The Farewell at the Great Western

The morning of February eleventh, eighteen sixty-one was cold and gray in Springfield. A crowd gathered at the Great Western Railroad depot before dawn. Lincoln had told people he was leaving for Washington the following day.

Word spread. By the time he arrived at the station, a crowd of neighbors had come to see him off. He stood on the rear platform of the train car and looked out at the faces.

He had known most of them for twenty-five years. He was fifty-one years old. He did not have prepared remarks.

He spoke for roughly two minutes, quietly enough that people at the edge of the crowd strained to hear. These are the words he said: 'My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe everything.

Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington.

Without the assistance of the Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well.

To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell.' The train pulled out. Lincoln never returned to Springfield alive.

He came back four years later in a funeral car draped in black.