The conversation
Did Abraham Lincoln’s bromance change the course of American history?
Joshua Speed found his best friend in Abraham Lincoln. Wikimedia Commons, CC BY In the spring of 1837, a “long, clumsy, ugly, shapeless man” entered Joshua Speed’s wet and dry store in Springfield, Illinois, requesting supplies for a bed. Speed said the cost would be from the US, which turned out to be very expensive for the visitor, who asked for credit until Christmas. Still, Speed, 23, was in love with this stranger; he “threw so much charm around him” and betrayed “perfect naturalness”. The stranger was none other than Abraham Lincoln, 28, a quarter of a century before taking the oath as the 16th president of the United States. Speed came spontaneously with an alternative plan. He said he had a big room upstairs above the store and a double bed that he would like to share. Without saying a word, Lincoln took the saddlebags that held his life’s belongings and went up the stairs. He came down and said, with a big smile, “Well, Speed, I’m thrilled.” Thus began what would become one of the most important friendships in American history. It was a friendship that proved redemptive for Lincoln, helping him in two serious suicide attacks of depression that threatened his relationship with his future wife and his political ambitions. It’s a story I tell in my new book, “Your Friend Forever, A. Lincoln: The Enduring Friendship of Abraham Lincoln and Joshua Speed.” Love and loss After Lincoln moved, the two men became inseparable, sharing stories, feelings, fears, hopes and dreams. Speed intensely envisioned the impressive, articulate and very funny Lincoln, who in turn felt safe opening up to his youngest friend. They shared the same bed for almost four years, although all evidence suggests that their relationship was not sexual. Instead, it was a paradigmatic male friendship from the 19th century: intimate, even loving, as each young man sought solace in his anxious and confused attempts to court women. Lincoln struggled especially with intimacy. His first love, Ann Rutledge, had died suddenly in 1835, leaving him unsettled. When Lincoln moved to Springfield, he was not in a good place. But he still hoped for love. In late 1839, Mary Todd, 21, moved from Lexington, Kentucky to Springfield (probably to escape the stepmother she despised). Mary moved in with her older sister, Elizabeth Edwards, and her husband, Ninian, in their imposing mansion. A cheerful and attractive woman, Mary was fluent in French, could quote long stretches of poetry from memory, had an excellent sense of humor and followed politics closely. Lincoln met her at a party at Edwards’ mansion – he often attended these events with Speed - and was immediately charmed by Mary. That winter, Lincoln seriously courted her. The following summer, the two were engaged to be married, scheduled for January 1, 1841. But in a change that confused historians, Lincoln broke off his engagement in late December 1840 and fell into a suicidal depression. Bedridden, he had hallucinations, and his friends were concerned enough to hide his razor. He was, in the words of his friend, future legal partner and eventual biographer William H. Herndon, “crazy as a lunatic”. What historians did not notice – and what I was able to discover in the course of my research – is that Speed, whose father had died in the spring of 1840, planned to return to Louisville, Kentucky, to correct the problems of the family’s large plantation. In August and September, Speed began publishing news in the local newspaper, collecting his debts as he prepared to sell his store and return to Louisville. Speed did not leave until the spring of 1841. But in the fall of 1840, when his marriage to Mary Todd was approaching, Lincoln lived with the prospect of losing his best friend. My argument is that Lincoln was confused – even in a panic – at the imminent loss of speed and the approaching wedding date. He fired and, without warning, suddenly broke off his engagement to Mary. A Brief Meeting In the late summer of 1841, Lincoln visited the Speed plantation in Louisville. Together, friends went for long walks together, and Speed’s mother, Lucy, adored Lincoln. About this time, Speed met Fanny Henning and quickly became engaged – at which point he also became depressed, as did Lincoln earlier in the year. Speed’s fears of intimacy, as he later wrote in a letter to Herndon, reflected Lincoln’s. He even feared being separated from his friend again and ended up returning to Springfield for the rest of the fall to be with Lincoln. But at the end of the year, Speed felt he needed to return to Kentucky to prepare for his wedding in February. (There was no way, given the distance and his work obligations, for Lincoln to travel to Louisville for the wedding.) It was painful for the two men to part ways again. During those first two months of 1842, Lincoln wrote a remarkable series of letters to Speed before the wedding on February 15. (Unfortunately, we don’t have Speed’s answers.) This is the inside of men – “silent,” as Herndon called it – revealed his deepest feelings to his best friend. “You know that my desire to befriend you is eternal,” Lincoln wrote in one of those letters, “that I will never cease as long as I know how to do anything.” Lincoln’s special knowledge of Speed’s inner life permeates the very structure of the lyrics. “Feeling, as I know you do,” begins the first sentence of the first letter. In another letter, Lincoln notes: “You know very well that I don’t feel my own sorrows much more intensely than yours.” “You’re going to feel really bad,” he says, knowing Speed’s fears of consummating the marriage. And later: “… it is a peculiar misfortune for both you and me, to dream dreams of Elysium [paradise in classical mythology] far superior to anything that any earthly thing can accomplish. In other words, what Speed feels, Lincoln feels. What Speed knows, Lincoln knows. Whatever Speed does, Lincoln does too. Lincoln fits into Speed’s self, which he experiences as a dimension of his own. Testing the waters of intimacy As Speed’s wedding approached, Lincoln projected his own confused fantasies on his friend to vicariously test the waters of intimacy. (Lincoln and Mary Todd were not in contact at the time.) It appears that Speed barely fell out of his wedding bed on the morning of February 16 to write to his friend about his successful consummation – and how the roof did not fall – which elicited a fervent response from Lincoln: “I received yours from the 12th written on the day you went down to William’s house, a few days later; but it took me a long time to answer it, until I received the promise, from the 16th, which came last night. I opened the latter, with intense anxiety and trepidation – so much so, that although I did better than I expected, I hardly managed to calm down within ten hours ”. It is remarkable to think that Abraham Lincoln, 33, was still feeling anxious 10 full hours after reading the news of Speed’s successful marriage. Was this an emotional turning point for Lincoln? It is as if his fears of intimacy are suddenly dispelled: if Joshua could do that, so could he. Within a few months, he returned to dating Mary Todd, who graciously waited for him. They were married on November 4, 1842, in the living room of the Edwards’ house. About 10 days later, Lincoln closed an innocuous letter to a business partner, Samuel D. Marshall, noting: “Nothing new here, except my marriage, which for me is a matter of profound amazement.” Lincoln used to be sad and melancholy, but he never again felt clinically depressed and suicidal. His friendship with Speed proved to be therapeutic, even redemptive. Joshua Speed certainly helped to guide you emotionally towards intimacy and love. As an old friend said, Lincoln “always thanked Josh for his Mary”. This article was republished from The Conversation, a non-profit news site dedicated to sharing ideas from academic experts. Read more: Whistler’s mother’s extraordinary lifeThe emerging science of ‘bromosexual’ friendships What would Abraham Lincoln say to Donald Trump about religion, politics and being a ‘Don’t know anything’? Charles B. Strozier does not work for, consult, own shares or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article and did not disclose relevant affiliations other than his academic appointment.