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. In its first section, he 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:
Enunciation – State the proposition.
Exposition – Clarify the terms.
Specification – Identify what’s being examined.
Construction – Lay out the framework.
Proof – Demonstrate the truth.
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.
📚 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.
Yep, you read that right. Abraham Lincoln—the 16th President of the United States, the Savior of our 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 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 wasn’t confined to 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 just idle pastimes; Lincoln saw them as essential for both physical and mental exercise. [2]
Lincoln was just as much in earnest in playing these games as he was when on the stump, making a speech before a jury, in the argument of a cause, or when unraveling knotty law points before the court.
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. Played by two teams of two, “fives” was a fast-paced game where players tried to hit a ball out of their opponents’ reach. A contemporary of Lincoln’s, Dr. Preston H. Bailhache, described it:
“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]
Their court of choice? A vacant lot in Springfield, Illinois, where the brick walls of the Illinois State Journal newspaper building and the John Carmody store formed the front and back boundaries. 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:
“In 1859, Zimri A. Enos, Esq., Hon. Chas. A. Keyes, E. L. Baker, Esq., then editor of the Journal, William A. Turney, Esq., Clerk of the Supreme Court, and a number of others... could be found [with] Mr. Lincoln 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]
Kidd also recounted one particularly intense match where both teams were tied when Lincoln and his teammate, 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 Return
Many Lincoln historians agree that even during the three-day Republican National Convention in Chicago (May 16–18, 1860), Lincoln played handball daily in the vacant lot beside the Illinois State Journal office—relieving the stress of waiting for news of his nomination to arrive by telegraph. They also confirm that Abraham Lincoln never played handball again after that day.
So, it turns out, Lincoln didn’t just charge juries or run wars—he also knew how to serve up a mean handball.
This was another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
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.
Concept inspired by Abraham Lincoln’s June 1836 letter to Colonel Robert Allen. (Image generated by Microsoft Copilot)
In June 1836, fresh off his first election to the Illinois General Assembly, 27-year-old Abraham Lincoln heard around town that Colonel Robert Allen claimed to possess damaging information about Lincoln and fellow candidate N.W. Edwards—but promised not to reveal it out of personal regard.
Lincoln immediately sat down and wrote a letter to Allen regarding this so-called "protection". Lincoln's reply is a stunning document. Not of political maneuvering, but of moral courage.
“...favour to me would be injustice to the public, and therefore I must beg your pardon for declining it.”
Lincoln doesn't flinch. He doesn't negotiate. He invites the truth, even if it sinks him.
Principle Over Protection
Lincoln writes:
“if I have since done any thing, either by design or misadventure, which if known, would subject me to a forfeiture of that confidence, he that knows of that thing, and conceals it, is a traitor to his country's interest.”
What modern politician says that? He’s declaring that concealing facts - even for friendship - is a betrayal of the people he represents. That public trust outranks personal gain. And then, with the same clarity he’d later wield in presidential addresses, he adds:
“I do hope that, on more mature reflection, you will view the public interest as a paramount consideration, and, therefore, determine to let the worst come.”
Integrity here isn’t just a trait—it’s a choice, actively made in real time.
Why It Still Matters
In an era of spin, silence, and selective outrage, Lincoln’s response remains radical. He doesn’t beg for damaging information to stay hidden—he begs for honesty to take precedence.
Even at 27, Lincoln spoke with the same candor, honor, and principled resolve that would define him as one of America’s most enduring leaders. The echoes began early—and they never faded.
This was another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
Mac
📚 Works Cited
[1]Lincoln, Abraham. "Letter to Robert Allen, June 21, 1836".Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Edited by Roy P. Basler et al., vol. 1, University of Michigan Digital Library, https://quod.lib.umich.edu/l/lincoln/lincoln3.. Accessed 19 July 2025.
Here's Lincoln's letter to Allen in its entirety:
To Robert Allen
Dear Col. New Salem, June 21. 1836
I am told that during my absence last week, you passed through this place, and stated publicly, that you were in possession of a fact or facts, which, if known to the public, would entirely destroy the prospects of N. W. Edwards to section and myself at the ensuing election; but that, through favour to us, you should forbear to divulge them.
No one has needed favours more than I, and generally, few have been less unwilling to accept them; but in this case, favour to me, would be injustice to the public, and therefore I must beg your pardon for declining it. That I once had the confidence of the people of Sangamon, is sufficiently evident, and if I have since done any thing, either by design or misadventure, which if known, would subject me to a forfeiture of that confidence, he that knows of that thing, and conceals it, is a traitor to his country's interest.
I find myself wholly unable to form any conjecture of what fact or facts, real or supposed, you spoke; but my opinion of your veracity, will not permit me, for a moment, to doubt, that you at least believed what you said.
I am flattered with the personal regard you manifested for me, but I do hope that, on more mature reflection, you will view the public interest as a paramount consideration, and, therefore, determine to let the worst come.
I here assure you, that the candid statement of facts, on your part, however low it may sink me, shall never break the tie of personal friendship between us.
I wish an answer to this, and you are at liberty to publish both if you choose.
Very Respectfully, A. LINCOLN.
[Despite Lincoln's encouragement, there is no record of any reply.]
When it comes to presidential health quirks, George Washington’s nightmare of wooden dentures is the stuff of legend. But what about Abraham Lincoln? Did the Great Emancipator have a mouth full of perfectly preserved teeth, or did he endure his own dental disasters?
Turns out, Lincoln’s teeth have their own strange history, and two studies—one by an American dental historian and another by a French medical researcher—attempt to unravel the mystery. Did fluoride-rich water bless Abe with naturally strong enamel, or was he just really good at avoiding dentists? Let’s sink our teeth into this peculiar presidential puzzle.
Dr. Maynard K. Hine, a dental historian and former president of the American Dental Association, published an article in the Bulletin of the History of Dentistry in 1975. In it, he suggested that Lincoln’s dental health was remarkably strong—possibly due to the natural fluoride present in the wells and springs of Kentucky and Indiana. [1]
But can we really credit fluoride for Lincoln’s luck? A French dentist and medical historian, Dr. Xavier Riaud wrote a more detailed look at Lincoln’s actual dental history in his 2018 article in the Journal of Dental Health, Oral Disorders & Therapy. Dr. Riaud suggests a different story—one involving painful extractions, self-administered anesthesia, and a possible phobia of dentists.
Lincoln’s Known Dental History
Lincoln wasn’t entirely free from dental problems. His own words, written to Mary Speed in 1841, describe a particularly gruesome experience:
"Do you remember when I went to this city to get a tooth extracted and it totally failed? This tooth made me suffer once again so badly that a week ago, I had to have it removed, which cost me a piece of the maxilla which came out with it. My mouth is so sore that I can neither talk, nor eat. I only survive with the memory of flavors which is inadequate in terms of nutritious diet." [2]
This account is painful just to read—a reminder of how primitive dental procedures were in the 19th century.
Lincoln endured at least three additional dentist visits:
In 1856, he had a tooth extracted using an ivory-handled turnkey - a harsh tool used before modern forceps.
In 1862, while serving as president, he visited Dr. G.S. Wolf in Washington—but rather than accept the dentist’s anesthesia, Lincoln produced his own vial of chloroform, inhaled it, and then allowed the extraction (of course, Lincoln was resourceful enough to handle his own pain relief).
He purchased at least two toothbrushes, suggesting he had some understanding of oral hygiene. [2]
In addition, his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, endorsed a tooth powder in an ad published by the New York Times, suggesting that dental care was valued in their household. [2]
Fact vs. Speculation
While Dr. Hine’s fluoride theory is amusing, Lincoln’s real dental history suggests a different story—one of occasional pain, infrequent visits to the dentist, and a possible phobia of extractions.
The French researcher further noted that Lincoln never smiled in photographs, leading some historians to wonder: Was he self-conscious about his teeth? The article suggests that his solemn expressions had more to do with the long exposure times required for photography, rather than any concern about his dental health.
Lincoln’s diet may have also played a role—he rarely ate sugar, avoided desserts, and never smoked or drank, meaning his teeth may have been naturally preserved without much effort.
So, was Lincoln truly blessed with strong teeth, or did he simply avoid dentists unless absolutely necessary? One thing is clear—when he did have dental problems, he handled them in the most Lincoln-esque way possible: with minimal fuss, maximum self-sufficiency, and just a touch of brutal efficiency.
What do you think? Was Lincoln lucky, cautious, or just very, very tough
This is another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
Mac
Works Cited
[1] McDaniel, C.G. "Historian says...Abe had few dental problems". Alton [IL] Telegraph Newspaper - Wednesday, February 12, 1975. p. A-11.
[2] Riaud X. "Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) and his teeth". Journal of Dental Health Oral Disorders Therapy - 2018;9(1): pp. 30-31.
Shortly after Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration in 1861, amidst the mounting tensions of the secession crisis, a curious letter landed on his desk at the Executive Mansion. It wasn’t from a politician or dignitary, but from a schoolteacher in Springfield, Illinois, seeking to settle a classroom dispute.
The teacher’s student, young George Evans Patten, had claimed he’d met Lincoln the previous year in Springfield and even shaken his hand. His classmates, unconvinced, teased him relentlessly. Determined to resolve the matter, the teacher wrote to the President, asking for confirmation.
Despite the weighty decisions Lincoln faced—such as reinforcing Fort Sumter and addressing the shortage of Union troops—he took the time to respond. In a brief note dated March 19, 1861, Lincoln wrote:
To Whom it May Concern: I did see and talk with Master George Evans Patten, last May, at Springfield, Illinois. Respectfully, A. Lincoln.
Rather than sending the reply to the teacher, Lincoln addressed it directly to young Patten, ensuring the boy had the proof he needed to silence his doubters. The letter later became a cherished artifact, passing through the hands of collectors and earning recognition for its charm and historical significance.
This anecdote offers a glimpse into Lincoln’s character—his ability to balance the gravitas of leadership with moments of humanity and kindness, even in the midst of national turmoil.
This is another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
Mac
Works Cited
[1] "Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 4 [Mar. 5, 1860-Oct. 24, 1861]." In the digital collection Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. p. 294. Retrieved February 5, 2025.
[2] Ayres, Chris. "How Lincoln put the school bullies in their place". The Times (London) - November 19, 2009.
Abe Lincoln in his White House office (1863). Today, it's called the Lincoln Bedroom.
Abraham Lincoln loved words and wordplay.
Among his collected papers at the Lincoln Library is this odd text, written in his handwriting.
Lincoln titled it, "Bass-Ackwards".
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]
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.
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]
This is another story from Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
Mac
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.
An excellent example of President Abraham Lincoln's tenderness occurred near the end of the Civil War.
Lincoln and his family had been invited to visit General Ulysses S. Grant's headquarters at City Point, Virginia. The trip took place in late March of 1865 about three weeks before he was assassinated. [1]
One morning during his visit, Lincoln wandered into the telegraph tent where several of of General Grant's officers were sitting. He spotted three tiny kittens crawling about the tent at the time.
General Horace Porter described the scene:
The mother had died, and the little wanderers were expressing their grief by mewing piteously. Mr. Lincoln picked them up, took them on his lap, stroked their soft fur, and murmured: “Poor little creatures, don't cry; you'll be taken good care of,” and turning to Colonel Bowers, an officer on Grant's staff, Lincoln said: “Colonel, I hope you will see that these poor little motherless waifs are given plenty of milk and treated kindly.”
Bowers replied: “I will see, Mr. President, that they are taken in charge by the cook of our mess, and are well cared for."[2]
Several times over the next few days of his stay, Mr. Lincoln was found playing with these kittens. He would wipe their eyes tenderly with his handkerchief, stroke their smooth coats, and listen to them purring their gratitude to him.
Porter was amazed - and touched.
"It was a curious sight at an army headquarters, upon the eve of a great military crisis in the nation's history, to see the hand which had affixed the signature to the Emancipation Proclamation, and had signed the commissions of all the heroic men who served the cause of the Union, from the general-in-chief to the lowest lieutenant, tenderly caressing three stray kittens."[2]
Untouched by the callousness of life and war - or perhaps because of it, "Lincoln," Porter marveled,
well illustrated the kindness of the his disposition, and showed the childlike simplicity which was mingled with the grandeur of his nature. [2]
This is another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.
Mac
Works Cited
[1] Sandburg, Carl (1939) Abraham Lincoln: The War Years, Volume IV. New York, NY: Harcourt Brace. p.146.
[2] Porter, Horace (1697) Campaigning with Grant. New York, NY: Harcourt, Brace. p.410.
“If you want to exalt a subject, you shoot up at him,” Norman Rockwell once remarked. Shown here with his 1964 painting “Young Woodcutter.”
Norman Rockwell was one of the Twentieth Century’s most popular illustrators of American culture and history.
Many of us remember his illustrations because we grew up during his heyday. Our grandparents and parents used to laugh at some of them and sometimes share a story from their past that a Rockwell illustration brought to mind. Even as young people, we, too, enjoyed some of his illustrations because they recalled for us a key moment or just an everyday moment in our lives.
And now, all these years later, even our children and grandchildren enjoy or identify with different Rockwell illustrations. They don’t know the man, but they enjoy his art.
He tapped something in all of us…and he still does.
Norman Rockwell-Storyteller
Rockwell (1894-1978) produced more than 4,000 original works in his career. Memorable illustrations like “The Problem We All Live With” (1964) that President Barak Obama hung in the White House, and the popular Thanksgiving Picture – “Freedom from Want” (1943) - are just some of his many works.
But he is most remembered for his 400 magazine cover illustrations for the Saturday Evening Post, Look, and Boys’ Life magazines – spanning over fifty years.
Hired to produce paintings for magazine covers that attracted subscribers, Rockwell’s illustrations captured the attention of millions of people. And they still do. At Rockwell’s Medal of Freedom award ceremony in 1977, President Gerald Ford offered a reason for that popularity. They were, he said, “vivid and affectionate portraits of America.” [1]
But these ‘portraits’ are actually visual stories – complete stories - and often with a point.
Uniquely, Rockwell starts his stories with the climax. At first glance, the viewer knows the topic and the highpoint of the situation portrayed. However, through the details of the illustration, (the setting, clothes, colors, facial expressions, background, signs, etc.), the rest of his story emerges – tailored by each viewer’s own perceptions.
Oddly, ‘perception‘ is the main reason Rockwell’s stories endure. We all perceive his illustrations in different times and with different life experiences; therefore, the story in each picture continuously adapts itself with every new generation.
In addition to his renderings of American life and times, he also did many illustrations of famous people – especially American presidents and political statesmen.
And, of course, Abraham Lincoln was among them.
Abraham Lincoln – Subject
One of Rockwell’s favorite political subjects over the years was Abraham Lincoln, whom he considered a great man and America’s greatest president. Rockwell’s museum site notes that “no other statesman appears more in Norman Rockwell’s work than Abraham Lincoln, who is included in eight of the artist’s paintings between 1927 and 1975.” [1]
Rockwell used his simple, visual stories to clearly highlight the important moments in Lincoln’s life and words that Rockwell felt influenced the Story of America.
Though they weren’t painted in the chronological order of Lincoln’s life, six of Rockwell’s collective Lincoln paintings can be arranged in a chronological fashion that highlights the President’s life (and beyond).
Since our perceptions are the key to every story in Rockwell’s paintings, so it is with this illustrated story about Abraham Lincoln. I offer the following storyline based on my perceptions of these paintings from years of Lincoln studies. I hope you’ll add your own. Rockwell would enjoy that.
I give you:
Lincoln by Rockwell
CHAPTER ONE
Young Woodcutter (1964)
“Lincoln the Railsplitter” (1964)
(“Young Woodcutter” was the original title)
Rockwell’s Lincoln begins with his 1964 painting, Lincoln the Railsplitter (Young Woodcutter was its original title). Commissioned by the CEO of a Spokane Bank, Rockwell earned $4,000 for it. [2]
The story opens with the canvas itself. Rockwell seems to use sculptor Daniel Chester French’s idea (Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C.) of outsizing Lincoln to emphasis his greatness. Lincoln is painted on a seven feet tall but narrow canvas, to convey the sense of both his tall, lanky frame and his outsized stature. Rockwell further enhances this feeling of character and dignity by placing the viewer's perspective at the same level that French did with his memorial sculpture – at Lincoln’s feet.
But in the details of the painting are the rest of Lincoln’s story. The log cabin and split rail fence behind him and distant, indicate his origins. His sloppy manner of dressing portrays Lincoln as a common man of the times. His ax, red bandana, and plum-bob (hanging from his suspenders), portray the type of work that he did, and the attention to detail he gave it.
The two tree stumps in the foreground serve as a gate or portal through which the strong, young Lincoln is passing from his past into a different future. The coat is over his arm and his concentration on a book are the harbingers of where he’s going and that learning is leading the way.
CHAPTER TWO
Lincoln for the Defense (1961)
“Lincoln for the Defense” (1961)
Rockwell’s 1961 painting, Lincoln for the Defense, was created for a Saturday Evening Poststory of almost the same title by Elisa Bialk. [3] It depicts the next phase of Lincoln’s life, as a country lawyer, and his most famous case.
The scene is Lincoln’s creative defense of Duff Armstrong in the 1858 "Almanac" murder trial. Also tall and narrow, the painting again puts the observer in the “Lincoln Memorial” viewpoint – at his feet looking up – again, to convey the continuing sense of Lincoln’s greatness.
Contradicting that assessment however is his appearance. Lincoln still appears haphazardly dressed. His shirt-sleeves – one rolled and one unrolled – and his loose suspenders again convey that his focus is on his work not on his fashion. His ruffled shirt shows his progress financially from the last chapter, and the spectacles indicate his aging or his poor eyesight perhaps from his extensive reading.
Lincoln’s fist on the law-book portrays his belief in the strict letter of the law. The open almanac in his other hand identifies the trial, and it speaks to Lincoln’s brilliance and legal creativity.
Lincoln’s client for that trial was Duff Armstrong, the son of Lincoln’s old friend Jack. Oddly, Armstrong is shown only as a shadowed outline and his shackled hands are held up to Lincoln, clasped in a pleading way. Though partly unshaded, the skin tone of his hands is still darker than Lincoln’s. These details form a reference to Lincoln’s anti-slavery views, and perhaps foreshadow Lincoln’s defense of his views in his famous 1858 debates with Stephen Douglas – three months after this trial.
The upward, distant gaze, his position in front of the table, and the duality of the shadowed client, all hint that Lincoln has a higher calling, and his life’s purpose is not yet done.
CHAPTER THREE
Mathew Brady Photographing Lincoln (1975)
“Abraham Lincoln and Mathew Brady” (1975).
Rockwell did this painting for the cover of the Chicago Sunday Magazinein 1975 – at the start of our Bi-Centennial Anniversary. It depicts President-elect Abraham Lincoln sitting for his first photograph in Washington, D.C. (February, 1861) with Mathew Brady, the famous Civil War photographer. [4]
This painting is different in so many ways.
For once, Lincoln is shown neatly dressed, with shoes shined, his new beard, and his trademark hat nearby (seen for the first and only time in a Rockwell painting). Even the visual perspective is different. The earlier paintings placed the viewer at Lincoln’s feet. This painting places the viewer on the same level. Here’s why.
“It is typical, however, in that Rockwell takes us behind the scenes, capturing less a President beset by affairs of state than just another American at the mercy of early photography. With this humanizing impulse—vintage Rockwell—we can easily identify.” [4]
Besides adding that ‘humanizing‘ touch to his Lincoln story, Rockwell also commemorated a historic moment between two historic Civil War personages, and he celebrated an important advance in technical history – the camera. Rockwell used the device as an important, central detail for this excellent “visual snapshot” of that early photographic process, a new president-to-be, and a very subtle comment about the importance of Lincoln’s up-coming task as president.
As to the photographic process, Brady is timing the exposure while holding the lens cap he will place over the camera lens when the exposure time is up (which took awhile in those days). Lincoln is stiffly held in place by a neck-rest known as a “Brady-stand.” (The photographers painted those out of the finished photos.) The room also contains many of the props used in the photos of that period. The table, chairs, inkstand with quill, and the drapes behind Lincoln were all standard for many of those early photos.
Historically, this photo session with Brady [see Postscriptbelow] took place a month before Lincoln’s inauguration and two months before the Civil War began. Knowing that fact, Rockwell made a very subtle reference to Lincoln’s upcoming task – a prop not shown in the actual photo. Note the Greco-Roman bust on the extreme right side of the painting – the direction in which Lincoln is facing. This bust is the subtle symbol of our democratic system of government that President Lincoln will shortly be tasked with saving.
A bright and cheerful illustration of a “humanizing” moment in Lincoln’s life before the dark and dreary war begins.
CHAPTER FOUR
Abraham Delivers the Gettysburg Address (1942)
“Abraham Delivering The Gettysburg Address” (1942) Please note: Rockwell did NOT use Lincoln’s last name in title of this painting.
This painting is unique for its title.
Rockwell didn’t use Lincoln’s last name in the title – just Abraham. This is a possible Biblical tie-in with the man who led his people from bondage, just as Lincoln arguably but legally did by signing the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863 – eleven months before delivering this address at that cemetery in Pennsylvania.
The chapter opens with the viewer again at Lincoln’s feet as he stands on the stage delivering his famous address. Lincoln appears shabbily dressed in a seemingly dusty or faded coat. He stands with a hand hanging on his lapel and wearing his spectacles as he reads his scraps of paper. These details show Lincoln’s character remains unaffected by the trappings of his office, but the responsibilities it entails have left him a trifle worn.
The man seated to the far left in the painting is the great orator Edward Everett – well dressed, coat buttoned, and holding a roll of paper that was his speech. Everett was the featured speaker at Gettysburg that day and spoke for over two hours before the President. Lincoln’s address lasted two minutes.
Rockwell again alludes to the future by making a portal or gate. This time he uses two American flags on either side and positioned ahead of Lincoln. (There was one flag near the stand that day at Gettysburg, and it was behind Lincoln.) Also, Rockwell shadowed Lincoln’s face by one of the flags – an ominous warning about Lincoln’s future in the service of his country.
EPILOGUE
Lincoln’s Legacy:
The Spirit of Lincoln (1941) & Lincoln’s Long Shadow (1945)
“The Spirit of Lincoln” (1941)
The Long Shadow of Lincoln“ (1945)
The epilogue of Rockwell’s Lincoln explores the artist’s conception of the lasting legacy left by America’s greatest president to the nation for which he died - his words.
To Rockwell, Lincoln’s words make him, not the man who “now belongs to the Ages,” but the man who transcends the Ages.
He captures it perfectly with these two paintings that framed the W.W. II years – 1941 and 1945.
The Spirit of Lincoln, painted in the months just before America’s (December, 1941) entry into W.W. II, is truly a complicated illustration.
In it, Rockwell combines the literal Lincoln Memorial view of Lincoln (done by sculptor Daniel Chester French) with visual attributes from the 1893 patriotic poem by Professor Katherine Lee Bates – America the Beautiful, a few visual additions of his own, and an adapted version of the ending to Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, printed in a red, white and blue ribbon across the bottom.
The attributes Rockwell singled out from the poem were the dark mountain ridge above the sunlit red barn and farmland (purple mountains majesty), the rolling farm land in the forefront (the fruited plain), the sparkling New York City skyline and the sunlit small town (alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears). [5]
However, with the progressive shading from sunlight in the front to darkness in the skies behind Lincoln, Rockwell conveys a coming storm. The factories are black and sinister, but their combined smoke forms the ghostly Lincoln figure, highlighted by a ray of sunshine as he sits on his heavenly throne looking down on America.
But it’s the haunting spirit of Lincoln’s words that bring Rockwell’s story on canvas together – “…that freedom shall not perish from this earth“. [6]
The words of Abraham Lincoln were also the inspiration for The Long Shadow of Lincoln (1945), an illustration Rockwell did just as W.W. II was drawing to a close. He painted it for the cover of the February, 1945 issue of the Saturday Evening Post. [7]
Lincoln is not the focus of this painting. In fact, he’s almost lost in the crowd of vignettes. Sitting above and behind the soldier, Lincoln appears in a thoughtful pose that Rockwell adapted from another famous Lincoln photograph [see Postscriptbelow].
But this cover description, written by the Post’s editors that month in 1945, says it all [bolding is mine]:
In the heart-lifting symbolism…there is thought for all of us. For here we find not only the crippled soldier who must learn a new way of life, the builder who will help put a shattered world together, the teacher and her brood, and the sorrowing family of a fallen warrior, but also the hand of brotherhood extended to the downtrodden and, in the background, the less fortunate races of humankind who must not be forgotten if peace is to be anything more than an armistice. Here, in the faces and attitudes of these people, are determination and tolerance and the yearning for a better world. [7]
Norman Rockwell “visually immortalized” Lincoln’s advice to the nation at the end of his second inauguration in March of 1865 – literally “four score” years before 1945. And hauntingly apt:
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
This serves as the fitting capstone for
Lincoln by Rockwell
Food for thought.
Mac
Postscript:
The two Lincoln photographs by Mathew Brady (or staff) that Rockwell used in two of his paintings are shown . [8] The thoughtful pose on the right, Rockwell adapted slightly for the 1945 painting of the WW II veteran.
Lincoln’s First Photo in Washington, D.C. February 24,1861 by Alexander Gardner in Brady’s studio.
Another Mathew Brady photograph taken of Lincoln in 1861.
Works Cited and Annotated
[1] Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, MA Retrieved November 3, 2017 from https://www.nrm.org
[2] Kershner, Jim. “Famous Rockwell painting created for Spokane bank in ’60s.” The Spokesman Review. Retrieved November 3, 2017 from http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2011/feb/20/banking-on-abe/[Of note: Rockwell based several of these paintings on Carl Sandburg’s 1954 definitive biography of Lincoln: Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years and The War Years (Harcourt Brace & World, Inc., New York City, NY) – a condensed version of Sandberg’s Pulitzer Prize-winning, six-volume work by the same title.]
[3] Bialk, Elisa. “Mr. Lincoln for the Defense.” Saturday Evening Post – February 10, 1962. pp. 24-25.
[4] The Chicago Tribune Magazine, September 7, 1975. Sec.9, p. 19.
[6] There is also a version of The Spirit of Lincoln with a tattered scroll positioned just above the white farmhouse. The scroll’s message is a combination of two excerpts from Lincoln speeches – the 1861 “Annual Message to Congress” and his 1864 “Reply to the New York Workingman’s Democratic Republican Association.” This scroll was either a later add-on for war-time propaganda purposes, or for anti-communist propaganda circa 1955. It was not a Rockwell addition.
Also regarding The Spirit of Lincoln, Rockwell’s interpretation of sculptor Daniel Chester French’s Lincoln Memorial statue was painted from French’s actual sculptural studies for his famous work. French’s preserved studio, Chesterwood, was just a few miles away from Rockwell’s home in Stockbridge, MA.
[8] “Lincoln Negative, 1975 – Norman Rockwell Art Collection Trust.” Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Retrieved December 6, 2017 from https://www.nrm.orgRockwell did NOT have a copy or negative of the 1945 pose of Lincoln. It’s assumed this was from another source.
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