The character of no statesman in all the history of the world has been more generally or more completely misunderstood than that of Abraham Lincoln. Many writers describe him as a mere creature of circumstances floating like a piece of driftwood on the current of events; and about the only attribute of statesmanship they concede to him is a sort of instinctive divination of the popular feeling at a given period, and on a given subject. They do not thus dwarf Mr. Lincoln in set phrase or formal propositions, but that is the logic and effect of their narratives. Some of these writers go even further, and represent him as an almost unconscious instrument in the hands of the Almighty,—about as irresponsible as the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night which went before the Israelites through the wilderness.
The truth is, that Mr. Lincoln was at once the ablest and the most adroit politician of modern times. In all the history of the world I can recall no example of a great leader, having to do with a people in any degree free, who himself shaped and guided events to the same extent, unless it was Julius Cæsar. Mr. Lincoln was not the creature of circumstances. Hemadecircumstancesto suit the necessities of his own situation. He was less influenced by the inferior minds around him than was Washington, Jefferson, or Jackson. His policy was invariably formed by his own judgment, and it seldom took even the slightest color from the opinions of others, however decided. In this originality and independence of understanding he resembled somewhat the great William of Orange.
Mr. Lincoln was supposed at the outset of his Administration to have placed himself, as it were, under the tutelage of William H. Seward; and later he was generally believed to have abjectly endured the almost insulting domination of Edwin M. Stanton. But I say without the slightest fear of contradiction, that neither Mr. Seward nor Mr. Stanton, great men as they both were, ever succeeded either in leading or misleading Mr. Lincoln in a single instance. The Administration was not a week old when Mr. Seward had found his level, and the larger purposes, dangerous and revolutionary, with which Mr. Stanton entered the War Department, were baffled and defeated before he had time to fashion the instruments of usurpation. Consciously or unconsciously, Mr. Seward and Mr. Stanton, like others, wrought out the will of the great man who had called them to his side to be appropriately used in furtherance of plans far greater and more comprehensive than they themselves had conceived.
I shall not linger here to present instances of this subordination of high officials and party leaders to Mr.Lincoln; they may be gleaned without number from the published histories of the times. I shall content myself with recounting some of his relations with the illustrious, and at that time powerful, Democratic captain, George B. McClellan.
General McClellan was as bitterly disliked by the politicians of the country as he was cordially loved by the troops under his command. Whatever may be said by the enemies of this unsuccessful general, it must be remembered that he took command of the Army of the Potomac when it was composed of a mass of undisciplined and poorly armed men. Yet after fighting some of the hardest battles of the war, he left it, in less than eighteen months, a splendid military organization, well prepared for the accomplishment of the great achievements afterward attained by General Grant. At the time McClellan took command of that army, the South was powerful in all the elements of successful warfare. It had much changed when General Grant took command. Long strain had greatly weakened and exhausted the forces and resources of the South. There had come a change from the former buoyant bravery of hope to the desperate bravery of doubtful success; and it may well be questioned whether any commander could have crushed the rebellion in the time during which General McClellan was at the head of the army. That he lacked aggressiveness must be admitted by his most ardent admirers. His greatness as a defensive general precluded this quality.[7]
At one time when things seemed at a standstill, and no aggressive movements could be induced by the anxious Washington authorities, Mr. Lincoln went to General McClellan's headquarters to have a talk with him; but for some reason he was unable to get an audience with the general. He returned to the White House much disturbed at his failure to see the commander of the Union forces, and immediately sent for two other general officers, to have a consultation. On their arrival, he told them he must have some one to talk to about the situation; and as he had failed to see General McClellan, he had sent for them to get their views as to the possibility or probability of soon commencing active operations with the Army of the Potomac. He said he desired an expression of their opinion about the matter, for his was, that, if something were not done and done soon, the bottom would fall out of the whole thing; and he intended, if General McClellan did not want to use the Army, to "borrow" it from him, provided he could see how it could be made to do something; for, said he, "If McClellan can't fish, he ought to cut bait at a time like this."
Mr. Lincoln never regarded General McClellan with personal or political jealousy. He never feared him. He once profoundly trusted him, and to the very last he hoped to employ his genius and his popularity in the deliverance of their common country. His unfailing sagacity saw in him a rising general, who should be at once Democratic and patriotic,—the readiest possibleinstrument of harmonizing the North, unifying the sentiment of the army, crushing the rebellion, and restoring the Union. Having, then, no thought of imparting to the war any other object or result than the restoration of the Union, pure and simple, and this being likewise McClellan's view, the harmony and confidence that obtained between them were plants of easy growth. The rise of discord, the political intrigues, Democratic and Republican, which steadily aimed to separate these noble characters, who were as steadily, of their own impulses, tending toward each other,—these are matters of public history. Through it all, Mr. Lincoln earnestly endeavored to support McClellan in the field; and the diversion of men and the failure of supplies were never in any degree due to a desire upon his part to cripple the Democratic general. The success of this Democratic general was the one thing necessary to enable the President to hold in check the aggressive leaders of his own party, to restore the Union with the fewest sacrifices, and to complete the triumph of his Administration without dependence upon interests and factions which he seriously and constantly dreaded.
One of the most striking instances of Mr. Lincoln's great moral courage and self-reliance occurred just after the second battle of Bull Run. The loss of this battle caused great consternation, not only in Washington, but throughout the whole country. Everything was thrown into confusion. All the Cabinet officers, except Secretary Welles and Secretary Seward (the latter beingabsent at the time), signed a protest denouncing the conduct of McClellan and demanding his immediate dismissal from the service,—which protest, however, was not delivered to the President. The feeling of indignation was very general throughout the country against McClellan, and it was greatly intensified by exaggerated reports of his supposed misconduct. Notwithstanding this deplorable state of things, McClellan was appointed in command of the forces at Washington. At a Cabinet meeting held three days after this battle, the members first learned of this appointment. They were thunderstruck at the announcement, and great regret was expressed. Mr. Stanton, with some excitement, remarked that no such order had issued from the War Department. The President then said with great calmness, but with some degree of emphasis, "No, Mr. Secretary, the order was mine; and I will be responsible for it to the country." By way of explanation, he said something had to be done; but there did not appear to be any one to do it, and he therefore took the responsibility on himself. He then continued to say that McClellan had the confidence of the troops beyond any other officer, and could, under the circumstances, more speedily and effectively reorganize them and put them into fighting trim than any other general. "This is what is now wanted most; and these," said the President, "were my reasons for placing him in command."
Mr. Lincoln well knew the danger, and was apprehensiveof losing perhaps all except one of his Cabinet members by this action; but he felt at the same time deeper apprehension of danger to the whole country if the army were not immediately reorganized and fitted for instant action. He knew he could replace his Cabinet from the patriotic men of his acquaintance, but he feared he could not replace the armyin statu quounless he took the risk of losing them. He fully realized, as he said, that nearly all the trouble had grown out of military jealousies, and that it was time for some one to assert and exercise power. He caused personal considerations to be sacrificed for the public good, and in doing so he subdued his own personal feelings in the spirit of unselfish patriotism.[8]
Between Francis P. Blair and Mr. Lincoln there existed from first to last a confidential relationship as close as that maintained by Mr. Lincoln with any other man. To Mr. Blair he almost habitually revealed himself upon delicate and grave subjects more fully than to any other. When he had conceived an important but difficult plan, he was almost certain, before giving it practical form, to try it by the touchstone of Mr. Blair's fertile and acute mind. Mr. Blair understood Mr. Lincoln's conception of the importance of McClellan to the President and to the country, and, like the President himself, he realized that McClellan's usefulness, unless destroyed by some disaster in the field, could be abridged only by some needless misunderstanding between the two. He knew the stubborn spirit of theDemocratic party from long experience in it and with it; and he early foresaw the tremendous influence which would inevitably be brought to bear on McClellan to separate him from Lincoln. It was because he foresaw this that he desired to place nearest to General McClellan in the field some one who, having the complete confidence of both, would form a connecting link which could not be broken.
To this end, about the time General Pleasanton was appointed brigadier-general, and assigned to report to General McClellan, Mr. Blair sought a conference with him and said: "You are going to McClellan. You will have confidential relations with him. I like him, and I want him to succeed; but no general can succeed without proper relations with the Administration. Say to him from me that Frank P. Blair, Jr., can be of great service to him. I shall have access to the Administration, and can do much to keep McClellan right. Say to him that he ought to ask for the assignment of Blair to him, and to make him his chief of staff. Now, Pleasanton, when you get down in Virginia, say this to Mac, and telegraph me the result."
It was then agreed that the communication should be in cipher. If favorable, "The weather is fair;" if otherwise, "The weather is fair, but portends a storm." Mr. Blair's message was given to McClellan, and General Pleasanton saw that it made an impression; but General McClellan faltered, subject, no doubt, to some of the influences that Mr. Blair had foreseen. Afterthree days' deliberation, the "bad weather" was indicated to Mr. Blair.
In the campaign for Presidential honors in 1864, General McClellan, in his letter of acceptance, repudiated the obvious meaning of the Democratic platform framed for his candidacy. The Convention demanded "a cessation of hostilities with a view of an ultimate convention of States." To this McClellan responded: "So soon as it is clear, or even probable, that our present adversaries are ready for peace on the basis of the Union, we should exhaust all the resources of statesmanship ... to secure such a peace." In this he stood precisely with Lincoln. The sentiments of the representatives of the Democratic party in Convention assembled seemed to be: Peace first, and Union would inevitably follow. The sentiments of the respective chosen party standard-bearers were: Union first, that peace might follow.
There was at no time during the campaign a reasonable doubt of the election of Mr. Lincoln over General McClellan. Early in this campaign, on going into Mr. Lincoln's office one night, I found him in a more gleeful humor than usual. He was alone, and said, "I am glad you have come in. Lamon, do you know that 'we have met the enemy, and they areourn?' I think the cabal of obstructionists 'am busted!' I feel certain that if I live, I am going to be re-elected. Whether I deserve to be or not, it is not for me to say; but on the score even of remunerative chances for speculative service, I now am inspired with the hope that our disturbed countryfurther requires the valuable services of your humble servant. 'Jordan has been a hard road to travel,' but I feel now that, notwithstanding the enemies I have made and the faults I have committed, I'll bedumpedon the right side of that stream. I hope, however, that I may never have another four years of such anxiety, tribulation, and abuse. My only ambition is and has been to put down the rebellion and restore peace; after which I want to resign my office, go abroad, take some rest, study foreign governments, see something of foreign life, and in my old age die in peace with the good will of all of God's creatures."
About two weeks before the election, Mr. Lincoln began to consider how to make the result most decisive. He again recurred to McClellan, and again consulted Mr. Blair. It seemed that neither of these sagacious men could entirely free himself from the thought that in one way or another General McClellan, with the Democratic party at his back, was somehow to contribute a mighty blow toward the suppression of the rebellion and the pacification of the country. With the respect which they both entertained for General McClellan's intelligence, with the faith they both had in his patriotism, they did not doubt that, seeing as they did the utter impossibility of his own election to the Presidency, he would be willing, if the way were graciously opened to him, to save his party from the humiliation of a crushing defeat, to use his remaining power to restore the Union without further unnecessary bloodshed, and to tranquilizethe country without more needless and heedless political strife.
Mr. Lincoln said to Mr. Blair: "I shall be re-elected. No one can doubt it. I do not doubt it, nor do you. It is patent to all. General McClellan must see it as plainly as we do. Why should he not act upon it, and help me to give peace to this distracted country? Would it not be a glorious thing for the Union cause and the country, now that my re-election is certain, for him to decline to run, favor my election, and make certain a speedy termination of this bloody war? Don't you believe that such a course upon his part would unify public partisan sentiment, and give a decisive and fatal blow to all opposition to the re-establishment of peace in the country? I think he is man enough and patriot enough to do it. Do you? You have been his friend and mine. Will you try this last appeal to General McClellan's patriotism?"
Mr. Blair heartily assented; and, as the result of their consultation, Mr. Lincoln wrote a most remarkable autograph letter to his rival, suggesting that he retire from the canvass and allow Mr. Lincoln's election, then visibly impending, to be as nearly unanimous as might be. The compensations to General McClellan and his party for the timely relinquishment of a mere shadow were to be McClellan's immediate elevation to be General of the Army, the appointment of his father-in-law, Marcy, to be major-general, and the very substantial recognition of the Democracy which would necessarily have followed these arrangements.
This letter containing these distinct propositions was placed in Mr. Blair's hands, and by him delivered to General McClellan.[9]It was the attempted stroke of a master. Had it succeeded,—had the propositions contained in the letter been accepted,—Mr. Lincoln might have lived to prevent the follies and the crimes of reconstruction, and to bless his country with an era of peace and good-will,—thus preventing those long years of ferocious political contention over the results of the war which followed its conclusion and his murder.
What the great soldier might have done, if left alone to determine for himself the proper course of action in the premises, can never be known.
The letter was submitted by General McClellan to some of his party friends in New York, and its wise and statesmanlike propositions were declined. On the morning of the election he resigned his commission. His party was routed, and upon the death of Mr. Lincoln was opened the new Iliad of partisan conflict and reconstruction woes.
Mr. Lincoln fearlessly struck out and boldly pursued, in situations the most exacting, capital plans, of which none knew except those who might be absolutely necessary to their execution. If he failed in the patriotic objects which he proposed to accomplish by coalition with McClellan, and was ultimately compelled to achieve them by less Napoleonic and more tedious methods, the splendid conception and the daring attempt were his alone, and prove him one of the most masterful politiciansof this or any recent age. The division of the Roman world between the members of the Triumvirate was not comparable to this proposal of his, because the Roman was a smaller world than the American, and it was partitioned among three, while this was only to be halved.
More than a quarter of a century has passed, and still the press teems with inquiries concerning the relations between Lincoln and McClellan, with accusation and defense by the literary partisans of each. Had the general seen fit to respond to the magnanimous tender of the President, their names would have been equally sacred in every American household, and their fame would have been united, like their parties and their country, by an act of patriotic statesmanship unparalleled in the history of this world.
Mr. Lincoln regarded all public offices within his gift as a sacred trust, to be administered solely for the people, and as in no sense a fund upon which he could draw for the payment of private accounts. He was exempt from the frailties common to most men, and he cast aside the remembrance of all provocations for which he had cause to nourish resentment. Here is a notable instance: A rather distinguished man had been for years a respected acquaintance; his son, who was in the army, was convicted of a grave offence, the penalty of which might have been death. Lincoln, at the solicitation of the father, pardoned the son. Time passed on until the political campaign of 1864, when a secret military organization was formed in the State of Illinois to oppose the re-election of Lincoln, and that father was at the head of this secret organization. Some time after the election, the filling of an important bureau office in the Treasury Department was under advisement. Among the applicants was an old acquaintance of Mr. Lincoln, who was strongly recommended by his friends. After a pause, Mr. Lincolnthoughtfully said, "Well, gentlemen, whatever you may think, I never thought Mr. —— had any more than an average amount of ability when we were young men together,—I really didn't;" and then, after a short silence, he added: "But this is a matter of opinion, and I suppose he thought just the same about me; he had reason to, and—here I am! I guess we shall have to give him some good place, but not this one. This position requires a man of peculiar ability to fill it. I have been thinking seriously of giving it to a man who does not like me very well, and who sought to defeat my renomination. I can't afford to take notice of and punish every person who has seen fit to oppose my election. We want a competent man for this place. I know of no one who could perform the duties of this most responsible office better than ——," calling him by name. And this ingrate father got the appointment!
At another time there was an interview at the White House between a prominent politician of New York and Mr. Lincoln, in reference to the removal of an office-holder in New York. Every reason that could be thought of was urged in favor of the removal, and finally it was urged that this office-holder abused Mr. Lincoln personally. Mr. Lincoln at last got out of patience, and ended the interview as follows: "You cannot think —— to be half as mean to me as Iknowhim to be; but I cannot run this thing upon the theory that every office-holder must think I am the greatest man in the nation, and I will not." The man named, notwithstanding hismeanness to Mr. Lincoln, remained in office as long as Mr. Lincoln was President.
So much of Mr. Lincoln's time was taken up with questions of office-seeking and office-holding, when he felt every moment should be devoted to plans to avert the perils then threatening the country, that he once compared himself to "a man so busy in letting rooms in one end of his house that he cannot stop to put out the fire that is burning the other."
Mr. Lincoln was an ambitious man, but he desired power less for the sake of prestige or authority than for the opportunities it presented of being useful and beneficent in its exercise. Eagerly as he sought the approval of his fellow-citizens where this could be attained without the sacrifice of principle, he was always generous in according to others whatever would lead to public approval. Immediately after the battle of Gettysburg, Mr. Lincoln sat down and wrote a peremptory order to General Meade to intercept Lee in his retreat, give him battle, and by this bold stroke crush the rebel army and end the rebellion. The order was accompanied by a friendly note, in which the great patriot said to Meade: "The order I inclose is not of record. If you succeed, you need not publish the order. If you fail, publish it. Then if you succeed, you will have all the credit of the movement. If not, I'll take the responsibility."
The manifestation of popular admiration and esteem as the people's choice for the highest position within their gift, Mr. Lincoln most highly valued, while his self-relianceand hisamour propreled him at times to look upon favors bestowed upon him as a matter of personal right, as a consideration due to himself individually. With all this, his love of country was his paramount incentive. There was no period in the progress of the war at which he would not willingly have laid down his life, if by so doing he could have averted further bloodshed, and remanded his fellow-countrymen to the enjoyment of a restored tranquillity and renewed brotherhood. One instance in which this sentiment led him to propose an extraordinary act of self-immolation is deserving of special mention.
Mr. Lincoln ardently desired, on the return of peace, to exercise his functions as Chief Magistrate of a reunited country. This, with the reconstruction of the general government, was the darling aspiration of his heart, the dearest heritage which the advent of peace could bestow. But he subjected this ambition to the promptings of a Roman patriotism, and proposed upon certain conditions a frank, full, and honest renunciation of all claims to the Presidency for a second term; and in declining, under any circumstances, to be a candidate for re-election, he would cordially throw his entire influence, in so far as he could control it, in behalf of Horatio Seymour, then governor of New York, for President. The conditions were substantially as follows: Governor Seymour was to withdraw his opposition to the draft, use his authority and influence as governor in putting down the riots in New York, and co-operate in all reasonableways with the Administration in the suppression of the Southern rebellion. This proposition was to be made through Mr. Thurlow Weed.
It so happened that at this time Mr. Weed was dissatisfied with the President for something he had either done or omitted to do, and had on several occasions refused to come to Washington when his presence was earnestly desired there. He must now be seen and advised with; he must personally effect the negotiation, for he could accomplish it more successfully than any other man. How to induce him to come to Washington was the question to be solved. "The tinkling of Mr. Seward's little bell" had struck terror to the souls of evil-doers in the North, and all his dispatches over the wires were narrowly watched. It was inexpedient for him to use telegraphic facilities of communication except upon the most commonplace subjects, since everything emanating from him was eagerly scanned and devoured by thequid nuncsthroughout the country. A special messenger was therefore decided on, for affairs were now in a precarious condition, and daily, hourly growing worse, and time was important. The messenger started immediately for New York, but was recalled before reaching the train. He was thereupon directed to telegraph in his own name to Mr. Weed, and that gentleman arrived in Washington by the next succeeding train. After a lengthy interview with the President and Mr. Seward, Mr. Weed telegraphed to Governor Seymour requesting him to come to Washington on business ofurgent importance. This the governor declined to do, adding, in his reply, that the distance to and from Washington and Albany was precisely the same, and that if they wanted to confer with him, to come to Albany, where he would be glad to meet them. Mr. Weed, upon this, left for that city, and after making a very brief stay there, returned to Washington and reported "Proposition declined."
This answer was not expected by Mr. Lincoln, especially in time of civil war, and from the governor of the great and influential State of New York; and it was with sincere and manifest chagrin that the President saw himself deterred from making the magnanimous self-sacrifice proposed.
Nothing that affected the interests of the government escaped Mr. Lincoln's vigilant thought and careful consideration. I recollect that on one occasion, just after the greenback currency got under full headway of circulation, I was in his office when the conversation turned on the condition of our finances, and on the greenback as a representative of money. He was in high spirits that day, and seemed to feel happier than I had seen him for a long time. I casually asked him if he knew how our currency was made.
"Yes," said he; "I think it is about—as the lawyers would say—in the following manner, to wit: the engraver strikes off the sheets, passes them over to the Register of the currency, who places his earmarks upon them, signs them, hands them over to Father Spinner,who then places his wonderful signature at the bottom, and turns them over to Mr. Chase, who, as Secretary of the United States Treasury, issues them to the public as money,—and may the good Lord help any fellow that doesn't take all he can honestly get of them!" Taking from his pocket a five dollar greenback, with a twinkle of his eye, he said: "Look at Spinner's signature! Was there ever anything like it on earth? Yet it is unmistakable; no one will ever be able to counterfeit it!"[J]
"But," I said, "you certainly don't suppose that Spinner actually wrote his name on that bill, do you?"
"Certainly I do; why not?"
I then asked, "How much of this currency have we afloat?"
He remained thoughtful for a moment, and then stated the amount.
I continued: "How many times do you think a man can write a signature like Spinner's in the course of twenty-four hours?"
The beam of hilarity left his countenance at once. He put the greenback into his vest pocket, and walked the floor; after awhile he stopped, heaved a long breath and said, "This thing frightens me!" He then rang for a messenger, and told him to ask the Secretary of the Treasury to please come over to see him. Mr. Chase soon put in an appearance. Mr. Lincoln stated the cause of his alarm, and asked Mr. Chase to explain in detail themodus operandi, the system of checks inhis office, etc., and a lengthy discussion followed,—Lincoln contending that there were not sufficient checks to afford any degree of safety in the money-making department, and Mr. Chase insisting that all the guards for protection were afforded that he could devise. "In the nature of things," he said, "somebody must be trusted in this emergency. You have entrusted me, and Mr. Spinner is entrusted with untold millions, and we have to trust our subordinates." Words waxed warmer than I had ever known them to do between these distinguished gentlemen, when Mr. Lincoln feelingly apologized by saying,—
"Don't think that I am doubting or could doubt your integrity, or that of Mr. Spinner; nor am I finding fault with either of you; but it strikes me that this thing is all wrong, and dangerous. I and the country know you and Mr. Spinner, but we don't know your subordinates, who are great factors in making this money, and have the power to bankrupt the government in an hour. Yet there seems to be no protection against a duplicate issue of every bill struck, and I can see no way of detecting duplicity until we come to redeem the currency; and even then, the duplicate cannot be told from the original."
The result of this conversation was, that Lincoln became so impressed with danger from this source that he called the attention of Congress to the matter, and a joint committee was appointed. Senator Sprague of Rhode Island was its chairman; but the result of theinvestigation, like many others during the war, was never made public to my knowledge. Considering the crippled financial condition of our country, and the importance of first-class credit abroad during our war, as little publicity on the subject as possible was doubtless the best for us politically.
Aproposof greenbacks, Don Piatt gave a description in the "North American Review," a few years ago, of the first proposition to Mr. Lincoln to issue interest-bearing notes as currency, which was as follows:—
"Amasa Walker, a distinguished financier of New England, suggested that notes issued directly from the government to the people, as currency, should bear interest. This for the purpose, not only of making the notes popular, but for the purpose of preventing inflation, by inducing people to hoard the notes as an investment when the demands of trade would fail to call them into circulation as a currency."This idea struck David Taylor, of Ohio, with such force that he sought Mr. Lincoln and urged him to put the project into immediate execution. The President listened patiently, and at the end said, 'That is a good idea, Taylor; but you must go to Chase. He is running that end of the machine, and has time to consider your proposition.' Taylor sought the Secretary of the Treasury, and laid before him Amasa Walker's plan. Chase heard him through in a cold, unpleasant manner, and then said: 'That is all very well, Mr. Taylor; but there is one little obstacle in the way that makes the plan impracticable, and that is the Constitution.' Saying this, he turned to his desk, as if dismissing both Mr. Taylor and his proposition at the same moment."The poor enthusiast felt rebuked and humiliated. He returned to the President, however, and reported his defeat.Mr. Lincoln looked at the would-be financier with the expression at times so peculiar to his homely face, that left one in doubt whether he was jesting or in earnest. 'Taylor!' he exclaimed, 'go back to Chase and tell him not to bother himself about the Constitution. Say that I have that sacred instrument here at the White House, and I am guarding it with great care.' Taylor demurred to this, on the ground that Mr. Chase showed by his manner that he knew all about it, and didn't wish to be bored by any suggestion. 'We'll see about that,' said the President, and taking a card from the table he wrote upon it, 'The Secretary of the Treasury will please consider Mr. Taylor's proposition. We must have money, and I think this a good way to get it.—A. Lincoln.'"Armed with this, the real father of the greenbacks again sought the Secretary. He was received more politely than before, but was cut short in his advocacy of the measure by a proposition for both of them to see the President. They did so, and Mr. Chase made a long and elaborate constitutional argument against the proposed measure."'Chase,' said Mr. Lincoln, after the Secretary had concluded, 'down in Illinois I was held to be a pretty good lawyer, and I believe I could answer every point you have made; but I don't feel called upon to do it.... These rebels are violating the Constitution to destroy the Union; I will violate the Constitution, if necessary, to save the Union: and I suspect, Chase, that our Constitution is going to have a rough time of it before we get done with this row. Now, what I want to know is, whether, Constitution aside, this project of issuing interest-bearing notes is a good one?'"'I must say,' responded Mr. Chase, 'that, with the exception you make, it is not only a good one, but the only one open to us to raise money. If you say so, I will do my best to put it into immediate and practical operation, and you will never hear from me any opposition on this subject.'"[10]
"Amasa Walker, a distinguished financier of New England, suggested that notes issued directly from the government to the people, as currency, should bear interest. This for the purpose, not only of making the notes popular, but for the purpose of preventing inflation, by inducing people to hoard the notes as an investment when the demands of trade would fail to call them into circulation as a currency.
"This idea struck David Taylor, of Ohio, with such force that he sought Mr. Lincoln and urged him to put the project into immediate execution. The President listened patiently, and at the end said, 'That is a good idea, Taylor; but you must go to Chase. He is running that end of the machine, and has time to consider your proposition.' Taylor sought the Secretary of the Treasury, and laid before him Amasa Walker's plan. Chase heard him through in a cold, unpleasant manner, and then said: 'That is all very well, Mr. Taylor; but there is one little obstacle in the way that makes the plan impracticable, and that is the Constitution.' Saying this, he turned to his desk, as if dismissing both Mr. Taylor and his proposition at the same moment.
"The poor enthusiast felt rebuked and humiliated. He returned to the President, however, and reported his defeat.Mr. Lincoln looked at the would-be financier with the expression at times so peculiar to his homely face, that left one in doubt whether he was jesting or in earnest. 'Taylor!' he exclaimed, 'go back to Chase and tell him not to bother himself about the Constitution. Say that I have that sacred instrument here at the White House, and I am guarding it with great care.' Taylor demurred to this, on the ground that Mr. Chase showed by his manner that he knew all about it, and didn't wish to be bored by any suggestion. 'We'll see about that,' said the President, and taking a card from the table he wrote upon it, 'The Secretary of the Treasury will please consider Mr. Taylor's proposition. We must have money, and I think this a good way to get it.—A. Lincoln.'
"Armed with this, the real father of the greenbacks again sought the Secretary. He was received more politely than before, but was cut short in his advocacy of the measure by a proposition for both of them to see the President. They did so, and Mr. Chase made a long and elaborate constitutional argument against the proposed measure.
"'Chase,' said Mr. Lincoln, after the Secretary had concluded, 'down in Illinois I was held to be a pretty good lawyer, and I believe I could answer every point you have made; but I don't feel called upon to do it.... These rebels are violating the Constitution to destroy the Union; I will violate the Constitution, if necessary, to save the Union: and I suspect, Chase, that our Constitution is going to have a rough time of it before we get done with this row. Now, what I want to know is, whether, Constitution aside, this project of issuing interest-bearing notes is a good one?'
"'I must say,' responded Mr. Chase, 'that, with the exception you make, it is not only a good one, but the only one open to us to raise money. If you say so, I will do my best to put it into immediate and practical operation, and you will never hear from me any opposition on this subject.'"[10]
Mr. Lincoln acquired the name of "honest Abe Lincoln" by a kind of honesty much higher than that which restrains a man from the appropriation of his neighbor's goods. He did not feel at liberty to take every case that was offered him. He was once overheard saying to a man who was consulting him and earnestly urging his legal rights, "Yes, I can gain your suit. I can set a neighborhood at loggerheads. I can distress a widowed mother and six fatherless children, and get for you six hundred dollars, to which, for all I can see, she has as good a right as you have. But I will not do so. There are some legal rights which are moral wrongs."
Mr. Lincoln at no time in his life could tolerate anything like persecution; his whole nature appeared to rebel against any appearance of such a thing, and he never failed to act in the promptest manner when any such case was brought to his attention. One of the most celebrated cases ever tried by any court-martial during the war was that of Franklin W. Smith and his brother, charged with defrauding the government. These men bore a high character for integrity. At this time, however, courts-martial were seldom invoked for any other purpose than to convict the accused, regardless of the facts in the case, and the Smiths shared the usual fate of persons whose charges were submitted to such an arbitrament. They had been kept in prison, their papers seized, their business destroyed, and their reputation ruined, all which was followed by a conviction. After the judgmentof the court, the matter was submitted to the President for his approval. The case was such a remarkable one, and was regarded as so monstrous in its unjust and unwarrantable conclusion, that Mr. Lincoln, after a full and careful investigation of it, annulled the whole proceeding. It is very remarkable that the record of the President's decision could never be found afterward in the Navy Department. No exact copy can be obtained of it. Some one in the office, however, familiar with the tenor and effect of it, furnished its wording as nearly as possible. The following embraces the sentiment, if not the exact words, of that remarkable document:—
"WHEREAS, Franklin W. Smith had transactions with the Navy Department to the amount of a million and a quarter of dollars; andWhereas, he had a chance to steal at least a quarter of a million and was only charged with stealing twenty-two hundred dollars, and the question now is about his stealing one hundred, I don't believe he stole anything at all.Therefore, the record and the findings are disapproved, declared null and void, and the defendants are fully discharged."
"WHEREAS, Franklin W. Smith had transactions with the Navy Department to the amount of a million and a quarter of dollars; andWhereas, he had a chance to steal at least a quarter of a million and was only charged with stealing twenty-two hundred dollars, and the question now is about his stealing one hundred, I don't believe he stole anything at all.Therefore, the record and the findings are disapproved, declared null and void, and the defendants are fully discharged."
In 1862 Senator Sherman had prepared a very elaborate speech in which he devoted a good portion of it to prove that Mr. Lincoln was a failure and unless something was soon done by Congress, the war would be a failure. Someone told Mr. Lincoln that Senator Sherman intended to make such a speech. Lincoln said: "Well Sherman is a patriot and a statesman and is thoroughly for the Union; perhaps his opinion of me may bejust. It may do good. I would not have him change a word." Lincoln's remarks that night were repeated to Sherman and they made such an impression on him that he omitted from his speech the criticism on Lincoln.
Colonel J. W. Forney relates a characteristic incident of Mr. Lincoln's generosity to an adversary. He says that one afternoon in February or March of 1865, he was startled by a visit from his old friend Washington McLean of the Cincinnati "Inquirer." "I have called," Mr. McLean said, "to ask you to do me a favor I shall never forget, and you must do it. I will not take no for an answer. You, and you alone can serve me."
"Well, old friend," said Colonel Forney, "you know I will serve you if I can; what is it?" "Now don't be alarmed when I tell you that Roger A. Pryor is in Fort Lafayette, having been captured within our lines, and that I want you to get him out."
"Roger A. Pryor, of Petersburg; Roger A. Pryor, who fired on Sumter; Roger A. Prior, the hot-spur of Congress?"
"Yes, and your old coadjutor of the Washington Union when you were both Democrats together. He went into the Rebellion, is now a prisoner, and I appeal to you to go with me to the President and ask his release." As there was no denying his impetuous friend, Colonel Forney got into his carriage and they were soon at the White House. Mr. McLean was introduced and it was soon found that Mr. Lincoln knew all about him and his paper. He told his story, which was patiently heard. ColonelForney followed with a statement of his former relations with Mr. Pryor, and said that he thought an act of liberality to such a man, and on a request from a frank political opponent like Washington McLean would be worthy of the head of a great nation.
"Let me see," said Mr. Lincoln, as he fixed his spectacles and turned to a little drawer in the desk behind him, "I think I have a memorandum here that refers to some good thing done by General Pryor to a party of our Pennsylvania boys who were taken prisoners in an attack upon the Petersburg fortifications." And with that he took out from a small package a statement signed by the men who had enjoyed the hospitality of General Pryor on the occasion referred to.
He had, it appears, given them food from his larder at a time when his own family were in a most desperate condition for provisions. "The man who can do such kindness to an enemy," said the President, "cannot be cruel and revengeful;" then he wrote some lines on a card which he handed to Mr. McLean with the remark: "I think that will do; at any rate it is all that I can give you," and they took their leave. Going down stairs they looked with amazement at the writing on the card, which read thus: "To Colonel Burke, Commanding at Fort Lafayette, New York. Please release General Roger A. Pryor, who will report to Colonel Forney on Capitol Hill. A. Lincoln." "Report to Colonel Forney!" Colonel Forney who was "bubbling over with resentment against the Southern leaders who had hindered his advancement whenBuchanan was elected President." But there was no changing the order, so Mr. McLean dashed off in the next train to New York, the happiest Democrat in the United States, and two days after he walked into Colonel Forney's office with the "prisoner." General Pryor took the upper rooms of Colonel Forney's lodgings and was his guest for more than a week, "during which time he was visited by all the chivalry, male and female, of the vicinage." The President enjoyed the fact that Colonel Forney had such good company, and Thaddeus Stephens, his neighbor, habitually accosted him in the morning with the grim salute: "How's your Democratic friend and brother this morning?" Colonel Forney had to admit that a more courteous gentleman he had never met than General Pryor, and did him the justice to say that he expressed the most fervent gratitude to Mr. Lincoln for his kindness.
In November, 1861, the public mind was wildly agitated by an episode of the war, which, although without military significance, at one time threatened to predetermine the final issue of the contest in favor of the independence of the Southern States, by the accession of a powerful ally and auxiliary to their cause. It not only seriously imperilled our existing relations of peace and amity with a foreign power, but came near converting its declared neutrality into an active sympathy and co-operation with the Confederacy. This incident, commonly known as the "Trent" affair, originated in the unauthorized and illegal arrest of the Confederate Commissioners, Messrs. Mason and Slidell, with their secretaries, on board a British mail packet, by Capt. Charles Wilkes of the United States Navy, and their forcible transfer from the protection of the British flag to the frigate "San Jacinto," under Wilkes's command.
This arbitrary proceeding, wholly unauthorized by the government and in flagrant violation of every principle of public law, was received with a universal outburst of joy and exultation throughout the entire country. The Confederates saw in this wanton aggression and outragethe realization of their cherished hopes of an imbroglio—possibly of a war—between England and the United States. The satisfaction evinced in the Northern States seemed less comprehensible, as the first outgoing blockade-runner could easily have supplied substitutes for the captured and imprisoned Commissioners. Yet for this act, which was acclaimed and sanctioned by a verdict of popular approval, indorsed by a special resolution of thanks in the National Legislature, Captain Wilkes was commended and congratulated in a letter from the chief of his Department. In fact, every one seemed to vie with every one else in weaving a civic chaplet to the commander of the "San Jacinto" for his lawless deed.
Amidst the wild excitement created by this international interlude, the President alone maintained an imperturbable calmness and composure. From the very first moment he regarded the capture of the Commissioners as unwise and inexpedient. He was heard to say repeatedly that it would lead to dangerous complications with England. "Unfortunately," said he, "we have played into the hands of that wily power, and placed in their grasp a whip with which to scourge us." He went on to say further that the "Trent" affair had occurred at the most inopportune and critical period of the war, and would greatly tend to its prolongation by creating a genuine bond of sympathy between England and the insurgent States.
When interrogated, on one occasion, as to whether it was not a great humiliation to him to surrender thecaptured Commissioners on the peremptory demand of John Bull, Mr. Lincoln replied, "Yes, it was the bitterest pill I have ever swallowed. There is, however, this counterbalancing consideration, that England's triumph will not have a long tenure of life. After our war is over, I trust and believe successfully to ourselves, we shall be powerful enough to call her to an account and settlement for the embarrassment and damage she has inflicted upon us in our hour of trouble; and this reminds me of a story which I think aptly illustrates the condition of things existing between their government and ours." He then related the following anecdote:
A sick man in Illinois, the hope of whose recovery was far from encouraging, was admonished by his friends present that as probably he had not many hours to live he should bear malice to none, and before closing his earthly account should make peace with all his enemies. Turning his face to the wall and drawing a long sigh, the invalid was lost for a few moments in deep reflection. Giving utterance to a deep groan as he mentally enumerated the long catalogue of enmities incurred, which would render the exertion of peace-making a somewhat prolonged one, he admitted in a feeble voice that he undoubtedly believed this to be the best course, and added: "The man whom I hate most cordially of all is Bill Johnson, and so I guess I'll begin with him." Johnson was summoned, and at once repaired to the bedside of his repentant friend. The latter extended to him his hand, saying with a meekness that would havedone honor to Moses, that he wanted to die at peace with all the world, and to bury all his past enmity. Bill, who was much inclined to the melting mood, here burst into tears, making free use of his bandanna, and warmly returning the pressure of the dying man's hand, solemnly and impressively assured him of his forgiveness. As the now reconciled friends were about to separate, in the expectation of never again seeing each other on earth, "Stop," exclaimed the penitent invalid to his departing visitor, who had now reached the door; "the account is now square between us, Bill Johnson; but, see here, if Ishouldhappen to get well, that old grudge stands!"
In December, about one month after the arrest of the Confederate Commissioners, when Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet were in a state of alarm, fearing a war with England, Mr. Chase one day came to the President and told him that Mr. Stanton, who had been attorney-general under Buchanan, had talked with him on the subject of this trouble with Great Britain, and had expressed the opinion that the action of the American government in arresting Mason and Slidell was legal and could be sustained by international law. The President told Mr. Chase that Stanton did not like him, and had treated him rudely on one occasion; but that if Mr. Chase thought Stanton would meet him, he would be glad to have him do so and give his views on the subject. In an hour Mr. Chase had Stanton in Mr. Lincoln's presence. Mr. Lincoln expressed his gratification at hearing of Mr. Stanton's views, and asked him to repeatthem. When Mr. Stanton had finished the discussion of the case, and of the laws bearing thereon, Mr. Lincoln expressed his thanks, and asked Stanton to put his opinion in writing, which he promised to do by ten o'clock the next morning. The opinion was brought at the appointed time. Mr. Lincoln read it and filed it, and then said: "Mr. Stanton, this is a time of war, and you are as much interested in sustaining the government as myself or any other man. This is no time to consider mere party issues. The life of the nation is in danger. I need the best counsellors around me. I have every confidence in your judgment, and have concluded to ask you to become one of my counsellors. The office of the Secretary of War will be vacant, and I want you to accept the position. Will you do it?"
Stanton was amazed, and said: "Why, Mr. President, you take me by surprise! This is an embarrassing question, but if you will give me a day or two to consider, I will give you an answer." Two days later he called on the President and signified his intention to accept. On the 15th day of January, 1862, the portfolio of Secretaryof War was placed in his hands.[K]
The appointment of Mr. Stanton in Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet was a great surprise to the country. Thosewho were acquainted with the relations existing between these two men when they were both practising lawyerswere not only astonished at this appointment, but were apprehensive that there could not possibly be harmonyof action and co-operation between them. There were perhaps seldom, if ever, two really great men who were as unlike in all respects as Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Stanton. They were dissimilar in their habits of life, disposition, taste, in fact in every particular of the general make-up of man. But Mr. Lincoln fully appreciated Mr. Stanton's great ability, both as a lawyer and as a Cabinet counsellor under Mr. Buchanan. The President needed the ablest counsel he could obtain, and allowed no personal consideration to influence him in selecting the right man for the service.
In order to make the history of this appointment complete in its personal element, it will be necessary to go back to the year 1858, when Abraham Lincoln was practising law in Springfield, Illinois, and Edwin M. Stanton was at the head of his profession in Cincinnati. The celebrated McCormick Reaper and Mower case was before the United States Court in Cincinnati. Mr. Stanton had been retained as counsel-in-chief on one side of the case, and to be associated with him were T. D. Lincoln of Cincinnati, and Abraham Lincoln of Illinois. When Mr. Lincoln arrived in Cincinnati to attend the trial, he called upon Mr. Stanton, who treated him in so impolite and rude a manner that he went to his client and informed him that he should have to withdraw as his counsel in the case and stated his reasons therefor. Mr. Lincoln was entreated to remain in the case, and Mr. Stanton was seen and was talked to about the matter. Mr. Lincoln happened to be in a room adjoining where this conversation occurred, and overheard Mr. Stanton say that he would not associate with such a d——, gawky, long-armed ape as that; if he could not have a man who was a gentleman in appearance associated with him in the case, he would himself abandon it. When the client returned, Mr. Lincoln refunded to him the five-hundred dollar retainer fee, peremptorily declining to keep it. He then returned to Urbana, Illinois, where court was in session, and, to explain his unexpected return, related the fact and his mortification to his associate membersof the bar. After this event, Mr. Lincoln never met Mr. Stanton until the "Trent" affair brought them together; yet it is certain that Mr. Lincoln never forgot the gratuitous insult then cast upon him.
To this day there is a settled belief that at this time the Administration councils manifested a lack of hearty co-operation and unity of purpose and sentiment. This is a mistake, for throughout Mr. Lincoln's Administration as much harmony as could reasonably be expected existed between him and his Cabinet ministers. Differences arose between them at times in regard to minor considerations of policy, but never to the extent that the differences were not eventually harmonized, compromised, or accommodated. To be sure, many things occurred during the fearful war-struggle about which he and his Cabinet differed in their estimates and conclusions, and Mr. Lincoln thereby was often disappointed and grieved. As one instance of his disappointment, may be mentioned his abandonment of a message to Congress in deference to the opinion and counsel of his advisers. This occurred directly after his return from the conference he and Mr. Seward had with Messrs. Stephens, Campbell, and Hunter at City Point on the James River.
Notwithstanding his hatred of the institution of slavery, Mr. Lincoln believed that the holder of slaves had a right of property in them which the government had no right, legally or morally, to interfere with in the States unless forced thereto by the necessities of war. Hegladly approved the action of Congress in providing for the payment of compensation for the slaves liberated in the District of Columbia. The message above referred to recommended an appropriation of three hundred million dollars to be apportioned among the several slave States, in proportion to slave population, as compensation to the owners of liberated slaves in the insurgent States, with the condition that the insurgents should lay down their arms, disband their troops, and return and renew their allegiance to the United States government. Mr. Seward at this time was not present, being confined to bed by injuries he had received by being thrown from his carriage. All the other members of the Cabinet were present, every one of whom opposed the message. Lincoln then asked: "How long will this war last?" No reply came. He then answered his own question, saying: "It will doubtless last one hundred days longer; we are now spending three million dollars a day, which rate will aggregate the amount I propose to appropriate in order to put an end to this terrible blood-shedding." Then with a deep sigh he said, "Since you are all opposed to me I will not send this message," and turning round he placed the paper in his drawer. It is rather a curious coincidence that the war did last just about a hundred days after Lincoln's remarkable interview with his Cabinet on this subject.
There is also a prevailing opinion that the Secretary of War (Stanton) at times arbitrarily refused to obey or carry out Mr. Lincoln's orders. This is also not true.This opinion is largely based upon Mr. Stanton's refusal of permits to persons desirous of going through the lines into insurgent districts. The persons who were disobliged in this respect were very severe in their comments on Mr. Stanton's course, which they considered harsh, disobliging, and sometimes cruel. On refusal of Mr. Stanton to accommodate in many such cases, Mr. Lincoln was appealed to, and his invariable reply was: "I cannot always know whether a permit ought to be granted, and I want to oblige everybody when I can; and Stanton and I have an understanding that if I send an order to him which cannot be consistently granted, he is to refuse it. This he sometimes does." This state of things caused him to say to a man who complained of Stanton, "I have not much influence with this Administration, but I expect to have more with the next."
Not long before the death of Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Stanton tendered his resignation as Secretary of War. His letter of resignation was couched in the kindest language, paying a heartfelt tribute to Mr. Lincoln's uniform and constant friendship, and his faithful devotion to the country. It stated that the writer had accepted the position of Secretary of War for the purpose of holding it only till the war should end, and that now he felt that his work was completed, and that it was his duty to resign. Mr. Lincoln was greatly moved by the tone of the letter, and said: "Mr. Stanton, you have been a faithful public officer, and it is not for you to say when you will be no longer needed here." At the President'searnest solicitation, the letter of resignation was withdrawn, and Mr. Stanton continued to occupy the War Office until after Mr. Lincoln's death.
When Mr. Lincoln submitted his Proclamation of Emancipation for the consideration of the Cabinet, he had not conferred with any one about the phraseology of the instrument. He read the document through, without a single interruption or comment. They all concurred in opinion that it was an admirable paper. Mr. Chase then said: "Mr. President, you have invoked the considerate judgment of mankind, but you have not invoked the blessing of Almighty God on your action in this matter. I believe He has something to do with this question." Mr. Lincoln then said: "You are right, Mr. Secretary. I most humbly thank you for that suggestion; it was an oversight of mine. Do me the favor of taking a pen and paper and adding what you would have in conclusion." Mr. Chase wrote seven words,—namely, "and the gracious favor of Almighty God." Mr. Lincoln then added them to the end of the last paragraph, which made it read as follows: "And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God."[11]
In referring to the differences of opinion entertained between Mr. Lincoln and the members of his Cabinet, it will be observed that in the matter of reconstruction of the State governments his policy was, according tohis proclamation, that the persons who were authorized to re-establish such governments were to be "the qualified voters of the respective States before the acts of secession." Mr. Chase alone of all the Cabinet objected to this clause of the proclamation, and insisted that it should be changed so as to read, instead of "qualified voters," "citizens of the State." But the Attorney-General in the year 1862 had given an opinion that the colored men born in the United States were citizens of the United States; and if the phrase "one-tenth of the qualified voters required to re-organize" were changed to "one-tenth of the citizens," the organization might have been legally composed entirely of colored men. Mr. Lincoln was set in his purpose that the restored governments in the seceded States should be organized by the "qualified voters" of those States before secession was attempted, and Mr. Chase had to submit to the inevitable.
The great caution with which Mr. Lincoln approached the important subject of elective franchise may be shown in his letter to Governor Hahn:—
(Private.)Executive Mansion,Washington, March 13, 1864.Hon. Michael Hahn:My dear Sir, — I congratulate you on having fixed your name in history as the first free-state Governor of Louisiana. Now, you are about to have a convention, which among other things will probably define the elective franchise. I barely suggest for your private consideration, whether someof the colored people may not be let in,—as, for instance, the very intelligent, and especially those who have fought gallantly in our ranks. They would probably help, in some trying time to come, to keep the jewel of liberty within the family of freedom. But this is only a suggestion,—not to the public, but to you alone.Yours truly,(Signed)A. Lincoln.
(Private.)
Executive Mansion,Washington, March 13, 1864.
Hon. Michael Hahn:
My dear Sir, — I congratulate you on having fixed your name in history as the first free-state Governor of Louisiana. Now, you are about to have a convention, which among other things will probably define the elective franchise. I barely suggest for your private consideration, whether someof the colored people may not be let in,—as, for instance, the very intelligent, and especially those who have fought gallantly in our ranks. They would probably help, in some trying time to come, to keep the jewel of liberty within the family of freedom. But this is only a suggestion,—not to the public, but to you alone.
Yours truly,
(Signed)A. Lincoln.
This would seem to show conclusively that Mr. Lincoln did not intend to force negro suffrage upon the people in the rebel States. Doubtless, he desired that the negroes should have the right of suffrage, but he expected and hoped that the people would confer the right of their own will. He knew that if this right were forced upon them, it could not or would not be exercised in peace. He realized in advance that the experiment of legislative equality was one fraught with difficulties and dangers, not only to the well-being of the negro, but to the peace of society. "While I am," said he, "in favor of freedom to all of God's human creatures, with equal political rights under prudential restrictions, I am not in favor of unlimited social equality. There are questions arising out of our complications that trouble me greatly. The question of universal suffrage to the freedman in his unprepared state is one of doubtful propriety. I do not oppose the justice of the measure; but I do think it is of doubtful political policy, and may rebound like a boomerang not only on the Republican party, but upon the freedman himself and our common country."
As the war approached its conclusion, and Mr. Lincoln foresaw the inevitable submission of the insurgents, his mind did not become less seriously affected by the contemplation of the new responsibilities which would devolve upon him as Chief Magistrate of the reorganized and reconstructed nation. His second Inaugural Address mirrored his frame of mind to a great extent. He was oppressed with great care, resulting from a consciousness that changes would occur in the near future which would impose upon him new and difficult duties, in which he might possibly find himself in conflict not only with the men in his own party who already persistently opposed him, but with many other public men who had supported his Administration throughout the existence of the war. There seemed to be no settled policy for the contemplated new state of things, and few men thought alike on the subject. There were almost as many theories as there were distinguished men to advance them. This state of things devolved the greater responsibility upon Mr. Lincoln, and he keenly felt the weight of it.
Upon no occasion, either public or private, did Mr. Lincoln hesitate to express freely his views and sentiments as to the conditions under which he would have liked the War of the Rebellion to terminate. All that he desired was that the enemy should cease fighting, lay down their arms, and return to their homes, their duties, and their allegiance to their country. He harbored no feeling of revenge, no thirst for the blood ofhis erring fellow-countrymen, his highest aspiration being peace and a restored Union. From what he has been repeatedly heard to declare, he would gladly have spared to his vanquished foes the humiliation of a public surrender if the war could otherwise have been brought to a close. He fondly hoped for a condition of things which would render reconstruction and love of country assured, fixed, and immutable. In discussing the question of reconstruction previous to the surrender of General Lee, I have more than once heard him say: "We cannot hang all these people, even if they were in our power; there are too many of them. Think of the consequences of such an act! Since this government was established, there have been comparatively few trials or executions for treason or offences against the State. This has been eminently a government of loyal citizens."
A distinguished gentleman, an earnest advocate for punishment of the rebels, once asked him what he intended to do when the moment arrived for him to act. "Do?" said he; "why, reconstruct the machinery of this government! This is all that I see I can properly do." The gentleman, with much asperity, exclaimed: "Mr. President, it does appear to some of your friends, myself included, as if you had taken final leave of your senses! As if it were intended that treason should henceforth not be regarded as odious, and the offenders, cut-throats, and authors of this war should not only go unpunished, but receive encouragement to repeat their outrages on the government with impunity! They should be hanged higher than Haman, sir!"
Mr. Lincoln here asked: "Mr. ——, suppose, when the moment has arrived, the hanging policy you recommend be adopted,—will you agree to be chief executioner? If so, let me know, and I will at once appoint you a brigadier-general and prospective public hangman of the United States. Will you serve, if so appointed?"
"Mr. Lincoln," responded his interlocutor, "I supposed you regarded me as a gentleman; at least you ought to know better than to ask me to do, or believe me capable of doing, such dirty work."
"You speak," said Mr. Lincoln, interrupting him, "of being a gentleman. In this free country of ours, when it comes to rights and duties, especially in time of war, the gentleman and the vagrant stand on exactly the same plane; their rights are equal, their duties the same. As a law-abiding citizen, you are no more exempt from the performance of what you call 'dirty work' than if you were not a gentleman."
His visitor here arose abruptly and left the room in great indignation, relieving himself of his pent-up wrath by a torrent of oaths and imprecations. He was a United States Senator, and I have not at all exaggerated his profanity or his deportment on the occasion here narrated. He did not, indeed, intermit his denunciations, which were, besides, embellished with the choicest specimens of billingsgate, until a casual rencontre on the Avenue with a member of the lower House afforded him the solace of exclaiming: "Lincoln is a damned idiot! He has no spirit, and is as weak as an old woman. Hewas never fitted for the position he holds. After this war is over, it would not at all surprise me if he were to fill the public offices with a horde of these infernal rebels, and choose for his constitutional advisers the damnable leaders of the rebellion themselves." I am not aware that this senator ever again visited the President.
After the capitulation of General Lee, what was to be done with the leaders of the rebellion became a most serious question. Persons who had been throughout the war the fiercest and most radical opponents of the rebels (such men as Horace Greeley and others) became suddenly most conservative; and the converse course was pursued by many of the most conservative persons, now urging relentless punishment of the offending leaders. General Grant asked for special instructions of Mr. Lincoln,—whether he should try to capture Jefferson Davis, or let him escape from the country if he wanted to do so. Mr. Lincoln replied by relating the story of an Irishman who had taken the pledge of Father Matthew, and having become terribly thirsty applied to a bar-tender for a lemonade; and while it was being prepared he whispered to the bar-tender, "And couldn't you put a little brandy in it all unbeknownst to myself?" Mr. Lincoln told the general he would like to let Jeff Davis escape all unbeknown to himself: he had no use for him.
On the day of the assassination, General Creswell came to Washington to see the President in the interest of an old friend who had been located in the South, andhad got into the rebel army, and had been captured by our troops and imprisoned. He drew an affidavit setting forth what he knew about the man, particularly mentioning extenuating circumstances which seemed to entitle him to the generosity or leniency of the government. General Creswell found the President very happy. The Confederacy had collapsed. The scene at Appomattox had just been enacted. He was greeted with: "Creswell, old fellow, everything is bright this morning. The war is over. It has been a tough time, but we have lived it out,—or some of us have," and he dropped his voice a little on the last clause of the sentence. "But it is over; we are going to have good times now, and a united country."
After a time, General Creswell told his story, read his affidavit, and said, "I know the man has acted like a fool, but he is my friend, and a good fellow; let him out, give him to me, and I will be responsible that he won't have anything more to do with the rebs."
"Creswell," said Mr. Lincoln, "you make me think of a lot of young folks who once started out Maying. To reach their destination, they had to cross a shallow stream, and did so by means of an old flatboat. When the time came to return, they found to their dismay that the old scow had disappeared. They were in sore trouble, and thought over all manner of devices for getting over the water, but without avail. After a time, one of the boys proposed that each fellow should pick up the girl he liked best and wade over with her. Themasterly proposition was carried out, until all that were left upon the island was a little short chap and a great, long, gothic-built, elderly lady. Now, Creswell, you are trying to leave me in the same predicament. You fellows are all getting your own friends out of this scrape; and you will succeed in carrying off one after another, until nobody but Jeff Davis and myself will be left on the island, and then I won't know what to do. How should I feel? How should I look, lugging him over? I guess the way to avoid such an embarrassing situation is to let them all out at once."
A somewhat similar illustration he made at an informal Cabinet meeting, at which was being discussed the disposition of Jefferson Davis and other prominent Confederates. Each member of the Cabinet gave his opinion; most of them were for hanging the traitors, or for some severe punishment. Lincoln said nothing. Finally, Joshua F. Speed, his old and confidential friend, who had been invited to the meeting, said, "I have heard the opinion of your Ministers, and would like to hear yours."
"Well, Josh," replied Mr. Lincoln, "when I was a boy in Indiana, I went to a neighbor's house one morning and found a boy of my own size holding a coon by a string. I asked him what he had and what he was doing. He says, 'It's a coon. Dad cotched six last night, and killed all but this poor little cuss. Dad told me to hold him until he came back, and I'm afraid he's going to kill this one too; and oh, Abe, I do wish hewould get away!' 'Well, why don't you let him loose?' 'That wouldn't be right; and if I let him go, Dad would give me hell. But if he would get away himself, it would be all right.' Now," said Mr. Lincoln, "if Jeff Davis and those other fellows will only get away, it will be all right. But if we should catch them, and I should let them go, 'Dad would give me hell.'"
The President of the Southern Confederacy was, however, afterwards captured and imprisoned at Fortress Monroe, charged with treason, etc., and at length admitted to bail,—Mr. Horace Greeley, the great Radical journalist, becoming one of his bondsmen. Mr. Davis was never brought to trial, and eventually the charges against him were ignored. He was a prisoner of State at Fortress Monroe for two years; in the year 1867 he was released on bail, went to Canada, but subsequently returned to the State of Mississippi, where he lived in retirement until his death.
On the night of the 3d of March, 1865, Mr. Lincoln, with several members of his Cabinet, was in attendance at the Capitol, awaiting the final passage of bills by Congress, in order that they might receive the Presidential signature. In the intervals between the reading, considering, and approving of these bills, the military situation was freely discussed. Every one appeared to be happy at the prospect of the early re-establishment of peace, General Grant having just telegraphed a glowing account of his successes and his control of the situation, and expressing the hope that a very few days would findRichmond in the hands of the national forces and the army of General Lee disbanded or captured. While the members were felicitating one another on the approaching cessation of hostilities, a second dispatch from General Grant was handed to Mr. Stanton, who, having read it, handed it to the President and became absorbed in thought. The telegram advised the Secretary of the receipt of a letter from General Lee, requesting an immediate interview, with a view to the re-establishment of peace between the two sections. The dispatch having been read by others of the party, Mr. Lincoln's spirits rose to a height rarely witnessed since the outbreak of the war. All the better and kindlier impulses of his nature were aroused. The cry, "What is to be done with the rebels when this cruel war is over?" ceased to ring in his ears. He was unable to restrain himself from giving expression to the natural impulses of his heart, or from foreshadowing the magnanimity with which the Confederates were now to be treated. He did not hesitate to express himself as favorably disposed towards granting the most lenient and generous terms to a defeated foe.