🗞️ When Lincoln Was the Meme Before Memes Were a Thing

 

Abraham Lincoln: 1860 Currier & Ives Cartoon

Today, AI-generated images of politicians like Hakeem Jeffries and Chuck Schumer flood the internet—distorted to provoke outrage or laughter. Their expressions are exaggerated, their gestures twisted, their personas reduced to punchlines. It’s political mockery—digitally enhanced.

But this political tactic isn’t new.

During the 1848 Presidential Campaign, Whig Congressman Abraham Lincoln made a swing through the Northeast giving speeches in support of his party's candidate, General Zachary Taylor. On September 21 he gave a speech in Taunton, Massachusetts. A few days later, a local "Free Soil" critic published a review of Lincoln's speech in the Bristol County Democrat, that read like a 19th-century version of a meme—mocking Lincoln’s voice, his gestures, his facial expressions, and accusing him of dishonesty and ignorance.

“His awkward gesticulations, the ludicrous management of his voice and the comical expression of his countenance…” [1]

The writer tried to dismantle Lincoln's credibility by turning him into a caricature. Lincoln was portrayed as a bumbling, unscrupulous partisan—more showman than statesman. 

THEN he started on Lincoln's speech.

The writer didn't just challenge Lincoln's arguments—he framed Lincoln's defense of General Zachary Taylor, the presidential candidate of the Whig Party, as “reckless,” his metaphors “facetious,” and his logic “stupendous falsehood.” [1]

The Free Soil critic even castigated Lincoln for picking on the Free Soiler's choice, Martin Van Buren:

"To show the recklessness and audacity of the honorable gentleman and the low estimate he had formed of his hearers, it will suffice to give but one specimen. Speaking of Van Buren, he said, 'he (Van Buren) won't have an electoral vote in the nation nor as many as all others in any county in the nation.'" [1][*]

The review was relentless. It accused Lincoln of misrepresenting the Free Soil Party, twisting syllogisms [**], and ignoring constitutional disputes. It even offered a counter-“prosyllogism”[***] to clarify the Free Soil position: Opposition to slavery must rise above party loyalty, and that unity in the North was the only path to abolition.

And yet, even the writer noted that Lincoln’s speech stirred the room. The Taylorites were “in ecstasies” and "the steam was up". Lincoln’s humor, indignation, and passion won the crowd—even as his critics sharpened their pens.

🎭 Politics: The Joke Before the Punchline

What’s striking is how little the political playbook has changed. Whether it’s a newspaper article in 1848, an editorial cartoon in 1860 or an internet meme in 2025, the formula is familiar: exaggerate the face, mock the voice, twist the logic, and question the character. The goal isn’t just to disagree—it’s to discredit.

Lincoln was heckled in print the way Jeffries and Schumer were mischaracterized online by AI. The medium changed. The message didn’t.

But here’s the joke: Lincoln endured it. He kept speaking. He kept joking. And he kept believing that ideas—however awkwardly delivered—could still move people.

Here’s the punchline: They elected his awkward movements, squeaky voice, and “ugly” face president in 1860—and he saved the nation.

I guess the punchline really does come after the joke, eh?

Food for thought.

Mac

[*] In his 1848 speech at Taunton, Massachusetts, Abraham Lincoln predicted that Martin Van Buren would receive no electoral votes in the presidential election. Ironically, Lincoln’s prediction turned out to be accurate—Van Buren did receive zero electoral votes, despite earning over 10% of the popular vote.

[**] A syllogism is a form of logical reasoning where a conclusion is drawn from two connected premises. For example:

• All men are mortal. Abraham Lincoln is a man. Therefore, Abraham Lincoln is mortal.

It’s a classic tool in argumentation—simple, structured, and powerful when used well.

[***] counter-“prosyllogism”—a logical argument built from a chain of syllogisms, each leading to the next, to support a broader conclusion. For example, here's the one the critic used in the newspaper article:

• The abolition of slavery in the territory of the United States can never be accomplished unless the North is united. 
• But the North cannot be united until old party lines are broken down. 
• But these lines cannot be broken down unless every man is willing to sacrifice his attachment to minor questions and make opposition to slavery the leading idea; 
• therefore, we have come out of the old pro-slavery parties and formed the United Party of the North. [1]

📚 Works Cited

[1] "SPEECH AT TAUNTON, MASSACHUSETTS September [21?] 1848". 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 1, 2025.

Abe Lincoln the Dialectic: A Mind Forged in Contradiction,

Abraham Lincoln was mocked as a “Man of the West”—a backwoods specimen with homespun clothes, unkempt hair, and slow wits. One observer in New Salem called him “a rather singular grotesque appearance”; another described him as “as ruff [sic] a specimen of humanity as could be found.” [1]

And yet, behind that rough exterior was one of the sharpest minds in American political history.

One of Abraham Lincoln’s legal contemporaries, Henry Clay Whitney, wrote in his 1908 biography:

"Those who read Mr. Lincoln's speeches will find some of the most brilliant exhibitions of dialectics in political literature in his untangling of the knotted threads of Douglas's fallacious and involved [debate] statements, made with a view and animus to embarrass and confuse." [2]

This is more than praise—it’s a diagnosis. Whitney doesn’t just admire Lincoln’s rhetoric; he identifies the core of Lincoln’s intellectual power: a dialectical mind. Not merely the ability to argue, but the ability to see, dissect, and reconstruct complex moral and political issues with clarity and force.

📖 What “Dialectic” Means in This Context

At its core, dialectic is the process of resolving contradictions through reasoned argument—thesis, antithesis, synthesis. It’s not just debate; it’s evolution through tension.

Lincoln lived dialectically. He didn’t just argue with others—he argued with himself, with the nation, with the moment. He constantly held competing ideas in tension:

• Union vs. Emancipation He began the war to preserve the Union, but came to see that the Union could not be preserved without ending slavery.

• Law vs. Morality He respected constitutional limits, yet stretched executive power to meet moral imperatives.

• Humility vs. Ambition He downplayed his own greatness, yet pursued mastery with obsessive drive.

• Logic vs. Emotion His speeches fused cold reason with deep feeling—think of the Gettysburg Address or Second Inaugural.

Lincoln didn’t resolve these tensions by choosing one side. He synthesized them. That’s dialectic—not merely the ability to argue, but the ability to see, dissect, and reconstruct complex moral and political issues with clarity and force. Let's look at the Lincoln-Douglas Debates.

⚔️ Lincoln vs. Douglas: Dismantling the Framework

In the 1858 debates with Stephen Douglas, Lincoln didn’t merely oppose a rival—he dismantled a worldview. Douglas tried to blur the moral lines of slavery with legal technicalities and the doctrine of “popular sovereignty.” Lincoln responded not with slogans, but with structure. He isolated the core contradiction: that a nation founded on liberty could not endure half slave and half free. Then, with surgical precision, he exposed Douglas’s evasions—his conflation of local choice with national principle, his attempt to paint Lincoln as a radical rather than a realist. Lincoln didn’t just refute Douglas. He redefined the terms of the debate. Here's an example. [3]

🗣️ The First Debate at Ottawa, IL (August 21, 1858)

Douglas opened with a barrage of mischaracterizations—accusing Lincoln of favoring racial equality, outright abolition, and uniform social standards across the country. Lincoln’s response was a masterclass in dialectical clarity. He untangled Douglas’s false equivalencies, reframed the issue around the extension of slavery—not its immediate abolition—and refused to be baited into extremes. He didn’t just defend his position; he exposed the internal contradictions in Douglas’s. Lincoln’s logic was not reactive—it was reconstructive.

Lincoln’s dialectical skill wasn’t confined to the campaign trail. As the war escalated, he carried that same intellectual discipline into the moral battlefield—most powerfully in the address he delivered at Gettysburg.

📍 The Gettysburg Address (1863)

At just 271 words, Lincoln reframed the entire meaning of the Civil War. He didn’t glorify the battle. He didn’t demonize the enemy. Instead, he held two truths in tension:

• The war was a test of whether a nation “conceived in liberty” could endure.

• The dead had consecrated the ground more than any speech ever could.

Lincoln’s dialectic here is subtle but profound: suffering vs. purpose, death vs. rebirth, past vs. future. He doesn’t resolve these tensions with certainty—he resolves them with vision:

“…that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…” [3]

He doesn’t say the war has redeemed the nation. He says it might—if the living rise to the challenge. That’s dialectic: a synthesis born from contradiction.

By the time of his Second Inaugural, Lincoln’s dialectic had deepened. No longer just parsing political contradictions, he was now confronting the spiritual paradoxes of a nation at war with itself.

📍 The Second Inaugural Address (1865)

Delivered just weeks before the war’s end, this speech is Lincoln at his most dialectical—and most haunting.

He acknowledges both sides prayed to the same God. Both read the same Bible. Both believed they were right. And yet:

“The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully.”[3]

This isn’t triumphalism. It’s moral reckoning. Lincoln doesn’t claim divine favor. He claims divine mystery. And then he offers a synthesis—not of ideology, but of ethics:

“With malice toward none, with charity for all…” [3]

He doesn’t demand vengeance. He demands healing. That’s dialectic: holding justice and mercy in the same breath.

🔍 Why Understanding 'Dialectic' Matters

Lincoln’s greatness wasn’t just in what he said—it was in how he thought. His dialectical mind allowed him to navigate political, social, and moral contradictions without collapsing into confusion or dogma. He didn’t resolve national tensions by simply choosing sides. He resolved them by elevating the contradictions—clarifying them, reframing them, and making them comprehensible. That’s why his words endure. They weren’t just persuasive. They were transformative. They weren’t just for his time. They were built for ours.

🧩 Summary: Lincoln the Dialectic

Lincoln’s mind was forged in contradiction. From the courtroom to the campaign trail, from the battlefield to the Bible, he held opposing truths in tension—and synthesized them into clarity. Whether dismantling Douglas’s evasions in Ottawa, reframing the meaning of sacrifice at Gettysburg, or confronting divine mystery in his Second Inaugural, Lincoln didn’t just argue. He evolved. His dialectical method wasn’t academic—it was existential. It shaped his leadership, his rhetoric, and ultimately, the nation itself.

It’s not a nickname like “The Great Emancipator”. It’s a lens. A way of seeing him not as a fixed figure, but as a dynamic force.

Clarity forged from contradiction—another insight from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Enjoy this mind-bender? Here is one that that will have you grabbing a pen to try. [Read: "'Bass-Ackwards' - An Abe Lincoln spoonerism story" ]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Thomas, Benjamin P. (1934) Lincoln’s New Salem. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press.

[2] Whitney, Henry Clay (1908) Life of Lincoln. Edited by Wayne Whipple, Philadelphia, PA: J.B. Lippincott Company.

[3] Lincoln, Abraham (1953) The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volumes 1-9, ed. Roy P. Basler (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press). All of the speech excerpts were taken from this work in the order shown below.

1. Lincoln-Douglas Debates. First Debate at Ottawa, August 21, 1858.

2. Lincoln, Abraham. Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863.

3. Lincoln, Abraham. Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865.

The Forge That Shaped Young Abe Lincoln

(Text card created with Microsoft Copilot)

 Before Abraham Lincoln ever entered a courtroom or the White House, he stood in the heat of the frontier—where hardship hammered him from a boy who would compete into a man who would one day fight for our nation’s soul. Historians often focus on Lincoln’s intellect, his melancholy, his moral compass—but they often overlook the fire. Not in the petty sense, but in the deep, driving way that says: I will not be outworked. I will not be out-thought. I will not be outlasted.

He was not yet the store clerk, the lawyer, the orator, or the president. He was a boy with an axe, a book, and a hunger to prove himself. Between the ages of seven and twenty-one, Lincoln’s life in Indiana forged his physical toughness, emotional resilience, and intellectual appetite. It was here that Lincoln the Competitor began to take shape.

🌱 From Kentucky to Indiana

In 1816, Thomas Lincoln—driven by a hunger for land he could truly call his own—bartered his Kentucky farm lease for ten barrels of rye whiskey and twenty dollars in cash. He set out alone for Indiana, navigating the Ohio River toward Thompson’s Ferry. The crossing was rough; he lost more than half the whiskey barrels to the current. But he reached the Indiana side and pressed on into the forest, searching for a place to build a new life.

Henry Clay Whitney, a Lincoln contemporary and later biographer, described the moment with a rather wry tone:

“Sixteen miles distant, [Thomas] came to a place which suited his fancy, although it is not unlikely that the setting sun and the cravings of hunger, warning him to seek a shelter, had some bearing upon his choice of a location.” [1]

Thomas marked the spot with a pile of rocks, then retraced his steps back to Kentucky to gather his wife and children—including seven-year-old Abraham. When the family returned, fall had settled in. The nights were cold. They had no livestock, no cabin, no neighbors for miles. Their only defense against the coming winter was an open brush fire beneath leaf-less trees.

Here, in the raw wilderness, the Lincolns made their home.

In this setting, Lincoln learned to endure, to labor, and to think. He split rails by day and read by firelight at night. Every swing of the axe, every page turned, was a quiet contest—against poverty, isolation, and obscurity. The forge of the Indiana frontier was not merely physical; it shaped the tall, gangling youth’s voice, ignited his hunger to learn, and hardened him emotionally and spiritually.

And beneath the labor, learning, and loss, something else was forming: a will to win.

💪 The Labor of Survival

In Indiana, survival was a full-time job. Lincoln split rails, cleared land, hauled water, and helped build cabins. The work was relentless, and the wilderness unforgiving. But Lincoln didn’t just endure it—he excelled. His cousin Dennis Hanks recalled, “He'd split more rails in a day than any man I ever saw.” [2] That wasn’t just strength—it was stamina. And it was competitive. 

Neighbors noticed his drive. He was tall, rangy, and unusually strong for his age, but it was his work ethic that set him apart. He didn’t shy from hard labor; he leaned into it. Every swing of the axe was a quiet contest—not just with the trees, but with the limitations of poverty and obscurity. The frontier demanded more than muscle—it demanded will.

🗣️ The Voice in the Wilderness

Even in the isolation of the frontier, Lincoln found ways to speak—and to be heard. He would climb onto stumps and mimic preachers, politicians, and storytellers, drawing small crowds of neighbors and family. Dennis Hanks recalled, “Abe would get up on a stump and talk, and make fun of the preachers.” [2] It wasn’t mockery—it was rehearsal. He was learning cadence, persuasion, and presence.

This impulse—to perform, to persuade, to connect—intensified after his mother’s death. Nancy Hanks Lincoln had been his emotional anchor, the one who encouraged his learning and believed in his potential. Her loss left him hollow, but also hungry. He didn’t retreat—he reached outward. Speaking became a way to fill the silence, to assert identity, and to compete in a world that didn’t hand out praise easily.

William Herndon later wrote, “Lincoln’s ambition was a little engine that knew no rest.” [5] That engine was already running in Indiana—fueled by grief, solitude, and a burning need to matter.

📖 The Hunger to Learn

The Indiana wilderness offered no schools, no libraries, and no mentors—but Lincoln found ways to learn anyway. He borrowed books from neighbors, read by firelight, and memorized passages with astonishing precision. His stepmother, Sarah Bush Johnston, remembered, “Abe read every book he could lay his hands on.” [3] And he didn’t just read—he absorbed. He would recite long sections aloud, reflect on them, and apply their lessons to the world around him.

Josiah Crawford, a neighbor who once loaned Lincoln a copy of Weems’s Life of Washington, recalled how Lincoln accidentally damaged the book and worked off the debt by laboring for days. That story became legend—not just for the book, but for the boy who valued knowledge enough to earn it with sweat. [4]

Even in his youth, Lincoln’s mind was restless. He questioned, he reasoned, he debated. William Herndon later wrote, “He was ambitious to excel—to stand among the first.” [5] That ambition wasn’t born in law school or politics—it was sparked in the solitude of Indiana, where every book was a doorway and every idea a challenge.

🕯️ The Quiet Trials of the Soul

Indiana was not just a place of labor and learning—it was also a place of loss. Lincoln’s mother, Nancy Hanks died in 1818 of mad cow disease and his sister, Sarah Lincoln Grigsby died during childbirth in 1828. Their deaths—especially his mother's—left a void that no amount of work or reading could fill. The isolation of the frontier pressed in. There were no neighbors nearby, no community to lean on, and no distractions from grief. Yet Lincoln endured. He grew serious, introspective, and emotionally self-reliant.

Those who knew him during this time often remarked on his quiet intensity. His cousin Dennis Hanks said, “Abe was a long, thin, leggy boy, and had a faraway look in his eyes.” [2] That look wasn’t just melancholy—it was focus. Even as a boy, Lincoln seemed to be wrestling with something larger than himself. William Herndon later observed, “He was a man of deep feeling, but he rarely showed it.” [5] That emotional restraint, forged in solitude, became one of his greatest strengths.

🧭 Conclusion

The forge that was life in the Indiana wilderness was not merely physical or intellectual—it was spiritual too. In the silence of the woods, Lincoln began to shape the inner steel that would carry him through every contest to come.

Lincoln’s fire didn’t begin in the White House—it was lit in the quiet woods of Indiana. There, in the solitude of labor, learning, and loss, he began to compete—not for fame, but for mastery. The frontier didn’t just shape his body; it sharpened his will. And that will would carry him into every contest that followed—from courtroom to Congress, from prairie debates to presidential decisions.

This was the first glimpse into a lesser-known Lincoln—the fierce competitor, the fighter, the man behind the myth.

It's a story that begins here in this rarely lit corner of the archive of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

Next from the archive: In Indiana, Lincoln learned to endure. In Illinois, he learned to win—with wit, will, and relentless resolve.  [Read: The Making of a Fighter]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Whitney, Henry Clay. Life of Lincoln. Edited by Wayne Whipple, J.B. Lippincott Company, 1908.

[2] Hanks, Dennis. Quoted in Herndon’s Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life, by William H. Herndon and Jesse W. Weik, D. Appleton and Company, 1892.

[3] Johnston, Sarah Bush. Quoted in The Every-Day Life of Abraham Lincoln, by Francis Fisher Browne, McClure, Phillips & Co., 1902.

[4] Crawford, Josiah. Recounted in Lincoln: A Life, by Michael Burlingame, Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008.

[5] Herndon, William H. Herndon’s Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life, by William H. Herndon and Jesse W. Weik, D. Appleton and Company, 1892.

⚖️ The Law Above All: Abraham Lincoln’s Slavery Contradiction Reexamined

A scene from the 1939 film, Young Mr. Lincoln 
(probably his Almanac Trial).
It was directed by John Ford and starred
Henry Fonda [left] as Lincoln)

Abraham Lincoln’s legal career in Illinois is often praised as a prelude to his moral leadership during our country’s only civil war. But the deeper you dig, the more complicated it gets. And the real rub—the exception that historians and Lincoln critics often point to—is this:

Lincoln helped free a slave first. Then, six years later, he defended a slaveholder.

If the order were reversed, we might chalk it up to early-career pragmatism. But Lincoln was already on record as despising slavery. He’s even remembered as the Great Emancipator. 

And that’s the heart of it, isn’t it? That sequence matters. Defending a slave first, then a slaveholder—it feels like regression, not evolution. It challenges the tidy narrative of Lincoln as a steadily ascending moral figure. You’re right to feel the rub of that inconsistency.

Historians often offer this defense to justify Lincoln's ambiguity:

“As a lawyer, Lincoln believed in the right to legal representation—even for clients whose views he didn’t share.” [1]

But that explanation doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. From the heart of those two pivotal cases—Bailey v. Cromwell and Matson v. Bryant—a deeper truth emerges. What some dismiss as “pragmatism” was actually something more principled: Lincoln’s unwavering commitment to the law, even when the law lived in tension with justice.

Let's break it down.

🕊️ Bailey v. Cromwell (1841): The Illegality of Sale

In 1841, Lincoln helped secure the freedom of Nance Legins-Costley, a young Black woman who had been bought, sold, mortgaged, and jailed. His legal argument didn’t hinge on abolitionist sentiment—it rested on Constitutional clarity:

“The presumption [is] ... every person was free, without regard to race ... the sale of a free person is illegal.” [2]

Lincoln didn’t need to prove Nance’s humanity. He proved the transaction—the sale itself—violated Illinois law. It was a legal win grounded in Constitutional obedience—a theme Lincoln would echo throughout his life.

⚖️ Matson v. Bryant (1847): The Boundaries of Residence

Six years later, Lincoln defended slaveholder Robert Matson. Not because he believed in slavery, or that he'd regressed from his previous opinions about slavery—but because he believed in legal process. Matson had brought enslaved people from Kentucky to Illinois, and Lincoln argued they were in transit, not "residents"—so Illinois’s free soil protections didn’t apply.

This was not a moral defense of slavery. It was a jurisdictional argument. Lincoln lost the case because the Bryant family had lived in Illinois for two years, clearly establishing residency. [3]

🔍 The Consistency Beneath this Contradiction

At first glance, Lincoln's actions in these cases seem contradictory. But Lincoln’s logic was consistent across both cases:

• In Bailey, he used Illinois law to invalidate a sale.

• In Matson, he tested the limits of that same law to defend a client’s rights.

• In both, he respected precedent, jurisdiction, and constitutional boundaries.

Lincoln’s fidelity to law—even in morally fraught cases like these—was the throughline. 

Lincoln believed that law was the only stable path to justice. Even as president, he framed the Emancipation Proclamation as a war power, not a moral decree. His reverence for legal structure never wavered.

📍 Sidebar: Echoes of Dred Scott

The legal tension Lincoln argued in Matson—whether temporary residence in a free state conferred freedom—would later explode across the nation in Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857). Chief Justice Taney ruled that transit through free soil did not change a slave’s status.

Lincoln’s argument in Matson was narrower and state-based, but it reveals how deeply embedded this issue was—and how Lincoln’s legal reasoning foreshadowed the constitutional crisis to come.

🧩 The Rub Reframed

So the sequence of Lincoln's choice of cases to represent isn’t a moral inconsistency—it’s a legal consistency in morally fraught terrain. Lincoln didn’t bend the law to fit his beliefs. He bent his beliefs to fit the law—and trusted that justice would follow. He believed the law was the only stable path to justice—even when justice demanded more than the law allowed. [4*]

That’s a richer, more honest portrait of Lincoln. 

And these often-cited cases from the archives—despite what many historians and critics have long noted—do not diminish the legend of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

They deepen it.

Mac

🎩 Hooked on Honest Old Abe’s courtroom drama? Here are three of his murder tales from the docket on Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller:

Abe's first murder trial back in 1838 was a surprise to the courtroom spectators—and to Lincoln himself! [Read: A Rookie's Bold Debut]

A fatal stabbing, a family feud, and a press war—Lincoln’s last murder trial ad it all. [Read: A Knife, A Grudge, and a Political Storm]

An abused woman and a murder charge—how did Lincoln help poor, old Mrs. Goings? [Read: The Day his Actions Spoke Louder Than His Words]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Burlingame, Michael. Abraham Lincoln: A Life. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008.

[2] Bailey v. Cromwell, 4 Ill. 70 (1841). Illinois Supreme Court. 

[3] “Matson Trial.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation. Accessed 21 Sept. 2025. 

[4*] Herndon, William H., and Jesse W. Weik. Herndon's Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life. D. Appleton and Company, 1889. Hearndon actually wrote of Lincoln:

“He had faith in the law as the best expression of the will and wisdom of the people.”

⚖️ Abraham Lincoln’s Last Murder Trial: A Knife, a Grudge, and a Political Storm

Abraham Lincoln, the Lawyer
Waterfront Park in Louisville Kentucky
 (Statue by Louisville artist Ed Hamilton)

🧨 The Drama: Family, Politics, and Reputation

In the summer of 1859, Abraham Lincoln stepped into a Springfield courtroom for what would be his final murder trial—just two years before he became President. The case was The People v. Simeon Quinn Harrison, and it had all the makings of a frontier tragedy: a fatal stabbing, a tangled family feud, and a defense team led by Lincoln himself.

But this wasn’t just any murder trial—it was a social powder keg.

• The victim’s brother was married to Harrison’s sister, and their relationship was already strained by allegations of abuse.
• Both families were well-known in Springfield and longtime Lincoln supporters.
• The community was deeply divided, and the trial drew intense public attention.
• And the two newspapers in Springfield only added to the chaos.

🔪 The Incident: A Picnic, a Grudge, and a Knife

The trouble began in Pleasant Plains, Illinois, where Greek Crafton and Simeon Q. Harrison—two young men with a long-standing grudge—crossed paths at a Fourth of July picnic. Tensions flared, allegedly over a girl, and the animosity carried into the following weeks.

On July 17, the feud exploded. In a violent confrontation at Richland, Harrison stabbed Crafton across the abdomen, slicing from rib to groin and exposing his intestines. Crafton’s brother John tried to intervene and was slashed across the arm. Harrison fled the scene and evaded arrest for weeks.

Crafton died two days later from his wounds. The newspapers buzzed with outrage and speculation. The Illinois State Journal and the Illinois State Register—Springfield’s rival papers—competed fiercely to cover the unfolding drama, often contradicting each other and accusing one another of bias.

📰 Media Mayhem: The Press Takes Sides

The Journal reported that Harrison had “taken leg bail,” evading the coroner’s inquest and burial formalities. The Register countered with claims that Harrison had already been arrested. Both papers agreed on one thing: the community was inflamed, and the case was politically charged.

By early August, Harrison surrendered voluntarily. His preliminary hearing was set before Justices Adams and Hickman. Seventy-five witnesses were subpoenaed. The prosecution team included J.B. White, Col. John A. McClernand, and Broadwell. The defense was stacked: Stephen Logan, William Herndon, Milton Hay—and Abraham Lincoln.

🏛️ The Preliminary Hearing: Packed Courtrooms and Fierce Testimony

By early August 1859, Quinn Harrison had surrendered and was brought before Justices Adams and Hickman for a preliminary hearing. The courthouse was packed—Springfield’s citizens were riveted by the case. Over seventy-five witnesses were subpoenaed, and the testimony painted a picture of long-standing animosity between Harrison and Greek Crafton.

The confrontation that led to Crafton’s death occurred in Short’s Drug Store. Witnesses testified that Crafton followed Harrison inside and initiated the attack, with his brother John joining in. In the chaos, Harrison fatally stabbed Greek. The defense argued self-defense, citing threats from Crafton to “throw him down and stamp him in the face.”

 🎭 Deathbed Drama: Cartwright vs. Million

One of the most dramatic moments came from Reverend Peter Cartwright—Harrison’s grandfather—who testified that Crafton, on his deathbed, absolved Harrison of blame. Reverend John Slater echoed this account. But Dr. Million, who had also spoken with Crafton in his final hours, disputed it, stating that Crafton had in fact censured Harrison.

This conflicting testimony added emotional weight to the proceedings and underscored the complexity of the case. The defense leaned heavily on the idea that Harrison had acted out of fear and necessity, not malice.

🎤 Lincoln’s Summation: Calm, Clear, and Strategic

On August 4, the lawyers presented their closing arguments. Mr. Broadwell opened for the prosecution, followed by Judge Logan and Abraham Lincoln for the defense. Lincoln’s summation was described as calm, clear, and persuasive. He didn’t rely on theatrics—he relied on logic, character, and the credibility of the witnesses.

Mr. McClernand closed for the prosecution, arguing for a murder charge. But Lincoln and Logan suggested that Harrison be bound over for manslaughter, not murder, to avoid the appearance of a rushed dismissal. The court agreed, setting bail at $10,000.

📜 The Indictment: A Political Storm Brews

Later that month, the grand jury returned a bill of indictment for murder. The Illinois State Journal expressed disbelief, calling it “a mystery” and suggesting the case clearly pointed to self-defense. The Illinois State Register fired back, accusing the Journal of politicizing the judicial process and undermining the integrity of the courts.

The press war intensified. The Journal’s defense of Harrison was seen by some as partisan meddling, while others viewed the indictment as judicial overreach. The trial was set for the next term of the Sangamon Circuit Court, and the stakes couldn’t have been higher.

🔨 Gavel Down: The Trial Begins

On August 31, 1859, the trial of Quinn Harrison officially commenced in the Sangamon County Circuit Court. The courtroom was packed, and anticipation ran high. Yet the proceedings got off to a slow start—many witnesses were absent, and by mid-afternoon, only three jurors had been empaneled. The defense team included Abraham Lincoln, Stephen Logan, and Shelby Cullom. The prosecution was led by J.B. White, John A. McClernand, Charles Broadwell, and B.S. Edwards, though Edwards’s illness threatened to sideline him.

To ensure a full and accurate record of the trial, the court retained E.B. Hitt, a respected law reporter from Chicago. His presence underscored the significance of the case—not just legally, but socially and politically.

⚖️ Scales of Justice: Press Wars and Political Accusations

As the trial unfolded, Springfield’s two rival newspapers—the Illinois State Journal and the Illinois State Register—continued their editorial sparring. The Journal criticized the grand jury’s decision to indict Harrison for murder, suggesting the panel was politically motivated and packed with Democratic partisans. The Register fired back, accusing the Journal of prejudging the case and injecting partisan bias into a judicial matter.

Both papers claimed to defend fairness, but their coverage reflected the deep political divisions of the time. The Journal’s defense of Harrison was seen by some as an attempt to sway public opinion, while the Register insisted that justice should proceed without editorial interference.

📝 Ink and Evidence: Reporting the Trial

Despite the press feud, both papers committed to covering the trial in detail. The Journal arranged for Hitt to provide a full transcript, though space constraints led to a condensed abstract in its daily editions. The Register noted delays in jury selection due to illness and reported that the defense had begun presenting its witnesses.

Among the most anticipated testimony was that of Reverend Peter Cartwright, who reiterated his claim that Greek Crafton had absolved Harrison on his deathbed. This statement, already contested during the preliminary hearing, remained a focal point of the defense’s strategy.

⚖️ Scales Tip: The Final Arguments

As the trial entered its final phase, the courtroom remained packed with spectators. Reverend Peter Cartwright was recalled for further examination, and after legal wrangling, his testimony about Greek Crafton’s dying declaration was admitted. The defense then presented a series of witnesses who testified to threats made by Crafton in the days leading up to the fatal encounter—some within mere hours of the stabbing.

The prosecution attempted to rebut this with additional testimony, but ultimately withdrew further evidence. The courtroom was tense as the lawyers prepared their final arguments.

🖋️ 🗣️ Ink and Oratory: Lincoln’s Last Summation

The closing arguments began with Mr. Broadwell for the prosecution, followed by Judge Logan for the defense. When Shelby Cullom fell ill from the heat, Logan stepped in and delivered a powerful address, marked by earnestness and eloquence.

Then came Lincoln.

He spoke for two hours, dissecting the evidence with clarity and precision. His argument was described as subtle, logical, and deeply persuasive—delivered in a natural and energetic style that captivated the courtroom. He responded point-by-point to the prosecution’s claims, using vivid illustrations and legal reasoning to frame Harrison’s actions as self-defense.

After a final rebuttal from Mr. Palmer, the jury retired.

❎ Verdict Reached: Not Guilty

At 5:21 p.m., after just over an hour of deliberation, the jury returned with their decision. Judge Rice read aloud: “We, the Jury, find the defendant Not Guilty as charged in the indictment.”

The courtroom erupted in applause. Harrison was immediately discharged and greeted by friends with joy and solemn dignity. The trial had lasted four days, and throughout, the courthouse had been filled to capacity—testament to the public’s deep investment in the outcome.

🔚 Legacy: Lincoln’s Final Defense

This trial marked the end of Abraham Lincoln’s career as a criminal defense attorney. His performance—measured, strategic, and deeply human—reflected the qualities that would soon define his presidency.

But Lincoln’s final murder trial wasn’t just a legal milestone—it was a public spectacle. Springfield’s rival newspapers, the Journal and the Register, turned the courtroom into a battleground of ink and ideology. Their dueling editorials, partisan accusations, and blow-by-blow coverage amplified the stakes and shaped public perception long before the jury was sworn in.

From the packed courthouse to the fevered press gallery, the trial revealed not only Lincoln’s mastery of the law, but his ability to navigate the volatile intersection of justice, politics, and public opinion.

From his first murder trial in 1838 to this final one in 1859, Lincoln’s courtroom legacy reveals a man who understood not just the law, but perhaps more importantly, the people behind it—and the power of the narrative that surrounded them.

A final defense, a lasting impression—another anecdote from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Hooked on Honest Old Abe’s courtroom drama? Here are two more tales from the docket on Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller:

Abe's first murder trial back in 1838 was a surprise to the courtroom spectators—and to Lincoln himself! [Read: A Rookie's Bold Debut]

An abused woman and a murder charge—how did Lincoln help poor, old Mrs. Goings? [Read: The Day his Actions Spoke Louder Than His Words]

📚 Works Cited

Newspaper Articles:

• Illinois State Register. “Affray at Richland—Probable Fatal Stabbing.” 18 July 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “Death of Greek Crafton.” 20 July 1859, ed. 2. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Richland Homicide.” 20 July 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Crafton Stabbing Affair.” 21 July 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. Untitled. 22 July 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Case.” 27 July 1859, ed. 2. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Harrison Case.” 2 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “Surrender of Harrison—Examination Set for To-Day.” 2 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “Examination of Harrison for the Murder of Crafton.” 3 Aug. 1859, ed. 2. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Harrison Case.” 3 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Case.” 4 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Register. “Conclusion of the Examination of Harrison.” 4 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “Indictment of Harrison.” 29 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Harrison Indictment.” 30 Aug. 1859. 
• Springfield Evening Independent. “The Harrison Case.” 31 Aug. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Case.” 1 Sept. 1859, ed. 2. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Case.” 1 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Register and the Grand Jury.” 1 Sept. 1859, ed. 2. 
• Illinois State Register. Untitled. 1 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. Untitled. 2 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “Trial of P. Quinn Harrison, Indicted for the Murder of Greek Crafton.” 2 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Harrison Case.” 2 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Trial.” 3 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Register. “The Harrison Case.” 3 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Journal. “The Harrison Trial—Verdict, Not Guilty.” 5 Sept. 1859. 
• Illinois State Register. “Harrison Acquitted.” 5 Sept. 1859.

Secondary Source:

Abrams, Dan, and David Fisher. (2018) Lincoln’s Last Trial: The Murder Case That Propelled Him to the Presidency. New York City, NY: Hanover Square Press.

⚖️ Abraham Lincoln’s First Murder Trial: A Rookie’s Bold Debut

Judge Logan in the Sangamon County Circuit Court
grants Abraham Lincoln's application to become
an attorney by certifying in the court record that Lincoln
was a person of good moral character on March 24, 1836.
(1979 Print by Lloyd Ostendorf)

Before he was the Great Emancipator, Abraham Lincoln was a young lawyer navigating the rough-and-tumble world of Illinois law. His first brush with a murder trial came in 1838, and it was anything but ordinary.

🏨 The Scene: A Hotel Lobby Turns Deadly

On a quiet evening in mid-March 1838, Dr. Jacob Early sat reading in the lobby of the Colonel Spottswood Hotel in Springfield, Illinois. Henry B. Truett, a politically embattled appointee, stood nearby by the fireplace—seething. Truett had recently been rejected for a federal land office post in Galena, and he believed Early was the author of the petition that torpedoed his nomination.

When confronted, Early admitted to writing the disapproval notice. The conversation quickly escalated. Truett hurled insults; Early demanded to know Truett’s source. When Truett refused, Early stood up and raised a chair in a threatening gesture. Truett backed away, pulled a pistol, and shot Early in the side. The doctor died days later, but not before giving a damning dying declaration.

🕵️‍♀️ Conflicting Accounts: Did Truett Leave to Get the Gun?

One curious detail in the Truett case involves the moment the fatal shot was fired. Some accounts suggest that Truett left the hotel lobby to retrieve a pistol before returning to confront Dr. Early. Others—like the Sangamon County narrative—describe him pulling the weapon on the spot after a heated exchange. [1 & 2]

So which version is accurate?

The truth is, we may never know for certain. Trial records from 1838 are sparse, and newspaper reporting at the time often relied on secondhand accounts or partisan perspectives. What we do know is that Lincoln’s defense hinged on the idea of immediacy—that Truett acted in self-defense when threatened with a raised chair. Whether the gun was already on him or fetched moments earlier, Lincoln’s argument focused on the perceived danger in that instant—a split-second act of self-preservation.

⚔️ The Legal Lineup: Lincoln vs. Douglas

The trial that followed was a political and legal spectacle. Truett retained a formidable defense team: Stephen T. Logan, Edward Baker, and a young newbie, Abraham Lincoln. The prosecution was led by Stephen A. Douglas—yes, that Douglas—who enlisted David Woodson to assist.

Lincoln was still a rookie, but he knew the defendant, the victim, and at least five of the jurors. Jury selection was intense: 20 people were struck peremptorily, and 300–400 were challenged for cause. Despite his inexperience, Lincoln was given full responsibility for the defense strategy. [1]

With public sentiment leaning heavily toward conviction, the prosecution—led by none other than Stephen A. Douglas—seemed to have a slam-dunk case. The question wasn’t guilt, but how soon the hanging would be.

🎤 Lincoln’s Role: The Power of Persuasion

The trial last three days. [1]

Truett's team built the case around a plea of self-defense. The raised chair, they argued, was a clear sign of imminent attack. Truett’s single shot was not premeditated murder—it was a reaction to a perceived threat.

When it came time for closing arguments, Logan handed the reins to Lincoln. It was a bold move, entrusting the final summation to a young lawyer who had never tried a murder case. But Lincoln delivered. His argument was so compelling that the jury deliberated for just 1 hour and 40 minutes before returning a verdict of not guilty. [1]

The public was stunned. Truett may have lost his political post and lived under suspicion for years, but he walked away from a surefire date with the hangman's noose.

🧩 Rethinking Lincoln’s Criminal Record

Critics often claim Lincoln wasn’t a strong criminal defense attorney, citing his limited number of cases and several convictions. But many of those “losses” were actually manslaughter verdicts—far preferable to the death penalty for a murder verdict. Lincoln’s legal practice was a business, and criminal cases rarely paid well, which explains his selective docket. [2]

Still, the Truett case reveals something deeper: Lincoln’s early ability to sway hearts and minds, even when the odds were stacked against him. That persuasive power would later become a hallmark of his political career.

🥊 Bonus Trivia: Lincoln vs. Douglas, Round One

Before they sparred on the national stage, Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas met in a much smaller arena—a Springfield courtroom. In People v. Truett, Douglas served as prosecutor, while Lincoln was part of the defense team. Both were still relatively unknown, frontier lawyers carving out reputations in the rough political landscape of antebellum Illinois.

This trial marked the first recorded clash between the two men whose rivalry would later shape the course of American history. Though the stakes were local, the courtroom tension foreshadowed the ideological battles to come. Lincoln’s successful defense and Douglas’s failed prosecution were early signs of the persuasive power each man would wield in the years ahead.

A surprise in the courtroom, a name destined for history—another legal anecdote from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Hooked on Honest Old Abe’s courtroom drama? Here are two more tales from the docket on Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller:

A fatal stabbing, a family feud, and a press war—Lincoln’s last murder trial had it all. [Read: A Knife, A Grudge, and a Political Storm]

An abused woman and a murder charge—how did Lincoln help poor, old Mrs. Goings? [Read: The Day his Actions Spoke Louder Than His Words]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Little, Savannah. “People v. Truett – March 1838 – October 1838.” Sangamon County Circuit Clerk Archives, Lincoln Library, Springfield IL Microfilm Collection, March & Oct 1838 Illinois State Journal, www.lawpracticeofabrahamlincoln.org/Details.aspx?case=140184.. Accessed 18 Sept. 2025.

[2] Dekle, George R. Sr. Abraham Lincoln's Almanac Trial Blog - April 29, 2014. Retrieved September 18, 2025. 

A 'Promise' to Be Kept: How Abraham Lincoln Viewed The Declaration of Independence

 

“Let us readopt the Declaration of Independence, and with it the practices and policy which harmonize with it.” ~ Cooper Union Address (1860) [1]

That’s not just a profound statement—it’s a goal Abraham Lincoln wrestled to fulfill throughout his presidency. The Declaration of Independence lays out timeless ideals: liberty, equality, government by consent. But whether today’s political and social activities jibe with those ideals—or mock them—is a question best answered through Lincoln’s own words.

Let’s see what he had to say.

📜 What the Declaration Says

At its core, the Declaration states:

• All men are created equal
• They are endowed with certain unalienable rights
• Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed
• People have the right to alter or abolish destructive governments

These principles are not policy—they’re philosophical commitments. And they’ve been invoked by abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights leaders, and yes, even politicians—each claiming to defend or restore those ideals.

🔍 Lincoln’s Take

Lincoln saw the Declaration as a moral compass—a "promise" to be kept. In his speech at Springfield, Illinois, on July 17, 1858, during his Senate campaign against Stephen Douglas, he said:

“It was not the mere matter of the separation of the colonies from the mother land; but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but hope to all the world, for all future time. It was that which gave promise that in due time the weights should be lifted from the shoulders of all men…” [1]

He believed the Declaration was a standard toward which to strive , not a description of reality. It was not a completed achievement, but a moral commitment that must be fulfilled over time.

He continued in that same speech:

“This is a world of compensations; and he who would be no slave, must consent to have no slave. Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, cannot long retain it.” [1]

This idea recurs in his later speeches—most famously in the Gettysburg Address, where he speaks of the nation being “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” That phrase, lifted directly from the Declaration, became the moral center of Lincoln’s wartime vision.

📅 Today’s Activities: Jibe or Mock?

Some would argue:

Jibe: When laws expand rights, protect speech, or ensure equal access, they honor the Declaration.

Mock: When power is abused, rights are denied, or truth is manipulated, they betray its spirit.

But through the Lincolnian lens: The Declaration is not a relic—it’s a challenge. Every generation must decide for itself whether it’s living up to the promise or falling short. 

🗽Conclusion

Lincoln didn’t treat the Declaration as a museum piece. He treated it as a living document—a moral North Star. In a time when political discourse often feels unmoored, returning to Lincoln’s framing reminds us: The "promise" of liberty and equality is not self-executing. It must be renewed, defended, lived—and above all, kept.

That’s not just history. 

That’s the American way.

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

Mac

To Lincoln, the principles of the Declaration weren’t just lofty ideals—they were worth fighting for. He once dropped through a trap door to stop a mob bent on shutting down a political speech. [Read: The Trap Door Rescue: Abraham Lincoln and the Fight for Free Speech.]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Lincoln, Abraham. The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Vols. 2 and 3, edited by Roy P. Basler et al., Rutgers University Press, 1953, Vol. 2, pp. 499–500 and Vol. 3, pp. 547-556.

The Trap Door Rescue: Abraham Lincoln and the Fight for Free Speech

Abraham Lincoln (1846) [*]

In the heat of the 1840 campaign, Abraham Lincoln wasn’t just a rising political figure—he was a defender of principle, a protector of friends, and, on one unforgettable night, a man who literally dropped into a courtroom to uphold the right to speak freely.

Lincoln’s friendship with Edward D. Baker spanned more than two decades, surviving political differences and geographic distance. In fact, Lincoln named his second son Edward Baker Lincoln in honor of the fiery orator. Baker, known for his brilliance and boldness, was campaigning for the Illinois State Senate when his words nearly got him pulled from the platform—until Lincoln intervened in dramatic fashion.

🎤 The Speech That Sparked a Storm

Baker was addressing a crowd in the courtroom below Lincoln’s law office, which he shared with his first law partner, John T. Stuart. As Baker launched into a scathing critique of Democratic newspaper editors—accusing them of defending corruption wherever land offices existed—he struck a nerve. The crowd grew restless. Tension mounted. The brother of a local editor, incensed by the accusation, shouted “Pull him down!” and the mob surged toward the stage.

Baker, pale but defiant, braced himself for a fight.

⬇️ Lincoln Drops In—Literally

Above the platform was a trap door that opened into Lincoln’s office. As William Herndon recalled, Lincoln had been lying on the floor, watching the speech unfold through the opening. When the crowd threatened violence, Lincoln acted.

A pair of long legs appeared through the trap door. Then Lincoln dropped onto the platform, seized a stone water pitcher, and raised it high—ready to defend his friend.

“Hold on, gentlemen,” Lincoln shouted. “This is the land of free speech. Mr. Baker has a right to speak and ought to be heard. I am here to protect him, and no man shall take him from this stand if I can prevent it.”

The crowd quieted. Baker continued his speech. And Lincoln’s impromptu defense became legend.

🗣️ A Voice for Liberty

Fellow Whig Usher Linder, also present that night, later quoted a slightly different version of Lincoln’s words to biographer Josiah G. Holland:

“Gentlemen, let us not disgrace the age and country in which we live. This is a land where freedom of speech is guaranteed. Mr. Baker has a right to speak and ought to be permitted to do so. None shall take him from the stand while I am here if I can prevent it.” [2]

However he phrased it, the gist of Lincoln’s defense of Baker wasn’t just about friendship—it was about principle. Even in the rough-and-tumble world of frontier politics, Lincoln stood for civil discourse and constitutional rights.

Another footnote in the life of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

[*] This daguerreotype is the earliest (1846) confirmed photographic image of Abraham Lincoln. It was taken by Nicholas H. Shepherd of Shepherd's Daguerreotype Miniature Gallery, in Springfield, IL. Little known fact: Shepherd also studied law at the law office of Lincoln and Herndon but never became a lawyer.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Browne, Francis F. (1913) The Every-Day Life of Abraham Lincoln. Chicago, IL: Browne and Howell Company.

[2] Holland, Josiah G. (1866) Life of Abraham Lincoln. Springfield, MA: Gurdon Bill.

Abraham Lincoln’s Cooper Union Address: A Masterclass in the Geometry of Persuasion

How Euclid’s Method Turned a Speech into a Presidency

Abraham Lincoln delivering his address
at Cooper Union in New York City in February 1860.

In a biography about Abraham Lincoln, one of his contemporaries on the Eighth Judicial Circuit in Illinois, Henry Clay Whitney made this startling comment:

"...it is fair to suppose that in his evolution from a cornfield logician and log cabin orator...his study of the six books of Euclid held a place." [1]

This revelation—that Lincoln studied geometry not for practical application but for intellectual discipline—might seem eccentric. But it echoes a much older tradition. Quintilian, the Roman educator and rhetorician born in 35 AD, argued that geometry was essential to the making of a great orator. In his Institutio Oratoria, he wrote:

"No man, assuredly, can become a perfect orator without a knowledge of geometry. It is not without reason that the greatest men have bestowed extreme attention on this science." [2]

Lincoln and the Geometry of Justice

Lincoln, it seems, was one of those men. His Cooper Union Address [*], delivered in 1860, is widely regarded as a masterclass in rational argumentation. Most historians call it "the speech that made Lincoln president."

In its first section, Lincoln meticulously cited the Founding Fathers—by name, vote, and legislative record—to prove that they opposed the expansion of slavery into the territories. It reads, as many scholars have noted, like a lawyer’s brief: stripped of rhetorical flourish and focused on historical evidence and constitutional logic.

Yet Lincoln’s clarity wasn’t merely legal—it was mathematical. In an age of fiery rhetoric and political spectacle, he stood apart as a disciplined thinker. His study of Euclid’s Elements honed his logical rigor, and at Cooper Union, he applied that geometric precision to the moral crisis of slavery. This fusion of classical logic and political persuasion helped transform him from prairie lawyer to presidential contender—and it remains a masterclass in how reason can illuminate justice.

 Euclid’s Six-Part Structure

From the first six books of Euclid’s Elements about Plane Geometry, Lincoln learned that a proper logical argument has six components:

1. Enunciation – State the proposition.

2. Exposition – Clarify the terms.

3. Specification – Identify what’s being examined.

4. Construction – Lay out the framework.

5. Proof – Demonstrate the truth.

6. Conclusion – Tie it all together.

Lincoln applied this structure like a master geometer—but to political reasoning instead of triangles.

🗣️ Cooper Union Address (1860)

This speech was Lincoln’s intellectual coming-out party in New York City. He argued that the Founding Fathers opposed the expansion of slavery—and he did it with Euclidean precision.

Let’s map the speech to Euclid’s structure:

Euclidean Element	Lincoln’s Speech Example
Enunciation	“The question is: Did the Founding Fathers believe Congress could regulate slavery in the territories?”
Exposition	He defines key terms like “territories,” “regulate,” and “slavery.”
Specification	He identifies 39 Founding Fathers and examines their votes and writings.
Construction	He builds a framework using historical records, laws, and resolutions.
Proof	He shows that a majority of these men supported federal regulation of slavery.
Conclusion	“Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith, let us...dare to do our duty.”

Lincoln’s logic was so airtight that even skeptical Eastern elites were won over. It wasn’t just persuasive—it was mathematically elegant.

That said however, Lincoln wasn’t devoid of emotional appeal. The second and third parts of the speech shift tone:

In Part Two, he spokes directly to the South, challenging their claim to be the true conservatives. He reframed "conservatism" as fidelity to the Founders’ ideals, subtly invoking moral clarity.

In Part Three, he appealed to Republicans not to abandon their principles for political expediency. Although its the conclusion to his carefully crafted logic, Lincoln's closing line—“Let us have faith that right makes might…”—is deeply stirring. [3]

So, Lincoln began with reason and ended with moral conviction. It’s not emotion in the theatrical sense, but a kind of ethical urgency that elevates the speech from mere argument to a call for conscience.

Conclusion:

Just as Euclid built geometry from axioms, Lincoln built his moral arguments from historical truths and logical clarity. In the Cooper Union Address, he didn’t rely on fiery appeals or partisan fervor—he reasoned like a philosopher and proved like a mathematician. His words were not just persuasive; they were structurally sound, grounded in intellectual architecture that still resonates today. By fusing classical logic with political conviction, Lincoln transformed a speech into a blueprint for justice—and a moment into a movement.

This is another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

[*] There were 1,500 people in the audience on that snowy February night in New York City. One attendee wrote, “No man ever before made such an impression on his first appeal to a New York audience.” [4]

Lincoln’s Cooper Union Address ran nearly 7,000 words. [For comparison, the Gettysburg Address was just 272.] Yet every word was printed in full by The New York Times and circulated widely as campaign literature. Why? Because Lincoln wasn’t just giving a lecture—he was answering Southern Democrats who threatened secession if a Republican won the presidency.

This wasn’t a stump speech—it was a constitutional argument, a moral reckoning, and a political audition rolled into one. And because of Euclid, it worked. Three months later, Lincoln secured the Republican nomination. Six months after that, he was elected president.

🎩 Enjoy deep dives like this one? Then here's one you'll really like: [Read: Abe Lincoln the Dialectic: A Mind Forged in Contradiction ]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Whitney, Henry C. (1908) Life of Lincoln. New York, NY: The Baker & Taylor Company.

[2] Quintilian. Institutes of Oratory. Edited by Lee Honeycutt, translated by John Selby Watson, Iowa State University, 2006. Accessed 4 Sept. 2025

[3] "Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 3 [August 21, 1858 to March 4, 1860]." In the digital collection Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. https://quod.lib.umich.edu/l/lincoln/lincoln3?view=toc. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed September 1, 2025.

[4] “And That’s the Way It Was: February 27, 1860.” Columbia Journalism Review, www.cjr.org/the_kicker/and_thats_the_way_it_was_febru_12.php.. Accessed 9 Sept. 2025.

Lincoln's Lost Words: The Speech That Shaped His Destiny

 

The cover illustration of
Elwell Crissey's 1967 book:
Lincoln's Lost Speech

The year was 1856. It was late May, and the place was Major's Hall, at the corner of East and Front Streets in downtown Bloomington, Illinois. A gathering of men from across the political spectrum—Whigs, Free Soilers, Abolitionists, anti-slavery Democrats, and others—had come together to discuss how to put the genie back in the bottle.

The genie, of course, was the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, which unleashed a wave of bloodshed in the territory of Kansas. Pro-slavery and anti-slavery forces clashed violently as they fought to decide for themselves—a new concept called popular sovereignty—a question that was anything but new: Slave or Free?

The bottle from which the genie had escaped was labeled the Missouri Compromise of 1820. For over thirty years, that compromise had kept an uneasy peace by containing slavery with a line drawn across the map—and across the nation's conscience. But once the Kansas-Nebraska Act shattered that seal, the genie was out—and it would not go back in.

This convention marked the official formation of "Republican Party" in Illinois. Chairman John M. Palmer was elected convention president after his opening address. Nine vice presidents and five secretaries were then elected. The convention nominated Bissell for governor with Francis Hoffmann as lieutenant governor, Ozias M. Hatch for secretary of state, Jesse K. Dubois as auditor, and James Miller as treasurer. Hoffmann was found to be ineligible for his position due to a residency requirement, and John Wood was nominated in his place. Six resolutions defining the party platform were then approved. [1]

And then came the moment for which no one had planned.

The convention had officially ended. Abraham Lincoln, not even scheduled to speak, was urged to the podium by friends, and the crowd—some 1,500 strong—lingered, expecting a light-hearted sendoff to a long day of speeches and resolutions. 

What followed, however, was not the storyteller they knew. It was someone else entirely. Instead of laughing, they were awestruck.

The man usually described as “silent,” “taciturn,” and “reserved” now stood ablaze with conviction. His voice rose, his gestures sharpened, and his words cut deep. He condemned the Kansas-Nebraska Act with a fury that startled even his closest allies. Slavery, he warned, would tear the Union apart if allowed to spread further into free territory.

William Herndon, Lincoln’s longtime law partner and biographer, later reflected on that night with awe. Herndon called it “the grand effort of his life.” Herndon had heard or read all of Lincoln’s major speeches, but this one, he said, had a different ethos:

“full of fire and energy and force; it was logic; it was pathos; it was enthusiasm; it was justice, equity, truth, right, and good, set ablaze by the divine fires of a soul maddened by wrong; it was hard, heavy, knotty, gnarly, edged, and heated." [2]  

In fact, it was so electrifying that Herndon admitted he was caught up in it. 

"I attempted for about fifteen minutes, as was usual with me then, to take notes; but at the end of that time I threw pen and paper to the dogs, and lived only in the inspiration of the hour. If Mr. Lincoln was six feet four inches high usually, at Bloomington he was seven feet . . ." [2]

No transcript of this speech was ever made. Like Herndon, no journalist scribbled it down. No stenographer captured it. They, too, were spellbound. And yet, nearly every one of the 1,500 people packed into Major’s Hall that evening remembered one line with crystal clarity:

“We won't go out of the Union AND YOU SHAN'T!” [3]

It was a declaration, a defiance, and a promise all at once. Lincoln’s voice—usually measured and restrained—had thundered with determination. He wasn’t just condemning a piece of legislation. He was drawing a moral line in the sand.

Henry C. Whitney, decades later, even remembered the feeling that line gave him:

"The close of the sentence was uttered in such an earnest, impressive, if not, indeed, tragic manner, as to make a cold chill creep over me. Others gave a similar experience."[4]

That passage is a thunderclap. Whitney’s account doesn’t just describe a speech—it captures a moment of spiritual transfiguration. 

From that day forward, Lincoln was no longer just a cautious statesman parsing policy—he was a prophet of principle. The speech he gave that night in Bloomington, though its words are lost to history, survived by its impact. It marked the moment when Lincoln stepped fully into the light of moral leadership, no longer hedging, no longer calculating. He embraced his cause, and it burned within him.

Herndon saw it. Whitney felt it. The crowd lived it. And though no transcript remains, the fire of that night personified a nation that would soon be asked to choose between compromise and conscience.

Bloomington was not the beginning of Lincoln’s greatness. But it was the moment he chose to bear the full weight of the task before him.

This is another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Were you intrigued by the surprised reaction to Lincoln’s Lost Speech? Here’s a famous speech of Lincoln's that wasn't lost, but it nearly slipped through history’s fingers. [Read: The Famous Speech That Nearly Vanished]

📚 Works Cited

[1] Raum, Green Berry (1900). History of Illinois Republicanism. Chicago, IL: Rollins Publishing Company. Retrieved August 27, 2025.

[2] Browne, Francis Fisher (1913) The Every-Day Life of Abraham Lincoln. Chicago, IL: Browne and Howell Company.

[3] Crissy, Elwell (1967) Lincoln’s Lost Speech: The Pivot of His Career. New York, NY: Hawthorn Books.

[4] Whitney, Henry Clay (1908) Life of Lincoln, Volume I. New York, NY: The Baker & Taylor Company.

The Honest Abe You Didn’t Know: Handball Hustler

Lloyd Ostendorf print of Lincoln
playing handball (1971)

Yep, you read that right. Abraham Lincoln—the 16th President of the United States, the Savior of the Union, and our first martyred leader—was a handball guy.

With football season fast approaching (and let’s be clear: football has nothing to do with handball), it feels timely to spotlight Lincoln’s athletic side. Because, believe it or not, Lincoln was kind of a jock.

Even he admitted it:

“For such an awkward fellow, I am pretty sure-footed. It used to take a pretty dexterous man to throw me.” [1]

His legendary strength and wrestling prowess are well documented, but Lincoln’s love of sport went far beyond grappling. He enjoyed running, the standing broad jump, “corner ball” (an old Amish/Mennonite game), and bowling—known then as “rolling ten pins.” These weren’t idle pastimes. Lincoln saw physical activity as essential for both body and mind. [2]

And competition was his lifeblood.

But it was handball—called “fives” in his day, named for the open-handed strike—that became Lincoln’s sport of choice in middle age. The game could be played with two, four, or six players, divided evenly into teams. Lincoln typically played doubles, and among his Springfield circle, the matches were fast-paced, physical, and fiercely competitive.

Why so intense? Because the losers paid 10¢ each—a not-so-trivial sum at the time (about $3.25 today). Depending on the number of players, the winners could walk away with 10 to 30¢ per game. That little wager added fuel to Lincoln’s already fiery drive to win.

Dr. Preston H. Bailhache described the action:

“It began with one person bouncing the ball on the ground and striking it with his hand toward the wall… and as it bounds back from the wall one of the opponents strikes it in the same manner, so that the ball is kept going back and forth against the wall until someone misses the rebound, which furnishes a very active and exciting contest.” [3]

Although the matches were active and exciting, even back then, the setting in which to play them was anything but—especially in a midwestern frontier town.

🏘️ Springfield’s Handball Alley

Their court of choice? A vacant lot in Springfield, Illinois. The brick walls of the Illinois State Journal newspaper building and the John Carmody store formed the front and back boundaries. Hardpacked dirt made up the surface. The other two sides were enclosed by wooden fences, six to eight feet high, with rough bench seating for spectators and players awaiting their turn. [4]

Court clerk Thomas W.S. Kidd recalled Lincoln’s enthusiasm and competitive nature:

“In 1859… Mr. Lincoln [was] vigorously engaged in the sport as though life depended upon it. He would play until nearly exhausted and then take a seat on the rough board benches arranged along the sides for the accommodation of friends and the tired players.” [5]

There was some dispute, however, as to how good Lincoln really was. Many said he was often the winner because his long arms and long legs were perfect for reaching and returning the ball from any angle his adversary could send it. But one young man, William Donnelly, the nephew of the store owner, Carmody, whose shop served as the backstop of the handball court, begged to differ:

“Mr. Lincoln was not a good player. He learned the game when he was too old. But he liked to play and did tolerably well." [4]

 Kidd also recounted a particularly intense match where Lincoln and his teammate, William Turney, collided while chasing a ball. Both were hurt—but, as Kidd wryly noted, “not so badly as to discourage either from being found in the ‘alley’ the next day.” [5]

🕰️ Lincoln’s Last Game

Even during the three-day Republican National Convention in Chicago (May 16–18, 1860), Lincoln reportedly played handball daily in that same Springfield lot—relieving the stress of waiting for news of his nomination to arrive by telegraph. [5]

Historians agree: Lincoln never played handball again after that week.

So it turns out, Lincoln didn’t just charge juries or run wars—he also knew how to serve up a mean handball.

🏆 Lincoln the Competitor

What drove Lincoln's love of handball—and nearly everything else in his life was Lincoln's fierce competitive streak. 

Whether on the handball court, in courtroom arguments, during stump speeches, or competitive debates, Lincoln played to win. His mastery of language, Euclid, his relentless preparation for every speech or court case, and his strategic mind weren’t just indicators of brilliance—they were also signs of a man who hated to lose. Even as Commander-in-Chief, Lincoln out-maneuvered rivals, reshaped public opinion, and fought for control of the war narrative. His competitiveness wasn’t loud or boastful—it was quiet, focused, and deeply embedded in everything he did.

Another glimpse into the archives of Abraham Lincoln—storyteller, statesman, and handball hustler.

Mac

Postscript: 

In October 2004, the Smithsonian Institution displayed what it claimed was Abraham Lincoln’s handball as part of its exhibit “Sports: Breaking Records, Breaking Barriers.” The ball—small (about the size of a tennis ball), dirty, and well-worn—came from the Lincoln Home in Springfield, where Lincoln lived with his family from 1844 to 1861. [4]

It was discovered in a dresser drawer during restoration work in the 1950s. Smithsonian officials say it was donated by descendants of one of Lincoln’s handball partners. Whether Lincoln actually used the ball is uncertain—but the possibility is undeniably intriguing. [4]

This is a handball from Abraham Lincoln's time.
(Courtesy of the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C.)

📚 Works Cited

[1] Burlingame, Michael and John R. Turner Ettlinger, editors. Inside Lincoln’s White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay (November 8, 1864). p. 244.

[2] "Abraham Lincoln the Athlete". Abraham Lincoln's Classroom: The Lehrman Institute Presents. Retrieved August 24, 2025.

[3] “Lincolniana Notes: Recollections of a Springfield Doctor”, Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, June 1954. p. 60.

[4] Hunter, Al. "The Abraham Lincoln Handball". The Weekly View Community Newspaper (Indianapolis, IN) website, September 20, 2018. Retrieved August 20, 2025. 

[5] Thomas W. S. Kidd, “How Abraham Lincoln Received the News of His Nomination for President,” Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, April-July 1922. pp. 508-509.