“The Rail Candidate for President”
An Interpretation of the Making and Meaning of a Political Symbol
By Robert Lincoln Harris
No political figure towers over American history like Abraham Lincoln. Washington,
Jefferson, Roosevelt and others have their supporters, but it is Lincoln who holds the
greatest sway over our hearts and minds, and whose words, actions, and achievements
have been more celebrated—and consequently more scrutinized—than any other. After
150 years of intense examination, there remains a widely-held perception as the
quintessential American hero.1
The most sobering measure of Lincoln’s greatness is the comparatively little amount of
time that he spent as a national figure. His political career prior to 1860 was decidedly
lackluster: one term in the U.S. House of Representatives, a moderately successful tenure
in the Illinois legislature, and a failed bid for the U.S. Senate in 1858. Although he had
received some notoriety for his debates with Stephan A. Douglas2 and from speaking
engagements in the East3, as late as April, 1860 Lincoln was nothing more than the
“favorite son” of Illinois Republicans and the darkest of dark horse candidates for
president.
Lincoln’s political star at the time was eclipsed by a number of more prominent national
figures within the Republican party: New York Senator and anti-slavery champion
William Seward, Pennsylvania Senator Simon Cameron, Ohio governor Salmon Chase, and
Judge Edward Bates of Missouri, to name a few. Each of these men had political
organizations, and name recognition, which far outstripped Lincoln’s. With this in mind,
the Illinoisan’s February, 1860 statement that “the taste (for the presidency) is in my
mouth a little”4 appears nothing less than delusional.
Nevertheless, a subsequent combination of good fortune and political shrewdness paved
Lincoln’s path from Springfield to the Oval Office. At bottom, the impetus for this
improbable turn of events was the use of an extraordinary symbol on Lincoln’s behalf.
This symbol—a simple wooden rail—appealed to the voting populace in a manner which
few others have, and on several different levels: the historical, class-oriented, sectional,
migratory, and artifactual.
What follows examines the rail’s meaning in each of those contexts. When considered
both individually and collectively, the various levels of the rail’s significance—along with
Lincoln’s identification as “the railsplitter”—will become clear, as will the remarkable
effectiveness of this symbol in Lincoln’s meteoric ascension in the political world.
The Rail in Historical Context
The first, and most obvious, level of the rail’s appeal was historical. To fully understand
this perspective, the precedent of the presidential election of 1840 needs to be
considered. In that year, William Henry Harrison emerged victorious thanks to the slogan
“Tippecanoe and Tyler Too,” which is still catchy to the modern ear. This was some crafty
imagemaking, which portrayed him as a simple son of nature who lived in a log cabin and
drank hard cider.5
Electoral propaganda notwithstanding, Harrison was the very epitome of an aristocrat,
while his opponent, Martin Van Buren, had risen from comparatively less-privileged
origins. Taking his cue from Andrew Jackson, Harrison seized upon a symbol that
appeared to the common man, the log cabin. Thus, Harrison enjoyed the political benefits
that flowed from having lived in a log cabin, without actually having done so.6
The Harrison template greatly influenced Richard Oglesby, the man traditionally credited
with creating the “railsplitter” persona for Lincoln. Oglesby, a lawyer and one of Lincoln’s
political supporters in Central Illinois, was also friends with John Hanks, Lincoln’s cousin
who supposedly related to Oglesby the details of an incident where the two cousins had
split rails together some 30 years prior.7
Oglesby realized the possibilities presented by this narrative by gathering up two of these
“Lincoln Rails” for use in a campaign publicity stunt at the Illinois Republican concention,
which was held in Decatur on May 9, 1860. 8 From that day forward, Lincoln was known
as “the Railsplitter,” a man who could “split rails and maul Democrats.”9
As a former Whig and a campaign worker for Harrison in 1840,10 Lincoln was acutely
aware of the benefits of an effective symbol on the campaign trail. After the rails were
displayed at Decatur, the energized candidates clamored for Lincoln’s commentary on
this turn of events. At the critical moment, Lincoln fully embraced this new symbol, telling
the assembled delegates that whether or not he had split the rails in question, he had split
even better ones in his time.11
Could Lincoln have been surprised by this display? It seems highly unlikely that Lincoln
and his advisors were unaware of what took place at Decatur.12 Having seen firsthand
what the effective use of symbolism could do for a presidential candidate, Lincoln and the
Republicans followed a course successfully charted by Harrison and the Whigs two
decades earlier.
The collapse of the Whig party in the 1850s created a political vacuum for the fledgling
Republican Party to fill. Although General John Fremont was unsuccessful as the party’s
first standard bearer in 1856, his defeat identified four crucial states for the Republicans
to win in 1860.13 Lincoln being acceptable to these states was an important prerequisite
for securing his party’s presidential nomination.14
The historical link between these two campaigns was also evident to the voting public.
The twenty-year gap which separated them allowed two generations of voters to recall
the riotous support which Harrison had received.15 By nominating a former Whig, who
then ran a campaign in the style of Old Tippecanoe, the Republicans simply rekindled a
political groundswell from a preceding generation.
Newspapers of the day did their part to note the similarities, proclaiming how “everyone
recollects how, in the time of Harrison, the log cabin and hard cider dodge worked
throughout the country.”16 Joseph Medill, in the influential Chicago Press and Tribune,
announced that Lincoln’s campaign was “Log Cabins and Hard Cider Come Again.”17 In an
important sense, the success of the rail as a symbol in the 1860 campaign is a testament
to the enduring elements of political packaging and campaign strategy.
The Rail’s Class Implications
A second component of the rail’s political appeal relates to issues of class. Together with
race, gender, and sexual orientation, socioeconomic status is a defining and, all too often,
divisive element within both society and electoral politics. While the rail’s use does not
appear to have promoted such discord, its impact is discernible, nonetheless.
By framing their candidate as the common laborer of his youth, rather than as the
successful attorney he was in 1860, Republicans made a calculated attempt to capture the
hearts and minds of working men everywhere.18 Having risen above his own humble
origins through talent, hard luck, and good fortune, Lincoln epitomized the “up by the
bootstraps” story that would later be popularized by Horatio Alger. The railsplitter
narrative fit perfectly into this image, and figured prominently into the campaign in the
form of posters, pamphlets, broadsides, and testimonial speeches. From a modern
perspective, Lincoln and railsplitting are virtually inseparable, just as they were in 1860.
Accounts of Lincoln’s own thoughts on this matter are somewhat mixed. Lincoln is said to
have detested reminders of his humble beginnings, which included his experiences as a
laborer and the many variations of the sobriquet “Abe” (“Old Abe,” “Honest Abe,” and so
forth).19 On the other hand, some contemporaries and biographers have presented an
opposing view, noting that “although Lincoln did not think any more of himself because
he had once split rails, he had too much real dignity to lose any self-respect on that
account.20
As with the historical aspect of the rail’s meaning, the press was quick to draw attention
to its class implications. Horace Greeley, for example, a well-known editor and
Republican party backer, explained what he perceived as “Mr. Lincoln’s abilities”:
Lincoln was born in the humblest walks of life, and his own life is
evidence that the poor can rise to a Presidential nomination.
Although Lincoln’s life battle was fought under many extraneous
disadvantages, his rise has been gradual and steady, as a
flatboatman, a rail splitter, a farm hand, a store clerk, and a surveyor
(emphasis added). 21
While the splitting of rails is but one of the labors that Lincoln had performed, it was the
one that most effectively captured the public’s attention.
As intended, Lincoln’s identification as a railsplitter was particularly effective in
appealing to the working class. America, they reasoned, was certainly a land of
opportunity if Lincoln’s social rise could happen. This sentiment was fairly captured by
William Green of Ohio, who wrote to Oglesby that
There is a strong reality in the fact which appeals to the hearts and
sympathies of the laboring millions that the man who made rails is
now the nominee of a mighty party for the highest office in the world.
There is nothing surer than fate that we can and will elect him.22
Green’s words proved to be prophetic, and Lincoln’s election was secured in November of
1860. The Chicago Press and Tribune sounded a similar theme, claiming that “every man
who is struggling to improve his condition by honest toil and patient endeavor feels that
in Abraham Lincoln he has a generous and confiding friend, and a dignified
representative.”23 Undoubtedly, Lincoln’s victory was thanks in no small part to those
laborers who turned out to vote for someone they identified as “one of their own.”
The Rail’s Sectional Meaning
A third component of the rail’s electoral appeal is derived from its sectional overtones.
With the simmering sectional conflict between slave states and free states coming to a
head in 1860, the disparity between them was quite pronounced. Thus, the sectional
meaning of the rail was significant.
The experiences of the elder Lincoln—Abraham’s father, Thomas Lincoln—need to be
considered here. Shortly after the birth of his son in 1809, Thomas Lincoln moved his
family from Kentucky, a slave state, to Indiana, at least partially because better
opportunities existed there.24 The operative reasoning for this move was that
slaveholders could supply their own labor force, and thus had no need to hire poor whites
such as Lincoln. This type of competition within the labor market served to drive poor
whites such as Lincoln into Northern states.
While Thomas Lincoln never realized the opportunities he was seeking, his only son did.
Abraham Lincoln’s own experience revealed, therefore, a type of economic and social
upward climb that seemed unattainable in the rigidly stratified South.25
The “railsplitter” image thus allowed Republicans , through Lincoln’s own life
experiences, to become the party of freedom of opportunity. To combat this subversive
image, Southern interests actively sought to discredit Lincoln as a threat to their way of
life. An excerpt from the Charleston Mercury demonstrates the thrust of Southern
rhetoric, which dismissed Lincoln as “a lank-sided Yankee of the unlovliest and of the
dirtiest complexion….his only achievements have been that he split a few hundred rails in
his early life.”26 Such an assessment takes Lincoln’s railsplitting at face value, and misses
the underlying connection to physical labor performed by free men.
The anti-Lincoln theme was also sounded by the Houston Telegraph, which stated that
“we regard (Lincoln) as the most dangerous politician in the Union; doubly dangerous
from his popularity as a self-made man.”27 While this type of thinking served their own
purposes by casting a self-made man as a dangerous thing, it offered hope for those in
other places and helped to carry Lincoln to the presidency in 1860.
The Rail as a Frontier Symbol
A fourth element of the rail’s appeal flows from its relation to the American frontier. By
the 1860 election, American settlement had pushed westward across the Mississippi
River, opening up a new frontier to be settled. But the recently-settled frontier, of which
Illinois was a part, provided an example of how a wilderness could be effectively tamed.
The Chicago convention which nominated Lincoln in May of 1860 is an instructive part of
this process. This was the first nominating convention to be held in “the West,” and it
commemorated the growing standing of the region in national affairs. Historians from
Turner onward have explained the significance of the frontier, and it is worthwhile to
consider the role that it played in boosting Lincoln’s candidacy for the presidency in
1860.
An underlying meaning of the “railsplitter” image is that Lincoln and his rugged
compatriots had conquered the prairie landscape by their efforts. The railsplitting
incident for which Lincoln first received notoriety was but one of the untold thousands
that helped to advance American settlement westward. By 1860, the labors of Lincoln and
others in what had once been the Northwest Territories could be properly
commemorated.
The political significance of the East was still formidable in 1860, but it was no longer
absolute. The collapse of Seward’s candidacy at the Chicago convention confirms this. As
a high-profile candidate from the largest and most influential state28 in the Union,
Seward’s name recognition surpassed all of his contemporaries. In the end, however,
Seward’s advantages could not be parlayed into a presidential nomination. Thanks in part
to the “railsplitter” image—and what might be referred to today as a “home-field
advantage”—Lincoln’s nomination and subsequent election to the presidency announced
the arrival of the Western states politically.29
The Rail as Artifact
A final aspect of the rail’s appeal merits some discussion here. The appeal of the rail as a
physical artifact became apparent almost immediately, when John Hanks sold the original
“Lincoln rails” for $5.00 apiece before leaving the Decatur convention. Requests soon
came pouring in from all quarters, as it seemed that everyone wanted a rail to call their
own. 30
The demand for these rails was met, in part, by Oglesby himself, who set up a short-lived
cottage industry of fulfilling requests for “authentic” Lincoln rails. Records from Oglesby’s
personal papers indicate that in the two months following the Decatur convention, he
shipped at least six dozen wooden rails to various destinations, for which he collected
$31.50.31 Apparently, the proceeds of this endeavor were given to John Hanks, as Oglesby
commented in his account ledger that “John has recd all the money, I have had all the
trouble.”32 The notoriety, not to mention the money, that resulted from the rail’s use was
no doubt welcomed by John Hanks as well as by Lincoln himself.
The following anecdote reveals the emotional importance attached to these “Lincoln
rails.” The story begins with a certificate of authenticity dated June 1, 1860, signed by
Hanks and prepared by Oglesby (since John Hanks could neither read nor write) which
was sent, along with an “authentic” Lincoln rail, to Dr. G.W. McMillin, which were in turn
sent to Judge A. A. Burton of Lancaster, Kentucky. Written on this certificate is an undated
notation of its presentation by Judge Burton to A.H. Mundt of Fairbury, Illinois.
Mundt’s written comments about owning this piece of history speak volumes about the
rail’s inherent significance:
Judge Burton seemed to like me to go see him and talk and go through his
collection of relics rich in historical value…Before his death he promised
me a piece of their rail, which his wife sent over to me by their nephew
after his death. It was about half a foot long. I have cut, used for inlaying,
and presented to several intimate friends from their piece until I have but
a small end section left which I would not part with for $500.00, nay even
double that. No one can dispute the genuineness of this rail….(signed) A.H.
Mundt
The section of the rail which Mundt took such pride is in the holdings of the Illinois State
Historical Society.33 It is not known whether all recipints of the “Lincoln rails” treated
them with such reverence, but Mundt clearly held his piece as an intrinsically valuable
connection to the “Railsplitter” himself.
Although Oglesby was not the only supplier of rails,34 he can certainly be deemed as the
most reputable. Moreover, the eminence he achieved later in life—Civil War general,
Governor of Illinois on three different occasions, and United States Senator—practically
assured that his would be the most historically noteworthy rail enterprise.35 That he
made such an effort at all, considering the administrative duties given to him by the
Illinois Republican Party,36 is a testament to the rail’s symbolic power.
It is apparent, therefore, that--whether intentionally or not—the casting of Abraham
Lincoln as “the Railsplitter” was a political masterstroke. By appealing to so many people,
on so many different levels, Lincoln emerged from the outer fringes of electoral politics to
capture the presidency.
The political impact of the rail’s use was truly profound. The railsplitter persona became
a crucial element of Lincoln’s appeal as the heir to Harrison and the Whigs, the champion
of the common laborer, the economic opportunity of the free states in the North, the
rugged conqueror of the Western frontier, and the inspiration for sought-after political
memorabilia. What had begun as a stunt conceived of by Oglesby somehow became a
powerful force beyond all expectations.
Perhaps the most lucid explanation of the Lincoln phenomenon is Don Fehrenbacher’s:
“(Lincoln) has been abstracted from history to serve as the representative American, and
as a consequence, much of the nation’s self-image is visible in the image of Abraham
Lincoln that successive generations have fashioned.” (Don E. Fahrenbacher, The Changing
Image of Lincoln in American Historigraphy [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968], 3-4).
1
Perhaps most notable for the future of both men, Lincoln had succeeded in skewering
Douglas on the slavery issue at Freeport. An excellent summary of the debates is found in
Chapter 1 of William Baringer’s Lincoln’s Rise to Power (Boston: Little, Brown and
Company, 1937).
2
Lincoln’s Cooper Union speech in early 1860, and the New England speaking tour which
followed, had been a successful Eastern foray. Nevertheless, the East was the home of
William Seward, the acknowledged front-runner for the 1860 Republican nomination.
3
From a letter Lincoln wrote to political associate Lyman Trumball, dated 29 April 1860.
Roy P. Basler, Lloyd A. Dunlap, and Marion D. Pratt, eds., The Collected Works of Abraham
Lincoln (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953) 4:45-46.
4
For a brief and insightful examination of the imagemaking done on Harrison’s behalf,
see Bernard A. Weisberger, “Whangdoodling,” American Heritage, (February 1989) 24.
5
Although Harrison did live in a log house, it was described as being “far from the
primitive hut the Whigs were celebrating” in Paul F. Boller, Jr. Presidential Campaigns
(New York, Oxford University Press, 1985), 72.
6
While it is likely that Lincoln and Hanks once split rails together, it is questionable as to
whether or not Hanks related this story to Oglesby.
7
Oglesby’s own account of the rail incident at Decatur is found in J. McCan Davis, How
Abraham Lincoln became President (Springfield, Ill.: The Illinois Company, 1909), 63-71.
8
This quotation is taken from a seconding speech for Lincoln’s nomination at the
Republican’s national convention in Chicago, made by Columbus Delano of Ohio and
recounted in P. Orman Ray, Ph.D, The Convention that Nominated Lincoln (Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 1916), 31.
9
Lincoln readily acknowledged, in a letter to Samuel Haycroft dated 4 June 1860, that he
had belonged to the Whig party “from its origin to its close.” Basler, et al. eds., Collected
10
Works, 4:70. Evidence of Lincoln’s involvement in the Harrison campaign is found in a
Whig campaign circular dated 31 January 1840 Ibid., 1:201-203.
A purported eyewitness account of Lincoln’s reaction to the rail display is recorded in
Jane Martin Johns, Personal Recollections of Early Decatur, Abraham Lincoln, Richard J.
Oglesby and the Civil War (Decatur, Ill.: Decatur Chapter Daughters of the American
Revolution, 1912), 82.
11
A letter to the editor of Lincoln’s hometown newspaper claimed that “…rails…(made)
by old Abe Lincoln and John Hanks…are still sound and firm, like the men who made
them. Shall we not elect the Rail Mauler president?” Unknown author, “Letter to the
Editor,” Illinois State Journal, 7 May 1860, 2. It seems likely that Lincoln saw this item
prior to the convention, as it was published two days prior.
12
13
The states were Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Indiana, and Illinois.
Conversely, Seward’s anti-slavery position made him unacceptable to these states and
cost him the party’s nomination. A telling anecdote of anti-Seward sentiment is found in
Addison G. Procter, Lincoln and the Convention of 1860 (Chicago: Chicago Historical
Society, 1918), 8-9.
14
The 78% voter turnout in 1840 remains the high-water mark for a presidential
election.
15
Harold Holzer, Gabor Boritt, Mark E. Neeley, Jr., The Lincoln Image: Abraham Lincoln
and the Popular Print (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1984), 6.
16
19 May 1860, quoted in Wayne C. Temple, “Lincoln’s Fence Rails,” Journal of the Illinois
Historical Society 27 (Spring, 1954): 28.
17
It is worthwhile to point out that in 1860, the electorate was composed entirely of
white men.
18
Lincoln’s disdain for his impoverished past is noted in Robert H. Wiebe, “Lincoln’s
Fraternal Democracy,” in Lincoln and the American Political Tradition, ed. John L. Thomas
(Amherst, Mass.: University of Massachusetts Press, 1986), 18.
19
Isaac N. Arnold, The Life of Abraham Lincoln (Chicago: Jansen, McClurg & Company,
1885), 163.
20
Wayne C. Williams, A Rail Splitter for President (Denver: The University of Denver
Press, 1951), 72.
21
William M. Green, Letter to Richard J. Oglesby, 15 June 1860. Richard J. Oglesby Papers,
Illinois State Historical Society, Springfield.
22
23
Quoted in Temple, 29.
Abraham Lincoln’s contention that his family’s move to Kentucky was “partly on
account of slavery” is noted in Mark E. Neeley Jr.’s The Abraham Lincoln Encyclopedia
(New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1982), 188.
24
See Mark E. Neeley, Jr., The Last Best Hope of Earth (Cambridge, Mass., Harvard
University Press, 1993), 58-59.
25
26
Quoted in Williams, 144.
27
Ibid, 145.
New York’s political importance for Lincoln is described in Reinhard H. Luthin, The
First Lincoln Campaign (Gloucester, Mass.: Peter Smith, 1964), 208-219.
28
Examples of Lincoln’s Chicago supporters are found in Baringer, op. cit., 209, 219, 278,
and 281.
29
The enduring popularity of toys known as “Lincoln Logs” may be due, on some
subliminal level, to their tangential association with our 16th president.
30
This undertaking is chronicled in James T. Hickey’s “Oglesby’s Fence Rail Dealings and
the 1860 Decatur Convention” in Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society (University
of Illinois Press, Volume 54, No. 1 [Spring 1961], 5-24).
31
32
Ibid, 16-17.
A.H. Mundt, Personal comments added to John Hanks, by Richard J. Oglesby, Certificate
of Authenticity, 1 June 1860, Hanks Family Collection, Illinois State Historical Society,
Springfield.
33
34
An acknowledgement of this is found in Hickey, op cit., 16-17.
Much of Oglesby’s personal papers and possessions were destroyed in a fire at his
house in 1891. The damages were described thusly: “Nearly all the family’s portraits,
perhaps half of the library, and a few other articles were got out (of the house)…but the
other rooms, filled with hundreds of articles intrinsically valuable or prized from
association, went up in smoke.” Clipping from the Lincoln (Ill.) Herald, 5 March 1891,
Richard Oglesby papers, Illinois Historical Society, Springfield.
35
Oglesby made practically all of the logistical arrangements for the Decatur convention
by himself.
36