CHARACTER
Chasing Lincoln's Killerby James L. Swanson

Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln

Quick Facts

  • Role: Sixteenth President of the United States; moral center whose assassination launches the manhunt narrative
  • First appearance: Prologue of the book
  • Key relationships: Wife Mary Todd Lincoln; assassin John Wilkes Booth; Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton; Secretary of State William H. Seward

Who They Are

Abraham Lincoln stands at the heart of Chasing Lincoln’s Killer as both a weary human being and a symbol of national ideals. Though present only in the opening acts, he anchors the story’s ethics—mercy over vengeance, unity over division. Swanson depicts him not as a granite monument but as a husband, father, and leader on the verge of peace: a man who has carried the war on his back and, on the very day of his death, dares to imagine a gentler future.

Personality & Traits

Lincoln’s character emerges through intimate glimpses rather than lengthy speeches: a private carriage ride, a hopeful mood, a hand held in the theatre. These vignettes reveal a statesman defined by moral clarity and practical tenderness.

  • Compassionate and forgiving: His second inaugural, quoted in the Prologue, urges reconciliation—“with malice toward none; with charity for all”—framing his postwar vision as healing, not punishment.
  • Optimistic under strain: Hours before his murder, he tells Mary they must be “more cheerful,” speaks of travel, and imagines life after the presidency—tragic optimism that heightens the shock of what follows.
  • Dedicated family man: He comforts Mary with a private drive and sits beside her at Ford’s Theatre, holding her hand—a domestic tenderness threaded through the nation’s greatest crisis.
  • Principled and forward-thinking: He calls slavery “morally wrong” and, in the April 11 speech, endorses limited Black suffrage—convictions that directly provoke Booth’s rage and precipitate the crime.
  • Humble and unpretentious: Even in death, his “plain pine box” reflects simple tastes; Swanson notes he “would not have minded,” a final act of modesty amid national grandeur.
  • Physical bearing that belies weariness: Tall at six-foot-four, with a “creased and weary-looking face” atop a lean, strong frame. Doctors remark on the gap between his aged visage and vigorous body; beneath the “baggy coat and trousers” was endurance, not frailty. His hair is “chestnut-colored.”

Character Journey

Lincoln’s arc is less a change in character than a transformation of meaning. In life, he is a living will: intent on “binding up the nation’s wounds,” cautiously outlining suffrage and Reconstruction, and savoring a rare day of happiness with his wife. In death, he becomes an emblem—a martyr who crystallizes the nation’s grief and moral resolve. Newspapers that pilloried him suddenly sanctify him; his absence generates purpose, setting the pursuit of justice in motion and defining the book’s moral register of hero and villain, a frame the narrative later names Heroism vs. Villainy.

Key Relationships

  • Mary Todd Lincoln: Their bond is affectionate, fragile, and intimate, shaped by profound losses and the presidency’s strain. Lincoln spends his final afternoon comforting her and his last living moments beside her at the theatre, underscoring that the public leader is also a private husband.

  • John Wilkes Booth: Booth sees Lincoln as a tyrant; Lincoln, unaware of the specific threat, stands as the target of Booth’s theatricalized vengeance. Booth’s fury peaks after the April 11 speech, turning political grievance into murder, and converting Lincoln from polarizing leader to martyr.

  • Edwin M. Stanton: Stanton’s loyalty is both personal and institutional. At Lincoln’s deathbed he is visibly shaken, yet immediately mobilizes the state—securing the capital, directing the investigation, and transmuting grief into action that honors Lincoln’s principles.

  • William H. Seward: A trusted confidant, Seward’s near-murder the same night exposes the plot’s breadth—evidence of the larger web of Conspiracy and Betrayal aimed at decapitating the government Lincoln led.

Defining Moments

Lincoln’s final week is a sequence of choices and scenes that distill his ideals and foreshadow his fate.

  • The April 11 Speech: From a White House window, he sketches Reconstruction and limited Black suffrage. Why it matters: It articulates moral policy and directly triggers Booth’s vow—“That is the last speech he will ever give”—turning political debate into deadly conspiracy.
  • The Final Carriage Ride: He comforts Mary and imagines their shared future after the war. Why it matters: The human joy of this moment—rare for Lincoln—sharpens the tragedy and reveals the peace he hoped to secure personally and nationally.
  • The Assassination at Ford’s Theatre: Relaxed, holding Mary’s hand during Our American Cousin, he is shot from behind at approximately 10:13 P.M. Why it matters: The killing in a public, festive space weaponizes spectacle, turning a night of laughter into national catastrophe.
  • The Deathbed Vigil at the Petersen House: For nine hours, doctors, cabinet members, and family wait as Stanton effectively assumes command. Why it matters: The scene transfers authority, forges unity in grief, and begins the transformation of Lincoln from man to martyr.

Symbolism & Significance

In Swanson’s account, Lincoln personifies the Union itself—victorious yet exhausted, intent on mercy after bloodshed. His murder feels like the war’s final convulsion, a last burst of hatred the battlefield could not extinguish. In the wake of his death, he becomes a Christ-like national martyr whose memory galvanizes the manhunt and shapes the postwar moral landscape. His ideals—“freedom and equal rights for all Americans”—stand in stark relief against the treachery that killed him.

Essential Quotes

“With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds...” This line anchors Lincoln’s ethics: reconciliation without forgetting justice. It frames Reconstruction as moral labor—healing that requires courage, not retribution—explaining why his death felt like a theft of the nation’s best hope.

“We must both be more cheerful in the future — between the war and the loss of our darling Willie — we have both been very miserable.” Lincoln’s rare buoyancy here is rooted in grief and resilience. The promise of future cheer dramatizes the cruel irony of the coming violence and humanizes the president as a husband seeking light after sorrow.

“She won’t think anything about it.” —Lincoln’s last words, spoken to his wife at Ford’s Theatre. A small reassurance to Mary becomes a final testament to his instinctive gentleness. The mundane phrasing makes the moment devastating: Lincoln’s last impulse is care, not power or politics.

“Now he belongs to the angels.” —Edwin M. Stanton’s famous remark upon Lincoln’s death. Stanton’s elegy canonizes Lincoln on the spot, converting private loss into public sanctification. It signals the instant elevation from leader to legend, setting the tone for the national mourning and the righteous pursuit that follows.