🔖 A Lost Davy Crockett Tale in Abraham Lincoln’s Papers

A letter from actor James H. Hackett to President Lincoln,
dated August 2, 1864—containing a lost Davy Crockett tale.

“Izzard by G—d!”

Tucked deep within the Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress lies a curious letter, dated August 2, 1864. [1] It was written by James H. Hackett—a name largely forgotten today, but once celebrated on both sides of the Atlantic for his booming portrayal of Shakespeare’s Falstaff. 

Hackett wasn’t just an actor. He was also a correspondent of President Lincoln. The two men, drawn together by a shared love of Shakespeare, exchanged letters during the darkest years of the Civil War. [2] This final letter, however, contains something unexpected: an unpublished tall tale from the American frontier, passed from a congressman who had served alongside David “Davy” Crockett… to Hackett… and finally to the President of the United States.

Hackett, knowing Lincoln’s fondness for storytelling, couldn’t resist sharing it.

🎬 Story's Context

Before launching into the tale, Hackett offers Lincoln a bit of context [brackets are mine]:

“The late Davy Crockett contended with his fellow member of Congress, the late C. C. Cambreleng—in palliation [in defense or partial excuse] of a charge which he [Crockett] admitted he could not entirely deny: ‘want of edication’—that ‘some men were too high larnt.’ John Quincy Adams, he said, was one of them—his superfluous larning sometimes confused his head and his purpose.” Crockett (according to Mr. Cambreleng, who told me the anecdote—which I think I once repeated to you) proceeded very ingeniously and humorously to instance a case where ‘a man knew too much’—and suffered for it.” [1]

Then Hackett tells the story—as Cambreleng told it to him.

📜 The Tale, As Hackett Told It

“In Tennessee, one John Jones was objected to, as a political candidate for an office; ‘because, he was so illiterate he could'nt spell his given name — John,’ & a wager of $10. was offered & taken that ‘he could not be larnt to spell it within 24 hours.’ The taker of the bet did teach him, in less than one hour, to pronounce J — O — H — N —; & should have been satisfied, but must needs — as he thought — to win for sartin, & make use of all the time allowed, — larn him the whole alphabet — from A to Izzard. John, so crammed with unnecessary larnin', after having pronounced, before the appointed judges of his ability, the letters ‘J’ — ‘O’ — ‘H’ — fluently, was interrupted by him who had taken the wager, — ‘Well done, John! all right! now for the last letter!’ — meaning the — N —: but, poor John, thinking he meant of the alphabet, which he had worked so hard to get into his head, cried out: — ‘Izzard by G—d!’ and lost his friends' bet.”[1]

🔤 What “Izzard” Really Means

"Izzard” was a legitimate historical term for the letter Z, used in Britain and colonial America from the 17th through the 19th centuries Z. It wasn’t slang or a mistake—it was the accepted term, later replaced by the modern “zee.”

So when Crockett says “from A to Izzard,” he means the whole alphabet—from A to Z.

That’s what makes the John Jones story so funny. Under pressure to spell his name, Jones confidently rattles off J–O–H… and then, draws a blank and instead of the final “N,” reaches for the last letter he was taught and blurts out: “Izzard by G—d!”

The punchline lands perfectly: a man crammed with “too much larning” ends up missing the obvious.

🤠 Crockett’s Parable of “Too Much Larning”

The story works on several levels: it’s comic, exaggerated, and steeped in frontier irony. But beneath the humor lies Crockett’s own insecurity.

Famous for his folksy, self-deprecating style, Crockett often leaned into the image of being “unlarnt”—especially when set against polished statesmen like John Quincy Adams. In the preface Hackett shares, Crockett admits to lacking an "edication,” but he quickly flips the script. His lack of schooling, Crockett argues, was no handicap at all. Adams, he claimed, was “too high larnt”—so stuffed with superfluous knowledge that it clouded his judgment.

Enter the tale of John Jones: a man crammed with so much unnecessary learning that he misses the obvious. The parable becomes Crockett’s sly defense—turning ridicule of him into sage wisdom. It’s more than a joke; it’s a frontier rationale for why being “unlarnt” might actually be an advantage.

📄 A Story Without a Source—Except Lincoln

What makes this tale even more remarkable is its absence from the historical record. It doesn’t appear in Crockett’s published writings, nor in biographies, folklore collections, or congressional archives. That it survives only in Hackett’s letter makes it a rare artifact—a lost Crockett anecdote preserved in the papers of a president. 

Lincoln didn’t reply to Hackett’s letter—or if he did, the reply is lost. But the story survives. Preserved in ink, carried by laughter, and tucked inside the papers of a president who knew that sometimes, the best truths come wrapped in a tall tale.

💭 Closing Thoughts

This story—passed from Crockett to Cambreleng to Hackett to Lincoln—is more than a frontier joke. It’s a glimpse into how humor traveled in 19th-century America: orally, informally, and often undocumented. 

It also reveals something deeper about Lincoln. In the midst of war, he still welcomed stories. He still laughed. He still found meaning in the quirks of language and the wisdom of the “unlarnt.” Hackett knew this—and gave him a tale that was funny, ironic, and unmistakably American.

I wonder if Lincoln ever "retailed" it?

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

Mac

🎩 What do whiskers, a buffalo herd and dam destruction have to do with a murder mystery? That's what Abe wondered. Read his hilarious account of this murder investigation here: "Buffalo Herds, Whisker Hairs, and No Body: Abraham Lincoln’s Very Strange Murder Case".

📑Historical Footnotes

James H. Hackett (1800–1871) was a celebrated American actor, best known for his portrayal of Falstaff. He corresponded with Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War, sharing literary insights and theatrical anecdotes.

Churchill C. Cambreleng (1786–1862) served in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1821 to 1839, representing New York. A close ally of Andrew Jackson, he later served as U.S. Minister to Russia.

David "Davy" Crockett (1786–1836), was a frontiersman, folk hero, and served three non-consecutive terms a congressman from Tennessee (between 1827 and 1835). Known for his colorful storytelling and rugged persona, he died at the Alamo and became a symbol of American frontier spirit.

🕵️ David or Davy Crockett?

The nickname “Davy” was in circulation long before Walt Disney made it iconic in the 1950s—and Hackett’s use of it in 1864 proves it. The idea that Disney invented “Davy” is a myth. What Disney did was popularize and standardize the nickname for a new generation.

🧭 Timeline of the Name “Davy”

• During Crockett’s lifetime (1786–1836): He referred to himself as David Crockett in formal settings, including his autobiography, A Narrative of the Life of David Crockett (1834) and congressional records, and did not like to be called "Davy".

• Early 1800s–1850s: The nickname Davy, however, appears in folk tales, plays, and popular culture. The 1831 play The Lion of the West fictionalized Crockett as “Nimrod Wildfire,” helping spread the mythic image—and the nickname began surfacing in print and oral storytelling.

• Hackett’s 1864 letter: He calls him “the late Davy Crockett,” [see the entire letter below the Works Cited section] showing that the nickname was already familiar and informal enough to be used in correspondence with Lincoln.

• 1950s Disney boom: The TV series Davy Crockett starring Fess Parker, along with The Ballad of Davy Crockett (1955)—a No. 1 hit for weeks—ignited a national craze. Sales of “Davy Crockett” merchandise reportedly grossed over $100 million. Coonskin caps became a cultural phenomenon, worn not only by young boys but also by adults, including presidential candidate Estes Kefauver, who famously sported one at campaign events.

  Disney didn’t invent the nickname “Davy”—they simply branded it, popularizing and standardizing it for a new generation.

📚 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.

[2] "Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 6 [Dec. 13, 1862-Nov. 3, 1863]." In the digital collections, University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed November 13, 2025.

This is the complete Hackett letter about Davy Crockett's tall tale, transcribed and annotated by the Lincoln Studies Center, Knox College. Galesburg, Illinois:

From James H. Hackett to Abraham Lincoln, August 2, 1864

82 Nassau St New York

Aug. 2. 1864

My dear Mr. Lincoln!

As “Genl. Sanford” was lately on a mission to Secy. Stanton; and “Ex. Judge Cowles” — formerly a supporter of is — now a backslider to your administration, and, as “John K. Hackett” is my only son, (& aged 43,) — possibly the enclosed cut may afford information useful at some future time—1

[Hackett enclosed a clipping which contains brief sketches of Sanford, Cowles and John K. Hackett.]

The late Davy Crockett contended with his fellow member of Congress, the late C. C. Cambrelling, — in palliation of the charge which he admitted he could not entirely deny — “want of edication” — that — “some men were too high larnt — John Quincy Adams being one of such, — his superfluous larning sometimes confused his head & his purpose”— Crockett (according to Mr. Cambrelling, who told me the anecdote — which I think I once repeated to you) proceeded very ingeniously & humorously to instance a case, where “a man knew too much ” & suffered for it”—

[Crockett story as related by Churchill C. Cambreleng to Hackett]

“In Tennessee, one John Jones was objected to, as a political candidate for an office; ‘because, he was so illiterate he could'nt spell his given name — John,' & a wager of $10. was offered & taken that ‘he could not be larnt to spell it within 24 hours'— The taker of the bet did teach him, in less than one hour, to pronounce J — O — H — N —; & should have been satisfied, but must needs — as he thought — to win for sartin , & make use of all the time allowed, — larn him the whole alphabet — from A to Izzard— John, so crammed with unnecessary larnin', after having pronounced, before the appointed judges of his ability, the letters ‘J’ — ‘O’ — ‘H’ — fluently, was interrupted by him who had taken the wager, — “Well done, John! all right! now for the last letter!” — meaning the — N —: but, poor John, thinking he meant of the alphabet, which he had worked so hard to get into his head, cried out: — “Izzard by G—d!”

and lost his friends' bet.”

There is something said in Shakespeare about “a thrice told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.” I feel sure you never heard this from me but “onest” before; & contend that if you had, “twict,” you still have the advantage of any listener, who, if bored, cant throw his ears — as you can the enclosed — in the fire, unread— Yrs. always

Jas. H. Hackett [1]

Abraham Lincoln Freed Her Husband—Then Called Out Her Faith

President Abraham Lincoln (inset)
and his Bible

In December 1864, journalist Noah Brooks walked into the White House library and found Abraham Lincoln at work. The President was sitting back in his armchair, writing with a pencil on a stiff piece of common white box‑board laid across his knee — a favorite habit that let him compose and erase easily.

“Here is one speech of mine which has never been printed,” Lincoln said to Brooks, “and I think it worth printing. Just see what you think.”

He then read aloud what he had just written. Remarkably, Lincoln had drafted the entire encounter himself, describing his own actions in the third person:

“On Thursday of last week two ladies from Tennessee came before the President, asking the release of their husbands, held as prisoners of war at Johnson’s Island. They were put off until Friday, when they came again, and were again put off until Saturday. At each of the interviews one of the ladies urged that her husband was a religious man. On Saturday, when the President ordered the release of the prisoners, he said to this lady:

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

At Brooks’s request, Lincoln signed his name to the cardboard. Then, as a joke, he added a caption to his handiwork: “The President’s Last, Shortest, and Best Speech.” It was published exactly like that the next day in the Washington press. ^[2]

Lincoln may have laughed, but he meant every word. It is a masterful, three‑part maneuver of mercy, moral clarity, and gentle rebuke. He granted the release, but he refused to let a glaring double standard slide.

By targeting “the sweat of other men’s faces,” Lincoln was deliberately invoking the point of Genesis 3:19 — “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread.” The verse affirms the dignity of personal labor. But slavery inverted it: one person labored, while another ate the bread.

By using the woman’s own claim of piety, Lincoln exposed a brutal truth: the hypocrisy of any religion that sanctified owning human beings, justified rebellion as patriotism, and blessed exploitation in the name of divine authority.

It wasn’t an official address from a podium; it was a story written on a scrap of pasteboard in a quiet library. Yet it reveals the entire man — his empathy, his restraint, his conviction, and his refusal to let a double standard pass for moral reasoning.

Another glimpse into the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

— Mac

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

---

📚 Works Cited

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

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

President Lincoln's Exploding Dog Story

A Vivid Image of Defeat

President Abraham Lincoln
seated in his White House office
(now the Lincoln Bedroom)

In late 1864, Confederate General John Bell Hood led a disastrous campaign through Tennessee, culminating in brutal defeats at Franklin and Nashville. His decisions cost the Army of Tennessee nearly 23,500 men—a force shattered beyond repair. As Union General George “Pap” Thomas pursued Hood’s remnants into the Deep South, the once-formidable army ceased to function as a fighting force.

When President Lincoln was informed of the magnitude of Hood’s defeat, he didn’t reach for a map or a military dispatch. He reached for a story.

“I think Hood’s army is about in the fix of Bill Sykes’s dog, down in Sangamon County…”

What followed was a tale Lincoln had likely told before—a frontier yarn involving a mischievous yellow dog, a powder-filled coon bladder, and a biscuit booby trap. The dog swallows the explosive treat, and the resulting blast scatters its body.

The head of the dog lit on the porch, the fore-legs caught astraddle the fence, the hind-legs fell in the ditch, and the rest of the dog lay around loose. 

As the owner surveys the carnage, the neighbor remarks: "Bill I guess there ain’t much of that dog of your’n left.”

Says Bill: “Well, no. I see plenty of pieces, but I guess that dog, as a dog, ain’t of much more account.” [1]

Lincoln’s punchline? Hood’s army might still have pieces left—but as an army, it wasn’t of much more account either.

This was vintage Abe Lincoln. He didn’t need charts to explain—he had metaphors that exploded like the biscuit in that dog’s belly.

This is another story from Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Leidner, Gordon with an afterword by Michael Burlingame (2015), Lincoln’s Gift: How Humor Shaped Lincoln’s Life & Legacy. Naperville, IL: Cumberland House.

Skunks, Chickens and a Golden Calf

Abraham Lincoln's Lessons on Presidential Leadership in Two Stories

Portrait of Abraham Lincoln
1887 Painting by George Peter Alexander Healy
(hangs in the National Portrait Gallery, Washington, D.C.)

Great leaders see the world through a lens larger than themselves. Faced with a nation tearing itself apart and dissent within his own ranks, Abraham Lincoln never let ego cloud his focus on the bigger picture. His choices regarding his Cabinet and patronage jobs reflected a shrewd, calculated approach to leadership that prioritized the greater good over personal grievances.

Civil War historian Shelby Foote described Lincoln as "a very mysterious man," noting his ability to step outside himself and view situations with striking detachment. Almost everything Lincoln did, Foote observed, was "calculated for effect," a testament to his extraordinary intelligence and ability to craft decisions with precision and purpose. [1]

Lincoln’s sharp wit, pragmatism, and grounded perspective often shone through in the stories he told—tales that carried lessons in leadership. Two such stories, one about skunks and chickens and the other about a golden calf, reveal his remarkable patience and magnanimity in the face of political challenges.

Skunks and Statesmanship: Lincoln’s Patience in the Face of Political Pests

Leadership isn’t always glamorous—it often means dealing with life’s unavoidable annoyances, both figurative and literal. During the second year of the Civil War, Lincoln faced constant criticism and divisive dynamics within his Cabinet. Yet, instead of succumbing to pettiness or rash decisions, he chose patience and pragmatism.

This philosophy is perfectly illustrated in Lincoln’s humorous tale about Joe Wilson and his poultry shed. When urged to use the resignation of his Secretary of War as an opportunity to reorganize his Cabinet and remove dissenters, Lincoln responded with a story:

"Gentlemen, when I was a young man, I knew Joe Wilson, who built himself a log cabin not far from where I lived. Joe was very fond of eggs and chickens and took great pains to fit up a poultry-shed. Having gathered a choice lot of young fowls, he was soon annoyed by certain little black animals with white stripes [skunks]. One night, awakened by cackling and fluttering, Joe crept out to see what was going on. In the bright moonlight, he caught sight of half a dozen of the little pests, running in and out of the shadows of the shed."

The story, with its unspoken conclusion, reminded his audience of the cost of rash decisions. Sometimes, the best course of action is to endure the nuisances rather than risk greater harm.

The Golden Calf and the Third Auditor: A Tale of Lincoln’s Magnanimity

Few leaders can forgive their fiercest critics, let alone reward them. Yet Lincoln stood apart, embracing magnanimity as a cornerstone of his presidency. When faced with the controversial appointment of John Wilson [no relation to "Joe" in the previous story]—a former political opponent—to the position of Third Auditor of the Treasury, Lincoln’s response showcased his ability to prioritize competence over personal animosity.

Ferdinand Iglehart, author of The Speaking Oak (1902), recounted this story through Noah Brooks, a close friend of Lincoln. Brooks had protested Wilson’s appointment, citing his hostility toward the President. Lincoln, however, calmly asked: "Is not Mr. Wilson an honest man? Is he not competent? Would he make a good Third Auditor of the Treasury?" When Brooks reluctantly agreed, Lincoln concluded: "Then I think that settles it. I do not allow any personal ill-treatment to affect my official administration." [3]

Lincoln then likened the situation to the biblical story of Moses and Aaron: 

When Moses was on the Mount receiving the law of God, Aaron made a golden calf and caused a bolt in the camp. When Moses came down, he was very angry, but Aaron got his commission all the same. [3]

This decision, much like his biblical reference, underscores Lincoln’s extraordinary ability to rise above personal grievances and focus on the big picture—a leadership philosophy that stands in stark contrast to the pettiness often seen from today's leader. As iglehart concluded:

"How few in life will forget an injury, or fail to punish an enemy, if the opportunity shall offer." [3]

Lincoln’s decision to appoint John Wilson - much like his biblical reference to Moses and Aaron - showcases his extraordinary ability to look beyond personal history and focus on the bigger picture. It’s a leadership philosophy that stands in stark contrast to what we too often see today.

Conclusion

Abraham Lincoln’s presidency exemplifies what it means to lead with vision and magnanimity. From the Joe Wilson anecdote—where he humorously depicted the importance of restraint—to his decision to appoint John Wilson despite past opposition, Lincoln consistently prioritized the greater good over personal grievances. His ability to recognize talent and foster unity, even among critics and rivals, speaks to his extraordinary character. In a world too often dominated by pettiness today, Lincoln reminds us that true leadership rises above. His enduring example challenges us to see the bigger picture and seek grace in our own lives, even amid adversity.

These are more stories from the archives of Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Foote, Shelby (2005). The Civil War: A Narrative - 3 Volumes. New York City, NY: Random House Publishing.

[2] Goodwin, Doris Kearns (2006) Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln. New York City,NY: Simon & Schuster.

[3] Iglehart, Ferdinand C. (1902). The Speaking Oak and 300 Other Tales of Life, Love and Achievement. New York City, NY: The Christian Herald. p.240.

How Abraham Lincoln Explained Tariffs With a Grocery Store Joke

 

New York City docks (1860s)

Tariffs have always made even sharp minds scratch their heads. Abraham Lincoln knew this well. Instead of dry economics, he reached for a joke. In one of his trademark stories, he compared tariffs to a grocery store mix‑up involving crackers and cider. The punchline? “Somebody gets the money, but I don’t understand exactly how.”

More than 150 years later, Lincoln’s wit still captures the head-scratching confusion we feel about tariffs today.

🥖 Lincoln’s Grocery Store Joke

Lincoln was talking with his advisors about the cost of the war and the government's dwindling money supply. One of his advisors suggested increasing the tariffs.

Lincoln pondered the comment for a few minutes and then said, "There is something obscure about [tariffs]." Then he launched into a story:

It reminds me of the fellow that came into a grocery down in Menard County at [New] Salem where I once lived, and called for a picayune's [*] worth of crackers; so the clerk laid them on the counter. After sitting for awhile, he said to the clerk, "I don't want these crackers. Take them and give me a glass of cider." So the clerk put them back in the box and handed the fellow the cider. After drinking it, he headed for the door.

"Hey Bill," called the clerk, "pay me for your cider."

"Why?" said Bill, "I gave you crackers for it."

"Well then, pay me for the crackers."

"But I didn't have any," responded Bill.

"That's so," said the clerk. "Well, get out! It seems to me that I've lost money somehow, but I can't make out exactly how it happened."

Lincoln looked at his advisor. "So it is with the tariff," he said. "Somebody gets the money, but I don't understand exactly how." [1]

💰 What His Story Meant and Why It Matters

Tariffs are technical and rarely explained in everyday terms, yet they hit consumers directly. Shoppers don’t see a line item on their receipt saying “tariff surcharge.” Instead, like the clerk in Lincoln’s story who couldn’t figure out how he lost money on a simple trade, today’s families just know their grocery bills keep climbing.

Lincoln’s tale captures that sense of frustration perfectly: the loss is real, but the cause is confusing. His point still resonates — economic measures that look neat on paper often leave ordinary people paying the bill for reasons they don’t fully understand. And surveys today confirm it: Consumers report frustration with high prices that make their incomes buy less, saying they feel squeezed at the checkout line without knowing exactly why.

When leaders push tariffs or trade barriers without Congressional oversight or regard for the people they serve, the proof of their indifference is at the cash register, and families pay the price.

 😉 History With a Wink

Abraham Lincoln’s cracker‑and‑cider anecdote shows how humor can illuminate complex issues. It’s also a reminder that history isn’t just dusty speeches — it’s full of wit, wisdom, and lessons that still resonate.

By reflecting on his words in this instance, we can better appreciate the need for coordinated economic strategies that protect the daily lives of the American people and their families. History holds the answers to many of today’s struggles — if we’re willing to listen.

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

Mac

[*]👉 picayune was originally a small coin—specifically a Spanish coin of very little value, used in parts of the southern United States in the 19th century. So when Lincoln joked about a “picayune’s worth of crackers,” he meant a tiny, almost negligible amount — which made the story funnier, since the whole confusion was over something so small. Over time, the word has come to mean something trivial, petty, or insignificant.

📚 Works Cited

[1] McClure, A. K. (1901). Lincoln’s yarns and stories: A complete collection of the funny and witty anecdotes that made Lincoln famous as America’s greatest story teller. Chicago: Belford, Clarke & Co.

'Bass-Ackwards' - An Abe Lincoln spoonerism story

This is the original “spoonerism” story in Lincoln’s hand
(Seth Keller, Inc.)

Abraham Lincoln loved words and wordplay. 

Among his collected papers at the Lincoln Library is this odd text, written in his handwriting. It's a unique - and somewhat ribald - tale that strings together a series of “spoonerisms” - a type of wordplay in which the author transposes the first letter in two or more words for humorous effect. 

Lincoln titled it, "Bass-Ackwards". (Try to decipher it. The answer key is located below the Works Cited section

He said he was riding bass-ackwards on a jass-ack, through a patton-cotch, on a pair of baddle-sags, stuffed full of binger-gred, when the animal steered at a scump, and the lirrup-steather broke, and throwed him in the forner of the kence and broke his pishing-fole. He said he would not have minded it much, but fell right in a great tow-curd; in fact, he said it give him right smart sick of fitness—he had the molera-corbus pretty bad– He said, about bray dake he come to himself, ran home, seized up a stick of wood and split the axe to make a light, rushed into the house, and found the door sick abed, and his wife standing open–But thank goodness she is getting right hat and farty again– [1]

While the term 'spoonerisms' was coined in the late 1800s or early 1900s, this and other forms of wordplay were quite popular in the early 19th century. This fad was especially prevalent among medical students in London, who referred to it as 'Medical Greek' or 'Hospital Greek'. [2]

Since Lincoln loved telling stories - both g-rated and otherwise, it appears that he decided to see if he could write a short, humorous story using this mixed-up wordplay as part of the tale.

Jesse Weik, one of Lincoln’s early biographers, stated that Lincoln gave this particular tale to a Springfield (Illinois) court official at the conclusion of a trial. It was later donated to the State of Illinois for Lincoln's papers. [3]

Another small window into Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller — a man who could move a nation with a sentence, and still amuse himself by turning language completely bass‑ackwards.

Mac

🎩 Enjoy puzzles like this? Here's a real head-scratcher that unexpectedly landed in President Lincoln's lap. Read: President Abraham Lincoln’s Constitutional Puzzle: Can Secession From Secession Equal Admission?

Or if you enjoy brain challengers, here's a post that will challenge you to understand the mind of the guy with the goofy hat. Abe Lincoln the Dialectic: A Mind Forged in Contradiction

 📚 Works Cited

[1] Hertz. Emanuel (1940). The Hidden Lincoln (New York: Blue Ribbon Books, 1940), p. 400.

[2] McGregor, William B. (2015). Linguistics: An Introduction, 2nd ed. London: Bloomsbury. p. 428.

[3] Weik, Jesse (1891). Abraham Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life - 2 vols. New York, NY: D. Appleton Publisher.

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He said he was riding bass-ackwards [ass-backwards] on a jass-ack [jackass], through a patton-cotch [cotton-patch], on a pair of baddle-sags [saddle-bags], stuffed full of binger-gred [ginger-bread], when the animal steered at a scump [scared at a stump], and the lirrup-steather [stirrup-leather] broke, and throwed him in the forner of the kence [corner of the fence] and broke his pishing-fole [fishing-pole].

He said he would not have minded it much, but fell right in a great tow-curd [cow-turd]; in fact, he said it give him right smart sick of fitness [fit of sickness]—he had the molera-corbus [cholera-morbus] pretty bad–

He said, about bray dake [day break] he come to himself, ran home, seized up a stick of wood and split the axe [seized the axe and split a stick of wood] to make a light, rushed into the house, and found the door sick abed, and his wife standing open [wife sick abed/door standing open]– But thank goodness she is getting right hat and farty [fat and hearty] again–”

A horse, an apple and a steamboat - An Abe Lincoln Story

 

Raft of logs (foreground) and a river steamboat (distance) 

By July of 1864, the Union Army was winning the war on just about all fronts. 

While General Sherman was marching through Georgia and General Grant was dug in before Richmond, General Phil Sheridan made a strategic march through the Shenandoah Valley in Virigina - known as the "breadbasket of the South" - destroying Southern farmers' crops as he went.

One Southern farmer decided to take his complaint to Washington - directly to President Abraham Lincoln.

Lincoln granted the man an audience and listened to his complaint about Sheridan's men taking all of his hay and his only horse. The farmer wanted Lincoln to personally tell the officer to return his horse.

Lincoln sat back in his chair and said the farmer's complaint reminded him of a story about an old acquaintance of his, Jack Chase, a lumberman on the Illinois River.

Jack was a steady, sober man, and the best raftsman on the river. It was quite a trick to take a raft of logs over the rapids, but he was skillful and always kept it straight in the channel. Finally a steamboat was put on the river, and Jack was made captain of her. Jack would always take the wheel of the steamer going through the rapids.

One day when the boat was plunging and wallowing in the churning current, Jack's utmost vigilance was being challenged to keep the steamboat in the narrow channel.

Suddenly, a boy pulled on Jack's coat-tail and yelled: "Say, Mister Captain! I wish you would just stop your boat a minute - I've lost my apple overboard!" [1]

History doesn't say if the farmer got his horse back, but it did give us another anecdote from Abe Lincoln, storyteller!

Mac

Works Cited

[1] Leidner, Gordon (2015) Lincoln's Gift: How humor shaped Lincoln's Life and Legacy. Naperville, IL: Cumberland House. p. 201.

 

Squirrel or louse? An Abe Lincoln story

Abraham Lincoln ran for State Legislature, Congress & Senate. 

(Print from 1953 C & IM Railroad Calendar)

When Abraham Lincoln was a young state legislator, he was not yet the confident speaker he would one day become. In the Illinois General Assembly, surrounded by older and more seasoned lawmakers, he often felt the weight of inexperience. To steady himself, he turned to the one tool that never failed him: storytelling. Before long, both Whigs and Democrats learned that whenever Lincoln rose to speak, a story — and a chuckle — were sure to follow.

During his second term, Lincoln found himself in a heated debate over a bill on state bonds he had introduced. His opponent, Alfred Kitchell, a Democrat from Wabash County, rose to reply. Hoping to beat Lincoln at his own game, Kitchell opened with a story of his own.

Lincoln, he said, reminded him of a man who drank brandy until he fell into delirium tremens and was thought to be dying. A doctor was summoned, tried several remedies, and finally suggested giving the man more brandy. At the very mention of it, the patient revived and cried, “Brandy, yes, brandy — give me some brandy!”

“So it is with Mr. Lincoln,” Kitchell concluded. “The state has already been ruined by the bonds he advocates, and still he cries for more. As the drunkard cried for ‘more brandy,’ so Mr. Lincoln cries for ‘more bonds’.” [1]

The chamber laughed. Lincoln was expected to answer — and in kind.

Kitchell was known for two things: his large, shaggy eyebrows and his habit of making a great fuss over small matters. Lincoln rose slowly, letting the room settle.

“Mister Speaker,” he began, “the attack of the member from Wabash on the constitutionality of this measure reminds me of an ol’ friend o’ mine. A peculiar‑looking old fellow, with shaggy, overhanging eyebrows and a pair of spectacles under them.”

Lincoln then told the story of the old man who, one morning, thought he saw a lively squirrel on a tree outside his home. He fired once. Then again. Then again. Thirteen shots in all — and the squirrel never moved.

Frustrated, he told his son something must be wrong with the rifle.

“Rifle’s all right,” the boy replied. “But where’s your squirrel?”

“Don’t you see him, humped up ’bout halfway up the tree?” the old man insisted, peering over his spectacles.

“No, I don’t,” the boy said — then looked closely at his father’s face.

“I see your squirrel. You’ve been firin’ at a louse on your eyebrow!” [2]

The chamber erupted. Lincoln let the laughter crest before delivering his point:

Kitchell, he said, had been doing the same thing — firing away at something that wasn’t there.

The bill passed.

That day, Alfred Kitchell learned what many others would learn in the years to come: Lincoln’s stories were not just ornaments. They were instruments — sharp, precise, and devastating when he chose them to be. 

This is another anecdote from Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] This exchange on the floor of the Illinois General Assembly took place on February 26, 1841, and was reported in the Sangamo Journal on March 5, 1841. See “Debate in Illinois Legislature Concerning Sale of State Bonds” (February 15, 1841) and “Remarks in Illinois Legislature Concerning a Bill for Completion of the Illinois and Michigan Canal” (February 24, 1841), in Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 1:238, 243–44. Also see Burlingame, Abraham Lincoln: A Life, 1:164–65.

[2] Leidner, Gordon (2015) Lincoln's Gift: How humor shaped Lincoln's Life and Legacy. Naperville, IL: Cumberland House. pp. 32-33.  

    

'I saw the stars falling’

 An Abe Lincoln astronomy story

An artist's rendition of the
Leonid Meteor Storm in 1833 [**]

"When I was a young man in Illinois, I boarded for a time with a deacon of the Presbyterian Church."

With that opening, Abraham Lincoln began a story for a delegation of nervous bank presidents who had come to see the new president. Seven states had abandoned the Union, and more were to follow. The financiers wanted to know if all was lost or if Lincoln had confidence that the country could be saved.

Without saying yes or no, the President told them about the night in New Salem, Illinois when the stars fell out of heaven.

"One night I was roused from my sleep by a rap at the door, and I heard the deacon’s voice exclaiming, “Arise Abraham, the day of judgment has come.” I sprang from my bed and rushed to the window and saw the stars falling in great showers."

Many of the startled townsfolk assumed their village was on fire as thousands of meteors blazed through the dark sky and made flickering shadows in pre-dawn cabins. Churches quickly filled up, as many – like the Presbyterian deacon – thought Judgement Day had arrived. [*]

What Lincoln, his fellow New Salemites, and much of the rest of the young nation witnessed that early November morning was one of the most phenomenal astronomical events ever – the Leonid meteor storm of 1833 when thousands of meteors PER SECOND streaked through the Earth’s atmosphere. [2]

But even in his early years, Abraham Lincoln was not a man who rushed to conclusions. Despite the frightening display above, he sought evidence.

". . . but looking back of them [the falling meteors] in the heavens, I saw the grand old constellations with which I was so well acquainted, fixed and true in their places." [1]

“Gentlemen,” Lincoln said in conclusion, “the world did not come to an end then, nor will the Union now.”

Even in the heavens, Lincoln could find a story for a point he wanted to make. We’re blessed he was our president when the nation – like the sky that night – fell apart.

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

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[*] Some historians believe the 1833 Leonid Meteor Storm may have even played a factor in sparking many of the religious fundamentalist movements of the mid-1830s.

[**] The image that heads this post is the most famous depiction of the 1833 Leonids - an 1889 illustration by Adolf Vollmy for the Adventist book: Bible Readings for the Home Circle. Retrieved May 9, 2022.

[1] Talcott, Richard. “Lincoln and the Cosmos.” Astronomy – July 14, 2014. Retrieved May 7, 2022.

[2] Pijanowski, Gregory. “The Great Meteor Storm of 1833”. The Pigeon Roost – April 4, 2017. Retrieved May 9, 2022.

'the biggest liar in Washington' – an Abe Lincoln story

One day, an old friend of Abraham Lincoln’s stopped by the White House. As he was ushered to the President’s office, he passed an obnoxious politician who was just leaving.

When he asked Lincoln who the man was, Lincoln confided,

He’s the biggest liar in Washington. You can’t believe a word he says. He reminds me of an old fisherman I used to know who got such a reputation for stretching the truth that he bought a pair of scales and insisted on weighing every fish in the presence of witnesses. One day a baby was born next door, and the doctor borrowed the scales to weigh the newborn. It weighed forty-seven pounds. [1]

 A thoughtful anecdote from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🤠 Want to read a never-before-published Davy Crockett tale about a frontier spelling contest? A Shakespearean actor shared it a letter to President Abraham Lincoln. Humor, history, and a forgotten alphabet quirk collide in one of the strangest gems found tucked inside the Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress. 👉 Read the full tale here.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Leidner, Gordon (2015), Lincoln’s Gift: How Humor Shaped Lincoln’s Life & Legacy. Naperville, IL: Cumberland House. p.185.

Religion by dummies - An Abe Lincoln story

A Sermon or a Horse Ad?

Much has been written about Abraham Lincoln’s religious beliefs—at once earnest and elusive. During the Civil War, a visiting minister remarked, “I hope the Lord is on our side.” Lincoln famously replied:

“I am not at all concerned about that… But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that I and this nation should be on the Lord’s side.” [1]

Lincoln's moral compass pointed upward, but his sense of humor often aimed sideways. Though he quoted Scripture in letters and speeches, he had little patience for “hellfire and brimstone” preachers or self-important religious performers. When it came to hypocrisy in the pulpit, a thread of frontier sarcasm ran through him.

Historian Michael Burlingame unearthed a favorite Lincoln tale from his Springfield days—a revival meeting story full of righteous chaos and comedic timing.

As people were taking down their tents at the end of a camp meeting, a little wizened-face man ascended the log steps of the pulpit, and clasping his small hands, and rolling his weak eyes upward, squealed out, ‘Brethern and sisters!’” 

Because he presented such a striking contrast to the last speaker, the assembled people paused to look with wonder upon him.

Encouraged by their attention, he resumed: 

“I rise to orate [speak] to you on the subject of the baptismal – yes THE baptismal!” 

He cleared his throat and resumed, 

“There was Noah, he had three sons – namlie Shadadarack, Meshisck, and Bellteezer! They all went in to the Daniel’s den, and likewise with them was a lion!” 

Observing that his audience had resumed their work, the old fellow adopted a new tack: 

“Dear perishing friends, ef you will not hear me on this great subject, I will only say this, that Squire Nobbs has recently lost a little bay mare with a flaxy mane and tail – amen!” [1]

“Religion by Dummies” or a lost wanted ad?

Only God knows.

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

Mac

While Lincoln loved telling stories about preachers and religious folks, he was dead serious about religion. Here's a post about just how serious: Abraham Lincoln Freed Her Husband—Then Called Out Her Faith.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Carpenter, F.B. (1866). Six Months at the White House. p. 282. Retrieved 7-20-2025.

[2] Burlingame, Michael. (2008). Abraham Lincoln: A Life - Volume One. Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press. p. 41.

Abe Lincoln Once Used a Lightning Rod to Win an Election

“American Country Life, May Morning” (1855)
by artist F. Palmer [*]

Abraham Lincoln, during his campaign for a second term in the Illinois State Legislature in 1836, gave a speech in Springfield on a hot summer day in July – a few days before the election. But it was his impromptu speech afterwards that made all the difference.

The crowd was a large one. Many of Lincoln’s friends and admirers had come into town from New Salem and the surrounding countryside to hear him speak. Lincoln’s speech was a thorough one. He effectively argued the various issues by clearly presenting both the Whig Party’s and the Democratic Party’s stances on each one.

The speech — and the crowd’s reaction — was strong enough that when Lincoln finished, George Forquer, a well‑to‑do lawyer and prominent citizen, asked to address the audience.

William Herndon, Lincoln’s law partner and later biographer, preserved the story.

Forquer had long been a Whig — one of the party’s champions in Springfield — until he abruptly switched sides and joined the Democrats. Not long after, he received a federal appointment as Registrar of the Land Office from the Democratic administration in Washington.

Around the same time, Forquer completed a new frame house in Springfield — the finest in town. On its roof he installed the only lightning rod in the county. The display of refinement and status did not go unnoticed.

Lincoln had seen the lightning rod for the first time the day before the speech. Curious about its purpose, he bought a book to study it. The same instinct that drove him to understand the device drove him to understand men like Forquer.

When Forquer rose to speak, he began by saying that the young man — Lincoln — “had to be taken down,” and that he regretted the duty. He then delivered a condescending reply. As Herndon put it, “his whole manner claimed and asserted superiority.”

Lincoln stood with his arms folded, listening. When Forquer finished, Lincoln stepped forward.

Mr. Forquer commenced his speech by announcing that the young man would have to be taken down. It is for you, fellow citizens, not for me to say whether I am up or down. The gentleman has seen fit to allude to my being a young man, but he forgets that I am older in years than I am in the tricks and trades of politicians. I desire to live, and I desire place and distinction; but I would rather die now than, like the gentleman, live to see the day that I would change my politics for an office worth three thousand dollars a year, and then feel compelled to erect a lightning rod to protect a guilty conscience from an offended God.

Herndon wrote that Lincoln’s rejoinder “gave Forquer and his lightning rod a notoriety the extent of which no one envied him.”

A few days later, Lincoln and the Whigs swept the Sangamon County elections for the first time since the county was formed.

That lightning rod — in the hands of a political street‑fighter like Lincoln — certainly did draw the electricity away from the Democrats and their newest convert.

Another anecdote from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

[*] The lithograph that heads this post is entitled: “American Country Life, May Morning” (1855) by artist F. Palmer. This is a hand-colored stone lithograph. The lightning rod is noticeable on the center cupola.

📚 Works Cited

[1] Herndon, William H. and Weik, Jesse W. (1930) Herndon’s Life of Lincoln. Cleveland, Ohio: The World Publishing Company. pp.136-139.

'that is a pretty thick coating' - Abe Lincoln's Two Ministers Story

In 1860, during his campaign for the Republican presidential nomination, Abraham Lincoln - perhaps somewhat irreverently - used ministers to make a point that slavery, to the slaver, was about money - not morality. Here's how he did it.

The property influences his [the slaver's] mind. Like the dissenting minister, who argued some theological point with [a minister] of the established church, was always met by the reply, 'I can't see it so.' He opened the Bible, and pointed him to a passage, but the orthodox minister replied, 'I can't see it so.' Then he showed him a single word - 'Can you see that?' 'Yes, I see it,' was the reply. The dissenter laid a guinea [old British gold coin] over the word and asked, 'Do you see it now?' So here. Whether the owners [slavers] . . . really see it [slavery] as it is, it is not for me to say, but if they do, they see it as it is through 2,000,000,000 dollars, and that is a pretty thick coating. Certain it is, that they do not see it as we see it . . . this immense pecuniary [financial] interest, has its influence upon their minds.

Money or property - especially one's own - often alters a person's tolerance for right and wrong - sometimes, to the point of tolerating gross barbarity or injustice to others.

Unfortunately, we don't seem to have changed very much in the 160-years since Lincoln told that story.

Pity.

This was another tale from Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Lincoln, Abraham. "Speech at New Haven, Connecticut - March 6, 1860". Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. eds Roy Basler, et.al. (1953). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press.

Brown or not - that was the question: An Abe Lincoln Story

Abraham Lincoln like to tell the story about a well-to-do farmer who came by his Springfield law office one day, seeking a divorce from his wife.

When Lincoln asked the farmer the reasons for such a drastic action, the farmer complained that he and his wife had quarreled about the color to paint their new clapboard house. Explained the man, 

I wanted to paint it white like our neighbors' houses, but my wife preferred brown. Our disputes finally became quarrels. She has broken crockery, throwing it at my head, and poured scalding tea down my back and I want a divorce!

 Lincoln urged the couple to settle their differences for their children's sake. The farmer agreed to try.

One day, a few months later, Lincoln saw the farmer and asked how they were getting along. The farmer told Lincoln he and his wife had reached a compromise: 

We're going to paint the house brown. [1]

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

Mac

📚 Works Cited

[1] Leidner, Gordon. (2015) Lincoln's Gift: How Humor Shaped Lincoln's Life and Legacy. Naperville, IL: Cumberland House. pp. 230-231.

A Disabled Man Once Came to Abe Lincoln’s Defense

"Stump Speaking" [**]

In some respects, political speeches and debates these days certainly are vastly different from the ones held in the past. With television, prime time audiences, advertising dollars, and a host of other influences, speeches and debates are structured more as entertainment than they are as information sessions about political goals. During the course of a “debate”, one or both candidates often devolve into insults, interruptions, and in one case in the recent past, a personal attack on the other candidate’s family.

But even in the past, politics on any public stage was still a tough format for any speaker. And it often became embarrassingly personal. Here’s an Abraham Lincoln story about just such a moment. [*]

In 1858 – before Stephen Douglas agreed to the series of debates between them – Lincoln traveled across the state of Illinois giving solitary speeches. One of those speeches was in Cumberland County.

As Lincoln finished his speech that afternoon, Dr. Hamburgher – a local man (and a dedicated Democrat) – jumped on the stand and rudely said to Lincoln and the crowd that he would reply to Lincoln’s speech. Though it was not part of the day’s activities, Lincoln, without comment, took a seat on the outer edge of the platform to listen.

Hamburgher, however, soon went off-topic and began to insult Lincoln and the Republican Party. At that point, a diminutive and rather insignificant-looking disabled man awkwardly approached the side of the platform near Lincoln and quietly said: “Don’t mind him; I know him; I live here; I’ll take care of him – watch me.” Two or three times during Hamburgher’s continuing rant at Lincoln, the man leaned over to Lincoln and repeated his promise. 

Finally, when Hamburgher was done, he waited for Lincoln to rise and reply. Instead, the little disabled man stood and made good on his promise. He was only a few minutes into his rather scathing personal reply to Hamburgher, when the doctor interrupted with a shout: “That’s a lie!”

“Never mind,” retorted the disabled man smugly, “I’ll take that from you. In fact, I’ll take anything from you EXCEPT your pills!”

The doctor roared back: “You scoundrel! You know I’ve quit practicing medicine.”

The disabled man instantly dropped to his good knee, raised his hands in mock worship, and exclaimed: “Then thank God – the country is safe!”

Lincoln never responded to the doctor’s attack that day, but he always enjoyed telling the story about the “the lame man” who came to his defense.

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

Mac

[*] Please note: I took the liberty of updating the language to make it less colloquial for the 21st Century reader. For the original text, see the following source: Gross, Anthony (1912). Lincoln’s Own Stories. New York City, NY: Harper & Brothers. pp.57-58.

[**] The painting leading this post is "Stump Speaking" (1854) by George Caleb Bingham, an American artist who depicted and by doing so, documented American frontier life. Bingham's work remains a valuable visual representation of American history. His paintings are truly "American" art in both subject and form.

'we're in a hopeless minority' - An Abe Lincoln Story

 

After the Civil War exploded across the nation in April 1861, the new President Abraham Lincoln was beset with one crisis or catastrophe after another that first year as he tried to get a handle on being "The President".

But Lincoln was brilliant, goal driven, adaptable, and most importantly, decisive. He displayed all of those traits during an international crisis in November 1861 that threatened to overwhelm the Union cause. The Trent Affair was precipitated by an overzealous, impulsive U.S. Navy captain seeking fame and recognition. [1]

As it happened, two Confederate diplomats, James M. Mason and John Slidell were on their way to London (Mason) and Paris (Slidell) aboard a British mail packet the R.M.S. Trent to seek the diplomatic recognition of the Confederacy as a legitimate nation by those governments and to arrange military and financial aid for the war effort.

On November 8th, the U.S. Navy warship captained by Wilkes - the U.S.S. San Jacinto - stopped the Trent in the open Atlantic Ocean, forcibly removed the two Confederate emissaries and their secretaries James E. McFarland and George Eustis, and released the Trent to continue its voyage. Wilkes then sailed for Hampton Roads, Virginia where he wired Washington the news of his arrest of the two diplomats and their entourage. [1]

The Northern newspapers, members of Congress, and several members of the President's new cabinet hailed Captain Wilkes as a hero and praised him for his 'derring-do'.  Even Lincoln initially approved.

The British government, however, was not impressed. They protested Wilke's seizure of the diplomats as a breach of international law and a violation of Britain's neutrality. They also mobilized troops and threatened to send them to Canada for an possible invasion of the North if the diplomats from the Confederacy were not allowed to continue their mission. France supported Britain's demands. [1]

Lincoln then realized that this incident could lead to diplomatic recognition by England and France, as well as open a second front in a war with England at the Canadian border. He called a cabinet meeting. 

He laid out the diplomatic possibilities they were facing, and his reluctance to go to war with England over the affair. Despite the gravity of the situation, only one cabinet member agreed with him; the rest felt it was a point of honor.

Lincoln said the lopsided support against him reminded him of a story back home in Illinois.

 A drunk strayed into a church while a revival meeting was in progress. He walked up the aisle to the very front pew, joined audibly in the singing, and said a loud "Amen" at the close of the prayers. After a while, the drunk became drowsy and fell asleep. Before the meeting closed, the pastor asked the usual question, 'Who are on the Lord's side?' and the congregation arose en masse. When he asked 'Who are on the side of the Devil?' the congregation sat down. About that time, the sleeper wok up, and, seeing the minister on his feet, arose. Looking around the drunken man said, 'I don't exactly understand the question, but I'll stand by you, parson, to the last. But seems to me, we're in a hopeless minority.' [2]

At that point, in spite of being in the minority, Lincoln said to his cabinet - decisively - 'one war at a time', and ordered the Confederate emissaries released. Great Britain then backed down from its threat to send troops, and the crisis subsided. However, neither France nor Britain ever diplomatically recognized the legitimacy of the Confederacy.

After the diplomatic crisis passed, Lincoln said the peaceful resolution reminded him of an incident that occurred in his youth.

There were two fields behind our house separated by a fence. In each field was a big bulldog, and those dogs spent the whole day racing up and down, snarling at each other through the fence. One day they both came at the same moment to a hole in the fence big enough for either of 'em to get through. What do you think they did? They just turned tail and scampered away as fast as they could in opposite directions.

"England and America are like those bulldogs," he  concluded. [2]

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

Mac

Works Cited

[1] Mahin, Dean B. (1999) One War at A Time: The International Dimensions of the Civil War. Lincoln, Nebraska: Potomac Books, Inc. pp. 59, 61, 69.

[2] Leidner, Gordon. (2015) Lincoln's Gift: How Humor Shaped Lincoln's Life and Legacy. Naperville, Illinois: Cumberland House. pp. 131-132.