On the 30th of June, Washington was thrown into a ferment, by the
resignation of Mr. Chase as Secretary of the Treasury. The publication,
some weeks before, of the “‘Pomeroy’ secret circular,” in the interest
of Mr. Chase, as a presidential candidate, had created much talk, and
considerable bad feeling in the party. The President, however, took no
part in the discussion, or criticism, which followed;--on the contrary,
he manifested a sincere desire to preserve pleasant relations, and
harmonize existing differences in the Cabinet. In proof of this,
I remember his sending one day for Judge Lewis, the Commissioner
of Internal Revenue, and entering into a minute explanation of a
misapprehension, which he conceived the Secretary of the Treasury to
be laboring under; expressing the wish that the Commissioner would
mediate, on his behalf, with Mr. Chase.
Many sincere friends of Secretary Chase considered his resignation,
at this juncture, unfortunate and ill-timed. The financial situation
was more threatening than at any period during the war. Mr. Chase’s
administration of the Treasury Department, amid unparalleled
difficulties, had been such as to secure the confidence and
satisfaction of the masses; and his withdrawal at such a time was
regarded as a public calamity, giving rise to the suspicion that he
apprehended national insolvency. The resignation, however had been
twice tendered before,--the _third_ time it was accepted.
I never saw the President under so much excitement as on the day
following this event. Without consultation or advice, so far as I ever
could learn, he sent to the Senate, the previous afternoon, the name
of Ex-Governor Todd, of Ohio, for the successorship. This nomination
was not popular, and great relief was experienced the next morning,
when it was announced that Governor Todd had declined the position.
Mr. Lincoln passed an anxious night. He received the telegram from
Governor Todd, declining the nomination, in the evening. Retiring, he
laid awake some hours, canvassing in his mind the merits of various
public men. At length he settled upon the Hon. William P. Fessenden,
of Maine; and soon afterward fell asleep. The next morning he went to
his office and wrote the nomination. John Hay, the assistant private
secretary, had taken it from the President on his way to the Capitol,
when he encountered Senator Fessenden upon the threshold of the room.
As chairman of the Finance Committee, he also had passed an anxious
night, and called thus early to consult with the President, and offer
some suggestions. After a few moments’ conversation, Mr. Lincoln turned
to him with a smile, and said: “I am obliged to you, Fessenden, but the
fact is, I have just sent your own name to the Senate for Secretary
of the Treasury. Hay had just received the nomination from my hand as
you entered.” Mr. Fessenden was taken completely by surprise, and,
very much agitated, protested his inability to accept the position.
The state of his health, he said, if no other consideration, made it
impossible. Mr. Lincoln would not accept the refusal as final. He very
justly felt that with Mr. Fessenden’s experience and known ability at
the head of the Finance Committee, his acceptance would go far toward
reëstablishing a feeling of security. He said to him, very earnestly,
“Fessenden, _the_ LORD _has not deserted me thus far, and He is not
going to now_,--you must accept!” They separated, the Senator in great
anxiety of mind. Throughout the day, Mr. Lincoln urged almost all who
called to go and see Mr. Fessenden, and press upon him the duty of
accepting. Among these was a delegation of New York bankers, who, in
the name of the banking community, expressed their satisfaction at
the nomination. This was especially gratifying to the President; and,
in the strongest manner, he entreated them to “see Mr. Fessenden and
assure him of their support.”
I am tempted, just here, to introduce a circumstance which occurred
in the course of the day, in which the President and myself were the
only actors. In the solitude of the state dining-room, I resumed my
work, as usual, that morning; but my mind had been too distracted over
night for success. Participating in the general solicitude, I also
had been intently revolving the question of a successor to Mr. Chase.
Unaccustomed to political currents, and rejecting all considerations of
_this_ character in a candidate, my thought fastened upon Comptroller
McCulloch, as the man for the crisis. His name, at that time, singular
as it may seem, had not been suggested by any one, so far as I
knew,--certainly no newspaper had advocated his merits or claims. I was
at length impelled, by the force of the convictions which engaged my
mind, to lay down my palette and brushes, and go up-stairs and state
them to the President.
Improving the first opportunity when we were left alone, I said, half
playfully,--“Mr. President, would you like the opinion of a painter
as to who would make a good Secretary of the Treasury?” He looked at
me a moment, and said: “Yes, I think I would. What is your advice?”
Said I, “Nominate Hugh McCulloch.” “Why,” said he, “what do you know
of McCulloch?” “Mr. President,” I rejoined, “you know painters are
thought generally to have very little knowledge of financial matters.
I admit that this is true, so far as _I_ am concerned; but I do claim
to know something of _men_, from the study of character as expressed
in _faces_. Now, in my humble judgment, McCulloch is the most suitable
man in the community for the position. First; his ability and integrity
are unquestionable. Second; as Comptroller of the Currency, he is
fully acquainted with the past, present, and proposed future policy of
Secretary Chase, and the entire ‘machinery’ of the Department. Third;
he is a practical financier. Having made finance the study of his life,
it is obvious he is already educated to the position; whereas, a man
taken from the political arena would have everything to learn, and
then even, his judgment would be distrusted.” Upon this Mr. Lincoln
said, with emphasis,--“I believe McCulloch is a very good man!” I think
he repeated this once or twice. My errand accomplished, I returned to
my labor, satisfied that the instincts of the President could be safely
trusted with this, as with other matters; and that, though he might
temporarily err, he would ultimately solve the question satisfactorily.