IT was not until May 9 and 10 that the Republican State Convention of
Illinois met at Decatur. Mr. Lincoln was present, and is said to have
been there as a mere "spectator." He had no special interest in the
proceedings, and appears to have had no notion that any business
relating to him was to be transacted that day. It was a very large and
spirited body, comprising an immense number of delegates, among whom
were the most brilliant, as well as the shrewdest men in the party. It
was evident that something of more than usual importance was expected to
transpire. A few moments after the convention organized, "Old Abe" was
seen squatting, or sitting on his heels, just within the door of the
Wigwam. Gov. Oglesby rose and said amid increasing silence, "I am
informed that a distinguished citizen of Illinois, and one whom Illinois
will ever delight to honor, is present; and I wish to move that this
body invite him to a seat on the stand." Here the governor paused, as if
to tease and dally, and work curiosity up to the highest point; but at
length he shouted the magic name "_Abraham Lincoln!_" Not a shout, but
a roar of applause, long and deep, shook every board and joist of the
Wigwam. The motion was seconded and passed. A rush was made for the hero
that sat on his heels. He was seized, and jerked to his feet. An effort
was made to "jam him through the crowd" to his place of honor on
the stage; but the crowd was too dense, and it failed. Then he was
"troosted,"--lifted up bodily,--and lay for a few seconds sprawling and
kicking upon the heads and shoulders of the great throng. In this
manner he was gradually pushed toward the stand, and finally reached
it, doubtless to his great relief, "in the arms of some half-dozen
gentlemen," who set him down in full view of his clamorous admirers.
"The cheering was like the roar of the sea. Hats were thrown up by the
Chicago delegation, as if hats were no longer useful." Mr. Lincoln rose,
bowed, smiled, blushed, and thanked the assembly as well as he could
in the midst of such a tumult. A gentleman who saw it all says, "I then
thought him one of the most diffident and worst-plagued men I ever saw."
At another stage of the proceedings, Gov. Oglesby rose again with
another provoking and mysterious speech. "There was," he said, "an
old Democrat outside who had something he wished to present to this
Convention."--"Receive it!" "Receive it!" cried some. "What is it?"
"What is it?" screamed some of the lower Egyptians, who had an idea the
old Democrat might want to blow them up with an infernal machine. But
the party for Oglesby and the old Democrat was the stronger, and carried
the vote with a tremendous hurrah. The door of the Wigwam opened; and
a fine, robust old fellow, with an open countenance and bronzed cheeks,
marched into the midst of the assemblage, bearing on his shoulder
"two small triangular heart rails," surmounted by a banner with this
inscription:--
TWO RAILS,
FROM A LOT MADE BY ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND JOHN HANKS, IN THE SANGAMON
BOTTOM, IN THE YEAR 1830.
[Illustration: Uncle John Hanks 489]
The sturdy bearer was old John Hanks himself, enjoying the great
field-day of his life. He was met with wild and tumultuous cheers,
prolonged through several minutes; and it was observed that the Chicago
and Central-Illinois men put up the loudest and longest. The whole scene
was for a time simply tempestuous and bewildering. But it ended at
last; and now the whole body, those in the secret and those out of it,
clamored like men beside themselves for a speech from Mr. Lincoln, who
in the mean time "blushed, but seemed to shake with inward laughter." In
response to the repeated appeals he rose and said,--
"Gentlemen, I suppose you want to know something about those things"
(pointing to old John and the rails). "Well, the truth is, John Hanks
and I did make rails in the Sangamon Bottom. I don't know whether we
made those rails or not; fact is, I don't think they are a credit to the
makers" (laughing as he spoke). "But I do know this: I made rails then,
and I think I could make better ones than these now."
By this time the innocent Egyptians began to open their eyes: they saw
plainly enough now the admirable Presidential scheme unfolded to their
view. The result of it all was a resolution declaring that "Abraham
Lincoln _is the first choice of the Republican party of Illinois for the
Presidency, and instructing the delegates to the Chicago Convention to
use all honorable means to secure his nomination, and to cast the vote
of the State as a unit for him_."
The crowd at Decatur, delegates and private citizens, who took part in
these proceedings, was estimated at five thousand. Neither the numbers
nor the enthusiasm was a pleasant sight to the divided and demoralized
Democrats. They disliked to hear so much about "honest Old Abe," "the
rail-splitter," "the flat-boatman," "the pioneer." These cries had an
ominous sound in their ears. Leaving Decatur on the cars, an old man out
of Egypt, devoted to the great principles of Democracy, and excessively
annoyed by the demonstration in progress, approached Mr. Lincoln and
said, "So you're Abe Lincoln?"--"That's my name, sir," answered Mr.
Lincoln. "They say you're a self-made man," said the Democrat. "Well,
yes," said Mr. Lincoln, "what there is of me is self-made."--"Well, all
I've got to say," observed the old man, after a careful survey of the
statesman before him, "is, that it was a d--n bad job."
In the mean time Mr. Lincoln's claims had been attractively presented to
the politicians of other States. So early as 1858, Mr. Herndon had been
to Boston partly, if not entirely, on this mission; and latterly
Judge Davis, Leonard Swett, and others had visited Ohio, Indiana,
Pennsylvania, and Maryland in his behalf. Illinois was, of course,
overwhelmingly and vociferously for him.
On the 16th of May, the Republican Convention assembled at Chicago.
The city was literally crammed with delegates, alternates, "outside
workers," and spectators. No nominating convention had ever before
attracted such multitudes to the scene of its deliberations.
The first and second days were spent in securing a permanent
organization, and the adoption of a platform. The latter set out by
reciting the Declaration of Independence as to the equality of all men,
not forgetting the usual quotation about the right to "life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness." The third resolution denounced disunion
in any possible event; the fourth declared the right of each State to
"order and control its own domestic institutions according to its own
judgment exclusively;" the fifth denounced the administration and its
treatment of Kansas, as well as its general support of the supposed
rights of the South under the Constitution; the sixth favored "economy;"
the seventh denied the "new dogma, that the Constitution, of its own
force, carries slavery into any or all of the Territories of the United
States;" the eighth denied the "authority of Congress, of a Territorial
Legislature, or of any individuals, to give legal existence to slavery
in any Territory of the United States;" the ninth called the African
slave-trade a "burning shame;" the tenth denounced the governors of
Kansas and Nebraska for vetoing certain antislavery bills; the
eleventh favored the admission of Kansas; the twelfth was a high-tariff
manifesto, and a general stump speech to the mechanics; the thirteenth
lauded the Homestead policy; the fourteenth opposed any Federal or State
legislation "by which the rights of citizenship, hitherto accorded to
immigrants from foreign lands, shall be abridged or impaired," with
some pretty words, intended as a further bid for the foreign vote;
the fifteenth declared for "river and harbor improvements," and
the sixteenth for a "Pacific Railroad." It was a very comprehensive
"platform;" and, if all classes for whom planks were provided should
be kind enough to stand upon them, there could be no failure in the
election.
On the third day the balloting for a candidate was to begin. Up to the
evening of the second day, Mr. Seward's prospects were far the best. It
was certain that he would receive the largest vote on the first ballot;
and outside of the body itself the "crowd" for him was more numerous
and boisterous than for any other, except Mr. Lincoln. For Mr. Lincoln,
however, the "pressure" from the multitude, in the Wigwam, in the
streets, and in the hotels, was tremendous. It is sufficiently accounted
for by the fact that the "spot" was Chicago, and the State Illinois.
Besides the vast numbers who came there voluntarily to urge his claims,
and to cheer for him, as the exigency demanded, his adherents had
industriously "drummed up" their forces in the city and country, and
were now able to make infinitely more noise than all the other parties
put together. There was a large delegation of roughs there for Mr.
Seward, headed by Tom Hyer, the pugilist. These, and others like them,
filled the Wigwam toward the evening of the second day in expectation
that the voting would begin. The Lincoln party found it out, and
determined to call a check to that game. They spent the whole night in
mustering and organizing their "loose fellows" from far and near, and
at daylight the next morning "took charge" of the Wigwam, filling
every available space, and much that they had no business to fill. As a
result, the Seward men were unable to get in, and were forced to content
themselves with curbstone enthusiasm.
Mr. Lincoln seemed to be very sure, all along, that the contest would be
ultimately between him and Mr. Seward. The "Bates men" were supposed to
be conservative, that is, not Abolitionists; and the object of the move
in favor of Mr. Bates was to lower the fanatical tone of the party, and
save the votes of certain "Union men" who might otherwise be against
it. But a Seward man had telegraphed to St. Louis, to the friends of Mr.
Bates, to say that Lincoln was as bad as Seward, and to urge them to go
for Mr. Seward in case their own favorite should fail. The despatch was
printed in "The Missouri Democrat," but was not brought to Mr. Lincoln's
attention until the meeting of the Convention. He immediately caught up
the paper, and "wrote on its broad margin," "Lincoln agrees with Seward
in his irrepressible-conflict idea, and in negro equality; but he is
opposed to Seward's Higher Law." With this he immediately despatched a
friend to Chicago, who handed it to Judge Davis or Judge Logan.
Simon Cameron of Pennsylvania was nominally a candidate; but, in the
language of Col. McClure, "it meant nothing:" it was a mere sham, got up
to enable Cameron to make a bargain with some real candidate, and thus
secure for himself and his friends the lion's share of the spoils in
the event of a victory at the polls. The genuine sentiment of the
Pennsylvania delegation was divided between Judge Bates and Judge
McLean. But Cameron was in a fine position to trade, and his friends
were anxious for business. On the evening of the second day, these
gentlemen were gratified. A deputation of them--Casey, Sanderson,
Reeder, and perhaps others--were invited to the Lincoln Head-quarters at
the Tremont House, where they were met by Messrs. Davis, Swett, Logan,
and Dole, on the part of Mr. Lincoln. An agreement was there made, that,
if the Cameron men would go for Lincoln, and he should be nominated
and elected, Cameron should have a seat in his Cabinet, _provided_ the
Pennsylvania delegation could be got to recommend him. The bargain
was fulfilled, but not without difficulty. Cameron's strength was
more apparent than real. There was, however, "a certain class of the
delegates under his immediate influence;" and these, with the aid of Mr.
Wilmot and his friends, who were honestly for Lincoln, managed to carry
the delegation by a very small majority,--"about six."
About the same time a similar bargain was made with the friends of Caleb
B. Smith of Indiana; and with these two contracts quietly ratified, the
Lincoln men felt strong and confident on the morning of the third day.
While the candidates were being named, and when the ballotings began,
every mention of Mr. Lincoln's name was received with thundering shouts
by the vast mass of his adherents by whom the building had been packed.
In the phrase of the day, the "outside pressure" was all in his favor.
On the first ballot, Mr. Seward had 173 1/2 votes; Mr. Lincoln, 102;
Mr. Cameron, 50 1/2; Mr. Chase, 49; Mr. Bates, 48; Mr. Dayton, 14; Mr.
McLean, 12; Mr. Collamer, 10; and 6 were scattered. Mr. Cameron's
name was withdrawn on the second ballot, according to the previous
understanding; Mr. Seward had 184 1/2; Mr. Lincoln, 181; Mr. Chase,
42 1/2; Mr. Bates, 35; Mr. Dayton, 10; Mr. McLean, 8; and the rest
scattered. It was clear that the nomination lay between Mr. Seward and
Mr. Lincoln, and the latter was receiving great accessions of strength.
The third ballot came, and Mr. Lincoln ran rapidly up to 231 1/2 votes;
233 being the number required to nominate. Hundreds of persons were
keeping the count; and it was well known, without any announcement, that
Mr. Lincoln lacked but a vote and a half to make him the nominee. At
this juncture, Mr. Cartter of Ohio rose, and changed four votes from
Mr. Chase to Mr. Lincoln. He was nominated. The Wigwam shook to its
foundation with the roaring cheers. The multitude in the streets
answered the multitude within, and in a moment more all the holiday
artillery of Chicago helped to swell the grand acclamation. After a
time, the business of the convention proceeded amid great excitement.
All the votes that had heretofore been cast against Mr. Lincoln were
cast for him before this ballot concluded; and, upon motion, the
nomination was made unanimous. The convention then adjourned for dinner,
and in the afternoon finished its work by the nomination of Hannibal
Hamlin of Maine for Vice-President.
All that day and all the day previous Mr. Lincoln was in Springfield,
trying to behave as usual, but watching the proceedings of the
Convention, as they were reported by telegraph, with nervous anxiety.
Mr. Baker, the friend who had taken "The Missouri Democrat" to Chicago
with Mr. Lincoln's pregnant indorsement upon it, returned on the night
of the 18th. Early in the morning, he and Mr. Lincoln went to the
balll-alley to play at "fives;" but the alley was pre-engaged. They went
to an "excellent and neat beer saloon" to play a game of billiards; but
the table was occupied. In this strait they contented themselves with a
glass of beer, and repaired to "The Journal" office for news.
C. P. Brown says that Lincoln played ball a great deal that day,
notwithstanding the disappointment when he went with Baker; and Mr. Zane
informs us that he was engaged in the same way the greater part of the
day previous. It is probable that he took this physical mode of working
off or keeping down the unnatural excitement that threatened to possess
him.
About nine o'clock in the morning, Mr. Lincoln came to the office of
Lincoln & Herndon. Mr. Zane was then conversing with a student, "Well,
boys," said Mr. Lincoln, "what do you know?"--"Mr. Rosette," answered
Zane, "who came from Chicago this morning, thinks your chances for the
nomination are good." Mr. Lincoln wished to know what Mr. Rosette's
opinion was founded upon; and, while Zane was explaining, Mr. Baker
entered with a telegram, "which said the names of the candidates for
nomination had been announced," and that Mr. Lincoln's had been received
with more applause than any other. Mr. Lincoln lay down on a sofa to
rest. Soon after, Mr. Brown entered; and Mr. Lincoln said to him, "Well,
Brown, do you know any thing?" Brown did not know much; and so Mr.
Lincoln, secretly nervous and impatient, rose and exclaimed, "Let's go
to the telegraph-office." After waiting some time at the office, the
result of the first ballot came over the wire. It was apparent to all
present that Mr. Lincoln thought it very favorable. He believed that if
Mr. Seward failed to get the nomination, or to "come very near it," on
the first ballot, he would fail altogether. Presently the news of the
second ballot arrived, and Mr. Lincoln showed by his manner that he
considered the contest no longer doubtful. "I've got him," said he. He
then went over to the office of "The Journal," where other friends were
awaiting decisive intelligence. The local editor of that paper, Mr.
Zane, and others, remained behind to receive the expected despatch. In
due time it came: the operator was intensely excited; at first he threw
down his pencil, but, seizing it again, wrote off the news that threw
Springfield into a frenzy of delight. The local editor picked it up, and
rushed to "The Journal" office. Upon entering the room, he called for
three cheers for the next President. They were given, and then the
despatch was read. Mr. Lincoln seemed to be calm, but a close observer
could detect in his countenance the indications of deep emotion. In the
mean time cheers for Lincoln swelled up from the streets, and began to
be heard throughout 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 handshaking 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: honors 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 toward 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."
During the day a hundred guns were fired at Springfield; and in the
evening a great mass meeting "ratified" the nomination, and, after doing
so, adjourned to the house of the nominee. Mr. Lincoln appeared, made a
"model" speech, and invited into his house everybody that could get in.
To this the immense crowd responded that they would give him a larger
house the next year, and in the mean time beset the one he had until
after midnight.
On the following day the Committee of the Convention, with Mr. Ashmun,
the president, at its head, arrived at Springfield to notify Mr. Lincoln
of his nomination. Contrary to what might have been expected, he
seemed sad and dejected. The re-action from excessive joy to deep
despondency--a process peculiar to his constitution--had already set
in. To the formal address of the Committee, he responded with admirable
taste and feeling;--
"Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of the Committee,--I tender to you, and
through you to the Republican National Convention, and all the people
represented in it, my profoundest thanks for the high honor done me,
which you now formally announce. Deeply and even painfully sensible of
the great responsibility which is inseparable from this high honor,--a
responsibility which I could almost wish had fallen upon some one of the
far more eminent men and experienced statesmen whose distinguished names
were before the Convention, I shall, by your leave, consider more
fully the resolutions of the Convention, denominated the platform,
and, without unnecessary and unreasonable delay, respond to you, Mr.
Chairman, in writing, not doubting that the platform will be found
satisfactory, and the nomination gratefully accepted. And now I will not
longer defer the pleasure of taking you, and each of you, by the hand."
The Committee handed him a letter containing the official notice,
accompanied by the resolutions of the Convention; and to this he replied
on the 23d as follows:--
Springfield, Ill, May 23,1860.
Hon. George Ashmun, President of the Republican National Convention.
Sir,--I accept the nomination tendered me by the Convention over which
you presided, and of which I am formally apprised in the letter of
yourself and others, acting as a Committee of the Convention for that
purpose.
The declaration of principles and sentiments which accompanies your
letter meets my approval; and it shall be my care not to violate or
disregard it in any part.
Imploring the assistance of Divine Providence, and with due regard to
the views and feelings of all who were represented in the Convention; to
the rights of all the States and Territories, and people of the nation;
to the inviolability of the Constitution, and the perpetual union,
harmony, and prosperity of all,--I am most happy to co-operate for the
practical success of the principles declared by the Convention.
Your obliged friend and fellow-citizen,
Abraham Lincoln.
In the mean time the National Democratic Convention had met at
Charleston, S.C., and split in twain. The South utterly repudiated Mr.
Douglas's new heresy; and Mr. Douglas insisted that the whole party
ought to become heretics with him, and, turning their backs on the
Dred-Scott Decision and the Cincinnati Platform, give up slavery in
the Territories to the tender mercies of "squatter sovereignty" and
"unfriendly legislation." Neither party to the controversy would be
satisfied with a simple re-affirmation of the Cincinnati Platform; for
under it Mr. Douglas could go to the North and say that it meant
"squatter sovereignty," and Mr. Breckinridge could go to the South and
say that it meant Congressional protection to slavery. In fact, it meant
neither, and said neither, but declared, in plain English words, that
Congress had no power to interfere with slavery in the Territories; and
that, when the Territories were about to become States, they had all
power to settle the question for themselves. Gen. B. F. Butler of
Massachusetts proposed to heal the ominous divisions in the Convention
by the re-adoption of that clear and emphatic provision; but his voice
was soon drowned in the clamors of the fiercer disputants. The
differences were irreconcilable. Mr. Douglas's friends had come there
determined to nominate him at any cost; and, in order to nominate him,
they dared not concede the platform to the South. A majority of the
Committee on Resolutions reported the Cincinnati Platform, with the
Southern interpretation of it; and the minority reported the same
platform with a recitation concerning the "differences of opinion" "in
the Democratic party," and a pledge to abide by the decision of the
Supreme Court "on the questions of constitutional law,"--a pledge
supposed to be of little value, since those who gave it were that moment
in the very act of repudiating the only decision the Court had ever
rendered. The minority report was adopted after a protracted and
acrimonious debate, by a vote of one hundred and sixty-five to one
hundred and thirty-eight. Thereupon the Southern delegates, most of them
under instructions from their State conventions, withdrew, and organized
themselves into a separate convention. The remaining delegates, called
"the rump" by their Democratic adversaries, proceeded to ballot for a
candidate for President, and voted fifty-seven times without effecting a
nomination. Mr. Douglas, of course, received the highest number of
votes; but, the old two-thirds rule being in force, he failed of a
nomination. Mr. Guthrie of Kentucky was his principal competitor; but at
one time and another Mr. Hunter of Virginia, Gen. Lane of Oregon, and
Mr. Johnson of Tennessee, received flattering and creditable votes.
After the fifty-seventh ballot, the Convention adjourned to meet at
Baltimore on the 18th of June.
The seceders met in another hall, adopted the majority platform, as the
adhering delegates had adopted the minority platform, and then adjourned
to meet at Richmond on the second Monday in June. Faint hopes of
accommodation were still entertained; and, when the seceders met at
Richmond, they adjourned again to Baltimore, and the 28th of June.
The Douglas Convention, assuming to be the regular one, had invited the
Southern States to fill up the vacant seats which belonged to them; but,
when the new delegates appeared, they were met with the apprehension
that their votes might not be perfectly secure for Mr. Douglas, and were
therefore, in many instances, lawlessly excluded. This was the signal
for another secession: the Border States withdrew; Mr. Butler and the
Massachusetts delegation withdrew; Mr. Cushing deserted the chair, and
took that of the rival Convention. The "regular" Convention, it was
said, was now "the rump of a rump."
On the first ballot for a candidate, Mr. Douglas had 173 1/2 votes; Mr.
Guthrie, 10; Mr. Breckinridge, 5; and 3 were scattered. On the second
ballot, Mr. Douglas had 181 1/2; Mr. Breckinridge, 5; and Mr. Guthrie, 5
1/2. It was plain that under the two-thirds rule no nomination could be
made here. Neither Mr. Douglas nor any one else could receive two-thirds
of a full convention. It was therefore resolved that Mr. Douglas,
"having received two-thirds of all the votes _given in this
Convention_," should be declared the nominee. Mr. Fitzpatrick of Alabama
was nominated for Vice-President, but declined to stand; and Mr. Johnson
of Georgia was substituted for him by the Douglas "National Committee."
In the seceders' Convention, twenty-one States were represented more
or less fully. It had no trouble in selecting a candidate. John C.
Breckinridge of Kentucky and Joseph Lane of Oregon were unanimously
nominated for the offices of President and Vice-President.
In the mean time another party--the "Constitutional Union party"--had
met in Baltimore on the 19th of May, and nominated John Bell of
Tennessee for President, and Edward Everett of Massachusetts for
Vice-President. Its platform was, in brief, "The Constitution of the
Country, the Union of the States, and the Enforcement of the Laws."
This body was composed for the most part of impenitent Know-Nothings and
respectable old-line Whigs.
The spring elections had given the democracy good reason to hope for
success in the fall. The commercial classes, the shipping classes, and
large numbers of the manufacturers, were thoroughly alarmed for the
safety of the great trade dependent upon a political connection with
the South. It seemed probable that a great re-action against antislavery
agitations might take place. But the division at Charleston, the
permanent organization of the two factions at Baltimore, and their
mutual and rancorous hostility, completely reversed the delusive
prospect. A majority of the whole people of the Union looked forward to
a Republican victory with dread, and a large part with actual terror;
and yet it was now clear that that majority was fatally bent upon
wasting its power in the bitter struggles of the factions which composed
it. Mr. Lincoln's election was assured; and for them there was nothing
left but to put the house in order for the great convulsion which
all our political fathers and prophets had predicted as the necessary
consequence of such an event.
On the 6th of November, Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the
United States. He received 1,857,610 votes; Mr. Douglas had 1,291,574;
Mr. Breckinridge, 850,082; Mr. Bell, 646,124. Against Mr. Lincoln there
was a majority of 980,170 of all the votes cast. Of the electoral
votes, Mr. Lincoln had 180; Mr. Breckinridge, 72; Mr. Bell, 30; and
Mr. Douglas, 12. It is more than likely that Mr. Lincoln owed this, his
crowning triumph, to the skill and adroitness with which he questioned
Mr. Douglas in the canvass of 1858, and drew out of him those fatal
opinions about "squatter sovereignty" and "unfriendly legislation" in
the Territories. But for Mr. Douglas's committal to those opinions, it
is not likely that. Mr. Lincoln would ever have been President.
The election over, Mr. Lincoln was sorely beset by office-seekers.
Individuals, deputations, "delegations," from all quarters, pressed
in upon him in a manner that might have killed a man of less robust
constitution. The hotels of Springfield were filled with gentlemen who
came with, light baggage and heavy schemes. The party had never been in
office: a "clean sweep" of the "ins" was expected; and all the "outs"
were patriotically anxious to take the vacant places. It was a party
that had never fed; and it was voraciously hungry. Mr. Lincoln and
Artemus Ward saw a great deal of fun in it; and in all human probability
it was the fun alone that enabled Mr. Lincoln to bear it.
Judge Davis says that Mr. Lincoln had determined to appoint "Democrats
and Republicans alike to office." Many things confirm this statement.
Mr. Lincoln felt deeply the responsibility of his great trust; and he
felt still more keenly the supposed impossibility of administering
the government for the sole benefit of an organization which had no
existence in one-half of the Union. He was therefore willing, not only
to appoint Democrats to office, but to appoint them to the very highest
offices within his gift. At this time he thought very highly of Mr.
Stephens of Georgia, and would gladly have taken him into his Cabinet
but for the fear that Georgia might secede, and take Mr. Stephens along
with her. He did actually authorize his friend, Mr. Speed, to offer the
Treasury Department to Mr. Guthrie of Kentucky; and Mr. Guthrie, for
good reasons of his own, declined it. The full significance of this act
of courageous magnanimity cannot be understood without reference to the
proceedings of the Charleston Convention, where Mr. Guthrie was one
of the foremost candidates. He considered the names of various other
gentlemen from the Border States, each of them with good proslavery
antecedents. He commissioned Thurlow Weed to place a seat in the Cabinet
at the disposal of Mr. Gilmore of North Carolina; but Mr. Gilmore,
finding that his State was likely to secede, was reluctantly compelled
to decline it. He was, in fact, sincerely and profoundly anxious that
the South should be honestly represented in his councils by men who had
an abiding-place in the hearts of her people. To accomplish that high
purpose, he was forced to go beyond the ranks of his own party; and
he had the manliness to do it. He felt that his strength lay in
conciliation at the outset: that was his ruling conviction during all
those months of preparation for the great task before him. It showed
itself, not only in the appointments which he sought to make, but in
those which he did make. Harboring no jealousies, entertaining no fears
concerning his personal interests in the future, he called around
him the most powerful of his late rivals,--Seward, Chase, Bates,--and
unhesitatingly gave into their hands powers which most presidents would
have shrunk from committing to their equals, and much more to their
superiors in the conduct of public affairs.
The cases of Cameron and Smith, however, were very distressing. He had
authorized no one to make such bargains for him as had been made with
the friends of these men. He would gladly have repudiated the contracts,
if it could have been done with honor and safety. For Smith he had great
regard, and believed that he had rendered important services in the late
elections. But his character was now grossly assailed; and it would have
saved Mr. Lincoln serious embarrassments if he had been able to put him
aside altogether, and select Mr. Lane or some other Indiana statesman
in his place. He wavered long, but finally made up his mind to keep the
pledge of his friends; and Smith was appointed.
In Cameron's case the contest was fierce and more protracted. At
Chicago, Cameron's agents had demanded that he should have the Treasury
Department; but that was too much; and the friends of Mr. Lincoln,
tried, pushed, and anxious as they were, declined to consider it. They
would say that he should be appointed to a Cabinet position, but no
more; and to secure this, he must get a majority of the Pennsylvania
delegation to recommend him. Mr. Cameron was disposed to exact the
penalty of his bond, hard as compliance might be on the part of Mr.
Lincoln. But Cameron had many and formidable enemies, who alleged that
he was a man notorious for his evil deeds, shameless in his rapacity
and corruption, and even more shameless in his mean ambition to occupy
exalted stations, for which he was utterly and hopelessly incompetent;
that he had never dared to offer himself as a candidate before the
people of Pennsylvania, but had more than once gotten high offices from
the Legislature by the worst means ever used by a politician; and that
it would be a disgrace, a shame, a standing offence to the country, if
Mr. Lincoln should consent to put him into his Cabinet. On the other
hand, Mr. Cameron had no lack of devoted friends to deny these charges,
and to say that his was as "white a soul" as ever yearned for political
preferment: they came out to Springfield in numbers,--Edgar Cowan, J. K.
Moorehead, Alexander Cummins, Mr. Sanderson, Mr. Casey, and many
others, besides Gen. Cameron himself. On the ground, of course, were the
powerful gentlemen who had made the original contract on the part of
Mr. Lincoln, and who, from first to last, strenuously insisted upon
its fulfilment. It required a hard struggle to overcome Mr. Lincoln's
scruples; and the whole force was necessarily mustered in order to
accomplish it. "All that I am in the world," said he,--"the Presidency
and all else,--I owe to that opinion of me which the people express
when they call me 'honest Old Abe.' Now, what will they think of
their _honest_ Abe, when he appoints Simon Cameron to be his familiar
adviser?"
In Pennsylvania it was supposed for a while that Cameron's audacity had
failed him, and that he would abandon the attempt. But about the 1st
of January Mr. Swett, one of the contracting parties, appeared at
Harrisburg, and immediately afterwards Cameron and some of his
friends took flight to Springfield. This circumstance put the vigilant
opposition on the alert, and aroused them to a clear sense of the
impending calamity. The sequel is a painful story; and it is, perhaps,
better to give it in the words of a distinguished actor,--Col. Alexander
K. McClure. "I do not know," says he, "that any went there to oppose
the appointment but myself. When I learned that Cameron had started
to Springfield, and that his visit related to the Cabinet, I at once
telegraphed Lincoln that such an appointment would be most unfortunate.
Until that time, no one outside a small circle of Cameron's friends
dreamed of Lincoln's calling him to the Cabinet. Lincoln's character for
honesty was considered a complete guaranty against such a suicidal act.
No efforts had therefore been made to guard against it.
"In reply to my telegram, Mr. Lincoln answered, requesting me to come to
Springfield at once. I hastily got letters from Gov. Curtin, Secretary
Slifer, Mr. Wilmot, Mr. Dayton, Mr. Stevens, and started. I took no
affidavits with me, nor were any specific charges made against him by
me, or by any of the letters I bore; but they all sustained me in the
allegation, that the appointment would disgrace the administration
and the country, because of the notorious incompetency and public and
private villany of the candidate. I spent four hours with Mr. Lincoln
alone; and the matter was discussed very fully and frankly. Although he
had previously decided to appoint Cameron, he closed our interview by
a reconsideration of his purpose, and the assurance that within
twenty-four hours he would write me definitely on the subject. He wrote
me, as he promised, and stated, that, if I would make specific charges
against Mr. Cameron, and produce the proof, he would dismiss the
subject. I answered, declining to do so for reasons I thought should be
obvious to every one. I believe that affidavits were sent to him, but I
had no hand in it.
"Subsequently Cameron regarded his appointment as impossible, and he
proposed to Stevens to join in pressing him. Stevens wrote me of the
fact; and I procured strong letters from the State administration in his
favor. A few days after Stevens wrote me a most bitter letter, saying
that Cameron had deceived him, and was then attempting to enforce his
own appointment. The bond was demanded of Lincoln; and that decided the
matter."1
1 As this was one of the few public acts which Mr. Lincoln performed
with a bad conscience, the reader ought to know the consequences of it;
and, because it may not be convenient to revert to them in detail at
another place, we give them here, still retaining the language of the
eye-witness, Col. McClure:--
"I saw Cameron the night of the day that Lincoln removed him. We met in
the room of a mutual friend, and he was very violent against Lincoln for
removing him without consultation or notice. His denunciation against
the President was extremely bitter, for attempting, as he said, his
'personal as well as his political destruction.' He exhibited the
letter, which was all in Mr. Lincoln's handwriting, and was literally as
follows. I quote from carefully-treasured recollection:--
"'Hon. Simon Cameron, Secretary of War.
"Dear Sir,--I have this day nominated Hon. Edwin M. Stanton to be
Secretary of War, and you to be Minister Plenipotentiary to Russia.
"I am sure there is no material error in my quotation of the letter.
"Cameron's chief complaint was, that he had no knowledge or intimation
of the change until Chase delivered the letter. We were then, as ever
before and since, and as we ever shall be, not in political sympathy,
but our personal relations were ever kind. Had he been entirely
collected, he would probably not have said and done what I heard and
witnessed; but he wept like a child, and appealed to me to aid in
protecting him against the President's attempt at personal degradation,
assuring me that under like circumstances he would defend me. In my
presence the proposition was made and determined upon to ask Lincoln
to allow a letter of resignation to be antedated, and to write a kind
acceptance of the same in reply. The effort was made, in which Mr. Chase
joined, although perhaps ignorant of all the circumstances of the
case; and it succeeded. The record shows that Mr. Cameron voluntarily
resigned; while, in point of fact, he was summarily removed without
notice.
"In many subsequent conversations with Mr. Lincoln, he did not attempt
to conceal the great misfortune of Cameron's appointment and the painful
necessity of his removal."
Very truly,
A. LINCOLN.'
As a slight relief to the miseries of his high position, and the doleful
tales of the office-hunters, who assailed him morning, noon, and night,
Mr. Lincoln ran off to Chicago, where he met with the same annoyances,
and a splendid reception besides. Here, however, he enjoyed the great
satisfaction of a long private conference with his old friend Speed; and
it was then that he authorized him to invite Mr. Guthrie to the Cabinet.
And now he began to think very tenderly of his friends and relatives in
Coles County, especially of his good stepmother and her daughters. By
the first of February, he concluded that he could not leave his home to
assume the vast responsibilities that awaited him without paying them a
visit. Accordingly, he left Springfield on the first day of that month,
and went straight to Charleston, where Col. Chapman and family resided.
He was accompanied by Mr. Marshall, the State Senator from that
district, and was entertained at his house. The people crowded by
hundreds to see him; and he was serenaded by "both the string and
brass bands of the town, but declined making a speech." Early the next
morning, he repaired "to his cousin, Dennis Hanks;" and our Jolly old
friend Dennis had the satisfaction of seeing a grand levee under his own
roof. It was all very pleasant to Mr. Lincoln to see such multitudes
of familiar faces smiling upon his wonderful successes. But the chief
object of his solicitude was not here; Mrs. Lincoln lived in the
southern part of the county, and he was all impatience to see her. As
soon, therefore, as he had taken a frugal breakfast with Dennis, he and
Col. Chapman started off in a "two-horse buggy" toward Farmington, where
his step-mother was living with her daughter, Mrs. Moore. They had much
difficulty in crossing "the Kickapoo" River, which was running full of
ice; but they finally made the dangerous passage, and arrived at
Farmington in safety. The meeting between him and the old lady was of a
most affectionate and tender character. She fondled him as her own
"Abe," and he her as his own mother. It was soon arranged that she
should return with him to Charleston, so that they might enjoy by the
way the unrestricted and uninterrupted intercourse which they both
desired above all things, but which they were not likely to have where
the people could get at him. Then Mr. Lincoln and Col. Chapman drove to
the house of John Hall, who lived "on the old Lincoln farm," where Abe
split the celebrated rails, and fenced in the little clearing in 1830.
Thence they went to the spot where old Tom Lincoln was buried. The grave
was unmarked and utterly neglected. Mr. Lincoln said he wanted to "have
it enclosed, and a suitable tombstone erected." He told Col. Chapman to
go to a "marble-dealer," ascertain the cost of the work proposed, and
write him in full. He would then send Dennis Hanks the money, and an
inscription for the stone; and Dennis would do the rest. (Col. Chapman
performed his part of the business, but Mr. Lincoln noticed it no
further; and the grave remains in the same condition to this day.)
"We then returned," says Col. Chapman, "to Farmington, where we found
a large crowd of citizens--nearly all old acquaintances--waiting to see
him. His reception was very enthusiastic, and appeared to gratify him
very much. After taking dinner at his step-sister's (Mrs. Moore), we
returned to Charleston, his step-mother coming with us.
"Our conversation during the trip was mostly concerning family affairs.
Mr. Lincoln spoke to me on the way down to Farmington of his step-mother
in the most affectionate manner; said she had been his best friend in
the world, and that no son could love a mother more than he loved her.
He also told me of the condition of his father's family at the time he
married his step-mother, and of the change she made in the family, and
of the encouragement he (Abe) received from her.... He spoke of his
father, and related some amusing incidents of the old man; of the
bull-dogs' biting the old man on his return from New Orleans; of the
old man's escape, when a boy, from an Indian who was shot by his uncle
Mordecai. He spoke of his uncle Mordecai as being a man of very great
natural gifts, and spoke of his step-brother, John
D. Johnston, who had died a short time previous, in the most
affectionate manner.
"Arriving at Charleston on our return from Farmington, we proceeded to
my residence. Again the house was crowded by persons wishing to see him.
The crowd finally became so great, that he authorized me to announce
that he would hold a public reception at the Town Hall that evening at
seven o'clock; but that, until then, he wished to be left with relations
and friends. After supper he proceeded to the Town Hall, where large
numbers from the town and surrounding country, irrespective of party,
called to see him.
"He left this place Wednesday morning at four o'clock to return to
Springfield.... Mr. Lincoln appeared to enjoy his visit here remarkably
well. His reception by his old acquaintances appeared to be very
gratifying to him. They all appeared so glad to see him, irrespective
of party, and all appeared so anxious that his administration might be
a success, and that he might have a pleasant and honorable career as
President."
The parting between Mr. Lincoln and his mother was very touching. She
embraced him with deep emotion, and said she was sure she would never
behold him again, for she felt that his enemies would assassinate him.
He replied, "No, no, mamma: they will not do that. Trust in the Lord,
and all will be well: we will see each other again." Inexpressibly
affected by this new evidence of her tender attachment and deep concern
for his safety, he gradually and reluctantly withdrew himself from the
arms of the only mother he had ever known, feeling still more oppressed
by the heavy cares which time and events were rapidly augmenting.
The fear that Mr. Lincoln would be assassinated was not peculiar to his
step-mother. It was shared by very many of his neighbors at Springfield;
and the friendly warnings he received were as numerous as they were
silly and gratuitous. Every conceivable precaution was suggested. Some
thought the cars might be thrown from the track; some thought he would
be surrounded and stabbed in some great crowd; others thought he
might be shot from a house-top as he rode up Pennsylvania Avenue on
inauguration day; while others still were sure he would be quietly
poisoned long before the 4th of March. One gentleman insisted that
he ought, in common prudence, to take his cook with him from
Springfield,--one from "among his own female friends."
Mingled with the thousands who came to see him were many of his old
New-Salem and Petersburg friends and constituents; and among these was
Hannah Armstrong, the wife of Jack and the mother of William. Hannah
had been to see him once or twice before, and had thought there was
something mysterious in his conduct. He never invited her to his house,
or introduced her to his wife; and this circumstance led Hannah to
suspect that "there was something wrong between him and her." On one
occasion she attempted a sort of surreptitious entrance to his house
by the kitchen door; but it ended very ludicrously, and poor Hannah was
very much discouraged. On this occasion she made no effort to get upon
an intimate footing with his family, but went straight to the State
House, where he received the common run of strangers. He talked to her
as he would have done in the days when he ran for the Legislature, and
Jack was an "influential citizen." Hannah was perfectly charmed, and
nearly beside herself with pride and pleasure. She, too, was filled with
the dread of some fatal termination to all his glory. "Well," says she,
"I talked to him some time, and was about to bid him good-by; had told
him that it was the last time I should ever see him: something told me
that I should never see him; they would kill him. He smiled, and said
jokingly, 'Hannah, if they do kill me, I shall never die another death.'
I then bade him good-by."