Must a President be a Great Speaker?
Ask Americans today what Abraham Lincoln sounded like, and they'll probably imagine a stoic gravitas at the podium, and a deep, rolling bass voice worthy of James Earl Jones (who has narrated several Lincoln programs).
Surprise. Lincoln was a tenor who jumped up and down on stage while speaking. His presence was "uncouth" and "awkward," as even his intimates admitted. One of the common descriptions of his voice was "shrill." In one speech,
And that's from his friend, Billy Herndon.
When Lincoln spoke off the cuff, he often made trouble for himself, as when he told an Ohio crowd during the secession crisis that "there is nothing going wrong ... nothing that really hurts anybody." The press jumped all over him.
So after he became president, Lincoln made very few speeches (a mere 95 over four years, most of them brief and formal). He knew that he had a tendency to put his foot in his mouth, and that as president his every word was recorded. When the crowds called for an impromptu speech, Lincoln often declined, explaining, "Every word is so closely noted that it will not do to make trivial ones. If I were as I have been most of my life, I might perhaps talk amusing to you for half an hour, and it wouldn't hurt anybody."
"Abe is becoming more grave," a magazine correspondent wrote after the election. "He don't construct as many jokes as he did. He fears that he will get things mixed up if he don't look out."
One result of all this was that the Gettysburg Address was not recognized at the time of its delivery as a great work. Only a few men saw its worth. The conventional wisdom on Lincoln in 1863 was that he was not much of a speech-maker and a mediocrity as an orator. That's what people expected, so that's what they heard.
In the media age, George W. Bush doesn't have the luxury of avoiding comment, as Lincoln did.
Surprise. Lincoln was a tenor who jumped up and down on stage while speaking. His presence was "uncouth" and "awkward," as even his intimates admitted. One of the common descriptions of his voice was "shrill." In one speech,
Lincoln's voice was, when he first began speaking, shrill, squeaking, piping, unpleasant; his general look, his form, his pose, the color of his flesh, wrinkled and dry, his sensitiveness, and his momentary diffidence, everything seemed to be against him, but he soon recovered.
And that's from his friend, Billy Herndon.
When Lincoln spoke off the cuff, he often made trouble for himself, as when he told an Ohio crowd during the secession crisis that "there is nothing going wrong ... nothing that really hurts anybody." The press jumped all over him.
So after he became president, Lincoln made very few speeches (a mere 95 over four years, most of them brief and formal). He knew that he had a tendency to put his foot in his mouth, and that as president his every word was recorded. When the crowds called for an impromptu speech, Lincoln often declined, explaining, "Every word is so closely noted that it will not do to make trivial ones. If I were as I have been most of my life, I might perhaps talk amusing to you for half an hour, and it wouldn't hurt anybody."
"Abe is becoming more grave," a magazine correspondent wrote after the election. "He don't construct as many jokes as he did. He fears that he will get things mixed up if he don't look out."
One result of all this was that the Gettysburg Address was not recognized at the time of its delivery as a great work. Only a few men saw its worth. The conventional wisdom on Lincoln in 1863 was that he was not much of a speech-maker and a mediocrity as an orator. That's what people expected, so that's what they heard.
In the media age, George W. Bush doesn't have the luxury of avoiding comment, as Lincoln did.
