Chapter 2: The “Longing to Rise”

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Welcome back to The Deep Dive, where we transform your sources into clear, compelling insights.

Today, we're taking a, well, a really fascinating journey back to 19th century America.

Specifically, we're looking into the formative years of some truly pivotal figures in American history.

We're diving into excerpts from Doris Kearns Goodwin's incredible book, Team of Rivals, the political genius of Abraham Lincoln.

But this isn't really about Lincoln's presidency just yet.

We're actually going further back.

We're trying to uncover the crucible that forged Abraham Lincoln and three men who would become his most significant rivals, William Henry Seward, Sam and Chase, and Edward Bates.

Right.

And our mission today really is to understand the vastly different paths these four men took, how they arrived at the doorstep of national leadership.

We'll explore their childhoods, their educations, their early careers, and personal struggles too.

We're tracing how these experiences shaped their ambitions, their characters, and their deeply held beliefs.

It's about understanding the soil from which these giants grew and why their individual journeys are just so crucial to larger American history.

You'll hear how a rapidly expanding America is ripe with ambition shaped these young men often in pretty surprising ways.

So picture this country.

It's transformed by the revolution.

Alexis de Tocqueville observed ambition becomes a universal feeling.

It was seen as a land for young men, you know, full of westward expansion, new opportunities.

The belief was that the only real barriers to success were, well, discipline and talent.

But as we're going to see talent and they manifested very differently for these four and that really laid the groundwork for the leaders they became.

That's a powerful vision.

And the source, it really paints this picture of post -revolutionary America beautifully.

We're talking about a nation that, you know, doubled its territory with the Louisiana Purchase, which fueled this massive westward migration.

The stage was set really for individuals to carve out their own destinies.

Exactly.

And what's truly fascinating here is how this huge territorial expansion wasn't just about geography changing.

It sparked this

profound societal transformation.

You had pioneers pushing west.

In the south, that meant extending cotton and slavery.

But in the north, it was more about establishing family farms, building these thriving cities.

It wasn't just physical movement, you know, it was the shift where men were actively seeking a place, a place where their dreams and their efforts could actually carve them a spot in a fast changing society.

Tocqueville really nailed it.

He noted that with those traditional class barriers kind of dissolving, the desire to rise swells in every heart at once.

And these four men were right there in the thick of it.

Bates travels 800 miles to St.

Louis, Chase goes from New Hampshire all the way to Cincinnati, Seward heads to Western New York, and Lincoln moves through Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois.

They all shared some common things, right?

They journeyed west, they all studied law, dedicated themselves to public service, joined the Whig Party,

became staunch opponents of slavery's spread.

Their starting lines couldn't have been more different, just worlds apart.

Exactly.

Creating these four really distinct pathways to national prominence.

So let's start with William Henry Seward, arguably the most privileged of the group, born 1801 Orange County, New York.

His father was a prominent figure, wealthy too, physician, magistrate, state legislator.

Seward basically grew up with every advantage you could imagine.

He seemed to approach everything with this unbounded vitality, as the source puts it.

Yeah, Seward's childhood really was one of comfort, high expectations.

He was singled out for college, which was a rare privilege back then.

Attended these rigorous preparatory academies.

I mean, they started at five in the morning with studies.

And the source mentions his sanguine temperament, meaning he approached things with this cheerful optimism, you know, whether it was competing for school honors or just enjoying good food and wine.

Now here's where it gets really interesting and complex.

Despite that privileged background, the Seward's, like other well -off families in that area, they owned enslaved people.

Young Henry apparently spent time in the slave quarters,

found it a welcome respite from his parents' kind of severe decorum.

But he also saw the brutality firsthand, like a slave child his own age being whipped, forced to wear an iron yoke only to break it and, as the source says, fled forever.

And that early personal awareness, it was deeply impactful.

It really laid the ground work for his later resolve to fight against slavery.

It's an important insight, isn't it?

Even privilege couldn't shield you from the moral realities of the time.

And maybe true moral conviction often comes not just from ideas, but from these really personal encounters.

New York was moving towards abolition then.

Slavery was fully eradicated by 1827.

And Seward himself credited this early unease for his future stance.

So he excelled at Union College, wanted to be valedictorian, joined Phi Beta Kappa.

But he almost derailed his whole education because of debt.

Apparently his allowance was stingy.

He ran off to teach in Georgia until his mother's letter revealing a broken heart brought him back.

He eventually became a successful lawyer, married into a prominent family, and kept that optimistic outlook, believing in constant progress, you know, towards more knowledge, achievement, moral development.

Right.

And his very intimate friendship with David Burden, this brilliant writer who died tragically young, it highlights something common in 19th century male friendships.

These really deep emotional bonds, they were like a lifeline for young men trying to find their way in new places, often described as having qualities of passionate romances.

They provided essential emotional support when traditional family structures weren't around.

It's just a powerful reminder of that human need for connection, especially in times of, you know, ambition and isolation.

Okay, so Seward's privilege and optimism, that's one path.

But our next figure,

Sam in Portland Chase, a starkly different crucible, one that forged this restless ambition and a kind of perpetual inner struggle.

The source calls him a restless soul incapable of finding satisfaction in his considerable achievements.

Born in New Hampshire 1808, Chase came from a distinguished family, but his father died when Salmon was only nine, left his mother with heavy debts.

So this led to a really pivotal moment.

He was sent to live with his uncle, Bishop Philander Chase, out in Ohio.

Now, his uncle was brilliant, ambitious too, but also often very harsh and severe, ruled by physical flogging and biblical precept.

Chase remembered those years as, quote, not pleasant, said he counted the days until he could leave.

Wow, that sounds incredibly harsh.

How do you think that kind of rigid upbringing, you know, ruled by physical flogging, how did that shape Chase's character and later ambitions?

Well, it clearly instilled in him this fierce sense of rectitude, right?

And an insatiable ambition, but also this profound self -reproach.

He was intellectually very precocious, memorized whole gospels, but he was terrified of public speaking, often looked awkward as he felt.

He also developed a really strong moral compass.

Hated intemperance after seeing a man drown in a shallow puddle because he was so drunk.

He called that a more eloquent sermon than any priest gave.

And that incident really solidified his lifelong commitment to temperance.

So a lot of his relentless drive, his self -criticism, it might've stemmed from that early environment.

Plus the financial hardship after his father's glass factory failed, he constantly felt he hadn't achieved enough.

Even after graduating with distinction from Dartmouth, Phi Beta Kappa Kianol, he'd even scold himself for reading novels, calling his life wasted.

Exactly.

And it raises this interesting question, doesn't it, about ambition and early adversity.

Chase's journey kind of shows how that strict discipline and financial insecurity can create this almost insatiable drive for achievement, but it's one that's perpetually shadowed by self -doubt.

That feeling of never quite being enough, no matter how much you accomplish.

After college, he taught in Washington, DC,

felt his talents were totally unappreciated, longed for the first class of society,

studied law under Attorney General William Wirt, prepared himself diligently, but always felt humbled and mortified by his perceived lack of progress.

He even disliked his own name, called it awkward, fishy, consider changing it to Spencer to Chase or Spencer Payne Chase.

Uh, yeah.

His move to Cincinnati, this booming Western city, was a very deliberate attempt to rise fast.

He, uh, rather immodestly confessed, I would rather be first in Cincinnati than first in Baltimore 20 years hence.

He became a successful lawyer there, compiled Ohio's scattered statutes, pursued lots of intellectual interests, but his personal life was just marked by immense tragedy.

He lost three young wives and two daughters to illness, suffered from profound guilt, especially about their faith.

This rekindled his religious commitment, became like a second conversion after his first wife died.

He vowed never to let ambitions supersede his religious duties.

These relentless personal losses, they profoundly shaped his later moral and political views.

Hmm.

From Chase's relentless drive, let's turn to Edward Gates.

He was the oldest of the four born on a Virginia plantation, Belmont, in 1793.

Came from what the source calls landed gentry.

His father counted Jefferson and Madison among his friends.

This family was proud of their, uh, English manorial ideals.

All right.

The Bates family really embodied that ideal of English manorial life, valuing family, hospitality, honor,

maybe more than commercial success.

But his father's service in the revolutionary war setting aside, his Quaker pacifism led to financial troubles, ostracism from the Quaker community, unrecovered debts.

And like Chase, Bates lost his father at 11, left his mother in straightened circumstances, scattered his 12 siblings to live with various relatives.

This early scattering really impacted his later focus, it seems.

Bates, like the others though, showed an early aptitude for study, got a solid education in classics and sciences from a scholarly cousin, served in the Virginia militia during the war of 1812, armed with his father's old musket.

Before being, as the source says, lured by the vast potential of the Missouri territory in 1814.

He set out alone on that tough journey.

Yeah, but his path west was definitely eased by his older brother, Frederick.

He was secretary of the new Missouri territory.

Bates quickly became a distinguished frontier lawyer in St.

Louis.

But what's really revealing about his family moving is a specific detail.

He returned to Virginia to sell his father's estate and quote, auction off any family slaves he would not transport to Missouri.

Then escorted his mother and sister, along with over 20 enslaved people on this difficult journey west.

He even noted the sale of a young woman at $530 ,000 and a boy child five years old at $290.

Wow,

that specific detail auctioning off enslaved people before the journey, that's incredibly stark.

What does that tell you about the complex moral landscape, even for a so called genteel family moving west then?

Well, it just darkly illustrates the profound contradictions baked into the era's social fabric, doesn't it?

Even within a family that values honor and fighting for kin, the system of slavery meant people were treated as property, as capital, capital to facilitate your own westward ambition and family security.

Bates found the enslaved people the greatest objects of my embarrassment during that difficult journey, which is just a chilling testament to the dehumanization in the system.

It shows how intertwined personal advancement, family loyalty, and the institution of slavery really were, even for those who might later oppose its expansion.

So Bates' success was boosted by his brother's connections, linked him to figures like William Clark, the explorer who was governor then, Thomas Hart Benton, David Barton.

His main focus really became providing for and protecting his family.

Perhaps, as you said, a direct response to his own early losses and seeing his siblings scattered.

Okay, so from Bates, the genteel pioneer, we finally arrive at Abraham Lincoln, whose path to success was, quote, longer, more torturous, and far less likely than his rivals.

Born in a log cabin, Kentucky, 1809, his father was illiterate, could only munglingly sign his name.

His early life was one of, well, very narrow circumstances, family moving from one dirt farm to another.

Yeah, and Lincoln's childhood was just marked by immense loss.

His mother, Nancy Hanks, described as a brilliant woman who taught him to read and spell,

died from milk sickness when he was only nine.

That's an illness from cows eating poisonous plants, right?

Exactly.

Then he lost his sister Sarah in childbirth when he was 19.

These losses, the source tells us, had a uniquely shattering impact on the family's tenuous stability,

left the remaining children wild ragged and dirty before his stepmother arrived.

What's particularly striking about Lincoln's way of dealing with these huge losses?

Unlike Chase finding religious solace or Bates focusing on family, Lincoln was not crazy, but simply very sad.

He found no comfort in the idea of an afterlife, told a friend sorrowfully, I'm afraid there isn't, adding, it isn't a pleasant thing to think that when we die, that is the last of us.

Yeah, and that's a crucial distinction, I think.

His familiarity with pain, combined with this resilient, humorous temperament, gave him a unique strength, an understanding of human frailty.

While his father resented his bookishness, sometimes destroyed his books, saw it as odd and indolent.

His stepmother, Sarah Bush Johnston, she recognized his uncommon natural talents, encouraged his reading, fostered his self -confidence.

Their minds, she said, seemed to run together.

That support was just invaluable.

So books really were Lincoln's academy in college.

He scoured the countryside for them, read by candlelight, even wrote on boards when paper was scarce, then shaved them clean to reuse them.

That story about borrowing Parson Weems' life of George Washington, it getting damaged in a storm, and him having to work two days to repick its value.

It's legendary.

He also found this calling and storytelling right, entertaining friends by retelling adult conversations in language, plain enough for any boy I knew to comprehend.

Absolutely.

And that developed his oratorical skill.

It became his stock in trade, in law and politics later on.

His self -education was solitary, though.

He lacked the mentors, the social advantages of Seward, Chaser, Bates, who had access to libraries and formal schools.

Yet his daunting concentration, phenomenal memory, acute reasoning faculties, and interpretive penetration made up for it.

Lincoln's story powerfully shows how lacking traditional advantages can sometimes cultivate this unparalleled self -reliance, this intellectual tenacity that few formal educations could match.

As he later advised a law student, your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other one thing.

At New Salem, he worked all sorts of jobs, methodically improved himself, mastered English grammar, geometry, trigonometry, before deciding to study law at 25.

Self -taught from borrowed books like Blackstone's Commentaries, those core legal texts.

This period also included what might have been his most passionate love and Rutledge.

Her death from fever at 22 just devastated him, pushed him to the brink of temporary derangement.

He'd apparently sit out in the woods mourning, couldn't bear the thought of snow beating on her grave.

Yeah, profound grief.

And the friendship with Joshua Speed, who offered Lincoln a bed in his store that provided crucial emotional support during this time of emotional deprivation and intellectual solitude.

Their intimacy, like Seward's with Burdan, it reflects that common feature of 19th century male friendships.

These deep bonds offering companionship, an emotional outlet, especially during times of loneliness and intense ambition.

It highlights that deep human need for connection when you're forging a new path.

It was a critical point for him, helping him launch his twin careers in law and politics.

Required, as the source says, a herculean feat of self -creation.

So let's try to bring this all together.

We've seen William Henry Seward, the privileged optimistic one, whose early exposure to slavery lit a personal moral fire.

Salmon chase, driven by that restless ambition shaped by hardship and deep personal loss, finding solace and purpose and faith.

Edward Bates, the southern aristocrat turned Western pioneer, whose family struggles on that complex relocation, including human bondage, instilled this deep commitment to his own family.

And then Abraham Lincoln, the self -made genius forged in poverty, immense personal loss, relentless self -education, whose resilience and unique gifts for language came directly out of that struggle.

Exactly.

These vastly different early lives filled with ambition, struggle, loss.

They shaped the men who would eventually come together, some as rivals, some as allies, to guide a nation through its absolute greatest crisis.

Their individual journeys, however different, really highlight the extraordinary forces at play in 19th century America and the diverse places leadership can actually spring from.

Understanding these foundational experiences gives us, well, invaluable context for their later roles on the national stage.

It really makes you wonder, doesn't it?

How much do our earliest experiences,

our wins, our deepest losses, even just the circumstances we're born into, how much do they truly define the leaders we become and what unexpected strengths can actually arise from the most difficult beginnings?

Well, thank you for joining us on this deep dive into the formative years of these truly remarkable figures.

We hope this has given you maybe a fresh perspective on the men behind the legends.

Until next time, keep digging deeper into the stories that shape our world.