GOVERNOR SEYMOUR AND PRESIDENT LINCOLN
1863
Horatio Seymour did not become a member of the Union League, and his
inaugural message of January 7 gave no indication of a change of
heart. He spoke of his predecessor as having "shown high capacity" in
the performance of his duties; he insisted that "we must emulate the
conduct of our fathers, and show obedience to constituted authorities,
and respect for legal and constitutional obligations;" he demanded
economy and integrity; and he affirmed that "under no circumstances
can the division of the Union be conceded. We will put forth every
exertion of power; we will use every policy of conciliation; we will
hold out every inducement to the people of the South, consistent with
honour, to return to their allegiance; we will guarantee them every
right, every consideration demanded by the Constitution, and by that
fraternal regard which must prevail in a common country; but we can
never voluntarily consent to the breaking up of the Union of these
States, or the destruction of the Constitution." With his usual
severity he opposed arbitrary arrests, deemed martial law destructive
of the rights of States, and declared that the abolition of slavery
for the purpose of restoring the Union would convert the government
into a military despotism.
"It has been assumed," he said, "that this war will end in the
ascendency of the views of one or the other of the extremes in our
country. Neither will prevail. This is the significance of the late
elections. The determination of the great Central and Western States
is to defend the rights of the States, the rights of individuals, and
to restore our Union as it was. We must not wear out the lives of our
soldiers by a war to carry out vague theories. The policy of
subjugation and extermination means not only the destruction of the
lives and property of the South, but also the waste of the blood and
treasure of the North. There is but one way to save us from
demoralisation, discord, and repudiation. No section must be
disorganised. All must be made to feel that the mighty efforts we are
making to save our Union are stimulated by a purpose to restore peace
and prosperity in every section. If it is true that slavery must be
abolished by force; that the South must be held in military
subjection; that four millions of negroes must be under the management
of authorities at Washington at the public expense; then, indeed, we
must endure the waste of our armies, further drains upon our
population, and still greater burdens of debt. We must convert our
government into a military despotism. The mischievous opinion that in
this contest the North must subjugate and destroy the South to save
our Union has weakened the hopes of our citizens at home, and
destroyed confidence in our success abroad."[887]
[Footnote 887: Horatio Seymour, _Public Record_, pp. 85-105.]
Although this message failed to recognise the difference between a
peaceable South in the Union and a rebellious South attempting to
destroy the Union, it is not easy, perhaps, to comprehend how the
acknowledged leader of the opposition, holding such views and relying
for support upon the peace sentiment of the country, could have said
much less. Yet the feeling must possess the student of history that a
consummate politician, possessing Seymour's ability and popularity,
might easily have divided with Lincoln the honor of crushing the
rebellion and thus have become his successor. The President recognized
this opportunity, saying to Weed that the "Governor has greater power
just now for good than any other man in the country. He can wheel the
Democratic party into line, put down rebellion, and preserve the
government. Tell him for me that if he will render this service for
his country, I shall cheerfully make way for him as my successor."[888]
Seymour's reply, if he made one, is not of record, but Lincoln's
message would scarcely appeal to one who disbelieved in the North's
ability to subjugate the South. Later in the spring the President,
unwilling to give the Governor up, wrote him a characteristic note.
"You and I," said he, "are, substantially, strangers, and I write this
chiefly that we may become better acquainted. As to maintaining the
nation's life and integrity, I assume and believe there cannot be a
difference of purpose between you and me. If we should differ as to
the means it is important that such difference should be as small as
possible; that it should not be enhanced by unjust suspicions on one
side or the other. In the performance of my duty the coöperation of
your State, as that of others, is needed,--in fact, is indispensable.
This alone is a sufficient reason why I should wish to be at a good
understanding with you. Please write me at least as long a letter as
this, of course saying in it just what you think fit."[889]
[Footnote 888: T.W. Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 428.]
[Footnote 889: Nicolay-Hay, _Abraham Lincoln_, Vol. 7, pp. 10, 11.]
It is difficult to fathom the impression made upon Seymour by this
letter. The more cultivated Democrats about him entertained the belief
that Lincoln, somewhat uncouth and grotesque, was a weak though
well-meaning man, and the Governor doubtless held a similar opinion.
Moreover, he believed that the President, alarmed by the existence of
a conspiracy of prominent Republicans to force him from the White
House, sought to establish friendly relations that he might have an
anchor to windward.[890] One can imagine the Governor, as the letter
lingered in his hand, smiling superciliously and wondering what manner
of man this Illinoisan is, who could say to a stranger what a little
boy frequently puts in his missive, "Please write me at least as long
a letter as this." At all events, he treated the President very
cavalierly.[891] On April 14, after delaying three weeks, he wrote a
cold and guarded reply, promising to address him again after the
Legislature adjourned. "In the meanwhile," he concluded, "I assure you
that no political resentments, or no personal objects, will turn me
aside from the pathway I have marked out for myself. I intend to show
to those charged with the administration of public affairs a due
deference and respect, and to yield to them a just and generous
support in all measures they may adopt within the scope of their
constitutional powers. For the preservation of this Union I am ready
to make any sacrifice of interest, passion, or prejudice."[892]
[Footnote 890: New York _Times_, August 18, 1879.]
[Footnote 891: "Governor Seymour was a patriotic man, after his
fashion, but his hatred of the Lincoln Administration was evidently
deep; and it was also clear that he did not believe that the war for
the Union could be brought to a successful termination."--Andrew D.
White, _Autobiography_, Vol. 1, p. 105.]
[Footnote 892: Nicolay-Hay, _Abraham Lincoln_, Vol. 7, p. 11.]
Seymour never wrote the promised letter. His inaugural expressed his
honest convictions. He wanted no relations with a President who seemed
to prefer the abolition of slavery and the use of arbitrary methods. A
few days later, in vetoing a measure authorising soldiers to vote
while absent in the army, he again showed his personal antipathy,
charging the President with rewarding officers of high rank for
improperly interfering in State elections, while subordinate officers
were degraded "for the fair exercise of their political rights at
their own homes."[893] John Hay did not err in saying "there could be
no intimate understanding between two such men."[894]
[Footnote 893: Horatio Seymour, _Public Record_, p. 109.]
[Footnote 894: Nicolay-Hay, _Abraham Lincoln_, Vol. 7, p. 12.]
General Burnside's arrest of Clement L. Vallandigham of Ohio (May,
1863) increased Seymour's aversion to the President. Burnside's act
lacked authority of law as well as the excuse of good judgment, and
although the President's change of sentence from imprisonment in Fort
Warren to banishment to the Southern Confederacy gave the proceeding a
humorous turn, the ugly fact remained that a citizen, in the dead of
night, with haste, and upon the evidence of disguised and partisan
informers, had been rudely deprived of liberty without due process of
law. Thoughtful men who reverenced the safeguard known to civil
judicial proceedings were appalled. The Republican press of New York
thought it indefensible, while the opposition, with unprecedented
bitterness, again assailed the Administration. In a moment the whole
North was in a turmoil. Everywhere mass meetings, intemperate
speeches, and threats of violence inflamed the people. The basest
elements in New York City, controlling a public meeting called to
condemn the "outrage," indicated how easily a reign of riot and
bloodshed might be provoked. To an assembly held in Albany on May 16,
at which Erastus Corning presided, Seymour addressed a letter
deploring the unfortunate event as a dishonour brought upon the
country by an utter disregard of the principles of civil liberty. "It
is a fearful thing," he said, "to increase the danger which now
overhangs us, by treating the law, the judiciary, and the authorities
of States with contempt. If this proceeding is approved by the
government and sanctioned by the people, it is not merely a step
toward revolution, it is revolution; it will not only lead to military
despotism, it establishes military despotism. In this respect it must
be accepted, or in this respect it must be rejected. If it is upheld
our liberties are overthrown." Then he grew bolder. "The people of
this country now wait with the deepest anxiety the decision of the
Administration upon these acts. Having given it a generous support in
the conduct of the war, we now pause to see what kind of government it
is for which we are asked to pour out our blood and our treasure. The
action of the Administration will determine, in the minds of more than
one-half the people of the loyal States, whether this war is waged to
put down rebellion in the South or to destroy free institutions at the
North."[895]
[Footnote 895: Appleton's _Cyclopædia_, 1863, p. 689.]
At great length Lincoln replied to the resolutions forwarded by
Corning. "In my own discretion," wrote the President, "I do not know
whether I would have ordered the arrest of Mr. Vallandigham.... I was
slow to adopt the strong measures which by degrees I have been forced
to regard as being within the exceptions of the Constitution and as
indispensable to the public safety.... I think the time not unlikely
to come when I shall be blamed for having made too few arrests rather
than too many.... Must I shoot a simple-minded soldier boy who
deserts, while I must not touch a hair of a wily agitator who induces
him to desert? This is none the less injurious when effected by
getting a father, a brother, or friend into a public meeting and then
working upon his feelings till he is persuaded to write the soldier
boy that he is fighting in a bad cause for a wicked administration and
contemptible government, too weak to arrest and punish him if he shall
desert."[896] This argument, undoubtedly the strongest that could be
made in justification, found great favour with his party, but the
danger Seymour apprehended lay in the precedent. "Wicked men ambitious
of power, with hatred of liberty and contempt of law," said Justice
Davis of the United States Supreme Court, in deciding a case of
similar character, "may fill the place once occupied by Washington and
Lincoln, and if this right [of military arrest] is conceded, and the
calamities of war again befall us, the dangers to human liberty are
frightful to contemplate."[897]
[Footnote 896: Appleton's _Cyclopædia_, 1863, pp. 800-802. Lincoln,
_Complete Works_, Vol. 2, p. 347.]
[Footnote 897: 4 Wallace, p. 125.]
Much as Seymour resented the arrest of Vallandigham, he did not allow
the incident to interfere with his official action, and to the
Secretary of War's call for aid when General Lee began his midsummer
invasion of Pennsylvania, he responded promptly: "I will spare no
effort to send you troops at once," and true to his message he
forwarded nineteen regiments, armed and equipped for field service,
whose arrival brought confidence.[898] But governed by the sinister
reason that influenced him earlier in the year, he refused to
acknowledge the President's letter of thanks, preferring to express
his opinion of Administration methods unhindered by the exchange of
courtesies. This he did in a Fourth of July address, delivered at the
Academy of Music in New York City, in which he pleaded, not
passionately, not with the acrimony that ordinarily characterised his
speeches, but humbly, as if asking a despotic conqueror to return the
rights and liberty of which the people had been robbed. "We only ask
freedom of speech,--the right to exercise all the franchises conferred
by the Constitution upon an American. Can you safely deny us these
things?" Mingled also with pathetic appeals were joyless pictures of
the ravages of war, and cheerless glimpses into the future of a
Republic with its bulwarks of liberty torn away. "We stand to-day," he
continued, "amid new made graves; we stand to-day in a land filled
with mourning, and our soil is saturated with the blood of the
fiercest conflict of which history gives us an account. We can, if we
will, avert all these disasters and evoke a blessing. If we will do
what? Hold that Constitution, and liberties, and laws are suspended?
Will that restore them? Or shall we do as our fathers did under
circumstances of like trial, when they battled against the powers of a
crown? Did they say that liberty was suspended? Did they say that men
might be deprived of the right of trial by jury? Did they say that men
might be torn from their homes by midnight intruders?... If you would
save your country and your liberties, begin at the hearthstone; begin
in your family circle; declare that their rights shall be held sacred;
and having once proclaimed your own rights, claim for your own State
that jurisdiction and that government which we, better than all
others, can exercise for ourselves, for we best know our own
interests."[899]
[Footnote 898: Couch's report, _Official Records_, Vol. 27, Part 2,
214.]
[Footnote 899: Horatio Seymour, _Public Record_, pp. 118-124.
Ten days later, in the midst of riot and bloodshed, the _World_ said:
"Will the insensate men at Washington now give ear to our warnings?
Will they now believe that defiance of law in the rulers breeds
defiance of law in the people? Does the doctrine that in war laws are
silent, please them when put in practice in the streets of New
York?"--New York _World_, July 14, 1863.]
One week later, on Saturday, July 11, the draft began in the Ninth
Congressional District of New York, a portion of the city settled by
labourers, largely of foreign birth. These people, repeating the
information gained in neighbourhood discussions, violently denounced
the Conscription Act as illegal, claiming that the privilege of buying
an exemption on payment of $300 put "the rich man's money against the
poor man's blood." City authorities apprehended trouble and State
officials were notified of the threatened danger, but only the police
held themselves in readiness. The Federal Government, in the absence
of a request from the Governor, very properly declined to make an
exception in the application of the law in New York on the mere
assumption that violence would occur. Besides, all available troops,
including most of the militia regiments, had been sent to
Pennsylvania, and to withdraw them would weaken the Federal lines
about Gettysburg.
The disturbance began at the corner of Forty-sixth Street and Third
Avenue, the rioters destroying the building in which the
provost-marshal was conducting the draft. By this time the mob, having
grown into an army, began to sack and murder. Prejudice against
negroes sent the rioters into hotels and restaurants after the
waiters, some of whom were beaten to death, while others, hanged on
trees and lamp-posts, were burned while dying. The coloured orphan
asylum, fortunately after its inmates had escaped, likewise became
fuel for the flames. The police were practically powerless. Street
cars and omnibuses ceased to run, shopkeepers barred their doors,
workmen dropped their tools, teamsters put up their horses, and for
three days all business was stopped. In the meantime Federal and State
authorities coöperated to restore order. Governor Seymour, having
hastened from Long Branch, addressed a throng of men and boys from the
steps of the City Hall, calling them "friends," and pleading with
them to desist. He also issued two proclamations, declaring the city
in a state of insurrection, and commanding all people to obey the laws
and the legal authorities. Finally, the militia regiments from
Pennsylvania began to arrive, and cannon and howitzers raked the
streets. These quieting influences, coupled with the publication of an
official notice that the draft had been suspended, put an end to the
most exciting experience of any Northern community during the war.
After the excitement the _Tribune_ asserted that the riot resulted
from a widespread treasonable conspiracy,[900] and a letter, addressed
to the President, related the alleged confession of a well-known
politician, who, overcome with remorse, had revealed to the editors of
the _Tribune_ the complicity of Seymour. Lincoln placed no reliance in
the story, "for which," says Hay, "there was no foundation in
fact;"[901] but Seymour's speech "intimated," says the Lincoln
historian, "that the draft justified the riot, and that if the rioters
would cease their violence the draft should be stopped."[902] James B.
Fry, provost-marshal general, substantially endorsed this view. "While
the riot was going on," he says, "Governor Seymour insisted on Colonel
Nugent announcing a suspension of the draft. The draft had already
been stopped by violence. The announcement was urged by the Governor,
no doubt, because he thought it would allay the excitement; but it
was, under the circumstances, making a concession to the mob, and
endangering the successful enforcement of the law of the land."[903]
[Footnote 900: New York _Tribune_, July 15, 1863.]
[Footnote 901: Nicolay-Hay, _Abraham Lincoln_, Vol. 7, p. 26.]
[Footnote 902: _Ibid._, p. 23.]
[Footnote 903: James B. Fry, _New York and the Conscription_, p. 33.]
Of the four reports of Seymour's speech, published the morning after
its delivery, no two are alike.[904] Three, however, concur in his use
of the word "friends,"[905] and all agree that he spoke of trying to
secure a postponement of the draft that justice might be done. It was
a delicate position in which he placed himself, and one that ever
after gave him and his supporters much embarrassment and cause for
many apologies. Nevertheless, his action in nowise impugned his
patriotism. Assuming the riot had its inception in the belief which he
himself entertained, that the draft was illegal and unjust, he sought
by personal appeal to stay the destruction of life and property, and
if anyone in authority at that time had influence with the rioters and
their sympathisers it was Horatio Seymour, who probably accomplished
less than he hoped to.
[Footnote 904: New York _Tribune_, _Herald_, _Times_, and _World_,
July 15; also, _Public Record of Horatio Seymour_, pp. 127-128.]
[Footnote 905: New York _Tribune_, _Herald_, and _Times_.]
Seymour's views in relation to the draft first appeared in August.
While the Federal authorities prepared the enrolment in June, the
Governor, although his coöperation was sought, "gave no assistance,"
says Fry. "In fact, so far as the government officers engaged in the
enrolment could learn, he gave the subject no attention."[906] On the
day the drawing began, however, he became apprehensive of trouble and
sent his adjutant to Washington to secure a suspension of the draft,
but the records do not reveal the reasons presented by that officer.
Certainly no complaint was made as to the correctness of the enrolment
or the assignment of quotas.[907] Nevertheless, his delay taught him a
lesson, and when the Federal authorities notified him later that the
drawing would be resumed in August, he lost no time in beginning the
now historic correspondence with the President. His letter of August 3
asked that the suspension of the draft be continued to enable the
State officials to correct the enrolment, and to give the United
States Supreme Court opportunity to pass upon the constitutionality of
the Conscription Act, suggesting the hope that in the meantime New
York's quota might be filled by volunteers. "It is believed by at
least one-half of the people of the loyal States," he wrote, "that the
Conscription Act, which they are called upon to obey, is in itself a
violation of the supreme constitutional law.... In the minds of the
American people the duty of obedience and the rights to protection are
inseparable. If it is, therefore, proposed on the one hand to exact
obedience at the point of the bayonet, and, upon the other hand, to
shut off, by military power, all approach to our judicial tribunals,
we have reason to fear the most ruinous results."[908]
[Footnote 906: James B. Fry, _New York and the Conscription_, p. 14.
"Seymour showed his lack of executive ability by not filling up the
quota of New York by volunteers in less than a month after the
Conscription Act was passed. This a clever executive could easily have
done and so avoided all trouble."--New York _Herald_, September 11,
1863.]
[Footnote 907: James B. Fry, _New York and the Conscription_, p. 32.]
[Footnote 908: _The Public Record of Horatio Seymour_, p. 153.]
This letter was neither gracious nor candid. While dealing in columns
of figures to prove the inaccuracy of the enrolment, it concealed the
fact that, although urged to coöperate with the enrolling officers, he
had ignored their invitation to verify the enrolment. In menacing
tones, too, he intimated "the consequences of a violent, harsh policy,
before the constitutionality of the Act is tested." It was evident he
had given much thought to the question, but his prolixity betrayed the
feeling of an official who, conscious of having erred in doing nothing
in anticipation of riot and bloodshed, wished now to make a big
showing of duty performed.
Lincoln's reply not only emphasised the difference between the
political aptitude of himself and Seymour, but marked him as the more
magnanimous and far the greater man. The President raised no issue as
to enrolments, wasted no arguments over columns of figures, and
referred in nowise to the past. He briefly outlined a method of
verification which quickly established,--what might have been shown in
June had the Governor given the matter attention,--an excess of 13,000
men enrolled in the Brooklyn and New York districts. Although he would
be glad, said Lincoln, to facilitate a decision of the Court and
abide by it,[909] he declined longer to delay the draft "because time
is too important.... We are contending with an enemy who, as I
understand, drives every able-bodied man he can reach into his ranks,
very much as a butcher drives bullocks into a slaughter-pen. No time
is wasted, no argument is used. This produces an army which will soon
turn upon our now victorious soldiers already in the field, if they
are not sustained by recruits as they should be."[910]
[Footnote 909: The constitutionality of the Conscription Act of March
3, 1863, was affirmed by the United States Circuit Courts of
Pennsylvania and Illinois.]
[Footnote 910: _The Public Record of Horatio Seymour_, p. 156.]
When the drawing was resumed on August 19, 10,000 infantry and three
batteries of artillery, picked troops from the Army of the Potomac,
beside a division of the State National Guard, backed the Governor's
proclamation counselling submission to the execution of the law. In
this presence the draft proceeded peacefully.
Meanwhile, the loyal millions of the North, longing for victory in the
field, found their prayers answered. Gettysburg and Vicksburg had
pierced the spirit of the South, Cumberland Gap had liberated East
Tennessee, Fort Smith and Little Rock supplied a firm footing for the
army beyond the Mississippi, and the surrender of Port Hudson
permitted Federal gunboats to pass unvexed to the sea. The rift in the
war cloud had, indeed, let in a flood of sunlight, and, while it
lasted, gave fresh courage and larger faith.