IN THE PRESIDENTIAL CHAIR; THE CIVIL WAR BEGINS.
One of the last things that A-bra-ham Lin-coln did ere he said
good-bye to his Spring-field home was to go down to see the good old
step-moth-er who did so much for him when he was a poor, sad boy. Proud
in-deed, was she of the lad she had reared with so much care, but she
felt that there were hard days to come to him. She told him that she
feared she should not see him a-gain. She said “They will kill you; I
know they will.”
Lin-coln tried to cheer her, and told her they would not do that. But
she clung to him with tears, and a break-ing heart. “We must trust
in the Lord, and all will be well,” said the good man as he bade his
step-moth-er a ten-der fare-well and went a-way.
It was on Feb. 11, 1861, that Lin-coln left Spring-field for
Wash-ing-ton. Snow was fall-ing fast as Lin-coln stood at the rear of
his train to say his last words. A great crowd was at the rail-road
sta-tion. Men stood si-lent with bare heads while he spoke.
Six firm friends of Mr. Lin-coln went with him to Wash-ing-ton. Mr.
Lin-coln was ver-y much af-fect-ed when he went in-to the car af-ter
say-ing good-bye to his old home folks. Tears were in his eyes.
Crowds were at each sta-tion a-long the route and Mr. Lin-coln oft-en
spoke to those who had come there to see him. While talk-ing at
West-field Mr. Lin-coln said that he had a young friend there who had
sent a note to him, and that if Grace Be-dell were in the sta-tion he
should like to meet the child. It seems she was there, and the word
was passed on; “Grace, Grace, the Pres-i-dent is call-ing for you!” A
friend led her through the crowd, and Mr. Lin-coln took her by the
hand and kissed her. Then he said, with a smile, “You see, Grace, that
I have let my whis-kers grow!”
The train then rushed off, but a smile was on Mr. Lin-coln’s face, and
for a brief time the weight of of-fice had left him.
Threats of a sad sort were then a-broad in the land. Foes said Lin-coln
should nev-er be made Pres-i-dent. Their hearts were full of hate. They
felt that this man would be sure to en-force the laws, e-ven a-gainst
those who were joined to-geth-er to try to break them.
Lin-coln was brave. He did not fear. He felt that the Lord was on his
side and that He would give him strength to do all the work that he had
planned for him. Though he did not doubt this, yet, both he and his
friends felt that it would not be right to risk his life at that time,
so they did not take the route at first thought of, but went by a way,
and at a time, which would make all safe.
Thus the train from Phil-a-del-phi-a rolled in-to Wash-ing-ton ear-ly
one morn-ing and Lin-coln was safe, and must, in-deed, have felt the
truth of those Bi-ble words, “He shall give His an-gels charge o-ver
thee to keep thee in all thy ways.”
On the Fourth of March, 1861, A-bra-ham Lin-coln stood on a plat-form,
built for that day, on the east front of the cap-i-tol, and took
the oath of of-fice. He laid his right hand on the Bi-ble. A hush
fell up-on the vast throng as he said, af-ter Chief Jus-tice Ta-ney,
these words: “I, A-bra-ham Lin-coln, do sol-emn-ly swear that I will
faith-ful-ly ex-e-cute the of-fice of Pres-i-dent of the U-ni-ted
States, and will, to the best of my a-bil-i-ty, pre-serve, pro-tect,
and de-fend the Con-sti-tu-tion of the U-ni-ted States.”
Then came the can-non sa-lute while cheer on cheer rent the air.
Lin-coln read his in-au-gu-ral ad-dress as Pres-i-dent of the U-ni-ted
States. His old ri-val, Doug-las was near him, and to show his
friend-ly and loy-al heart, held Lin-coln’s hat.
Lin-coln’s speech was a grand one. He did not boast nor tell what great
things he would do. He spoke as would a fa-ther to way-ward chil-dren,
and told those who were try-ing to break up the Un-ion that their move
would bring ru-in to the Na-tion. He asked them to stop, and turn back
while there was time.
In sad-ness he told them that it was not right for an-y to try to
des-troy the Un-ion; that it was his sworn du-ty to pre-serve it. This
speech did much good, but most-ly where there were folks who had not
known which side to take. These saw, then, that the Pres-i-dent was
bound by his oath to do his dut-y.
No Chief of the U-ni-ted States, when he took his chair, had so hard
a task be-fore him as Lin-coln had. Sev-en States had gone out of the
Un-ion, made a start at a new gov-ern-ment, and found a pres-i-dent
and a vice-pres-i-dent for them-selves. Some of the folks in oth-er
states were mak-ing plans to leave the Un-ion. The peo-ple of the far
South laid hold of Un-ion forts, ships, guns, and post-of-fi-ces. Some
men who had held high posts in the ar-my and na-vy left the Un-ion and
gave their help to the oth-er side. They had sent out the news to the
world that they would have the name of the “Con-fed-er-ate States of
A-mer-i-ca,” and that their pres-i-dent’s name was Jef-fer-son Dav-is.
[Illustration: JEFFERSON DAVIS]
How to save the Un-ion, bring back all the states, make the North and
South friends once more were themes of the day. These thoughts hung
like a weight o-ver Lin-coln as he paced his room at night, and as he
talked with the men he had with him. He did not wish to de-clare war.
He must, he thought, work for peace. This he did till he saw war must
come, but he made up his mind that the first act that brought a-bout
war should not come from him but from those whose wish was to break up
the Un-ion. At last the foe struck the first blow.
It was on a spring day, the twelfth of A-pril, 1861, that the first gun
was fired in Charles-ton har-bor up-on the Un-ion flag on Fort Sum-ter.
The call was sound-ed. The great heart of the North grew hot with shame
and rage.
“What! De-grade our coun-try’s flag?” they cried. “’Tis the flag for
which our fa-thers fought and died!” “We will give the last drop of
our blood for it! We will leave our trades, our homes and dear ones,
and fly to put down the foe who has dared to strike a blow at it!”
But in Charles-ton, S. C. the folks were wild with joy. The Gov-ern-or
of the state, Pick-ens, made a speech from the bal-co-ny of a ho-tel.
He said, “Thank God, the day has come! The war is o-pen, and we will
con-quer or pe-rish. We have de-feat-ed twen-ty mil-lions, and we have
hum-bled their proud flag of stars and stripes.” There was much more
talk in the same vein.
In the North men wept who ne’er had wept be-fore. It seemed as if the
worst had come. “But Lin-coln, our brave Lin-coln, what will he do
now?” they asked. A-bra-ham Lin-coln knew just what to do. He did not
need to be told. He knew that the peo-ple would de-cide the mat-ter and
to them he turned. He talked with his men near him, his “Cab-i-net,”
and said that 75,000 of “the peo-ple” would come to his aid and quell
this thing. Four times that num-ber came.
The par-ties, “Re-pub-li-can” and “Dem-o-crat,” for the time were both
much of one mind, “For the Un-ion,” side by side to “fall in” and march
south and save it.
One state had troops all read-y to start. It was Mas-sa-chu-setts. Her
Gov-ern-or, in 1860, N. P. Banks, had long seen the trend of things,
the need of men that must come, so his sol-diers were a-ble to leave
at the first call for help. On A-pril 19, the Sixth Reg-i-ment fought
its way through the streets of Bal-ti-more, and reached Wash-ing-ton in
time to aid Lin-coln in hold-ing the cap-i-tol.
In ev-er-y cit-y and town there were drum beats and the cry of “To
arms! To arms!” Men were in haste to give their help to the great
Chief, A-bra-ham Lin-coln, whose call they had heard.
Ste-phen A. Doug-las, now that the ver-y life of the Un-ion was at
stake, left no doubt as to where he stood. He made it plain-ly known
that he was “For the Un-ion,” and he led the loy-al Dem-o-crats of the
North to up-hold the Un-ion, and they went glad-ly with him to the task.
Much as the men who led the South to try to go out of the Un-ion were
to blame, it was well known that man-y in the South were loath to go
and did so on-ly when their states said they must.
Some of the best gen-er-als on the side of the South, such as Lee, were
of those un-will-ing men. Each of them fought the North be-cause his
own state told him to. The bad “doc-trine of State Rights,” brought
this a-bout. Un-der it the state was held to have a claim up-on those
who lived in it high-er than the claim which the na-tion had up-on them.
The men who stood for the cause of the South burned the bridg-es on
the rail-roads lead-ing north from Bal-ti-more so that no more troops
might reach Wash-ing-ton from that side.
Cit-i-zens, un-der the com-mand of Maj-or Da-vid Hun-ter, kept guard
o-ver the White House and Treas-u-ry.
[Illustration: DEFENCES OF WASHINGTON.]
All through the long, sad hours Pres-i-dent Lin-coln stood at the helm
and was the pi-lot who, un-der the Lord, took the Ship of State through
the most aw-ful storm in which she had ev-er sailed.
It was, in-deed, a glad hour when the 8th Mas-sa-chu-setts reg-i-ment
and the 7th New York reached Wash-ing-ton. This made the Cap-i-tol safe.
In the West, at Il-li-nois, troops from Chi-ca-go took pos-ses-sion of
Cai-ro.
So, by the prompt com-ing of troops to Wash-ing-ton and of those troops
in the West keep-ing charge at Cai-ro, the plans of the South-ern foe
were checked.