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By Newsweek Editors
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On Monday, the United States commemorates the birthdays of two very great yet oddly similar leaders. To many, Washington and Lincoln have become more myths than men, staring out at us from coins, bills and mountains, while kindly granting a day off in dreaded February.
But with all of the car sales and the vacation offerings, we tend to forget that we are remembering the man who led the fight to give us our nation--and the man who led the fight to save it.
The two had completely different backgrounds. Washington was born Feb. 22, 1732 to Mary and Augustine Washington, and grew up within a life of privilege on part of the family estate, Ferry Farm. He did not chop down a cherry tree, nor toss a coin over the Potomac--two lies that come from "Parson" Weems, who made the tales up to sell books a year after Washington's death. The real Washington would have been more inclined to climb the tree than chop it down, and his adventurous spirit gave his mother many headaches, especially after Augustine died in 1743.
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Lincoln, as any schoolchild can tell you, was born poor, on Feb. 12, 1809. Supposedly, when he first arrived into this world, he was handed to his 9-year-old cousin, Dennis, and immediately he began to cry. Frustrated, Dennis handed him back to his aunt and said, "Aunt, take him! He'll never come to much." It was the first of many insults against a man who would be called an ape, a buffoon and an incompetent idiot. Unlike Washington's misrepresented obsession with honesty, however, one name Lincoln actually did live up to his Honest Abe moniker. It is said that he once walked several miles to return an extra penny that had once been given to him in change.
Neither president had much formal schooling. But while Washington took up a deep interest in land-surveying tools, Lincoln took up a deep interest in books. Lincoln read thoroughly whatever he could get his hands on, often re-reading the same books when he could not afford others. Washington did not have the temperament for this, though he would read from as many as 16 newspapers a day as an adult, largely because he was concerned about what was being said about him.
The two men also differed in manner. Both were tall (Washington was 6 feet 2-1/2 inches and Lincoln 6 foot 4), but Washington held himself more distinctly than Lincoln, who had a habit of slouching his shoulders. When Lincoln was in the Black Hawk War (he saw no actual fighting), a small-bodied colonel approached him in the line and told him to hold his head higher. When Abe raised it some, the colonel scolded him, yelling, "Higher!" and then "a little higher." "Am I always to remain so?" Abe asked. Yes, the colonel informed him. "Then goodbye, colonel," Abe said with just a hint of sorrow, "for I shall never see you again!"
Washington made gentlemanly manners his habit, copying down 110 "Rules of Civility" as a boy. He was as well known for his emotional aloofness. Gouverneur Morris, one of Pennsylvania's delegates to the Constitutional Convention in 1787, made the mistake of telling Alexander Hamilton that he could be "as familiar with Washington as any of his other friends." Hamilton, who had been Washington's aide-de-camp during the war and knew him as well as anybody, took Morris up for a bet. If, at the next reception held, Morris would slap Washington on the shoulder and say, "My dear general, how happy I am to see you look so well," Hamilton would gladly pay for a dinner for Morris and a dozen of his friends. Morris accepted, and at the very next gathering made the daring gesture, calling out, "My dear general, I am very happy to see you look so well!" as he put his hand upon Washington's shoulder like a good chum. All became silent, as, with a frown, Washington turned his fierce eyes toward him, forcing the suddenly timid Morris to step back a few steps in order to disappear into the crowd. Morris won his dinner from Hamilton, later declaring, "I have won the bet, but paid dearly for it, and nothing could induce me to repeat it!"
Lincoln, on the other hand, came across with an awkward folksy charm and was not afraid to make fun of himself, something that Washington would never have thought to do. When, during the famous Lincoln-Douglas debates, he was accused by Stephen Douglas of being two-faced, Lincoln remarked, "I leave it to my audience. If I had another face, do you think I would wear this one?" He also used to like to tell the story of a woman who passed him in the street and piqued, "I do believe you are the ugliest man I ever saw." "Madam, you are probably right, but I can't help it." said Lincoln. "No," said the woman, "you can't help it, but you might stay at home."
This was the way that Lincoln made his career--by appealing to people in a simple, friendly manner. He also knew how to play the middle of the road and was probably one of the greatest politicians the world has ever seen. The Emancipation Proclamation, though it really didn't achieve much as far as actually freeing slaves, was a great political move that inspired the North, angered the South and still kept the divided border states in check.
Unlike Lincoln, Washington was not considered a politician--he was, and still is, in fact, considered above politics. It is often forgotten that he was a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses (he won his first term by buying most of the voters rum) and a delegate to the First and Second Continental Congresses. He earned his military reputation serving bravely but largely unsuccessfully during the French and Indian War. And when he wanted to show Congress that he could lead the American Army and so he showed up at the Second Continental Congress in full military uniform--just to remind them of his experience.
Both presidents were strong (in mind and in physique), both were athletic in ways and both enjoyed the theater. The greatest attribute, however, that must be granted to both, was their understanding of and their respect for power. Had Washington wanted to, he might easily have become a dictator--there were those, after the Revolution was won, who wished to have him as king. Yet, he refused, just like he would refuse to run for a third term of office, setting a precedent that was followed until Theodore Roosevelt ran for a third (though nonconsecutive) term in 1912.
Lincoln also did not let power get to his head. Edwin Stanton, for one, referred to Lincoln as a "damned fool," and still Lincoln appointed him secretary of War. Why? Because he felt that he was the best man for the job. Had Lincoln been an egomaniac, he never would have been able to juggle all of the politicians, generals, abolitionists, newspaper editors and others whose demands he had to give ear to. He was merciful when he could be, often freeing prisoners of war when their mothers came to ask for their pardon. And yet, when he had to, he suspended habeas corpus in order to help save the union. Toward the end of the war, despite the hard feelings he himself must undoubtedly have felt toward the South, he held true to the words of his Second Inaugural Address: "With malice toward none, with charity for all ... let us ... 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 a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations." The same man who had shown such fortitude, now chose to forego his power to punish so that he might heal instead.
When we look at the images upon Mount Rushmore, it is hard for us to visualize the compassionate Lincoln who helped bring us through the Civil War, or the bold and daring Washington who began his attack on Fort Trenton on Christmas night, 1776. We don't see the personal heartache that they each experienced from the children in their families who died, or the heartache that they experienced from watching others die in war around them. We see statues. And, as the years go by, they become as fictional as Paul Bunyon; and yet, they were real giants.
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