Unmasking History: How an Iconic Abraham Lincoln Portrait Was a 19th-Century 'Deepfake'

Beyond Deepfakes: The Centuries-Old Art of Image Manipulation

In our current digital age, the rise of deepfakes and AI-generated imagery has ignited widespread concern about the authenticity of what we see. It feels like a modern dilemma, yet the manipulation of images is far from a new phenomenon. In fact, this practice dates back centuries, even impacting one of America's most revered figures: Abraham Lincoln.

As Hany Farid, a professor specializing in digital image analysis at the University of California, Berkeley, astutely observes, "We may have the impression that photography can no longer be trusted." He points to the pervasive nature of doctored photographs across various media, from fashion magazines to political campaigns. However, Farid adds a crucial historical context: "The truth is, however, that photography lost its innocence many years ago."

Photography's Early Days and Lincoln's Strategic Image

From its very inception, photography has been intertwined with artistic interpretation. Many early pioneers in the field were also painters, seamlessly blending scientific observation with artistic license in their creations. Yet, the photographic portrait quickly gained a reputation as one of the most accurate methods for capturing a person's true likeness.

Abraham Lincoln, who ascended to the US presidency in 1861 just as photography was gaining traction, intuitively grasped its power. He masterfully leveraged photographs to shape his public image. Harold Holzer, author ofThe Lincoln Image, asserts that Lincoln "sensed that flattering depictions could be his cosmetic salvation." Despite often joking about his appearance, Lincoln was a frequent subject for portraits, sitting for over 120 photos in the final 18 years of his life.

The Making of an Icon: And its Hidden Truth

Among the multitude of Lincoln's portraits, one photograph taken in February 1864 by Anthony Berger became particularly iconic. This image served as the basis for an engraving that graced the five-dollar bill from 1914 to 2007. Berger worked as the head photographer for Mathew Brady's Washington, D.C. studio. Brady, a celebrated early photojournalist famous for his Civil War images, was known for his approach to image-making.

Dr. Farid notes, "Brady routinely doctored photographs to create more compelling images." This wasn't uncommon for the era. AsThe New York Timesreported, Brady, a former painter, "was not averse to certain forms of retouching." Holzer further elaborated on this widespread practice toCivil War Book Review, explaining how "prints of old Mexican War-era heroes were reissued with new heads; beardless pictures of men like Lincoln, Lee, and Jackson were updated." Publishers even created composite portraits by grafting interchangeable heads onto a few standard bodies to meet surging demand.

How a 19th-Century Portrait of Abraham Lincoln Was Later Revealed to Be a Fake

Even Lincoln himself was subject to this creative manipulation. Around 1865, his head from Berger's 1864 photograph was skillfully flipped and then composited onto the body of an 1852 engraving of Southern politician John C. Calhoun by Alexander Ritchie. Dr. Farid highlights the stark irony: "In the early part of his career, Southern politician John Calhoun was a strong supporter of slavery. It is ironic, therefore, that the nearly iconic portrait of Abraham Lincoln is a composite of Calhoun’s body and Lincoln's head."

The motivation behind this composite portrait was practical: "It is said that this was done because there was no sufficiently 'heroic-style' portrait of Lincoln available." Printmaker William Pate likely created this composite, aiming to imbue Lincoln with a more dignified and patriotic bearing. In a crucial detail, the original papers on the table in Calhoun's image, which read "Strict Constitution," "Free Trade," and "the Sovereignty of the States," were altered in the Lincoln composite to proudly display "Constitution," "Union," and "Proclamation of Freedom."

The Ultimate Irony: Union's Face on a Slavery Defender's Body

The symbolic contrast embedded in this composite couldn't be more striking. Holzer perfectly encapsulates this irony, stating, "the John C Calhoun portrait morphed into a Lincoln portrait, flowing robes and all, Unionist replacing secessionist." He elaborates for BBC Culture: "The great historical irony is that it's the preserver of the Union's head on the great nullifier's body – the emancipator's face on the body of slavery's most ardent defender."

Perhaps an even deeper irony lies in Lincoln's embrace of portraiture to solidify his position and embed the Union's ideals in the public consciousness.The New York Timesobserved, "In the early months of his presidency, Lincoln more than tolerated his photographers; he intuitively understood that they were helping him a great deal as he tried to give the Union a face – his own."

Holzer explains how early prints helped make Lincoln "palatable as a candidate, and also transformed him into an icon that symbolised limitless American opportunity." After becoming President, Lincoln intentionally altered his image by growing whiskers, prompting printmakers to produce "more avuncular and dignified portraits."

Post-Assassination Demand and the Composite's Revelation

Following Lincoln's assassination in 1865, the demand for his images exploded. "Heroic portraits, deathbed scenes, even retrospective pictures that suggested he was an active military leader" flooded the market. Holzer believes the Lincoln/Calhoun composite was likely created during this period of peak demand for images of the martyred president.

The true nature of this composite wasn't publicly revealed until 1970 when Milton Kaplan, a Library of Congress archivist, published his scholarly article "Heads of State" in theWinterthur Portfolio.

Ultimately, these images, regardless of their hidden alterations, played a pivotal role in elevating Lincoln to the status of an "American deity," as Holzer describes. Americans cherished these prints, placing them "in the most sacred spots in their homes: above the mantel in the parlour."

In the end, Lincoln might just have had the last laugh. His enduring legacy as a hero of the Union was, in part, cemented by a cleverly doctored image, utilizing the body of a man who defended slavery. A powerful testament to the long and complex history of how images shape our understanding of reality, even before the digital age.