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

James H. Hackett

Part 1 of the Lincoln & the Actor Series

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

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

Hackett as Falstaff

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

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

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

Wait—Lincoln preferred Claudius’s soliloquy?

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

“My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent.”

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

💡 Why Lincoln Might Have Preferred It

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

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

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

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

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

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

📚 Works Cited

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