Fifty Years of Public Service | Page 3

Brown, his two brothers-in-law, entered land in the same portion of the County of Tazewell, and at once, on their arrival from Kentucky, pitched their tents and began the erection of log cabins, in preparation for winter. Phillips was a large, vigorous man, both in body and mind. He was a man of the highest integrity, and soon became one of the leading citizens of Tazewell County, continuing so until his death. William Brown was a Methodist preacher and was a worthy example of the consistent minister of the Gospel of Christ. He was called upon by the people for many miles around to perform ceremonies on wedding occasions and, in time of sorrow, to preach at the funerals of departed friends.
My father lived longer than either Phillips or Brown. They both raised large families, and to-day the youngest son of Phillips-- the Hon. Isaac N. Phillips--is recognized as one of the able lawyers of the State, and is the reporter of the Supreme Court of Illinois. My father was a farmer, but he always took great interest in the affairs of the country, and especially of the State in which he lived. He was a Whig, and believed in Henry Clay. He took an active part in political campaigns, and was several times a member of the House of Representatives of the State Legislature, and once of the State Senate.
Tazewell County, in which he resided, became a very strong Whig county, the Whigs having their own way until the Free-soil party, which soon became the Republican party, took its place as against the Democratic party. When that time came, Tazewell, like Sangamon, became Democratic. Sangamon County, in which I live, and Tazewell County, in which I was raised, were both strong Whig counties while the Whig party survived; but when it died, the population being largely from Kentucky and other Southern States, naturally sympathized with the South on the question of slavery. They drifted into the Democratic party in large numbers, and gave the control to the Democracy for a time; and the two parties still struggle for control in both counties.
My father became well acquainted with Abraham Lincoln while the latter was a young man. The first time I ever heard of Lincoln, was when two men came to my father's house to consult with him on the question of employing an attorney to attend to a law case for them at the approaching term of the Circuit Court. I remember hearing my father say to them that if Judge Stephen T. Logan should be in attendance at court, they should employ him; but if he were not, a young man named Lincoln would be there, who would do just about as well. Readers will see by this that while Lincoln was yet a young man he was ranked among the foremost lawyers at the Bar. At that time Stephen A. Douglas was beginning to be heard from.
Judge Logan was one of the best lawyers of the Mississippi Valley. He was a Kentuckian by birth, and, as a lawyer, was a very great man. Douglas was a great statesman and a leader of men; a great debater, but, in my opinion, not a great lawyer. The law is a jealous mistress; there are no great lawyers who do not give undivided attention to its study, and Douglas devoted much time to public affairs.
On the arrival of my father at the grove where he had previously determined to locate his family, he pitched his tent near a little stream, then called Mud Creek, afterwards called Deer Creek, because it was a great resort for wild deer. He soon erected a log cabin and moved into it with his family. I was less than one year old when the family located in Illinois. We lived in the cabin for several years. It was not a single cabin, but there were two cabins connected together by a covered porch; which was a very pleasant arrangement in both summer and winter.
Finally, my father built a frame house. During all this time the wild deer were numerous, and often I have counted from the door from five to twenty deer feeding in a slough not a quarter of a mile away.
I never killed a deer. The beautiful animals always seemed to me so innocent that I had not the heart to shoot them.
The Winter of 1830-31 was long remembered by the early settlers of Illinois, and of all the now so-called Middle States, as the "winter of the deep snow." For months it was impossible to pass from one community to another in the country.
My education was obtained at the local schools and at the seminary at Mount Morris two hundred miles distant from my father's home.
In my boyhood years there were no