In 1864 President Abraham Lincoln wrote a letter to Mrs. Lydia Bixby in Boston consoling her for her "five sons" that were killed fighting in the 
Union army. Never mind that Mrs. Bixby was a vocal war critic who in fact lost only two sons, not five. Reprinted in a Boston newspapers, the letter struck at the heartstrings of a war-weary constituency. The letter's poigancy, as perceived by Bostonians anyhow, was no less real despite its errors of fact. Carl Sandburg later called in a "piece of the American Bible." The famed letter (read in the 1998 film "Saving Private Ryan") also has its share of doubters regarding authorship, as many historians now believe it was actually penned by Lincoln secretary John Hay. The letter was a phony in almost every sense, except perception.
Union army. Never mind that Mrs. Bixby was a vocal war critic who in fact lost only two sons, not five. Reprinted in a Boston newspapers, the letter struck at the heartstrings of a war-weary constituency. The letter's poigancy, as perceived by Bostonians anyhow, was no less real despite its errors of fact. Carl Sandburg later called in a "piece of the American Bible." The famed letter (read in the 1998 film "Saving Private Ryan") also has its share of doubters regarding authorship, as many historians now believe it was actually penned by Lincoln secretary John Hay. The letter was a phony in almost every sense, except perception.There is clearly a political art to consoling. Some, like Lincoln and FDR, have succeeded, while others, such as LBJ and Nixon, have been viewed as failures. The notion that the role of the commander-in-chief is also to be a consoler-in-chief and that the American public draws on their performance to gauge the president (and sometimes the war itself) is an interesting one. These articles speaks to the complexity of the president's role during wartime, drawing several historical parallels.
Another perspective . . .
