Honestly, most people think of Abraham Lincoln as a marble statue that somehow learned to talk. We see the beard, the stovepipe hat, and that weary expression on the five-dollar bill, and we assume his voice sounded like a pipe organ in a cathedral. It didn't. Most historical accounts, including those from his law partner William Herndon, suggest he actually had a high-pitched, almost reedy voice that could carry across a crowd of thousands without a microphone. That’s the first thing you have to wrap your head around when looking at the speeches of Abraham Lincoln. He wasn't some booming orator by nature; he was a guy who used logic and rhythm to make people feel things they weren't ready to feel.
He was a trial lawyer. That matters.
When you look at his early stuff, like the 1838 Lyceum Address, he’s basically a young guy trying to show off his vocabulary. It’s dense. It’s flowery. But as the country started tearing itself apart over slavery and the very idea of what a "United" state actually meant, his language stripped down. It got leaner. By the time he was standing on a battlefield in Pennsylvania, he wasn't interested in being fancy anymore. He was interested in being understood.
The Raw Power of the Gettysburg Address
We’ve all had to memorize it. Or at least the "Four score and seven years ago" part. But the context of the speeches of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg is often lost in the hazy glow of elementary school history lessons. Lincoln wasn't even the main event that day. Edward Everett, a famous orator of the time, spoke for two hours. Two hours! Lincoln spoke for about two minutes. He wrote it on the back of an envelope? Probably not—that’s a bit of a myth—but he did keep refining it until the last second.
What’s wild is how short it is. Just 272 words.
He didn't mention slavery by name. He didn't mention the Confederacy. He didn't even mention the North or the South. Instead, he framed the entire American experiment as a "proposition" that had to be proven. It was a lawyer’s argument turned into a prayer. Most people at the time didn't even realize they were hearing one of the greatest pieces of English literature ever written. The Chicago Times actually called it "silly" and "dishwatery." Imagine being that wrong.
Why the House Divided Speech Was a Huge Risk
Before the presidency, there was the 1858 "House Divided" speech. Lincoln was running for the Senate against Stephen Douglas. His advisors told him not to use the "house divided" metaphor. They thought it sounded too radical, too much like he was asking for a war. Lincoln told them, "The proposition is indisputably true... and I will rather be defeated with this expression in the speech than be victorious without it."
He lost that election.
But the speech made him a national figure. It showed he had a backbone. He wasn't just another politician trying to "both sides" the issue of human bondage. He used a biblical reference—Mark 3:25—to make a legal point about the Kansas-Nebraska Act. He was telling the country that the "middle ground" was a fantasy. You can't be half-slave and half-free. It’s an uncomfortable truth that resonates even now when we try to ignore big problems hoping they’ll just go away.
👉 See also: I'm Sickened But Curious: Why We Can't Look Away From The Internet's Darkest Corners
Cooper Union: The Speech That Made the President
If you want to understand how a backwoods lawyer from Illinois convinced New York elites he was presidential material, you have to look at the Cooper Union address. This is the "nerdy" Lincoln. He spent months researching the voting records of the Founding Fathers. He wanted to prove, with cold, hard data, that the men who wrote the Constitution actually intended for the federal government to have the power to stop the spread of slavery.
It wasn't a "stump speech" full of jokes. It was a 7,000-word legal brief delivered with a Midwestern accent.
By the end, when he shouted, "Right makes might," the crowd went nuts. This is a recurring theme in the speeches of Abraham Lincoln: he starts with facts and ends with a moral gut-punch. He didn't win people over by being the loudest person in the room. He won them over by being the most prepared.
The Second Inaugural and the Lack of Triumphalism
Fast forward to 1865. The war is almost over. The North has basically won. Most politicians would have used that moment to spike the football. They would have talked about how great the North was and how much the South deserved to be punished.
Lincoln didn't do that.
The Second Inaugural Address is weirdly short and incredibly somber. He basically says that maybe the war was God’s punishment for both sides because of the "offense" of slavery. He uses "both" or "each" throughout the speech to tie the two sides together in their grief. "With malice toward none, with charity for all." It’s a beautiful sentiment, but it was also a political strategy to keep the country from dissolving into a permanent insurgency after the guns stopped firing.
- He didn't gloat.
- He used the word "God" 14 times.
- He quoted the Bible 4 times.
- He acknowledged the shared trauma of the nation.
How to Actually Read Lincoln Without Getting Bored
If you try to read his collected works from start to finish, your eyes will glaze over. Don't do that. Instead, look for the rhythm. Lincoln was obsessed with the King James Bible and William Shakespeare. You can hear it in the way he balances his sentences. He uses "alliteration" and "antithesis" like a modern-day songwriter.
When he says, "The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here," he’s playing with opposites. Note/Remember. Say/Did. Here/Here. It’s catchy. That’s why we still remember it even though he claimed the world wouldn't.
The Missing Speeches and the "Lost" Records
We don't actually have a perfect transcript of every speech. Take the "Lost Speech" of 1856 in Bloomington, Illinois. Supposedly, it was so powerful that the reporters forgot to take notes because they were so mesmerized. We only have "reconstructed" versions of it. It’s a reminder that the speeches of Abraham Lincoln weren't just text on a page—they were performances. They were moments of high-stakes tension where the future of millions of people hung on whether a tall, awkward man could convince a crowd to change their minds.
Practical Lessons from Lincoln’s Style
If you're someone who has to speak in public or write for a living, there's a lot to steal from Old Abe. First, stop using big words to sound smart. Lincoln’s best sentences are made of small, punchy words. Second, use metaphors that people actually understand. He talked about "houses divided" and "a house infested with snakes." He didn't talk about "socio-political fragmentation." He talked about real things.
Also, be okay with brevity. If you can say it in two minutes, don't take twenty. People will love you for it.
What We Get Wrong About His Intent
A lot of folks think Lincoln was always the "Great Emancipator" from day one. His speeches tell a more complicated story. In his First Inaugural, he actually promised not to interfere with slavery where it already existed. He was trying to save the Union first. His views evolved. You can track his moral growth by reading his speeches in order. It makes him more human, honestly. He wasn't a perfect saint; he was a man who learned how to lead through the worst crisis imaginable.
Next Steps for History Nerds
To really get a feel for this, stop reading summaries and go straight to the source. Pick one speech—I'd suggest the Second Inaugural—and read it out loud. Don't rush. Notice where the pauses are. Notice how he doesn't use "furthermore" or "in conclusion."
Specific things you can do right now:
- Read the "Letter to Mrs. Bixby": While not a speech, it’s a masterclass in his prose style and emotional weight.
- Compare the First and Second Inaugurals: Look at how his tone shifts from a lawyerly plea to a prophetic warning.
- Visit the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library website: They have digitized versions of his original manuscripts where you can see his cross-outs and edits. It’s a great way to see how he labored over every single word.
- Listen to a professional reading: Find a recording of Sam Waterston or another actor reading the Gettysburg Address. It helps to hear the cadence rather than just seeing it as a block of text.
Lincoln’s power wasn't in his "celebrity" or his image. It was in his ability to use the English language as a tool for bridge-building in a time of total destruction. We could probably use a bit more of that right now. No gimmicks, no fluff, just the truth told simply.