Abraham Lincoln and the Abolition of Slavery in the United States

[Illustration: A. Lincoln]

Makers of History.

Abraham Lincoln And The Abolition Of Slavery In The United States

By Charles Godfrey Leland

Author Of “Hans Breitmann’S Ballads,” “The Egyptian Sketch Book,” Etc., Etc.

New York H. M. Caldwell Company Publishers

Copyright By G. P. Putnam’S Sons. 1879

Publishers’ Note.

In issuing this second edition of Mr. Leland’s biography, the publishers have taken occasion to correct a few errors in dates and proper names, and in citations from documents, that had crept into the first edition.

The book was prepared during the author’s residence abroad, where he did not have at hand for reference all the authorities needed, and as it was stereotyped in London the above oversights were not at once detected.

Preface.

I make no apology for adding another “Life of Abraham Lincoln” to the many already written, as I believe it impossible to make such an example of successful perseverance allied to honesty, as the great President gave, too well known to the world. And as I know of no other man whose life shows so perfectly what may be effected by resolute self-culture, and adherence to good principles in spite of obstacles, I infer that such an example cannot be too extensively set before all young men who are ambitious to do _well_ in the truest sense. There are also other reasons why it should be studied. The life of Abraham Lincoln during his Presidency is simply that of his country--since he was so intimately concerned with every public event of his time, that as sometimes happens with photographs, so with the biography of Lincoln and the history of his time, we cannot decide whether the great picture was enlarged from the smaller one, or the smaller reduced from a greater. His career also fully proves that extremes meet, since in no despotism is there an example of any one who ever governed so great a country so thoroughly in detail as did this Republican of Republicans, whose one thought was simply to obey the people.

It is of course impossible to give within the limits of a small book all the details of a busy life, and also the history of the American Emancipation and its causes; but I trust that I have omitted little of much importance. The books to which I have been chiefly indebted, and from which I have borrowed most freely, are the lives of Lincoln by W. H. Lamon, and by my personal friends H. J. Raymond and Dr. Holland; and also the works referring to the war by I. N. Arnold, F. B. Carpenter, L. P. Brockett, A. Boyd, G. W. Bacon, J. Barrett, Adam Badeau, and F. Moore.

C. G. L.

_June, 1879._

Contents.

CHAPTER I. PAGE Birth of Abraham Lincoln--The Lincoln Family--Abraham’s first Schooling--Death of Mrs. Lincoln, and the new “Mother”--Lincoln’s Boyhood and Youth--Self-Education-- Great Physical Strength--First Literary Efforts--Journey to New Orleans--Encouraging Incident, 9

CHAPTER II. Lincoln’s Appearance--His First Public Speech--Again at New Orleans--Mechanical Genius--Clerk in a Country Store--Elected Captain--The Black Hawk War--Is a successful Candidate for the Legislature--Becomes a Storekeeper, Land Surveyor, and Postmaster--His First Love--The “Long Nine”--First Step towards Emancipation, 30

CHAPTER III. Lincoln settles at Springfield as a Lawyer--Candidate for the office of Presidential Elector--A Love Affair--Marries Miss Todd--Religious Views--Exerts himself for Henry Clay--Elected to Congress in 1846--Speeches in Congress--Out of Political Employment until 1854--Anecdotes of Lincoln as a Lawyer, 53

CHAPTER IV. Rise of the Southern Party--Formation of the Abolition and the Free Soil Parties--Judge Douglas and the Kansas-Nebraska Bill--Douglas defeated by Lincoln--Lincoln resigns as Candidate for Congress--Lincoln’s Letter on Slavery--The Bloomington Speech--The Fremont Campaign--Election of Buchanan--The Dred-Scott Decision, 64

CHAPTER V. Causes of Lincoln’s Nomination to the Presidency--His Lectures in New York, &c.--The First Nomination and the Fence Rails--The Nomination at Chicago--Elected President--Office-seekers and Appointments--Lincoln’s Impartiality--The South determined to Secede--Fears for Lincoln’s Life, 78

CHAPTER VI. A Suspected Conspiracy--Lincoln’s Departure for Washington--His Speeches at Springfield and on the road to the National Capital--Breaking out of the Rebellion--Treachery of President Buchanan--Treason in the Cabinet--Jefferson Davis’s Message--Threats of Massacre and Ruin to the North--Southern Sympathisers--Lincoln’s Inaugural Address--The Cabinet--The Days of Doubt and of Darkness, 88

CHAPTER VII. Mr. Seward refuses to meet the Rebel Commissioners--Lincoln’s Forbearance--Fort Sumter--Call for 75,000 Troops--Troubles in Maryland--Administrative Prudence--Judge Douglas--Increase of the Army--Winthrop and Ellsworth--Bull Run--General M‘Clellan, 102

CHAPTER VIII. Relations with Europe--Foreign Views of the War--The Slaves--Proclamation of Emancipation--Arrest of Rebel Commissioners--Black Troops, 117

CHAPTER IX. Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-two--The Plan of the War, and Strength of the Armies--General M‘Clellan--The General Movement, January 27th, 1862--The brilliant Western Campaign--Removal of M‘Clellan--The _Monitor_--Battle of Fredericksburg--Vallandigham and Seymour--The _Alabama_--President Lincoln declines all Foreign Mediation, 154

CHAPTER X. Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-three--A Popular Prophecy--General Burnside relieved and General Hooker appointed--Battle of Chancellorsville--The Rebels invade Pennsylvania--Battle of Gettysburg--Lincoln’s Speech at Gettysburg--Grant takes Vicksburg--Port Hudson--Battle of Chattanooga--New York Riots--The French in Mexico--Troubles in Missouri, 147

CHAPTER XI. Proclamation of Amnesty--Lincoln’s Benevolence--His Self-reliance--Progress of the Campaign--The Summer of 1864--Lincoln’s Speech at Philadelphia--Suffering in the South--Raids--Sherman’s March--Grant’s Position--Battle of the Wilderness--Siege of Petersburg--Chambersburg--Naval Victories--Confederate Intrigues--Presidential Election--Lincoln Re-elected--Atrocious Attempts of the Confederates, 172

CHAPTER XII. The President’s Reception of Negroes--The South opens Negotiations for Peace--Proposals--Lincoln’s Second Inauguration--The Last Battle--Davis Captured--End of the War--Death of Lincoln--Public Mourning, 203

CHAPTER XIII. President Lincoln’s Characteristics--His Love of Humour--His Stories--Pithy Sayings--Repartees--His Dignity, 233

Index, 245

Life Of Abraham Lincoln.

Chapter I.

Birth of Abraham Lincoln--The Lincoln Family--Abraham’s first Schooling--Death of Mrs. Lincoln, and the new “Mother”--Lincoln’s Boyhood and Youth--Self-Education--Great Physical Strength--First Literary Efforts--Journey to New Orleans--Encouraging Incident.

Abraham Lincoln was born in Kentucky, on the 12th day of February, 1809. The log-cabin which was his birth-place was built on the south branch of Nolin’s Creek, three miles from the village of Hodgensville, on land which was then in the county of Hardin, but is now included in that of La Rue. His father, Thomas Lincoln, was born in 1778; his mother’s maiden name was Nancy Hanks. The Lincoln family, which appears to have been of unmixed English descent, came to Kentucky from Berks County, Pennsylvania, to which place tradition or conjecture asserts they had emigrated from Massachusetts. But they did not remain long in Pennsylvania, since they seem to have gone before 1752 to Rockingham, County Virginia, which state was then one with that of Kentucky. There is, however, so much doubt as to these details of their early history, that it is not certain whether they were at first emigrants directly from England to Virginia, an offshoot of the historic Lincoln family in Massachusetts, or of the highly respectable Lincolns of Pennsylvania.[1] This obscurity is plainly due to the great poverty and lowly station of the Virginian Lincolns. “My parents,” said President Lincoln, in a brief autobiographic sketch,[2] “were both born of undistinguished families--second families, perhaps, I should say.” To this he adds that his paternal grandfather was Abraham Lincoln, who migrated from Rockingham, County Virginia, to Kentucky, “about 1781 or 2,” although his cousins and other relatives all declare this grandsire’s name to have been Mordecai--a striking proof of the ignorance and indifference of the family respecting matters seldom neglected.

This grandfather, Abraham or Mordecai, having removed to Kentucky, “the dark and bloody ground,” settled in Mercer County. Their house was a rough log-cabin, their farm a little clearing in the midst of the forest. One morning, not long after their settlement, the father took Thomas, his youngest son, and went to build a fence a short distance from the house, while the other brothers, Mordecai and Josiah, were sent to a field not far away. They were all intent upon their work, when a shot from a party of Indians in ambush was heard. The father fell dead. Josiah ran to a stockade, or settlement, two or three miles off; Mordecai, the eldest boy, made his way to the house, and, looking out from a loop-hole, saw an Indian in the act of raising his little brother from the ground. He took deliberate aim at a silver ornament on the breast of the Indian, and brought him down. Thomas sprang towards the cabin, and was admitted by his mother, while Mordecai renewed his fire at several other Indians who rose from the covert of the fence, or thicket. It was not long before Josiah returned from the stockade with a party of settlers; but the Indians had fled, and none were found but the dead one, and another who was wounded, and had crept into the top of a fallen tree. Mordecai, it is said, hated the Indians ever after with an intensity which was unusual even in those times. As Allan Macaulay, in “Waverley,” is said to have hunted down the Children of the Mist, or as the Quaker Nathan, in Bird’s romance of “Nick of the Woods,” is described as hunting the Shawnese, so we are told this other avenger of blood pursued his foes with unrelenting, unscrupulous hatred. For days together he would follow peaceable Indians as they passed through the settlements, in order to get secret shots at them.[3]

Mordecai, the Indian-killer, and his brother, Josiah, remained in Virginia, and grew up to be respectable, prosperous men. The younger brother, Thomas, was always “idle, thriftless, poor, a hunter, and a rover.” He exercised occasionally in a rough way the calling of a carpenter, and, wandering from place to place, began at different times to cultivate the wilderness, but with little success, owing to his laziness. Yet he was a man of great strength and vigour, and once “thrashed the monstrous bully of Breckinridge County in three minutes, and came off without a scratch.” He was an inveterate talker, or popular teller of stories and anecdotes, and a Jackson Democrat in politics, which signified that he belonged to the more radical of the two political parties which then prevailed in America. In religion, he was, says Lamon, who derived his information from Mr. W. H. Herndon, “nothing at times, and a member of various denominations by turns.” In 1806, he lived at Elizabethtown, in Hardin County, Kentucky, where, in the same year and place, he married Nancy Hanks: the exact date of the marriage is unknown. It is said of this young woman that she was a tall and beautiful brunette, with an understanding which, by her family at least, was considered wonderful. She could read and write--as rare accomplishments in those days in Kentucky backwoods as they still are among the poor whites of the South or their Western descendants.[4] In later life she was sadly worn by hard labour, both in the house and fields, and her features were marked with a melancholy which was probably constitutional, and which her son inherited.

It is to be regretted that President Abraham Lincoln never spoke, except with great reluctance, of his early life, or of his parents. As it is, the researches of W. H. Herndon and others have indicated the hereditary sources of his chief characteristics. We know that the grandfather was a vigorous backwoodsman, who died a violent death; that his uncle was a grim and determined manslayer, carrying out for years the blood-feud provoked by the murder of his parent; that his mother was habitually depressed, and that his father was a favourite of both men and women, though a mere savage when irritated, fond of fun, an endless storyteller, physically powerful, and hating hard work. Out of all these preceding traits, it is not difficult to imagine how the giant Abraham came to be inflexible of purpose and strong of will, though indolent--why he was good-natured to excess in his excess of strength--and why he was a great humourist, and at the same time a melancholy man.

It should be remembered by the reader that the state of society in which Abraham Lincoln was born and grew up resembled nothing now existing in Europe, and that it is very imperfectly understood even by many town-dwelling Americans. The people around him were all poor and ignorant, yet they bore their poverty lightly, were hardly aware of their want of culture, and were utterly unconscious of owing the least respect or deference to any human being. Some among them were, of course, aware of the advantages to be derived from wealth and political power; but the majority knew not how to spend the one, and were indifferent to the other. Even to this day, there are in the South and South-West scores of thousands of men who, owning vast tracts of fertile land, and gifted with brains and muscle, will not take the pains to build themselves homes better than ordinary cabins, or cultivate more soil than will supply life with plain and unvaried sustenance. The only advantage they have is the inestimable one, if properly treated, of being free from all trammels save those of ignorance. To rightly appreciate the good or evil qualities of men moulded in such society, requires great generosity, and great freedom from all that is conventional.

Within the first few years of her married life, Nancy Hanks Lincoln bore her husband three children. The first was a daughter, named Sarah, who married at fifteen, and died soon after; the second was Abraham; and the third Thomas, who died in infancy.[5] The family were always wretchedly poor, even below the level of their neighbours in want; and as the father was indolent, the wife was obliged to labour and suffer. But it is probable that Mrs. Lincoln, who could read, and Thomas, who attributed his failure in life to ignorance, wished their children to be educated. Schools were, of course, scarce in a country where the houses are often many miles apart. Zachariah Riney, a Catholic priest, was Abraham’s first teacher; his next was Caleb Hazel. The young pupil learned to read and write in a few weeks; but in all his life, reckoning his instruction by days, he had only one year’s schooling.

When Thomas Lincoln was first married (1806), he took his wife to live in Elizabethtown, in a wretched shed, which has since been used as a slaughter-house and stable. About a year after, he removed to Nolin’s Creek. Four years after the birth of Abraham (1809), he again migrated to a more picturesque and fertile place, a few miles distant on Knob Creek. Here he remained four years, and though he was the occupant of over 200 acres of good land, never cultivated more than a little patch, “being satisfied with milk and meal for food.” When his children went to school they walked eight miles, going and returning, having only maize bread for dinner. In 1816, the father, after having sold his interest in the farm for ten barrels of whiskey and twenty dollars, built himself a crazy flat-boat, and set sail alone on the Ohio, seeking for a new home. By accident, the boat foundered, and much of the cargo was lost; but Thomas Lincoln pushed on, and found a fitting place to settle in Indiana, near the spot on which the village of Gentryville now stands. It was in the untrodden wilderness, and here he soon after brought his family, to live for the first year in what is called a half-faced camp, or a rough hut of poles, of which only three sides were enclosed, the fourth being open to the air. In 1817, Betsy Sparrow, an aunt of Mrs. Lincoln, and her husband, Thomas, with a nephew named Dennis Hanks, joined the Lincolns, who removed to a better house, if that could be called a house which was built of rough logs, and had neither floor, door, nor window. For two years they continued to live in this manner. Lincoln, a carpenter, was too lazy to make himself the simplest furniture. They had a few three-legged stools; the only bed was made in a singular manner. Its head and one side were formed by a corner of the cabin, the bed-post was a single crotch cut from the forest. Laid upon this crotch were the ends of two hickory poles, whose other extremities were placed in two holes made in the logs of the wall. On these sticks rested “slats,” or boards rudely split from trees with an axe, and on these slats was laid a bag filled with dried leaves. This was the bed of Thomas and Nancy Lincoln, and into it--when the skins hung at the cabin entrance did not keep out the cold--little Abraham and his sister crept for warmth.[6] Very little is recorded of the childhood of the future President. He was once nearly drowned in a stream, and when eight years of age shot a wild turkey, which, he declared in after life, was the largest game he had ever killed--a remarkable statement for a man who had grown up in a deer country, where buck-skin formed the common material for clothing, and venison hams passed for money. One thing is at least certain--that, till he was ten years old, the poor boy was ill-clad, dirty, and ill-used by his father. He had, however, learned to write.

In 1818, a terrible but common epidemic, known in Western America as the milk-fever, broke out in Indiana, and within a few days Thomas and Betsy Sparrow and Mrs. Lincoln all died. They had no medical attendance, and it was nine months before a clergyman, named David Elkin, invited by the first letter which Abraham ever wrote, came one hundred miles to hold the funeral service and preach over the graves. Strange as it may seem, the event which is universally regarded as the saddest of every life, in the case of Abraham Lincoln led directly to greater happiness, and to a change which conduced to the development of all his better qualities. Thirteen months after the death of Nancy Lincoln, Thomas married a widow, Mrs. Johnston, whom he had wooed ineffectually in Kentucky when she was Miss Sally Bush. She was a woman of sense, industrious, frugal, and gifted with a pride which inspired her to lead a far more civilised life than that which satisfied poor Tom Lincoln. He had greatly exaggerated to her the advantages of his home in Indiana, and she was bitterly disappointed when they reached it. Fortunately, she owned a stock of good furniture, which greatly astonished little Abraham and Sarah and their cousin Dennis. “She set about mending matters with great energy, and made her husband put down a floor, and hang windows and doors.” It was in the depth of winter, and the children, as they nestled in the warm beds she had provided, enjoying the strange luxury of security from the cold winds of December, must have thanked her from the depths of their hearts. She had brought a son and two daughters of her own, but Abraham and his sister had an equal place in her affections. They were half naked, and she clad them; they were dirty, and she washed them; they had been ill-used, and she treated them with motherly tenderness. In her own language, she “made them look a little more human.”[7]

This excellent woman loved Abraham tenderly, and her love was warmly returned. After his death she declared to Mr. Herndon--“I can say what not one mother in ten thousand can of a boy--Abe never gave me a cross look, and never refused, in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested him; nor did I ever give him a cross word in all my life. His mind and mine--what little I had--seemed to run together. He was dutiful to me always. Abe was the best boy I ever saw, or ever expect to see.” “When in after years Mr. Lincoln spoke of his ‘saintly mother’ and of his ‘angel of a mother,’ he referred to this noble woman, who first made him feel ‘like a human being’--whose goodness first touched his childish heart, and taught him that blows and taunts and degradation were not to be his only portion in the world.” And if it be recorded of George Washington that he never told a lie, it should also be remembered of Abraham Lincoln, who carried his country safely through a greater crisis than that of the Revolutionary War,[8] that he always obeyed his mother.

Abraham had gone to school only a few weeks in Kentucky, and Mrs. Lincoln soon sent him again to receive instruction. His first teacher in Indiana was Hazel Dorsey; his next, Andrew Crawford. The latter, in addition to the ordinary branches of education, also taught “manners.” One scholar would be introduced by another, while walking round the log schoolroom, to all the boys and girls, taught to bow properly, and otherwise acquire the ordinary courtesies of life. Abraham distinguished himself in spelling, which has always been a favourite subject for competition in rural America, and he soon began to write short original articles, though composition formed no part of the studies. It was characteristic of the boy that his first essays were against cruelty to animals. His mates were in the habit of catching the box-turtles, or land-terrapins, or tortoises, and putting live coals on their backs to make them walk, which greatly annoyed Abraham. All who knew him, in boyhood or in later life, bear witness that this tenderness was equal to his calm courage and tremendous physical strength. The last school which he attended for a short time, and to reach which he walked every day nine miles, was kept by a Mr. Swaney. This was in 1826.

Abraham was now sixteen years of age, and had grown so rapidly that he had almost attained the height which he afterwards reached of six feet four inches. He was very dark, his skin was shrivelled even in boyhood by constant exposure, and he habitually wore low shoes, a linsey-woolsey shirt, a cap made from the skin of a raccoon or opossum, and buckskin breeches, which were invariably about twelve inches too short for him. When not working for his father, he was hired out as a farm-labourer to the neighbours. His cousin, John Hanks, says--“We worked barefoot, grubbed it, ploughed, mowed, and cradled together.”

All who knew him at this time testify that Abraham hated hard-work, though he did it well--that he was physically indolent, though intellectually very active--that he loved to laugh, tell stories, and joke while labouring--and that he passed his leisure moments in hard study or in reading, which he made hard by writing out summaries of all he read, and getting them by heart. He would study arithmetic at night by the light of the fire, and cipher or copy with a pencil or coal on the wooden shovel or on a board. When this was full, he would shave it off with his father’s drawing-knife, and begin again. When he had paper, he used it instead; but in the frequent intervals when he had none, the boards were kept until paper was obtained. Among the first books which he read and thoroughly mastered were “Æsop’s Fables,” “Robinson Crusoe,” Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress,” a “History of the United States,” Weem’s “Life of Washington,” and “The Revised Statutes of Indiana.” From another work, “The Kentucky Preceptor,” a collection of literary extracts, he is said by a Mrs. Crawford, who knew him well, to have “learned his school orations, speeches, and pieces to write.” The field-work, which Abraham Lincoln disliked, did not, however, exhaust his body, and his mind found relief after toil in mastering anything in print.[9] It is not unusual to see poor and ignorant youths who are determined to “get learning,” apply themselves to the hardest and dryest intellectual labour with very little discrimination of any difference between that and more attractive literature, and it is evident that young Lincoln worked in this spirit. There is no proof that his memory was by nature extraordinary--it would rather seem that the contrary was the case, from the pains which he took to improve it. During his boyhood, any book had to him all the charm of rarity; perhaps it was the more charming because most of his friends believed that mental culture was incompatible with industry. “Lincoln,” said his cousin, Dennis Hanks, “was lazy--a very lazy man. He was always reading, scribbling, writing, ciphering, writing poetry, and the like.” It is evident that his custom of continually exercising his memory on all subjects grew with his growth and strengthened with his strength. By the time he was twenty-five, he had, without instruction, made himself a good lawyer--not a mere “case-practitioner,” but one who argued from a sound knowledge of principles. It is said that when he began to read Blackstone, he thoroughly learned the first forty pages at one sitting. There is also sufficient proof that he had perfectly mastered not only “Euclid’s Geometry,” but a number of elementary scientific works, among others one on astronomy. And many anecdotes of his later life prove that he learned nothing without thinking it over deeply, especially in all its relations to his other acquisitions and its practical use. If education consists of mental discipline and the acquisition of knowledge, it is idle to say that Abraham Lincoln was uneducated, since few college graduates actually excelled him in either respect. These facts deserve dwelling on, since, in the golden book of self-made men, there is not one who presents a more encouraging example to youth, and especially to the poor and ambitious, than Abraham Lincoln. He developed his memory by resolutely training it--he brought out his reasoning powers as a lawyer by using his memory--he became a fluent speaker and a ready reasoner by availing himself of every opportunity to speak or debate. From the facts which have been gathered by his biographers, or which are current in conversation among those who knew him, it is most evident that there seldom lived a man who owed so little to innate genius or talents, in comparison to what he achieved by sheer determination and perseverance.

When Abraham was fifteen or sixteen, he began to exercise his memory in a new direction, by frequenting not only religious but political meetings, and by mounting the stump of a tree the day after and repeating with great accuracy all he had heard. It is said that he mimicked with great skill not only the tones of preachers and orators, but also their gestures and facial expressions. Anything like cruelty to man or beast would always inspire him to an original address, in which he would preach vigorously against inflicting pain. Wherever he spoke an audience was sure to assemble, and as this frequently happened in the harvest-field, the youthful orator or actor was often dragged down by his angry father and driven to his work. His wit and humour, his inexhaustible fund of stories, and, above all, his kind heart, made him everywhere a favourite. Women, says Mr. Lamon, were especially pleased, for he was always ready to do any kind of work for them, such as chopping wood, making a fire, or nursing a baby. Any family was glad when he was hired to work with them, since he did his work well, and made them all merry while he was about it. In 1825, he was employed by James Taylor as a ferry-man, to manage a boat which crossed the Ohio and Anderson’s Creek. In addition to this he worked on the farm, acted as hostler, ground corn, built the fires, put the water early on the fire, and prepared for the mistress’s cooking. Though he was obliged to rise so early, he always studied till nearly midnight. He was in great demand when hogs were slaughtered. For this rough work he was paid 31 cents (about 16d.) a-day. Meanwhile, he became incredibly strong. He could carry six hundred pounds with ease; he once picked up some huge posts which four men were about to lift, and bore them away with little effort. Men yet alive have seen him lift a full barrel of liquor and drink from the bung-hole. “He could sink an axe,” said an old friend, “deeper into wood than any man I ever saw.” He was especially skilled in wrestling, and from the year 1828 there was no man, far or near, who would compete with him in it.[10] From his boyhood, he was extremely temperate. Those who have spoken most freely of his faults admit that, in a country where a whiskey-jug was kept in every house, Lincoln never touched spirits except to avoid giving offence. His stepmother thought he was temperate to a fault.

Meanwhile, as the youth grew apace, the neighbouring village of Gentryville had grown with him. Books and cultivated society became more accessible. The great man of the place was a Mr. Jones, the storekeeper, whose shop supplied all kinds of goods required by farmers. Mr. Jones took a liking to young Lincoln, employed him sometimes, taught him politics, giving him deep impressions in favour of Andrew Jackson, the representative of the Democratic party, and finally awoke Abraham’s ambition by admiring him, and predicting that he would some day be a great man. Another friend was John Baldwin, the village blacksmith, who was, even for a Western American wag, wonderfully clever at a jest, and possessed of an inexhaustible fund of stories. It was from John Baldwin that Lincoln derived a great number of the quaint anecdotes with which he was accustomed in after years to illustrate his arguments. His memory contained thousands of these drolleries; so that, eventually, there was no topic of conversation which did not “put him in mind of a little story.” In some other respects, his acquisitions were less useful. Though he knew a vast number of ballads, he could not sing one; and though a reader of Burns, certain of his own satires and songs, levelled at some neighbours who had slighted him, were mere doggerel, wanting every merit, and very bitter. But, about 1827, he contributed an article on temperance and another on American politics to two newspapers, published in Ohio. From the praise awarded by a lawyer, named Pritchard, to the political article, it would appear to have been very well written. Even in this first essay in politics, Lincoln urged the principle by which he became famous, and for which he died--adherence to the constitution and the integrity of the American Union.

In March, 1828, Abraham Lincoln was hired by Mr. Gentry, the proprietor of Gentryville, as “bow-hand,” and “to work the front oars,” on a boat going with a cargo of bacon to New Orleans. This was a trip of 1800 miles, and then, as now, the life of an Ohio and Mississippi boatman was full of wild adventure. One incident which befel the future President was sufficiently strange. Having arrived at a sugar-plantation six miles below Baton Rouge, the boat was pulled in, and Lincoln, with his companion, a son of Mr. Gentry, went to sleep. Hearing footsteps in the night, they sprang up, and saw that a gang of seven negroes were coming on board to rob or murder. Seizing a hand-spike, Lincoln rushed towards them, and as the leader jumped on the boat, knocked him into the water. The second, third, and fourth, as they leaped aboard, were served in the same way, and the others fled, but were pursued by Lincoln and Gentry, who inflicted on them a severe beating. In this encounter, Abraham received a wound the scar of which he bore through life. It is very probable that among these negroes who would have taken the life of the future champion of emancipation, there were some who lived to share its benefits and weep for his death.[11]

It was during this voyage, or about this time, that two strangers paid Abraham half a silver dollar each for rowing them ashore in a boat. Relating this to Mr. Seward, Secretary of State, he said--“You may think it was a very little thing, but it was a most important incident in my life. I could scarcely believe that I, a poor boy, had earned a dollar in less than a day. I was a more hopeful and confident being from that time.”

Chapter II.

Lincoln’s Appearance--His First Public Speech--Again at New Orleans--Mechanical Genius--Clerk in a Country Store--Elected Captain--The Black Hawk War--Is a successful Candidate for the Legislature--Becomes a Storekeeper, Land-Surveyor, and Postmaster--His First Love--The “Long Nine”--First Step towards Emancipation.

In 1830, Thomas Lincoln had again tired of his home, and resolved to move Westward. This time he did not change without good reason: an epidemic had appeared in his Indiana neighbourhood, which was besides generally unhealthy. Therefore, in the spring, he and Abraham, with Dennis Hanks and Levi Hall, who had married one of Mrs. Lincoln’s daughters by her first husband, with their families, thirteen in all, having packed their furniture on a waggon, drawn by four oxen, took the road for Illinois. After journeying 200 miles in fifteen days, Thomas Lincoln settled in Moron County, on the Sangamon River, about ten miles west of Decatur. Here they built a cabin of hewn timber, with a smoke-house for drying meat, and a stable, and broke up and fenced fifteen acres of land.

Abraham Lincoln was now twenty-one, and his father had been a hard master, taking all his wages. He therefore, after doing his best to settle the family in their new home, went forth to work for himself among the farmers. One George Cluse, who worked with Abraham during the first year in Illinois, says that at that time he was “the roughest-looking person he ever saw: he was tall, angular, and ungainly, and wore trousers of flax and tow, cut tight at the ankle and out at the knees. He was very poor, and made a bargain with Mrs. Nancy Miller to split 400 rails for every yard of brown jean, dyed with walnut bark, that would be required to make him a pair of trousers.”

Thomas Lincoln found, in less than a year, that his new home was the most unhealthy of all he had tried. So he went Westward again, moving to three new places until he settled at Goose Nest Prairie, in Coles County, where he died at the age of seventy-three, “as usual, in debt.” From the time of his death, and as he advanced in prosperity, Abraham aided his stepmother in many ways besides sending her money. It was at Decatur that he made his first public speech, standing on a keg. It was on the navigation of the Sangamon River, and was delivered extemporaneously in reply to one by a candidate for the Legislature, named Posey.

During the winter of 1831, a trader, named Denton Offutt, proposed to John Hanks, Abraham Lincoln, and John D. Johnston, his stepmother’s son, to take a flat-boat to New Orleans. The wages offered were very high--fifty cents a day to each man, and sixty dollars to be divided among them at the end of the trip. After some delay, the boat, loaded with corn, pigs, and pork, sailed, but just below New Salem, on the Sangamon, it stuck on a dam, but was saved by the great ingenuity of Lincoln, who invented a novel apparatus for getting it over. This seems to have turned his mind to the subject of overcoming such difficulties of navigation, and in 1849 he obtained a patent for “an improved method of lifting vessels over shoals.” The design is a bellows attached to each side of the hull, below the water-line, to be pumped full of air when it is desired to lift the craft over a shoal. The model, which is eighteen or twenty inches long, and which is now in the Patent Office at Washington, appears to have been cut with a knife from a shingle and a cigar-box.[12] John Hanks, apparently a most trustworthy and excellent man, declared that it was during this trip, while at New Orleans, Lincoln first saw negroes chained, maltreated, and whipped. It made a deep impression on his humane mind, and, years after, he often declared that witnessing this cruelty first induced him to think slavery wrong. At New Orleans the flat-boat discharged its cargo, and was sold for its timber. Lincoln returned on a steamboat to St. Louis, and thence walked home. He had hardly returned, before he received a challenge from a famous wrestler, named Daniel Needham. There was a great assembly at Wabash Point, to witness the match, where Needham was thrown with so much ease that his pride was more hurt than his body.

In July, 1831, Abraham again engaged himself to Mr. Offutt, to take charge of a country store at New Salem. While awaiting his employer, an election was held, and a clerk was wanted at the polls. The stranger, Abraham, being asked whether he was competent to fill the post, said, “I will try,” and performed the duties well. This was the first public official act of his life; and as soon as Offutt’s goods arrived, Lincoln, from a day-labourer, became a clerk, or rather salesman, in which capacity he remained for one year, or until the spring of 1832, when his employer failed. Many incidents are narrated of Lincoln’s honesty towards customers during this clerkship--of his strict integrity in trifles--his bravery when women were annoyed by bullies--and of his prowess against a gang of ruffians who infested and ruled the town. He is said to have more than once walked several miles after business hours to return six cents, or some equally trifling sum, when he had been overpaid. It is very evident that he managed all matters with so much tact as to make fast friends of everybody, and was specially a favourite of the men with whom he fought. It was now that he began to cultivate popularity, quietly, but with the same determination which he had shown in acquiring knowledge. To his credit be it said, that he effected this neither by flattery nor servility, but by making the most of his good qualities, and by inducing respect for his honesty, intelligence, and bravery. It is certain that, during a year, Mr. Offutt was continually stimulating his ambition, and insisting that he knew more than any man in the United States, and would some day be President. Lincoln himself knew very well by this time of what stuff many of the men were made who rose in politics, and that, with a little luck and perseverance, he could hold his own with them. When out of the “store,” he was always busy, as of old, in the pursuit of knowledge. He mastered the English grammar, remarking that, “if that was what they called a science, he thought he could subdue another.” A Mr. Green, who became his fellow-clerk, declares that his talk now showed that he was beginning to think of “a great life and a great destiny.” He busied himself very much with debating clubs, walking many miles to attend them, and for years continued to take the “Louisville Journal,” famous for the lively wit of its editor, George D. Prentice, and for this newspaper he paid regularly when he had not the means to buy decent clothing. From this time his life rapidly increases in interest. It is certain that, from early youth, he had quietly determined to become great, and that he thoroughly tested his own talents and acquirements before entering upon politics as a career. His chief and indeed his almost only talent was resolute perseverance, and by means of it he passed in the race of life thousands who were his superiors in genius. Among all the biographies of the great and wise and good among mankind, there is not one so full of encouragement to poor young men as that of Abraham Lincoln, since there is not one which so illustrates not only how mere personal success may be attained, but how, by strong will and self-culture, the tremendous task of guiding a vast country through the trials of a civil war may be successfully achieved.

In the spring of 1832, Mr. Offutt failed, and Lincoln had nothing to do. For some time past, an Indian rebellion, led by the famous Black Hawk, Chief of the Sac tribe, had caused the greatest alarm in the Western States. About the beginning of this century (1804-5), the Sacs had been removed west of the Mississippi; but Black Hawk, believing that his people had been unjustly exiled, organised a conspiracy which for a while embraced nine of the most powerful tribes of the North-West, and announced his intention of returning and settling in the old hunting-grounds of his people on the Rock River. He was a man of great courage and shrewdness, skilled as an orator, and dreaded as one gifted with supernatural power, combining in his person the war-chief and prophet. But the returning Indians, by committing great barbarities on the way, caused such irritation and alarm among the white settlers, that when Governor Reynolds of Illinois, issued a call for volunteers, several regiments of hardy frontiersmen were at once formed. Black Hawk’s allies, with the exception of the tribe of the Foxes, at once fell away, but their desperate leader kept on in his course. Among the companies which volunteered was one from Menard County, embracing many men from New Salem. The captain was chosen by vote, and the choice fell on Lincoln. He was accustomed to say, when President, that nothing in his life had ever gratified him so much as this promotion; and this may well have been, since, to a very ambitious man, the first practical proofs of popularity are like the first instalment of a great fortune paid to one who is poor.

Though he was never in an actual engagement during this campaign, Lincoln underwent much hunger and hardship while it lasted, and at times had great trouble with his men, who were not only mere raw militia, but also unusually rough and rebellious. One incident of the war, however, as narrated by Lamon, not only indicates that Abraham Lincoln was sometimes in danger, but was well qualified to grapple with it.

“One day, during these many marches and countermarches, an old Indian, weary, hungry, and helpless, found his way into the camp. He professed to be a friend of the whites; and, although it was an exceedingly perilous experiment for one of his colour, he ventured to throw himself upon the mercy of the soldiers. But the men first murmured, and then broke out into fierce cries for his blood. “We have come out to fight Indians,” they said, “and we intend to do it.” The poor Indian, now in the extremity of his distress and peril, did what he should have done before--he threw down before his assailants a soiled and crumpled paper, which he implored them to read before taking his life. It was a letter of character and safe conduct from General Cass, pronouncing him a faithful man, who had done good service in the cause for which this army was enlisted. But it was too late; the men refused to read it, or thought it a forgery, and were rushing with fury upon the defenceless old savage, when Captain Lincoln bounded between them and their appointed victim. “Men,” said he, and his voice for a moment stilled the agitation around him, “this must not be done--he must not be shot and killed by us.” “But,” said some of them, “the Indian is a spy.” Lincoln knew that his own life was now in only less danger than that of the poor creature that crouched behind him. During this scene, the towering form and the passion and resolution in Lincoln’s face produced an effect upon the furious mob. They paused, listened, fell back, and then sullenly obeyed what seemed to be the voice of reason as well as authority. But there were still some murmurs of disappointed rage, and half-suppressed exclamations which looked towards vengeance of some kind. At length one of the men, a little bolder than the rest, but evidently feeling that he spoke for the whole, cried out--“This is cowardly on your part, Lincoln!” “If any man think I am a coward, let him test it,” was the reply. “Lincoln,” responded a new voice, “you are larger and heavier than we are.” “This you can guard against; choose your weapons,” returned the Captain. Whatever may be said of Mr. Lincoln’s choice of means for the preservation of military discipline, it was certainly very effectual in this case. There was no more disaffection in his camp, and the word “coward” was never coupled with his name again. Mr. Lincoln understood his men better than those who would be disposed to criticise his conduct. He has often declared himself that “his life and character were both at stake, and would probably have been lost, had he not at that supremely critical moment forgotten the officer and asserted the man.” The soldiers, in fact, could not have been arrested, tried, or punished; they were merely wild backwoodsmen, “acting entirely by their own will, and any effort to court-martial them would simply have failed in its object, and made their Captain seem afraid of them.”

During this campaign, Lincoln made the acquaintance of a lawyer--then captain--the Hon. T. Stuart, who had subsequently a great influence on his career. When the company was mustered out in May, Lincoln at once re-enlisted as a private in a volunteer spy company, where he remained for a month, until the Battle of Bad Axe, which resulted in the capture of Black Hawk, put an end to hostilities. This war was not a remarkable affair, says J. G. Holland, but it was remarkable that the two simplest, homeliest, and truest men engaged in it afterwards became Presidents of the United States--namely, General, then Colonel, Zachary Taylor and Abraham Lincoln.

It has always been usual in the United States to urge to the utmost the slightest military services rendered by candidates for office. The absurd degree to which this was carried often awoke the satire of Lincoln, even when it was at his own expense. Many years after, he referred thus humorously to his military services[13]:--

“By the way, Mr. Speaker, did you know I was a military hero? Yes, sir, in the days of the Black Hawk war I fought, bled, and came away. Speaking of General Cass’s career reminds me of my own. I was not at Sullivan’s defeat, but I was about as near to it as Cass was to Hull’s surrender, and, like him, I saw the place soon after. It is quite certain that I did not break my sword, for I had none to break;[14] but I bent my musket pretty badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword, the idea is he broke it in desperation. I bent the musket by accident. If General Cass went in advance of me in picking whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live fighting Indians, it was more than I did; but I had a great many bloody struggles with the mosquitoes, and, although I never fainted from loss of blood, I certainly can say I was often very hungry.”

The soldiers from Sangamon County arrived home just ten days before the State election, and Lincoln was immediately applied to for permission to place his name among the candidates for the Legislature.[15] He canvassed the district, but was defeated, though he received the almost unanimous vote of his own precinct. The young man had, however, made a great advance even by defeat, since he became known by it as one whose sterling honesty had deserved a better reward. Lincoln’s integrity was, in this election, strikingly evinced by his adherence to his political principles; had he been less scrupulous, he would not have lost the election. At this time there were two great political parties--the Democratic, headed by Andrew Jackson, elected President in 1832, and that which had been the Federalist, but which was rapidly being called Whig. The Democratic party warred against a national bank, paper money, “monopolies” or privileged and chartered institutions, a protective tariff, and internal improvements, and was, in short, jealous of all public expenditure which could tend to greatly enrich individuals. Its leader, Jackson, was a man of inflexible determination and unquestionable bravery, which he had shown not only in battle, but by subduing the incipient rebellion in South Carolina, when that state had threatened to nullify or secede from the Union. Lincoln’s heart was with Jackson; he had unbounded admiration for the man, but he knew that the country needed internal improvements, and in matters of political economy inclined to the Whigs.

After returning from the army, he went to live in the house of W. H. Herndon, a most estimable man, to whose researches the world owes nearly all that is known of Lincoln’s early life and family, and who was subsequently his law-partner. At this time the late Captain thought of becoming a blacksmith, but as an opportunity occurred of buying a store in New Salem on credit, he became, in company with a man named Berry, a country merchant, or trader.

He showed little wisdom in associating himself with Berry, who proved a drunkard, and ruined the business, after a year of anxiety, leaving Lincoln in debt, which he struggled to pay off through many years of trouble. It was not until 1849 that the last note was discharged. His creditors were, however, considerate and kind. While living with Mr. Herndon, Lincoln began to study law seriously. He had previously read Blackstone, and by one who has really mastered this grand compendium of English law the profession is already half-acquired. He was still very poor, and appears to have lived by helping a Mr. Ellis in his shop, and to have received much willing aid from friends, especially John T. Stuart, who always cheerfully supplied his wants, and lent him law-books.

About this time, Lincoln attracted the attention of a noted Democrat, John Calhoun, the surveyor of Sangamon County, who afterwards became famous as President of the Lecompton Council in Kansas, during the disturbances between the friends and opponents of slavery prior to the admission of the state. He liked Lincoln, and, wanting a really honest assistant, recommended him to learn surveying, lending him a book for the purpose. In six weeks he had qualified himself, and soon acquired a small private business.

On the 7th May, 1833, Lincoln was appointed postmaster at New Salem. As the mail arrived but once a-week, neither the duties nor emoluments of the office were such as to greatly disturb or delight him. He is said, indeed, to have kept the letters in his hat, being at once, in his own person, both office and officer. The advantages which he gained were opportunities to read the newspapers, which he did aloud to the assembled inhabitants, and to decipher letters for all who could not read. All of this was conducive, in a creditable way, to notoriety and popularity, and he improved it as such. In the autumn of 1834, a great trouble occurred. His scanty property, consisting of the horse, saddle, bridle, and surveyor’s instruments by which he lived, were seized under a judgment on one of the notes which he had given for “the store.” But two good friends, named Short and Bowlin Greene, bought them in for 245 dollars, which Lincoln faithfully repaid in due time. It is said that he was an accurate surveyor, and remarkable for his truthfulness. He never speculated in lands, nor availed himself of endless opportunities to profit, by aiding the speculations of others.

Miserably poor and badly clad, Lincoln, though very fond of the society of women, was sensitive and shy when they were strangers. Mr. Ellis, the storekeeper for whom he often worked, states that, when he lived with him at the tavern, there came a lady from Virginia with three stylish daughters, who remained a few weeks. “During their stay, I do not remember Mr. Lincoln ever eating at the same table where they did. I thought it was on account of his awkward appearance and wearing apparel.” There are many anecdotes recorded of this kind, showing at this period his poverty, his popularity, and his kindness of heart. He was referee, umpire, and unquestioned judge in all disputes, horse-races, or wagers. One who knew him in this capacity said of him--“He is the fairest man I ever had to deal with.”

In 1834, Lincoln again became a successful candidate for the Legislature of Illinois, receiving a larger majority than any other candidate on the ticket. A friend, Colonel Smoot, lent him 200 dollars to make a decent appearance, and he went to the seat of government properly dressed, for, perhaps, the first time in his life. During the session, he said very little, but worked hard and learned much. He was on the Committee for Public Accounts and Expenditures, and when the session was at an end, quietly walked back to his work.

Lamon relates, at full length, that at this time Lincoln was in love with a young lady, who died of a broken heart in 1835, not, however, for Lincoln, but for another young man who had been engaged to, and abandoned her. At her death, Lincoln seemed for some weeks nearly insane, and was never the same man again. From this time he lost his youth, and became subject to frequent attacks of intense mental depression, resulting in that settled melancholy which never left him.

In 1836, he was again elected to the Legislature. Political excitement at this time ran high. The country was being settled rapidly, and people’s minds were wild with speculation in lands and public works, from which every man hoped for wealth, and which were to be developed by the legislators. Lincoln’s colleagues were in an unusual degree able men, and the session was a busy one. It was during the canvass of 1836 that he made his first really great speech. He had by this time fairly joined the new Whig party, and it was in reply to a Democrat, Dr. Early, that he spoke. From that day he was recognised as one of the most powerful orators in the state.

The principal object of this session, in accordance with the popular mania, was internal improvements, and to this subject Lincoln had been devoted for years. The representatives from Sangamon County consisted of nine men of great influence, every one at least six feet in height, whence they were known as the Long Nine. The friends of the adoption of a general system of internal improvements wished to secure the aid of the Long Nine, but the latter refused to aid them unless the removal of the capital of the state from Vandalia to Springfield should be made a part of the measure. The result was that both the Bill for removal and that for internal improvements, involving the indebtedness of the state for many millions of dollars, passed the same day. Lincoln was the leader in these improvements, and “was a most laborious member, instant in season and out of season for the great measures of the Whig party.”[16] At the present day, though grave doubts may exist as to the expediency of such reckless and radical legislation, there can be none as to the integrity or good faith of Abraham Lincoln. He did not enrich himself by it, though it is not impossible that, in legislation as in land-surveying, others swindled on his honesty.

It was during this session that Lincoln first beheld Stephen Douglas, who was destined to become, for twenty years, his most formidable opponent. Douglas, from his diminutive stature and great mind, was afterwards popularly known as the Little Giant. Lincoln merely recorded his first impressions of Douglas by saying he was the least man he ever saw. This legislation of 1836-37 was indeed of a nature to attract speculators, whether in finance or politics. Within a few days, it passed two loans amounting to 12,000,000 dollars, and chartered 1,300 miles of railway, with canals, bridges, and river improvements in full proportion. The capital stock of two banks was increased by nearly 5,000,000 dollars, which the State took, leaving it to the banks to manage the railroad and canal funds. Everything was undertaken on a colossal and daring scale by the legislators, who were principally managed by the Long Nine, who were in their turn chiefly directed by Lincoln. The previous session had been to him only as the green-room in which to prepare himself for the stage. When he made this his first appearance in the political _ballet_, it was certainly with such a leap as had never before been witnessed in any beginner. The internal improvement scheme involved not only great boldness and promptness in its execution, but also a vast amount of that practical business talent in which most “Western men” and Yankees are instinctively proficient. With all this, there was incessant hard work and great excitement. Through the turmoil, Lincoln passed like one in his true element. He had at last got into the life to which he had aspired for years, and was probably as happy as his constitutional infirmity of melancholy would permit. He was, it is true, no man of business in the ordinary sense, but he understood the general principles of business, and was skilled in availing himself in others of talents which he did not possess.

During this session, he put on record his first anti-slavery protest. It was, in the words of Lamon, “a very mild beginning,” but it required uncommon courage, and is interesting as indicating the principle upon which his theory of Emancipation was afterwards carried out. At this time the whole country, North as well as South, was becoming excited concerning the doctrines and practices of the small but very rapidly-growing body of Abolitionists, who were attacking slavery with fiery zeal, and provoking in return the most deadly hatred. The Abolitionist, carrying the Republican theory to its logical extreme, insisted that all men, white or black, were entitled to the same political and social rights; the slave-owners honestly believed that society should consist of strata, the lowest of which should be bondmen. The Abolitionist did not recognise that slavery in America, like serfdom in Russia, had developed into culture a country which would, without it, have remained a wilderness; nor did the slave theorists recognise that a time must infallibly come when both systems of enforced labour must yield to new forms of industrial development. The Abolitionists, taking their impressions from the early English and Quaker philanthropists, thought principally of the personal wrong inflicted on the negro; while the majority of Americans declared, with equal conviction, that the black’s sufferings were not of so much account that white men should be made to suffer much more for them, and the whole country be possibly overwhelmed in civil war. Even at this early period of the dispute, there were, however, in the old Whig party, a few men who thought that the growing strife was not to be stopped simply by crushing the Abolitionists. But while they would gladly have seen the latter abate their furious zeal, they also thought that slavery might, with propriety, be at least checked in its progress, since they had observed, with grave misgiving, that wherever it was planted, only an aristocracy flourished, while the poor white men became utterly degraded. Such were the views of Abraham Lincoln--views which, in after years, led, during the sharp and bitter need of the war, to the formation of the theory of Emancipation for the sake of the Country, as opposed to mere Abolition for the sake of the Negro, which had had its turn and fulfilled its mission.

The feeling against the Abolitionists was very bitter in Illinois. Many other states had passed severe resolutions, recommending that anti-slavery agitation be made an indictable offence, or a misdemeanour; and in May, 1836, Congress declared that all future “abolition petitions” should be laid on the table without discussion. But when the Legislature of Illinois took its turn in the fashion, and passed resolutions of the same kind, Abraham Lincoln presented to the House a protest which he could get but one man, Dan Stone, to sign. Perhaps he did not want any more signatures, for he was one of those who foresaw to what this cloud, no larger than a man’s hand, would in future years extend, and was willing to be alone as a prophet. The protest was as follows:--

_March 3, 1837._

The following protest was presented to the House, which was read and ordered to be spread on the journals, to wit:--

Resolutions upon the subject of domestic slavery having passed both branches of the General Assembly at its present session, the undersigned hereby protest against the passage of the same.

They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both injustice and bad policy; but that the promulgation of Abolition doctrines tends rather to increase than abate its evils.

They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery in the different states.

They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power, under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the district of Columbia; but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at the request of the people of the district.

The difference between these opinions and those contained in the said resolutions is their reason for entering this protest.

(Signed) DAN STONE.

A. Lincoln.

_Representatives from the County of Sangamon._

This was indeed a very mild protest, but it was the beginning of that which, in after years, grew to be the real Emancipation of the negro. Never in history was so fine an end of the wedge succeeded by such a wide cleaving bulk. Much as Lincoln afterwards accomplished for the abolition of slavery, he never, says Holland, became more extreme in his views than the words of this protest intimate. It was during this session also that he first put himself in direct opposition to Douglas by another protest. The Democrats, in order to enable the _aliens_--virtually the Irishmen--in their state to vote on six months’ residence, passed a Bill known as the Douglas Bill, remodelling the judiciary in such a way as to secure judges who would aid them. Against this, Lincoln, E. D. Baker, and others protested vigorously, but without avail. Both of these protests, though failures at the time, were in reality the beginnings of the two great principles which led to Lincoln’s great success, and the realisation of his utmost ambition. During his life, defeat was always a step to victory.

Chapter III.

Lincoln settles at Springfield as a Lawyer--Candidate for the Office of Presidential Elector--A Love Affair--Marries Miss Todd--Religious Views--Exerts himself for Henry Clay--Elected to Congress in 1846--Speeches in Congress--Out of Political Employment until 1854--Anecdotes of Lincoln as a Lawyer.

Abraham Lincoln’s career was now clear. He was to follow the law for a living, as a step to political eminence. And as the seat of State Government was henceforth to be at Springfield, he determined to live where both law and politics might be followed to the greatest advantage, since it was in Springfield that, in addition to the State Courts, the Circuit and District Courts of the United States sat. He obtained his license as an attorney in 1837, and commenced his practice in the March of that year. He entered into partnership with his friend, J. T. Stewart, and lived with the Hon. W. Butler, who was of great assistance to him in the simple matter of living, for he was at this time as poor as ever. During 1837, he delivered several addresses in which there was a strong basis of common sense, though they were fervid and figurative to extravagance, as suited the tastes of his hearers. In these speeches he predicted the great struggle on which the country was about to enter, and that it would never be settled by passion but by reason--“cold, calculating, unimpassioned reasoning, which must furnish all the materials for our future defence and support.” He also distinguished himself in debate and retort, so that ere long he became unrivalled, in his sphere, in ready eloquence. From this time, for twenty years, he followed his great political rival, Douglas, seeking every opportunity to contend with him. From 1837 he concerned himself little with the politics of his state, but entered with zeal into the higher interests of the Federal Union.

In 1840, Lincoln was a candidate for the office of Presidential elector on the Harrison ticket, and made speeches through a great part of Illinois. Soon after, he again became involved in a love affair, which, through its perplexities and the revival of the memory of his early disappointment, had a terrible effect upon his mind. He had become intimate with a Mr. Speed, who remained through life his best friend. For a year he was almost a lunatic, and was taken to Kentucky by Mr. Speed, and kept there until he recovered. It was for this reason that he did not attend the Legislature of 1841-42. It is very characteristic of Lincoln that, from boyhood, he never wanted true friends to aid him in all his troubles.

Soon after his recovery, Lincoln became engaged to Miss Mary Todd. This lady was supposed to be gifted as a witty and satirical writer, though it must be admitted that the specimens of her literary capacity, exhibited in certain anonymous contributions to the newspapers, show little talent beyond the art of irritation. Several of these were levelled at a politician named James Shields, an Irishman, who, being told that Lincoln had written them, sent him a challenge. The challenge was accepted, but the duel was prevented by mutual friends. Lincoln married Miss Todd on the 4th November, 1842. This marriage, which had not been preceded by the most favourable omens, was followed by a singular misfortune. In 1843, Lincoln was a Whig candidate for Congress, but was defeated. “He had a hard time of it, and was compelled to meet accusations of a strange character. Among other things, he was charged with being an aristocrat, and with having deserted his old friends, the people, by marrying a proud woman on account of her blood and family. This hurt him keenly,” says Lamon, “and he took great pains to disprove it.” Other accusations, equally frivolous, relative to his supposed religion or irreligion, also contributed to his defeat.

On this much-vexed subject of Lincoln’s religious faith, or his want of it, something may here be said. In his boyhood, when religious associations are most valuable in disciplining the mind, he had never even seen a church, and, as he grew older, his sense of humour and his rude companions prevented him from being seriously impressed by the fervid but often eccentric oratory of the few itinerant preachers who found their way into the backwoods. At New Salem, he had read “Volney’s Ruins” and the works of Thomas Paine, and was for some time a would-be unbeliever. It is easy to trace in his youthful irreligion the influence of irresistible causes. As he grew older, his intensely melancholy and emotional temperament inclined him towards reliance in an unseen Providence and belief in a future state; and it is certain that, after the unpopularity of freethinkers had forced itself upon his mind, the most fervidly passionate expressions of piety began to abound in his speeches. In this he was not, however, hypocritical. From his childhood, Abraham Lincoln was possessed even to unreason with the idea that whatever was absolutely popular, was founded on reason and right. He was a Republican of Republicans, faithfully believing that whatever average common sense accepted must be followed.[17] His own personal popularity was at all times very great. One who knew him testifies that, when the lawyers travelling the judicial circuit of Illinois arrived at the villages where trials were to be held, crowds of men and women always assembled to welcome Abraham Lincoln.

Lincoln himself had a great admiration for Henry Clay. In 1844, he went through Illinois delivering speeches and debating and speaking, or, as it is called in America, “stumping” for him, and he even extended his labours into Indiana. It was all in vain, and Clay’s defeat was a great blow to Lincoln.[18] At this time, though he withdrew from politics in favour of law, he began to think seriously of getting a seat in Congress. His management of this affair indicates forcibly his entire faith in party-right, and his principle of _never_ advancing beyond his party. Of all the men of action known to history as illustrating great epochs, there never was a more thorough man of action than Lincoln, but the brain which inspired his action was always that of the people.

Through all his poverty, Lincoln was always just and generous. In 1843, while living with his wife for four dollars a-week, at a country tavern, he gave up a promissory-note for a large fee to an impoverished client who, after the trial, had lost a hand. He paid all his own debts, and generously aided his stepmother and other friends.

In 1846, Lincoln accepted the nomination for Congress. His Democratic opponent was Peter Cartwright, a celebrated pioneer Methodist preacher. It is a great proof of Lincoln’s popularity that he was elected by an unprecedented majority, though he was the only Whig Congressman from Illinois. At this session, his almost life-long adversary, Douglas, took a place in the Senate. Both houses shone with an array of great and brilliant names, and Lincoln, as the only representative of his party from his state, was in a critical and responsible situation. But he was no novice in legislation, and he acquitted himself bravely. He became a member of the Committee on Post Offices and Post Roads, and in that capacity made his first speech. He found it as easy a matter to address his new colleagues as his old clients. “I was about as badly scared,” he wrote to W. J. Herndon, “and no worse, as when I speak in court.” During this session, the United States were at war with Mexico, and Lincoln was, with his party, in a painful dilemma. They were opposed to the principle of the war, since they detested forcible acquisition of territory, and it was evident that Mexico was wanted by the South to extend the area of slavery. Yet they could not, in humanity, withhold supplies from the army in Mexico while fighting bravely. So Lincoln denounced the war, and yet voted the supplies--an inconsistency creditable to his heart, but which involved him in trouble with his constituents. But he struck the Administration a severe blow in what was really his first speech before the whole House. President Polk having declared, in a Message, that “the Mexicans had invaded our territory, and shed the blood of our citizens on our own soil,” Lincoln introduced what were called the famous “spot resolutions,” in which the President was invited in a series of satirical yet serious questions to indicate the spot where this outrage had been committed.

Lincoln was very busy this year. The Whig National Convention was to nominate a candidate for President on the 1st June, and he was to be one of its members. On July 27th, he delivered, in Congress, a speech as remarkable in some respects for solid sense and shrewdness as it was in others for eccentric drollery and scathing Western retorts. The second session, 1848-49, was quieter. At one time he proposed, as a substitute for a resolution that slavery be at once abolished by law in the district of Columbia, another, providing that the owners be paid for their slaves. If he did little in this session to attract attention, he made for himself a name, and was known as a powerful speaker and a rising man; but, after returning to Springfield, though a Whig President had been elected, and his own reputation greatly increased, he was thrown out of political employment until the year 1854. He made great efforts to secure the office of Commissioner of the General Land Office, but failed. President Fillmore, it is true, offered him the Governorship of Oregon, but Mrs. Lincoln induced him to decline it.

In 1850, his friends wished to nominate him for Congress, but he positively refused the honour. It is thought that he wished to establish himself in his profession for the sake of a support for his family, or that he had entered into a secret understanding with other candidates for Congress, who were to nominally oppose each other, but in reality secure election in turn by excluding rivals.[19] But it is most probable that he clearly foresaw at this time the tremendous struggle which was approaching between North and South, and wished to prepare himself for some great part in it. To engage in minor political battles and be defeated, as would probably be the case in his district, where his war-vote in Congress was still remembered to his disadvantage, would have seriously injured his future prospects of every kind. He said, in 1850, to his friend Stuart--“The time will come when we must all be Democrats or Abolitionists. When that time comes, my mind is made up. The slavery question can’t be compromised.”

Many interesting anecdotes of Lincoln’s legal experiences at this time have been preserved. In his first case, at Springfield, he simply admitted that all laws and precedents were in favour of his opponent, and, having stated them in detail, left the decision to the Court. He would never take an unjust, or mean, or a purely litigious case. When retained with a colleague, named Swett, to defend a man accused of murder, Lincoln became convinced of his client’s guilt, and said to his associate--“You must defend him--I cannot.” Mr. Swett obtained an acquittal, but Lincoln would take no part of the large fee which was paid. On one occasion, however, when one of his own friends of boyhood, John Armstrong, was indicted for a very atrocious murder, Lincoln, moved by the tears and entreaties of the aged mother of the prisoner, consented to plead his cause. It having been testified that, when the man was murdered, the full moon was shining high in the heavens, Lincoln, producing an almanac, proved that, on the night in question, there was in fact no moon at all. Those who were associated with him for years declare that they never knew a lawyer who was so moderate in his charges. Though he attained great reputation in his profession, the highest fee he ever received was 5,000 dollars. His strength lay entirely in shrewd common sense, in quickly mastering all the details of a case, and in ready eloquence or debate, for he had very little law-learning, and was averse to making researches. But his rare genius for promptly penetrating all the difficulties of a legal or political problem, which aided him so much as President, enabled him to deal with juries in a masterly manner. On one occasion, when thirty-four witnesses swore to a fact on one side, and exactly as many on the other, Mr. Lincoln proposed a very practical test to the jury--“If you were going to _bet_ on this case,” he said, “on which side would you lay a picayune?”[20]

Any poor person in distress for want of legal aid could always find a zealous friend in Lincoln. On one occasion, a poor old negro woman came to him and Mr. Herndon, complaining that her son had been imprisoned at New Orleans for simply going, in his ignorance, ashore, thereby breaking a disgraceful law which then existed, forbidding free men of colour from other states to enter Louisiana. Having been condemned to pay a fine, and being without money, the poor man was about to be sold for a slave. Messrs. Lincoln and Herndon, finding law of no avail, ransomed the prisoner out of their own pockets. In those days, a free-born native of a Northern state could, if of African descent, be seized and sold simply for setting foot on Southern soil.

Chapter IV.

Rise of the Southern Party--Formation of the Abolition and the Free Soil Parties--Judge Douglas and the Kansas-Nebraska Bill--Douglas defeated by Lincoln--Lincoln resigns as Candidate for Congress--Lincoln’s Letter on Slavery--The Bloomington Speech--The Fremont Campaign--Election of Buchanan--The Dred-Scott Decision.

The great storm of civil war which now threatened the American Ship of State had been long brewing. Year by year the party of slave-owners--small in number but strong in union, and unanimously devoted to the acquisition of political power--had progressed, until they saw before them the possibility of ruling the entire continent. To please them, the nation, after purchasing, had admitted as slave territory the immense regions of Louisiana and Florida, and in their interests a war had been waged with Mexico. But, so early as 1820, the North, alarmed at the incredible progress of slave-power, and observing that wherever it was established white labour was paralysed, and that society resolved itself at once into a small aristocracy, with a large number of blacks and poor whites who were systematically degraded,[21] attempted to check its territorial extension. There was a contest, which was finally settled by what was known as the Missouri Compromise, by which it was agreed that Missouri should be admitted as a slave state, but that in future all territory North and West of Missouri, above latitude 36° 30´, should be for ever free.[22]

[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN.]

While the inhabitants of the Eastern and Western States applied themselves to every development of industrial pursuits, art, and letters, the Southerners lived by agricultural slave-labour, and were entirely devoted to acquiring political power. The contest was unequal, and the result was that, before the Rebellion, the slave-holders--who, with their slaves, only constituted one-third of the population of the United States--had secured _two_-thirds of all the offices--civil, military, or naval--and had elected two-thirds of the Presidents. Law after law was passed, giving the slave-holders every advantage, until Governor Henry A. Wise, of Virginia, declared in Congress that slavery should pour itself abroad, and have no limit but the Southern Ocean. He also asserted that the best way to meet or answer Abolition arguments was _with death_. His house was afterwards, during the war, used for a negro school, under care of a New England Abolitionist. Large pecuniary rewards were offered by Governors of slave states for the persons--_i.e._, the lives--of eminent Northern anti-slavery men. Direct efforts were made to re-establish the slave-trade between Africa and the Southern States.

In 1839 the Abolition party was formed, which advocated the total abolition of slavery. This was going too far for the mass of the North, who hoped to live at peace with the South. But still there were many in both the Whig and Democratic parties who wished to see the advance of the slave power checked; and their delegates, meeting at Buffalo in June, 1848, formed the Free Soil party, opposed to the further extension of slavery, which rapidly grew in power. The struggle became violent. When the territory acquired by war from Mexico was to be admitted to the Union in 1846, David Wilmot, of Pennsylvania, offered a proviso to the Bill accepting the territory, to the effect that slavery should be unknown in it. There was a fierce debate for two years over this proviso, which was finally rejected. The most desperate legislation was adopted to make California a slave state, and when she decided by her own will to be free, the slave-holders opposed her admission to the Union. Finally, in 1850, the celebrated Compromise Measures were adopted. These were to the effect that California should be admitted free--that in New Mexico and Utah the people should decide for themselves as to slavery--and that such of Texas as was above latitude 36° 30´ should be free. To this, however, was tacked a new and more cruel fugitive slave law,[23] apparently to humiliate and annoy the free states, and to keep irritation alive.

But, on the 4th January, 1854, Judge Douglas introduced into the Senate of the United States a Bill known as the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, proposing to set aside the Missouri Compromise. This was passed, after a tremendous struggle, on May 22nd and the slave-party triumphed. Yet it proved their ruin, for it was the first decisive step to the strife which ended in civil war. It eventually destroyed Mr. Douglas, its originator. He is said to have repented the deed; and when it became evident that the Union was aroused, and that the Republican would be the winning party, Douglas went over to it. “He had long before invoked destruction on the ruthless hand which should disturb the compromise, and now he put forth his own ingenious hand to do the deed and to take the curse, in both of which he was eminently successful.” He was defeated by the honester and wiser Lincoln, and died a disappointed man.

To suit the slave-party, it was originally agreed, in 1820, that in future they, though so greatly inferior in number, should have half the territory of the Union. But as they found in time that population increased most rapidly in the free territories, the compromise of 1850 was arranged, by which the inhabitants of the new states were to decide for themselves in the matter. The result was an immediate and terrible turmoil. The legitimate dwellers in Kansas were almost all steady, law-abiding farmers who hated slavery. But, from Missouri and the neighbouring slave states, there was poured in, by means of committees and funds raised in the South, a vast number of “Border ruffians,” or desperadoes, who would remain in Kansas only long enough to vote illegally, or to rob and ravage, and then retire. The North, on the other hand, exasperated by these outrages, sent numbers of emigrants to Kansas to support the legitimate settlers, and the result was a virtual civil war, which was the more irritating because President Buchanan did all in his power to aid the Border ruffians, and crush the legitimate settlers. Day by day it became evident that the Kansas-Nebraska Bill had been passed for the purpose of enabling the South to quit the Union, and ere long this was openly avowed by the slave-holding press and politicians. The entire North was now fiercely irritated. Judge Douglas, returning westwards, tried to speak at Chicago, but was hissed down. At the state fair in Springfield, Illinois, Oct. 4th, 1854, he spoke in defence of the Nebraska Bill, but was replied to by Lincoln “with such power as he had never exhibited before.” He was no longer the orator he had been, “but a newer and greater Lincoln, the like of whom no one in that vast multitude had ever heard.” “The Nebraska Bill,” says W. H. Herndon, “was shivered, and, like a tree of the forest, was torn and rent asunder by hot bolts of truth.” Douglas was crushed, and his brief reply was a spiritless failure. From this time forth, Lincoln’s speeches were as unexceptional in form as they were vigorous and logical. Never was there a man of whom it could be said with so much truth that he always rose to the occasion, however great, however unprecedented its demands on his power might be.

From Springfield Lincoln followed Douglas to Peoria, where he delivered, in debate, another great speech. Not liking slavery in itself, Lincoln was willing to let it alone under the old compromise, but he would never suffer its introduction to new territories, and he made it clear as day that Douglas, by opening the flood-gate of slavery on free soil, had let loose a torrent which, if unchecked, would sweep everything to destruction. He had previously, at Springfield, disclosed the fallacy of Douglas’s “great principle” by a single sentence. “I admit that the emigrant to Kansas is competent to govern himself, but I deny his right to govern any other person without that person’s consent.” Such arguments were overwhelming, and Douglas, the Giant of the West and the foremost politician in America, felt that he had met his master at his own peculiar weapons--oratory and debate. He sent for Lincoln, and proposed that both should refrain from speaking during the campaign, and Lincoln, conscious of superior strength, agreed. Douglas did speak once more, however, but Lincoln remained silent.

At the end of this campaign, Lincoln was elected to the Legislature of Illinois. As the Legislature was about to elect a United States Senator, Lincoln resigned to become a candidate. But at the election--there being three candidates--Lincoln, finding that by resigning he could make it sure that an _anti_-Nebraska man (Judge Trumbull) could be elected, and that there was some uncertainty as to his own success, resigned, in the noblest manner, in favour of his principles and party. It had been the ambition of his life to become a United States Senator. The result of this sacrifice, says Holland, was that, when the Republican party was soon after regularly organised, Lincoln became their foremost man.

Meanwhile, the strife in Kansas grew more desperate. One Governor after another was appointed to the state, for the express purpose of turning it over to slavery; but the outrageous frauds practised at the election were too much for Mr. Reeder and his successor, Shannon, and even for his follower, Robert J. Walker, a man not over-scrupulous. Walker, like many other Democrats, adroitly turned with the tide, but too late.

During 1855, the old parties were breaking up, and the new Republican one was gathering with great rapidity. Two separate governments or legislatures had formed in Kansas, one manifestly and boldly fraudulent in favour of slavery, and the other settled at Topeka, headed by Governor Reeder, consisting of legitimate settlers. At this time, Aug. 24th, 1855, Lincoln wrote to his friend Speed a letter, in which he discussed slavery with great shrewdness. In answer to the standing Southern argument, that slavery did not concern Northern people, and that it was none of their business, he replied--

“In 1841, you and I had together a tedious low-water trip on a steamboat, from Louisville to St. Louis. You may remember as well as I do that, from Louisville to the mouth of the Ohio, there were on board ten or a dozen slaves shackled with irons. That sight was a continual torment to me, and I see something like it every time I touch the Ohio, or any other slave-border. It is not fair for you to assume that I have no interest in a thing which has, and continually exercises, the power of making me miserable. You ought rather to appreciate how much the great body of the Northern people do crucify their feelings, in order to maintain their loyalty to the Constitution and the Union. I do oppose the extension of slavery, because my judgment and feelings so prompt me; and I am under no obligations to the contrary. If for this you and I must differ, differ we must.”

On May 29th, 1856, Lincoln attended a meeting at Bloomington, Illinois, where, with his powerful assistance, the Republican party of the state was organised, and delegates were appointed to the National Republican Convention which was to be held on the 17th of the following month at Philadelphia. The speech which he made on this occasion was of extraordinary power. From this day he was regarded by the Republicans of the West as their leader. Therefore, in the Republican National Convention of 1856, at Philadelphia, the Illinois delegation presented his name for the Vice-Presidency. He received a complimentary vote of 110 votes, the successful candidate, Dayton, having 259. This, however, was his formal introduction to the nation. At this convention, John C. Fremont, a plausible political pretender, was nominated for the Presidency. As a candidate for Presidential elector, Lincoln again took the field. He made a thorough and energetic canvass, and his greatly improved powers of oratory now manifested themselves. Probably no man in the country, says Lamon, discussed the main questions at issue in a manner more original and persuasive. Buchanan, the Democratic candidate, was elected by a small majority. The Republican vote was largely increased by many offensive and inhuman enforcements of the fugitive slave law,[24] for it seemed at this time as if the South had gone mad, and was resolved to do all in its power to irritate the North into war.

On March 4th, 1857, Buchanan, the last Slave-President, was inaugurated, and, a few days after, Judge Taney, of the Supreme Court, rendered the famous “Dred Scott” decision relative to a fugitive negro slave of that name, to the effect that a man of African slave descent could not be a citizen of the United States--that the prohibition of slavery was unconstitutional, and that it existed by the Constitution in all the territories. Judge Taney, in fact, declared that the negro had no rights which the white man was bound to respect. “Against the Constitution--against the memory of the nation--against a previous decision--against a series of enactments--he decided that the slave is property, and that the Constitution upholds it against every other property.”[25] This decision was regarded as an outrage even by many old Democrats. In the same year the slavery-party in Kansas passed, by fraud and violence, the celebrated Lecompton Constitution, upholding slavery. By this time, Judge Douglas, the author of all this mischief, wishing to be re-elected to the Senate, and finding that there was no chance for him as a pro-slavery candidate, was suddenly seized with indignation at the Lecompton affair, which he pronounced an outrage. The result was the division of the Democratic party. He then made a powerful speech at Springfield, defending his course with great shrewdness, but it was, as usual, blown to the winds by a reply from Lincoln. Douglas suddenly became a zealous “Free Soiler,” after the manner admirably burlesqued by “Petroleum Nasby,”[26] when that worthy found it was necessary to become an anti-slavery man to keep his post-office. At this time Douglas made his famous assertion that he did not care whether slavery was voted up or down; and in the following year, April 30th, 1858, Congress passed the English Bill, by which the people of Kansas were offered heavy bribes in land if they would accept the Lecompton Constitution, but which the people rejected by an immense majority.

On the 16th June, 1858, a Republican State Convention at Springfield nominated Lincoln for the Senate, and on the 17th he delivered a bold speech, soon to be known far and wide as the celebrated “House divided against itself” speech. It began with these words--

“If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it. We are now far on into the fifth year since a policy was initiated with the avowed object and confident promise of putting an end to slavery agitation. Under the operation of that policy, that agitation had not only not ceased, but has constantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease until a crisis shall have been reached and passed. ‘A house divided against itself cannot stand.’ I believe this Government cannot endure permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not expect the house to fall--but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States--old as well as new, North as well as South.

“Have we no tendency to the latter condition? Let any one who doubts carefully contemplate that now almost complete legal combination--piece of machinery, so to speak--compounded of the Nebraska doctrine and the Dred Scott decision. Let him consider not only what work the machinery is adapted to do, and how well adapted, but also let him study the history of its construction, and trace, if he can, or rather fail, if he can, to trace the evidences of design and concert of action among its chief master-workers from the beginning.”

These were awful words to the world, and with awe were they received. Lincoln was the first man among the “moderates” who had dared to speak so plainly. His friends were angry, but in due time this tremendous speech had the right effect, for it announced the truth. Meanwhile, Lincoln and Douglas were again paired together as rivals, and at one place the latter put to his adversary a series of questions, which were promptly answered. In return, Lincoln gave Douglas four others, by one of which he was asked if the people of a United States territory could in any lawful way, against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its limits? To which Douglas replied that the people of a territory _had_ the lawful means to exclude slavery by legislative action. This reply brought Douglas into direct antagonism with the pro-slavery men. He hoped, by establishing a “platform” of his own, to head so many Democrats that the Republicans would welcome his accession, and make him President. But Lincoln, by these questions, and by his unyielding attacks, weakened him to his ruin. It is true that Judge Douglas gained his seat in the Senate, but it was by an old and unjust law in the Legislature, as Lincoln really had four thousand majority.

The speeches which Lincoln delivered during this campaign, and which were afterwards published with those of Douglas, were so refined and masterly that many believed they had been revised for him by able friends. But from this time all his oratory indicated an advance in all respects. He was now bent on great things.

Chapter V.

Causes of Lincoln’s Nomination to the Presidency--His Lectures in New York, &c.--The first Nomination and the Fence Rails--The Nomination at Chicago--Elected President--Office-seekers and Appointments--Lincoln’s Impartiality--The South determined to Secede--Fears for Lincoln’s Life.

It is an almost invariable law of stern equity in the United States, as it must be in all true republics, that the citizen who has distinguished himself by great services must not expect really great rewards. The celebrity which he has gained seems, in a commonwealth, where all are ambitious of distinction, to be sufficient recompense. It is true that at times some overwhelming favourite, generally a military hero, is made an exception; but there are few very ambitious civilians who do not realise that a prophet is without great honour in his own country. Other instances may occur where aspiring men have carefully concealed their hopes, and of such was Abraham Lincoln. Perhaps his case is best stated by Lamon, who declares that he had all the requisites of an available candidate for the Presidency, chiefly because he had not been sufficiently prominent in national politics to excite the jealousies of powerful rivals. In order to defeat one another, these rivals will put forward some comparatively unknown man, and thus Lincoln was greatly indebted to the jealousy with which Horace Greeley, a New York politician, regarded his rival, W. H. Seward. Lincoln’s abilities were very great, “but he knew that becoming modesty in a great man was about as needful as anything else.” Therefore, when his friend Pickett suggested that he might aspire to the Chief Magistracy, he replied, “I do not think I am fit for the Presidency.”

But he had friends who thought differently, and in the winter of 1859, Jackson Grimshaw, Mr. Hatch, the Secretary of State, and Messrs. Bushnell, Judd, and Peck, held a meeting, and, after a little persuasion, induced Lincoln to allow them to put him forward as a candidate for the great office. In October, 1859, Lincoln received an invitation from a committee of citizens to give a lecture in New York.[27] He was much pleased with this intimation that he was well known in “the East,” and wrote out with great care a political address, which, when delivered, was warmly praised by the newspapers, one of which, the “Tribune,” edited by Horace Greeley, declared that no man ever before made such an impression on his first appeal to a New York audience. The subject of the discourse was most logical, vigorous, and masterly comment upon an assertion which Judge Douglas had made, to the effect that the framers of the Constitution had understood and approved of slavery. No better vindication of the rights of the Republican party to be considered as expressing and carrying out in all respects the opinions of Washington and of the framers of the Constitution, was ever set forth. From New York he went to New England, lecturing in many cities, and everywhere verifying what was said of him in the “Manchester Mirror,” that he spoke with great fairness, candour, and with wonderful interest. “He did not abuse the South, the Administration, or the Democrats. He is far from prepossessing in personal appearance, and his voice is disagreeable, yet he wins your attention and good-will from the start. His sense of the ludicrous is very keen, and an exhibition of that is the clincher of all his arguments--not the ludicrous acts of persons, but ludicrous ideas. Hence he is never offensive, and steals away willingly into his train of belief persons who were opposed to him. For the first half-hour his opponents would agree with every word he uttered, and from that point he began to lead them off, little by little, until it seemed as if he had got them all into his fold.”

Lincoln was now approaching with great rapidity the summit of his wishes. On May 9th and 10th the Republican State Convention met at Springfield for the purpose of nominating a candidate for the Presidency, and it is said that Lincoln did not appear to have had any idea that any business relative to himself was to be transacted. For it is unquestionable that, while very ambitious, he was at the same time remarkably modest. When he went to lecture in New York, and the press reporters asked him for “slips,” or copies of his speech, he was astonished, not feeling sure whether the newspapers would care to publish it. At this Convention, he was “sitting on his heels” in a back part of the room, and the Governor of Illinois, as soon as the meeting was organised, rose and said--“I am informed that a distinguished citizen of Illinois, and one whom Illinois will ever delight to honour, is present, and I wish to move that this body invite him to a seat on the stand.” And, pausing, he exclaimed, “Abraham Lincoln.” There was tremendous applause, and the mob seizing Lincoln, raised him in their arms, and bore him, sturdily resisting, to the platform. A gentleman who was present said--“I then thought him one of the most diffident and worst-plagued men I ever saw.” The next proceeding was most amusing and characteristic, it being the entrance of “Old John Hanks,” with two fence-rails bearing the inscription--_Two Rails from a lot made by Abraham Lincoln and John Hanks in the Sangamon bottom in the year 1830_. The end was that Lincoln was the declared candidate of his state for the Presidency.

But there were other candidates from other states, and at the great Convention in Chicago, on May 16th, there was as fierce intriguing and as much shrewdness shown as ever attended the election of a Pope. After publishing the “platform,” or declaration of the principles of the Republican party--which was in the main a stern denunciation of all further extension of slavery--with a declaration in favour of protection, the rights of foreign citizens, and a Pacific railroad, the Convention proceeded to the main business. It was soon apparent that the real strife lay between W. H. Seward, of New York, and Abraham Lincoln. It would avail little to expose all the influences of trickery and enmity resorted to by the friends of either candidate on this occasion--suffice it to say that, eventually, Lincoln received the nomination, which was the prelude to the most eventful election ever witnessed in America. What followed has been well described by Lamon.

“All that day, and all the day previous, Mr. Lincoln was at Springfield, trying to behave as usual, but watching, with nervous anxiety, the proceedings of the Convention as they were reported by telegraph. On both days he played a great deal at fives in a ball-alley. It is probable that he took this physical mode of working off or keeping down the excitement that threatened to possess him. About nine o’clock in the morning, Mr. Lincoln came to the office of Lincoln and Herndon. Mr. Baker entered, with a telegram which said the names of the candidates had been announced, and that Mr. Lincoln’s had been received with more applause than any other. When the news of the first ballot came over the wire, it was apparent to all present that Mr. Lincoln thought it very favourable. He believed if Mr. Seward failed to get the nomination, or to come very near it, on the first ballot, he would fail altogether. Presently, news of the second ballot arrived, and then Mr. Lincoln showed by his manner that he considered the contest no longer doubtful. ‘I’ve got him,’ said he. When the decisive despatch at length arrived, there was great commotion. Mr. Lincoln seemed to be calm, but a close observer could detect in his countenance the indications of deep emotion. In the meantime, cheers for Lincoln swelled up from the streets, and began to be heard through the town. Some one remarked, ‘Mr. Lincoln, I suppose now we will soon have a book containing your life.’ ‘There is not much,’ he replied, ‘in my past life about which to write a book, as it seems to me.’ Having received the hearty congratulations of the company in the office, he descended to the street, where he was immediately surrounded by Irish and American citizens; and, so long as he was willing to receive it, there was great hand-shaking and felicitating. ‘Gentlemen,’ said the great man, with a happy twinkle in his eye, ‘you had better come up and shake my hand while you can; honours elevate some men, you know.’ But he soon bethought him of a person who was of more importance to him than all this crowd. Looking towards his house, he said--‘Well, gentlemen, there is a little short woman at our house who is probably more interested in this despatch than I am; and, if you will excuse me, I will take it up and let her see it.’”

The division caused by Douglas in the Democratic party to further his own personal ambition, utterly destroyed its power for a long time. The result was a division--one convention nominating Judge Douglas for the Presidency, with Mr. Johnson, of Georgia, as Vice-President; and the other, John C. Breckinridge, of Kentucky, with Joseph Lane, of Oregon, for the second office. Still another party, the Constitutional Union party, nominated John Bell, of Tennessee, and Edward Everett, of Massachusetts, for President and Vice-President. Thus there were four rival armies in the political field, soon to be merged into two in real strife. On Nov. 6th, 1860, Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States, receiving 1,857,610 votes; Douglas had 1,291,574; Breckinridge, 850,082; Bell, 646,124. Of all the votes really cast, there was a majority of 930,170 against Lincoln--a fact which was afterwards continually urged by the Southern party, which called him the Minority President. But when the electors who are chosen to elect the President met, they gave Lincoln 180 votes; Breckinridge, 72; Bell, 30; while Douglas, who might, beyond question, have been the successful candidate had he been less crafty, received only 12. The strife between him and Lincoln had been like that between the giant and the hero in the Norse mythology, wherein the two gave to each other riddles, on the successful answers to which their lives depended. Judge Douglas strove to entrap Lincoln with a long series of questions which were easily eluded, but one was demanded of the questioner himself, and the answer he gave to it proved his destruction.

The immediate result of Lincoln’s election was such a rush of hungry politicians seeking office as had never before been witnessed. As every appointment in the United States, from the smallest post-office to a Secretaryship, is in the direct gift of the President, the newly-elected found himself attacked by thousands of place-hunters, ready to prove that they were the most deserving men in the world for reward; and if they did not, as “Artemus Ward” declares, come down the chimneys of the White House to interview him, they at least besieged him with such pertinacity, and made him so thoroughly wretched, that he is said to have at last replied to one man who insisted that it was really to his exertions that the President owed his election--“If that be so, I wonder you are not ashamed to look me in the face for getting me into such an abominable situation.”

From his own good nature, and from a sincere desire to really deserve his popular name of Honest Old Abe, Lincoln determined to appoint the best men to office, irrespective of party. Hoping against hope to preserve the Union, he would have given place in his Cabinet to Southern Democrats as well as to Northern Republicans. But as soon as it was understood that he was elected, and that the country would have a President opposed to the extension of slavery, the South began to prepare to leave the Union, and for war. It was in vain that Lincoln and the great majority of his party made it clear as possible that, rather than see the country destroyed by war and by disunion, they would leave slavery as it was. This did not suit the views of the “rule-or-ruin” party of the South; and as secession from the Federal Union became a fixed fact, their entire press and all their politicians declared that their object was not merely to build up a Southern Confederacy, but to legislate so as to destroy the industry of the North, and break the old Union into a thousand conflicting independent governments. Therefore, Lincoln, in intending to offer seats in the Cabinet to Alexander H. Stephens, James Guthrie, of Kentucky, and John A. Gilmer, of North Carolina, made--if sincere--a great mistake, though one in every way creditable to his heart and his courtesy. The truth was, that the South had for four years unanimously determined to secede, and was actually seceding; while the North, which had gone beyond the extreme limits of endurance and of justice itself to conciliate the South, could not believe that fellow-countrymen and brothers seriously intended war. For it was predetermined and announced by the Southern press that, unless the Federal Government would make concessions beyond all reason, and put itself in the position of a disgraced and conquered state, there must be war.

As the terrible darkness began to gather, and the storm-signals to appear, Lincoln sought for temporary relief in visiting his stepmother and other old friends and relatives in Coles County. The meeting with her whom he had always regarded as his mother was very touching; it was the more affecting because she, to whom he was the dearest on earth, was under an impression, which time rendered prophetic, that he would, as President, be assassinated. This anticipation spread among his friends, who vied with one another in gloomy suggestions of many forms of murder--while one very zealous prophet, who had fixed on poison as the means by which Lincoln would die, urged him to take as a cook from home “one among his own female friends.”

Chapter VI.

A Suspected Conspiracy--Lincoln’s Departure for Washington--His Speeches at Springfield and on the road to the National Capital--Breaking out of the Rebellion--Treachery of President Buchanan--Treason in the Cabinet--Jefferson Davis’s Message--Threats of Massacre and Ruin to the North--Southern Sympathisers--Lincoln’s Inaugural Address--The Cabinet--The Days of Doubt and of Darkness.

It was unfortunate for Lincoln that he listened to the predictions of his alarmed friends. So generally did the idea prevail that an effort would be made to kill him on his way to Washington, that a few fellows of the lower class in Baltimore, headed by a barber named Ferrandina, thinking to gain a little notoriety--as they actually did get some money from Southern sympathisers--gave out that they intended to murder Mr. Lincoln on his journey to Washington. Immediately a number of detectives was set to work; and as everybody seemed to wish to find a plot, a plot was found, or imagined, and Lincoln was persuaded to pass privately and disguised on a special train from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, to Washington, where he arrived February 23rd, 1861. Before leaving Springfield, he addressed his friends at the moment of parting, at the railway station, in a speech of impressive simplicity.

“FRIENDS,--No one who has never been placed in a like position can understand my feelings at this hour, nor the oppressive sadness I feel at this parting. For more than a quarter of a century I have lived among you, and during all that time I have received nothing but kindness at your hands. Here I have lived from youth until now I am an old man; here the most sacred ties of earth were assumed; here all my children were born, and here one of them lies buried. To you, dear friends, I owe all that I have, all that I am. All the strange, chequered past seems now to crowd upon my mind. To-day I leave you. I go to assume a task more difficult than that which devolved upon Washington. Unless the great God who assisted him shall be with me and aid me, I must fail; but if the same omniscient mind and almighty arm that directed and protected him shall guide and support me, I shall not fail--I shall succeed. Let us all pray that the God of our fathers may not forsake us now. To Him I commend you all. Permit me to ask that with equal sincerity and faith you will invoke His wisdom and guidance for me. With these few words I must leave you, for how long I know not. Friends, one and all, I must now bid you an affectionate farewell.”

It may be observed that in this speech Lincoln, notwithstanding his conciliatory offers to the South, apprehended a terrible war, and that when speaking from the heart he showed himself a religious man. If he ever spoke in earnest it was on this occasion. One who had heard him a hundred times declared that he never saw him so profoundly affected, nor did he ever utter an address which seemed so full of simple and touching eloquence as this. It left his audience deeply affected; but the same people were more deeply moved at his return. “At eight o’clock,” says Lamon, “the train rolled out of Springfield amid the cheers of the populace. Four years later, a funeral train, covered with the emblems of splendid mourning, rolled into the same city, bearing a corpse, whose obsequies were being celebrated in every part of the civilised world.”

Lincoln made several speeches at different places along his route from Springfield to Philadelphia, and in all he freely discussed the difficulties of the political crisis, expressing himself to the effect that there was really no danger or no crisis, since he was resolved, with all the Union-loving men of the North, to grant the South all its rights. But these addresses were not all sugar and rose-water. At Philadelphia he said--

“Now, in my view of the present aspect of affairs, there need be no bloodshed or war. There is no necessity for it I am not in favour of such a course; and I may say in advance, that there will be no blood shed, unless it be forced upon the Government, and then it will be compelled to act in self-defence.”

Lincoln had declared that the duties which would devolve upon him would be greater than those which had devolved upon any American since Washington. During this journey, the wisdom, firmness, and ready tact of his speeches already indicated that he would perform these duties of statesmanship in a masterly manner. He was received courteously by immense multitudes; but at this time so very little was known of him beyond the fact that he was called Honest Old Abe the Rail-splitter, and that he had sprung from that most illiterate source, a poor Southern backwoods family, that even his political friends went to hear him with misgivings or with shame. There was a general impression that the Republican party had gained a victory by truckling to the mob, and by elevating one of its roughest types to leadership. And the gaunt, uncouth appearance of the President-elect fully confirmed this opinion. But when he spoke, it was as if a spell had been removed; the disguise of Odin fell away, and people knew the Great Man, called to struggle with and conquer the rebellious giants--a hero coming with the right strength at the right time.

It was at this time that the conspiracy, which had been preparing in earnest for thirty years, and which the North for as many years refused to suspect, had burst forth. South Carolina had declared that if Lincoln was elected she would secede, and on the 17th December, 1860, she did so, true to her word if not to her duty. In quick succession six States followed her, “there being little or no struggle, in those which lay upon the Gulf, against the wild tornado of excitement in favour of rebellion.” “In the Border States,” says Arnold--“in Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Missouri--there was, however, a terrible contest.” The Union ultimately triumphed in Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri, while the rebels carried Tennessee with great difficulty. Virginia seceded on April 17th, 1861, and North Carolina on the 20th of May. Everything had for years been made ready for them. President Buchanan, who preceded Lincoln--a man of feeble mind, and entirely devoted to the South--had either suffered the rebels to do all in their power to facilitate secession, or had directly aided them. The Secretary of War, John B. Floyd, who became a noted rebel, had for months been at work to paralyse the Northern army. He ordered 115,000 muskets to be made in Northern arsenals at the expense of the Federal Government, and sent them all to the South, with vast numbers of cannon, mortars, ammunition, and munitions of war. The army, reduced to 16,000 men, was sent to remote parts of the country, and as the great majority of its officers were Southern men, they of course resigned their commissions, and went over to the Southern Confederacy. Howell Cobb of Georgia, afterwards a rebel general, was Secretary of the Treasury, and, as his contribution to the Southern cause, did his utmost, and with great success, to cause ruin in his department, to injure the national credit, and empty the treasury. In fact, the whole Cabinet, with the supple President for a willing tool, were busy for months in doing all in their power to utterly break up the Government, to support which they had pledged their faith in God and their honour as gentlemen. Linked with them in disgrace were all those who, after uniting in holding an election for President, refused to abide by its results. On the 20th Nov., 1860, the Attorney-General of the United States, Jer. S. Black, gave, as his aid to treason, the official opinion that “Congress had no right to carry on war against any State, either to prevent a threatened violation of the Constitution, or to enforce an acknowledgment that the Government of the United States was supreme;” and to use the words of Raymond, “it soon became evident that the President adopted this theory as the basis and guide of his executive action.”

On the night of January 5th, 1861, the leading conspirators, Jefferson Davis, with Senators Toombs, Iverson, Slidell, Benjamin, Wigfall, and others, held a meeting, at which it was resolved that the South should secede, but that all the seceding senators and representatives should retain their seats as long as possible, in order to inflict injury to the last on the Government which they had officially pledged themselves to protect. At the suggestion probably of Mr. Benjamin, all who retired were careful to draw not only their pay, but also to spoil the Egyptians by taking all the stationery, documents, and “mileage,” or allowance for travelling expenses, on which they could lay their hands. Only two of all the Slave State representatives remained true--Mr. Bouligny from New Orleans, and Andrew J. Hamilton from Texas. When President Lincoln came to Washington, it was indeed to enter a house divided against itself, tottering to its fall, its inner chambers a mass of ruin.

The seven States which had seceded sent delegates, which met at Montgomery, Alabama, February 4th, 1861, and organised a government and constitution similar to that of the United States, under which Jefferson Davis was President, and Alexander H. Stephens Vice-President. No one had threatened the new Southern Government, and at this stage the North would have suffered it to withdraw in peace from the Union, so great was the dread of a civil war. But the South did not want peace. Every Southern newspaper, every rebel orator, was now furiously demanding of the North the most humiliating concessions, and threatening bloodshed as the alternative. While President Lincoln, in his Inaugural Address, spoke with the most Christian forbearance of the South, Jefferson Davis, in his, assumed all the horrors of civil war as a foregone conclusion. He said, that if they were permitted to secede quietly, all would be well. If forced to fight, they could and would maintain their position by the sword, and would avail themselves to the utmost of the liberties of war. He expected that the North would be the theatre of war, but no Northern city ever felt the rebel sword, while there was not one in the South which did not suffer terribly from the effects of war. Never in history was the awful curse _Væ victis_ so freely invoked by those who were destined to be conquered.

It was characteristic of Lincoln to illustrate his views on all subjects by anecdotes, which were so aptly put as to present in a few words the full force of his argument. Immediately after his election, when the world was vexed with the rumours of war, he was asked what he intended to do when he got to Washington? “That,” he replied, “puts me in mind of a little story. There was once a clergyman, who expected during the course of his next day’s riding to cross the Fox River, at a time when the stream would be swollen by a spring freshet, making the passage extremely dangerous. On being asked by anxious friends if he was not afraid, and what he intended to do, the clergyman calmly replied, ‘I have travelled this country a great deal, and I can assure you that I have no intention of trying to cross Fox River _until I get to it_.’” The dangers of the political river which Mr. Lincoln was to cross were very great. It is usual in England to regard the struggle of the North with the South during the Rebellion as that of a great power with a lesser one, and sympathy was in consequence given to the so-called weaker side. But the strictest truth shows that the Union party, what with the Copperheads, or sympathisers with the South, at home, and with open foes in the field, was never at any time much more than equal to either branch of the enemy, and that, far from being the strongest in numbers, it was as one to two. Those in its ranks who secretly aided the enemy were numerous and powerful. The Union armies were sometimes led by generals whose hearts were with the foe; and for months after the war broke out, the entire telegraph service of the Union was, owing to the treachery of officials, entirely at the service of the Confederates.

It must be fairly admitted, and distinctly borne in mind, that the South had at least good apparent reason for believing that the North would yield to any demands, and was so corrupt that it would crumble at a touch into numberless petty, warring States, while the Confederacy, firm and united, would eventually master them all, and rule the Continent. For years, leaders like President Buchanan had been their most submissive tools; and the number of men in the North who were willing to grant them everything very nearly equalled that of the Republican party. From the beginning they were assured by the press and leaders of the Democrats, or Copperheads, that they would soon conquer, and receive material aid from Northern sympathisers. And there were in all the Northern cities many of these, who were eagerly awaiting a breaking-up of the Union, in order that they might profit by its ruin. Thus, immediately after the secession of South Carolina, Fernando Wood, Mayor of New York, issued a proclamation, in which he recommended that it should secede, and become a “free city.” All over the country, Democrats like Wood were looking forward to revolutions in which something might be picked up, and not a few really spoke of the revival of titles of nobility. All of these prospective governors of lordly Baratarias avowed sympathy with the South. It was chiefly by reliance on these Northern sympathisers that the Confederacy was led to its ruin. President Lincoln found himself in command of a beleagured fortress which had been systematically stripped and injured by his predecessor, a powerful foe storming without, and nearly half his men doing their utmost to aid the enemy from within.

On the 4th March, 1861, Lincoln took the oath to fulfil his duties as President, and delivered his inaugural address. In this he began by asserting that he had no intention of interfering with slavery as it existed, or of interfering in any way with the rights of the South, and urged that, by law, fugitive slaves must be restored to their owners. In reference to the efforts being made to break up the Union, he maintained that, by universal law and by the Constitution, the union of the States must be perpetual. “It is safe to assert,” he declared, “that no government proper ever had a provision in its organic law for its own termination.” With great wisdom, and in the most temperate language, he pointed out the impossibility of any _government_, in the true sense of the word, being liable to dissolution because a party wished it. One party to a contract may violate or break it, but it requires all to lawfully rescind it.

“I therefore consider that, in view of the Constitution and the laws, the Union is unbroken; and to the extent of my ability, I shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, that the laws of the Union be faithfully executed in all the States. Doing this I deem to be only a simple duty on my part; and I shall perform it as far as practicable, unless my rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the requisite means, or in some authoritative manner direct the contrary.”

He asserted that the power confided to him would be used to hold and possess all Government property and collect duties; but went so far in conciliation as to declare, that wherever hostility to the United States should be so great and universal as to prevent competent resident citizens from holding the Federal offices, there would be no attempt to force obnoxious strangers among the people for that object. Where the enforcement of such matters, though legally right, might be irritating and nearly impracticable, he would deem it better to forego for a time the uses of such offices. He pointed out that the principle of secession was simply that of anarchy; that to admit the claim of a minority would be to destroy any government; while he indicated with great intelligence the precise limits of the functions of the Supreme Court. And he briefly explained the impossibility of a divided Union existing, save in a jarring and ruinous manner. “Physically speaking,” he said, “we cannot separate. We cannot remove our respective sections from each other, nor build an impassable wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced, and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other, but the different parts of our country cannot do this. They cannot but remain face to face; and intercourse either amicable or hostile must continue between them. Why should there not be,” he added, “a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better or equal hope in the world? In our present differences, is either party without faith of being in the right? If the Mighty Ruler of Nations, with His eternal truth and justice, be on your side of the North, or on yours of the South, that truth and that justice will surely prevail by the judgment of this great tribunal of the American people.”

It has been well said that this address was the wisest utterance of the time. Yet it was, with all its gentle and conciliatory feelings, at once misrepresented through the South as a malignant and tyrannical threat of war; for to such a pitch of irritability and arrogance had the entire Southern party been raised, that any words from a Northern ruler, not expressive of the utmost devotion to their interests, seemed literally like insult. It was not enough to promise them to be bound by law, when they held that the only law should be their own will.

To those who lived through the dark and dreadful days which preceded the outburst of the war, every memory is like that of one who has passed through the valley of the shadow of death. It was known that the enemy was coming from abroad; yet there were few who could really regard him as an enemy, for it was as when a brother advances to slay a brother, and the victim, not believing in the threat, rises to throw himself into the murderer’s arms. And vigorous defence was further paralysed by the feeling that traitors were everywhere at work--in the army, in the Cabinet, in the family circle.

President Lincoln proceeded at once to form his Cabinet. It consisted of William H. Seward--who had been his most formidable competitor at the Chicago Convention--who became Secretary of State; Simon Cameron--whose appointment proved as discreditable to Mr. Lincoln as to the country--as Secretary of War; Salmon P. Chase, Secretary of the Treasury; Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy; Caleb B. Smith, Secretary of the Interior; Montgomery Blair, Postmaster-General; and Edward Bates, Attorney-General. It was well for the President that these were all, except Cameron, wise and honest men, for the situation of the country was one of doubt, danger, and disorganisation. In Congress, in every drawing-room, there were people who boldly asserted and believed in the words of a rebel, expressed to B. F. Butler--that “the North could not fight; that the South had too many allies there.” “You have friends,” said Butler, “in the North who will stand by you as long as you fight your battles in the Union; but the moment you fire on the flag, the Northern people will be a unit against you. And you may be assured, if war comes, slavery _ends_.” Orators and editors in the North proclaimed, in the boldest manner, that the Union must go to fragments and ruin, and that the only hope of safety lay in suffering the South to take the lead, and in humbly following her. The number of these despairing people--or Croakers, as they were called--was very great; they believed that Republicanism had proved itself a failure, and that on slavery alone could a firm government be based. Open treason was unpunished; it was boldly said that Southern armies would soon be on Northern soil; the New Administration seemed to be without a basis; in those days, no men except rebels seemed to know what to do.

Chapter VII.

Mr. Seward refuses to meet the Rebel Commissioners--Lincoln’s Forbearance--Fort Sumter--Call for 75,000 Troops--Troubles in Maryland--Administrative Prudence--Judge Douglas--Increase of the Army--Winthrop and Ellsworth--Bull Run--General M‘Clellan.

It was on the 12th of March, 1861, that the rebel or Confederate States sent Commissioners to the United States to adjust matters in reference to secession. Mr. Seward refused to receive them, on the ground that they _had not withdrawn_ from the Union, and were unable to do so unless it were by the authority of a National Convention acting according to the Constitution of the United States. On the 9th of April the Commissioners left, declaring in a letter that “they accepted the gage of battle.” As yet there was no decided policy in the North, and prominent Democrats like Douglas were not in favour of compelling the seceding States to remain. Mr. Everett was preaching love, forgiveness, and union, while the Confederate Government was seizing on “all the arsenals, forts, custom-houses, post-offices, ships, ordnance, and material of war belonging to the United States, within the seceding States.” In fact, the South knew exactly what it meant to do, and was doing it vigorously, while the North was entirely undecided. In the spring of 1861, Congress had adjourned without making any preparation for the tremendous and imminent crisis.

But the entire South had not as yet seceded. The Border States were not in favour of war. In the words of Arnold, “to arouse sectional feeling and prejudice, and secure co-operation and unanimity, it was deemed necessary to precipitate measures and bring on a conflict of arms.” It was generally felt that the first blood shed would bring all the Slave States into union. The anti-war party was so powerful in the North, that it now appears almost certain that, if President Lincoln had proceeded at once to put down the rebellion with a strong hand, there would have been a counter-rebellion in the North. For not doing this he was bitterly blamed, but time has justified him. By his forbearance, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri were undoubtedly kept in the Federal Union. His wisdom was also shown in two other respects, as soon as it was possible to do so. There had existed for years in New York an immense slave-trading business, headed by a Spaniard named Juarez. Vessels were bought almost openly, and Government officials were bribed to let these pirates loose. This infamous traffic was very soon brought to an end, so far as the United States were concerned. Another task, which was rapidly and well performed, was the “sifting out” of rebels, or rebel sympathisers, from Government offices, where they abounded and acted as spies. Even General Scott, an old man full of honour, who was at the head of the army, though true to the Union, was Southern by sympathy and opposed to coercion, and most of the officers of the army were like him in this respect.

The refusal of Mr. Seward to treat with the rebel government was promptly made the occasion for the act of violence which was to unite the Confederacy. There was, near Charleston, South Carolina, a fort called Sumter, held for the United States by Major Robert Anderson, a brave and loyal man. On the 11th of April, 1861, he was summoned to surrender the fort to the Confederate Government, which he refused to do. As he was, however, without provisions, it was eventually agreed, on the 12th April, that he should leave the fort by noon on the 15th. But the rebels, in their impatience, could not wait, and they informed him that, unless he surrendered within one hour, the fort would be bombarded. This was done, and, after a bombardment of thirty-three hours, bravely borne, the Major and his band of seventy men were obliged to surrender.

It is true that this first firing on the American flag acted like the tap of the drum, calling all the South to arms in a frenzy, and sweeping away all the remnants of attachment to the old Union lingering in it. The utmost hopes of the rebel leaders were for the time fully realised. But the North was, to their amazement, not paralysed or struck down, nor did the Democratic sympathisers with the South arise and crush “Lincoln and his minions.” On the contrary, the news of the fall of Sumter was “a live coal on the heart of the American people;” and such a tempest of rage swept in a day over millions, as had never before been witnessed in America. Those who can recall the day on which the news of the insult to the flag was received, and how it was received, have the memory of the greatest conceivable outburst of patriotic passion. For a time, all party feelings were forgotten; there was no more thought of forgiveness, or suffering secession; the whole people rose up and cried out for war.

Hitherto, the press had railed at Lincoln for wanting a policy; and yet if he had made one step towards suppressing the rebels, “a thousand Northern newspapers would have pounced upon him as one provoking war.” Now, however, his policy was formed, shaped, and made glowing hot by one terrible blow. On April 15th, 1861, he issued a proclamation, announcing that, as the laws of the United States were being opposed, and the execution thereof obstructed in South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas, by combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, he, the President of the United States, called forth the militia of the several States of the Union, to the aggregate number of 75,000, in order to suppress said combinations, and to cause the laws to be duly executed. In strong contrast to the threats of general slaughter, and conflagration of Northern cities, so freely thrown out by Jefferson Davis, President Lincoln declared that, while the duty of these troops would be to repossess the forts and property taken from the Union, “in every event the utmost care will be observed, consistently with the objects aforesaid, to avoid any devastation, any destruction of or interference with property, or any disturbance of peaceful citizens, in any part of the country.” He also summoned an extraordinary session of Congress to assemble on the 4th of July, 1861.

This proclamation awoke intense enthusiasm, “and from private persons, as well as by the Legislature, men, arms, and money were offered in unstinted profusion in support of the Government. Massachusetts was first in the field; and on the first day after the issue of the proclamation, the 6th Regiment started from Boston for the national capital. Two more regiments departed within forty-eight hours. The 6th Regiment, on its way to Washington, on the 19th April, was attacked by a mob in Baltimore, carrying a secession flag, and several of its members were killed.” This inflamed to a higher point the entire North; and Governor Hicks, of Maryland, and Mayor Brown, of Baltimore, urged it on President Lincoln that, “for prudential reasons,” no more troops should be sent through Baltimore. This Governor Hicks had, during the previous November, written a letter, in which he regretted that his state could not supply the rebel states with arms more rapidly, and expressed the hope that those who were to bear them would be “good men to kill Lincoln and his men.” But by adroitly shifting to the wind, he “became conspicuously loyal before spring, and lived to reap splendid rewards and high honours under the auspices of the Federal Government, as the most patriotic and devoted Union-man in Maryland.” Yet as one renegade is said to be more zealous than ten Turks, it cannot be denied that, after Governor Hicks became a Union-man, he worked bravely, and his efficiency in preserving Maryland from seceding was only inferior to that of the able Henry Winter Davis. This Governor Hicks had suggested to President Lincoln that the controversy between North and South might be referred to Lord Lyons, the British Minister, for arbitration. To these requests the President replied, through Mr. Seward, that as General Scott deemed it advisable, and as the chief object in bringing troops was the defence of Washington, he made no point of bringing them through Baltimore. But he concluded with these words--

“The President cannot but remember that there has been a time in the history of our country when a General of the American Union, with forces destined for the defence of its capital, was not unwelcome anywhere in the State of Maryland.

“If eighty years could have obliterated all the other noble sentiments of that age in Maryland, the President would be hopeful, nevertheless, that there is one that would for ever remain there and everywhere. That sentiment is, that no domestic contention whatever that may arise among the parties of this republic ought in any case to be referred to any foreign arbitrament, least of all to the arbitrament of a European monarchy.”

It is certain that by this humane and wise policy, which many attributed to cowardice, President Lincoln not only prevented much bloodshed and devastation, but also preserved the State of Maryland. In such a crisis harshly aggressive measures in Maryland would have irritated millions on the border, and perhaps have promptly brought the war further north. As it was, peace and order were soon restored in Baltimore, when the regular use of the highway through that city was resumed.

On the 19th April, 1861, the President issued another proclamation, declaring the blockade of the ports of the seceding states. This was virtually an answer to one from Jefferson Davis, offering letters of marque to all persons who might desire to aid the rebel government, and enrich themselves, by depredations upon the rich and extended commerce of the United States. It may be remarked that the first official words of Jefferson Davis were singularly ferocious, threatening fire, brigandage, and piracy, disguised as privateering, in all their terrors; while his last act as President was to run away, disguised as an old woman, in his wife’s waterproof cloak, and carrying a bucket of water--thus typifying in his own person the history of the rebellion from its fierce beginning to its ignominious end.

It may be doubted if there was in those wild days in all North America one man who to such wise forbearance added such firmness and moral courage as President Lincoln manifested. By it he preserved Maryland, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Missouri, and, if moderation could have availed, he might have kept Virginia. Strange as it seems, while the seceding states were threatening officially, and hastening to carry out, all the outrages of war, the Legislature of Virginia resolved that President Lincoln’s mild message announced a policy of tyranny and “coercion;” and, in spite of the gentlest letter of explanation ever written by any ruler who was not a coward, the state marched out of the Union with drums beating and flags flying. “Thenceforth,” says Holland, “Virginia went straight towards desolation. Its ‘sacred soil’ was from that hour devoted to trenches, fortifications, battle-fields, military roads, camps, and graves.” She firmly believed that all the fighting would be done on Northern soil; but in another year, over a large part of her territory, which had been covered with fertile farms and pleasant villages, there were roads five miles wide.

At this time, there occurred an interesting private incident in Lincoln’s life. His old adversary, Judge Douglas, whom he warmly respected as a brave adversary, had passed his life in pandering to slavery, and, as regards the war, had been the political Mephistopheles who had made all the mischief. But when Sumter was fired on, all that was good and manly in his nature was aroused, and he gave all his support to his old enemy. “During the brief remainder of his life, his devotion to the cause of his country was unwearied. He was done with his dreams of power,” but he could yet do good. He was of service in inducing great numbers of Democrats, who still remained pro-slavery men in principle, to fight for the Union.

Four years to an hour after the memorable reconciliation between Judge Douglas and President Lincoln, the latter was killed by the rebel Booth. “Both died,” says Holland, “with a common purpose--one in the threatening morning of the rebellion, the other when its sun had just set in blood; and both sleep in the dust of that magnificent state, almost every rod of which, within a quarter of a century, had echoed to their contending voices, as they expounded their principles to the people.”

Judge Douglas had warned the President, in the hour of their reconciliation, that, instead of calling on the country for 75,000 men, he should have asked for 200,000. “You do not know the dishonest purposes of those men as I do,” he had impressively remarked. In a few days, it was evident that the rebellion was assuming colossal proportions, and therefore President Lincoln, on May 3rd, issued another call for 42,000 three-year volunteers, and ordered the addition of 22,114 officers and men to the regular army, and 18,000 seamen to the navy. This demand was promptly responded to, for the draft had as yet no terrors. On the 18th of April, a plot had been discovered by which the secessionists in Washington, aided by Virginia, hoped to fire the city, seize the President and Cabinet, and all the machinery of government. By prompt action, this plan was crushed. A part of it was to burn the railway bridges, and make the roads impassable, and this was successfully executed. Yet, in the face of this audacious attack, the Democratic press of the North and the rebel organs of the South continued to storm at the President for irritating the secessionists, declaring that “coercion” or resistance of the Federal Government to single states was illegal. But at this time several events occurred which caused great anger among loyal men: one was the loss of the great national armoury at Harper’s Ferry, and also of Gosport Navy Yard, with 2000 cannon and several large ships. Owing to treachery, this navy yard, with about 10,000,000 dollars’ worth of property, was lost. Another incident was the death of Colonel Ellsworth. This young man, who had been a law student under Mr. Lincoln, was the introducer of the Zouave drill. For many weeks, a rebel tavern-keeper in Alexandria, in sight of Washington, had insulted the Government by keeping a secession flag flying. On the 24th May, when General Mansfield advanced into Virginia, Ellsworth was sent with 13,000 troops to Alexandria. Here his first act was to pull down the rebel flag. On descending, Jackson shot him dead, and was himself promptly shot by private Brownell. Two days previous, the first considerable engagement of the war had occurred at Big Bethel, and here Major Winthrop, a young Massachusetts gentleman of great bravery and distinguished literary talent, was killed. The grief which the deaths of these well-known young men excited was very great. They were among the first victims, and their names remain to this day fresh in the minds of all who were in the North during the war. The funeral of Ellsworth took place from the White House, Mr. Lincoln--who was affected with peculiar sorrow by his death--being chief mourner.

During this month the war was, to a degree, organised. As soon as Washington was made safe, Fortress Monroe, the “water-gateway” of Virginia, was reinforced. Cairo, Illinois, commanding the junction of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, was occupied, and Virginia and North Carolina were efficiently blockaded. Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, the District of Columbia, and a part of Virginia, were divided into three military departments, and on the 10th May another was formed, including the States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, under charge of General Geo. B. M‘Clellan. The object of this department was to maintain a defensive line on the Ohio River from Wheeling to Cairo.

In the month of July, 1861, the rebels, commanded by General Beauregard, threatened Washington, being placed along Bull Run Creek, their right resting on Manassas, and their left, under General Johnston, on Winchester. They numbered about 35,000. It was determined to attack this force, and drive it from the vicinity of Washington. Both sides intended this to be a great decisive battle, and it was generally believed in the North that it would end the war. Government had been supplied with men and money beyond its demands, and the people, encouraged by Mr. Seward’s opinion that the war would last only sixty days, were as impatient now to end the rebellion by force as they had been previously to smother it by concessions. There were few who predicted as Charles A. Dana did to the writer, on the day that war was declared--that it would last “not less than three, nor more than six or seven years.” On the 16th July, the Federal army, commanded by General M’Dowell, marched forth, and the attack, which was at first successful, was made on the 21st. But the reinforcements which Johnston received saved him, and a sudden panic sprung up among the Federal troops, which resulted in a headlong retreat, with 480 killed and 1000 wounded. The army was utterly beaten, and it was only the Confederates’ ignorance of the extent of their own success which saved Washington. It was the darkest day ever witnessed in the North, when the telegraph announced the shameful defeat of the great army of the Union. Everyone had anticipated a brilliant victory; but yet the news discouraged no one. The writer that day observed closely the behaviour of hundreds of men as they came up to the bulletin-board of the New York _Times_, and can testify that, after a blank look of grief and amazement, they invariably spoke to this effect, “It’s bad luck, but we must try it again.” The effect, in the words of Raymond, was to rouse still higher the courage and determination of the people. In twenty-four hours, the whole country was again fierce and fresh for war. Volunteers streamed by thousands into the army, and efforts were promptly made to establish Union forces at different places around the rebel coast. This was the beginning of the famous Anaconda, whose folds never relaxed until they strangled the rebellion. Between the 28th August and the 3rd of December, Fort Hatteras, Port Royal in South Carolina, and Ship Island, near New Orleans, were occupied. Preparations were made to seize on New Orleans; and, by a series of masterly movements, West Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri, which had been in a painful state of conflict, were secured to the Union. Virginia proper had seceded with a flourish of States Rights. Her Western portion recognised the doctrine so far as to claim its right to leave the mother-state and return to the Union. This was not done without vigorous fighting by Generals Rosencranz and Morris, to whom the credit of both organising and acting is principally due, although General M‘Clellan, by a clever and Napoleonic despatch, announcing victory, attracted to himself the chief glory. General M‘Clellan had previously, in Kentucky, favoured the recognition of that state as neutral territory, as the rebels wished him to do--an attempt which Lincoln declared “would be disunion completed, if once entertained.” On the 1st Nov., 1861, General Scott, who had hitherto commanded the armies of the Union, asked for and obtained his discharge, and was succeeded by General M‘Clellan. “If,” as Holland remarks, “he had done but little before to merit this confidence, if he did but little afterwards to justify it, he at least served at that time to give faith to the people.” For three months he organised and supervised his troops with the talent which was peculiar to him--that of preparing great work for greater minds to finish. His photograph was in every album, and on every side were heard predictions that he would be the Napoleon, the Cæsar, the Autocrat of all the Americas. The Western Continent would be, after all, the greatest country in the world, and the greatest man in it was to be “Little Mac.” He was not as yet known by his great botanical _nom de guerre_ of the Virginian Creeper.

Chapter VIII.

Relations with Europe--Foreign Views of the War--The Slaves--Proclamation of Emancipation--Arrest of Rebel Commissioners--Black Troops.

With so much to call for his care in the field, President Lincoln was not less busy in the Cabinet. The relations of the Federal Government with Europe were of great importance. “The rebels,” says Arnold, with truth, “had a positive, vigorous organisation, with agents all over Europe, many of them in the diplomatic service of the United States.” They were well selected, and they were successful in creating the impression that the Confederacy was eminently “a gentleman’s government”--that the Federal represented an agrarian mob led by demagogues--that Mr. Lincoln was a vulgar, ignorant boor--and that the war itself was simply an unconstitutional attempt to force certain states to remain under a tyrannical and repulsive rule. The great fa