“The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of [personal]rights and rights of property, between former masters and slaves and the connection heretofore existing between them, becomes that between employer and free laborer.”

According to historian Henry Louis Gates, Juneteenth, first celebrated in 1866, initially was an “occasion for gathering lost family members” and “measuring progress against freedom.”[1] In 1980, Juneteenth became aholiday in Texas, the first emancipation celebration granted official state recognition, through the efforts of legislator Al Edwards. Juneteenth is now aholiday in the District of Columbia and forty-seven states—all but Hawaii, North Dakota, and South Dakota.

“the picture...ought to be placed somewhere for public exhibition.”

New York artist James Burns depicts the “Death of Abraham Lincoln” on April 15, 1865, in the Petersen House, across 10^th Street from Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C. Mary Lincoln is prostrate with grief, leaning over Lincoln. Twenty-seven other figures are shown surrounding the bed, including the Lincolns’ oldest son Robert, members of the cabinet, Vice President Andrew Johnson, several doctors, Members of Congress, and others in various stages of shock and grief, along with military surgeons. The room was only 9½ by 17 feet. Lincoln had to be laid diagonally across the bed with his head propped up to allow him to breathe more easily. Only a few people could fit at any time, but everyone shown had visited at some point during the night.

“M^r John Eaton Jr. … having had charge of the freed-men … comes to me highly recommended by Gen. Grant, as you know, & also by Judge Swayne[1]of the U. S. Supreme Court.

On July 22, 1862, exactly a year before he wrote this letter, Lincoln read a draft of the Emancipation Proclamation to his cabinet, agreeing to Stanton’s advice to hold it back until the Union could claim a military victory. On September 22, after the Battle of Antietam, he issued a Preliminary Proclamation, stating that enslaved people in any areas still in rebellion would be freed, and that freed men would be welcomed into the armed forces of the United States. Once Lincoln issued the final Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, Secretary of War Edward Stanton worked to create a federal system to support freed slaves, and allow them to most effectively support the Union.

A list of stockholders, entirely in Lincoln’s hand, filed as evidence in his first significant railroad case. Lincoln’s own appearance in the shareholder list represents only the second known instance of a stock purchase by the future president. The Illinois Supreme Court’s ultimate ruling in favor of Lincoln and the railroad set an important legal precedent, upholding the binding nature of a stockholder’s contractual and financial obligations. “The decision, subsequently cited in twenty-five other cases throughout the United States, helped establish the principle that corporation charters could be altered in the public interest, and it established Lincoln as one of the most prominent and successful Illinois practitioners of railroad law” (Donald, p.155).

“Write back as soon as you get this, and if possible say something that will please me, for really I have not been pleased since I left you.”

Here, Lincoln perfectly demonstrates what Owens later described as deficiencies “in those little links which make up the chain of a woman’s happiness.”  Rather than expressing his feelings for Owens, Lincoln complains about his health and discusses political issues swirling in the Illinois General Assembly. Although inept at love, the letter offers rare insight into the young representative’s thoughts on a variety of political issues. In this highly important letter to Mary Owens, a self-absorbed Lincoln complains to his potential spouse of his health, both physical and mental, and discusses political issues to the point that he describes his own letter as “dry and stupid.” Perhaps more revealing than he realized, it illustrates the tension in Lincoln’s early life between matters of the head, with which he was comfortable, and matters of the heart, with which he clearly was not.