Niagara Falls Through Lincoln's Eyes: : A Journey into Wonder

1882 Illustration of Niagara Falls
Sketched from a Hot Air Balloon

In addition to his stories, Abraham Lincoln was also known for his unique sense of irony. His law partner, William Herndon, on the other hand, had none. 

During one of their many non-legal discussions, Herndon expansively detailed his impression of Niagara Falls - with its “mad rush of water, the roar, the rapids, and the rainbow.” He then asked Lincoln for his opinion of the Falls, and Lincoln replied, “The thing that struck me most forcibly when I saw the Falls was, where in the world did all that water come from?”

But don't mistake Lincoln's irony for simplicity like many of Lincoln's adversaries often did.

Lincoln and his wife Mary visited Niagara Falls in 1849, as they were returning to Springfield from Lincoln's two-year stint in Congress. Later, on the steamboat home, Lincoln wrote down his thoughts and reflections about the natural wonder. 

“It calls up the indefinite past. When Columbus first sought this continent—when Christ suffered on the cross—when Moses led Israel through the Red Sea—nay, even, when Adam first came from the hand of his Maker—then as now, Niagara was roaring here… ”

Lincoln was not entirely correct geologically and historically - as science has learned since 1849. However, his wonder of such a magnificent natural phenomenon, and his attempt to place its longevity relative to the knowable past indicates a deep sense of the world around him.

Or to borrow from Einstein's Relativity of Simultaneity - (and with due apologies for the misrepresentation) - two thoughts, simultaneous for one person may not be simultaneous for another person in a relative situation.

While Herndon marveled at “the roar, the rapids and the rainbow” of Niagara Falls, Lincoln saw something deeper: a timeless connection between the present and the “indefinite past.” In his Niagara Fragment, Lincoln wrote, 

“It calls up the indefinite past. When Columbus first sought this continent—when Christ suffered on the cross—when Moses led Israel through the Red Sea—nay, even when Adam first came from the hand of his Maker—then as now, Niagara was roaring here.” 

His reflection evokes the sweeping perspective found in James A. Michener’s Centennial, which traces the history of Colorado from prehistoric times to the 1970s. Like Michener, Lincoln viewed Niagara not just as a spectacle of nature, but as a witness to the vast arc of human and geological history—a place where “then” and “now” quietly coexist.

While Lincoln loved to tease Herndon, Lincoln's depth of thought was unbelievable—and often unshared.

Below is the full fragment of Lincoln's thoughts on 'Niagara Falls!' from Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln (1953) by Roy Basler, but note, the manuscript stops abruptly with an unfinished sentence. Was that comma at the end - 'never rested,' - Lincoln's emphasis on its continuity into the future?

This fragment from the archives—where nature’s grandeur met Lincoln’s gift for timeless metaphor—simply adds to the legend of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Niagara Falls made such an impression on Lincoln that in the middle of the war, he took time to protect Yosemite from developers. [Read: "Lincoln's 🌊 "Niagara Fragment" Was 🏞️ Yosemite’s Salvation"]

📚 Works Cited

Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volume 2: pp. 10-11

Niagara-Falls ! By what mysterious power is it that millions and millions, are drawn from all parts of the world, to gaze upon Niagara Falls ? 

There is no mystery about the thing itself. Every effect is just such as any inteligent man knowing the causes, would anticipate, without [seeing] it. If the water moving onward in a great river, reaches a point where there is a perpendicular jog, of a hundred feet in descent, in the bottom of the river,---it is plain the water will have a violent and continuous plunge at that point. It is also plain the water, thus plunging, will foam, and roar, and send up a mist, continuously, in which last, during sunshine, there will be perpetual rain-bows. The mere physical of Niagara Falls is only this. 

Yet this is really a very small part of that world's wonder. It's power to excite reflection, and emotion, is it's great charm. The geologist will demonstrate that the plunge, or fall, was once at Lake Ontario, and has worn it's way back to it's present position; he will ascertain how fast it is wearing now, and so get a basis for determining how long it has been wearing back from Lake Ontario, and finally demonstrate by it that this world is at least fourteen thousand years old. A philosopher of a slightly different turn will say Niagara Falls is only the lip of the basin out of which pours all the surplus water which rains down on two or three hundred thousand square miles of the earth's surface. He will estim[ate with] approximate accuracy, that five hundred thousand [to]ns of water, falls with it's full weight, a distance of a hundred feet each minute---thus exerting a force equal to the lifting of the same weight, through the same space, in the same time. And then the further reflection comes that this vast amount of water, constantly pouring down, is supplied by an equal amount constantly lifted up, by the sun; and still he says, 'If this much is lifted up, for this one space of two or three hundred thousand square miles, an equal amount must be lifted for every other equal space,' and he is overwhelmed in the contemplation of the vast power the sun is constantly exerting in quiet, noiseless opperation of lifting water up to be rained down again.

But still there is more. It calls up the indefinite past. When Columbus first sought this continent---when Christ suffered on the cross---when Moses led Israel through the Red-Sea---nay, even, when Adam first came from the hand of his Maker---then as now, Niagara was roaring here. The eyes of that species of extinct giants, whose bones fill the mounds of America, have gazed on Niagara, as ours do now. 

Co[n]temporary with the whole race of men, and older than the first man, Niagara is strong, and fresh to-day as ten thousand years ago. The Mammoth and Mastadon---now so long dead, that fragments of their monstrous bones, alone testify, that they ever lived, have gazed on Niagara. In that long---long time, never still for a single moment. Never dried, never froze, never slept, never rested,

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Lincoln's Eel Story: Wit and Wisdom in the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas Debates

 

Lincoln Douglas Debate of 1858 Statue
by sculptor Lily Tolpo
Dedicated on August 27, 1992,
the 134th anniversary of the debate.

Spreading false information or creating misinformation in a political campaign is nothing new. Abraham Lincoln faced the same issues during his time. However, Lincoln had a keen understanding of human nature. He often countered such tactics with biting ridicule thinly disguised as a witty anecdote and or a famous quote to make the perpetrators appear foolish to the voters.

This practice is evident during his fifth debate with Stephen Douglas in their famous "Great Debates" for a U.S. Senate seat in 1858. 

That day in Galesburg, Illinois, Senator Douglas spoke first. At one point in his presentation, Douglas, in an attempt to falsely portray Lincoln as an "extreme abolitionist", read a set of resolutions supposedly passed four years previously in 1854 by a convention held in Springfield against the admission of Nebraska as a slave state. These so-called "resolutions" were published in a Springfield newspaper a few days after the convention.

When it was Lincoln's turn to respond, Lincoln agreed that the resolutions read by Douglas were, indeed, the same ones published back in October 1854. But then Lincoln charged that the resolutions were not the ones actually passed by the Anti-Nebraska convention [*] at that time, and that Douglas - along with the editor of the newspaper, Charles Lanphier and another man named Thomas Harris - were part of this "forgery".

Lincoln was scrupulously honest - an unusual virtue for a politician then (or now). So rather than just blatantly accuse Douglas of writing this fake news and leave it at that, Lincoln actually built a "case" for his charge.  

The idea that it was done by mistake, is absurd. The article . . . contains part of the real proceedings of that Springfield Convention, showing that the writer of the article had the real proceedings before him, and purposely threw out the genuine resolutions passed by the Convention, and fraudulently substituted the others . . . The main object of that forgery at that time was to beat [Richard] Yates and elect Harris to Congress, and that object was known to be exceedingly dear to Judge Douglas at that time. [1]

Lincoln then accused the men of using the forgery more than once, but in doing so, he made them the butt of a memorable joke: 

"The fraud having been apparently successful upon the occasion, both Harris and Douglas have more than once since then been attempting to put it to new uses. As the fisherman's wife, whose drowned husband was brought home with his clothing full of eels [a delicacy at the time], said when they asked her, 

"What is to be done with him?" 

"Take the eels and set him out again." 

So Harris and Douglas have shown a disposition to take the 'eels' out of that stale fraud by which they gained Harris' election [to Congress], and 'set' the fraud again - more than once. 

Lincoln then concluded his "case" to the audience with this wry adaptation of Mark Antony's speech in Shakespeare's play, Julius Caesar: 

"But meanwhile the three are agreed that each is 'a most honorable man'.'' 

Lincoln labeled the use of lies and false information as fraud and forgery, explaining how such tactics are used to mislead and manipulate people. However, it was his clever tale, laced with an obvious Shakespearean quote, that not only entertained the audience but also underscored the character of candidates who sacrifice the importance of truth and integrity in public discourse.

No wonder Douglas hated to hear Lincoln tell a story.

This was another tale from Abe Lincoln, storyteller.

Mac

Works Cited

[*] Just as a historical FYI: The "Anti-Nebraska" convention held in Springfield in 1854 was one of many locally organized "anti-Nebraska" meetings across the United States. Supporters included members from the many political factions at the time - Free Soil Party, Conscience Whigs, and anti-slavery-extension Democrats. These diverse political views converged on the single issue of opposing the Kansas-Nebraska Act. The Act - narrowly passed by Congress and signed into law by President Franklin Pierce - opened the Kansas and Nebraska Territories to slavery and future admission as slave states if the people living in those territories voted for slave clause to be added to their state constitution. By its enactment the new law nullified the prohibition of slavery in any territory north of  36° 30′ latitude, set by the Missouri Compromise of 1850.

It was from these conventions in 1854 that the Republican Party finally emerged.

[1] Basler, Roy P., et al. (1954) "Fifth Debate with Stephen A. Douglas, at Galesburg, Illinois - October 7, 1858". Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. v.3: p.229.

'clever but strange' - How Abe used his stories

Abraham Lincoln Statue by Rick Harney (2006)
Livingston County Courthouse, Pontiac, IL

A large part of Abraham Lincoln’s humor was based on his self-awareness. 

He was freakishly tall and skinny-looking for his times - 6'4"' (or more). He was also very homely - a big nose, large ears, all topped with a mop of coarse, unruly hair. But rather than let those facts be "limiters", he used them. By making himself the butt of many of his jokes and stories, other people relaxed around him - became less self-conscious - listened more closely.

However, Abe was no buffoon. And the stories he sometimes selected were used as funny explanations about who he was. That reminds me of a story he loved to tell about a friendly Kentuckian with whom he once rode in a carriage. 

It seems that during the ride, the man offered Lincoln a chew of tobacco. Then a cigar. And finally a sip of brandy. Each offer was politely declined. As they were parting, the Kentuckian said good-humoredly: 'See here, stranger, you’re a clever but strange companion. I may never see you again, and I don’t want to offend you, but I want to say this: my experience has taught me that a man who has no vices has damned few virtues. Good-day.'

With that anecdote, Lincoln's audience learned that he didn't drink, smoke, or "chew". He poked fun at people's suspicions of those who didn't. But he never said HE was virtuous

He DID brag, however, about being "clever".

Interesting.

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

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Gross, Anthony (1912). Lincoln's Own Stories. New York City, NY: Harper Brothers Publishers. p. 28.

'On the circuit' - 3 Abe Lincoln courtroom stories

One of the most important periods in the life of Abraham Lincoln was when he “rode the circuit” in central Illinois in the 1840’s and '50’s.

The Eighth Judicial Circuit is where Lincoln developed as a lawyer and evolved as a politician; here, too, he formed many of the personal relationships that became so important later in his life as president and commander-in-chief.

Many of the traditional Lincoln stories—tales exchanged with his friends and legal associates, anecdotes from the courtroom, and so forth - also date from this period.

Here are three of them from Anthony Gross's book, Lincoln's Own Stories.

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John H. Littlefied, a contemporary of Lincoln's, related this anecdote.

All clients knew that with Lincoln as their lawyer, they would win their case - if it was fair; if not, it was a waste of time to take it to him.

After listening for some time to a would-be-client's statement with his eyes on the ceiling, Lincoln swung around in his chair and exclaimed: 'Well, you have a pretty good case in technical law, but a pretty bad one when it comes to equity and justice. You'll have to get some other fellow to win this case for you. I couldn't do it. All the time while standing and talking to that jury I'd be thinking, "Lincoln, you're a liar," and I believe I might forget myself and say it out loud.'

_______________

In addition to being brilliant, Lincoln was also a person who believed in "getting even" with his friends for practical jokes. 

During jury selection for a trial, the opposing lawyer - and a friend of Lincoln's -  objected to seating a juror because the juror "knew Lincoln". Since the objection was "technically" a prejudicial statement, Judge David Davis, the presiding judge, overruled it.

Lincoln, knowing the judge's ways in a courtroom, decided to return the "insult" to the other lawyer. He then proceeded to ask several jurors if they knew his opponent - but unlike his opponent - Lincoln did not object to their selection.

Davis, by now irritated with this line of questioning but missing the point of it, interfered. "Now, Mr. Lincoln," he said sternly, "you are wasting time here. The mere fact that a juror knows opposing counsel does not disqualify him."

"No, your honor, it surely doesn't", agreed Lincoln with a grin, "but I'm afraid some of the gentlemen may NOT know him, which would place me at a disadvantage."

_______________

Abraham Lincoln’s gift for translating complicated law into simple stories was legendary on the Illinois circuit. Judge H.W. Beckwith recalled this moment from a case in Danville, where Lincoln defended a man charged with assaulting another man. [1] Opposing counsel opened his case, arguing that Lincoln’s client had struck without cause. When Lincoln rose to reply, he didn’t begin with statutes or citations. He told a story — one that made his self‑defense argument clearer than any legal brief could. His client, he said, was like a man walking along a country road with a pitchfork over his shoulder when a vicious dog rushes out from a farmer’s yard. In fending off the brute, the man’s pitchfork accidentally kills the dog. Then Lincoln added dialogue:

“What made you kill my dog?” the farmer demanded.

“What made him try to bite me?” the man replied.

“But why didn’t you go after him with the other end of the pitchfork?” the farmer asked.

“Why didn’t he come at me with his other end?” the man said.

At that moment Lincoln swung his arms as if holding a dog and thrust the imaginary tail toward the jury. The room broke into laughter — but the point was serious. By showing the dog’s tail, Lincoln made the farmer’s question physically absurd. For the man to defend himself with the blunt end of the pitchfork, the dog would have had to attack tail‑first. The aggressor chooses the terms of the fight, not the defender. Lincoln had just dramatized the old common‑law self-defense plea of son assault demesne — the idea that the other fellow brought on the fight, and the defendant used only the force necessary to protect himself. [Please see Sidebar below.]

Lincoln translated that antique legal term into a picture no juror would forget, and he won the case.

These courtroom stories are from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

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Sidebar: What “Son Assault Demesne” Means

Often mistaken for Latin, son assault demesne is actually Law French, a linguistic fossil from medieval English courts that carried into 18th- and 19th-century American legal pleadings and works like Blackstone’s Commentaries. The phrase literally translates to “his own original assault” (son meaning his, assault meaning assault, and demesne meaning own), and it serves as a specific self-defense plea in assault and battery cases. To successfully use this defense, a defendant must prove that the plaintiff attacked first and that the force used in response was strictly necessary; the defense fails if the reaction is disproportionate, a principle established in the 1705 case Cockcroft v. Smith, where biting off a finger was ruled an excessive response to being poked in the eye. (Source: Baker, J.H. (2019) An Introduction to English Legal History. 5th ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press.)

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📚 Works Cited

[1] Gross, Anthony (1912).Lincoln's Own Stories. New York City, NY: Harper Brothers Publishers. p. 26, pp. 35-36 and pp. 25-26.

The Hound and the Wolves - An Abe Lincoln Tale

Top is the myth. Bottom is the reality.
(An Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller visual by Gemini.)

During the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln quickly learned that many of his newly minted “generals” were prone to fantastic boasts of military genius—right up until they met the enemy.

The day after one of these braggarts suffered an embarrassing defeat at the hands of the Confederates, a group of visitors to the White House mentioned the general’s name. Lincoln listened, and a familiar glint came into his eye.

“He reminds me,” Lincoln said, “of a fellow who owned a dog.”

The Legend of the Wolf-Killer

According to the owner, this dog “hungered and thirsted” to hunt and kill wolves. In fact, the man declared, the dog just “hankered” to get at ’em so much, it was a struggle to keep the animal from devoting all twenty-four hours of the day to the destruction of the creatures.

One day, a group of friends—weary of the danger wolf packs posed to their community—decided to put these boasts to the test. They organized a hunting party and invited the owner and his “killer” hound to lead the way.

The owner suddenly found himself very “busy,” but as he was the most notorious loafer in town, his excuses were met with contempt. He was forced to go. The hound, unaware of the danger ahead, seemed excited for the lark.

The “Chase” Begins

Since wolves were plentiful, the party soon discovered a pack. The hound was released. But as soon as the dog saw the ferocious creatures, he lost heart, tucked his tail, and tried to slink away. After much coaxing, the dog was finally enticed into a thicket of underbrush where the pack had retreated.

Almost immediately, the woods erupted in a cacophony of snarling, growling, and yelps of terror. The battle was on!

Suddenly, the wolves and the dog burst from the brush and raced across a distant pasture. To the observers, it looked like the dog had the savage creatures on the run. The owner’s chest swelled with pride; his boasts were restored.

The Farmer’s Report

On horseback, the hunting party followed the din. They eventually came upon a distant farmhouse, where a farmer stood idly leaning on his gate.

“Have you seen anything of a hound and a pack of wolves around here?” they shouted.

“Yep,” the farmer replied.

“How were they going?”

“Purty fast.”

Exasperated by the man’s brevity, the dog’s owner finally asked, “What was going on when you saw them? Who was winning?”

The old man drawled, “Well, the dog was a leetle bit ahead.” [1]

Lincoln’s Conclusion

“Now, gentlemen,” concluded the President, “that’s the position in which you’ll find most of these bragging generals when they get into a fight with the enemy. That’s why I want ‘doers’ and not ‘boasters’.”

Another story from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

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📚 Works Cited

[1] McClure, Alexander K. (1901). "Abe" Lincoln's Yarns and Stories. Philadelphia, PA: International Publishing Company.

The Justice of the Peace - Another Abe Lincoln story

 

Abraham Lincoln was well-known for his effective use of amusing stories to make a point – especially in the courtroom.

During his circuit riding days, Lincoln and a rival attorney were arguing a case before a small town jury. His opponent tried to convince the jury that "precedent" is superior to law, and that "custom" makes things legal in ALL cases.

After he sat down, Lincoln stood and approached the jury. He told them that he would argue the case in the same manner as his opponent had. He then began a story.

“Old Squire Bagley, from Menard, came into my office one day and said: ‘Lincoln, I want your advice as a lawyer. Has a man that’s been elected justice of the peace have the right to issue a marriage license?’

“I told him no; whereupon the old squire threw himself back in his chair very indignantly and said:

‘Lincoln, I thought you was a lawyer. Now, Bob Thomas and me had a bet on this thing, and we agreed to let you decide; but if this is your opinion, I don’t want it, for I know a thunderin’ sight better! I’ve been a squire for eight years, and I’ve issued marriage licenses all the time.’

Just because something’s always been done before does not make it legal.

And saying it is, doesn't either.

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

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Gross, Anthony (1912). Lincoln’s Own Stories. New York City, NY: Harpers and Brothers.

What's in a name? A Lincoln circuit riding story

 

Lincoln the Lawyer by Lorado Taft. 

Abraham Lincoln maintained that the true "art" of storytelling was to fit the delivery to the audience. One part of that delivery - for which Lincoln was well known - was his ability to change the range, intonation, and pitch of his voice to fit the story.

While riding the Eighth Judicial Circuit, Lincoln often used that "art" to make complex points to a jury. Occasionally however, it came in handy for other reasons. A man named Stephenson, years later, remembered sitting in a courtroom in Bloomington, Illinois watching Lincoln on one of these 'occasions'. [1]

It seems Lincoln was defending a man who was accused of passing counterfeit money, and Lincoln's case was not going well.

Finally, the prosecutor called his chief witness to take the stand. When asked, the man stated his name - J. Parker Greene. When it was Lincoln's turn to cross-examine the witness, Lincoln ignored the entire testimony and immediately attacked the man's name.

Looking at the witness, Lincoln - according to Stephenson - drawled in a somewhat jesting - but suspicious way:

"Why J. Parker Greene? What does the J. stand for?"

"John," was the response.

Lincoln looked at the jury. 

Why didn't the witness call himself John P. Greene? That was his name, wasn't it? Well, what was the reason he didn't want to be known by his right name? Did J. Parker Greene have anything to conceal, and if not, why did J. Parker Greene part his name that way?

Stephenson recalled that although "the whole examination was farcical, there was something irresistibly funny in the varying tones and inflections of Lincoln's voice, as he questioned the changes in the man's name." 

But there was also something in Lincoln's way of intoning his questions that made the jury suspicious of the witness.

"To this day," Stephenson admitted, "I have never been able to rid my mind of the absurd impression that there was something not quite right about 'J. Parker Greene'."

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

Mac 

📚 Works Cited

[*] The statue shown at the beginning of this post is Lincoln the Lawyer by Lorado Taft. 

[1] Guelzo, Allen C. (1999). Abraham Lincoln: Redeemer President. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans.