Perhaps Lincoln’s anxiety grew out of some degree of awe. Emperor Napoleon I — the most famous of the Bonapartes, and the prince’s uncle — towered over 19th-century history like a colossus, especially in the minds of Americans, who regarded him with a strange mixture of abhorrence and admiration. Indeed, Lincoln had spoken of Napoleon in his very first significant public address, when he himself was just a 28-year-old Illinoisan with vague ambitions of greatness. “Towering genius distains a beaten path,” he had told an audience of young men at the Springfield, Ill., lyceum, ranking Bonaparte (then dead just 17 years) alongside Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great. Such men had won eternal fame, but they had also turned the free societies of Greece, Rome and France into autocracies.
Yet for millions of ambitious young Americans — as Lincoln himself had been then —the obscure Corsican artilleryman turned emperor remained a role model. Ralph Waldo Emerson hailed Napoleon as the hero of “young, ardent and active men, everywhere,” who had nobly transformed “old, iron-bound feudal France” into “a young Ohio or New York.”