Over here, behind the building that stands on the corner of Main and Front Streets, is a lookalike imitation of the building which at one time served as the law offices of Wells, Colton, and my good friend, David Davis.
The more substantial building in the front was put up by James Miller, and its bricks were made right here in Bloomington. The hardware and glass were brought over in ox-drawn wagons from Pekin, and that was back in eighteen and forty-three. Judge Davis then borrowed a wall from Miller and put up his little office behind. This was a commercial enterprise for Miller, who rented out the lower floor of the Main Street building to a druggist, and the upper floors to some other lawyer friends of mine.
Those were good times in old Bloomington, and I looked forward to my twice-yearly visits while riding the circuit, because the other lawyers were so friendly, even Ashael Gridley, who had a reputation for not being the most genial man in town. Other friends who practiced out of this building were William Hanna, John W. Scott, and Squire Lawrence.
These men often opened up their quarters to us on the circuit, so we could have a place to sit and write our briefs. I remember once, when I had completed a declaration on only half a sheet of paper, the squire asked me why I had expended so little stationery. I replied that I found it in my best interest to make as few statements as possible, for the other side might make me prove 'em.
As you know, it was Judge Davis with whom I formed a deep and abiding friendship, and who I appointed to the Supreme Bench after some of my Republican backers in Illinois launched a little campaign on his behalf. You see, Judge Davis played a key role in getting me into the White House. In eighteen and sixty, he rented out the entire third floor of the Tremont House, one of the best hotels in Chicago, and turned it into a Lincoln for President headquarters for the duration of the Republican convention. That went a long way in securing my nomination.
Davis did this at his own considerable expense, and some would say mine too, believing he promised to give Simon Cameron the Treasury seat in my cabinet in return for Cameron's Pennsylvania delegation's votes for my nomination, and all this without my permission or my knowledge. I don't believe Davis did this, but many of the Pennsylvanians did, and that compromised my position, and I felt honor-bound to give him something. So he got the War Department, albeit not for long.
Now, it's no secret that Judge Davis wanted something in return for his hard work and expenditure of funds in securing the vote in my favor. But once elected president, I believe I had a calling higher than personal loyalty and friendship. I was required by oath to defend the Constitution and preserve the union of our states.
My election heralded the most perilous of times yet in our young country. Everything I said and every move I made would be recorded and remembered in the annals of history, and I had to make certain I was right and always acting in the best interest of our nation. So, when John Archibald Campbell resigned from the Supreme Court in eighteen and sixty-two, I repaid my political debt to Judge Davis and put him on the national bench, but not without a good deal of equivocation on my part. It was pretty well understood that whoever got that seat would be from my old section of the country.
That kind of narrowed my choices to Senator Orville Browning out of Quincy, Illinois, with whom I enjoyed a close, warm, and sincere friendship, and Judge David Davis, another good friend and political benefactor. It was not until after a good deal of fence riding and a personal appeal from another Bloomington friend, Leonard Swett, that I made the appointment. [fiddle music]
