If Shields had not been precisely the kind of a man he was, the matter
might have been explained and settled amicably. But no, he must have
blood. He sent an insulting and peremptory challenge. When Lincoln
became convinced that a duel was necessary, he exercised his right, as
the challenged party, of choosing the weapons. He selected "broadswords
of the largest size." This was another triumph of humor. The midget of
an Irishman was to be pitted against the giant of six feet four inches,
who possessed the strength of a Hercules, and the weapons were--
"broadswords of the largest size."

The bloody party repaired to Alton, and thence to an island or sand-bar
on the Missouri side of the river. There a reconciliation was effected,
honor was satisfied all around, and they returned home in good spirits.
For some reason Lincoln was always ashamed of this farce. Why, we do
not know. It may have been because he was drawn into a situation in
which there was a possibility of his shedding human blood. And he who
was too tender-hearted to shoot wild game could not make light of that
situation.

The engagement between Lincoln and Miss Todd was renewed, and they were
quietly married at the home of the bride's sister, Mrs. Edwards,
November 4th, 1842. Lincoln made a loyal, true, indulgent husband. Mrs.
Lincoln made a home that was hospitable, cultured, unostentatious. They
lived together until the death of the husband, more than twenty-two
years later.

They had four children, all boys. Only the eldest, Robert Todd Lincoln,
grew to manhood. He has had a career which is, to say the least,
creditable to the name he bears. For a few months at the close of the