the balance of power in American politics, were going in a drove toward
the camp of the Democrats. It was the business of the managers to
determine which one, or which ones, among the voices of discontent,
represented truly this controlling body of voters. They thought they
knew. Two cries, at least, that rang loud out of the Babel of the hour,
should be heeded. One of these harked back to Niagara. In the anxious
ears of the managers it dinned this charge: "the Administration
prevented negotiations for peace by tying together two demands, the
Union must be restored and slavery must be abolished; if Lincoln had
left out slavery, he could have had peace in a restored Union." It was
ridiculous, as every one who had not gone off his head knew. But so many
had gone off their heads. And some of Lincoln's friends were meeting
this cry in a way that was raising up other enemies of a different sort.
Even so faithful a friend as Raymond, editor of The Times and Chairman
of the Republican National Executive Committee, labored hard in print to
prove that because Lincoln said he "would consider terms that embraced
the integrity of the Union and the abandonment of slavery, he did not
say that he would not receive them unless they embraced both these
conditions."(7) What would Sumner and all the Abolitionists say to
that? As party strategy, in the moment when the old Vindictive Coalition
seemed on the highroad to complete revival, was that exactly the tune to
sing? Then too there was the other cry that also made a fearful ringing
in the ears of the much alarmed Executive Committee. There was wild
talk in the air of an armistice. The hysteric Greeley had put it into
a personal letter to Lincoln. "I know that nine-tenths of the whole
American people, North and South, are anxious for peace--peace on any
terms--and are utterly sick of human slaughter and devastation. I know
that, to the general eye, it now seems that the Rebels are anxious to
negotiate and that we repulse their advances. . . . I beg you, I implore
you to inaugurate or invite proposals for peace forthwith. And in case
peace can not now be made, consent to an armistice for one year, each
party to retain all it now holds, but the Rebel ports to be opened.
Meantime, let a national convention be held and there will surely be no
war at all events."(8)
This armistice movement was industriously advertised in the Democratic
papers. It was helped along by the Washington correspondent of The
Herald who sowed broadcast the most improbable stories with regard to
it. Today, Secretary Fessenden was a convert to the idea; another day,
Senator Wilson had taken it up; again, the President, himself, was for
an armistice.(9)
A great many things came swiftly to a head within a few days before or
after the twentieth of August. Every day or two, rumor took a new turn;
or some startling new alignment was glimpsed; and every one reacted to
the news after his kind. And always the feverish question, what is the
strength of the faction that approves this? Or, how far will this go
toward creating a new element in the political kaleidoscope? About the
twentieth of August, Jaquess and Gilmore threw a splashing stone into
these troubled waters. They published in The Atlantic a full account of
their interview with Davis, who, in the clearest, most unfaltering way
had told them that the Southerners were fighting for independence and
for nothing else; that no compromise over slavery; nothing but the
recognition of the Confederacy as a separate nation would induce them
to put up their bright swords. As Lincoln subsequently, in his perfect
clarity of speech, represented Davis: "He would accept nothing short of
severance of the Union--precisely what we will not and can not give....
He does not attempt to deceive us. He affords us no excuse to deceive
ourselves. He can not voluntarily reaccept the Union; we can not
voluntarily yield it"(10)
Whether without the intrusion of Jaquess and Gilmore, the Executive
Committee would have come to the conclusion they now reached, is a mere
speculation. They thought they were at the point of desperation. They
thought they saw a way out, a way that reminds one of Jaquess and
Gilmore. On the twenty-second, Raymond sent that letter to Lincoln about
"the tide setting strongly against us." He also proposed the Committee's
way of escape: nothing but to offer peace to Davis "on the sole
condition of acknowledging the supremacy of the Constitution--all
other questions to be settled in a convention of the people of all the
States."(11) He assumed the offer would be rejected. Thus the clamor
for negotiation would be met and brought to naught. Having sent off his
letter, Raymond got his committee together and started for Washington
for a council of desperation.
And this brings us to the twenty-third of August. On that day, pondering
Raymond's letter, Lincoln took thought with himself what he should
say to the Executive Committee. A mere opportunist would have met the
situation with some insincere proposal, by the formulation of terms that
would have certainly been rejected. We have seen how Lincoln reasoned
in such a connection when he drew up the memorandum for Jaquess and
Gilmore. His present problem involved nothing of this sort. What he
was thinking out was how best to induce the committee to accept his own
attitude; to become for the moment believers in destiny; to nail their
colors; turn their backs as he was doing on these devices of diplomacy;
and as to the rest-permit to heaven.
Whatever his managers might think, the serious matter in Lincoln's mind,
that twenty-third of August, was the draft. And back of the draft, a
tremendous matter which probably none of them at the time appreciated.
Assuming that they were right in their political forecast, assuming that
he was not to be reelected, what did it signify? For him, there was but
one answer: that he had only five months in which to end the war. And
with the tide running strong against him, what could he do? But one
thing: use the war powers while they remained in his hands in every
conceivable way that might force a conclusion on the field of battle.
He recorded his determination. A Cabinet meeting was held on the
twenty-third. Lincoln handed his Ministers a folded paper and asked
them to write their initials on the back. At the time he gave them no
intimation what the paper contained. It was the following memorandum:
"This morning, as for some days past, it seems exceedingly probable that
this Administration will not be reelected. Then it will be my duty to
so cooperate with the President elect as to save the Union between the
election and the inauguration, as he will have secured his election on
such ground that he can not possibly save it afterward."(12)
He took into his confidence "the stronger half of the Cabinet, Seward,
Stanton and Fessenden," and together they assaulted the Committee.(13)
It was a reception amazingly different from what had been expected.
Instead of terrified party diplomats shaking in their shoes, trying to
face all points at once, morbid over possible political defeats in every
quarter, they found what may have seemed to them a man in a dream;
one who was intensely sad, but who gave no suggestion of panic, no
solicitude about his own fate, no doubt of his ultimate victory. Their
practical astuteness was disarmed by that higher astuteness attained
only by peculiar minds which can discern through some sure interior test
the rare moment when it is the part of wisdom not to be astute at all.
Backed by those strong Ministers, all entirely under his influence,
Lincoln fully persuaded the Committee that at this moment, any overture
for peace would be the worst of strategic blunders, "would be worse than
losing the presidential contest--it would be ignominiously surrendering
it in advance."(14)
Lincoln won a complete spiritual victory over the Committee. These
dispirited men, who had come to Washington to beg for a policy of
negotiation, went away in such a different temper that Bennett's
Washington correspondent jeered in print at the "silly report" of their
having assembled to discuss peace.(15) Obviously, they had merely held
a meeting of the Executive Committee. The Tribune correspondent
telegraphed that they were confident of Lincoln's reelection.(16)
On the day following the conference with Lincoln, The Times announced:
"You may rest assured that all reports attributing to the government any
movements looking toward negotiations for peace at present are utterly
without foundation. . . . The government has not entertained or
discussed the project of proposing an armistice with the Rebels nor has
it any intention of sending commissioners to Richmond . . . its sole
and undivided purpose is to prosecute the war until the rebellion is
quelled. . . ." Of equal significance was the announcement by The Times,
fairly to be considered the Administration organ: "The President stands
firm against every solicitation to postpone the draft."(17)
XXXIII. THE RALLY TO THE PRESIDENT
The question insists upon rising again: were the anti-Lincoln
politicians justified in their exultation, the Lincoln politicians
justified in their panic? Nobody will ever know; but it is worth
considering that the shrewd opportunist who expressed himself through
The Herald changed his mind during a fortnight in August. By one
of those odd coincidences of which history is full, it was on the
twenty-third of the month that he warned the Democrats and jeered at the
Republicans in this insolent fashion:
"Many of our leading Republicans are now furious against Lincoln. . . .
Bryant of The Evening Post is very angry with Lincoln because Henderson,
The Post's publisher, has been arrested for defrauding the government.
"Raymond is a little shaky and has to make frequent journeys to
Washington for instructions. . . .
"Now, to what does all this amount? Our experience of politics convinces
us that it amounts to nothing. The sorehead Republicans complain that
Lincoln gives them either too little shoddy or too little nigger. What
candidate can they find who will give them more of either?
"The Chicago (Democratic) delegates must very emphatically comprehend
that they must beat the whole Re-publican party if they elect their
candidate. It is a strong party even yet and has a heavy army vote to
draw upon. The error of relying too greatly upon the weakness of the
Republicans as developed in the quarrels of the Republican leaders,
may prove fatal . . . the Republican leaders may have their personal
quarrels, or their shoddy quarrels, or their nigger quarrels with Old
Abe; but he has the whip hand of them and they will soon be bobbing back
into the Republican fold, like sheep who have gone astray. The most of
the fuss some of them kick up now, is simply to force Lincoln to give
them their terms. .
"We have studied all classes of politicians in our day and we warn
the Chicago Convention to put no trust in the Republican soreheads.
Furiously as some of them denounce Lincoln now, and lukewarm as the rest
of them are in his cause, they will all be shouting for him as the only
true Union candidate as soon as the nominations have all been made and
the chances for bargains have passed.
"Whatever they say now, we venture to predict that Wade and his tail;
and Bryant and his tail; and Wendell Phillips and his tail; and Weed,
Barney, Chase and their tails; and Winter Davis, Raymond, Opdyke and
Forney who have no tails; will all make tracks for Old Abe's plantation,
and will soon be found crowing and blowing, and vowing and writing, and
swearing and stumping the state on his side, declaring that he and he
alone, is the hope of the nation, the bugaboo of Jeff Davis, the first
of Conservatives, the best of Abolitionists, the purest of patriots,
the most gullible of mankind, the easiest President to manage, and the
person especially predestined and foreordained by Providence to carry on
the war, free the niggers, and give all the faithful a fair share of the
spoils. The spectacle will be ridiculous; but it is inevitable."(1)
The cynic of The Herald had something to go upon besides his general
knowledge of politicians and elections. The Manifesto had not met with
universal acclaim. In the course of this month of surprises, there were
several things that an apprehensive observer might interpret as the
shadow of that hand of fate which was soon to appear upon the wall.
In the Republican Convention of the Nineteenth Ohio District, which
included Ashtabula County, Wade's county, there were fierce words and
then with few dissenting votes, a resolution, "That the recent attack
upon the President by Wade and Davis is, in our opinion, ill-timed,
ill-tempered, and ill-advised . . . and inasmuch as one of the authors
of said protest is a citizen of this Congressional District and indebted
in no small degree to our friendship for the position, we deem it a
duty no less imperative than disagreeable, to pronounce upon
that disorganizing Manifesto our unqualified disapproval and
condemnation."(2)
To be sure there were plenty of other voices from Ohio and elsewhere
applauding "The War on the President." Nevertheless, there were signs of
a reluctance to join the movement, and some of these in quarters where
they had been least expected. Notably, the Abolitionist leaders were
slow to come forward. Sumner was particularly slow. He was ready,
indeed, to admit that a better candidate than Lincoln could be found,
and there was a whisper that the better candidate was himself. However,
he was unconditional that he would not participate in a fight against
Lincoln. If the President could be persuaded to withdraw, that was one
thing. But otherwise--no Sumner in the conspiracy.(3)
Was it possible that Chandler, Wade, Davis and the rest had jumped too
soon? To rebuild the Vindictive Coalition, the group in which Sumner had
a place was essential. This group was composed of Abolitionists, chiefly
New Englanders, and for present purpose their central figure was Andrew,
the Governor of Massachusetts. During the latter half of August, the
fate of the Conspiracy hung on the question, Can Andrew and his group be
drawn in?
Andrew did not like the President. He was one of those who never got
over their first impression of the strange new man of 1861. He insisted
that Lincoln lacked the essential qualities of a leader. "To comprehend
this objection," says his frank biographer, "which to us seems so
astoundingly wide of the mark, we must realize that whenever the New
Englander of that generation uttered the word 'leader' his mind's
eye was filled with the image of Daniel Webster . . . his commanding
presence, his lofty tone about affairs of state, his sonorous profession
of an ideal, his whole ex cathedra attitude. All those characteristics
supplied the aristocratic connotation of the word 'leader' as required
by a community in which a considerable measure of aristocratic sympathy
still lingered. Andrew and his friends were like the men of old who
having known Saul before time, and beholding him prophesying, asked 'Is
Saul also among the prophets?'"(4)
But Andrew stood well outside the party cabals that were hatched at
Washington. He and his gave the conspirators a hearing from a reason
widely different from any of theirs. They distrusted the Executive
Committee. The argument that had swept the Committee for the moment off
its feet filled the stern New Englanders with scorn. They were prompt to
deny any sympathy with the armistice movement.(5) As Andrew put it, the
chief danger of the hour was the influence of the Executive Committee
on the President, whom he persisted in considering a weak man; the chief
duty of the hour was to "rescue" Lincoln, or in some other way to "check
the peace movement of the Republican managers."(6) if it were fairly
certain that this could be effected only by putting the conspiracy
through, Andrew would come in. But could he be clear in his own mind
that this was the thing to do? While he hesitated, Jaquess and Gilmore
did their last small part in American history and left the stage. They
made a tour of the Northern States explaining to the various governors
the purposes of their mission to Richmond, and reporting in full their
audience with Davis and the impressions they had formed.(7) This was a
point in favor of Lincoln--as Andrew thought. On the other hand, there
were the editorials of The Times. As late as the twenty-fourth of
August, the day before the Washington conference, The Times asserted
that the President would waive all the objects for which the war had
been fought, including Abolition, if any proposition of peace should
come that embraced the integrity of the Union. To be sure, this was not
consistent with the report of Jaquess and Gilmore and their statement
of terms actually set down by Lincoln. And yet--it came from the
Administration organ edited by the chairman of the Executive Committee.
Was "rescue" of the President anything more than a dream?
It was just here that Lincoln intervened and revolutionized the whole
situation. With what tense interest Andrew must have waited for reports
of that conference held at Washington on the twenty-fifth. And with what
delight he must have received them! The publication on the twenty-sixth
of the sweeping repudiation of the negotiation policy; the reassertion
that the Administration's "sole and undivided purpose was to prosecute
the war." Simultaneous was another announcement, also in the minds of
the New Englanders, of first importance: "So far as there being any
probability of President Lincoln withdrawing from the canvass, as
some have suggested, the gentlemen comprising the Committee express
themselves as confident of his reelection."(8)
Meanwhile the letters asking for signatures to the pro-posed "call" had
been circulated and the time had come to take stock of the result From
Ohio, Wade had written in a sanguine mood. He was for issuing the
call the moment the Democratic Convention had taken action.(9) On the
twenty-ninth that convention met. On the thirtieth, the conspirators
reassembled--again at the house of David Dudley Field--and Andrew
attended. He had not committed himself either way.
And now Lincoln's firmness with the Executive Committee had its reward.
The New Englanders had made up their minds. Personally, he was still
obnoxious to them; but in light of his recent pronouncement, they would
take their chances on "rescuing" him from the Committee; and since he
would not withdraw, they would not cooperate in splitting the Union
party. But they could not convince the conspirators. A long debate ended
in an agreement to disagree. The New Englanders withdrew, confessed
partisans of Lincoln.(10) It was the beginning of the end.
Andrew went back to Boston to organize New England for Lincoln. J.
M. Forbes remained to organize New York.(11) All this, ignoring the
Executive Committee. It was a new Lincoln propaganda, not in opposition
to the Committee but in frank rivalry: "Since, or if, we must have
Lincoln," said Andrew, "men of motive and ideas must get into the lead,
must elect him, get hold of 'the machine' and 'run it' themselves."(12)
The bottom was out of the conspiracy; but the leaders at New York were
slow to yield. Despite the New England secession, they thought the
Democratic platform, on which McClellan had been invited to stand as
candidate for the Presidency, gave them another chance, especially the
famous resolution:
"That this Convention does explicitly declare, as the sense of the
American people, after four years of failure to restore the Union by
the experiment of war, during which, under the pretense of a military
necessity, or war power higher than the Constitution, the Constitution
itself has been disregarded in every part, and the public liberty and
the private right alike trodden down and the material prosperity of the
country essentially impaired, justice, humanity, liberty and the
public welfare demand that immediate efforts be made for a cessation
of hostilities, with a view to an ultimate convention of the States, or
other peaceable means to the end that at the earliest practicable moment
peace may be restored on the basis of the Federal Union of the States."
Some of the outlying conspirators also suffered a revival of hope. The
Cincinnati Gazette came out flat foot for the withdrawal of Lincoln.(13)
So did The Cincinnati Times, pressing hard for the new convention.(14)
On the second of September, three New York editors, Greeley for The
Tribune, Parke Godwin for The Post, and Tilton for The Independent, were
busily concocting a circular letter to Governors of the States with a
view to saving the conspiracy.(15)
But other men were at work in a different fashion, that same day.
Lincoln's cause had been wrecked so frequently by his generals that
whenever a general advanced, the event seems boldly dramatic. While the
politicians at New York and Chicago thought they were loading the scales
of fate, long lines of men in blue were moving through broken woodland
and over neglected fields against the gray legions defending Atlanta.
Said General Hood, it was "evident that General Sherman was moving with
his main body to destroy the Macon road, and that the fate of Atlanta
depended on our ability to defeat this movement." During the fateful
pow-pow at the house of Dudley Field, Sherman's army like a colossal
scythe was swinging round Atlanta, from the west and south, across Flint
River, through the vital railway, on toward the city. On the second of
September, the news that Atlanta was taken "electrified the people of
the North."(16)
The first thought of every political faction, when, on the third,
the newspapers were ringing with this great news, was either how to
capitalize it for themselves, or how to forestall its capitalization
by some one else. Forbes "dashed off" a letter to Andrew urging an
immediate demonstration for Lincoln.(17) He was sure the Raymond group
would somehow try to use the victory as a basis for recovering their
leadership. Davis was eager to issue the "call" at once.(18) But his
fellows hesitated. And while they hesitated, Andrew and the people
acted. On the sixth, a huge Lincoln rally was held at Faneul Hall.
Andrew presided. Sumner spoke.(19) That same day, Vermont held State
elections and went Republican by a rousing majority. On the day
following occurred the Convention of the Union party of New York.
Enthusiastic applause was elicited by a telegram from Vermont. "The
first shell that was thrown by Sherman into Atlanta has exploded in the
Copperhead Camp in this State, and the Unionists have poured in a
salute with shotted guns."(20) The mixed metaphors did not reduce the
telegram's effect. The New York Convention formally endorsed Lincoln as
the candidate of the Union party for President.
So much for the serious side of the swiftly changing political
kaleidoscope. There was also a comic side. Only three days
sufficed--from Davis's eagerness to proceed on the fourth to letters
and articles written or printed on the seventh--only three days, and the
leaders of the conspiracy began turning their coats. A typical letter
of the seventh at Syracuse describes "an interview with Mr. Opdyke this
morning, who told me the result of his efforts to obtain signatures
to our call which was by no means encouraging. I have found the same
sentiment prevailing here. A belief that it is too late to make any
effectual demonstration, and therefore that it is not wise to attempt
any. I presume that the new-born enthusiasm created by the Atlanta news
will so encourage Lincoln that he can not be persuaded to withdraw."(21)
Two days more and the anti-Lincoln newspapers began to draw in their
horns. That Independent, whose editor had been one of the three in the
last ditch but a week before, handsomely recanted, scuttling across to
what now seemed the winning side. "The prospect of victory is brilliant.
If a fortnight ago the prospect of Mr. Lincoln's reelection seemed
doubtful, the case is now changed. The odious character of the Chicago
platform, the sunshiny effect of the late victories, have rekindled the
old enthusiasm in loyal hearts."(22) One day more, and Greeley sullenly
took his medicine. The Tribune began printing "The Union Ticket--for
President, Abraham Lincoln."