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*William de Fleurville was born in Haiti and emigrated to the United States in 1823. Sagamon County Historical Association*

Editor’s Note: Steve Inskeep is the host of NPR's Morning Edition. His previous essay in America Heritage was “The Frémonts Open the West” in the Winter 2020 issue. He has recently published Differ We Must: How Lincoln Succeeded in a Divided America, from which this essay was adapted.

Lincoln’s looming departure from Springfield in mid-February of 1861 prompted him to reflect on the city where he had lived almost a quarter century — passing “from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried.”

Here, too, was the only house he’d ever owned. The city had grown around the house, from 2500 people in 1840 to 9000 when he was elected president — a transformation for which Lincoln could claim some authorship, having supported the transfer of the state capital there. His law office in a commercial building downtown had a view of the stone statehouse, which he had been among the first lawmakers to use, and where he had delivered his House Divided speech.

Now, he went to that office to turn over his legal affairs to his junior partner, William Herndon — a slovenly, intellectual, exuberant friend who managed to admire Lincoln like a big brother, while also supposing himself to be the more learned of the two. Lincoln generously told Herndon to leave his name on the Lincoln & Herndon sign over the door, and quietly advised him not to drink so much.

Billy had been giving Lincoln shaves and haircuts for years, while Lincoln handled his legal needs, meaning that each served the other with his professional skill.

Walking to a shop nearby, Lincoln also visited William Florville, his barber. He’d been giving Lincoln shaves and haircuts for years while Lincoln handled his legal needs, meaning that each served the other with his professional skill. Each was a husband and father; Lincoln knew Florville’s son, William L. Florville, born in 1840, and an aspiring barber himself. Florville knew Lincoln’s sons, and considered Willie “a smart boy for his age, so considerate, so manly.” They knew a lot about each other’s affairs.

lincoln law office — *Abraham Lincoln and William Herndon had their law office on the third floor of this corner building from 1844-52 in Springfield, which became the capital of Illinois in 1839. Library of Congress*

A photograph of the barber showed a prosperous man in a three-piece suit with his own hair cut short. Over the years, he worked at different locations near the statehouse, and one of his newspaper ads offered advice to political candidates: “Nothing is so necessary as a smooth face.” To judge by his chatty ads, he was the kind of barber who kept the banter going in his shop, and he took pride in his work:

“I will always use the best instruments, and keep them in excellent order,” and he promised “a continued effort to please.”

One of Billy's newspaper ads offered advice to political candidates: “Nothing is so necessary as a smooth face.”

He was a man of the world: Florville was the English simplification of his name, which had been Fleurville when he was born on the north coast of Haiti. His native land once had been a French colony where enslaved laborers harvested sugarcane until they collapsed in the sun, but Florville had always been free. He was born in 1807, soon after, Haiti won independence in a brutal war against France. He grew up in a nation convulsed by political divisions and largely isolated: President Thomas Jefferson did not extend diplomatic recognition to the Black republic. France also withheld recognition, demanding that Haitians pay reparations for the crime of winning their freedom.

the last beardless photo of Lincoln, August 1860 - Library of Congress — *The last photo of a beardless Lincoln was taken in August 1860. Library of Congress*

Florville’s parents had died by his teenage years, and in 1823, his godmother took the orphan in hand as they joined the flow of Haitian refugees who fled to the United States.

In Baltimore, the young man became an apprentice to a barber. Hoping to use his French, he migrated to the former French possession of New Orleans, which might have been congenial, but for the slave markets: a free Black man could be kidnapped and sold. So, in late 1831, he ventured north and settled in Springfield. He became part of its tiny free Black community, which grew to about 200 people by 1860. He married Phoebe Rountree, a younger woman from Kentucky, and they raised a family. He played clarinet in a band and supported an effort to find a schoolmaster for Black children. He hosted Springfield’s first-ever Catholic mass in his home, and said he closed his shop on Sundays to spend the Sabbath on “those duties which properly belong to that day.”

When giving shaves and haircuts to Lincoln and other customers, he used an oversized mirror, which his descendants later kept on their dining room wall. He hung art on the shop walls; an ad promoted his “large collection of paintings and engravings to amuse and entertain the troubled in mind”; the art would so “enliven” customers’ spirits that “the gloom of despair will vanish like the dark cloud before the glory of the sun.” Lincoln, who frequently suffered from melancholy, had found a barber who understood him.

Lincoln, who frequently suffered from melancholy, had found a barber who understood him.

In 1841, Lincoln had a disastrous episode in his courtship of Mary Todd: he broke up with her for more than a year, before they reunited. He was so despondent that his best friend, Joshua Speed took the precaution of removing razors from his presence. Maybe his barber knew about this,

because one of his advertisements referred to such a danger. “The Razor is not to be trusted in the hands of any but the skillful barber. The papers tell of men, most every day, who are in the habit of shaving themselves, committing suicide with this dangerous instrument. To prevent such a fate . . . call on Billy and he will take off the beard with such ease, and cut the hair with such skill, that his patron will forget that he ever had the blues.”

If Florville ever had the blues, it wasn’t because of his finances. When he moved his shop, he put former locations up for sale and entered the real estate business. By the 1850s, he had acquired several town lots in Springfield and Bloomington. He received the Bloomington property from a customer in exchange for an agreement to shave him for the rest of his life; Billy kept his side of the bargain and shaved the man a final time upon his death.

*Florville often ran ads in the local newspaper promoting his services, with his signature humor. Sangamonlink.com*

For legal services, Florville relied on Lincoln, although he mostly needed clerical work of the sort that Lincoln, who sometimes filed papers in his hat, didn’t always keep straight. Once, Lincoln confessed to a friend, “I am in a little trouble here,” because basic information had been left off paperwork to confirm that “our Billy the Barber” owned the Bloomington lots.

Florville’s ad suggested that he had a sense of humor, as Lincoln did, and was amused by his place near Illinois’ seat of power. He proclaimed that he was the head of his own government, with a cabinet to advise him as he made a policy statement through a “proclamation” or a “Notice Extraordinaire.” He called customers “my faithful subjects” who came to him during “audience hours” behind his “Palace door” and were expected to “pay into the treasury” for his services. He referred to his son, the aspiring barber, as “the Heir Apparent,” leaving no hint if he intended the first word as a pun. One of his proclamations invited the patronage of leaders in the actual government:

Proclamation Extraordinary

I, BILLY, the Barber, would make known to the Senators, Representatives, Clerks, Judges and officers, and the Sovereigns themselves, that I am prepared to take off their beards almost by sleight of hand, and clip their hair in the most fashionable style.”

A republic had no king, and the people were “the sovereigns.” Nothing could be more American than the way Florville proclaimed this truth, but in a wry tone, while also turning it to commercial advantage.

"I am prepared to take off their beards almost by sleight of hand, and clip their hair in the most fashionable style.”

Florville himself was denied sovereignty, since Illinois reserved the vote for white men alone. Though he lived near Lincoln, he was legally in a different world, governed by

the Illinois Black Laws, which also dictated that Black people couldn’t serve on juries or testify in court. When he settled in Illinois, he was required to file evidence of his free status with a county clerk.

Moving to Illinois reduced his risk of being sold into slavery, but couldn’t eliminate it, because the law presumed he was enslaved, unless he could prove otherwise. In 1840, the sheriff of Macoupin County encountered a Black man he didn’t know. The man was superbly dressed in a satinet coat and vest, along with a black beaver hat, and “he says he is free, that he bought his freedom,” but the sheriff was unconvinced. He locked up the man named Andrew Leeper “as a runaway,” and placed an advertisement in the newspaper: “The owner of said negro (if any) will please come forward.” The sheriff repeated this ad for many weeks, indicating that Leeper spent many weeks in jail; his fate is unknown.

This problem diminished as Illinois courts become more hostile to slavery and presumed people to be free, but progress was halting. In 1848, Illinois voters approved a new constitution that authorized additional Black Laws banning Black people from moving to the state.

What did Lincoln make of these laws? His record was deeply ambiguous. When he said in debate with Stephen Douglas that he didn’t favor “the social and political equality of the white and black races,” he was accepting the reality of the Black Laws. This resembled his acceptance of slavery in the South, while he still strove for equality where he could, but he didn’t loudly say that the Black Laws were wrong.

colonization society — For a time, Lincoln officially supported black "colonization," a plan spearheaded by groups like the American Colonization Society to deport free blacks in the U.S. to Latin America or Africa. Library of Congress

Occasionally, he suggested they were wrong, as in an 1854 speech, when he said that keeping free Black people “among us as underlings” seemed no better than slavery. His principles showed the Black Laws must be wrong, because “no man is good enough to govern another man, without that other’s consent,” but, in 1858, he also said that he “never manifested any impatience” about changing the laws. That implied that he would like to have them repealed, but he found slavery more urgent. Calling for reforms would dissipate his strength against slavery, giving ammunition to Democrats who claimed that he favored racial equality.

Some of Lincoln’s allies followed their convictions to their logical conclusion and tried to have the Black Laws repealed. Richard Yates, a onetime member of Congress, spoke against them, as did the abolitionist Congressman Owen Lovejoy. But the results were so appalling as to make Lincoln’s inaction seem wise. When Yates ran for reelection in 1854, Democrats attacked his “proposal to put Negroes on an equal footing with white men” — and Yates lost, even as other anti-Nebraska men won. Lincoln’s ally

Norman B. Judd presented a petition to the state legislature calling for Black people to gain the right to testify in court. But he failed to find votes to pass even this modest loosening of the Black Laws, and the Democratic majority decided that they might as well tighten them, instead.

What did Lincoln make of these laws? His record was deeply ambiguous.

Lincoln remained officially supportive of black colonization, which gave him a defense against the charge of racial equality, though he knew colonization wasn’t practical. This put him at odds with much of the Black community of his city. In 1858, the local Colonization Society met and proposed, not for the first time, that the legislature should pay to relocate the state’s free Black population to Africa.

Some people were interested — a Springfield man once had traveled to Liberia to explore the possibilities — but others weren’t, and organized their own meeting at Clinton’s Hall, a concert venue. “We have been unable to ascertain that any intelligent man of color” wants to move to Africa, they said in a resolution that referred to the Declaration of Independence. “We take the Declaration as the Gospel of freedom; we believe in its great truth, that all men are created equal. . . . We know ourselves to be men, and we claim our rights.” Billy the Barber likely opposed colonization, having been born overseas and having chosen the United States. But he didn’t let this difference of opinion spoil his relations with his friend and customer.

lincoln beard — During his 1860 campaign, Lincoln received a letter from a 12-year-old Kansas girl, Grace Bedell, urging him to grow a beard. A month later, he was photographed with whiskers for the first time. Library of Congress

In August 1860 — the same month that the presidential campaign was heating up, and Republicans at the state fairgrounds hoisted Lincoln over their heads and carried him to the stage — Springfield’s Black residents organized a ball. It was a social event in which young men and women dressed up elegantly and danced. The Democratic paper in town covered this celebration, using a racist term in the headline and stereotypes in the text: “There was an extravagant display of crinoline and white shining teeth.”

The main part of the article described a “Bloody Finale”: Two young men got into a knife fight. One was William L. Florville, the son and namesake of Lincoln’s barber, then about 20 years old. The newspaper identified the younger Florville as a “general business man at the aristocratic establishment of Madam Nash.” Apparently, someone complained to the newspaper, and the next day’s paper contained a correction affirming that he didn’t work at what sounded like a brothel. “Florville is a young man who bears an excellent character, and we deem it an act of simple justice to him to remove the false impression.” The paper had confused Florville with the other Black man

in the fight.

Two and a half months later, Lincoln won the presidential election, and as befitted this change in his life, he began to change his appearance. He bought a new suit and hat, which caused some neighbors to say he was “putting on airs” — and visited his barber. He gave instructions for sculpting a beard that he was just beginning to grow. This was sometime before November 25, when he was photographed with whiskers for the first time.

Considering the fame of that beard, his session in Florville’s chair is poorly documented. The strongest confirmation that there even was such a meeting is an inference from facts: Florville shaved him, and he grew what was called a Shenandoah beard along his jawline, which required delicate shaving around the mouth and below the nose. Lincoln’s barber thus had something to do with this brilliant political imagery, eventually represented on everything from pennies to Mount Rushmore. But nothing he said about it was preserved.

“Billy, let’s give them a chance to grow!” Lincoln told his barber about his whiskers.

The only account of their conversation has Lincoln saying of his whiskers, “Billy, let’s give them a chance to grow!” But even if Lincoln said that, the line doesn’t give the whole story. Lincoln recently had rejected a beard. During the campaign, a girl named Grace Bedell had written him from New York, saying that she could get her older brothers to vote for him if he grew a beard: “You will look a great deal better, for your face is so thin.” He replied, “As to the whiskers, having never worn any, do you not think people would call it a piece of silly affectation if I were to begin it now?” He may have been giving voice to the opposing argument on his way to a decision. His barber would have been the person who helped him decide.

lincoln farewell — *On February 11, 1861, contrary to the date above, presidential nominee Lincoln bid farewell to Springfield from the train depot, saying: "To this people, I owe all that I am." University of Pittsburgh*

When he reached Washington D.C. in late February of 1861, the care of Lincoln’s beard passed to another Black man. But, at least twice in later years, when people from Illinois visited, Lincoln began reminiscing about his Springfield barber. One such person was the Republican governor of Illinois, who returned to Springfield and told Florville that his name had come up. Florville then wrote the president a letter. He expressed an “irresistible feeling of gratitude” that his old friend had remembered him. With a gesture of humility worthy of Lincoln himself, he said that he hoped “it might not be improper for one so humble in life and occupation to address the President of the United States.” Yet he also felt confident that “if it is read by you . . . it will be read with pleasure as

a communication from Billy the Barber.”

Lincoln was overwhelmed with letters from people wanting favors, but Florville asked for nothing. He reported on the condition of the Lincoln house in Springfield, and on the Lincolns’ dog. He also said “the truly great man” regarded “the poor and downtrodden of the Nation” with a respect equal to “those more favored in Color, position and Franchise rights. And this you have shown, and I and my people feel grateful to you for it.” Lincoln had given his friend equal treatment, even if he had never campaigned against the Black Laws. What could be said was that his anti-slavery stance was leading to a revolution with implications far beyond slavery, making the repeal of the Black Laws inevitable.

One of the first acts by the bearded president that showed his openness to greater equality involved Florville’s native nation. Lincoln opened diplomatic relations with Haiti, which no fewer than 13 of his predecessors dating back to Jefferson had failed to do. “If any good reason exists why we should persevere longer in withholding our recognition,” he said, “I am unable to discern it.” Congress passed a bill to fund a diplomatic mission, and President Lincoln appointed the first US diplomat to Haiti. He could do this because it was right; because the Southerners who would have blocked it had resigned from Congress; and because it didn’t threaten the voters back home.

Billy the Barber Shaves Lincoln

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