LINCOLN'S ELECTION INAUGURATES REBELLION.
Abraham Lincoln was elected President by the people on the 6th of
November, 1860. Three days afterward, Horace Greeley wrote to the
_Tribune_ as follows: "If the Cotton States shall become satisfied
that they can do better out of the Union than in it, we insist on
letting them go in peace." Less than a week after the election
Mr. Yancey said, in a public address, in Montgomery, his home, "I
have good reason to believe that the action of any State will be
peaceable--will not be resisted--under the present or any probable
prospective condition of Federal affairs."
When Congress met, the Senate occupied its new chamber. The Southern
conspirators in both Houses were outspoken and truculent, while
the Abolitionists were defiant and exasperating. The message of
President Buchanan was a non-committal document, showing that he
was perplexed and overwhelmed by what he had not the courage to
control. Encouraged by his declaration that the Executive possessed
no constitutional power to use the army and navy for the preservation
of the life of the Republic, the Southern Senators at Washington,
who directed the movements of the Secessionists, were emboldened
to direct them to withdraw from the Union and organize a Confederacy.
Meanwhile some of them were to remain in Congress to defeat all
hostile legislation.
Senator Seward, who assumed the leadership of the Republicans in
Congress, had been correctly described by Henry Clay as "a man of
no convictions." He had not that magnetic mind which could
subordinate others, or the mental courage to take the helm in the
hour of victory, but he relied upon the pecuniary operations of an
unscrupulous lobby, which had followed him from Albany, and sought
to fill its military chest with the spoils of the public printing
and binding. After long announcement the Senate Chamber was crowded
to hear what he would have to say on the political situation.
Political friends and political foes, the most conservative and
the most ultra, the Abolitionist from Vermont and the fire-eater
from Mississippi, all looked upon that pale, slight figure in a
gray frock coat--so calm, so self-possessed, so good-natured--as
the man who had but to speak the word and the country would be
saved.
The speech had been carefully composed and elaborated, as was
everything which emanated from that source. It was in type before
it was pronounced. The manuscript lay before the Speaker on the
desk, but it was delivered almost entirely through the power of
his wonderful memory. Senators gathered closely around him, and
anxiously caught every syllable as it fell from his lips. The
speaker seemed the only tranquil Senator there. It appeared
incredible that any man could present an exterior of such coolness
and quietude, and apparently smiling unconcern, amid anxiety and
excitement so deep and intense.
Mr. Seward was not a graceful orator, but there was a certain
impressive manner corresponding with the importance of what he had
to say which arrested the hearer's regard, and when he was evolving
some weighty maxim of political philosophy, and particularly during
his vivid delineations of the grandeur and power of the Union, and
of the calamities which might follow its dissolution, every eye
was fixed upon him. There were several quite dramatic passages in
the speech which roused the orator to more than usual animation.
Such were the allusions to the gray-headed Clerk of the Senate,
the contrast of the man-of-war entering a foreign port before and
after the dissolution of the Union, and the episode, where,
enumerating by name the great men who had added glory to the
Republic, he said: "After all these have performed their majestic
parts, let the curtain fall."
The speech was an ingenious piece of literary composition, which
had been foreshadowed by a series of able editorials in the Albany
_Evening Journal_, published as feelers of public opinion, and to
prepare the way for this speech. It was the hand of Weed, writing,
but the ideas were from the brain of Seward.
The Southern States soon began to secede, and their Senators and
Representatives to leave the capital. Jefferson Davis made a long
farewell speech, at the commencement of which he said: "Tears are
now trickling down the stern face of man, and those who have bled
for the flag of their country and are willing now to die for it,
stand powerless." As he proceeded he referred to the possession
of Fort Sumter, and said that he had heard it said, by a gallant
gentleman, that the great objection to withdrawing the garrison
was an unwillingness to lower the flag. "Can there," said he with
dramatic effect, "be a point of pride against laying upon that
sacred soil to-day the flag for which our fathers died? My pride,
Senators, is different. My pride is that that flag shall not set
between contending brothers; and that, when it shall no longer be
the common flag of the country, it shall be folded up and laid
away, like a vesture no longer used; that is shall be kept as a
sacred memento of the past, to which each of us can make a pilgrimage
and remember the glorious days in which we were born." In concluding
his remarks, Mr. Davis invoked the Senators so to act that "the
Angel of Peace might spread her wings, through it be over divided
States; and the sons of the sires of the Revolution might still go
on in the friendly intercourse with each other, ever renewing the
memories of a common origin; the sections by the diversity of their
products and habits, acting and reacting beneficially, the commerce
of each might swell the prosperity of both, and the happiness of
all be still interwoven together. If there cannot be peace," he
said, "Mississippi's gallant sons will stand like a wall of fire
around their State, and I go hence, not in hostility to you, but
in love and allegiance to her, to take my place among her sons, be
it for good or for evil."
Senator Clingman, of North Carolina, who was one of the last to
leave, compared the seceders to representative of the "ten tribes
of Israel!" Senator Hale, that genial hard-hitter, replied: "Ten
tribes," said he, "did go out from the kingdom of Israel, but the
ark of the living God remained with the tribe of Judah!" This was
loudly applauded by the Republicans in the Senate galleries, and
the presiding officer had to pound lustily with his mallet to secure
order. Then Mr. Hale proceeded:
"I think the galleries ought to be excused for applauding a reference
made to the Scriptures. I say, there is where the ark of the
covenant remained. What became of the ten tribes? They have gone,
God only knows where, and nobody else. It is a matter of speculation,
what became of them--whether they constitute the Pottawatomies or
some other tribe of savages. But the suggestion of the Senator
from North Carolina is full of meaning. There were ten tribes went
out, and remember, they went out wandering. They left the ark and
the empire behind them. They went, as I said before, God only
knows where. But, sir, I do hope and pray that this comparison,
so eloquent and instructive, suggested by the honorable Senator,
may not be illustrated in the fate of these other tribes that are
going out from the household of Israel."
Late in January, 1861, the Legislature of Virginia proposed the
appointment of commissioners, by each State, to meet at Washington
on the 4th day of February, and devise, if practicable, a plan for
settling the pending difficulties between the slave-holding and
non-slave-holding States. This was at first met with a howl of
opposition from the Northern Abolitionists, who feared that it
might lead to another compromise, but they soon changed front, and
urged the Governors of their respective States to send pronounced
anti-slavery delegations. Twenty-one States were represented by
gentlemen who had nearly all filled high political stations, and
who possessed ripe experience, wisdom, dignity, and weight of
character. John Tyler was elected president, and the "Peace
Congress," as the organization styled itself, sat with great
formality in the old Presbyterian Church, which had been converted
into a hall attached to Willard's Hotel. A long series of resolutions
was discussed and adopted, but they were not of as much value as
the paper on which they were written.
Meanwhile, Captain Stone, on the staff of General Scott, had
organized the militia of the District of Columbia, and as the
birthday of Washington approached, they made arrangements for a
parade, with two batteries of light artillery stationed at the
Arsenal. Against this parade Mr. Tyler protested, and wrote a
letter to the President, sharply rebuking him for having permitted
the parade. Mr. Buchanan excused himself, saying that he "found
it impossible to prevent two or three companies of regulars from
joining in the procession with the volunteers without giving
offense to the tens of thousands of people who had assembled to
witness the parade." Mr. Seward adroitly availed himself of the
reverence for the "old flag" which had been awakened by Daniel
Webster in his speeches in defense of the Union, and, in accordance
with his suggestion, the "stars and stripes" were freely displayed,
evoking that love of country which is so vital a principle in the
American heart.
After the withdrawal of the Southern members of the Cabinet had
compelled Mr. Buchanan to fill their places, General John A. Dix,
the new Secretary of the Treasury, sent Mr. W. Hemphill Jones, a
amiable old clerk, who wore a sandy wig, to New Orleans, with
instructions to secure, if possible, the bullion in the United
States Mint there. Soon after Mr. Jones had arrived at New Orleans,
he informed the Secretary that Captain Brushwood, who commanded
the United States revenue cutter there, had refused to obey his
orders as a special agent of the Department, and mediated going
over to the Secessionists. Whereupon the Secretary telegraphed to
Jones to take possession of the revenue cutter, adding, "If any
one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot."
This message never reached New Orleans, but it was made public,
and received by the Northern people as an assurance that the Union
would be defended. To those who knew the estimable old gentleman
to whom the message was sent, the idea of his shooting down Captain
Brushwood, or any one else, was simply ridiculous. Indeed, he
thanked his stars that he was able to get back to Washington
unharmed.
The electoral votes for President and Vice-President were counted
in the hall of the House on Wednesday, the 13th of February, 1861.
Vice-President Breckinridge presided over the two Houses "in Congress
assembled," and announced the result.
As the year advanced the alienation of the sections increased, and
the spirit of fraternity was so far extinguished as to close the
minds and hearts of the people at the North and at the South to
the admission of any adjustment which would be honorable and
satisfactory to all conservative citizens. The Government of the
Confederate States was formally inaugurated at Montgomery, Alabama,
with Jefferson Davis as its President, and Alexander H. Stephens
as its Vice-President. Throughout the old South the new flag was
flung to the breeze, and the old flag was as generally rejected.
The State Sovereignty, about which so much had been said, thenceforth
stood in abeyance to the supreme authority of the new Government,
which was clothed with all the powers of peace and war and of civil
administration. Hostilities had virtually been declared, for, as
the States seceded, the Confederates had seized the arsenals, the
navy yards, the mints, the custom-houses, and the post-offices,
while many officials--civil, military, and naval--had unceremoniously
left the service of the United States to enter that of the Confederate
States.
[Facsimile]
John PHale
JOHN PARKER HALE was born at Rochester, New Hampshire, March 31st,
1806; was a Representative from New Hampshire 1843-1845; was United
States Senator, 1847-1853, and again, 1855-1865; was Minister to
Spain, 1865-1869; and died at Dover, New Hampshire, November 18th,
1873.