Lincoln in the Bardo(37)

And what a face it was.

the reverend everly thomas





LXII.

The nose heavy and somewhat Roman, the cheeks thin and furrowed, the skin bronzed, the lips full, the mouth wide.

In “Personal Recollections of Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War,” by James R. Gilmore.

His eyes dark grey, clear, very expressive, and varying with every mood.

In “The Life of Abraham Lincoln,” by Isaac N. Arnold.

His eyes were bright, keen, and a luminous gray color.

In “Lincoln’s Photographs: A Complete Album,” by Lloyd Ostendorf, account of Martin P. S. Rindlaub.

Gray-brown eyes sunken under thick eyebrows, and as though encircled by deep and dark wrinkles.

In “Personal Recollections of Mr. Lincoln,” by the Marquis de Chambrun.

His eyes were a bluish-brown.

In “Herndon’s Informants,” edited by Douglas L. Wilson and Rodney O. Davis, account of Robert Wilson.



His eyes were blueish-gray in color—always in deep shadow, however, from the upper lids, which were unusually heavy.

In “Six Months in the White House: The Story of a Picture,” by F. B. Carpenter.

Kind blue eyes, over which the lids half dropped.

In “With Lincoln from Washington to Richmond in 1865,” by John S. Barnes.

I would say, that the eyes of Prest. Lincoln, were of blueish-grey or rather greyish-blue; for, without being positive, the blue ray was always visible.

In papers of Ruth Painter Randall, account of Edward Dalton Marchant.

The saddest eyes of any human being that I have ever seen.

In “Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness,” by Joshua Wolf Shenk, account of John Widmer.

None of his pictures do him the slightest justice.

In the Utica “Herald.”

The pictures we see of him only half represent him.

Shenk, op. cit., account of Orlando B. Ficklin.

In repose, it was the saddest face I ever knew. There were days when I could scarcely look at it without crying.

Carpenter, op. cit.

But when he smiled or laughed…

Ostendorf, op. cit., account of James Miner.



It brightened, like a lit lantern, when animated.

In “Lincoln the Man,” by Donn Piatt, account of a journalist.

There were more differences between Lincoln dull & Lincoln animated, in facial expression, than I ever saw in any other human being.

In Wilson and Davis, op. cit., account of Horace White.

His hair was dark brown, without any tendency to baldness.

In “The True Story of Mary, Wife of Lincoln,” by Katherine Helm, account of Senator James Harlan.

His hair was black, still unmixed with gray.

In “Chiefly About War Matters,” by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

His hair, well silvered, though the brown then predominated; his beard was more whitened.

In “A Wisconsin Woman’s Picture of President Lincoln,” by Cordelia A. P. Harvey, in “The Wisconsin Magazine of History.”

His smile was something most lovely.

In “A Recollection of the Civil War: With the Leaders at Washington and in the Field in the Sixties,” by Charles A. Dana.

His ears were large and malformed.

In “Abraham Lincoln: A Medical Appraisal,” by Abraham M. Gordon.



When he was in a good humour I always expected him to flap with them like a good-natured elephant.

In “Ten Years of My Life,” by Princess Felix Salm-Salm.

His nose was not relatively oversized, but it looked large because of his thin face.

In “Abraham Lincoln’s Philosophy of Common Sense,” by Edward J. Kempf.

His nose is rather long but he is rather long himself, so it is a Necessity to keep the proportion complete.

In “Mary Lincoln: Biography of a Marriage,” by Ruth Painter Randall, account of a soldier.

His Way of Laughing two was rearly funney and Such awkward Jestures belonged to No other Man they actracted Universal attention from the old Sedate down to the School Boy then in a few Minnets he was as Calm & thoughtful as a Judge on the Bench.

Wilson and Davis, op. cit., account of Abner Ellis.

I thought him about the ugliest man I had ever seen.

In Francis F. Browne, “The EveryDay Life of Abraham Lincoln: A Biography of the Great American President from an Entirely New Standpoint, with Fresh and Invaluable Material,” account of Rev. George C. Noyes.

The first time I saw Mr. Lincoln I thought him the homeliest man I had ever seen.

In “My Day and Generation,” by Clark E. Carr.



The ugliest man I have ever put my eyes on.

In “The Photographs of Abraham Lincoln,” by Frederick Hill Meserve and Carl Sandburg, account of Colonel Theodore Lyman.

The homeliest man I ever saw.

Piatt, op. cit.

Not only is the ugliest man I ever saw, but the most uncouth and gawky in his manners and appearance.

In “Lincoln,” by David Herbert Donald, account of a soldier.

He was never handsome, indeed, but he grew more and more cadaverous and ungainly month by month.

In “Lincoln’s Washington: Recollections of a Journalist Who Knew Everybody,” by W. A. Croffut.