Had you peered through the upper front window of my house, anytime over a recent two week period, you could have spied me sitting immobile, thoroughly captivated by a book. Family members considered that I was living temporarily in 19th century America, plunged as I was in Doris Kearns Goodwin’s new work, Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln.

Thoroughly wrapped up in a fine book, I once more savored the benefits of holiday leisure time. It allowed me to appreciate the many satisfactions of reading about a man who, from his earliest years, was passionately devoted to books. As he was growing up, Lincoln had few books at his disposal; but those he managed to find─the King James Bible, the plays of Shakespeare, Pilgrim’s Progress─played a vital role in shaping the man he would become.

In approaching Lincoln, Goodwin faced a daunting challenge. After all, she had proposed to write yet another book about the person who has had more written about him than any other American. She needed to find a new way to make her subject and his era come alive for her readers. She therefore decided not to focus solely on this great, iconic figure, but rather to see him in relationship to his most formidable political competitors.

In April 1960, she evokes a moment when few realized that Lincoln would be a great man. William Henry Seward, Salmon P. Chase, Edward Bates, all thought themselves to have a better shot at the Republican nomination than did the hulking rail splitter from Kentucky and Illinois. And these three competitors did not soon thereafter give up the dream of becoming president.

But Lincoln, once president, made extraordinary use of his rivals. By bringing these men into his cabinet, along with Edwin Stanton and other leading politicians of the time, and managing to bring their skills to bear (without being stymied by their ambitions and often quixotic personality traits) Lincoln successfully steered his administration through the most trying time in American history.

Goodwin portrays the 16th president as a man of altogether rare qualities of personality. “An indomitable sense of purpose,” she writes in summary, “had sustained him through the disintegration of the Union and through the darkest months of the war, when he was called upon again and again to rally his disheartened countrymen, soothe the animosity of his generals, and mediate among members of his often contentious administration.”

We are reminded once more how dark this era was. The war casualties that amounted to more than 600,000 deaths on both sides (more than America has suffered in all its other wars combined) were a frightful assault on the emotions of their countrymen. How Lincoln himself managed to cope with the reports of deaths coming from the battlefields, and what he observed there first-hand, continues to provoke wonder.

Private griefs intruded as well. In that era, the death of young people was a staple of daily life. Salmon Chase, governor of Ohio before he became Lincoln’s Secretary of the Treasury, endured the death of three wives, at least two of them in their 20s. During his presidency, Lincoln had to bear the death of his son Willie and the resulting terrible depression of his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln.

Throughout the four year struggle, the president held fast to his determination to save the union. It was only with time that he came to see how the emancipation of the people held as slaves was part of that same purpose. For a long time previously, Lincoln had been willing to compromise on the question of slavery so long as he could hold the union together.

It is painful to read that he did not consider Negroes equal to white people in intelligence and natural abilities. Moreover, he had held that, when freed, they should voluntarily go back to Africa.

Details about Lincoln’s lifestyle as president, as recounted by Goodwin, fascinated me. For instance, he used to attend the theater regularly, going to Grover’s Theater more than 100 times during his presidency. He found that plays would provide him with breaks from the often grim news of the war.

Even when pressed with business, he also would spend hours talking with friends, telling stories and anecdotes stemming from his past life. One of his favorite recreations would be to drop in at Seward’s house and talk with him far into the night.

Lincoln’s readiness to receive in the White House ordinary citizens in huge numbers revealed not only his interest in people and his patience. These public receptions also witnessed to his belief in the importance of the American populace feeling close to their government.  

The pathos of Lincoln’s assassination never fails to stir me, as it does almost everyone who reads about it. That a man who had saved the national community, as had Lincoln, could have been lost to the nation when it still sorely needed him still appears as a terrible tragedy.

Richard Griffin