"In the mean time our friends, with a view of detaining our expected

bolters, had been turning from me to Trumbull until he had risen to 35

and I had been reduced to 15. These would never desert me except by my

direction; but I became satisfied that if we could prevent Matteson's

election one or two ballots more, we could possibly not do so a single

ballot after my friends should begin to return to me from Trumbull. So

I determined to strike at once; and accordingly advised my remaining

friends to go for him, which they did, and elected him on that, the

tenth ballot. Such is the way the thing was done. I think you would

have done the same under the circumstances, though Judge Davis, who

came down this morning, declares he never would have consented to the

47 (opposition) men being controlled by the 5. I regret my defeat

moderately, but am not nervous about it. Perhaps it is well for our

grand cause that Trumbull is elected."

And it turned out well for Lincoln, too, because if he had been elected

Senator at that time he would never have taken the part he did in the

organization of the Republican party, he would never have had the joint

debate with Senator Douglas, and in all probability would not have been

elected President. Lincoln resumed the practice of his profession,

but did not retire from politics again. He took an active interest in

every campaign, devoting much of his time to committee work and to

the preparation of political literature, extending his acquaintance

and increasing his popularity. In the winter of 1855 he attended a

meeting of Free-Soil editors at Decatur, who decided upon organizing a

Republican party in Illinois and called a convention of all who believed

in resisting the extension of slavery to meet at Bloomington in May.

Lincoln was present, made a remarkable speech, which is described in

Chapter III., was sent as a delegate to the First National Republican

Convention at Philadelphia, and, much to his surprise, received 110

votes for Vice-President on the ticket with Frémont. He was made an

elector, canvassed the State thoroughly, making more than fifty set

speeches during the campaign, and served as a member of the State

Committee.

Mr. Horace White, editor of the _New York Evening Post_, then connected

with the _Chicago Tribune_, gives his recollections of Lincoln in the

campaign: "I was Secretary of the Republican State Committee of Illinois

during some years when he was in active campaign work. He was often

present at meetings of the committee, and took part in the committee

work. His judgment was very much deferred to in such matters. He was one

of the shrewdest politicians in the State. Nobody had more experience

in that way, nobody knew better than he what was passing in the minds

of the people. Nobody knew better how to turn things to advantage

politically, and nobody was readier to take such advantage, provided

it did not involve dishonorable means. He could not cheat people out

of their votes any more than he could out of their money. Mr. Lincoln

never gave his assent, so far as my knowledge goes, to any plan or

project for getting votes that would not have borne the full light of

day.

"I never heard him express contempt for any man's honest errors,

although he would sometimes make a droll remark or tell a funny story

about them. Deference to other people's opinions was habitual to him.

There was no calculation, no politics in it. It was part and parcel of

his sense of equal rights. His democracy was of the unconscious kind--he

did not know anything different from it."

In the fall of 1858 there was an election of the Illinois Legislature

which would choose a successor to Senator Douglas, whose term of service

was to expire March 3, 1859. The Republican party at that time was

thoroughly organized and presented a united and enthusiastic front, with

encouraging prospects of victory, and Lincoln was again its candidate

for the United States Senate. The sympathy of his associates and the

people generally over his defeat three years before, their appreciation

of his services, their admiration for his ability, and their confidence

in his integrity and judgment made him the unanimous choice, and for

the first time in history the State Republican Convention passed a

resolution to that effect. Then followed the most extraordinary canvass

that has ever taken place in any of the States of the Union,--the

joint debate between Lincoln and Douglas which is described in Chapter

III., followed by Lincoln's second defeat for the Senate. Many of

Lincoln's friends believed that he might have been elected but for the

interference of Horace Greeley, Seward, Colfax, Burlingame, and other

earnest Republicans and antislavery men of national prominence, who

urged the people of Illinois to support Douglas because he had opposed

the Buchanan administration and had been denounced by the slave-holders

of the South. But, while Lincoln was deeply wounded by this betrayal

of what he considered a vital political principle, he realized that

the existing apportionment of the State made his election improbable

because it had been based upon the census of 1850 and gave the southern

and Democratic counties an excessive representation over the northern

Republican counties, which had more rapidly increased in population. The

Republican State officers were chosen by a considerable majority, but

the Democrats had eight majority in the Legislature, and Mr. Douglas was

elected.

Lincoln had passed through an intense canvass, equally trying to

his physical and mental endurance, and his strength as well as his

temper were sorely tried; but he was never more composed, patient,

and philosophical, and to his friends he wrote hopeful and cheerful

letters, taking greater satisfaction in the reputation he had made and

the results he had accomplished than he would have felt in a commission

as United States Senator. As he told many people, he was not trying to

defeat Douglas for Senator so much as to prevent his election to the

Presidency, and he succeeded in doing so. The attention of the entire

country had been drawn to the canvass in Illinois, Lincoln's name had

become known everywhere throughout the country, and, as a Chicago editor

wrote him, "You have at once sprung from the position of a capital

fellow and a leading lawyer of Illinois to a national reputation."

Another friend wrote him, "You have made a noble canvass, which, if

unavailing in this State, has earned you a national reputation and made

you friends everywhere."

Lincoln's own view of the case is expressed in a letter to a friend as

follows: "I wished, but I did not much expect, a better result.... I am

glad I made the late race. It gave me a hearing on the great and durable

question of the age, which I could have had in no other way; and though

I now sink out of view, and shall be forgotten, I believe I have made

some marks which will tell for the cause of civil liberty long after I

am gone."

The folly of the Eastern Republicans in encouraging the election of

Douglas was demonstrated immediately after the election, when that

gentleman started upon a tour through the South and made a series of

speeches in which he endeavored to convince the slave-holders that he

was their best friend and should be their candidate for the Presidency.

At the same time Lincoln was invited to speak in the Eastern States,

and, after his address in Cooper Institute, New York City, made a

tour through New England, creating great interest and making many

friends. He became a national character, and his advice was sought by

national leaders, to whom his sagacity was immediately apparent. He

spent a great deal of time and wrote many letters during the winter of

1858-59, harmonizing the Republican party, concentrating its efforts,

and reconciling local prejudices and preferences which conflicted

and imperilled its success at the next election. He seemed gifted

with foresight that was almost prophetic, for he pointed out with

extraordinary accuracy the probable policy which would be pursued by the

Democrats, and his suggestions as to the best means for the Republicans

to adopt were broad, wise, and statesmanlike. For example, referring

to a provision adopted by Massachusetts to restrict naturalization, he

wrote, "Massachusetts is a sovereign and independent State, and it is no

privilege of mine to scold her for what she does. Still, if from what

she has done an inference is sought to be drawn as to what I would do, I

may, without impropriety, speak out. I say, then, that, as I understand

the Massachusetts provision, I am against its adoption in Illinois, or

in any other place where I have a right to oppose it. Understanding the

spirit of our institutions to aid at the elevation of men, I am opposed

to whatever tends to degrade them. I have some little notoriety for

commiserating the oppressed condition of the negro; and I should be

strangely inconsistent if I could favor any project for curtailing the

existing rights of white men, even though born in different lands and

speaking different languages from myself."

He wrote from Springfield to Schuyler Colfax (afterwards Vice-President

of the United States), July 6, 1859, "Besides a strong desire to make

your personal acquaintance, I was anxious to speak with you on politics

a little more fully than I can well do in a letter. My main object in

such conversation would be to hedge against divisions in the Republican

ranks generally, and particularly for the contest of 1860. The point

of danger is the temptation in different localities to 'platform' for

something which will be popular just there, but which, nevertheless,

will be a firebrand elsewhere, and especially in a national convention.

As instances, the movement against foreigners in Massachusetts; in

New Hampshire, to make obedience to the fugitive-slave law punishable

as a crime; in Ohio, to repeal the fugitive-slave law; and squatter

sovereignty in Kansas. In these things there is explosive matter enough

to blow up half a dozen national conventions, if it gets into them; and

what gets very rife outside of conventions is very likely to find its

way into them."

The idea of making Lincoln a Presidential candidate seems to have

occurred to a great many people at about the same time, and shortly

after his inauguration a regiment might have been organized of the

friends who first named him. There are, however, some letters preserved

which show that the suggestion had been made to him early in 1859, long

before the Cooper Institute address; indeed, immediately after the close

of the Senatorial fight in 1858 an editorial friend in Illinois wrote

him as follows: "I would like to have a talk with you on political

matters, as to the policy of announcing your name for the Presidency,

while you are in our city. My partner and myself are about addressing

the Republican editors of the State on the subject of a simultaneous

announcement of your name for the Presidency."

To this Lincoln replied, "As to the other matter you kindly mention, I

must in candor say that I do not think myself fit for the Presidency. I

certainly am flattered and gratified that some partial friends think of

me in that connection; but I really think it best for our cause that no

concerted effort, such as you suggest, should be made."

It would seem from other remarks made at the time that he was planning

another fight with Douglas and had the patience to wait six years to

renew the contest. He wrote several friends that he intended to fight

in the ranks, and declined to be a candidate for the Senate against

Trumbull; but while he was writing those letters, about January 1, 1860,

there was a conference at Springfield of the Republican leaders of

the State, said to have been called by Mr. Norman B. Judd, at which a

serious and organized effort was begun to secure his nomination. One of

the gentlemen present says, "We asked him if his name might be used in

connection with the nomination. With characteristic modesty, he doubted

whether he could get the nomination even if he wished it, and asked

until the next morning to answer us whether his name might be announced.

The next day he authorized us, if we thought proper to do so, 'to place

him in the field.' In answer to a question whether he would accept a

nomination for Vice-President if he could not be put on the first place

on the ticket, he replied that if his name were used for the office of

President he would not permit it to be used for any other office, no

matter how honorable it might be."

From this time Lincoln exerted every proper means to secure success. He

did not repose idly in his Springfield office and allow his friends to

do the work, but was quite as active and vigilant in his own behalf

as any of his supporters, and managed the campaign himself. He had

no funds, however, no literary bureau, no head-quarters or personal

organization; nearly every letter he sent out on the subject was written

with his own hand, and he used plain and characteristic language asking

for the support of his friends in Illinois and other States. Whether

his intention was to disarm jealousy, or whether he actually believed

that his nomination was impossible, he intimated to several of his

correspondents that he desired to make a brave show at the Chicago

Convention because of the prestige it would give him in his future

fight for the Senate. And to another he wrote, "I am not in a position

where it would hurt much for me not to be nominated on the national

ticket, but I am where it would hurt some for me not to get the Illinois

delegates."

He even sent money from his own small means to pay the expenses of

friends who were working in his interest. On March 10, 1860, he wrote to

a gentleman in Kansas, "Allow me to say that I cannot enter the ring on

the money basis,--first, because in the main it is wrong; and secondly,

I have not and cannot get the money. I say in the main the use of money

is wrong, but for certain objects in a political contest is both right

and indispensable. With me, as with yourself, this long struggle has

been one of great pecuniary loss. I now distinctly say this; if you

shall be appointed a delegate to Chicago I will furnish one hundred

dollars to bear the expense of the trip."

Nevertheless, Kansas instructed her delegation for Seward, whereupon

Lincoln wrote a consoling letter to his friends and said, "Don't stir

them up to anger, but come along to the Convention and I will do as I

said about expenses." There is nothing to show whether the offer was

accepted, but, with his usual gratitude for favors received or intended,

he appointed his Kansas friend to a lucrative office within ten days

after his inauguration, and frequently consulted him about the patronage

in that State.

The Illinois State Convention gave Lincoln a hearty endorsement and sent

an enthusiastic delegation to Chicago composed of personal friends of

great ability, political experience, and personal influence, and by a

combination with Chase from Ohio, Cameron from Pennsylvania, Bates from

Missouri, and other anti-Seward candidates, he was nominated for the

office of President of the United States. The credit of his success was

claimed by many; several accounts of bargains have passed into history,

and other fictitious explanations for his nomination have been printed

from time to time, but we have the authority of David Davis, Norman B.

Judd, and other friends who were authorized to speak for him, as well

as his own testimony, that after the Convention adjourned he was free

from all obligations except the gratitude he was glad to offer to his

supporters.

[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S HOUSE AT SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS

The tree in front of the house was planted by Lincoln]

The evening of the second day after the nomination brought to

Springfield a committee of notification composed of some of the most

distinguished men of that day and others who were destined to play a

conspicuous part in national affairs. George Ashmun, of Massachusetts,

was the chairman; Governor Boutwell, afterwards United States Senator

and Secretary of the Treasury; Samuel Bowles, editor of the _Springfield

Republican_; Carl Schurz, of Wisconsin; Gideon Welles, of Connecticut;

Amos Tuck, of New Hampshire; William M. Evarts and Governor Edwin D.

Morgan, of New York; "Pig-Iron" Kelley, of Pennsylvania; Francis P.

Blair, of Missouri; and others were of the party. Most of them were

disappointed at the result of the Convention and distrustful of the

strength and ability of the prairie lawyer as a candidate. He received

them, however, with simple dignity. They were invited to deliver their

message at his modest home, and appeared there a few moments after

their arrival in Springfield, to find him surrounded by his family and a

few intimate friends. They saw a man of unprepossessing appearance, with

long limbs, large hands and feet, stooping shoulders, coarse features,

and a shock of rebellious hair. He was the last man in the world,

perhaps, to judge by appearances, that this committee would have chosen

as a Presidential candidate; but when he began to speak in reply to Mr.

Ashmun, a change seemed to come over him. The rugged face and awkward

figure were transformed, and the members of the committee recognized at

once that they were in the presence of a man who was master of himself

and possessed a strength they had not suspected. And when they left

Springfield, almost without exception, they were convinced of the wisdom

of his nomination.

The opposing candidates prepared long letters of acceptance explanatory

of their views and defining their purposes, but Lincoln had already

recognized the wisdom of reticence, and the night of his nomination,

standing in his own doorway, he told his neighbors and friends who

called to congratulate him and demanded a speech that "the time comes

upon every man when it is best to keep his lips closed. That time has

come to me." Hence his letter of acceptance was the briefest ever

written by a Presidential candidate. After one formal introductory

phrase, it reads:

"The declaration of principles which accompanies your letter

meets my approval, and it shall be my care not to violate it

or disregard it in any way or part. Imploring the assistance

of Divine Providence, and with due regard for the views and

feelings of all who were represented in the Convention, to

the rights of all the States and Territories and people of

the nation, to the inviolability of the Constitution, and

the perpetual union of prosperity, and harmony of all, I am

most happy to co-operate for the practical success of the

principles declared by the convention. Your obliged friend and

fellow-citizen,

"A. LINCOLN."

This letter was not shown to any one of Lincoln's friends, with the

exception of Dr. Newton Bateman, State Superintendent of Education and

an intimate friend, to whom Lincoln said,--

"Mr. School-master, here is my letter of acceptance. And I wouldn't like

to have any mistakes in it. I am not very strong on grammar and I wish

you would see if it is all right."

Mr. Bateman suggested one change, so that it would read "it shall be my

care not to violate," instead of "it shall be my care to not violate."

"So you think I better put those two little fellows end to end, do you?"

replied Lincoln, taking his pen and making the change suggested.

Lincoln's nomination made very little difference in his daily life. He

turned his law practice over to his partner, employed John G. Nicolay, a

clerk in the office of the Secretary of State, as his private secretary,

was given the use of the Governor's room at the State-House for an

office, and devoted his entire time to the reception of visitors and

correspondence concerning the campaign. His door stood always open.

There was not even an usher. Everybody came and went as freely as when

he was a candidate for the Legislature or engaged in his practice.

He was the same Abraham Lincoln he had always been, except a little

more serious because of increasing responsibilities, and a little more

dignified because he was sensible of the honor that had been conferred

upon him; but his old friends detected no change in the man, and dropped

in to exchange gossip whenever they came to town. Distinguished visitors

came from a distance,--statesmen, politicians, wire-pullers, newspaper

correspondents, men with great purposes and ambitions, adventurers,

lion-hunters, and representatives of all classes and conditions, who

usually seek the acquaintance of influential and prominent men and

worship a rising sun. He told each a story and sent him away, pleased

with his person and impressed with his character. His correspondence had

increased enormously and every letter received a polite reply, but he

maintained his policy of reticence and gave no indication of his plans

or purposes.

One day, while a group of distinguished politicians from a distance were

sitting in the Governor's room, chatting with Lincoln, the door opened

and an old lady in a big sunbonnet and the garb of a farmer's wife came

in.

"I wanted to give you something to take to Washington, Mr. Lincoln,"

she said, "and these are all I had. I spun the yarn and knit them socks

myself." And with an air of pride she handed him a pair of blue woollen

stockings.

Lincoln thanked her cordially for her thoughtfulness, inquired after the

folks at home, and escorted her to the door as politely as if she had

been Queen of England. Then, when he returned to the room, he picked up

the socks, held them by the toes, one in each hand, and with a queer

smile upon his face remarked to the statesmen around him,--

"The old lady got my latitude and longitude about right, didn't she?"

Such incidents occurred nearly every day and were a source of great

pleasure to the President, who was never happier than when in the

company of "the plain people," as he called them.

No one man of honest intentions visited him without feeling the better

for it and being impressed with his ability, his courage, and his

confidence. From the beginning he never doubted his own success. He

realized that the Democratic party was hopelessly split and that, while

the factions, if combined, might embrace a majority of the voters of

the country, the Republicans would have a plurality, and his reasoning

was so plausible that he convinced his visitors of the truth of his

convictions. He never showed the slightest annoyance at the attacks that

were continually made upon his reputation and record, and demonstrated

his coolness, self-poise, and wisdom by declining to defend himself

or offer explanations. His theory was expressed to a friend who wrote

him with great concern about a charge that had been made against his

integrity.

"I have made this explanation to you as a friend," he wrote, "but I wish

no explanation made to our enemies. What they want is a squabble and a

fuss, and that they can have if we explain, and they cannot have it if

we don't."

The greater number of inquiries related to his position and intentions

towards slavery, and to every one he gave a similar answer, that he

had defined his position again and again in his speeches before his

nomination, and "Those who will not read or heed what I have already

publicly said would not read or heed a repetition of it. 'If they hear

not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one

rose from the dead.'"

He kept his finger upon the pulse of the country, and none of the

managers of either party was so well informed as to the situation and

sentiment in different sections as he. The Republican politicians soon

discovered this fact and came to him more and more for advice and

instruction. Even Thurlow Weed, who was supposed to be the shrewdest

politician in the country, recognized a master and sought counsel from

him regarding the management of the campaign in New York. Wherever he

detected a weak spot, he sent a word of warning and advice: wherever

there were local dissensions, he restored harmony with his tact and

good-nature. Thus was Lincoln the manager of his own campaign; more so,

perhaps, than any man who was ever elected President. But at the same

time he made one great mistake. He had heard the threat of secession so

long that he had grown indifferent to it, and he told everybody that

"The people of the South have too much sense to attempt the ruin of the

government."

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