beginning of the War. The foreseeing shrewdness of Lincoln had resisted
all suggestions for any such immediate action on the part of the
government as would place upon the North the responsibility for the
opening of hostilities. Shortly after the fall of Sumter, a despatch was
drafted by Seward for the guidance of American ministers abroad. The
first reports in regard to the probable action of European governments
gave the impression that the sympathy of these governments was largely
with the South. In France and England, expressions had been used by
leading officials which appeared to foreshadow an early recognition of
the Confederacy. Seward's despatch as first drafted was unwisely angry
and truculent in tone. If brought into publication, it would probably
have increased the antagonism of the men who were ruling England. It
appeared in fact to foreshadow war with England. Seward had assumed that
England was going to take active part with the South and was at once
throwing down the gauntlet of defiance. It was Lincoln who insisted that
this was no time, whatever might be the provocation, for the United
States to be shaking its fist at Europe. The despatch was reworded and
the harsh and angry expressions were eliminated. The right claimed by
the United States, in common with all nations, to maintain its own
existence was set forth with full force, while it was also made clear
that the nation was strong enough to maintain its rights against all
foes whether within or without its boundaries. It is rather strange to
recall that throughout the relations of the two men, it was the trained
and scholarly statesman of the East who had to be repressed for unwise
truculency and that the repression was done under the direction of the
comparatively inexperienced representative of the West, the man who had
been dreaded by the conservative Republicans of New York as likely to
introduce into the national policy "wild and woolly" notions.
In Lincoln's first message to Congress, he asks the following question:
"Must a government be of necessity too strong for the liberties of its
own people or too weak to maintain its own existence? Is there in all
republics this inherent weakness?" The people of the United States were
able under the wise leadership of Lincoln to answer this question "no."
Lincoln begins at once with the public utterances of the first year of
the War to take the people of the United States into his confidence. He
is their representative, their servant. He reasons out before the
people, as if it constituted a great jury, the analysis of their
position, of their responsibilities, and the grounds on which as their
representative this or that decision is arrived at. Says Schurz:
"Lincoln wielded the powers of government when stern resolution and
relentless force were the order of the day, and, won and ruled the
popular mind and heart by the tender sympathies of his nature."
The attack on Sumter placed upon the administration the duty of
organising at once for the contest now inevitable the forces of the
country. This work of organisation came at best but late because those
who were fighting to break up the nation had their preparations well
advanced. The first call for troops directed the governors of the loyal
States to supply seventy-five thousand men for the restoration of the
authority of the government. Massachusetts was the first State to
respond by despatching to the front, within twenty-four hours of the
publication of the call, its Sixth Regiment of Militia; the Seventh of
New York started twenty-four hours later. The history of the passage of
the Sixth through Baltimore, of the attack upon the columns, and of the
deaths, in the resulting affray, of soldiers and of citizens has often
been told. When word came to Washington that Baltimore was obstructing
the passage of troops bound southward, troops called for the defence of
the capital, the isolation of the government became sadly apparent. For
a weary and anxious ten days, Lincoln and his associates were dreading
from morning to morning the approach over the long bridge of the troops
from Virginia whose camp-fires could be seen from the southern windows
of the White House, and were looking anxiously northward for the arrival
of the men on whose prompt service the safety of the capital was to
depend. I have myself stood in Lincoln's old study, the windows of which
overlook the Potomac, and have recalled to mind the fearful pressure of
anxiety that must have weighed upon the President during those long
days; as looking across the river, he could trace by the smoke the
picket lines of the Virginia troops. He must have thought of the
possibility that he was to be the last President of the United States,
that the torch handed over to him by the faltering hands of his
predecessor was to expire while he was responsible for the flame. The
immediate tension was finally broken by the appearance of the weary and
battered companies of the Massachusetts troops and the arrival two days
later, by the way of Annapolis, of the New York Seventh with an
additional battalion from Boston.
It was, however, not only in April, 1861, that the capital was in peril.
The anxiety of the President (never for himself but only for his
responsibilities) was to be repeated in July, 1863, when Lee was in
Maryland, and in July, 1864, at the time of Early's raid.
We may remember the peculiar burdens that come upon the
commander-in-chief through his position at the rear of the armies he is
directing. The rear of a battle is, even in the time of victory, a place
of demoralising influence. It takes a man of strong nerve not to lose
heart when the only people with whom he is in immediate contact are
those who through disability or discouragement are making their way to
the rear. The sutlers, the teamsters, the wounded men, the panic-struck
(and with the best of soldiers certain groups do lose heart from time to
time, men who in another action when started right are ready to take
their full share of the fighting)--these are the groups that in any
action are streaming to the rear. It is impossible not to be affected by
the undermining of their spirits and of their hopefulness. If the battle
is going wrongly, if in addition to those who are properly making their
way to the rear, there come also bodies of troops pushed out of their
position who have lost heart and who have lost faith in their
commanders, the pressure towards demoralisation is almost irresistible.
We may recall that during the entire four years of War, Lincoln, the
commander-in-chief, was always in the rear. Difficult as was the task of
the men who led columns into action, of the generals in the field who
had the immediate responsibility for the direction of those columns and
of the fighting line, it was in no way to be compared with the pressure
and sadness of the burden of the man who stood back of all the lines,
and to whom came all the discouragements, the complaints, the growls,
the criticisms, the requisitions or demands for resources that were not
available, the reports of disasters, sometimes exaggerated and
sometimes unduly smoothed over, the futile suggestions, the conflicting
counsels, the indignant protests, the absurd schemes, the self-seeking
applications, that poured into the White House from all points of the
field of action and from all parts of the Border States and of the
North. The man who during four years could stand that kind of battering
and pressure and who, instead of having his hopefulness crushed out of
him, instead of losing heart or power of direction or the full control
of his responsibilities, steadily developed in patience, in strength, in
width of nature, and in the wisdom of experience, so that he was able
not only to keep heart firm and mind clear but to give to the soldiers
in the front and to the nation behind the soldiers the influence of his
great heart and clear mind and of his firm purpose, that man had within
him the nature of the hero. Selected in time of need to bear the burdens
of the nation, he was able so to fulfil his responsibilities that he
takes place in the world's history as a leader of men.
In July, 1861, one of the special problems to be adjusted was the
attitude of the Border States. Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, and West
Virginia had not been willing at the outset to cast in their lot with
the South, but they were not prepared to give any assured or active
support to the authority of the national government. The Governor and
the Legislature of Kentucky issued a proclamation of neutrality; they
demanded that the soil of the State should be respected and that it
should not be traversed by armed forces from either side. The Governor
of Missouri, while not able to commit the State to secession, did have
behind him what was possibly a majority of the citizens in the policy of
attempting to prevent the Federal troops from entering the State.
Maryland, or at least eastern Maryland, was sullen and antagonistic.
Thousands of the Marylanders had in fact already made their way into
Virginia for service with the Confederacy. On the other hand, there were
also thousands of loyal citizens in these States who were prepared,
under proper guidance and conservative management, to give their own
direct aid to the cause of nationality. In the course of the succeeding
two years, the Border States sent into the field in the Union ranks some
fifty thousand men. At certain points of the conflict, the presence of
these Union men of Kentucky, Tennessee, Maryland, and Missouri was the
deciding factor. While these men were willing to fight for the Union,
they were strongly opposed to being used for the destruction of slavery
and for the freeing of the blacks. The acceptance, therefore, of the
policy that was pressed by the extreme anti-slavery group, for immediate
action in regard to the freeing of the slaves, would have meant at once
the dissatisfaction of this great body of loyalists important in number
and particularly important on account of their geographical position.
Lincoln was able, although with no little difficulty, to hold back the
pressure of Northern sentiment in regard to anti-slavery action until
the course of the War had finally committed the loyalists of the Border
States to the support of the Union. For the support of this policy, it
became necessary to restrain certain of the leaders in the field who
were mixing up civil and constitutional matters with their military
responsibilities. Proclamations issued by Fremont in Missouri and later
by Hunter in South Carolina, giving freedom to the slaves within the
territory of their departments, were promptly and properly disavowed.
Said Lincoln: "A general cannot be permitted to make laws for the
district in which he happens to have an army."
The difficulties in regard to the matter of slavery during the war
brought Lincoln into active correspondence with men like Beecher and
Greeley, anti-slavery leaders who enjoyed a large share of popular
confidence and support. In November, 1861, Lincoln says of Greeley: "His
backing is as good as that of an army of one hundred thousand men."
There could be no question of the earnest loyalty of Horace Greeley.
Under his management, the New York _Tribune_ had become a great force in
the community. The paper represented perhaps more nearly than any paper
in the country the purpose and the policy of the new Republican party.
Unfortunately, Mr. Greeley's judgment and width of view did not develop
with his years and with the increasing influence of his journal. He
became unduly self-sufficient; he undertook not only to lay down a
policy for the guidance of the constitutional responsibilities of the
government, but to dictate methods for the campaigns. The _Tribune_
articles headed "On to Richmond!" while causing irritation to commanders
in the field and confusion in the minds of quiet citizens at home, were
finally classed with the things to be laughed at. In the later years of
the War, the influence of the _Tribune_ declined very considerably.
Henry J. Raymond with his newly founded _Times_ succeeded to some of the
power as a journalist that had been wielded by Greeley.
In November, 1861, occurred an incident which for a time threatened a
very grave international complication, a complication that would, if
unwisely handled, have determined the fate of the Republic. Early in the
year, the Confederate government had sent certain representatives across
the Atlantic to do what might be practicable to enlist the sympathies of
European governments, or of individuals in these governments, to make a
market for the Confederate cotton bonds, to arrange for the purchase of
supplies for the army and navy, and to secure the circulation of
documents presenting the case of the South. Mr. Yancey of Mississippi
was the best-known of this first group of emissaries. With him was
associated Judge Mann of Virginia and it was Mann who in November, 1861,
was in charge of the London office of the Confederacy. In this month,
Mr. Davis appointed as successor to Mann, Mr. Mason of Virginia, to whom
was given a more formal authorisation of action. At the same time, Judge
Slidell of Louisiana was appointed as the representative to France.
Mason and Slidell made their way to Jamaica and sailed from Jamaica to
Liverpool in the British mail steamer _Trent_. Captain Charles Wilkes,
in the United States frigate _San Jacinto_, had been watching the West
Indies waters with reference to blockade runners and to Wilkes came
knowledge of the voyage of the two emissaries. Wilkes took the
responsibility of stopping the _Trent_ when she was a hundred miles or
more out of Kingston and of taking from her as prisoners the two
commissioners. The commissioners were brought to Boston and were there
kept under arrest awaiting the decision from Washington as to their
status. This stopping on the high seas of a British steamer brought out
a great flood of indignation in Great Britain. It gave to Palmerston and
Russell, who were at that time in charge of the government, the
opportunity for which they had been looking to place on the side of the
Confederacy the weight of the influence of Great Britain. It
strengthened the hopes of Louis Napoleon for carrying out, in
conjunction with Great Britain, a scheme that he had formulated under
which France was to secure a western empire in Mexico, leaving England
to do what she might find convenient in the adjustment of the affairs of
the so-called United States.
The first report secured from the law officers of the Crown took the
ground that the capture was legal under international law and under the
practice of Great Britain itself. This report was, however, pushed to
one side, and Palmerston drafted a demand for the immediate surrender of
the commissioners. This demand was so worded that a self-respecting
government would have had great difficulty in assenting to it without
risk of forfeiting support with its own citizens. It was in fact
intended to bring about a state of war. Under the wise influence of
Prince Albert, Queen Victoria refused to give her approval to the
document. It was reworded by Albert in such fashion as to give to the
government of the United States an opportunity for adjustment without
loss of dignity. Albert was clear in his mind that Great Britain ought
not to be committed to war for the destruction of the great Republic of
the West and for the establishment of a state of which the corner-stone
was slavery. Fortunately, Victoria was quite prepared to accept in this
matter Albert's judgment. Palmerston protested and threatened
resignation, but finally submitted.
When the news of the capture of the commissioners came to Washington,
Seward for once was in favour of a conservative rather than a truculent
course of action. He advised that the commissioners should be
surrendered at once rather than to leave to Great Britain the
opportunity for making a dictatorial demand. Lincoln admitted the risk
of such demand and the disadvantage of making the surrender under
pressure, but he took the ground that if the United States waited for
the British contention, a certain diplomatic advantage could be gained.
When the demand came, Lincoln was able, with a rewording (not for the
first time) of Seward's despatch, to take the ground that the government
of the United States was "well pleased that Her Majesty's government
should have finally accepted the old-time American contention that
vessels of peace should not be searched on the high seas by vessels of
war." It may be recalled that the exercise of the right of search had
been one of the most important of the grievances which had brought about
the War of 1812-1814. In the discussion of the Treaty of Ghent in 1814,
the English and American commissioners, while agreeing that this right
of search must be given up, had not been able to arrive at a form of
words, satisfactory to both parties, for its revocation. Both sets of
commissioners were very eager to bring their proceedings to a close. The
Americans could of course not realise that if they had waited a few
weeks the news of the battle of New Orleans, fought in January, 1815,
would have greatly strengthened their position. It was finally agreed
"as between gentlemen" that the right of search should be no longer
exercised by Great Britain. This right was, however, not formally
abrogated until December, 1861, nearly half a century later. This little
diplomatic triumph smoothed over for the public of the North the
annoyance of having to accept the British demand. It helped to
strengthen the administration, which in this first year of the War was
by no means sure of its foundations. It strengthened also the opinion of
citizens generally in their estimate of the wise management and
tactfulness of the President.
Some of the most serious of the perplexities that came upon Lincoln
during the first two years of the War were the result of the peculiar
combination of abilities and disabilities that characterised General
McClellan. McClellan's work prior to the War had been that of an
engineer. He had taken high rank at West Point and later, resigning from
the army, had rendered distinguished service in civil engineering. At
the time of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, McClellan was president of the
Illinois Central Railroad. He was a close friend and backer of Douglas
and he had done what was practicable with the all-important machinery
of the railroad company to render comfortable the travelling of his
candidate and to insure his success. Returning to the army with the
opening of the War, he had won success in a brief campaign in Virginia
in which he was opposed by a comparatively inexperienced officer and by
a smaller force than his own. Placed in command of the army of the
Potomac shortly after the Bull Run campaign, he had shown exceptional
ability in bringing the troops into a state of organisation. He was
probably the best man in the United States to fit an army for action.
There were few engineer officers in the army who could have rendered
better service in the shaping of fortifications or in the construction
of an entrenched position. He showed later that he was not a bad leader
for a defeated army in the supervision of the retreat. He had, however,
no real capacity for leadership in an aggressive campaign. His
disposition led him to be full of apprehension of what the other fellow
was doing. He suffered literally from nightmares in which he exaggerated
enormously the perils in his paths, making obstacles where none existed,
multiplying by two or by three the troops against him, insisting upon
the necessity of providing not only for probable contingencies but for
very impossible contingencies. He was never ready for an advance and he
always felt proudly triumphant, after having come into touch with the
enemy, that he had accomplished the task of saving his army.
The only thing about which he was neither apprehensive nor doubtful was
his ability as a leader, whether military or political. While he found
it difficult to impress his will upon an opponent in the field,
he was very sturdy with his pen in laying down the law to the
Commander-in-chief (the President) and in emphasising the importance of
his own views not only in things military but in regard to the whole
policy of the government. The peculiarity about the nightmares and
miscalculations of McClellan was that they persisted long after the data
for their correction were available. In a book brought into print years
after the War, when the Confederate rosters were easily accessible in
Washington, McClellan did not hesitate to make the same statements in
regard to the numbers of the Confederate forces opposed to him that he
had brought into the long series of complaining letters to Lincoln in
which he demanded reinforcements that did not exist.
The records now show that at the time of the slow advance of
McClellan's army by the Williamsburg Peninsula, General Magruder had
been able, with a few thousand men and with dummy guns made of logs, to
give the impression that a substantial army was blocking the way to
Richmond. McClellan's advance was, therefore, made with the utmost
"conservatism," enabling General Johnston to collect back of Magruder
the army that was finally to drive McClellan back to his base. It is
further in evidence from the later records that when some weeks later
General Johnston concentrated his army at Gaines's Mill upon Porter, who
was separated from McClellan by the Chickahominy, there was but an
inconsiderable force between McClellan and Richmond.