🎭 Abraham Lincoln’s Favorite Line from Hamlet Wasn’t “To Be”

James H. Hackett

Part 1 of the Lincoln & the Actor Series

In the summer of 1863, with the Civil War raging and the nation’s future uncertain, Abraham Lincoln took a quiet moment to write a fan letter—not to a general or a governor, but to an actor: James H. Hackett.

Hackett was a celebrated international Shakespearean performer, renowned for his portrayal of Sir John Falstaff—the roguish, comic knight from Henry IV. Lincoln, a lifelong admirer of Shakespeare, had seen Hackett’s performance in Washington and was moved enough to send a note of praise. What followed was a warm, literary exchange that touched on theater, politics, and even a Davy Crockett tall tale. [1]

Hackett as Falstaff

“O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven…” — Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 3

In his August 1863 letter, Lincoln thanked Hackett for a book and reflected on his performance. But tucked inside that letter was a literary confession—one that reveals Lincoln’s moral depth and his unexpected taste in Shakespeare.

“Unlike you gentlemen of the profession, I think the soliloquy in Hamlet commencing ‘O, my offence is rank’ surpasses that commencing ‘To be, or not to be.’” [1]

Wait—Lincoln preferred Claudius’s soliloquy?

Yes. The one in Act 3, Scene 3 where the villainous King Claudius, who has murdered his brother to seize the throne and marry the queen, tries to pray but can’t. His guilt is overwhelming, and his desire to keep the crown and the queen blocks true repentance.

“My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent.”

Claudius wants forgiveness—but he’s unwilling to give up what he gained through sin. It’s a moment of spiritual paralysis, where conscience collides with ambition. And Lincoln saw something profound in that struggle.

💡 Why Lincoln Might Have Preferred It

Unlike the famous “To be, or not to be” soliloquy, which is philosophical and abstract, Claudius’s speech is raw, personal, and morally urgent. Lincoln, who carried the weight of war, death, and a divided nation, may have found deeper resonance in a speech about guilt, conscience, and the cost of power.

It’s a soliloquy about moral reckoning—not just existential dread. And Lincoln, ever the moralist, likely saw in Claudius’s torment a reflection of the stakes of leadership.

It’s not hard to see why. Lincoln’s entire presidency was defined by moral complexity. He had to make decisions that cost lives, challenged laws, and reshape the nation. He knew what it meant to wrestle with conscience—and to do so publicly.

This letter to Hackett isn’t just a literary aside—it’s a glimpse into Lincoln’s soul. A president who found clarity not in philosophy, but in the agony of accountability.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Next up: What happens when Lincoln's private letter goes public—and the press pounces. 👉 Read Part 2: The Letter That Leaked.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Lincoln, A. (1864) Abraham Lincoln papers: Series 1. General Correspondence. 1833 to 1916: James H. Hackett to Abraham Lincoln, Tuesday, Davy Crockett anecdote. August 2. [Manuscript/Mixed Material] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/mal3500900/, November 12, 2025.

 

🌾 Sarah Lincoln Grigsby: The Sister Who Shaped a President

 

Headstone for Sarah Lincoln Grigsby
Abraham Lincoln's sister
Old Pigeon cemetery in modern day Lincoln State Park, IN

Before the White House, before the debates, before the war—there was Sarah.

Born on February 10, 1807, in Elizabethtown, Kentucky, Sarah Lincoln Grigsby was Abraham Lincoln’s older sister and one of the most important people in his early life. She was his first teacher, his closest companion, and—briefly—his neighbor as they built adult lives just miles apart in the Indiana wilderness.

📚 A Childhood of Learning and Labor

Sarah and Abraham attended subscription schools together in Kentucky, learning from teachers like Zachariah Riney and Caleb Hazel. From their mother Nancy, Sarah learned spinning, soap-making, and cooking over an open fire. But perhaps most memorably, she and Abraham listened to travelers’ tales along the Louisville–Nashville road that passed in front of their cabin—stories that stirred young imaginations and planted seeds of curiosity.

Unlike many frontier children, Sarah received a surprising amount of education. She attended multiple schools into her late teens, balancing domestic work with learning—a rare privilege for a pioneer girl.

🕯 Loss and Responsibility

In 1816, the Lincolns moved to Indiana. Two years earlier, while still in Kentucky, the family had suffered another loss: Sarah and Abraham’s infant brother, Thomas Jr., died shortly after birth. Then in 1818, tragedy struck again—Nancy Lincoln died of milk sickness, and eleven-year-old Sarah helped prepare her mother’s body for burial.

With her father grieving and her brother still a child, Sarah took on the household burdens—and cared for their orphaned cousin Dennis Hanks as well.

When Thomas Lincoln remarried, Sarah had to adjust to a new stepmother and three step-siblings. Fortunately, Sarah Bush Johnston brought warmth and relief, easing Sarah’s workload and expanding the family’s circle of affection.

💍 Marriage and Tragedy

On August 2, 1826, Sarah married Aaron Grigsby, a neighbor from Spencer County. The couple settled just two miles from the Lincoln cabin, and Abraham often visited. But tensions simmered: Lincoln reportedly believed the Grigsby family mistreated Sarah and looked down on her.

Nine months into the marriage, Sarah became pregnant. Complications during childbirth claimed both her life and that of her infant. A neighbor recalled hearing her cry out for her father—but help came too late.

Sarah died on January 20, 1828, at just twenty-one years old.

🕊 Legacy and Love

Sarah was buried with her infant in her arms at Old Pigeon Cemetery, near the Little Pigeon Baptist Church she had joined just two years earlier. Her husband Aaron was later buried beside her.

For Abraham Lincoln, the loss was profound. Their bond had been deep—“close companions,” one neighbor said, “a great deal alike in temperament.” Sarah had likely helped him learn his letters, comforted him through grief, and modeled the kindness and resilience that would become hallmarks of his character.

Her death left a scar. Lincoln blamed the Grigsby family for seeking help too late to save her and the baby. He carried the bitterness for years.

Sarah Lincoln Grigsby never lived to see her brother become president. But she helped shape the man who would. In her short life, she embodied the quiet strength of frontier women—working, learning, loving, and enduring. And in Abraham Lincoln’s heart, she remained a guiding light.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Here's the story about Sarah's and Abraham’s little brother, Tommy.

📚 Works Cited

Burlingame, Michael (2008) Abraham Lincoln: A Life, Volume I. Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press. pp. 44-46.

Donald, David Herbert (1995), Lincoln New York, NY: Simon & Schuster. pp. 33-35.

Six True Stories of Abraham Lincoln's Grit

“There Was a Man -- Abe Lincoln Licks Jack Armstrong"
by Harold Von Schmidt,
July 1949 issue of Esquire Magazine

During their first debate on August 21, 1858, in Ottawa, Illinois, Stephen Douglas made this remark:

“Lincoln is one of those peculiar men who perform with admirable skill everything which they undertake...He could beat any of the boys wrestling...and the dignity and impartiality with which he presided at a horse race or fist fight, excited the admiration and won the praise of everybody that was present and participated

Though it wasn’t meant as praise, Douglas inadvertently captured the dichotomy that was Abraham Lincoln: toughest, nicest, roughest, kindest, strongest, most sensible, man on the frontier. Those who admired intellect and character respected him. Those who revered toughness and physical prowess were devoted to him.

Lincoln’s contemporaries—William Herndon, Henry Clay Whitney, Colonel Andrew McClure, and others—recounted these stories not as curiosities, but as essential threads in the fabric of his complex legacy.

The pattern is always the same: Lincoln was a reluctant participant. But when the moment called for it—whether to defend a friend, protect a woman’s dignity, or confront gangs of bullies bent on injustice—he didn’t hesitate. He waded right in.

Here are six stories—part history, part folklore—that show Lincoln at his most physical, principled, and unforgettable.

These elements of Lincoln's story have became part of American folklore.

Here are six of Lincoln’s finest moments.

1. The Armstrong Throwdown (New Salem)

Lincoln didn’t seek out fights—but when challenged, he met the moment with strength and composure.

Jack Armstrong, leader of the Clary’s Grove Boys—a rough-and-rowdy gang known for testing newcomers—was the strongest man on the Sangamon River. Lincoln, new to town and working for Mr. Offutt, was rumored to be able to outrun, outwrestle, or outwork any man in the county. Armstrong’s crew demanded a match.

Lincoln tried to avoid it. But the pressure mounted, and the two men wrestled. When Armstrong resorted to foul play, Lincoln’s patience snapped. He seized Armstrong by the neck and shook him like a child. The crowd, mostly Armstrong’s men, looked ready to pounce. Lincoln backed up against Offutt’s store and calmly awaited the attack.

Armstrong stepped forward, shook Lincoln’s hand, and declared:

“Boys, Abe Lincoln is the best fellow that ever broke into this settlement. He shall be one of us.”

From that day on, Armstrong and the Clary’s Grove Boys were Lincoln’s loyal allies. Lincoln didn’t just win the match—he won their respect.

2. The Indian Standoff (Black Hawk War)

During the Black Hawk War, a peaceful Native American arrived at Lincoln’s camp with a safe-conduct letter. The men, inflamed by war tensions, rushed to kill him.

Lincoln stepped between them and their victim. His men had never seen him so angry.

“Men,” he said, “this must not be done! He must not be killed by us!”

One soldier called him a coward. Lincoln stared him down:

“If any man thinks I am a coward, let him test it. Choose your weapons!”

No one did.

Years later, Lincoln reflected that his life and character had been at stake—and that he had to forget he was an officer and assert himself as a man. His men weren’t soldiers, just armed citizens. Arresting them would have sparked mutiny. But Lincoln’s moral authority held.

He didn’t throw a punch. He didn’t need to.

3. The Pappsville Breeches Toss

Lincoln’s first campaign speech nearly turned into a brawl.

At Pappsville, just west of Springfield, Lincoln saw a friend getting roughed up in the crowd. He stepped down from the platform, pushed through the mob, grabbed the attacker by the neck and breeches, and tossed him ten feet.

Then, without missing a beat, he climbed back on stage and began:

“Gentlemen and Fellow-Citizens, I presume you all know who I am. I am humble Abraham Lincoln…”

It was classic Lincoln: loyal, theatrical, and completely unshaken.

4. The Duel That Never Happened (Springfield)

When Lincoln mocked James Shields in print, Shields demanded satisfaction and challenged Lincoln to a duel. Lincoln accepted the challenge—but chose broadswords and a comically long dueling distance.

He trained methodically and wrote detailed instructions for the fight, including a plank between them that neither could cross. It was absurd. It was brilliant.

When asked why he chose broadswords, Lincoln replied:

“To tell you the truth, Linder, I didn’t want to kill Shields... and furthermore, I didn’t want the damned fellow to kill me.”

The duel was called off. Lincoln’s wit and restraint won the day.

5. The Smartweed Smackdown (New Salem)

A man entered Offutt’s store, cursing and provoking Lincoln in front of two women. Lincoln asked him to stop. He didn’t.

Lincoln told him to wait until the women left. Then they stepped outside.

Lincoln threw him to the ground, held him like a child, and rubbed smartweed into his face and eyes until the man bellowed with pain. Then Lincoln fetched water, washed his face, and did everything he could to ease his suffering.

The man became a lifelong friend.

Lincoln didn’t fight out of anger. He fought to make a point—and then made peace.

6. The Thompson Fight (Black Hawk War)

During the Black Hawk War, Lincoln wrestled Nathan “Dow” Thompson of Union County—a man he later called “the strongest man I ever met.”

They wrestled. Lincoln was thrown. Then thrown again.

A hundred men ripped off their coats, ready to fight. Lincoln raised his voice:

“Boys, this man can throw me fairly, if he didn’t do it this time; so let’s give up that I was beat fairly.”

The crowd calmed. The fight ended with dignity.

Lincoln lost the match—but won the moment.

Final Bell

These stories have become part of America’s folklore. Lincoln wasn’t a brawler. He wasn’t showy. He didn’t go looking for trouble.

But as Henry Clay Whitney, Lincoln’s friend and biographer, cautioned:

“Although he could endure many insults without resentment, it need not be supposed that Lincoln was a man to brook an unequivocal insult… he was an utter stranger to fear.”

When the moment called for it, Lincoln waded right in. Whether it was a bully in New Salem or a nation on the brink of collapse, he met the moment with courage, clarity, and resolve.

And he did it, again and again.

Call it courage. Call it charisma. 

Or just call it what it was—Abraham Lincoln.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

Browne, Francis F. (1913) The Every-day Life of Abraham Lincoln. Chicago, IL : Browne & Howell Co.

Burlingame, Michael. (2008) Abraham Lincoln A Life: Volume One. Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press.

"First Debate with Stephen A. Douglas at Ottawa, Illinois, August 21, 1858". Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 3 [Aug. 21, 1858-Mar. 4, 1860]. In the University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed November 9, 2025.

"Lincoln Before Politics". Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum and Library Blog. Retrieved November 9, 2025.

McClure, Alexander K. (1901) Lincoln's Yarns and Stories. Chicago,IL: The John Winston Company.

McNamara, Robert. "Was Abraham Lincoln Really a Wrestler?" ThoughtCo, May 9, 2025. Retrieved November 9, 2025.

Whitney, Henry C. (1892) Life on the Circuit with Lincoln. Boston, MA: Estes and Lauriat, Publishers.

 

Abraham Lincoln’s First Campaign Speech Started with a Fight

 

Before he was a lawyer, before he was president, before he was a legend… Abraham Lincoln was just a guy who knew how to stand up for his friends and win over a crowd.

After the Black Hawk War, Lincoln returned to New Salem with a growing reputation and a nomination for the Illinois State Legislature. His military service had lasted just three months, but it left a strong impression on the people around him.

His first campaign speech was set for Pappsville, about eleven miles west of Springfield. But before Lincoln could speak, a fight broke out in the crowd. Not a political one. A real one. Fists. Elbows. Chaos. Lincoln saw one of his friends getting roughed up. That didn’t sit right. He didn’t hesitate—he jumped in.

Leaping off the stage, he pushed through the crowd, found the man who wouldn’t back down, and—according to the story—“grabbed him by the nape of the neck and the seat of his breeches, tossing him ‘ten or twelve feet easily.’” [1]

Then, as if nothing had happened, Lincoln climbed up onto the platform and began:

“Gentlemen and Fellow-Citizens, I presume you all know who I am. I am humble Abraham Lincoln…”

It’s such a Lincoln moment—loyal, direct, and a little bit theatrical. He cleared the stage, then owned it. No fuss. All business. A little bruising. A lot of charisma.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 This Lincoln-to-the-rescue moment wasn’t a one-off. There was another time he dropped through a trapdoor to save a friend from a hostile crowd.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Browne, Francis F. (1913) The Every-day Life of Abraham Lincoln. Chicago, IL : Browne & Howell Co. p. 41.

🎬 A TikTok Storyboard: Abraham Lincoln's Almanac Trial

"Lincoln for the Defense"
Lithograph, 1962
Norman Rockwell

🌕 A Courtroom Drama with a Moonrise Twist

It’s 1858. A man named Duff Armstrong is on trial for murder. The key witness swears he saw the crime by moonlight. The stakes are high. The courtroom is tense. And Abraham Lincoln—defending the accused—is about to drop the most iconic mic in legal history.

Lincoln agreed to defend Duff Armstrong out of deep personal loyalty—even while preparing for the high-stakes Lincoln-Douglas debates set to begin just weeks later. Duff was the son of Jack and Hannah Armstrong, close friends from Lincoln’s early days in New Salem. Jack had once stood up for Lincoln against his own gang after losing to him in a wrestling match. Lincoln never forgot it.

If Lincoln had TikTok, this trial would’ve gone viral.

📱 TikTok Scroll Summary: What Lincoln Would've Dropped

Scene	TikTok Format	Caption
Witness testifies	POV video	“I saw the murder by moonlight…”
Lincoln flips open almanac	Reaction video	“Moon was down. Case closed.”
Judge’s stunned silence	Stitch	“When your evidence gets eclipsed…”
Lincoln’s closing remarks	Dramatic monologue	“Let facts—not fear—decide.”
Duff Armstrong acquitted	Celebration edit	“Free my guy. #JusticeServed”

🎶 Soundtrack Ideas

• “Clair de Lune” for moonlight irony

• “Dramatic sting” for the almanac reveal

• “Listen to the Mockingbird” for emotional tone

• Old-time fiddle loop for courtroom ambiance

• “Truth Hurts” (instrumental) for Lincoln’s closing

Pair these with TicTocs below.

❓Why This Trial

Lincoln didn’t just win the case—he rewrote the rules of courtroom drama. He used science, logic, and empathy to dismantle fear and prejudice. He defended a friend’s son not just with facts, but with moral clarity.

And he did it with style.

🎥 TikTok Storyboard

🎥 TikTok 1: “When your dad’s dying wish is to call in a favor from Abe Lincoln…”

• Format: Dramatic reenactment

• Caption: “POV: Your dad’s last words are ‘Get Lincoln.’”

• Audio: Slow piano + heart monitor beep

• Visuals: Hannah Armstrong writing a letter by candlelight

• Text overlay: “Dear Mr. Lincoln…”

🎥 TikTok 2: Lincoln’s DM energy, 1858 edition

• Format: Screenshot-style text message reveal

• Caption: “When Abe texts back immediately 💬”

• Audio: Typing sounds + lo-fi beat

• Text overlay (Lincoln’s letter):

  “I can hardly believe he is capable of the crime alleged…” “Your kindness to me in adverse circumstances…” “I offer my humble service, gratuitously.”

• Vibe: Loyal, heartfelt, honorable

🎥 TikTok 3: “POV: You’re the witness and Lincoln just pulled out an almanac”

• Format: POV courtroom drama

• Caption: “You said you saw it by moonlight? Let’s check the moonrise chart 📚🌚”

• Audio: Dramatic sting + “Oh no no no” remix

• Visuals: Lincoln calmly flipping open the 1857 almanac

• Text overlay: “Moon was down. Case dismissed.”

🎥 TikTok 4: “Courtroom fit check: Union edition”

• Format: Fit check / transition trend

• Caption: “Black suit. Stovepipe hat. Moral compass.”

• Audio: “Fashion Week” by Steel Banglez

• Visuals: Lincoln walking into court in slow motion

• Hashtags: #FitCheck #LawyerTok #UnionDrip

🎥 TikTok 5: “Duff Armstrong when the jury says ‘Not guilty’”

• Format: Celebration edit

• Caption: “Free my guy. #JusticeServed”

• Audio: “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” by Kanye (instrumental)

• Visuals: Duff hugging Lincoln, courtroom erupts

• Text overlay: “When your lawyer is Honest Abe himself.”

🎥 TikTok 6: “Lincoln’s closing argument, but make it a monologue”

• Format: Dramatic solo

• Caption: “Let facts—not fear—decide.”

• Audio: Emotional orchestral swell

• Visuals: Lincoln addressing the jury, candlelight flickering

• Text overlay: “Justice is the constant and perpetual will to render to each his due.”

🎥 TikTok 7: “Almanac Trial Recap: TL;DR”

• Format: Carousel or slideshow

• Caption: “How Lincoln used science, loyalty, and logic to save a life.”

• Audio: “History Repeating” by Propellerheads

• Slides:

  1. Jack Armstrong’s dying wish

  2. Hannah’s letter

  3. Lincoln’s reply

  4. The moonlight testimony

  5. The almanac reveal

  6. Duff walks free

🎥 TikTok 8: “Would Lincoln  really be on TikTok?”

• Format: Stitch with your original post

• Caption: “He already had the storytelling chops. We just gave him the ring light.”

• Audio:  “History Has Its Eyes on You” – from Hamilton

• Visuals: Cut to a sepia-tone close-up of Lincoln at the podium, eyes steady, mid-speech with subtle ring light glow added to the edges—modern meets timeless

• Overlay Text: “Same storyteller. New platform.”

TikTok 9: “History hits different when Abe’s got a ring light 💡”

• Format: Recap montage

• Caption: “Fun? Yes. Fiction? Nope. All of this actually happened.”

• Audio: “Nonstop” by Drake (instrumental) or a lo-fi remix of “Battle Hymn of the Republic”

• Visuals:

  • Quick cuts of each TikTok moment: the almanac flip, the courtroom fit check, the moon chart

  • Ends with Lincoln looking into the camera, adjusting his hat

• Text overlay: “History, but make it scrollable.”

🎥 TikTok 9 (Alternate): “Fun with facts. That’s the assignment.”

• Format: Creator voiceover

• Caption: “This isn’t fanfic. It’s just history with better lighting.”

• Audio: Chill beat + voiceover

• Script:

  “Everything you just saw? Real trial. Real almanac. Real Abe. History doesn’t need rewriting. Just reimagining.”

• CTA: “Follow for more ways to see the past in a new light.”

🎩 Outro: History, Reframed

No, this blog isn’t switching to a TikTok format. We just wanted to show that teaching—or talking—about Abraham Lincoln factually can still grab the interest of every generation.

We didn’t rewrite history—we just gave it a better frame rate. The Almanac Trial really happened. Lincoln really flipped an almanac to dismantle false testimony. And he really did it mid-campaign, for a friend’s son, for free.

This is what storytelling looks like when facts lead and creativity follows.

History hits different when Abe’s got a ring light 💡

Try it...they'll like it.

Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller archives—re-imagined

Mac

🎩 Did you like the innovative look at a Lincoln event factually re-imaged in a TicToc format? Well, here's a humorous What if? post you'll enjoy. Read: What if?: Abraham Lincoln in the Age of TikToc.

Or if you want another quirky story, how about The Honest Abe You Didn’t Know: Handball Hustler?

What if?: Abraham Lincoln in the Age of TikToc

 

Abe Lincoln's selfie.
No filter. No Photoshop.
Just 19th-century vibes and 21st-century sass.
Lincoln was ahead of his time.
(photo from Americ's Best Pics and Videos)

📹 A ring light on a timeless president

Imagine Honest Abe with a ring light and a phone full of drafts. Would he lip-sync Shakespeare? Drop hot takes on the Emancipation Proclamation? Or post handball trick shots with Ward Hill Lamon?

Maybe he didn’t have a ring light, but he had the attention. And he knew how to use it.

Lincoln had the storytelling chops, the dry wit, and the emotional depth to go viral. He wouldn’t use TikTok for dances—but for story drops: moral reflections, mini speeches, and maybe a how-to session with Mathew Brady on lighting and angles.

He loved getting his picture taken—more than 130 times. He told stories with warmth, wit, and devastating clarity. He had a flair for drama, a gift for brevity, and a deep understanding of how to connect with people.

If Abraham Lincoln were alive today, would he be on TikTok? We think yes. And here’s what that might look like. Enjoy!

🎩 Lincoln’s TikTok Persona

• Username: @HonestAbe1860

• Bio: Tall, honest, and ugly. Just here to preserve the Union one TikTok at a time. 

• Vibe: Thoughtful, witty, emotionally resonant. A mix of storytelling, satire, and moral clarity—with a dash of dry humor and some frontier grit thrown in.

🎥 Content Lincoln Would Create

• POV Videos “POV: You just signed the Emancipation Proclamation.” “POV: You’re Mary Todd and I just said we’re going to the theater.”

• Hot Takes “Why compromise isn’t weakness.” “The real reason I grew the beard.”

• Behind-the-Scenes “Cabinet drama: Seward vs. Stanton edition.” “How I wrote the Gettysburg Address in under 300 words.”

• Challenges Handball trick shots with Ward Hill Lamon. “Beat me in wrestling and I’ll abolish your curfew.”

• Music Moments Reacting to ‘Dixie’ like: ‘We captured it, folks.’ Singing ‘Jimmy Crack Corn’ with a banjo filter.

📱 TikToks Lincoln Would Totally Drop

• 🎩 “The Almanac Trial”
• 📜 “POV: You just got elected president and the first state seceded”
• 🕊️ “Sad violin over ‘With malice toward none…’”
• 🏀 “Handball challenge: and I’ll let you borrow my stovepipe hat”
• 🎶 “Duet with Frederick Douglass: ‘Tell ’em, Fred.’”

Would he be shadowbanned for too much gravitas? Or become the most-followed account in history for his Gettysburg mic drop?

📚 Cameo Mention: The Almanac Trial

One of Lincoln’s most TikTok-worthy moments? The Almanac Trial. Imagine him calmly flipping to a moonrise chart while a witness claims to have seen a murder by moonlight.

“Moon was down. Case dismissed.”

We’ve told that story in full in an another post—TikTok-style. [See below.]

🎩 Abe’s Got That Main Character Energy

Lincoln’s quirks make him relatable. His emotional depth makes him timeless. And his love of storytelling makes him the perfect candidate for modern social media formats. This isn’t just fun—it’s a way to reimagine history for a new generation.

Whether you’re a TikTok regular or just TikTok-curious, imagining Lincoln in this space reminds us that even the most iconic figures were, at heart, human. And humans love to connect.

That’s all for today. Lincoln out 🎩

Mac

History hits different when Abe’s got a ring light 💡

🎩 Did you like this What if? look at Abraham Lincoln re-imagined as a TicToc user? Well, here's a post about an actual Lincoln event that we fashioned in a TicTok storyboard format. It's a food-for-thought look at making Lincoln and history more fun. 

Like for Part 2 👀: A TicToc Storyboard: Abraham Lincoln's Almanac Trial.

Or if you want a quirky story about our sixteenth president, how about The Honest Abe You Didn’t Know: Handball Hustler?

🎧 Abraham Lincoln’s Music Playlist: A Mixtape of Memory and Melody

He didn’t stream it—but he would’ve loved it.

Abraham Lincoln couldn’t carry a tune, didn’t play an instrument, and once described himself as “unmusical.” But music moved him deeply. From comic banjo ditties to tear-stained ballads, these were the songs that stirred the soul of a man carrying the weight of a nation.

This playlist isn’t just entertainment—it’s emotional archaeology. A mixtape of memory and melody, curated not for performance, but for feeling.

It's a window into Lincoln’s inner world.

🎧 Lincoln’s Listening Habits

Abraham Lincoln preferred "parlor music" performances—especially from his friend Ward Hill Lamon, who traveled with a banjo and a repertoire of ballads. Lincoln used music as emotional release, often requesting songs late at night during the war. Though he didn’t perform, he listened with intensity, sometimes moved to tears. His playlist wasn’t about entertainment—it was about feeling. These songs gave him solace, stirred his patriotism, and reminded him of home. In a time of national fracture, music helped hold him together.

📱 Lincoln’s Playlist: Side A

Each track here was either requested by Lincoln, deeply moved him, or became part of his emotional landscape. These songs helped him carry grief, find laughter, and remember who he was before the war. They reveal a man of deep feeling, quiet reflection, and rollicking humor. illustrative of this phase of Mr. Lincoln's character,—the blending of the mirthful and the melancholy in his singular love of music and verse.

Together, they form the soundtrack of a soul. 

📀 Track 1: “Twenty Years Ago”

“I visited the old churchyard, and took some flowers to strew / Upon the graves of these we loved, some twenty years ago.”

This is Lincoln’s favorite. A ballad of childhood and loss that moved him to tears. Lamon sang it near the Antietam battlefield, and Lincoln quietly broke.

📀 Track 2: “The Blue Juniata”

“Wild roved an Indian girl, bright Alfarata, / Where sweep the waters of the blue Juniata…”

Written in 1844, this was one of the most popular parlor songs of the 19th century—and the first major hit by an American woman, Marion Dix Sullivan. A sentimental ballad about Alfarata, a Native American maiden singing of her warrior by the Juniata River, it later inspired the name of Alpharetta, Georgia. Lincoln often requested it; the song brought him visible comfort during the war.

📀 Track 3: “Ben Bolt”

"Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,—Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown,"

Thomas Dunn English wrote the poem "Ben Bolt" in 1842, and it was set to music by Nelson Kneass in 1848. It's a nostalgic song of fading youth and lost love. Its themes echoed Lincoln’s emotional scars, especially the death of Ann Rutledge.

📀 Track 4: “The Lament of the Irish Emigrant”

“There’s nothing left to care for now, / Since my poor Mary died.”

The song reflects the deep sorrow and nostalgia of an Irish emigrant who mourns the death of his beloved wife, Mary, while preparing to leave his homeland for a new life abroad. This song hit Lincoln particularly hard—especially the stanza containing the  lines above.

📀 Track 5: “Home! Sweet Home!”

“Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, / Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.”

A popular 19th-century song adapted from American actor and dramatist John Howard Payne's 1823 opera. The song's melody was composed by Englishman Henry Bishop. The lyrics tugged at Lincoln’s homesick heart. He reportedly wept when it was performed at the White House.

📀 Track 6: “The Doxology (Old Hundredth)"

 “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow…”

A solemn hymn Lincoln likely heard in church and at public gatherings. The tune—Old Hundredth—dates back to the 16th century and was traditionally paired with Psalm 100. Its most familiar lyrics begin with the above line.

The melody’s reverent simplicity matched Lincoln’s spiritual temperament and quiet moral grounding.

📀 Track 7: “The Sword of Bunker Hill”

“I leave you, mark me, mark me now— / The Sword of Bunker Hill.”

A stirring patriotic ballad—written during the Civil War Era (1861) by William Ross and music by Bernard Covert—that tells the story of a dying Revolutionary War veteran passing his sword and his legacy to his son. Lincoln admired its reverence for sacrifice and national memory.

📀 Track 8: “Dixie”

"Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter, / Makes your fat a little fatter; / Look away!  Look away!  Look away!  Dixie Land."

Loved by many, despised by others, “Dixie” is still among the most recognizable of all American songs.  Ironically written by a Northerner, Daniel Decatur Emmett, “Dixie” debuted in New York in 1859 and quickly became a Southern favorite—eventually the unofficial anthem of the Confederacy. Yet Union bands also played it, and Lincoln counted it among his favorites—but it was NOT his fav. After the war, he asked a band to perform it at the White House, saying:

"I have always thought 'Dixie' one of the best tunes I have ever heard.  Our adversaries over the way attempted to appropriate it, but I insisted yesterday that we fairly captured it…I now request the band to favor me with its performance."  (April 10, 1865)

📀 Track 9: “Listen to the Mockingbird”

“She’s sleeping in the valley, / And the mockingbird is singing where she lies.”

 A very popular and wistful parlor song about memory and mourning, this 1855 song tells of a singer mourning his sweetheart, now buried beneath the mockingbird’s song. Lincoln was especially fond of it.

📀 Track 10: “The Blue Tail Fly (Jimmie Crack Corn)

“They lay him under a simmon tree / His epitaph is there to see / 'Beneath this stone I'm forced to lie / Victim of de blue-tail fly.' / Jimmie crack corn an' I don't care"

A rollicking, comic folk song Lincoln often requested to lift his spirits. Also known as “Jimmy Crack Corn,” it tells the story of a slave mourning his master’s death—possibly caused by a pesky fly. Lincoln used it as emotional relief, asking Ward Hill Lamon to sing it during moments of deep melancholy. Its playful absurdity made it a favorite antidote.

🎭 Lincoln’s Comic Relief: The Ditties That Broke the Spell

Lincoln didn’t just cry to music—he laughed with it too. When melancholy crept in, he’d ask Lamon to sing comic ditties like “Picayune Butler” or parody tunes like “Life on the Ocean Wave.” These weren’t playlist staples, but they were emotional lifelines—used to jolt him out of sorrow and restore his humor.

He once said Lamon’s “rudeness of kind intent” was exactly what he needed.

🎵 Track Spotlight: “Twenty Years Ago”

Ward Hill Lamon, Lincoln’s close friend and musical companion, called this “the little sad song” Lincoln loved above all others. A simple ballad about childhood, lost love, and the passage of time, it touched the deepest part of Lincoln’s grief and often moved him to tears—on the Illinois circuit and in the White House.

“I visited the old churchyard, and took some flowers to strew / Upon the graves of these we loved, some twenty years ago."

Lamon described Lincoln’s connection to the song with quiet reverence:

“[H]e loved simple ballads and ditties, such as the common people sing… but no one in the list touched his great heart as did the song of ‘Twenty Years Ago.’ Many a time… have I seen him in tears while I was rendering, in my poor way, that homely melody.”

“My lids have long been dry, Tom, but tears came to my eyes; / I thought of her I loved so well, those early broken ties…”

This wasn’t just nostalgia—it was grief, reflection, and the quiet ache of memory. Lincoln didn’t sing, but he listened with his whole heart. Lamon recalled Lincoln and others sitting in silence, overcome by the song’s sorrow.

”But none were left to greet me, Tom, and few were left to know, / Who played with us upon the green, some twenty years ago.” 

It wasn’t grand or operatic—it was humble, nostalgic, and deeply human. Just like Lincoln.

🎤 Final Track: Lincoln, Unplugged

So there you have it—Abraham Lincoln’s emotional mixtape. No earbuds, no Spotify, just a banjo, a few ballads, and a president who felt everything deeply. He didn’t stream it, but he lived it. From tear-stained hymns to comic ditties about flies, Lincoln’s playlist reminds us that even the most stoic leaders need a soundtrack.

If you’re ever feeling presidential-level melancholy, try “Twenty Years Ago.” If you just need to crack a smile, cue up “The Blue-Tailed Fly.” And if you want to reclaim something with swagger, blast “Dixie” and call it a win.

Lincoln didn’t just lead a nation—he listened to one. Loudly, emotionally, and sometimes with a banjo.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

[This post is lovingly dedicated to my wife, who sparked the whole idea with one brilliant question—posed to a husband who clearly had no clue: “What kind of music did Lincoln like?” Her blank-stare moment became this playlist. Thanks Ag, for asking the perfect question.]

🎩 Lincoln's loved the arts. In fact, he defended, what local preachers called "The Devil's Workshop". Read: The Devil’s Workshop? Abraham Lincoln Defends the Arts

📚 Works Cited

Most of the above information used in this posot came from Lamon, Ward Hill. Ed. Dorothy Lamon Teillard. (1911) Recollections of Abraham Lincoln 1847-1865. Washington, D.C.: Published by the Editor.

The Devil’s Workshop? Abraham Lincoln Defends the Arts

Joseph Jefferson (left)
1894 photo by Benjamin J. Falk
(Courtesy Library of Congress)

Some stories slip through the cracks of history—not because they’re small, but because they’re quiet. This one begins in a muddy Illinois winter, with a troupe of actors, a makeshift theater, and a town caught between revival and rebellion. It’s a story about the performing arts, politics, and the kind of help that arrives without fanfare. 

The kind that shifts a moment—and maybe a town

It begins in the winter of 1839, in Springfield, Illinois. The legislature was in session. The streets were muddy. And a traveling troupe of actors had just arrived with a bold idea: they would build a theater.

Not rent one. Build one.

It was a gamble. They’d made some money in the weeks leading up to Springfield, and their manager—a man with more grit than caution—decided to invest it all. A lot was leased, ground was broken, and a wooden structure rose from the frozen earth. No paint. No ornamentation. Just a roof, four walls, and a stage.

One actor later said it looked “like a large dry-goods box with a roof.” But to them, it was a temple.

Then came the blow.

A religious revival was sweeping through town. The pulpit thundered against the “Devil’s workshop” rising near the square. And through a bit of political maneuvering, the city council passed a new law: a heavy license fee on theatrical performances—so high it was effectively a ban.o

The actors were stunned. Their funds were tied up in the building. The town was full of potential patrons. And now, they were barred from opening their doors.

That’s when a young lawyer came knocking.

He’d heard of the injustice and offered his help. No fee. Just a desire, he said, “to see fair play.”

The case was brought before the council. The young man stood to speak.

He didn’t thunder. He didn’t scold. He didn't posture. He told stories.

He traced the history of the theater from the days of Thespis, who performed in a cart, to the present. He spoke of acting and humor, of the human need for reflection and release. He peppered his speech with anecdotes, and soon the council chamber was echoing with laughter.

He didn’t plead. He persuaded.

And when he was done, the council voted. The tax was lifted. The curtain would rise.

The actors never forgot him. Many years later, one of them—Joseph Jefferson—wrote about that night in his memoir. He remembered the humor, the fairness, and the quiet resolve.

He remembered the way the council chamber filled with laughter. He remembered the way that curtain did, indeed, rise.

And Jefferson remembered the man, buried now near Springfield.

His name was Abraham Lincoln.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Speaking of the arts—did you know Lincoln loved music? 

He couldn’t sing or play, but he wept with the songs and laughed with the lyrics. It moved him deeply, even though he couldn’t carry a tune. For a playlist of his favs, read: Abraham Lincoln’s Music Playlist: A Mixtape of Memory and Melody.

Afterword: Who was Joseph Jefferson?

Born in Philadelphia in 1829, Joseph Jefferson III came from a long line of performers. He made his stage debut at the age of three and spent most of his life in the theater. Though he played many roles, it was his adaptation of Rip Van Winkle that made him a household name. He toured with the play for decades, refining the character and bringing it to life for audiences across the country.

Jefferson was known not just for his comic timing and expressive style, but for his deep love of the craft. He became a symbol of American theater in its early days—when stages were still being built from scratch and actors traveled from town to town with little more than props and hope.

He died in Palm Beach, Florida in 1905, but his legacy lives on. The Joseph Jefferson Awards, established in Chicago, still honor excellence in theater today

📚 Works Cited

[1] Joseph Jefferson (1890) The Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson. New York, NY: Century Co., pp. 28-30.

Abraham Lincoln Freed Her Husband—Then Called Out Her Faith

President Abraham Lincoln (inset)
and his Bible

December 1864

In the final winter of the Civil War, two women from Tennessee came to plead with President Abraham Lincoln. Their husbands were prisoners of war, held at Johnson’s Island Prison Camp in Ohio. They asked for mercy. Lincoln, ever deliberate, put them off—Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday.

Finally, on Saturday, the President granted them an audience. One of the women pressed her case by invoking religion. Her husband, she said, was a religious man.

That day, Lincoln granted the release. But he didn’t let the moment pass without a word. He turned to the woman and said:

“You say your husband is a religious man; tell him when you meet him, that I say I am not much of a judge of religion, but that, in my opinion, the religion that sets men to rebel and fight against their government, because, as they think, that government does not sufficiently help some men to eat their bread on the sweat of other men's faces, is not the sort of religion upon which people can get to heaven!” [1]

Lincoln was referencing the Biblical idea from Genesis 3:19: “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread.” That verse affirms the dignity of labor—each person earning their bread through their own work.

But slavery flipped that: enslaved people labored, and enslavers profited. So Lincoln’s critique is that any religion which defends that system has forgotten the slaves' humanity, their labor, their suffering.

In other words, he called out their double standard.

It’s vintage Lincoln:

• Patient mercy—he grants the release.

• Moral clarity—he names the injustice.

• Gentle rebuke—he doesn’t shame the woman, but he doesn’t let the double standard slide without quoting the Bible she hoped would shield her.

Lincoln wasn’t just fighting a war of armies. He was fighting a war of ideas—against a theology that sanctified owning human beings, against a patriotism that justified rebellion, and against a religion that forgot the sweat of the enslaved.

It’s Lincoln’s way of saying: If your faith blesses exploitation, it’s not a faith worth following.

This wasn’t a speech. It was a moment. But it tells us everything about the man.

Another glimpse into the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

FYI: According to Noah Brooks, Lincoln wrote the above statement on a piece of box-board with a pencil, read it aloud, and jokingly titled it “The President’s Last, Shortest, and Best Speech.” It was published the next day in the Washington Daily Chronicle. Lincoln may have laughed—but he meant every word.

🎩 For a very different kind of Lincoln and religion moment—equal parts revival and ridiculous—don’t miss “Religion By Dummies.”

📚 Works Cited

[1] Lincoln, Abraham. Story Written for Noah Brooks, ca. December 6, 1864. In Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, edited by Roy P. Basler, vol. 8, p. 154. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953.

[2] Brooks, Noah. “Personal Recollections of Abraham Lincoln.” Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, July 1865, p. 230.

Abraham Lincoln’s Letter to Our Elected Leaders

(Image generated by Microsoft Copilot)

In a previous post, I imagined a letter from Abraham Lincoln to the American people.

But today, the silence isn’t among citizens—it’s in the chambers of power. Given the paralysis we’re witnessing, I turned again to my favorite president and asked: What would Mr. Lincoln say to those governing this republic?

This imagined letter draws from his own words, warnings, and wisdom—reassembled for a moment that echoes his own.

Here’s what he had to say.

To those entrusted with the sacred duty of governance,

I write not with ink, but with the voice of a nation’s conscience. Though my body lies still, my spirit endures in the institutions I once swore to preserve. I speak now not as a man of a party, but as a servant of the people and a witness to the cost of division.

You hold in your hands the reins of a government conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all are created equal. That government exists not for ornament, nor for power, but to do for the people what they cannot do alone: to protect the weak, to uplift the weary, to bind the wounds of a fractured land.

Yet I see with sorrow that the machinery of that government is halted—not by foreign invaders, but by domestic discord. The halls of power echo not with debate, but with silence. Services cease. Families suffer. And ambition, once yoked to duty, now strains against it.

Let me remind you: “The legitimate object of government is to do for a community of people whatever they need to have done, but cannot do at all, or cannot so well do, for themselves.” If you withhold food from the hungry, medicine from the sick, or shelter from the poor, you do not shrink government—you betray its purpose.

I knew the pain of losing a child. I would not wish it on any parent. If your policies deny care to the vulnerable, or vaccines to the innocent, then you have forgotten the very heart of public service.

And as you tear down the people’s house to build a ballroom—whether of marble or ego—know this: the grandeur of a nation lies not in chandeliers, but in the justice it delivers and the dignity it defends.

We must remember that the people of all the States are entitled to all the privileges and immunities of the citizen of the several States. We should bear this in mind, and act in such a way as to say nothing insulting or irritating. I would inculcate this idea, so that we may not, like Pharisees, set ourselves up to be better than other people.

I warned of such ambition before—not the kind that builds, but the kind that consumes. In 1838, I spoke of a danger not from abroad, but from within: a man who scorns the law, who seeks distinction not in service, but in destruction. “Towering genius disdains a beaten path,” I said. But genius without reverence is not leadership—it is license.

And in 1839, I gave that license a shape: a volcano seated in Washington, belching forth the lava of political corruption. That corruption flows still—into contracts, appointments, favors, and silence. It does not announce itself. It accumulates.

If you do not see it, you are doomed to be consumed by it.

I do not ask for perfection. I ask for principle. I do not demand uniformity. I plead for unity. The Union I gave my life to preserve was not a relic—it was a promise. Honor it—not with words, but with deeds.

Yours in the enduring cause of liberty, A. Lincoln

Food for thought.

Mac

🎩 Before he wrote to the leaders, he wrote to us. A warning not from the throne, but from the threshold. [Read Abraham Lincoln’s letter to the American people ]

📚 Bibliography: Lincoln’s Speeches and Writings

1. Lyceum Address

   • Title: “The Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions”

   • Date: January 27, 1838

   • Source: Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volume 1

   • Pages: pp. 108–115

2. Speech on the Sub-Treasury (a.k.a. “Lava Speech”)

   • Date: December 26, 1839

   • Location: Springfield, Illinois

   • Source: Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volume 1

   • Pages: pp. 150–157

3. Fragment on Government

   • Date: July 1, 1854 (approximate)

   • Source: Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volume 2

   • Page: 221

   • Note: This is a brief but powerful reflection on the moral purpose of government.

4. Reply to a Pennsylvania Delegation

   • Date: March 5, 1861

   • Source: Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volume 4

   • Page: 274

Political Corruption: Abraham Lincoln's Vow

“I know that the great volcano at Washington—aroused and directed by the evil spirit that reigns there—is belching forth the lava of political corruption… while on its bosom are riding, like demons on the waves of hell, the imps of the Evil Spirit…” [1]

So thundered Abraham Lincoln on September 26, 1839, in Springfield, Illinois, during his fourth campaign for the Illinois legislature.

Though far less known than the Gettysburg or Lyceum Addresses, this fiery 1839 speech offers a glimpse into Lincoln’s early rhetorical style—marked by vivid imagery and moral urgency. He conjured a “volcano at Washington” and “imps of the Evil Spirit” to condemn the political corruption he saw erupting from the federal government.

What had Lincoln so riled up in 1839 was his belief that political corruption was spreading like wildfire—and threatening the very soul of the republic. As he warned:

“Many free countries have lost their liberty—and ours may lose hers.” [1]

He was responding to what he saw as the dangerous influence of President Martin Van Buren’s administration and its patronage system. As a member of the Whig party in Illinois, Lincoln believed federal power was being misused to reward allies, punish dissenters, and consolidate control under one political party. Washington, in his eyes, had become a volcano—“aroused and directed by the evil spirit that reigns there”—belching corruption across the land.

What really ignited his fury?

The erosion of public virtue: Lincoln believed democracy depends on moral integrity. When leaders use power for personal or partisan gain, it poisons the system.

The normalization of corruption: He feared Americans were becoming numb to it—that the lava was sweeping away “every green spot or living thing.”

The mockery of resistance: Reformers like him were ridiculed, marginalized, and told their efforts were hopeless—“[the administration] taunting all those who dare resist.”

But Lincoln wasn’t just angry—he was defiant. He vowed never to bow to the tide, even if it broke him. That speech wasn’t just political—it was personal. It was a declaration of moral war against the forces he believed could destroy the republic from within.

“I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as I deem it, of the land of my life, my liberty, and my love.” [1]

Today, Lincoln’s accusations and vow read like a memo across time.

🌋 The Volcano Belches Again

That volcano in Washington is active again. But now it has better PR. The lava flows slicker—through contracts, algorithms, and press releases. It’s packaged as policy and sold as patriotism. The green spots are paved over. And riding its molten surface—just as Lincoln described—are the “imps of the Evil Spirit,” mocking those who still believe in the Constitution and the rule of law.

But Lincoln knew better. He knew that fidelity to the principle, "We, the people" isn’t fashionable—it’s foundational. That defiance isn’t reckless—it’s righteous. That standing alone isn’t failure—it’s the beginning of resistance. As he said,

“Let none falter who thinks he is right, and we may succeed.” [1]

So let the lava flow. Let the demons mock. Let the machinery grind. We still have the oath. Not to a person. Not to a party. Not to a platform. But to the cause our Founders fought to create—a country whose soul is, in Lincoln’s words, “of the people, by the people, for the people.”

And if we fail? Well, to paraphrase Lincoln,

Then let it be said that we did not go quietly. 

That we did not mistake silence for survival. 

That we stood—even in the ashes—and said: 

Not this time. Not without a fight.

📝 An Afterword

Irony alert: Just three years after this fiery speech, Lincoln helped host Van Buren—now a former president—in Springfield. Political courtesy? Strategic optics? Maybe both. But it’s a reminder that Lincoln’s defiance was principled, not petty. He didn’t bow to power—but he didn’t shun civility either. 

The man who saw Washington as a volcano knew that resistance doesn’t require rudeness. It requires resolve.

This was another topic from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller. 

Mac

🎩 Before the volcano and the vow—there was the forge. [Read: The Forge That Shaped Young Abraham Lincoln]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Lincoln’s entire 1839 Springfield speech can be found in Volume 1 of the Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, specifically .

The Speech Abraham Lincoln's Friends Urged Him Not to Give

The Controversy Surrounding Lincoln's 'House Divided' Speech

Between June 7th and 15th, 1858, Abraham Lincoln was quietly crafting a speech—but not in a linear fashion. He wrote it in fragments: a sentence here, a thought there. Scattered across scraps of paper, the speech only came together in full as the hour of its delivery approached.

It was intended for the Republican State Convention in Springfield, where—just as Lincoln anticipated—he would be nominated as the party’s candidate for the U.S. Senate. His opponent would be Stephen Douglas, the incumbent senator from Illinois.

On June 16th, the convention assembled. About a thousand delegates gathered and passed the following resolution unanimously:

“That Hon. Abraham Lincoln is our first and only choice for United States senator to fill the vacancy about to be created by the expiration of Mr. Douglas's term of office.” [1]

The previous evening, Lincoln and his law partner, William Herndon, returned to their law office in downtown Springfield. Lincoln locked the door behind them, tucking the key into his vest. Then, from the folds of his coat, he produced the manuscript he intended to deliver the next evening and began to read—slowly, distinctly—to Herndon.

He began by describing the failure of recent political compromises to quell the slavery debate. The agitation, he argued, had only grown stronger. Then came the words that would define the speech—and shake the room:

“A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this Government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved,—I do not expect the house to fall; but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing, or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the farther spread of it… or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States—old as well as new, North as well as South.” [2]

Lincoln paused after reading this paragraph, and looked at Herndon. Herndon was stunned. He agreed with the truth of it—but questioned the timing. Lincoln didn’t flinch.

“That makes no difference,” Lincoln said. “I want to use some universally known figure, expressed in simple language … I would rather be defeated with this expression in the speech, and it held up and discussed before the people, than to be victorious without it.” [1]

Herndon wasn’t the only one concerned. The next day, a few hours before his speech, Lincoln gathered a dozen trusted allies in the Library Room of the State House and again read the speech aloud. Every man in the room condemned it. They called it unwise, impolitic, and too far ahead of its time. Herndon, alone among them, stood and urged Lincoln to deliver it anyway:

“If it is in advance of the times, let us—you and I, if no one else—lift the people to the level of this speech now, higher hereafter.” [1]

Lincoln listened to all of the arguments. He paced. And then he spoke:

“Friends, I have thought about this matter a great deal… and am thoroughly convinced the time has come when it should be uttered; and if it must be that I go down because of this speech, then let me go down linked to truth—die in the advocacy of what is right and just.” [1]

At 8PM that evening, June 16th, Lincoln delivered the speech to a packed hall in the Illinois State Capitol. It was met with shock, admiration, and controversy. Many Republicans feared it would doom his campaign. Democrats mocked it. Even close friends called it a mistake.

Lincoln and the chamber in which he delivered
his 'House Divided' speech

One visitor, Dr. Long, told Lincoln bluntly:

“That foolish speech of yours will kill you… Don’t you wish it was wiped out of existence?” [1]

Lincoln paused, lifted his spectacles, and replied:

“If I had to draw a pen across, and erase my whole life from existence… I should choose that speech, and leave it to the world unerased.”

The speech produced a profound impression across party lines. Democrats rejoiced in its perceived recklessness. Conservative Republicans received it coldly, fearing it would cost Lincoln the election. But abolitionists heard in it the voice of a fearless leader—one who understood the danger and dared to name it.

Leonard Swett, one of Lincoln’s closest political allies, later reflected:

“The first ten lines of that speech defeated him… Yet he saw that it was an abstract truth, and standing by the speech would ultimately find him in the right place.” [1]

Lincoln lost the Senate race to Douglas. But he gained something greater: a reputation for moral clarity. The speech placed him in the national conversation. It signaled that Lincoln was not just a politician—but a statesman willing to risk defeat for the sake of truth.

📄 Why His Decision to Keep the Lines in His Speech Matters

Lincoln wasn’t merely criticizing a law—he was diagnosing a national crisis. By invoking his adaptation of the biblical phrase “And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand”—spoken by Jesus in Mark 3:25, and echoed in Matthew 12:25 and Luke 11:17—Lincoln warned that the Union could not survive in its fractured state. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise through the Kansas-Nebraska Act had shown that political compromise had failed. The issue of slavery would demand a final reckoning.

He chose the 'house divided' metaphor deliberately. As he told Herndon, he wanted “some universally known figure” that would “strike home to the minds of men.”

Christ’s words did exactly that—and they still do, even 167 years later.

This was another topic from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Whitney, Henry Clay (1908) Lincoln the Citizen: Life of Lincoln - Volume I. New York City, NY: The Baker and Taylor Co. 

[2] "Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 2 [Sept. 3, 1848-Aug. 21, 1858]." In the digital collection Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/lincoln2. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed October 17, 2025.

7 Abraham Lincoln Quotes About American Politics Today

Abraham Lincoln
(A.I. generated image)

Here are seven Abraham Lincoln quotes selected from his Collected Works [*] because they eerily connect to today’s political climate and the broader themes of misinformation, distortion, and democratic fragility. These quotes form a powerful arc, from warning to action to legacy.

But will we listen?

🧨 “If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher.” (1838)

🔍 Context: From Lincoln’s Lyceum Address, warning that America’s greatest threat would come from within—not foreign powers, but internal decay. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: In an era of misinformation, institutional erosion, and political extremism, this quote is a chilling reminder: democracy doesn’t collapse from invasion—it collapses from indifference, distortion, and betrayal by its own citizens.

🌪️ “Instead of the quiet times and good feeling which was promised us...we have had nothing but ill-feeling and agitation.” (1858)

🔍 Context: Spoken during the Lincoln-Douglas debates, reflecting the disillusionment with political promises and rising sectional tension. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: Echoes the frustration many feel when campaign promises give way to division, outrage cycles, and performative politics. The “quiet times” never arrive—only more noise.

🗽“We all declare for liberty; but in using the same word we do not all mean the same thing.” (1864)

🔍 Context: Lincoln was exposing how the Confederacy used “liberty” to justify slavery, while the Union used it to fight for human rights and end slavery. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: The words "Liberty" or “Freedom” or "Democracy" are still weaponized—used to defend contradictory positions, from public health resistance to civil rights. Lincoln’s insight reveals how language can be twisted to serve power.

🤐 “I do not state a thing and say I know it, when I do not.” (1858)

🔍 Context: A declaration of intellectual honesty during his debates with Stephen Douglas. Lincoln refused to claim certainty where he had none. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: In a time when falsehoods are casually repeated and amplified, this quote is a rebuke to political dishonesty. It’s a standard that feels almost revolutionary now.

🌩️ “The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present...We must think anew, and act anew.” (1862)

🔍 Context: From Lincoln’s Annual Message to Congress during the Civil War, urging bold action in a time of crisis. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: A call to rethink governance, media, and civic engagement in the face of the Constitutional disruptions, democratic backsliding, and government chaos. Old approaches and solutions won’t fix these new threats.

📜 “I insist upon this Government being placed where our fathers originally placed it.” (1858)

🔍 Context: Lincoln’s demand for adherence to the founding principles—constitutional democracy, checks and balances, and the rule of law. Democracy isn’t self-sustaining—it must be actively protected.

📌 Today’s Relevance: A reminder that democracy and governance must be actively rooted in shared values—not distorted by partisan manipulation or authoritarian drift. It’s a call to restore institutional integrity.

🌅 “The struggle of today, is not altogether for today—it is for a vast future also.” (1861)

🔍 Context: From Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address, urging Americans to see beyond the moment and a reminder that the fight for the Union carried long term consequences. 

📌 Today’s Relevance: A warning that today’s political partisanship and disruptions to the "balance of power" among the three branches of our government—over truth, justice, the rule of law, and democratic norms—will shape generations of future Americans. What we tolerate now becomes precedent for our children and our children's children.

🧾 Conclusion

Abraham Lincoln didn’t speak in soundbites or just to hear himself talk. He spoke in truths—layered, enduring, and often uncomfortable. These seven quotes form a powerful commentary by Lincoln on the fragility of truth, the danger of distortion, and the enduring need for people to always stand up for the Constitution and the rule of law in this country.

In 2025, we find ourselves wrestling with many of the same forces Lincoln warned against: division masquerading as patriotism, liberty twisted into license, and truth deformed by agendas and self-serving ideologies. His words remind us that democracy is not inherited like a piece of furniture—it is earned; it must be protected, and sometimes painfully rebuilt.

Lincoln’s voice still echoes—not because we’ve preserved it, but because we still need it. If destruction be our lot, it will not come from foreigners. It will come from our own people. And if a return to Constitutional rule is possible, it begins with listening.

So let us listen—not passively, but actively. Let us think anew, act anew, and remember that the struggle of today is not just for today. It is for a vast future also. Our children's children's children need us.

Food for thought from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[*] All quotes came from: Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln - Volumes 1-8. [1824-1865]. In the digital collection Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/lincoln2. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed October 2, 2025.