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雙語·林肯傳 32

所屬教程:譯林版·林肯傳

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2022年06月05日

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32

After she left the White House Mrs. Lincoln got into serious difficulties, and made an exhibition of herself that became national gossip.

In matters of household expense she was excessively penurious. It had long been customary for the Presidents to give a number of state dinners each season. But Mrs. Lincoln argued her husband into breaking the tradition, saying that these dinners were “very costly;” that these were war-times and public receptions would be more “economical.”

Lincoln had to remind her once that “we must think of something besides economy.”

When it came, however, to buying things that appealed to her vanity—such as dresses and jewelry—she not only forgot economy, but seemed bereft of all reason and indulged in a fantastic orgy of spending.

In 1861 she had come off the prairie, confidently expecting that as “Mrs. President” she would be the center of the glittering constellation of Washington society. But to her amazement and humiliation she found herself snubbed and ostracized by the haughty aristocrats of that Southern city. In their eyes, she, a Kentuckian, had been untrue to the South: she had married a crude, awkward “nigger-lover” who was making war upon them.

Besides, she had almost no likable personal qualities. She was, it must be admitted, a mean, common, envious, affected, mannerless virago.

Unable to attain social popularity herself, she was bitterly jealous of those who had achieved it. The then reigning queen of Washington society was the renowned beauty Adele Cutts Douglas, the woman who had married Mrs. Lincoln's former sweetheart, Stephen A. Douglas. The glamorous popularity of Mrs. Douglas and Salmon P. Chase's daughter, inflamed Mrs. Lincoln with envy, and she resolved to win social victories with money—money spent on clothes and jewelry for herself.

“To keep up appearances,” she told Elizabeth Keckley, “I must have money, more money than Mr. Lincoln can spare me. He is too honest to make a penny outside of his salary; consequently, I had, and still have, no alternative but to run in debt.”

In debt she plunged, to the extent of seventy thousand dollars! A staggering sum when we remember that Lincoln's salary as President was only twenty-five thousand, and that it would have taken every penny of his income for over two years and nine months to pay for her finery alone.

I have quoted several times from Elizabeth Keckley. She was an unusually intelligent negro woman who had bought her freedom and come to Washington to set up a dress-making shop. Within a short time she had the patronage of some of the capital's leading social figures.

From 1861 to 1865 she was with Mrs. Lincoln almost daily in the White House, making dresses and serving her as a personal maid. She finally became not only Mrs. Lincoln's confidante and adviser, but her most intimate friend. The night that Lincoln lay dying, the only person Mrs. Lincoln kept calling for was Elizabeth Keckley.

Fortunately for history, Mrs. Keckley wrote a book about her experiences. It has been out of print for half a century, but dilapidated copies can be purchased now and then from rare-book dealers for ten or twenty dollars. The title is rather long: “Behind the Scenes, by Elizabeth Keckley, Formerly a Slave, but More Recently Modiste and Friend to Mrs. Abraham Lincoln: Or Thirty Years a Slave and Four Years in the White House.”

Elizabeth Keckley records that in the summer of 1864, when Lincoln was running for a second term, “Mrs. Lincoln was almost crazy with fear and anxiety.”

Why? One of her New York creditors had threatened to sue her; and the possibility that Lincoln's political enemies might get wind of her debts and use them as political thunder in the bitter campaign, drove her almost to distraction.

“If he is reelected, I can keep him in ignorance of my affairs; but if he is defeated, then the bills will be sent in, and he will know all,” she sobbed hysterically.

“I could go down on my knees,” she cried to Lincoln “and plead for votes for you.”

“Mary,” he remonstrated, “I am afraid you will be punished for this overwhelming anxiety. If I am to be elected, it will be all right; if not, you must bear the disappointment.”

“And does Mr. Lincoln suspect how much you owe?” inquired Mrs. Keckley.

And here was Mrs. Lincoln's answer, as reported on page 150 of “Behind the Scenes:”

“God, no!—this was a favorite expression of hers [Mrs. Lincoln's]— and I would not have him suspect. If he knew that his wife was involved to the extent that she is, the knowledge would drive him mad.”

“The only happy feature of Lincoln's assassination,” says Mrs. Keckley, “was that he died in ignorance of these debts.”

He hadn't been in his grave a week before Mrs. Lincoln was trying to sell his shirts with his initials marked on them, offering them at a shop on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Seward, hearing about it, went, with a heavy heart, and bought up the lot himself.

When Mrs. Lincoln left the White House, she took with her a score of trunks and half a hundred packing-boxes.

That created a good deal of nasty talk.

She had already been repeatedly and publicly accused of swindling the United States Treasury by falsifying an expenseaccount for the entertainment of Prince Napoleon, and her enemies pointed out that though she had come to the Executive Mansion with only a few trunks, she was now leaving it with a whole car-load of stuff.... Why?... Was she looting the place? Had she stripped it bare of everything she could?

Even as late as October 6, 1867—almost two and a half years after she left Washington—the “Cleveland Herald,” speaking of Mrs. Lincoln, said:

“Let the country know that it required one hundred thousand dollars to make good the spoliation at the White House, and let it be proved who had the benefit of such plundering.”

True, a great many things were stolen from the White House during the reign of the “rosy empress,” but the fault was hardly hers. She made mistakes, of course: one of the first things she did was to discharge the steward and a number of the other employees, saying she was going to superintend the place herself, and put it on an economical basis.

She tried it, and the servants purloined almost everything except the door-knobs and the kitchen stove. The “Washington Star” for March 9, 1861, records that many of the guests who attended the first White House reception lost their overcoats and evening wraps. It wasn't long before even the White House furnishings were being carted away.

Fifty packing-boxes and a score of trunks! What was in them? Trash, for the most part: useless gifts, statuary, worthless pictures and books, wax wreaths, deer-heads, and a lot of old clothes and hats hopelessly outmoded—things she had worn back in Springfield years before.

“She had a passion,” says Mrs. Keckley, “for hoarding old things.”

While she was packing, her son Robert, recently graduated from Harvard, advised her to put a match to the old trumpery. When she scorned the idea, he said:

“I hope to heaven that the car that carries these boxes to Chicago catches fire and burns up all your old plunder.”

The morning Mrs. Lincoln drove away from the White House, “there was scarcely a friend to tell her good-by,” records Mrs. Keckley. “The silence was almost painful.”

Even Andrew Johnson, the new President, failed to bid her farewell. In fact, he never even wrote her a line of sympathy after the assassination. He knew that she despised him, and he reciprocated her feelings.

Absurd as it seems now in the light of history, Mrs. Lincoln firmly believed then that Andrew Johnson had been back of the plot to assassinate Lincoln.

With her two sons, Tad and Robert, Lincoln's widow traveled to Chicago, stopped for a week at the Tremont House, found it too expensive, and moved to some “small, plainly-furnished” rooms at a summer resort called Hyde Park.

Sobbing because she couldn't afford better living quarters, she refused to see or even correspond with any of her former friends or relatives, and settled down to teaching Tad to spell.

Tad had been his father's favorite. His real name was Thomas, but Lincoln had nicknamed him “Tad” or “Tadpole” because as a baby he had had an abnormally large head.

Tad usually slept with his father. The child would he around the office in the White House until he fell asleep, and then the President would shoulder him and carry him off to bed. Tad had always suffered from a slight impediment in his speech, and his father humored him; and, so with the ingenuity of a bright boy, he used his handicap as a foil to ward off attempts to educate him. He was now twelve years old, but he could neither read nor write.

Mrs. Keckley records that during his first spelling lesson, Tad spent ten minutes arguing that “a-p-e” spelled monkey. The word was illustrated with a small woodcut of what he believed to be a monkey, and it required the combined efforts of three people to convince him that he was wrong.

Mrs. Lincoln used every means in her power to persuade Congress to give her the hundred thousand dollars that Lincoln would have been paid had he lived out his second term. When Congress refused she was vitriolic in her denunciation of the “fiends” who had blocked her plans with “their infamous and villainous falsehoods.”

“The father of wickedness and lies,” she said, “will get these hoary-headed sinners when they pass away.”

Congress did finally give her twenty-two thousand—approximately the amount that would have been due Lincoln had he served the rest of that year. With this she bought and furnished a marble-front house in Chicago.

Two years elapsed, however, before Lincoln's estate was settled; and, during that time, her expenses mounted and her creditors howled. Presently she had to take in roomers; then boarders; and at last she was obliged to give up her home and move into a boarding-house, herself.

Her exchequer became more and more depleted, until, in September, 1867, she was, as she phrased it, “pressed in a most startling manner for means of subsistence.”

So she packed up a lot of her old clothes and laces and jewelry, and, with her face hidden under a heavy crepe veil, she rushed to New York incognita, registered as a “Mrs. Clark,” met Mrs. Keckley there, gathered up an armful of worn dresses, got into a carriage, drove over to the second-hand clothing dealers on Seventh Avenue, and tried to sell her wardrobe. But the prices offered were disappointingly low.

She next tried the firm of Brady & Keyes, diamond brokers, at 609 Broadway. Listening with amazement to her story, they said:

“Now listen, put your affairs in our hands, and we will raise a hundred thousand dollars for you in a few weeks.”

That sounded rosy; so she wrote, at their request, two or three letters, telling of her dire poverty.

Keyes flaunted these letters in the face of the Republican leaders, threatening to publish them unless he got cash.

But the only thing he got from these men was their opinion of Mrs. Lincoln.

Then she urged Brady & Keyes to mail a hundred and fifty thousand circulars, appealing to the generosity of people everywhere for aid; but it was well-nigh impossible to get prominent men to sign the letter.

Boiling now with wrath at the Republicans, she turned for help to Lincoln's enemies. The New York “World” was a Democratic paper that had once been suspended by government order, and its editor arrested because of its violent attacks on Lincoln. Through its columns Mrs. Lincoln pleaded poverty, admitting that she was trying to sell not only her old clothes, but even such trifles as “a parasol cover” and “two dress patterns.”

It was just before a state election; so the Democratic “World” printed a letter from her, fiercely denouncing such Republicans as Thurlow Weed, William H. Seward, and Henry J. Raymond of the “New York Times.”

With its tongue in its cheek, “The World” solemnly invited its Democratic readers to send in cash contributions to care for the abandoned and suffering widow of the first Republican President. There were few contributions.

Next she tried to get the colored people to raise money for her, urging Mrs. Keckley to throw her heart and soul into the undertaking, and promising that if the Negroes raised twenty-five thousand dollars Mrs. Keckley would get a “cut” of three hundred dollars a year during Mrs. Lincoln's life, and all of the twenty-five thousand dollars at Mrs. Lincoln's death.

Then Brady & Keyes advertised a sale of her clothes and jewelry. Crowds thronged to their store, handling the dresses, criticizing them, declaring that they were out of style, that they were absurdly high-priced, that they were “worn” and “jagged under the arms and at the bottom of the skirts,” and had “stains on the lining.”

Brady & Keyes also opened a subscription-book at their store, hoping that if the sightseers would not buy they might donate money for Mrs. Lincoln.

Finally in despair, the merchants took her clothes and jewels to Providence, Rhode Island, intending to set up an exhibition and charge twenty-five cents admission. The city authorities wouldn't hear of it.

Brady & Keyes did finally sell eight hundred and twenty-four dollars' worth of her effects, but they charged eight hundred and twenty dollars for their services and expenses.

Mrs. Lincoln's campaign to raise money for herself not only failed, it also brought upon her a storm of public condemnation. Throughout the campaign she made a disgraceful exhibition of herself—and so did the public.

She “has dishonored herself, her country and the memory of her late lamented husband,” cried the Albany “Journal.”

She was a liar and a thief—such was the accusation brought against her by Thurlow Weed in a letter to the “Commercial Advertiser.”

For years, back in Illinois, she had been “a terror to the village of Springfield,” her “eccentricities were common talk,” and “the patient Mr. Lincoln was a second Socrates within his own dwelling—” so thundered the “Hartford Evening Press.” But the “Journal” of Springfield stated editorially that for years it had been known that she was deranged, and that she should be pitied for all her strange acts.

“That dreadful woman, Mrs. Lincoln,” complained the Springfield, Massachusetts, “Republican,” “insists on thrusting her repugnant personality before the world to the great mortification of the nation.”

Mortified by these attacks, Mrs. Lincoln poured out her broken heart in a letter to Mrs. Keckley:

Robert came up last evening like a maniac and almost threatening his life, looking like death because the letters of “The World” were published in yesterday's paper.... I weep whilst I am writing. I pray for death this morning. Only my darling Taddie prevents my taking my life.

Estranged now from her sisters and kindred, she finally broke even with Robert, defying and maligning him so bitterly that certain passages of her letters had to be deleted before publication.

When Mrs. Lincoln was forty-nine years old, she wrote the Negro dressmaker: “I feel as if I had not a friend in the world save yourself.”

No other man in United States history has been so respected and loved as Abraham Lincoln; and possibly no other woman in United States history has been so fiercely denounced as his wife.

Less than a month after Mrs. Lincoln had tried to sell her old clothes, Lincoln's estate was settled. It amounted to $110,295, and was divided equally among Mrs. Lincoln and her two sons, each receiving $36,765.

Mrs. Lincoln now took Tad abroad and lived in solitude, reading French novels and avoiding all Americans.

Soon she was pleading poverty again. She petitioned the United States Senate to grant her a yearly pension of five thousand dollars. The bill was greeted in the Senate with hisses from the gallery and words of abuse from the floor.

“It is a sneaking fraud!” cried Senator Howell of Iowa.

“Mrs. Lincoln was not true to her husband!” shouted Senator Yates of Illinois. “She sympathized with the rebellion. She is not worthy of our charity.”

After months of delay and torrents of condemnation she was finally given three thousand a year.

In the summer of 1871 Tad died of typhoid fever, passing away in violent agony. Robert, her only remaining son, was married.

Alone, friendless, and in despair, Mary Lincoln became the prey of obsessions. One day in Jacksonville, Florida, she bought a cup of coffee and then refused to drink it, swearing it was poisoned.

Boarding a train for Chicago, she wired the family physician, imploring him to save Robert's life. But Robert was not ill. He met her at the station and spent a week with her at the Grand Pacific Hotel, hoping to quiet her.

Often in the middle of the night she would rush to his room, declaring that fiends were attempting to murder her, that Indians “were pulling wires out of her brain,” that “doctors were taking steel springs out of her head.”

In the daytime she visited the stores, making absurd purchases, paying, for example, three hundred dollars for lace curtains when she had no home in which to hang them.

With a heavy heart Robert Lincoln applied to the County Court of Chicago, for a trial of his mother's sanity. A jury of twelve men decided that she was insane, and she was confined in a private asylum at Batavia, Illinois.

At the end of thirteen months she was, unfortunately, released— released, but not cured. Then the poor, ailing woman went abroad to live among strangers, refusing to write Robert or let him know her address.

One day while living alone in Pau, France, she mounted a step-ladder to hang a picture above the fireplace; the ladder broke, and she fell, injuring her spinal cord. For a long time, she was unable even to walk.

Returning to her native land to die, she spent her last days at the home of her sister Mrs. Edwards, in Springfield, saying over and over: “You ought to pray now that I be taken to my husband and children.”

Although she then had six thousand dollars in cash and seventy-five thousand in government bonds, nevertheless her mind was constantly racked by absurd fears of poverty, and she was haunted by the fear that Robert, then Secretary of War, would be assassinated like his father.

Longing to escape from the harsh realities that pressed upon her, she shunned every one, closed her doors and windows, pulled down the shades, darkened her room, and lighted a candle even when the sun was shining bright.

“No urging,” says her physician, “would induce her to go out into the fresh air.”

And there, amidst the solitude and soft quiet of the candlelight, her memory doubtless winged its way back across the cruel years, and, dwelling at last among the cherished thoughts of her young womanhood, she imagined herself waltzing once more with Stephen A. Douglas, charmed by his gracious manner and listening to the rich music of his melodious vowels and clear-cut consonants.

At times she imagined that her other sweetheart, a young man named Lincoln—Abraham Lincoln—was coming to court her that night. True, he was only a poor, homely, struggling lawyer who slept in an attic above Speed's store, but she believed he might be President if she could stimulate him to try hard, and, eager to win his love, she longed to make herself beautiful for him. Although she had worn nothing but the deepest black for fifteen years, she would, at such times, slip down to the stores in Springfield; and, according to her physician, she purchased and piled up “l(fā)arge quantities of silks and dress goods in trunks and by the cart load, which she never used and which accumulated until it was really feared that the floor of the store room would give way.”

In 1882, on a peaceful summer evening, the poor, tired, tempestuous soul was given the release for which she had so often prayed. Following a paralytic stroke, she passed quietly away in her sister's house where, forty years before, Abraham Lincoln had put on her finger a ring bearing the words: “Love is eternal.”

32

離開白宮后,林肯夫人陷入了嚴(yán)重的困境,聲名掃地,成了公眾的談資。

在家庭日常開銷上,林肯夫人十分吝嗇。按照長久以來的傳統(tǒng),總統(tǒng)一家每個(gè)季度都要舉辦一定次數(shù)的國宴。但是林肯夫人卻強(qiáng)烈要求林肯打破傳統(tǒng),因?yàn)檫@些宴會(huì)“十分昂貴”,還說現(xiàn)在是戰(zhàn)時(shí),公眾招待會(huì)應(yīng)該“節(jié)儉一些”。

有一次林肯不得不提醒她:“除了節(jié)儉,我們還應(yīng)該考慮其他事情?!?/p>

然而,一旦涉及那些能夠滿足她虛榮心的東西,例如裙子和珠寶,她不但忘記了節(jié)儉,而且會(huì)喪失理智般沉浸在花錢的狂歡中。

一八六一年,她從大草原來到華盛頓,她自信地以為,作為“林肯夫人”,她一定能成為名流薈萃的華盛頓社交圈的中心。然而,她驚訝又屈辱地發(fā)現(xiàn),自己受到了這個(gè)南方城市中傲慢貴族的漠視和排斥。在南方貴族眼中,她是一個(gè)對(duì)南方不友好的肯塔基人,因?yàn)樗蘖艘粋€(gè)粗鄙笨拙的、將戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)強(qiáng)加在他們身上的“黑人愛好者”。

此外,她的性格也沒有任何討喜之處。必須承認(rèn)的是,她是一個(gè)吝嗇、普通、充滿嫉妒心、情緒很容易受到影響、毫無教養(yǎng)的潑婦。

她自己無法受到追捧,因此十分嫉恨那些受歡迎的名媛。當(dāng)時(shí)華盛頓社交圈的女王是著名的美人阿黛爾·卡茨·道格拉斯(Adèle Cutts Douglas),也是林肯夫人昔日的戀人史蒂芬·道格拉斯的夫人。道格拉斯夫人和薩蒙·蔡斯的女兒那無與倫比的受歡迎程度激起了林肯夫人的妒忌心,因此她決定用錢來給自己帶來名望——為自己買昂貴的衣服和首飾。

“為了撐場(chǎng)面,”她對(duì)伊麗莎白·凱克利說,“我必須要有錢。林肯先生給我的那些錢根本不夠用。他為人太誠實(shí)了,除了薪水,一分錢也不會(huì)貪。結(jié)果是,我不得不負(fù)債累累。”

林肯夫人的債務(wù)高達(dá)七萬美金。這是一個(gè)龐大的數(shù)字,因?yàn)榱挚献鳛榭偨y(tǒng)一年的薪水是兩萬五千美金。他必須不吃不喝兩年零九個(gè)月才能買得起她的那些奢侈品。

我好幾次都引用了伊麗莎白·凱克利的話。她是一位非常聰明的黑人女性。獲得自由后,她來到了華盛頓,開了一家裁縫店。沒過多久,她就得到了華盛頓名流的贊譽(yù)。

一八六一至一八六五年間,她幾乎每天都在白宮為林肯夫人做衣服,并像貼身女仆一樣伺候她的起居。最后,她不僅成了林肯夫人的知己和顧問,更成了林肯夫人最親密的伙伴。林肯中槍那晚,林肯夫人唯一呼喊的人便是伊麗莎白·凱克利。

值得慶幸的是,凱克利夫人將自己的經(jīng)歷寫成了一本書。這本書已絕版了半個(gè)世紀(jì),但是偶爾也能從善本商手中花費(fèi)十或二十美金買到一兩本殘破的復(fù)本。這本書的名字很長:《幕后——昔日的奴隸,今日的服裝店女老板,林肯夫人的密友伊麗莎白·凱克利為您講述她的三十年奴隸生涯和四年白宮生涯》。

伊麗莎白·凱克利寫道,一八六四年夏天,當(dāng)林肯為連任而忙碌的時(shí)候,“林肯夫人因恐懼和焦慮而陷入了瘋狂。”

為什么呢?林肯夫人的一位紐約債主威脅說要起訴她。若讓林肯的政敵聽到她負(fù)債累累的風(fēng)聲,他們一定會(huì)借此在激烈的競(jìng)選過程中攪起腥風(fēng)血雨。一想到這一點(diǎn),林肯夫人便焦慮得寢食難安。

“如果他能連任,那我就能瞞住他。可是如果他失敗了,他們就會(huì)寄賬單來,他馬上就會(huì)知道這一切?!彼沟桌锏乜拗f道。

“我會(huì)跪下為你祈禱,”她哭著對(duì)林肯說,“希望你能得到更多的選票?!?/p>

“瑪麗,”林肯責(zé)備道,“我擔(dān)心你會(huì)因?yàn)檫^分焦慮而倒下。如果我能連任,那固然很好,但如果不能,你也要承受得住失落?!?/p>

“林肯先生有沒有懷疑你在外面欠了錢?”凱克利夫人問道。

根據(jù)《幕后》第一百五十頁上的內(nèi)容,林肯夫人是這樣回答的:

“上帝啊,不行!”——這是林肯夫人最喜歡說的一句話——“我不會(huì)讓他懷疑的。如果他知道自己的妻子欠了那么多債,他會(huì)發(fā)瘋的。”

“林肯遭遇暗殺這件事唯一令人感到欣慰的是,”凱克利夫人寫道,“他至死也不知道這筆債務(wù)?!?/p>

林肯下葬后還不到一個(gè)星期,林肯夫人便將林肯那些繡著他名字首字母的襯衫拿到了賓夕法尼亞大街上的一間店鋪里,打算賣掉它們換錢。

蘇華德聽說后懷著沉重的心情跑去那家商店,買走了林肯所有的遺物。

林肯夫人離開白宮的時(shí)候,隨身帶走了二十個(gè)行李箱和五十個(gè)包裹。

這引起了極大的非議。

她早就因?yàn)閭卧煺写闷苼鲇H王的費(fèi)用賬單騙取國庫錢財(cái)而受到了公開又持續(xù)的譴責(zé)。同時(shí)她的敵人們也指出,當(dāng)初她來到白宮時(shí)只帶了幾個(gè)行李箱,現(xiàn)在卻帶著一車的東西離開……這些東西是從哪里來的?她有沒有趁亂洗劫白宮?她是否拿走了所有能拿的東西?

即便到了一八六七年十月六日——她離開華盛頓兩年半后——《克利夫蘭先驅(qū)報(bào)》在提到林肯夫人時(shí)是這樣說的:

“要讓全國人民知道,白宮被掠走的東西價(jià)值十萬美金。要證明給民眾看,這一掠奪行動(dòng)到底便宜了誰?”

誠然,在“緋色皇后”掌權(quán)期間,白宮確實(shí)丟失了很多東西,但也很難說是林肯夫人的錯(cuò)。當(dāng)然,她犯了錯(cuò)誤:一到白宮后,她做的第一件事便是辭退了管家和一些員工,聲稱出于節(jié)約考慮,她表示自己可以管好這個(gè)地方。

于是她接管了白宮的內(nèi)務(wù)。除了門把手和廚房的爐子,仆人們幾乎把白宮偷空了。一八六一年三月九日,《華盛頓之星》報(bào)道說,很多第一次參加白宮招待會(huì)的客人都說他們的外套和寬罩衫不見了。沒過多久,甚至連白宮的家具也被運(yùn)了出去。

五十個(gè)包裹和二十個(gè)行李箱!里面都裝了些什么?大多數(shù)都是垃圾:沒用的禮品、雕像、不值錢的畫和書、蠟花環(huán)、鹿頭,還有一大堆已經(jīng)完全過時(shí)的衣物——那些她在春田市時(shí)穿的衣服。

“她對(duì)囤積舊物,”凱克利夫人說,“有著一種別樣的熱情?!?/p>

當(dāng)林肯夫人收拾行李的時(shí)候,她那剛從哈佛畢業(yè)的兒子羅伯特建議她燒了那些中看不中用的垃圾。她對(duì)此嗤之以鼻。羅伯特說:

“我真希望載著這些包裹的馬車在去芝加哥的路上著火,然后燒光你的這些戰(zhàn)利品?!?/p>

林肯夫人離開白宮那天早晨,“沒有一個(gè)朋友來為她送行?!眲P克利夫人寫道,“當(dāng)時(shí)的情景冷清得令人難受。”

即便是新上任的總統(tǒng)安德魯·約翰遜也沒有來和她告別。事實(shí)上,林肯暗殺事件過后,他甚至連一句安慰的話都沒有寫給她。他知道林肯夫人討厭自己,因此也用行動(dòng)回應(yīng)了她。

雖然現(xiàn)在看來很荒唐,但在當(dāng)時(shí),林肯夫人深信安德魯·約翰遜是林肯暗殺事件背后的主使。

林肯的遺孀帶著她的兩個(gè)兒子泰德和羅伯特去往芝加哥。他們?cè)诿商仫埖甓毫袅艘粋€(gè)星期,發(fā)現(xiàn)花銷太貴了,于是搬到了海德公園避暑山莊內(nèi)“狹小、陳設(shè)簡(jiǎn)單”的房間里。

因?yàn)槌袚?dān)不起優(yōu)越生活的花銷,她黯然落淚。她和以前的親戚朋友斷絕了聯(lián)系,安頓下來教泰德讀書寫字。

泰德是林肯最寵愛的兒子。他的真名叫托馬斯,但是林肯總是叫他“泰德”或者“小蝌蚪”,因?yàn)樗錾鷷r(shí)腦袋大得出奇。

泰德通常都和爸爸一起睡。有的時(shí)候他躺在白宮的辦公室里,躺著躺著便睡著了,然后總統(tǒng)就會(huì)將他扛在肩上放到床上去。泰德有一點(diǎn)兒口吃,于是林肯總喜歡逗他。泰德很聰明,他以自己的口吃為托詞拒絕了各種受教育的機(jī)會(huì)。因此他現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)十二歲了,但仍舊不識(shí)字。

凱克利夫人寫道,泰德第一次上拼寫課的時(shí)候,花了十分鐘爭(zhēng)辯猿應(yīng)該寫成猴子。他曾在一塊木版畫上見過這個(gè)詞,他一直認(rèn)為那塊木板上畫的是猴子。最后,三個(gè)人費(fèi)了好大勁才說服了他。

林肯夫人想盡一切辦法說服國會(huì)向她支付十萬美金,理由是若林肯活著結(jié)束連任,他就能拿到那么多薪水。國會(huì)拒絕了她的請(qǐng)求,于是她刻薄地咒罵那些阻礙她計(jì)劃的“朋友”是“聲名狼藉、無惡不作的騙子”。

“這些頭發(fā)花白的罪人死的時(shí)候,”她說,“邪惡之父會(huì)把他們帶向地獄?!?/p>

最后,國會(huì)給了她兩萬兩千美金——相當(dāng)于林肯工作到當(dāng)年年底的薪水。她用這筆錢在芝加哥買了一棟前院鋪著大理石的房子。

兩年過去了,但是林肯的遺產(chǎn)還沒有處理妥當(dāng)。在這期間,她的花銷不斷增加,她的債主也非常生氣。現(xiàn)在,她不得不接受房客,然后是寄宿的人。最后她不得不放棄了自己的房子,搬去了寄宿式旅館。

她的錢眼看就要用完了,到了一八六七年九月,用她自己的話說,她已經(jīng)“為了尋求生活物資而處于一種十分窘迫的境地”。

于是,她打包了自己的舊衣物、飾物和珠寶,戴上厚重的面紗,趕到紐約,化名“克拉克夫人”。她與凱克利夫人碰了面,抱著一包舊裙子,雇了輛馬車,駛向第七大道上的一家二手衣物店。但是店主的出價(jià)低得令人十分失望。

接著她又來到了百老匯大街609號(hào)的布雷迪-凱斯公司。這是一家鉆石代理公司。聽了林肯夫人令人震驚的故事后,他們說:

“聽著,把你的東西給我們,我們會(huì)在幾個(gè)星期內(nèi)給你弄十萬美金?!?/p>

這聽起來很不錯(cuò),于是她按照他們的要求,寫了兩三頁紙,痛訴自己貧困交加的境況。

凱斯將這幾張紙拿到了共和黨領(lǐng)導(dǎo)人面前,威脅他們說如果不給他現(xiàn)金,就將它們發(fā)表。

但是共和黨的領(lǐng)導(dǎo)人只是評(píng)價(jià)了林肯夫人幾句,其他什么也沒做。

接著林肯夫人要求布雷迪-凱斯公司替她向外界發(fā)送十五萬份傳單,向全社會(huì)的慷慨人士求助,但是沒有哪位重要人物愿意為林肯夫人簽名。

林肯夫人對(duì)共和黨怒火中燒,于是轉(zhuǎn)而向林肯的敵人求助。紐約的《世界報(bào)》是一家民主黨報(bào)紙,曾一度被政府下令停刊。它的主編也因猛烈抨擊林肯而遭到了逮捕。林肯夫人在《世界報(bào)》上訴說著自己的貧困,坦言自己打算賣掉舊衣物,以及像“一個(gè)陽傘套和兩套裙裝底樣”這類瑣碎的東西。

當(dāng)時(shí)正是大選前夕,于是民主黨的《世界報(bào)》刊登了林肯夫人的信,強(qiáng)烈譴責(zé)共和黨的瑟洛·威德、威廉·蘇華德以及《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》的亨利·雷蒙德(Henry J.Raymond)。

為了挖苦共和黨,《世界報(bào)》莊重地邀請(qǐng)民主黨讀者為共和黨第一任總統(tǒng)那被遺棄的、生活窘迫的遺孀捐款。然而,捐款的數(shù)額很少。

接著,林肯夫人又打算發(fā)動(dòng)黑人為自己籌錢。她敦促凱克利夫人全身心地投入這件事中,并承諾若能從黑人那兒籌集兩萬五千美金,那么凱克利夫人就能在林肯夫人有生之年每年得到三百美金的好處費(fèi),并在林肯夫人去世后能拿到全部的捐款。

接著布雷迪-凱斯公司刊登了廣告,要在店內(nèi)售賣林肯夫人的舊衣物和珠寶。人們聞?dòng)嵍鴣?,拿著裙子評(píng)頭論足,說這些裙子早就過時(shí)了,說這些衣服標(biāo)價(jià)太高,還說這些衣服“十分破舊,腋下和裙底都磨損了,內(nèi)里還有污漬”。

布雷迪-凱斯公司還在店鋪內(nèi)設(shè)置了一個(gè)認(rèn)捐簿,希望來訪的客人即便不愿意買下那些衣物,也能為林肯夫人捐一點(diǎn)兒錢。

最后,兩位商人失望地將她的衣服和珠寶帶到了羅得島州的普羅維登斯,打算在那里舉辦一場(chǎng)收費(fèi)展覽,每張票二十五美分。但是普羅維登斯市當(dāng)局根本聽都不想聽這件事。

林肯夫人的衣物最終賣了八百二十四美金,但是布雷迪-凱斯公司卻收取了八百二十美金的服務(wù)費(fèi)。

林肯夫人的籌錢運(yùn)動(dòng)不僅失敗了,而且還引起了公眾強(qiáng)烈的譴責(zé)。在整個(gè)過程中,她不顧廉恥地展出自己,公眾也毫不猶豫地展露了他們無情的一面。

“她不僅侮辱了她自己,侮辱了她的國家,還侮辱了她死去的丈夫。”《奧爾巴尼日?qǐng)?bào)》這樣寫道。

她是個(gè)騙子,還是一個(gè)小偷——瑟洛·威德在給《商業(yè)廣告雜志》的信中這樣譴責(zé)她道。

多年來,在伊利諾伊州,林肯夫人一直是“春田市的噩夢(mèng)”,“她那古怪的脾氣是人們津津樂道的話題”,“林肯先生在家中的忍耐力堪比第二個(gè)蘇格拉底”——《哈特福特晚間新聞報(bào)》如是說。但是《春田市日?qǐng)?bào)》主編卻寫道,多年來大家都知道林肯夫人精神不大正常,因此對(duì)于她那些奇怪的舉動(dòng),我們應(yīng)該報(bào)以同情。

“林肯夫人那個(gè)可怕的女人,”春田市的《共和黨報(bào)》抱怨道,“堅(jiān)持要將自己那令人討厭的一面呈現(xiàn)在世人面前,從而成為全國的笑柄?!?/p>

面對(duì)這些辱罵,林肯夫人將自己破碎的心在信中展現(xiàn)給了凱克利夫人:

羅伯特昨晚回來時(shí)好像瘋了一樣,面如死灰,似乎沒命了一般。因?yàn)樽蛱臁妒澜鐖?bào)》把那些信登了出來……我一邊哭一邊給你寫信。我祈禱明天早晨讓我死掉算了。但是我放不下我的小泰德。

在與姐妹和其他親屬疏遠(yuǎn)了之后,她最終和羅伯特也決裂了。她公然地挖苦、誹謗自己的兒子,以至于她的信件必須將寫羅伯特的段落刪減后才能發(fā)表。

林肯夫人四十九歲時(shí)給她的黑人裁縫寫信說道:“我覺得在這個(gè)世上,除了你,我再也沒有朋友了?!?/p>

在美國歷史上,沒有哪位總統(tǒng)像林肯那樣受到了如此崇高的尊敬和愛戴,同時(shí),大概也沒有哪位總統(tǒng)夫人像林肯夫人那樣,受到了如此強(qiáng)烈的譴責(zé)和唾棄。

林肯夫人想方設(shè)法變賣二手衣物后一個(gè)月,林肯的遺產(chǎn)處理好了。林肯的遺產(chǎn)共約十一萬零兩百九十五美金,被林肯夫人和她的兩個(gè)兒子平分了,每人三萬六千七百六十五美金。

林肯夫人將泰德送出國后獨(dú)自隱居,讀法國小說,不和任何美國人接觸。

沒過多久,她又開始哭窮了。她向美國參議院請(qǐng)?jiān)福竺磕晗蛩Ц段迩澜鸬膿嵝艚?。這個(gè)要求招來了參議院上上下下里里外外的噓聲和鄙視。

“這是無恥的敲詐!”愛荷華州的參議員豪厄爾這樣說道。

“她和她的丈夫根本不是一路人。”伊利諾伊州的參議員耶茨說,“她同情叛軍,根本不值得我們捐助?!?/p>

經(jīng)過數(shù)月的耽擱和譴責(zé),她最終得到了每年三千美金的退休金。

一八七一年夏天,泰德在極度的痛苦中死于傷寒。同時(shí),林肯夫人剩下的唯一的兒子羅伯特也結(jié)了婚。

孤獨(dú),沒有朋友,絕望。就這樣,林肯夫人成了強(qiáng)迫癥的獵物。有一天,在佛羅里達(dá)州的杰克遜維爾,她買了一杯咖啡,但拒絕喝掉,因?yàn)樗龍?jiān)持認(rèn)為里面下了毒。

她登上回芝加哥的火車時(shí)給家庭醫(yī)生發(fā)了電報(bào),懇求他挽救羅伯特的生命。但是羅伯特并沒有生病。羅伯特在車站接到了她,陪她在太平洋大酒店住了一個(gè)星期,一直試圖安撫她。

半夜的時(shí)候,她總是沖到羅伯特的房間,聲稱有惡魔要謀害她,她說印第安人“從她腦子里拔出了金屬絲”,還說醫(yī)生“從她腦子里拿出了鋼發(fā)條”。

白天的時(shí)候,她便四處逛街,買一些匪夷所思的東西。例如,她花三百美金買了一套奢華的蕾絲窗簾,可她連掛的地方都沒有。

羅伯特·林肯帶著沉重的心情向芝加哥地方法院申請(qǐng)判定他母親的精神狀況。由十二人組成的陪審團(tuán)最終判定她患有精神疾病,接著她便被送往了伊利諾伊州巴達(dá)維亞的一家私立精神病院。

十三個(gè)月后,她被放了出來,但并未痊愈。于是這個(gè)生病的可憐女人去了國外,和陌生人住在一起,甚至拒絕給羅伯特寫信,不讓他知道自己的地址。

她在法國波城獨(dú)居的時(shí)候,有一天她爬上梯子,想在壁爐上方掛一幅畫。結(jié)果梯子壞了,她摔了下來,摔傷了脊髓,因此很長一段時(shí)間她都無法走路。

林肯夫人回到了故土,在春田市自己姐姐愛德華夫人家中度過了人生最后的時(shí)光。彌留之際她不斷地說:“你現(xiàn)在應(yīng)該祈禱,保佑我很快就能見到我的丈夫和兒子們。”

盡管當(dāng)時(shí)她有六千美金現(xiàn)金以及七萬五千美金政府債券,但她仍然荒謬地害怕貧窮,同時(shí)也總是擔(dān)心當(dāng)時(shí)的戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)部長羅伯特會(huì)像他的父親那樣遭遇暗殺。

她不愿面對(duì)艱難的現(xiàn)實(shí),于是將自己關(guān)在房間里,什么人都不見。她鎖上門,關(guān)上窗,拉上窗簾,不讓陽光照進(jìn)房間,然后在房間里點(diǎn)上一支蠟燭,即便當(dāng)時(shí)外面正艷陽高照。

“無論怎么勸,”她的私人醫(yī)生說,“她都不肯出來呼吸一下新鮮空氣?!?/p>

在那孤單而昏黃的燭光下,她的記憶越過那些殘酷的歲月,回到了還是少女時(shí)的韶華歲月。她想著自己再一次和斯蒂芬·道格拉斯共舞華爾茲,沉醉在他那親切的舉止和渾厚動(dòng)聽的嗓音中。

偶爾她也會(huì)想起自己的另一位心上人,那位名叫林肯——亞伯拉罕·林肯的小伙子在那天晚上向她示愛。確實(shí),他既沒錢,長得也不好看,只是一個(gè)住在斯皮德雜貨鋪樓上的小律師,但是她相信,在自己的鞭策下,這個(gè)小伙子一定能成為總統(tǒng)。于是她努力取悅他,最后贏得了他的婚姻。雖然十五年來她只穿黑色的衣服,但是她會(huì)在特定的時(shí)候前往春田市的商店。據(jù)她的醫(yī)生回憶,她買了“一大堆絲綢衣物和成箱的裙子,每次都是滿滿一馬車。但她從來都不穿,只是堆在那里,真擔(dān)心儲(chǔ)藏室的地板承受不住塌掉”。

一八八二年,在一個(gè)平靜的夏夜,這個(gè)疲憊而暴虐的可憐靈魂終于得到了解脫。這是她期盼已久的事情。因中風(fēng)而全身癱瘓后,她在姐姐家中平靜地離世了。四十年前,就是在這里,亞伯拉罕·林肯為她戴上了那枚刻著“愛是永恒”的戒指。

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