Lincoln's Boyhood Recollection of Revolutionary Bravery

By William F. Walsh

Jan. 22, 2026

“I recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must have been something more than common that those men struggled for.” It was exceedingly rare for Abraham Lincoln to speak of his childhood. Yet, he was doing just that on Feb. 21, 1861, as he reflected on the Revolution’s Battle of Trenton before the members of the New Jersey Senate.

Gen. George Washington, victor at the Battle of Trenton

The president-elect was introducing himself at stops along his circuitous 1,900-mile rail journey from his hometown of Springfield, Illinois to the White House. Counting his poignant farewell speech on Feb. 11, 1861, Lincoln gave 48 mostly original orations at nearly as many stops before his train reached Trenton. Afterward, he would make five more stops before arriving in Washington, D. C. on Feb. 27. In Philadelphia, he would famously disclose that the Declaration of Independence was the inspiration for all his political ideas. 

 In Trenton, Lincoln highlighted the Declaration’s promise of liberty for all. Seeking common ground with his audience, he reminded the senators, all of whom were male, that like himself they had once been impressionable boys spellbound by heroic figures such as those he encountered in Mason Locke Weems’ “The Life of Geoge Washington.”  As a boy he had imagined scenes of excruciating hardship during the “struggle here at Trenton,” and he wondered what had energized the valorous actions undertaken at great risk by Washington and the soldiers under his command. Young Abe realized that the nearly beaten, frozen, and starving patriots were striving to actualizing the “original idea for which the struggle was made.” That idea -- the right to liberty -- inspired the astonishing victories at Trenton and Princeton. Liberty, personified by Weems as a threatened goddess, would there find permanent refuge from her tyrannical pursuers.

Returning to the impending crises of his time, Lincoln said he was anxious to safeguard the Declaration’s “great promise to all the people of the world to all time to come.” He intimated he would consider his presidency a success if at the end of his term the promise was perpetuated. Little did he know that he would lead the country through a second arduous struggle for liberty, union, and equality that at great cost in treasure and life would make the promise of freedom a reality for four million enslaved people. Ending his speech to the Senate, Lincoln dashed to the state General Assembly, where, seamlessly changing themes, he described himself as a man of peace devoid of “malice toward any section.” That harmonious chord would reappear in his Second Inaugural Address on March 4, 1865.

Image from the Library of Congress