Introduction

From John Cribb, author of the acclaimed novel Old Abe, comes a new work of historical fiction that brings Abraham Lincoln to life as never before.

The Rail Splitter tells the story of Abraham Lincoln’s remarkable journey from a log cabin to the threshold of the White House—a journey that makes him one of America’s most beloved heroes. We walk beside him on every page of this spellbinding novel and come to know his hopes and struggles on his winding path to greatness.

The story begins with Lincoln’s youth on the frontier, where he grows up with an ax in one hand and book in the other, determined to make something of himself. He sets off on one adventure after another, from rafting down the Mississippi River to marching in an Indian war. When he is twenty-six, the girl he hopes to marry dies of fever. He spends days wandering the countryside in grief. A few years later, he purchases a ring inscribed with the words “Love Is Eternal” and enters a tempestuous marriage with Mary Todd.

Lincoln literally wrestles his way to prominence on the Illinois prairies. He teaches himself the law and enters the rough and tumble world of frontier politics. With Mary’s encouragement, he wins a term in the US Congress, but his political career falters. They are both devastated by the loss of a child. As arguments over slavery sweep the country, Lincoln finds something worth fighting for, and his debates with brash rival Stephen Douglas catapult him toward the White House.

Part coming-of-age story, part adventure story, part love story, and part rags-to-riches story, The Rail Splitter is the making of Abraham Lincoln. The story of the rawboned youth who goes from a log cabin to the White House is, in many ways, the great American story. The Rail Splitter reminds us that the country Lincoln loved is a place of wide-open dreams where extraordinary journeys unfold.

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Excerpt

Chapter 1

Summer 1826

The book was soaked through.

He knew before he reached for it, knew what had happened the instant the sound of water dripping somewhere near his pallet bed jerked him from sleep. It had stormed overnight, and the rain had found its way through a chink in the cabin loft.

Abraham half rose to pull the book from the ledge beside his bed. His fingers met a heavy wet mass lying in a small pool. A groan rose into his throat.

It ain’t mine to ruin, he thought.

Darkness filled the loft. The only light in the cabin came from low flames in the fireplace below, but the song of a wren fluting through a window told him the rain was almost done and, somewhere behind the thick Indiana woods, the sun was rising.

He crawled off his corn husk mattress, crouching low to avoid hitting his head on the rough-hewn rafters, pulled on his buckskin britches, and slipped into his moccasins. Three feet away, his stepbrother, John, grunted and rolled over.

Abraham picked up the soggy book and dropped his long legs through a hole in the loft floor. He grabbed a peg driven into the wall and scrambled down. His feet landed on the cabin’s plank floor with a soft thud.

The light from the fireplace touched a few wavering shapes in the room—a four-post feather bed, table, chairs, spinning wheel, corner cabinet, chest of drawers. He stepped to the hearth to open the book. The pages stuck together. He tried to separate two or three, but they began to disintegrate as he peeled them apart. His stomach churned at the thought of losing the precious words.

The cabin door opened, and his stepmother entered, toting a few pieces of wood in a bucket.

“Morning, Abe.”

Abraham gave her a stricken look and held out the volume.

“I borrowed it from Si Crawford. The rain came in and spoilt it. I’ve put books in that little cubby next to my bed lots of times. Water never got in before.”

She set down her load and moved to his side.

“Oh, Abe, that’s a pity.” She lit a small lamp, just a wick placed in a cup of hog grease, and held it up for a closer look. “Let’s set it beside the fire awhile. It’ll dry.”

“It won’t be the same. The pages will turn all wrinkly and stained.”

“Si will understand.”

“Well, I’d be mighty angry if it was my book.” He ran his fingers along the cover’s warped edges. “I have an idea to go over to his place and talk to him about it.”

She set down the lamp before answering.

“Why don’t you give that book a day or two to dry? It might turn out just fine.”

“I’d better go today. I’ve got to make it right with Si.”

John’s face appeared above their heads.

“Pa ain’t going to like that,” he called down from the loft. “He’s set on pulling fodder in the big field today.”

Abraham watched his stepbrother climb slowly down the ladder of pegs in the wall.

“I can’t help that,” he said. “I’ve got to go see Si about this book.”

His stepmother tried him one more time.

“Can’t you wait ’til tomorrow, Abe? Your father’s counting on you to help pull that fodder.”

“Pa won’t like this,” John announced again.

Abraham searched Sally Lincoln’s face. Her black hair, which she always wore curled, was beginning to show tinges of gray. But the blue-gray eyes shone with the strength and sympathy he had always known in her. A cross word or look had rarely passed between them in the years since she had come into his life.

“Don’t worry, Mama,” he said, breaking into a grin. “There’s nothing to pulling fodder, and John here knows more about nothing than any man alive. He can help Pa just fine.”

He snatched a cold corn pone from a wooden bowl on the table.

“I’ll go explain it to Pa.”

He pecked his stepmother on the cheek and stuffed the corn pone into his mouth. Book in hand, he stepped outside to face his father. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

What personal characteristics or virtues help young Lincoln make his way from a frontier log cabin to the threshold of the White House?

In what ways does growing up on the frontier help Abraham prepare to be President of the United States?

What effect did Anne Rutledge’s death have on Abraham? How might his life have been different if she had lived?

How would you describe Abraham’s courtship of Mary Todd and their marriage? In what ways were they different? In what ways similar?

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