SPEAKER OF THE ILLINOIS LEGISLATURE AND A MEMBER OF CONGRESS
1860 to 1865
The election of Mr. Lincoln was made the pretext for secession.
It has always seemed to me that the South was determined to secede
no matter at what cost; and it has also seemed to me that this
determination was not due to the great body of the people of the
South, than whom there were no better, but to the jealous politicians
of that section, who saw the gradual growth in wealth and power of
the Northern States threaten their domination of the National
Government, which they had firmly held since the days of Washington.
They saw that domination slipping away, and they determined to form
a nation of their own--in which slavery, indeed, would be paramount;
but it was not so much slavery as it was their own desire for
control that influenced them.
As soon, therefore, as Mr. Lincoln was elected President they began
the organization of a Government of their own. President Buchanan
declared in his message that the Southern States had no right to
secede--"unless they wanted to," as some one aptly expressed it;
in other words, that he had no right under the Constitution to keep
them forcibly in the Union, and thus the constitutional opinions
of the President harmonized effectively with the purposes of the
secessionists. Fortunate it was that Mr. Buchanan had so short a
term remaining after the election of Mr. Lincoln. Had a year or
two elapsed, the Confederacy would have been firmly and irrevocably
established.
It has never been quite clear to my mind whether Mr. Buchanan cared
to preserve the Union or not. In the heat and passion of that day,
we all thought he was a traitor. As I look back now and think of
it, remembering his long and distinguished service to the country
in almost every capacity--as a legislator, as a diplomat, as
Secretary of State, as President, I think now he was only weak.
His term was about expiring, and he saw and feared the awful
consequences of a civil war.
One State after another seceded; the United States' arms and arsenals
were seized; on January 9, the _Star of the West_, carrying supplies
to Fort Sumter, was fired upon and driven off. South Carolina,
Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas went
out. The Confederate States of America were organized in the capital
of Alabama on the fourth of February, and Jefferson Davis was
elected President.
We watched with great interest the famous Peace Conference which
met in Washington and over which John Tyler, ex-President of the
United States, presided. It sat during the month of February,
preceding Mr. Lincoln's inauguration, and recommended the adoption
of seven additional articles to the Constitution, which were
afterwards rejected by the Senate of the United States.
But the fourth of March finally came, and new life was infused into
the national councils.
Mr. Lincoln's speeches on his way East were a disappointment, in
that they failed in the least to abate the rising Southern storm;
the calmly firm tone of his inaugural address impressed the North,
but his appeals to the South were in vain. Said he:
"I declare that I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to
interfere with the institution of slavery in the States where it
exists. . . . The Union of these States is perpetual. It is safe
to assert that no Government proper ever had a provision in its
organic law for its own termination. The power confided to me will
be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property and places
belonging to the Government and to collect the duties and imposts."
It was a notable appeal that he made, in closing, to the
Southerners:
"In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in mine,
is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will not assail
you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the
aggressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the
Government, while I shall have the most solemn one to 'preserve,
protect, and defend it.'
"I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must
not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break
our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching
from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and
hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of
the union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better
angels of our nature."
At the same time that Mr. Lincoln was first elected President of
the United States, I was for the second time elected to the
Legislature of Illinois. I received the vote of what they called
the Republicans, or Free-soil men, and of those who were previously
known as Fillmore men. I was always in thorough accord with Mr.
Lincoln in political sentiment, though I had supported Fillmore
rather than Fremont in 1856. I most heartily supported Lincoln's
candidacy, and as candidate for the Legislature received more votes
than Mr. Lincoln received in Sangamon County. Douglas carried the
county as against Lincoln, and I carried it as against my opponent.
There was great enthusiasm for Mr. Lincoln in the county, but he
was so positive and outspoken in his convictions on the slavery
question that he failed to get a considerable number of votes; many
went to other Republicans who did not express their views so
vigorously as he did. Of course, what he lost at home because of
zeal and earnestness in his cause, was more than made up to him on
the wider field covered by his candidacy.
Stephen A. Hurlbut was a member of that Legislature, and afterward
became a prominent general in the army. I might say that General
Hurlbut and Lawrence Church were two very strong men, both from
the northern part of the State, and both became prominent in the
public service. I might say also that but for these two men, who
put me forward as a candidate for the Speakership, I probably would
not have become a candidate. On the Saturday night before the
Monday on which the Legislature was to convene, they pressed me so
strongly that I consented, and became the nominee of my party
associates. J. W. Singleton was the Democratic nominee. Before
the Legislature convened, and during the intervening Sunday, a
feeling got abroad among the older members of the Legislature that
I was too young to be trusted in such a responsible position as
that of Speaker. When I came down-town on Sunday I found that
feeling prevailing.
I at once took notice of it, and stated that if there was any
feeling that I had done wrong in becoming a candidate, I would
submit the question to another test of the sense of the Republicans
in the Legislature, and if they thought I ought not to have the
position I would cheerfully yield to their judgment. The caucus
was called together Monday morning, and I stated that I had heard
that there was some dissatisfaction, and I desired to have another
vote. A vote was accordingly taken, and I was again nominated,
and by a larger vote then in the first instance; whereupon the older
men gave in, and I was duly elected, receiving thirty-nine votes
to twenty-nine cast for the Democratic candidate.
I think I made more friends, in the conduct of the office of Speaker
during that term, than I ever did afterwards; and in subsequent
campaigns I was frequently gratified to find men, some of them
Democrats, who had been in the Legislature with me at that time,
working for me with a stronger zeal and earnestness because of the
associations and intimate relations there formed and cemented.
All classes, Republicans and Democrats alike, took occasion to
manifest their satisfaction, and some who became my friends then
continued so as long as they lived. I think, of all that Legislature,
I am the only one left.
A little incident occurred at a reception given by Mr. Lincoln
after he was elected President, but before he left his home to come
to Washington, that vitally affected my life. In speaking to the
President, I expressed a desire to visit Washington while he was
President of the United States. He replied heartily: "Mr. Speaker,
come on." And that was about the origin of my thinking seriously
that I would like to come to Washington as a member of Congress.
The more I thought of the idea, the more interested I became, and
I so shaped matters during that session of the Legislature as to
secure a district in which some Republican could hope to be elected.
In the apportionment under the census of 1860, I had our Congressional
district elongated to the north and south rather than to the east
and west, and let it be known that I would be a candidate.
But when the time came for a nomination the Hon. Leonard Swett,
who was then a prominent lawyer and politician, also took the field
to secure the Republican nomination. He visited Springfield, and
persuaded some of his friends there that he ought to be the nominee,
and they determined to try their hands toward securing my withdrawal,
if possible by persuasion. They sent for me to come to the library,
where they were proposing to hold a meeting. I went over, and
found that their project was to get me to withdraw in favor of
Swett, and I declined. But I said I would "draw straws," or assent
to any other fair means that could be found by which it was to be
settled who was to be the nominee of the party. Then, after some
further parleying, I finally left the conference.
That evening after dusk I met Swett on the street. We sat down
upon the curbstone, as it was growing a little dark, and talked
the matter over. Swett said to me that he was an older man than
I was; that he had been knocked about a good deal, and, though he
had done much work for the party, he had never got anything; and
if the present opportunity for reward for services were allowed to
pass him by another opportunity was not likely, at his age, to come
to him. Finally, I said: "Mr. Swett, if you had come to me and
made this suggestion at first, I would have been very glad indeed
to make the concession to you, and I am ready to do so now. Here
is my hand on it, and I will help you at the convention." He became
the party candidate by general consent, as I remember it. At all
events he was the candidate, and unfortunately he was beaten at
the polls. That was in 1862. So that while the Congressional
district was made by me, and for myself, I gave way to Mr. Swett,
and the opposition carried it. Two years afterwards I was the
candidate and was elected.
The majority in the counties composing the district was ordinarily
Republican. As a result of Mr. Swett's defeat, he left the district,
though a very prominent lawyer, and went to Chicago, never to return
to the Congressional district in which he had lived so many years,
really quitting politics entirely.
I suppose I ought to state the fact that, having made the district
for myself and then given it up to Mr. Swett, I determined to be
a candidate at the next election; whereupon I found that Mr. James
C. Conkling, a friend of mine, and a special friend of Mr. Lincoln
also, some of whose family are still living, was disposed to try
for the same office. I made up my mind that in order to keep myself
in trim for the future it was well to keep in touch with the voters;
and I determined to run for the State Senate, though the four
counties composing the Senatorial district were all Democratic and
all in the Congressional district in which Swett was the defeated
candidate, yet I desired to run for the Senate, in order to keep
Conkling from getting such a hold on the district as to strengthen
him for the contest two years afterwards.
So I made the run, and was beaten, of course, every county in the
district being Democratic; and the rest of my plans also worked
out as I had calculated they would.
Soon after I was elected to Congress, and soon after Mr. Lincoln
was elected the second time, I came on to Washington. Having been
intimate with Mr. Nicolay and Mr. Hay who were his secretaries, I
was in the habit of frequenting their rooms without ceremony. One
evening, just after dusk, I went to the White House and quietly,
as usual, entered Mr. Nicolay's room. It so happened that Mr.
Lincoln and Mr. Seward, with some other cabinet officers, were in
the room, holding a consultation. I had opened the door before I
observed who were there. President Lincoln saw me quite as soon
as I saw him, and I was very much embarrassed. He sang out cheerily,
"Come in!" and turning to his Secretary of State, he added, "Seward,
you remember my old friend Stuart? Here is the boy that beat him."
I stayed for only a moment, and then went out. That is the nearest
I ever came to participating in a cabinet meeting.
That incident in my life, as I now look back, punctuates, in my
individual way of thinking at this moment, the substantial close
of what was mortal in that great man's earthly career. The close
of the four years of civil war was clearly in sight. It was in
many respects a record-making and a record-breaking war. The navies
of the world, rendered helpless by the incidental effects of its
thundering guns, had to be rebuilt. For the first time in the
world's history the railroad and the electric telegraph played a
very considerable part. The grip of insatiate despotism on Democratic
institutions was effectually loosened far and wide. For the first
time in war the lessons taught in the art of warfare by Alexander
and Caesar were utterly ignored, and the "Maxims of Napoleon" were
relegated to the shelf, there to gather dust. In short, in
inaugurated a new era in the history not only of our own country
but of the entire world.