A REAL PRESIDENT, AND NOT A REAL BATTLE
The capture of Fort Sumter and the call for troops established one fact.
There was to be a war. The period of speculation was over and the period
of action had begun. The transition meant much. The talking men of the
country had not appeared to advantage during the few months in which
they had been busy chiefly in giving weak advice and in concocting
prophecies. They now retired before the men of affairs, who were to do
better. To the Anglo-Saxon temperament it was a relief to have done with
waiting and to begin to do something. Activity cleared the minds of men,
and gave to each his appropriate duty.
The gravity of the crisis being undeniable, the people of the North
queried, with more anxiety than ever before, as to what kind of a chief
they had taken to carry them through it. But the question which all
asked none could answer. Mr. Lincoln had achieved a good reputation as a
politician and a stump speaker. Whatever a few might _think_, this was
all that any one _knew_. The narrow limitations of his actual experience
certainly did not encourage a belief in his probable fitness to
encounter duties more varied, pressing, numerous, novel, and difficult
than had ever come so suddenly to confound any ruler within recorded
time. Later on, when it was seen with what rare capacity he met demands
so exacting, many astonished and excitable observers began to cry out
that he was inspired. This, however, was sheer nonsense. That the very
peculiar requirements of these four years found a president so well
responding to them may be fairly regarded, by those who so please, as a
specific Providential interference,--a striking one among many less
striking. But, in fact, nothing in Mr. Lincoln's life requires, for its
explanation, the notion of divine inspiration. His doings, one and all,
were perfectly intelligible as the outcome of honesty of purpose, strong
common sense, clear reasoning powers, and a singular sagacity in reading
the popular mind. Intellectually speaking, a clear and vigorous thinking
capacity was his chief trait. This sounds commonplace and uninteresting,
but a more serviceable qualification could not have been given him. The
truth is, that it was part of the good fortune of the country that the
President was not a brilliant man. Moreover, he was cool, shrewd,
dispassionate, and self-possessed, and was endowed really in an
extraordinary degree with an intermingling of patience and courage,
whereby he was enabled both to await and to endure results. Above all he
was a masterful man; not all the time and in small matters, and not
often in an opinionated way; but, from beginning to end, whenever he
saw fit to be master, master he was.[143]
This last fact, when it became known, answered another question which
people were asking: In whose hands were the destinies of the North to
be? In those of Mr. Lincoln? or in those of the cabinet? or in those of
influential advisers, something like what have been called "favorites"
in Europe, and "kitchen cabinet" in the more homely phrase of the United
States? The early impression was that Mr. Lincoln did not know a great
deal. How could he? Where and how could he have learned much? It must be
admitted that it was entirely natural that his advisers, and other
influential men concerned in public affairs, should adopt and act upon
the theory that Mr. Lincoln, emerging so sharply from such a past as his
had been, into such a crisis as was now present, must need a vast amount
of instruction, guidance, suggestion. Accordingly there were many
gentlemen who stood ready, not to say eager, to supply these fancied
wants, and who could have supplied them very well had they existed.
Therefore one of the first things which Mr. Lincoln had to do was,
without antagonizing Mr. Seward and Mr. Chase, to indicate to them that
they were to be not only in name but also in rigid fact his secretaries,
and that he was in fact as well as by title President. This delicate
business was done so soon as opportunity offered, not in any disguised
way but with plain simplicity. Mr. Chase never took the disposition
quite pleasantly. He managed his department with splendid ability, but
in the personal relation of a cabinet adviser upon the various matters
of governmental policy he was always somewhat uncomfortable to get along
with, inclined to fault-finding, ever ready with discordant suggestions,
and in time also disturbed by ambition.
Mr. Seward behaved far better. After the question of supremacy had been
settled, though in a way quite contrary to his anticipation, he frankly
accepted the subordinate position, and discharged his duties with hearty
good-will. Indeed, this settlement had already come, before the time
which this narrative has reached; but the people did not know it; it was
a private matter betwixt the two men who had been parties to it. Only
Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Seward knew that the secretary had suggested his
willingness to run the government for the President, and that the
President had replied that he intended to run it himself. It came about
in this way: on April 1 Mr. Seward presented, in writing, "Some thoughts
for the President's consideration." He opened with the statement, not
conciliatory, that "We are at the end of a month's administration, and
yet without a policy, either domestic or foreign." He then proceeded to
offer suggestions for each. For the "policy at home" he proposed, as the
"ruling idea:" "Change the question before the public from one upon
slavery, or about slavery, for a question upon Union or Disunion." It
was odd and not complimentary that he should seem to forget or ignore
that precisely this thing had already been attempted by Mr. Lincoln in
his inaugural address. Also within a few days, as we all know now,
events were to show that the attempt had been successful. Further
comment upon the domestic policy of Mr. Seward is, therefore, needless.
But his scheme "For Foreign Nations" is more startling:--
"I would demand explanations from Spain and France categorically at
once.
"I would seek explanations from Great Britain and Russia, and send
agents into Canada, Mexico, and Central America, to rouse a vigorous
spirit of independence on this continent against European intervention.
"And, if satisfactory explanations are not received from Spain and
France,
"Would convene Congress and declare war against them.
"But whatever policy we adopt, there must be an energetic prosecution of
it.
"For this purpose it must be somebody's business to pursue and direct it
incessantly.
"Either the President must do it himself, and be all the while active in
it, or
"Devolve it on some member of his cabinet.
"Once adopted, debates on it must end, and all agree and abide.
"It is not in my especial province.
"But I neither seek to evade nor assume responsibility."
Suggestions so wild could not properly constitute material for
"consideration" by the President; but much consideration on the part of
students of those times and men is provoked by the fact that such
counsel emanated from such a source. The secretary of state, heretofore
the most distinguished leader in the great Republican movement, who
should by merit of actual achievement have been the Republican candidate
for the presidency, and who was expected by a large part of the country
to save an ignorant president from bad blunders, was advancing a
proposition to create pretexts whereby to force into existence a foreign
war upon a basis which was likely to set one half of the civilized world
against the other half. The purpose for which he was willing to do this
awful thing was: to paralyze for a while domestic discussions, and to
undo and leave to be done anew by the next generation all that vast work
which he himself, and the President whom he advised, and the leaders of
the great multitude whom they both represented, had for years been
engaged in prosecuting with all the might that was in them. But the
explanation is simple: like many another at that trying moment, the
secretary was smitten with sudden panic at the condition which had been
brought about so largely by his own efforts. It was strictly a panic,
for it passed away rapidly as panics do.
The biographer of Mr. Seward may fairly enough glide lightly over this
episode, since it was nothing more than an episode; but one who writes
of Mr. Lincoln must, in justice, call attention to this spectacle of the
sage statesman from whom, if from any one, this "green hand," this
inexperienced President, must seek guidance, thus in deliberate writing
pointing out a course which was ridiculous and impossible, and which, if
it had been possible, would have been an intolerably humiliating
retreat. The anxious people, who thought that their untried President
might, upon the worst estimate of his own abilities, get on fairly well
by the aid of wise and skilled advisers, would have been aghast had they
known that, inside of the government, the pending question was: not
whether Mr. Lincoln would accept sound instruction, but whether he would
have sense to recognize bad advice, and independence to reject it.
Before Mr. Seward went to bed on that night of April 1, he was perhaps
the only man in the country who knew the solution of this problem. But
he knew it, for Mr. Lincoln had already answered his letter. It had not
taken the President long! The secretary's extraordinary offer to assume
the responsibility of pursuing and directing the policy of the
government was rejected within a few hours after it was made; rejected
not offensively, but briefly, clearly, decisively, and without thanks.
Concerning the proposed policies, domestic and foreign, the President
said as little as was called for; he actually did not even refer to the
scheme for inaugurating gratuitously a war with a large part of Europe,
in order for a while to distract attention from slavery.
To us, to-day, it seems that the President could not have missed a
course so obvious; yet Mr. Seward, who suggested the absurdity, was a
great statesman. In truth, the President had shown not only sense but
nerve. For the difference between Seward's past opportunities and
experience and his own was appreciated by him as fully as by any one. He
knew perfectly well that what seemed the less was controlling what
seemed the greater when he overruled his secretary. It took courage on
the part of a thoughtful man to put himself in such a position. Other
solemn reflections also could not be avoided. Not less interested than
any other citizen in the fate of the nation, he had also a personal
relation to the ultimate event which was exclusively his own. For he
himself might be called, in a certain sense, the very cause of
rebellion; of course the people who had elected him carried the real
responsibility; but he stood as the token of the difference, the
concrete provocation to the fight. The South had said: _Abraham Lincoln_
brings secession. It was frightful to think that, as he was in fact the
signal, so posterity might mistake him for the very cause of the rending
of a great nation, the failure of a grand experiment. It might be that
this destiny was before him, for the outcome of this struggle no one
could foretell; it might be his sad lot to mark the end of the line of
Presidents of the United States. Lincoln was not a man who could escape
the full weight of these reflections, and it is to be remembered that
all actions were taken beneath that weight. It was a strong man, then,
who stood up and said, This is my load and I will carry it; and who did
carry it, when others offered to shift much of it upon their own
shoulders; also who would not give an hour's thought to a scheme which
promised to lift it away entirely, and to leave it for some other who by
and by should come after him.
It is worth while to remember that Mr. Lincoln was the most advised man,
often the worst advised man, in the annals of mankind. The torrent must
have been terribly confusing! Another instance deserves mention: shortly
before Mr. Seward's strange proposal, Governor Hicks, distracted at the
tumult in Maryland, had suggested that the quarrel between North and
South should be referred to Lord Lyons as arbitrator! It was difficult
to know whether to be amused or resentful before a proposition at once
so silly and so ignominious. Yet it came from an important official, and
it was only one instance among thousands. With war as an actuality, such
vagaries as those of Hicks and Seward came sharply to an end. People
wondered and talked somewhat as to how long hostilities would last, how
much they would cost, how they would end; and were not more correct in
these speculations than they had been in others. But though the day of
gross absurdities was over, the era of advice endured permanently. That
peculiar national trait whereby every American knows at least as much on
every subject whatsoever as is known by any other living man, produced
its full results during the war. Every clergyman and humanitarian, every
village politician and every city wire-puller, every one who conned the
maps of Virginia and imbibed the military wisdom of the newspapers,
every merchant who put his name to a subscription paper, considered it
his privilege and his duty to set the President right upon every
question of moral principle, of politics, of strategy, and of finance.
In one point of view it was not flattering that he should seem to stand
in need of so much instruction; and this was equally true whether it
came bitterly, as criticism from enemies, or sugar-coated, as advice
from friends. That friends felt obliged to advise so much was in itself
a criticism. Probably, however, Mr. Lincoln was not troubled by this
view, for he keenly appreciated the idiosyncrasies as well as the better
qualities of the people. They, however, were a long while in
understanding him sufficiently to recognize that there was never a man
whom it was less worth while to advise.
* * * * *
Business crowded upon Mr. Lincoln, and the variety and novelty of it was
without limit. On April 17 Jefferson Davis issued a proclamation
offering "letters of marque and reprisal" to owners of private armed
vessels. Two days later the President retorted by proclaiming a blockade
of Confederate ports.[144] Of course this could not be made effective
upon the moment. On March 4 the nominal total of vessels in the navy was
90. Of these, 69 were classed as "available;" but only 42 were actually
in commission; and even of these many were in Southern harbors, and fell
into the hands of the Confederates; many more were upon foreign and
distant stations. Indeed, the dispersion was so great that it was
commonly charged as having been intentionally arranged by secessionist
officials under Mr. Buchanan. Also, at the very moment when this
proclamation was being read throughout the country, the great navy yard
of Gosport, at Norfolk, Virginia, "always the favored depot" of the
government, with all its workshops and a great store of cannon and other
munitions, was passing into the hands of the enemy. Most of the vessels
and some other property were destroyed by Federals before the seizure
was consummated; nevertheless, the loss was severe. Moreover, even had
all the vessels of the regular navy been present, they would have had
other duties besides lying off Southern ports. Blockading squadrons,
therefore, had to be improvised, and orders at once issued for the
purchase and equipment of steam vessels from the merchant marine and
the coasting service. Fortunately the summer season was at hand, so that
these makeshifts were serviceable for many months, during which better
craft were rapidly got together by alteration and building. Three
thousand miles of coast and many harbors were included within the
blockade limits, and were distributed into departments under different
commanders. Each commander was instructed to declare his blockade in
force as soon as he felt able to make it tolerably effective, with the
expectation of rapidly improving its efficiency. The beginning was,
therefore, ragged, and was naturally criticised in a very jealous and
hostile spirit by those foreign nations who suffered by it. Dangerous
disputes threatened to arise, but were fortunately escaped, and in a
surprisingly short time "Yankee" enterprise made the blockade too
thorough for question.
Amid the first haste and pressure it was ingeniously suggested that,
since the government claimed jurisdiction over the whole country and
recognized only a rebellion strictly so called, therefore the President
could by proclamation simply _close_ ports at will. Secretary Welles
favored this course, and in the extra session of the summer of 1861
Congress passed a bill giving authority to Mr. Lincoln to pursue it, in
his discretion. Mr. Seward, with better judgment, said that it might be
legal, but would certainly be unwise. The position probably could have
been successfully maintained by lawyers before a bench of judges; but
to have relied upon it in the teeth of the commercial interests and
unfriendly sentiment of England and France would have been a fatal
blunder. Happily it was avoided; and the President had the shrewdness to
keep within a line which shut out technical discussion. Already he saw
that, so far as relations with foreigners were concerned, the domestic
theory of a rebellion, pure and simple, must be very greatly modified.
In a word, that which began as rebellion soon developed into civil war;
the two were closely akin, but with some important differences.
Nice points of domestic constitutional law also arose with the first
necessity for action, opening the broad question as to what course
should be pursued in doubtful cases, and worse still in those cases
where the government could not fairly claim the benefit of a real doubt.
The plain truth was that, in a condition faintly contemplated in the
Constitution, many things not permitted by the Constitution must be done
to preserve the Constitution. The present crisis had been very scantily
and vaguely provided for by "the fathers." The instant that action
became necessary to save the Union under the Constitution, it was
perfectly obvious that the Constitution must be stretched, transcended,
and most liberally interlined, in a fashion which would furnish annoying
arguments to the disaffected. The President looked over the situation,
and decided, in the proverbial phrase, to take the bull by the horns;
that which clearly ought to be done he would do, law or no law, doubt
or no doubt. He would have faith that the people would sustain him; and
that the courts and the lawyers, among whose functions it is to see to
it that laws and statutes do not interfere too seriously with the
convenience of the community, would arrive, in what subtle and
roundabout way they might choose, at the conclusion that whatever must
be done might be done. These learned gentlemen did their duty, and
developed the "war powers" under the Constitution in a manner equally
ingenious, comical, and sensible. But the fundamental basis was, that
necessity knows no law; every man in the country knew this, but the
well-intentioned denied it, as matter of policy, while the
ill-intentioned made such use of the opportunities thus afforded to them
as might have been expected. Among the "war Democrats," however, there
was at least ostensible liberality.
An early question related to the writ of habeas corpus. The Maryland
legislature was to meet on April 26, 1861, and was expected to guide the
State in the direction of secession. Many influential men urged the
President to arrest the members before they could do this. He, however,
conceived such an interference with a state government, in the present
condition of popular feeling, to be impolitic. "We cannot know in
advance," he said, "that the action will not be lawful and peaceful;"
and he instructed General Scott to watch them, and, in case they should
make a movement towards arraying the people against the United States,
to counteract it by "the bombardment of their cities, and, in the
extremest necessity, the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus." This
intimation that the suspension of the venerated writ was a measure
graver than even bombarding a city, surely indicated sufficient respect
for laws and statutes. The legislators restrained their rebellious ardor
and proved the wisdom of Mr. Lincoln's moderation. In the autumn,
however, the crisis recurred, and then the arrests seemed the only means
of preventing the passage of an ordinance of secession. Accordingly the
order was issued and executed. Public opinion upheld it, and Governor
Hicks afterward declared his belief that only by this action had
Maryland been saved from destruction.
The privilege of habeas corpus could obviously, however, be made
dangerously serviceable to disaffected citizens. Therefore, April 27,
the President instructed General Scott: "If at any point on or in the
vicinity of any military line which is now, or which shall be, used
between the city of Philadelphia and the city of Washington, you find it
necessary to suspend the writ of habeas corpus for the public safety,
you ... are authorized to suspend that writ." Several weeks elapsed
before action was taken under this authority. Then, on May 25, John
Merryman, recruiting in Maryland for the Confederate service, was seized
and imprisoned in Fort McHenry. Chief Justice Taney granted a writ of
habeas corpus. General Cadwalader replied that he held Merryman upon a
charge of treason, and that he had authority under the President's
letter to suspend the writ. The chief justice thereupon issued against
the general an attachment for contempt, but the marshal was refused
admittance to the fort. The chief justice then filed with the clerk, and
also sent to the President, his written opinion, in which he said: "I
understand that the President not only claims the right to suspend the
writ of habeas corpus at his discretion, but to delegate that
discretionary power to a military officer;" whereas, according to the
view of his honor, the power did not lie even with the President
himself, but only with Congress. Warming to the discussion, he used
pretty strong language, to the effect that, if authority intrusted to
other departments could thus "be usurped by the military power at its
discretion, the people ... are no longer living under a government of
laws; but every citizen holds life, liberty, and property at the will
and pleasure of the army officer in whose military district he may
happen to be found." It was unfortunate that the country should hear
such phrases launched by the chief justice against the President, or at
least against acts done under orders of the President. Direct retort was
of course impossible, and the dispute was in abeyance for a short
time.[145] But the predilections of the judicial hero of the Dred Scott
decision were such as to give rise to grave doubts as to whether or not
the Union could be saved by any process which would not often run
counter to his ideas of the law; therefore in this matter the President
continued to exercise the useful and probably essential power, though
taking care, for the future, to have somewhat more regard for form.
Thus, on May 10, instead of simply writing a letter, he issued through
the State Department a proclamation authorizing the Federal commander on
the Florida coast, "if he shall find it necessary, to suspend there the
writ of habeas corpus."
In due time the assembling of Congress gave Mr. Lincoln the opportunity
to present his side of the case. In his message he said that arrests,
and suspension of the writ, had been made "very sparingly;" and that, if
authority had been stretched, at least the question was pertinent: "Are
all the laws but one to go unexecuted, and the government itself to go
to pieces, lest that one be violated?" He, however, believed that in
fact this question was not presented, and that the law had not been
violated. "The provision of the Constitution, that the privilege of the
writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended unless when, in cases of
rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require it, is equivalent
to a provision that such privilege may be suspended when, in cases of
rebellion or invasion, the public safety does require it." As between
Congress and the executive, "the Constitution itself is silent as to
which or who is to exercise the power; and as the provision was plainly
made for a dangerous emergency it cannot be believed that the framers of
the instrument intended that in every case the danger should run its
course until Congress could be called together, the very assembling of
which might be prevented, as was intended in this case by the
rebellion."
If it was difficult, it was also undesirable to confute the President's
logic. The necessity for military arrests and for indefinite detention
of the arrested persons was undeniable. Congress therefore recognized
the legality of what had been done, and the power was frequently
exercised thereafter, and to great advantage. Of course mistakes
occurred, and subordinates made some arrests which had better have been
left unmade; but these bore only upon discretion in individual cases,
not upon inherent right. The topic, however, was in itself a tempting
one, not only for the seriously disaffected, but for the far larger body
of the quarrelsome, who really wanted the government to do its work, yet
maliciously liked to make the process of doing it just as difficult and
as disagreeable as possible. Later on, when the malcontent class
acquired the organization of a distinct political body, no other charge
against the administration proved so plausible and so continuously
serviceable as this. It invited to florid declamation profusely
illustrated with impressive historical allusions, and to the free use of
vague but grand and sonorous phrases concerning "usurpation," "the
subjection of the life, liberty, and property of every citizen to the
mere will of a military commander," and other like terrors.
Unfortunately men much more deserving of respect than the Copperheads,
men of sound loyalty and high ability, but of anxious and conservative
temperament, were led by their fears to criticise severely arrests of
men who were as dangerous to the government as if they had been soldiers
of the Confederacy.
May 3, 1861, by which time military exigencies had become better
understood, Mr. Lincoln called "into the service of the United States
42,034 volunteers," and directed that the regular army should be
increased by an aggregate of 22,714 officers and enlisted men. More
suggestive than the mere increase was the fact that the volunteers were
now required "to serve for a period of three years, unless sooner
discharged." The opinion of the government as to the magnitude of the
task in hand was thus for the first time conveyed to the people. They
received it seriously and without faltering.
July 4, 1861, the Thirty-seventh Congress met in extra session, and the
soundness of the President's judgment in setting a day which had at
first been condemned as too distant was proved. In the interval, nothing
had been lost which could have been saved by the sitting of Congress;
while, on the other hand, the members had had the great advantage of
having time to think soberly concerning the business before them, and to
learn the temper and wishes of their constituents.
Mr. Lincoln took great pains with his message, which he felt to be a
very important document. It was his purpose to say simply what events
had occurred, what questions had been opened, and what necessities had
arisen; to display the situation and to state facts fairly and fully,
but not apparently to argue the case of the North. Yet it was essential
for him so to do this that no doubt could be left as to where the right
lay. This peculiar process of argument by statement had constituted his
special strength at the bar, and he now gave an excellent instance of
it. He briefly sketched the condition of public affairs at the time when
he assumed the government; he told the story of Sumter, and of the
peculiar process whereby Virginia had been linked to the Confederacy.
With a tinge of irony he remarked that, whether the sudden change of
feeling among the members of the Virginian Convention was "wrought by
their great approval of the assault upon Sumter, or their great
resentment at the government's resistance to that assault, is not
definitely known."
He explained the effect of the neutrality theory of the Border States.
"This," he said, "would be disunion completed. Figuratively speaking, it
would be the building of an impassable wall along the line of
separation,--and yet not quite an impassable one, for under the guise of
neutrality it would tie the hands of the Union men, and freely pass
supplies to the insurrectionists.... At a stroke it would take all the
trouble off the hands of secession, except what proceeds from the
external blockade." It would give to the disunionists "disunion, without
a struggle of their own."
Of the blockade and the calls for troops, he said: "These measures,
whether strictly legal or not, were ventured upon under what appeared to
be a popular demand and a public necessity, trusting then, as now, that
Congress would ratify them." At the same time he stated the matter of
the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, which has been already
referred to.
Speaking of the doctrine that secession was lawful under the
Constitution, and that it was not rebellion, he made plain the genuine
significance of the issue thus raised: "It presents ... the question
whether a Constitutional Republic or Democracy, a government of the
people by the same people, can or cannot maintain its territorial
integrity against its own domestic foes. It presents the question
whether discontented individuals, too few in numbers to control the
administration according to the organic law in any case, can always,
upon the pretenses made in this case, or any other pretenses, or
arbitrarily without any pretense, break up their government, and thus
practically put an end to free government upon the earth. It forces us
to ask: Is there in all Republics this inherent fatal weakness? Must a
government of necessity be too strong for the liberties of its own
people, or too weak to maintain its own existence?" The Constitution of
the Confederacy was a paraphrase with convenient adaptations of the
Constitution of the United States. A significant one of these
adaptations was the striking out of the first three words, "We, the
people," and the substitution of the words, "We, the deputies of the
sovereign and independent States." "Why," said Mr. Lincoln, "why this
deliberate pressing out of view the rights of men and the authority of
the people? This is essentially a people's contest. On the side of the
Union it is a struggle for maintaining in the world that form and
substance of government whose leading object is to elevate the condition
of men ... to afford to all an unfettered start and a fair chance in the
race of life.... This is the leading object of the government for whose
existence we contend. I am most happy to believe that the plain people
understand and appreciate this."
Many persons, not gifted with the power of thinking clearly, were
disturbed at what seemed to them a purpose to "invade" and to
"subjugate" sovereign States,--as though a government could invade its
own country or subjugate its own subjects! These phrases, he said, were
producing "uneasiness in the minds of candid men" as to what would be
the course of the government toward the Southern States after the
suppression of the rebellion. The President assured them that he had no
expectation of changing the views set forth in his inaugural address;
that he desired "to preserve the government, that it may be administered
for all as it was administered by the men who made it. Loyal citizens
everywhere have a right to expect this,... and the government has no
right to withhold or neglect it. It is not perceived that in giving it
there is any coercion, any conquest, or any subjugation."
In closing he said that it was with the deepest regret that he had used
the war power; but "in defense of the government, forced upon him, he
could but perform this duty or surrender the existence of the
government." Compromise would have been useless, for "no popular
government can long survive a marked precedent that those who carry an
election can only save the government from immediate destruction by
giving up the main point upon which the people gave the election." To
those who would have had him compromise he explained that only the
people themselves, not their servants, can safely reverse their own
deliberate decisions. He had no power to agree to divide the country
which he had the duty to govern. "As a private citizen the executive
could not have consented that these institutions shall perish; much less
could he, in betrayal of so vast and so sacred a trust as these free
people have confided to him. He felt that he had no moral right to
shrink, nor even to count the chances of his own life in what might
follow."
The only direct request made in the message was that, to make "this
contest a short and decisive one," Congress would "place at the control
of the government for the work at least 400,000 men, and $400,000,000.
That number of men is about one tenth of those of proper ages within the
regions where apparently all are willing to engage, and the sum is less
than a twenty-third part of the money value owned by the men who seem
ready to devote the whole."
The message was well received by the people, as it deserved to be.
The proceedings of Congress can only be referred to with brevity. Yet a
mere recital of the names of the more noteworthy members of the Senate
and the House must be intruded, if merely for the flavor of reminiscence
which it will bring to readers who recall those times. In the Senate,
upon the Republican side, there were: Lyman Trumbull from Illinois,
James Harlan and James W. Grimes from Iowa, William P. Fessenden from
Maine, Charles Sumner and Henry Wilson from Massachusetts, Zachariah
Chandler from Michigan, John P. Hale from New Hampshire, Benjamin F.
Wade from Ohio, and John Sherman, who was elected to fill the vacancy
created by the appointment of Salmon P. Chase to the Treasury
Department, David Wilmot from Pennsylvania, filling the place of Simon
Cameron, Henry B. Anthony from Rhode Island, Andrew Johnson from
Tennessee, Jacob Collamer from Vermont, and James R. Doolittle from
Wisconsin. On the Democratic side, there were: James A. McDougall of
California, James A. Bayard and William Saulsbury of Delaware, Jesse D.
Bright of Indiana, who was expelled February 5, 1862, John C.
Breckenridge of Kentucky, who a little later openly joined the
Secessionists, and was formally expelled December 4, 1861; he was
succeeded by Garrett Davis, an "American or Old Line Whig," by which
name he and two senators from Maryland preferred to be described; James
W. Nesmith of Oregon. Lane and Pomeroy, the first senators from the free
State of Kansas, were seated. In the House Galusha A. Grow of
Pennsylvania, who had lately knocked down Mr. Keitt of South Carolina in
a fisticuff encounter on the floor of the chamber, was chosen speaker,
over Francis P. Blair, Jr., of Missouri. Thaddeus Stevens of
Pennsylvania was the most prominent man in the body. Among many familiar
names in running down the list the eye lights upon James E. English of
Connecticut; E.B. Washburne, Isaac N. Arnold, and Owen Lovejoy of
Illinois; Julian, Voorhees, and Schuyler Colfax of Indiana; Crittenden
of Kentucky; Roscoe Conkling, Reuben E. Fenton, and Erastus Corning of
New York; George H. Pendleton, Vallandigham, Ashley, Shellabarger, and
S.S. Cox of Ohio; Covode of Pennsylvania; Maynard of Tennessee. The
members came together in very good temper; and the great preponderance
of Republicans secured dispatch in the conduct of business; for the
cliques which soon produced intestine discomfort in that dominant party
were not yet developed. No ordinary legislation was entered upon; but in
twenty-nine working days seventy-six public Acts were passed, of which
all but four bore directly upon the extraordinary emergency. The demands
of the President were met, with additions: 500,000 men and $500,000,000
were voted; $207,000,000 were appropriated to the army, and $56,000,000
to the navy. August 6 Congress adjourned.
* * * * *
The law-makers were treated, during their session, to what was regarded,
in the inexperience of those days, as a spectacle of real war. During a
couple of months past large bodies of men had been gathering together,
living in tents, shouldering guns, and taking the name of armies.
General Butler was in command at Fortress Monroe, and was faced by
Colonel Magruder, who held the peninsula between the York and the James
rivers. Early in June the lieutenants of these two commanders performed
the comical fiasco of the "battle" of Big Bethel. In this skirmish the
Federal regiments fired into each other, and then retreated, while the
Confederates withdrew; but in language of absurd extravagance the
Confederate colonel reported that he had won a great victory, and
Northern men flushed beneath the ridicule incurred by the blunder of
their troops.
A smaller affair at Vienna was more ridiculous; several hundred
soldiers, aboard a train of cars, started upon a reconnoissance, as if
it had been a picnic. The Confederates fired upon them with a couple of
small cannon, and they hastily took to the woods. When they got home
they talked wisely about "masked batteries." But the shrewdness and
humor of the people were not thus turned aside, and the "masked battery"
long made the point of many a bitter jest.
Up the river, Harper's Ferry was held by "Stonewall" Jackson, who was
soon succeeded by J.E. Johnston. Confronting and watching this force was
General Patterson, at Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, with a body of men
rapidly growing to considerable numbers by the daily coming of recruits.
Not very far away, southeastward, the main body of the Confederate army,
under Beauregard, lay at Manassas, and the main body of the Federal
army, under McDowell, was encamped along the Potomac. On May 23 the
Northern advance crossed that river, took possession of Arlington
Heights and of Alexandria, and began work upon permanent defensive
intrenchments in front of the capital.
The people of the North knew nothing about war or armies. Wild with
enthusiasm and excitement, they cheered the departing regiments, which,
as they vaguely and eagerly fancied, were to begin fighting at once.
Yet it was true that no one would stake his money on a "football team"
which should go into a game trained in a time so short as that which had
been allowed for bringing into condition for the manoeuvres and
battlefields of a campaign an army of thirty or forty thousand men, with
staff and commissariat, and arms of infantry, cavalry, and artillery,
altogether constituting an organization vast, difficult, and complex in
the highest degree of human coöperation. Nevertheless "On to Richmond!"
rolled up the imperious cry from every part of the North. The
government, either sharing in this madness, or feeling that it must be
yielded to, passed the word to the commander, and McDowell very
reluctantly obeyed orders and started with his army in that
direction,--not, however, with any real hope of reaching this nominal
objective; for he was an intelligent man and a good soldier, and was
perfectly aware of the unfitness of his army. But when, protesting, he
suggested that his troops were "green," he was told to remember that the
Southern troops were of the same tint; for, in a word, the North was
bound to have a fight, and would by no means endure that the three
months' men should come home without doing something more positive than
merely preventing the capture of Washington.
On July 16, therefore, McDowell began his advance, having with him about
35,000 men, and by the 19th he was at the stream of Bull Run, behind
which the Confederates lay. He planned his battle skillfully, and began
his attack on the morning of the 21st. On the other hand, Beauregard was
at the double disadvantage of misapprehending his opponent's purpose,
and of failing to get his orders conveyed to his lieutenants until the
fight was far advanced. The result was, that at the beginning of the
afternoon the Federals had almost won a victory which they fully
deserved. That they did not finally secure it was due to the
inefficiency of General Patterson. This general had crossed the Potomac
a few days before and had been instructed to watch Johnston, who had
drawn back near Winchester, and either to prevent him from moving his
force from the Shenandoah Valley to Manassas, or, failing this, to keep
close to him and unite with McDowell. But Patterson neither detained nor
followed his opponent. On July 18 Beauregard telegraphed to Johnston:
"If you wish to help me, now is the time." If Patterson wished to help
McDowell, then, also, was the time. The Southern general seized his
opportunity, and the Northern general let his opportunity go. Johnston,
uninterrupted and unfollowed by Patterson, brought his troops in from
Manassas Junction upon the right wing of the Federals at the very moment
and crisis when the battle was actually in the process of going in their
favor. Directly all was changed. Older troops would not have stood, and
these untried ones were defeated as soon as they were attacked. Speedily
retreat became rout, and rout became panic. At a great speed the
frightened soldiers, resolved into a mere disorganized mob of
individuals, made their way back to the camps on the Potomac; many
thought Washington safer, and some did not stop short of their distant
Northern homes.
The Southerners, who had been on the point of running away when the
Northerners anticipated them in so doing, now triumphed immoderately,
and uttered boastings magniloquent enough for Homeric heroes. Yet they
were, as General Johnston said, "almost as much disorganized by victory
as were the Federals by defeat." Many of them also hastened to their
homes, spreading everywhere the cheering tidings that the war was over
and the South had won.
In point of fact, it was a stage of the war when defeat was more
wholesome than victory. Fortunately, too, the North was not even
momentarily discouraged. The people had sense enough to see that what
had happened was precisely what should have been expected. A little
humiliated at their own folly, about as much vexed with themselves as
angry with their enemies, they turned to their work in a new spirit.
Persistence displaced excitement, as three years' men replaced three
months' men. The people settled down to a long, hard task. Besides this,
they had now some idea of what was necessary to be done in order to
succeed in that task. Invaluable lessons had been learned, and no lives
which were lost in the war bore fruit of greater usefulness than did
those which seemed to have been foolishly thrown away at Bull Run.
FOOTNOTES:
[143] So said Hon. George W. Julian, somewhat ruefully acknowledging
that Lincoln "was always himself the President." _Polit. Recoll._ 190.
[144] South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana,
and Texas were covered by this proclamation; on April 27, North Carolina
and Virginia were added.
[145] For the documents in this case, and also for some of the more
famous professional opinions thereon, see McPherson, _Hist. of
Rebellion, 154 et seq._; also (of course from the side of the chief
justice), Tyler's _Taney_, 420-431; and see original draft of the
President's message on this subject; N. and H. iv. 176.