Mark Millican: Honest Abe led the way

Published 2:00 pm Friday, February 16, 2024

Thought by historians to be illiterate, Thomas Lincoln didn’t like it one bit when his firstborn son kept his nose in a book so much, especially when chores were being neglected. Whippings ensued. Still, because of his refusal to quit reading, a youthful Abraham Lincoln “(exercised) his will to slowly master one subject after another, (and) developed an increasing belief in his own strengths and powers,” according to presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin in her well-researched book “Leadership in Turbulent Times.”

It’s history worth citing with Presidents’ Day approaching. Abe Lincoln once told a neighbor, “I’ll study and get ready, and then the chance will come.”

Probably because of his vast reading, and also due to one of the few traits he inherited from his father — storytelling — Lincoln became a popular orator as he matured. However, his skills and rapier-sharp wit sometimes “ran amok, his light mockery turning vindictive, even cruel,” according to a friend, Thomas Herndon. It was at a political debate, Herndon recalled, when Democrat Jesse Thomas “indulged in some fun” at Lincoln’s expense. That was a mistake.

“Lincoln displayed an aspect of his great theatrical skill, resorting to mimicry, at which he had no rival,” Goodwin notes, quoting Herndon. “He imitated Thomas in gesture and voice, at times caricaturing his walk and the very motion of his body. As the crowd responded with yells and cheers, Lincoln gave way to intense and scathing ridicule, mocking still further the ludicrous way Thomas spoke. Seated in the audience, Thomas broke down in tears, and soon the ‘skinning of Thomas’ became the talk of the town.”

However, Lincoln realized he had overstepped, perhaps considering the tongue-lashing a Pyrrhic victory — that is, one that might haunt him politically in the future despite winning the immediate war of words. Or maybe the Bible reading his mother instilled in him that became part of his early life (it was the only book his family owned, all others he borrowed) sprang up and convicted him of breaking the Golden Rule of treating others the way one would like to be treated.

Lincoln sought Thomas out and “gave him a heartfelt apology, and for years afterward, the memory of that night filled (him) with the deepest chagrin,” “Leadership in Turbulent Times” notes. Years later, the shoe would be on the other foot, yet once again Lincoln took the initiative. Edwin Stanton already had a brilliant national reputation as an attorney while Lincoln was still “an emerging figure only in Illinois.” The two first crossed paths on a major patent case in Cincinnati.

“One look at Lincoln — hair askew, shirt stained, coat sleeves and trousers too short to fit his long arms and legs — and Stanton turned to his partner, George Harding (and said), ‘Why did you bring that d—-d long-armed ape here … he does not know anything and can do you no good,’” Goodwin writes. “And with that, Stanton dismissed the prairie lawyer. He never opened the brief Lincoln had laboriously prepared, never consulted him, nor even spoke a word with him.”

“Out of the humiliation, however, came a powerful self-scrutiny to improve himself,” the author continues. In fact, Lincoln stayed in court all week studying Stanton’s performance. After being elected president, Lincoln tapped Stanton for his secretary of war, guided by the “principle of forgiveness” and his concern not whether a man “has done wrong in the past, it is enough that the man does no wrong hereafter.”

Their relationship would open the door to teach Stanton a lesson.

“No two men were ever more utterly and irreconcilably unlike,” observed Stanton’s private secretary. “Where Lincoln would give a wayward subordinate such as (Civil War general) McClellan too many chances to repair his errors, Stanton was for forcing him to obey or cutting off his head.”

Goodwin notes that when Lincoln was angry at a colleague, he would write what he called a “hot” letter releasing all his pent-up wrath — and then set it down till he cooled off. Most often, he would not even post it. One night, Stanton “worked himself into a fury against one of the generals” in Lincoln’s presence.

“I would like to tell him what I think of him,” Stanton stormed.

“Why don’t you?” suggested Lincoln. “Write it all down.” When Stanton finished the letter, he returned and read it to the president.

“Capital,” Lincoln said. “Now, Stanton what are you going to do about it?”

“Why, send it, of course!”

“I wouldn’t,” said the president. “Throw it in the waste-paper basket.”

“But it took me two days to write.”

“Yes, yes and it did you ever so much good. You feel better now. That is all that is necessary. Just throw it in the basket.”

And after some additional grumbling, Stanton did just that. Later, when the press got ahold of a letter Postmaster General Montgomery Blair had written criticizing Lincoln in the early days of the war and published it, Blair carried the letter to Lincoln and offered to resign.

“Lincoln told him he had no intention of reading it, nor any desire to exact retribution,” Goodwin reports. “Forget it,” he said, “and never mention or think of it again.”

In the modern era, as in the past, some politicians have taken studious notes — mental or otherwise — and compiled a long list of past wrongs and enemies with the hope an opportunity will arise for vindication. Heck, even those of us who are not politicians are prone to do the same thing. With the opportunity to be keyboard warriors and write negatively about someone without having to confront a perceived antagonist, we can easily forget a simple Scriptural advisement: “He who has knowledge spares his words, and a man (or woman) of understanding is of a calm spirit.”

Aside from government, bank and some postal employees getting the day off, Presidents’ Day doesn’t mean that much to the rest of us. In fact, the most we see about it in print is the advertising of Presidents’ Day sales. Thankfully, we have historians like Goodwin and Stephen Ambrose who are not trying to rewrite history but dive deeper into the past to unearth what heretofore may not have been known.

Abraham Lincoln led us through turbulent times and, through trial and error, in human interactions as well.

Mark Millican is a former staff writer for the Dalton Daily Citizen.