by his rambling religious opinions. In Kentucky he was a Free Will Baptist; in Indiana he espoused the cause of Presbyterianism, and in Illinois he became a Campbellite. A relative quaintly observes that happiness was the end of life with him.[20] John Hanks, the uncle of Lincoln, was the most sturdy of his relatives; yet, this same Hanks was so illiterate that when Lincoln became President, he could not endow him with an Indian Agency.