A Man of the People: A Drama of Abraham Lincoln — Story, Setting & Ideas

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Authors: Dixon, Thomas, Jr., 1864-1946 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2008 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865 -- Drama Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 28,241

Reading time 123 min

Text sections 5

The catalog record for A Man of the People: A Drama of Abraham Lincoln — Story, Setting & Ideas provides practical reading context through 28,241 words, 2 hr 3 min estimated reading time, and 5 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 12.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865 -- Drama,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #25814

Thomas Dixon's 1920 play frames Lincoln as the savior of the Union, using a prologue in the Indiana wilderness and a tense 1864 White House confrontation with McClellan to dramatize political pressure and personal sacrifice.

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
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Edition quality

File: pg25814

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You said that He'd forget to tell them and they'd never find the way--but they came--didn't they----?

Yes, Ma, and I know now they'll come again next spring.

So--I want you never again to doubt God, my boy, and I want you never to doubt yourself. Your bare feet, your ragged clothes, how poor you are--this is nothing! It doesn't count here--it's what you feel, it's what you believe--it's what you see that counts! I've taught you to read and write, and now you can do anything! If God takes me----

[_She pauses exhausted._]

But you mustn't say that, Ma----!

"The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether!"

No! no, Ma! Don't talk that way! You'll give up if you do----!

If He calls, my son, then _my_ work is done--and _you_ can do all I've tried and failed to do----

Had she better talk so much, Pa----

[_Stoops to fix her feet._]

[_Feeling her hand._]

Just a minute more, Tom----! Don't let him know yet--_you_ know----!

[_With upward look of faith._]

It's all right--boy----

Come back close, my son, I want to tell you something I saw last night! I had a dream--the same one I had the night before you were born. You had grown a man--strong and brave--wise and gentle. The people hung on your words, and did you homage. But you remembered this cabin here in the deep woods and you were humble. I walked with you between two white pillars. It was still and solemn, in there. Outside I could hear the people calling your name. You bowed low and whispered in my ear: "This is all yours, my Mother. I bought it for you with my life. All that I am I owe to you----"

[_Her voice sinks to a whisper that is half a laugh of religious ecstasy._]

See how she's smilin'--Pa! She's getting well--I tell you----!

Don't ye understand, boy----?

What--what is it----?

[_In deep religious awe._]

Look--look at her eyes----! She's not telling ye a dream--she's looking through the gates of Heaven----

It's death--boy--it's come--Lord, God, have mercy----

[ABE _springs to his feet and stares in anguish, as_ TOM _falls on his knees beside_ NANCY. NANCY'S _hand rests gently on_ TOM'S _shaggy head, while he sobs. With her other hand she feels for_ ABE'S _and holds it feebly._]

Be good to your Father,----

[_She pauses and breathes with difficulty._]

In the days to come, he will be the child and you the man----

And love your sister----

If dark hours come, my spirit will be watching, my son--and I'll help you if I can----

And remember that you can be a great man in this free country if you only say--I will----

[NANCY'S _body sinks in death as the boy lifts his face illumined by the light of a great purpose._]

ABRAHAM LINCOLN _The President._ MRS. LINCOLN _His Wife._ COLONEL NICOLAY _His Secretary._ EDWARD _The Doorman._ EDWIN M. STANTON _Secretary of War._ GEN. GEO. B. MCCLELLAN _Lincoln's Rival._ CAPTAIN VAUGHAN _Of the U. S. Army._ BETTY WINTER _His Sweetheart._ THADDEUS STEVENS _Leader of Congress._ HENRY RAYMOND _Editor of the New York Times._ JOHN R. GILMORE _Of the New York Tribune._ COLONEL JACQUESS _A Methodist Clergyman._ JEFFERSON DAVIS _President of the Confederacy._ JUDAH P. BENJAMIN _His Secretary of State._ JUDGE ROBERT OULD _Commissioner of Exchange._ ROBERT E. LEE _Commanding General._ A SISTER _Who begs for her brother's life._ A CONGRESSMAN _Who demands a hearing._ A LITTLE GIRL _From Virginia._ A MOTHER _With a baby._ A WOMAN _Who has lost two sons._ A TELEGRAPH OPERATOR _In the White House._ A DOORMAN _At Richmond._ COMMITTEEMEN, SOLDIERS AND GUARDS.

SET SCENE: _The President's room in the White House, August 23, 1864. A flat desk left center. At right a long table and chairs. Doors open right and left. Large windows open center. Beside the center window stands an upright desk. In one corner a rack with map rollers and folios of maps on the floor and leaning against the wall._

AT RISE: _Colonel Nicolay, the President's Secretary, is seen writing before an enormous pile of mail. He reads a letter and throws it down in disgust. Reads another and hurls it into the waste basket. He rises--turns back to the desk and hurls an armful of the letters into the corner on the floor and removes enough letters to clear a space for his Chief to write._

[EDWARD _enters dragging a mail bag._]

[_Calling to the Doorman._]

Hold that door tight this morning----

Tight as a drum, sir----

If any men of importance try to crowd in before their time----

I'll look out for them, sir--here's another bag of letters, Colonel Nicolay----

And there's two more outside----

Don't blame me, sir--I didn't write 'em----

No, I'll vouch for your loyalty to the President.

Continue Reading →

The play opens not in Washington but in a rough-hewn log cabin in the Indiana woods, 1820. The stage directions emphasize the cabin's starkness: no shutter on the door, no window. This prologue establishes a visual and thematic baseline for Lincoln's origins before the action jumps to the President's room in August 1864. The contrast between the primitive frontier dwelling and the later political chamber is one of the work's most deliberate structural moves.

Dixon's historical note declares that the Emancipation Proclamation was 'purely an incident of war' and that Lincoln's primary aim was saving the Union. This interpretive lens shapes every scene. The play does not attempt a full biography; instead it selects a handful of moments—the cabin, the 1864 crisis, a Richmond scene, and the second inaugural platform—to argue for Lincoln as the creator of the American Union.

The Prologue as Foundation

The prologue is set in 1820, when Lincoln is ten years old. The cabin door is 'cut in level with the ground,' and there is 'no window.' These details are not decorative; they establish a material world of scarcity. The play uses this setting to ground Lincoln's later decisions in a specific, hardscrabble origin. The wilderness surrounds the cabin on all sides, visually isolating the family. This isolation echoes the political isolation Lincoln will face in Act I, when he is pressured to resign. The prologue lasts only one scene, but its imagery of rough timber and open doorways recurs in the language of the later acts—characters speak of 'the storm' and 'the agony and the tears' as if the cabin's exposure to the elements has become a metaphor for political vulnerability.

The 1864 Crisis and the Resignation Letter

Act I is set in the President's room on the morning of August 23, 1864. Dixon draws directly on a letter from John Nicolay to John Hay: 'Hell is to pay.' The scene centers on a written resignation that Lincoln offers to give to Henry Raymond if General McClellan will agree to run in his place. The dialogue is built around a series of conditional statements—'if you will agree,' 'on a certain condition'—that give the scene a legalistic, almost contractual rhythm. Lincoln's language shifts between blunt assessment ('You had 75,000—three to one') and dreamy abstraction ('My dream of glory may be at an end'). This alternation between hard numbers and emotional withdrawal is a recurring verbal pattern in the excerpts.

The McClellan Confrontation: Power and Command

The exchange between Lincoln and McClellan in Act I is the play's longest sustained dialogue. It moves through a series of accusations and justifications. McClellan claims Lincoln removed him unjustly; Lincoln counters that McClellan let Lee escape after Antietam. The argument is structured around the idea of 'power over men'—Lincoln says McClellan possessed a 'dangerous force' that could 'create a Nation, or destroy one.' This is not a personal quarrel; it is a debate about the relationship between military authority and civil government. Lincoln's final offer—to resign and support McClellan—is presented as a 'supreme test' of the general's loyalty to the Union rather than to his own ambition. The scene ends with Lincoln struggling with emotion, a stage direction that underscores the personal cost of the political calculation.

Movement Between Spaces: Cabin, Chamber, Capitol

The play's structure is defined by sharp geographic shifts. The prologue is set in the Indiana wilderness; Acts I and II take place in the same White House room; Act III moves to Jefferson Davis's room in Richmond; the epilogue is set on the platform of the second inauguration. Each location carries a different visual register: the cabin's rough logs, the President's room (presumably more formal, though the text does not describe it in detail), Davis's chamber, and finally the public platform before the Capitol. These shifts are not merely scenic. They map a political journey from private origin to national stage, and they allow Dixon to contrast Lincoln's world with that of his adversaries. The Richmond scene, though its content is not fully excerpted, is positioned as a counterpart to the Washington scenes, suggesting a parallel between the two leaders under pressure.

Readers approaching this play should attend to its deliberate compression of time and place. Dixon does not attempt to cover Lincoln's entire career; he selects four moments and builds each around a single, high-stakes conversation. The result is a drama that feels more like a series of argumentative set pieces than a narrative biography. The historical note is essential: it announces the play's thesis before the action begins. Treat the prologue not as a sentimental origin story but as a visual thesis about the foundation of Lincoln's political character. The play rewards attention to its stage directions, which often carry as much meaning as the dialogue.

There’s a particular weariness in Dixon’s Lincoln, carrying the Union alone in that 1864 room, which reminded me of the old plays I once browsed in A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 13 — Text and Context. Both feel like voices speaking to a small, patient audience, trusting that quiet dignity holds more weight than spectacle.