Books: The Life of Abraham Lincoln
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Henry Ketcham >> The Life of Abraham Lincoln
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After the nomination the committee of the convention duly called on
Lincoln to give him the formal notification. This committee included
some names that were at that time, and still more so later, widely
known. Among them were three from Massachusetts: Ashmun, then Governor,
and chairman of the Chicago convention, Bowles, editor of the
Springfield _Republican_, and Boutwell. There were also Gideon
Welles, Carl Schurz, Francis P. Blair, and W. M. Evarts. The chairman
of this committee notified Lincoln in a brief speech, to which he
responded with equal brevity. Even these few words impressed his
hearers with a sense of dignity and manliness which they were only too
glad to perceive. Said Mr. Boutwell: "Why, sir, they told me he was a
rough diamond. Nothing could have been in better taste than that
speech."
One who had opposed Lincoln in the convention said: "We might have done
a more daring thing [than nominate him], but we certainly could not
have done a better thing." Carl Schurz evidently shared this feeling.
Judge Kelly of Pennsylvania was a very tall man and was proud of the
fact. During the brief ceremony he and Lincoln had been measuring each
other with the eye. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the President-
elect demanded:
"What's your height?"
"Six feet three. What is yours, Mr. Lincoln?"
"Six feet four."
"Then," said the judge, "Pennsylvania bows to Illinois. My dear man,
for many years my heart has been aching for a President I could _look
up to_, and I've found him at last in the land where we thought
there were none but _little_ giants."
The general feeling of the committee was that the convention had made
no mistake. This feeling quickly spread throughout the entire party.
Some of Seward's friends wanted him to run on an independent ticket. It
is to his credit that he scouted the idea. The democrats, at least the
opponents of Lincoln, were divided into three camps, The first was the
regular party, headed by Douglas. The second was the bolting party of
fire-eaters, who nominated Breckinridge. The third was the party that
nominated Bell and Everett. This was wittily called the Kangaroo
ticket, because the tail was the most important part. Lincoln's popular
vote at the November election was about forty per cent, of the total.
It was plain that if his supporters held together and his opponents
were divided, he could readily get a plurality. There were attempts on
the part of the opponents of Lincoln to run fusion tickets in New York,
New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, so as to divert the electoral votes from
him; but these came to nothing more than that New Jersey diverted three
of her seven electoral votes.
A curious feature of the campaign was that all four candidates declared
emphatically for the Union. Breckinridge, who was the candidate of the
Southern disunionists, wrote; "The Constitution and the equality of the
states, these are symbols of everlasting union." Lincoln himself could
hardly have used stronger language. Some people were doubtless deceived
by these protestations, but not Douglas. He declared: "I do not believe
that every Breckinridge man is a disunionist, but I do believe that
every disunionist in America is a Breckinridge man." During the period
of nearly six months between nomination and election, Lincoln continued
simple, patient, wise. He was gratified by the nomination. He was not
elated, for he was not an ambitious man. On the contrary, he felt the
burden of responsibility. He was a far-seeing statesman, and no man
more distinctly realized the coming tragedy. He felt the call of duty,
not to triumph but to sacrifice. This was the cause of his seriousness
and gravity of demeanor.
There was no unnecessary change in his simple manners and unpretentious
method of living. Friends and neighbors came, and he was glad to see
them. He answered the door-bell himself and accompanied visitors to the
door. Some of his friends, desiring to save his strength in these
little matters, procured a negro valet, Thomas by name. But Abraham
continued to do most of the duties that by right belonged to Thomas.
Some one sent him a silk hat, that he might go to Washington with head-
gear equal to the occasion. A farmer's wife knit him a pair of yarn
stockings. Hundreds of such attentions, kind in intent, grotesque in
appearance, he received with that kindness which is the soul of
courtesy. There was a woman at whose modest farmhouse he had once dined
on a bowl of bread and milk, because he had arrived after everything
else had been eaten up. She came into Springfield to renew her
apologies and to remind him that he had said that that repast was "good
enough for the President." While he commanded the respect of Bryant,
Schurz, Boutwell, and such, he was at the same time the idol of the
plain people, whom he always loved. He once said he thought the Lord
particularly loved plain people, for he had made so many of them.
Shortly after his nomination he was present at a party in Chicago. A
little girl approached timidly. He asked, encouragingly, if he could do
anything for her. She replied that she wanted his name. He looked about
and said, "But here are other little girls--they will feel badly if I
give my name only to you." She said there were eight of them in all.
"Then," said he, "get me eight sheets of paper, and a pen and ink, and
I will see what I can do for you." The materials were brought, and in
the crowded drawing-room he sat down, wrote a sentence and his name on
each sheet of paper. Thus he made eight little girls happy.
The campaign was one of great excitement. His letter of acceptance was
of the briefest description and simply announced his adherence to the
platform. For the rest, his previous utterances in the debates with
Douglas, the Cooper Institute speech, and other addresses, were in
print, and he was content to stand by the record. He showed his wisdom
in his refusing to be diverted, or to allow his party to be diverted,
from the one important question of preventing the further extension of
slavery. The public were not permitted to lose sight of the fact that
this was the real issue. The Chicago wigwam was copied in many cities:
temporary wooden structures were erected for republican meetings. These
did good service as rallying centers.
Then the campaign biographers began to appear. It was said that by June
he had had no less than fifty-two applications to write his biography.
One such book was written by W. D. Howells, not so famous in literature
then as now. Lincoln furnished a sketch of his life, an "autobiography"
so called. This contains only about five hundred words. Its brevity is
an indication of its modesty.
Nor was there any lack of eulogistic music. Among the writers of
campaign songs were J. G. Whittier and E. C. Stedman.
The parading contingent of the party was represented by the "Wide-
Awakes." The uniform was as effective as simple. It consisted of a
cadet cap and a cape, both made of oil-cloth, and a torch. The first
company was organized in Hartford. It had escorted Lincoln from the
hotel to the hall and back again when he spoke in that city in February
after his Cooper Institute speech. The idea of this uniformed company
of cadets captivated the public fancy. Bands of Wide-Awakes were
organized in every community in the North. At the frequent political
rallies they poured in by thousands and tens of thousands, a very
picturesque sight. The original band in Hartford obtained the identical
maul with which Lincoln had split those rails in 1830. It is now in the
collection of the Connecticut Historical Society, in Hartford.
Though Lincoln had much to cheer him, he had also his share of
annoyances. One of his discouragements was so serious, and at this day
it appears so amazing, that it is given nearly in full. A careful
canvas had been made of the voters of Springfield, and the intention of
each voter had been recorded. Lincoln had the book containing this
record. He asked his friend Mr. Bateman, the State Superintendent of
Public Instruction, to look through the book with him. They noted
particularly those who might be considered leaders of public morals:
clergymen, officers, or prominent members of the churches.
When the memorandum was tabulated, after some minutes of silence, he
turned a sad face to Mr. Bateman, and said: "Here are twenty-three
ministers, of different denominations, and all of them are against me
but three; and here are a great many prominent members of the churches,
a very large majority of whom are against me. Mr. Bateman, I am not a
Christian--God knows I would be one--but I have carefully read the
Bible, and I do not so understand this book." He drew from his pocket a
New Testament. "These men well know that I am for freedom in the
territories, freedom everywhere as far as the Constitution and laws
will permit, and that my opponents are for slavery. They know this, and
yet, with this book in their hands, in the light of which human bondage
cannot live a moment, they are going to vote against me. I do not
understand it at all."
After a long pause, he added with tears: "I know there is a God, and
that He hates injustice and slavery. I see the storm coming, and I know
that His hand is in it. If He has a place and work for me--and I think
He has--I believe I am ready. I am nothing, but truth is everything. I
know I am right because I know that liberty is right, for Christ
teaches it, and Christ is God. I have told them that a house divided
against itself cannot stand, and Christ and reason say the same; and
they will find it so. Douglas doesn't care whether slavery is voted up
or voted down, but God cares, and humanity cares, and I care; and with
God's help I shall not fail. I may not see the end; but it will come
and I shall be vindicated; and these men will find that they have not
read their Bibles aright."
After another pause: "Doesn't it appear strange that men can ignore the
moral aspects of this contest? A revelation could not make it plainer
to me that slavery or the government must be destroyed. The future
would be something awful, as I look at it, but for this rock [the
Testament which he was holding] on which I stand,--especially with the
knowledge of how these ministers are going to vote. It seems as if God
had borne with this thing [slavery] until the very teachers of religion
had come to defend it from the Bible, and to claim for it a divine
character and sanction; and now the cup of iniquity is full, and the
vials of wrath will be poured out."
Lincoln did not wear his heart upon his sleeve. On the subject of
religion, he was reticent to a degree. Peter Cartwright had called him
an atheist. There was a wide, if not general, impression, that he was
not a religious man. This did him great injustice. It is for this
reason that his remarks to Mr. Bateman are here quoted at length. From
his early boyhood, from before the time when he was at great pains to
have a memorial sermon for his mother, he was profoundly, intensely
religious. He did no injustice to any other man, he did not do justice
to himself.
The election occurred on the sixth day of November. The vote was as
follows: Lincoln received 1,866,452 popular votes, and one hundred and
eighty electoral votes. Douglas received 1,375,157 popular votes, and
twelve electoral votes. Breckinridge received 847,953 popular votes,
and seventy-two electoral votes. Bell received 590,631 popular votes,
and thirty-nine electoral votes.
Lincoln carried all the free states, excepting that in New Jersey the
electoral vote was divided, he receiving four out of seven. In the
fifteen slave states he received no electoral vote. In ten states not
one person had voted for him.
Of the 303 electoral votes he had received 180, while the aggregate of
all against him numbered 123, giving him an absolute majority of 57.
The electoral vote was duly counted in the joint session of the two
houses of congress February 13, 1861, and it was officially announced
that Abraham Lincoln, having received a majority of the votes of the
presidential electors, was duly elected President of the United States
for four years, beginning March 4, 1861.
One circumstance is added which may be of interest to the reader. This
was published, after his death, by his personal friend, Noah Brooks. It
is given in Lincoln's own words: "It was just after my election, in
1860, when the news had been coming in thick and fast all day, and
there had been a great 'Hurrah boys!' so that I was well tired out and
went home to rest, throwing myself upon a lounge in my chamber.
Opposite to where I lay was a bureau with a swinging glass upon it; and
looking in that glass, I saw myself reflected nearly at full length;
but my face, I noticed, had two separate and distinct images, the tip
of the nose of the one being about three inches from the tip of the
other. I was a little bothered, perhaps startled, and got up and looked
in the glass, but the illusion vanished. On lying down again, I saw it
a second time, plainer, if possible, than before; and then I noticed
that one of the faces was a little paler--say five shades--than the
other. I got up, and the thing melted away, and I went off, and, in the
excitement of the hour, forgot all about it,--nearly, but not quite,
for the thing would once in a while come up, and give me a little pang
as though something uncomfortable had happened. When I went home, I
told my wife about it, and a few days after I tried the experiment
again, when, sure enough, the thing came back again; but I never
succeeded in bringing the ghost back after that, though I once tried
very industriously to show it to my wife, who was worried about it
somewhat. She thought it was 'a sign' that I was to be elected to a
second term of office, and that the paleness of one of the faces was an
omen that I should not see life through the last term."
The incident is of no interest excepting in so far as everything about
Lincoln is of interest. The phenomenon is an optical illusion not
uncommon. One image--the "paler," or more indistinct, one--is reflected
from the surface of the glass, while the other is reflected from the
silvered back of the glass. Though Lincoln understood that it was an
optical illusion, yet the thought of it evidently weighed on him.
Otherwise he would not have repeated the experiment several times, nor
would he have told of it to different persons.
CHAPTER XX.
FOUR LONG MONTHS.
Four months would not ordinarily be considered a long period of time.
But when one is compelled to see the working of a vast amount of
mischief, powerless to prevent it, and knowing one's self to be the
chief victim of it all, the time is long. Such was the fate of Lincoln.
The election was not the end of a life of toil and struggle, it was the
beginning of a new career of sorrow. The period of four months between
the election and inauguration could not be devoted to rest or to the
pleasant plans for a prosperous term of service. There developed a plan
for the disruption of the government. The excuse was Lincoln's
election. But he was for four months only a private citizen. He had no
power. He could only watch the growing mischief and realize that he was
the ultimate victim. Buchanan, who was then President, had a genius for
doing the most unwise thing. He was a northern man with southern
principles, and this may have unfitted him to see things in their true
relations. He certainly was putty in the hands of those who wished to
destroy the Union, and his vacillation precisely accomplished what they
wished. Had he possessed the firmness and spirit of John A. Dix, who
ordered,--"If any man attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot
him on the spot;" had he had a modicum of the patriotism of Andrew
Jackson; had he had a tithe of the wisdom and manliness of Lincoln;
secession would have been nipped in the bud and vast treasures of money
and irreparable waste of human blood would have been spared. Whatever
the reason may have been,--incapacity, obliquity of moral and political
vision, or absolute championship of the cause of disruption,--certain
it is that the southern fire-eaters could not have found a tool more
perfectly suited to their purpose than James Buchanan. He was the
center of one of the most astonishing political cabals of all history.
Lincoln did not pass indiscriminate condemnation upon all men of
southern sympathies. At the time of which we are now writing, and
consistently up to the end of his life, he made a marked distinction
between the rank and file of the Confederates on the one hand, and
those leaders who, on the other hand, had, while in the service of the
United States government, sought to accomplish its destruction. The
first were revolutionists; they were so regarded generally in Europe,
and he believed they were sincere; he regarded them as having the
spirit of revolutionists. For the second, who held office under, drew
pay from, and were under solemn oath to support, the government, while
they were using the vantage of their official position to violate the
Constitution and disrupt that government, there is but one word, and
that a strong one,--traitors. This was Lincoln's judgment of the men.
Let us now briefly describe the situation. Jefferson Davis, though not
a member of Buchanan's cabinet, was probably the most influential of
the Southerners in Washington. He had been Secretary of War under
Pierce, and it was he who inaugurated the policy of stripping the North
for the purpose of strengthening the military defenses of the South.
This policy was vigorously pursued under his successor.
The only person to call a halt to the treasonable proceedings was
General Winfield Scott. He was residing in New York City, and on
October 29th addressed a letter to President Buchanan containing his
views upon the situation. A day or two later he added supplementary
considerations addressed to the Secretary of War. He set forth, with
much clearness and force, the necessity of garrisoning the southern
forts before they should be lost; His letter had its faults, but it
accomplished one thing: it showed that there was one high official who
was in earnest in the discharge of his duties, and with whom it was not
safe to trifle.
President Buchanan sent in his annual message to Congress December
3, 1860. In his discussion of the subject of slavery, he recommended
that it be extended to the territories,--the very thing that the people
had just voted should not be done. Concerning secession, he said for
substance that the government had the power to suppress revolt, but
that it could not use that power in reference to South Carolina, the
state then under consideration. The secessionists had apparently tied
the hands of the executive effectually.
Now observe what was going on in the cabinet. Lewis Cass had been
Secretary of State, but resigned in indignation over the inaction of
the President when he failed to succor the forts in Charleston Harbor.
He was succeeded by Jeremiah S. Black, who, as attorney-general, had
given to Buchanan an opinion that the Federal government had no power
to coerce a seceding state.
Howell Cobb, Secretary of the Treasury, having wasted the funds and
destroyed the credit of the government, resigned and left an empty
treasury.
John B. Floyd, Secretary of War, was not the least active. He carried
out fully the plan which Jefferson Davis had begun to operate several
years before. The northern arsenals were stripped of the arms and
ammunition which were sent South for storage or use. The number of
regular troops was small, but the few soldiers there were, he scattered
in distant places, so that they should be out of reach. They were not
to be available for the use of the government until the conspirators
should have time to complete their work. It was Floyd whom an emotional
Virginian later eulogized. With quite as much truth as poetry he
declared that the Secretary of War "thwarted, objected, resisted, and
forbade" the efforts of General Scott. This same admirer of Floyd
further declared that, if Scott's plans had been adopted and his
measures executed, the conspiracy would have been defeated and it would
have been impossible to form the Southern Confederacy.
Not worse, perhaps, but more flagrant, was the action of the Secretary
of the Interior, Thompson of Mississippi. With the advice and consent
of Buchanan, he left his post at Washington to visit North Carolina and
help on the work of secession, and then returned and resumed his
official prerogatives under the government he had sworn to sustain.
This is so grave a matter that a passage from the diary of Mr. Clingman
is here inserted, quoted by Nicolay and Hay: "About the middle of
December (1860) I had occasion to see the Secretary of the Interior on
some official business. On my entering the room, Mr. Thompson said to
me, 'Clingman, I am glad you have called, for I intended presently to
go up to the senate to see you. I have been appointed a commissioner by
the state of Mississippi to go down to North Carolina to get your state
to secede.' ... I said to him, 'I did not know you had resigned.' He
answered, 'Oh, no! I have not resigned.' 'Then,' I replied, 'I suppose
you resign in the morning.' 'No,' he answered, 'I do not intend to
resign, for Mr. Buchanan wished us all to hold on, and go out with him
on the 4th of March.' 'But,' said I, 'does Mr. Buchanan know for what
purpose you are going to North Carolina?' 'Certainly,' he said, 'he
knows my object.'" In the meanwhile, Isaac Toucey, the Secretary of the
Navy, had been prevailed on to put the navy out of reach. The armed
vessels were sent to the ends of the earth. At the critical period,
only two were available to the government. What was going on in
congress? That body was very busy doing nothing. Both senate and house
raised committees for the purpose of devising means of compromise. But
every measure of concession was promptly voted down by the body that
had appointed the committees. In the senate the slave power was in full
control. In the house the slave power was not in majority, but they
enjoyed this advantage that they were able to work together, while the
constituency of the free states were usually divided among themselves.
And in joint session the extreme pro-slavery men were always able to
prevent anything from being accomplished. This was all they wished.
They had sufficient pledges from the President that nothing would be
done before the 4th of March, and it was their belief that by that time
the new power would have so good a start that it could treat with the
United States on equal terms. On January 7, 1861, Senator Yulee, of
Florida, wrote: "By remaining in our places until the 4th of March, it
is thought we can keep the hands of Mr. Buchanan tied, and disable the
republicans from effecting any legislation which will strengthen the
hands of the incoming administration."
On December 14, thirty of the southern senators and representatives had
issued a circular to their constituents. They said that the argument
was exhausted, that all hope of relief was extinguished, that the
republicans would grant nothing satisfactory, and that the honor,
safety, and independence of the Southern people required the
organization of a Southern Confederacy.
South Carolina was the first to act. Six days later that state passed
the ordinance of secession.
Upon this, one of the extreme traitors was forced out of the cabinet.
Floyd, the mischievous Secretary of War, was displaced by Holt, a loyal
man. Floyd, however, had done nearly, if not quite, all the mischief he
could have done. Stanton had already replaced Black as Attorney-General.
The conspirators then held a caucus. It is supposed that this caucus
was held in one of the rooms of the Capitol. At all events it was held
in the city of Washington. It was composed of the extreme southern
congressmen. It decided to recommend immediate secession, the formation
of the Southern Confederacy, and, not least, that the congressmen
should remain in their seats to keep the President's hands tied. The
committee to carry out these plans consisted of Jefferson Davis,
Slidell, and Mallory. By the first day of February, seven states had
passed ordinances of secession.
This is about what was going on during the four months Lincoln was
waiting for the appointed time when he should enter upon his duties. It
was not unlike looking upon a house he was shortly to occupy, and
seeing vandals applying the torch and ax of destruction, while he was
not permitted to go to the rescue, all the while knowing that he would
be held accountable for the preservation of the structure. So Lincoln
saw this work of destruction going on at Washington. It was plain that
the mischief ought to be, and could be, stopped. But Buchanan would not
stop it, and Lincoln was, until March 4th, a private citizen and could
do nothing. The bitterest part of it was that all the burden would fall
on him. As soon as he should become President it would be his duty to
save the government which these men were now openly destroying.
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