The Senatorial Contest in Illinois--"House Divided against Itself"
Speech--The Lincoln-Douglas Debates--The Freeport Doctrine--Douglas
Deposed from Chairmanship of Committee on Territories--Benjamin on
Douglas--Lincoln's Popular Majority--Douglas Gains Legislature--Greeley,
Crittenden, _et al._--"The Fight Must Go On"--Douglas's Southern
Speeches--Senator Brown's Questions--Lincoln's Warning against Popular
Sovereignty--The War of Pamphlets--Lincoln's Ohio Speeches--The John
Brown Raid--Lincoln's Comment
The hostility of the Buchanan administration to Douglas for his part in
defeating the Lecompton Constitution, and the multiplying chances
against him, served only to stimulate his followers in Illinois to
greater efforts to secure his reëlection. Precisely the same elements
inspired the hope and increased the enthusiasm of the Republicans of the
State to accomplish his defeat. For a candidate to oppose the "Little
Giant," there could be no rival in the Republican ranks to Abraham
Lincoln. He had in 1854 yielded his priority of claim to Trumbull; he
alone had successfully encountered Douglas in debate. The political
events themselves seemed to have selected and pitted these two champions
against each other. Therefore, when the Illinois State convention on
June 16, 1858, passed by acclamation a separate resolution, "That
Abraham Lincoln is the first and only choice of the Republicans of
Illinois for the United States Senate as the successor of Stephen A.
Douglas," it only recorded the well-known judgment of the party. After
its routine work was finished, the convention adjourned to meet again in
the hall of the State House at Springfield at eight o'clock in the
evening. At that hour Mr. Lincoln appeared before the assembled
delegates and delivered a carefully studied speech, which has become
historic. After a few opening sentences, he uttered the following
significant prediction:
"'A house divided against itself cannot stand.' I believe this
government cannot endure permanently, half slave and half free. I do not
expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not expect the house to fall--but
I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or
all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further
spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the
belief that it is in course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates
will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the
States, old as well as new, North as well as South."
Then followed his critical analysis of the legislative objects and
consequences of the Nebraska Bill, and the judicial effects and
doctrines of the Dred Scott decision, with their attendant and related
incidents. The first of these had opened all the national territory to
slavery. The second established the constitutional interpretation that
neither Congress nor a territorial legislature could exclude slavery
from any United States territory. The President had declared Kansas to
be already practically a slave State. Douglas had announced that he did
not care whether slavery was voted down or voted up. Adding to these
many other indications of current politics, Mr. Lincoln proceeded:
"Put this and that together, and we have another nice little niche,
which we may, ere long, see filled with another Supreme Court decision
declaring that the Constitution of the United States does not permit a
State to exclude slavery from its limits.... Such a decision is all that
slavery now lacks of being alike lawful in all the States.... We shall
lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of Missouri are on the
verge of making their State free, and we shall awake to the reality,
instead, that the Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave State."
To avert this danger, Mr. Lincoln declared it was the duty of
Republicans to overthrow both Douglas and the Buchanan political
dynasty.
"Two years ago the Republicans of the nation mustered over thirteen
hundred thousand strong. We did this under the single impulse of
resistance to a common danger, with every external circumstance against
us. Of strange, discordant, and even hostile elements, we gathered from
the four winds, and formed and fought the battle through, under the
constant hot fire of a disciplined, proud, and pampered enemy. Did we
brave all then to falter now?--now, when that same enemy is wavering,
dissevered, and belligerent? The result is not doubtful. We shall not
fail--if we stand firm, we shall not fail. Wise counsels may accelerate
or mistakes delay it, but, sooner or later, the victory is sure to
come."
Lincoln's speech excited the greatest interest everywhere throughout the
free States. The grave peril he so clearly pointed out came home to the
people of the North almost with the force of a revelation; and
thereafter their eyes were fixed upon the Illinois senatorial campaign
with undivided attention. Another incident also drew to it the equal
notice and interest of the politicians of the slave States.
Within a month from the date of Lincoln's speech, Douglas returned from
Washington and began his campaign of active speech-making in Illinois.
The fame he had acquired as the champion of the Nebraska Bill, and, more
recently, the prominence into which his opposition to the Lecompton
fraud had lifted him in Congress, attracted immense crowds to his
meetings, and for a few days it seemed as if the mere contagion of
popular enthusiasm would submerge all intelligent political discussion.
To counteract this, Mr. Lincoln, at the advice of his leading friends,
sent him a letter challenging him to joint public debate. Douglas
accepted the challenge, but with evident hesitation; and it was arranged
that they should jointly address the same meetings at seven towns in the
State, on dates extending through August, September, and October. The
terms were, that, alternately, one should speak an hour in opening, the
other an hour and a half in reply, and the first again have half an hour
in closing. This placed the contestants upon an equal footing before
their audiences. Douglas's senatorial prestige afforded him no
advantage. Face to face with the partizans of both, gathered in immense
numbers and alert with critical and jealous watchfulness, there was no
evading the square, cold, rigid test of skill in argument and truth in
principle. The processions and banners, the music and fireworks, of both
parties, were stilled and forgotten while the audience listened with
high-strung nerves to the intellectual combat of three hours' duration.
It would be impossible to give the scope and spirit of these famous
debates in the space allotted to these pages, but one of the
turning-points in the oratorical contest needs particular mention.
Northern Illinois, peopled mostly from free States, and southern
Illinois, peopled mostly from slave States, were radically opposed in
sentiment on the slavery question; even the old Whigs of central
Illinois had to a large extent joined the Democratic party, because of
their ineradicable prejudice against what they stigmatized as
"abolitionism." To take advantage of this prejudice, Douglas, in his
opening speech in the first debate at Ottawa in northern Illinois,
propounded to Lincoln a series of questions designed to commit him to
strong antislavery doctrines. He wanted to know whether Mr. Lincoln
stood pledged to the repeal of the fugitive-slave law; against the
admission of any more slave States; to the abolition of slavery in the
District of Columbia; to the prohibition of the slave trade between
different States; to prohibit slavery in all the Territories; to oppose
the acquisition of any new territory unless slavery were first
prohibited therein.
In their second joint debate at Freeport, Lincoln answered that he was
pledged to none of these propositions, except the prohibition of slavery
in all Territories of the United States. In turn he propounded four
questions to Douglas, the second of which was:
"Can the people of a United States Territory in any lawful way, against
the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its
limits prior to the formation of a State constitution?"
Mr. Lincoln had long and carefully studied the import and effect of this
interrogatory, and nearly a month before, in a private letter,
accurately foreshadowed Douglas's course upon it:
"You shall have hard work," he wrote, "to get him directly to the point
whether a territorial legislature has or has not the power to exclude
slavery. But if you succeed in bringing him to it--though he will be
compelled to say it possesses no such power--he will instantly take
ground that slavery cannot actually exist in the Territories unless the
people desire it and so give it protection by territorial legislation.
If this offends the South, he will let it offend them, as at all events
he means to hold on to his chances in Illinois."
On the night before the Freeport debate the question had also been
considered in a hurried caucus of Lincoln's party friends. They all
advised against propounding it, saying, "If you do, you can never be
senator." "Gentlemen," replied Lincoln, "I am killing larger game; if
Douglas answers, he can never be President, and the battle of 1860 is
worth a hundred of this."
As Lincoln had predicted, Douglas had no resource but to repeat the
sophism he had hastily invented in his Springfield speech of the
previous year.
"It matters not," replied he, "what way the Supreme Court may hereafter
decide as to the abstract question whether slavery may or may not go
into a Territory under the Constitution, the people have the lawful
means to introduce it or exclude it, as they please, for the reason that
slavery cannot exist a day or an hour anywhere unless it is supported by
local police regulations. Those police regulations can only be
established by the local legislature, and if the people are opposed to
slavery they will elect representatives to that body who will by
unfriendly legislation effectually prevent the introduction of it into
their midst. If, on the contrary, they are for it, their legislation
will favor its extension. Hence, no matter what the decision of the
Supreme Court may be on that abstract question, still the right of the
people to make a slave Territory or a free Territory is perfect and
complete under the Nebraska Bill."
In the course of the next joint debate at Jonesboro', Mr. Lincoln easily
disposed of this sophism by showing: 1. That, practically, slavery had
worked its way into Territories without "police regulations" in almost
every instance; 2. That United States courts were established to protect
and enforce rights under the Constitution; 3. That members of a
territorial legislature could not violate their oath to support the
Constitution of the United States; and, 4. That in default of
legislative support, Congress would be bound to supply it for any right
under the Constitution.
The serious aspect of the matter, however, to Douglas was not the
criticism of the Republicans, but the view taken by Southern Democratic
leaders, of his "Freeport doctrine," or doctrine of "unfriendly
legislation." His opposition to the Lecompton Constitution in the
Senate, grievous stumbling-block to their schemes as it had proved,
might yet be passed over as a reckless breach of party discipline; but
this new announcement at Freeport was unpardonable doctrinal heresy, as
rank as the abolitionism of Giddings and Lovejoy.
The Freeport joint debate took place August 27, 1858. When Congress
convened on the first Monday in December of the same year, one of the
first acts of the Democratic senators was to put him under party ban by
removing him from the chairmanship of the Committee on Territories, a
position he had held for eleven years. In due time, also, the Southern
leaders broke up the Charleston convention rather than permit him to be
nominated for President; and, three weeks later, Senator Benjamin of
Louisiana frankly set forth, in a Senate speech, the light in which they
viewed his apostacy:
"We accuse him for this, to wit: that having bargained with us upon a
point upon which we were at issue, that it should be considered a
judicial point; that he would abide the decision; that he would act
under the decision, and consider it a doctrine of the party; that having
said that to us here in the Senate, he went home, and, under the stress
of a local election, his knees gave way; his whole person trembled. His
adversary stood upon principle and was beaten; and, lo! he is the
candidate of a mighty party for the presidency of the United States. The
senator from Illinois faltered. He got the prize for which he faltered;
but, lo! the grand prize of his ambition to-day slips from his grasp,
because of his faltering in his former contest, and his success in the
canvass for the Senate, purchased for an ignoble price, has cost him the
loss of the presidency of the United States."
In addition to the seven joint debates, both Lincoln and Douglas made
speeches at separate meetings of their own during almost every day of
the three months' campaign, and sometimes two or three speeches a day.
At the election which was held on November 2, 1858, a legislature was
chosen containing fifty-four Democrats and forty-six Republicans,
notwithstanding the fact that the Republicans had a plurality of
thirty-eight hundred and twenty-one on the popular vote. But the
apportionment was based on the census of 1850, and did not reflect
recent changes in political sentiment, which, if fairly represented,
would have given them an increased strength of from six to ten members
in the legislature. Another circumstance had great influence in causing
Lincoln's defeat. Douglas's opposition to the Lecompton Constitution in
Congress had won him great sympathy among a few Republican leaders in
the Eastern States. It was even whispered that Seward wished Douglas to
succeed as a strong rebuke to the Buchanan administration. The most
potent expression and influence of this feeling came, however, from
another quarter. Senator Crittenden of Kentucky, who, since Clay's death
in 1852, was the acknowledged leader of what remained of the Whig party,
wrote a letter during the campaign, openly advocating the reëlection of
Douglas, and this, doubtless, influenced the vote of all the Illinois
Whigs who had not yet formally joined the Republican party. Lincoln's
own analysis gives, perhaps, the clearest view of the unusual political
conditions:
"Douglas had three or four very distinguished men of the most extreme
antislavery views of any men in the Republican party expressing their
desire for his reëlection to the Senate last year. That would of itself
have seemed to be a little wonderful, but that wonder is heightened when
we see that Wise of Virginia, a man exactly opposed to them, a man who
believes in the divine right of slavery, was also expressing his desire
that Douglas should be reëlected; that another man that may be said to
be kindred to Wise, Mr. Breckinridge, the Vice-President, and of your
own State, was also agreeing with the antislavery men in the North that
Douglas ought to be reëlected. Still to heighten the wonder, a senator
from Kentucky, whom I have always loved with an affection as tender and
endearing as I have ever loved any man, who was opposed to the
antislavery men for reasons which seemed sufficient to him, and equally
opposed to Wise and Breckinridge, was writing letters to Illinois to
secure the reëlection of Douglas. Now that all these conflicting
elements should be brought, while at daggers' points with one another,
to support him, is a feat that is worthy for you to note and consider.
It is quite probable that each of these classes of men thought by the
reëlection of Douglas their peculiar views would gain something; it is
probable that the antislavery men thought their views would gain
something that Wise and Breckinridge thought so too, as regards their
opinions; that Mr. Crittenden thought that his views would gain
something, although he was opposed to both these other men. It is
probable that each and all of them thought they were using Douglas, and
it is yet an unsolved problem whether he was not using them all."
Lincoln, though beaten in his race for the Senate, was by no means
dismayed, nor did he lose his faith in the ultimate triumph of the cause
he had so ably championed. Writing to a friend, he said:
"You doubtless have seen ere this the result of the election here. Of
course 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."
And to another:
"Yours of the 13th was received some days ago. The fight must go on. The
cause of civil liberty must not be surrendered at the end of one or even
one hundred defeats. Douglas had the ingenuity to be supported in the
late contest, both as the best means to break down and to uphold the
slave interest. No ingenuity can keep these antagonistic elements in
harmony long. Another explosion will soon come."
In his "House divided against itself" speech, Lincoln had emphatically
cautioned Republicans not to be led on a false trail by the opposition
Douglas had made to the Lecompton Constitution; that his temporary
quarrel with the Buchanan administration could not be relied upon to
help overthrow that pro-slavery dynasty.
"How can he oppose the advances of slavery? He don't care anything about
it. His avowed mission is impressing the 'public heart' to care nothing
about it.... Whenever, if ever, he and we can come together on principle
so that our great cause may have assistance from his great ability, I
hope to have interposed no adventitious obstacle. But, clearly, he is
not now with us--he does not pretend to be--he does not promise ever to
be. Our cause, then, must be intrusted to, and conducted by, its own
undoubted friends--those whose hands are free, whose hearts are in the
work, who do care for the result."
Since the result of the Illinois senatorial campaign had assured the
reëlection of Douglas to the Senate, Lincoln's sage advice acquired a
double significance and value. Almost immediately after the close of the
campaign Douglas took a trip through the Southern States, and in
speeches made by him at Memphis, at New Orleans, and at Baltimore sought
to regain the confidence of Southern politicians by taking decidedly
advanced ground toward Southern views on the slavery question. On the
sugar plantations of Louisiana he said, it was not a question between
the white man and the negro, but between the negro and the crocodile. He
would say that between the negro and the crocodile, he took the side of
the negro; but between the negro and the white man, he would go for the
white man. The Almighty had drawn a line on this continent, on the one
side of which the soil must be cultivated by slave labor? on the other,
by white labor. That line did not run on 36° and 30' [the Missouri
Compromise line], for 36° and 30' runs over mountains and through
valleys. But this slave line, he said, meanders in the sugar-fields and
plantations of the South, and the people living in their different
localities and in the Territories must determine for themselves whether
their "middle belt" were best adapted to slavery or free labor. He
advocated the eventual annexation of Cuba and Central America. Still
going a step further, he laid down a far-reaching principle.
"It is a law of humanity," he said, "a law of civilization that whenever
a man or a race of men show themselves incapable of managing their own
affairs, they must consent to be governed by those who are capable of
performing the duty.... In accordance with this principle, I assert that
the negro race, under all circumstances, at all times, and in all
countries, has shown itself incapable of self-government."
This pro-slavery coquetting, however, availed him nothing, as he felt
himself obliged in the same speeches to defend his Freeport doctrine.
Having taken his seat in Congress, Senator Brown of Mississippi, toward
the close of the short session, catechized him sharply on this point.
"If the territorial legislature refuses to act," he inquired "will you
act? If it pass unfriendly acts, will you pass friendly? If it pass laws
hostile to slavery, will you annul them, and substitute laws favoring
slavery in their stead?"
There was no evading these direct questions, and Douglas answered
frankly:
"I tell you, gentlemen of the South, in all candor, I do not believe a
Democratic candidate can ever carry any one Democratic State of the
North on the platform that it is the duty of the Federal government to
force the people of a Territory to have slavery when they do not want
it."
An extended discussion between Northern and Southern Democratic
senators followed the colloquy, which showed that the Freeport doctrine
had opened up an irreparable schism between the Northern and Southern
wings of the Democratic party.
In all the speeches made by Douglas during his Southern tour, he
continually referred to Mr. Lincoln as the champion of abolitionism, and
to his doctrines as the platform of the abolition or Republican party.
The practical effect of this course was to extend and prolong the
Illinois senatorial campaign of 1858, to expand it to national breadth,
and gradually to merge it in the coming presidential campaign. The
effect of this was not only to keep before the public the position of
Lincoln as the Republican champion of Illinois, but also gradually to
lift him into general recognition as a national leader. Throughout the
year 1859 politicians and newspapers came to look upon Lincoln as the
one antagonist who could at all times be relied on to answer and refute
the Douglas arguments. His propositions were so forcible and direct, his
phraseology so apt and fresh, that they held the attention and excited
comment. A letter written by him in answer to an invitation to attend a
celebration of Jefferson's birthday in Boston, contains some notable
passages:
"Soberly, it is now no child's play to save the principles of Jefferson
from total overthrow in this nation. One would state with great
confidence that he could convince any sane child that the simpler
propositions of Euclid are true; but, nevertheless, he would fail,
utterly, with one who should deny the definitions and axioms. The
principles of Jefferson are the definitions and axioms of free society.
And yet they are denied and evaded with no small show of success. One
dashingly calls them 'glittering generalities.' Another bluntly calls
them 'self-evident lies.' And others insidiously argue that they apply
to 'superior races.' These expressions, differing in form, are identical
in object and effect--the supplanting the principles of free government,
and restoring those of classification, caste, and legitimacy. They would
delight a convocation of crowned heads plotting against the people. They
are the vanguard, the miners and sappers of returning despotism. We must
repulse them, or they will subjugate us. This is a world of
compensation; and he who would be no slave must consent to have no
slave. Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves,
and, under a just God, cannot long retain it."
Douglas's quarrel with the Buchanan administration had led many
Republicans to hope that they might be able to utilize his name and his
theory of popular sovereignty to aid them in their local campaigns.
Lincoln knew from his recent experience the peril of this delusive party
strategy, and was constant and earnest in his warnings against adopting
it. In a little speech after the Chicago municipal election on March 1,
1859, he said:
"If we, the Republicans of this State, had made Judge Douglas our
candidate for the Senate of the United States last year, and had elected
him, there would to-day be no Republican party in this Union.... Let the
Republican party of Illinois dally with Judge Douglas, let them fall in
behind him and make him their candidate, and they do not absorb him--he
absorbs them. They would come out at the end all Douglas men, all
claimed by him as having indorsed every one of his doctrines upon the
great subject with which the whole nation is engaged at this hour--that
the question of negro slavery is simply a question of dollars and
cents? that the Almighty has drawn a line across the continent, on one
side of which labor--the cultivation of the soil--must always be
performed by slaves. It would be claimed that we, like him, do not care
whether slavery is voted up or voted down. Had we made him our candidate
and given him a great majority, we should never have heard an end of
declarations by him that we had indorsed all these dogmas."
To a Kansas friend he wrote on May 14, 1859:
"You will probably adopt resolutions in the nature of a platform. I
think the only temptation will be to lower the Republican standard in
order to gather recruits In my judgment, such a step would be a serious
mistake, and open a gap through which more would pass out than pass in.
And this would be the same whether the letting down should be in
deference to Douglasism, or to the Southern opposition element; either
would surrender the object of the Republican organization--the
preventing of the spread and nationalization of slavery.... Let a union
be attempted on the basis of ignoring the slavery question, and
magnifying other questions which the people are just now not caring
about, and it will result in gaining no single electoral vote in the
South, and losing every one in the North."
To Schuyler Colfax (afterward Vice-President) he said in a letter dated
July 6, 1859:
"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."
And again, to another warm friend in Columbus, Ohio, he wrote in a
letter dated July 28, 1859:
"There is another thing our friends are doing which gives me some
uneasiness. It is their leaning toward 'popular sovereignty.' There are
three substantial objections to this. First, no party can command
respect which sustains this year what it opposed last. Secondly Douglas
(who is the most dangerous enemy of liberty, because the most insidious
one) would have little support in the North, and, by consequence, no
capital to trade on in the South, if it were not for his friends thus
magnifying him and his humbug. But lastly, and chiefly, Douglas's
popular sovereignty, accepted by the public mind as a just principle,
nationalizes slavery, and revives the African slave-trade inevitably.
Taking slaves into new Territories, and buying slaves in Africa, are
identical things, identical rights or identical wrongs, and the argument
which establishes one will establish the other. Try a thousand years for
a sound reason why Congress shall not hinder the people of Kansas from
having slaves, and when you have found it, it will be an equally good
one why Congress should not hinder the people of Georgia from importing
slaves from Africa."
An important election occurred in the State of Ohio in the autumn of
1859, and during the canvass Douglas made two speeches in which, as
usual, his pointed attacks were directed against Lincoln by name. Quite
naturally, the Ohio Republicans called Lincoln to answer him, and the
marked impression created by Lincoln's replies showed itself not alone
in their unprecedented circulation in print in newspapers and pamphlets,
but also in the decided success which the Ohio Republicans gained at the
polls. About the same time, also, Douglas printed a long political essay
in "Harper's Magazine," using as a text quotations from Lincoln's "House
divided against itself" speech, and Seward's Rochester speech defining
the "irrepressible conflict." Attorney-General Black of President
Buchanan's cabinet here entered the lists with an anonymously printed
pamphlet in pungent criticism of Douglas's "Harper" essay; which again
was followed by reply and rejoinder on both sides.
Into this field of overheated political controversy the news of the John
Brown raid at Harper's Ferry on Sunday, October 19, fell with startling
portent. The scattering and tragic fighting in the streets of the little
town on Monday; the dramatic capture of the fanatical leader on Tuesday
by a detachment of Federal marines under the command of Robert E. Lee,
the famous Confederate general of subsequent years; the undignified
haste of his trial and condemnation by the Virginia authorities; the
interviews of Governor Wise, Senator Mason, and Representative
Vallandigham with the prisoner; his sentence, and execution on the
gallows on December 2; and the hysterical laudations of his acts by a
few prominent and extreme abolitionists in the East, kept public
opinion, both North and South, in an inflamed and feverish state for
nearly six weeks.
Mr. Lincoln's habitual freedom from passion, and the steady and
common-sense judgment he applied to this exciting event, which threw
almost everybody into an extreme of feeling or utterance, are well
illustrated by the temperate criticism he made of it a few months later:
"John Brown's effort was peculiar. It was not a slave insurrection. It
was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt among slaves, in which
the slaves refused to participate. In fact, it was so absurd that the
slaves, with all their ignorance, saw plainly enough it could not
succeed. That affair, in its philosophy, corresponds with the many
attempts, related in history, at the assassination of kings and
emperors. An enthusiast broods over the oppression of a people till he
fancies himself commissioned by Heaven to liberate them. He ventures the
attempt, which ends in little else than his own execution. Orsini's
attempt on Louis Napoleon and John Brown's attempt at Harper's Ferry
were, in their philosophy, precisely the same. The eagerness to cast
blame on old England in the one case, and on New England in the other,
does not disprove the sameness of the two things."
X
Lincoln's Kansas Speeches--The Cooper Institute Speech--New England
Speeches--The Democratic Schism--Senator Brown's Resolutions--Jefferson
Davis's Resolutions--The Charleston Convention--Majority and Minority
Reports--Cotton State Delegations Secede--Charleston Convention
Adjourns--Democratic Baltimore Convention Splits--Breckinridge
Nominated--Douglas Nominated--Bell Nominated by Union Constitutional
Convention--Chicago Convention--Lincoln's Letters to Pickett and
Judd--The Pivotal States--Lincoln Nominated
During the month of December, 1859, Mr. Lincoln was invited to the
Territory of Kansas, where he made speeches at a number of its new and
growing towns. In these speeches he laid special emphasis upon the
necessity of maintaining undiminished the vigor of the Republican
organization and the high plane of the Republican doctrine.
"We want, and must have," said he, "a national policy as to slavery
which deals with it as being a wrong. Whoever would prevent slavery
becoming national and perpetual yields all when he yields to a policy
which treats it either as being right, or as being a matter of
indifference." "To effect our main object we have to employ auxiliary
means. We must hold conventions, adopt platforms, select candidates, and
carry elections. At every step we must be true to the main purpose. If
we adopt a platform falling short of our principle, or elect a man
rejecting our principle, we not only take nothing affirmative by our
success, but we draw upon us the positive embarrassment of seeming
ourselves to have abandoned our principle."
A still more important service, however, in giving the Republican
presidential campaign of 1860 precise form and issue was rendered by him
during the first three months of the new year. The public mind had
become so preoccupied with the dominant subject of national politics,
that a committee of enthusiastic young Republicans of New York and
Brooklyn arranged a course of public lectures by prominent statesmen and
Mr. Lincoln was invited to deliver the third one of the series. The
meeting took place in the hall of the Cooper Institute in New York, on
the evening of February 27, 1860; and the audience was made up of ladies
and gentlemen comprising the leading representatives of the wealth,
culture, and influence of the great metropolis.
Mr. Lincoln's name and arguments had filled so large a space in Eastern
newspapers, both friendly and hostile, that the listeners before him
were intensely curious to see and hear this rising Western politician.
The West was even at that late day but imperfectly understood by the
East. The poets and editors, the bankers and merchants of New York
vaguely remembered having read in their books that it was the home of
Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett, the country of bowie-knives and pistols,
of steamboat explosions and mobs, of wild speculation and the
repudiation of State debts; and these half-forgotten impressions had
lately been vividly recalled by a several years' succession of newspaper
reports retailing the incidents of Border Ruffian violence and
free-State guerrilla reprisals during the civil war in Kansas. What was
to be the type, the character, the language of this speaker? How would
he impress the great editor Horace Greeley, who sat among the invited
guests? David Dudley Field, the great lawyer, who escorted him to the
platform; William Cullen Bryant, the great poet, who presided over the
meeting?
Judging from after effects, the audience quickly forgot these
questioning thoughts. They had but time to note Mr. Lincoln's impressive
stature, his strongly marked features, the clear ring of his rather
high-pitched voice, and the almost commanding earnestness of his manner.
His beginning foreshadowed a dry argument using as a text Douglas's
phrase that "our fathers, when they framed the government under which we
live, understood this question just as well and even better than we do
now," But the concise statements, the strong links of reasoning, and the
irresistible conclusions of the argument with which the speaker followed
his close historical analysis of how "our fathers" understood "this
question," held every listener as though each were individually merged
in the speaker's thought and demonstration.
"It is surely safe to assume," said he, with emphasis, "that the
thirty-nine framers of the original Constitution and the seventy-six
members of the Congress which framed the amendments thereto, taken
together, do certainly include those who may be fairly called 'our
fathers who framed the government under which we live.' And, so
assuming, I defy any man to show that any one of them ever, in his whole
life, declared that, in his understanding, any proper division of local
from Federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbade the
Federal government to control as to slavery in the Federal Territories."
With equal skill he next dissected the complaints, the demands, and the
threats to dissolve the Union made by the Southern States, pointed out
their emptiness, their fallacy, and their injustice, and defined the
exact point and center of the agitation.
"Holding, as they do," said he, "that slavery is morally right and
socially elevating, they cannot cease to demand a full national
recognition of it, as a legal right and a social blessing. Nor can we
justifiably withhold this on any ground, save our conviction that
slavery is wrong. If slavery is right, all words, acts, laws, and
constitutions against it are themselves wrong, and should be silenced
and swept away. If it is right, we cannot justly object to its
nationality--its universality! If it is wrong, they cannot justly insist
upon its extension--its enlargement. All they ask we could readily
grant, if we thought slavery right; all we ask they could as readily
grant, if they thought it wrong. Their thinking it right, and our
thinking it wrong, is the precise fact upon which depends the whole
controversy.... Wrong as we think slavery is we can yet afford to let it
alone where it is, because that much is due to the necessity arising
from its actual presence in the nation; but can we, while our votes will
prevent it, allow it to spread into the national Territories, and to
overrun us here in the free States? If our sense of duty forbids this,
then let us stand by our duty, fearlessly and effectively. Let us be
diverted by none of those sophistical contrivances wherewith we are so
industriously plied and belabored, contrivances such as groping for some
middle ground between the right and the wrong, vain as the search for a
man who should be neither a living man nor a dead man; such as a policy
of 'don't care,' on a question about which all true men do care; such as
Union appeals beseeching true Union men to yield to disunionists;
reversing the divine rule, and calling, not the sinners, but the
righteous to repentance; such as invocations to Washington, imploring
men to unsay what Washington said, and undo what Washington did. Neither
let us be slandered from our duty by false accusations against us, nor
frightened from it by menaces of destruction to the government nor of
dungeons to ourselves. Let us have faith that right makes might, and in
that faith let us, to the end, dare to do our duty as we understand it."
The close attention bestowed on its delivery, the hearty applause that
greeted its telling points, and the enthusiastic comments of the
Republican journals next morning showed that Lincoln's Cooper Institute
speech had taken New York by storm. It was printed in full in four of
the leading New York dailies, and at once went into large circulation in
carefully edited pamphlet editions. From New York, Lincoln made a tour
of speech-making through several of the New England States, and was
everywhere received with enthusiastic welcome and listened to with an
eagerness that bore a marked result in their spring elections. The
interest of the factory men who listened to these addresses was equaled,
perhaps excelled, by the gratified surprise of college professors when
they heard the style and method of a popular Western orator that would
bear the test of their professional criticism and compare with the best
examples in their standard text-books.
The attitude of the Democratic party in the coming presidential campaign
was now also rapidly taking shape. Great curiosity existed whether the
radical differences between its Northern and Southern wings could by any
possibility be removed or adjusted, whether the adherents of Douglas and
those of Buchanan could be brought to join in a common platform and in
the support of a single candidate. The Democratic leaders in the
Southern States had become more and more out-spoken in their pro-slavery
demands. They had advanced step by step from the repeal of the Missouri
Compromise in 1854, the attempt to capture Kansas by Missouri invasions
in 1855 and 1856, the support of the Dred Scott decision and the
Lecompton fraud in 1857, the repudiation of Douglas's Freeport heresy in
1858, to the demand for a congressional slave code for the Territories
and the recognition of the doctrine of property in slaves. These last
two points they had distinctly formulated in the first session of the
Thirty-sixth Congress. On January 18, 1860, Senator Brown of Mississippi
introduced into the Senate two resolutions, one asserting the
nationality of slavery, the other that, when necessary, Congress should
pass laws for its protection in the Territories. On February 2 Jefferson
Davis introduced another series of resolutions intended to serve as a
basis for the national Democratic platform, the central points of which
were that the right to take and hold slaves in the Territories could
neither be impaired nor annulled, and that it was the duty of Congress
to supply any deficiency of laws for its protection. Perhaps even more
significant than these formulated doctrines was the pro-slavery spirit
manifested in the congressional debates. Two months were wasted in a
parliamentary struggle to prevent the election of the Republican, John
Sherman, as Speaker of the House of Representatives, because the
Southern members charged that he had recommended an "abolition" book;
during which time the most sensational and violent threats of disunion
were made in both the House and the Senate, containing repeated
declarations that they would never submit to the inauguration of a
"Black Republican" President.
When the national Democratic convention met at Charleston, on April 23,
1860, there at once became evident the singular condition that the
delegates from the free States were united and enthusiastic in their
determination to secure the nomination of Douglas as the Democratic
candidate for President, while the delegates from the slave States were
equally united and determined upon forcing the acceptance of an extreme
pro-slavery platform. All expectations of a compromise, all hope of
coming to an understanding by juggling omissions or evasions in their
declaration of party principles were quickly dissipated. The platform
committee, after three days and nights of fruitless effort, presented
two antagonistic reports. The majority report declared that neither
Congress nor a territorial legislature could abolish or prohibit slavery
in the Territories, and that it was the duty of the Federal government
to protect it when necessary. To this doctrine the Northern members
could not consent; but they were willing to adopt the ambiguous
declaration that property rights in slaves were judicial in their
character, and that they would abide the decisions of the Supreme Court
on such questions.
The usual expedient of recommitting both reports brought no relief from
the deadlock. A second majority and a second minority report exhibited
the same irreconcilable divergence in slightly different language, and
the words of mutual defiance exchanged in debating the first report rose
to a parliamentary storm when the second came under discussion. On the
seventh day the convention came to a vote, and, the Northern delegates
being in the majority, the minority report was substituted for that of
the majority of the committee by one hundred and sixty-five to one
hundred and thirty-eight delegates--in other words, the Douglas
platform was declared adopted. Upon this the delegates of the cotton
States--Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, South Carolina, Florida, Texas,
and Arkansas--withdrew from the convention. It soon appeared, however,
that the Douglas delegates had achieved only a barren victory. Their
majority could indeed adopt a platform, but, under the acknowledged
two-thirds rule which governs Democratic national conventions, they had
not sufficient votes to nominate their candidate. During the fifty-seven
ballots taken, the Douglas men could muster only one hundred and
fifty-two and one half votes of the two hundred and two necessary to a
choice; and to prevent mere slow disintegration the convention adjourned
on the tenth day, under a resolution to reassemble in Baltimore on June
18.
Nothing was gained, however, by the delay. In the interim, Jefferson
Davis and nineteen other Southern leaders published an address
commending the withdrawal of the cotton States delegates, and in a
Senate debate Davis laid down the plain proposition, "We want nothing
more than a simple declaration that negro slaves are property, and we
want the recognition of the obligation of the Federal government to
protect that property like all other."
Upon the reassembling of the Charleston convention at Baltimore, it
underwent a second disruption on the fifth day; the Northern wing
nominated Stephen A. Douglas of Illinois, and the Southern wing John C.
Breckinridge of Kentucky as their respective candidates for President.
In the meanwhile, also, regular and irregular delegates from some
twenty-two States, representing fragments of the old Whig party, had
convened at Baltimore on May 9 and nominated John Bell of Tennessee as
their candidate for President, upon a platform ignoring the slavery
issue and declaring that they would "recognize no other political
principle than the Constitution of the country, the union of the States,
and the enforcement of the laws."
In the long contest between slavery extension and slavery restriction
which was now approaching its culmination the growing demands and
increasing bitterness of the pro-slavery party had served in an equal
degree to intensify the feelings and stimulate the efforts of the
Republican party; and, remembering the encouraging opposition strength
which the united vote of Frémont and Fillmore had shown in 1856, they
felt encouraged to hope for possible success in 1860, since the Fillmore
party had practically disappeared throughout the free States. When,
therefore, the Charleston convention was rent asunder and adjourned on
May 10 without making a nomination, the possibility of Republican
victory seemed to have risen to probability. Such a feeling inspired the
eager enthusiasm of the delegates to the Republican national convention
which met, according to appointment, at Chicago on May 16.
A large, temporary wooden building, christened "The Wigwam," had been
erected in which to hold its sessions, and it was estimated that ten
thousand persons were assembled in it to witness the proceedings.
William H. Seward of New York was recognized as the leading candidate,
but Chase of Ohio, Cameron of Pennsylvania, Bates of Missouri, and
several prominent Republicans from other States were known to have
active and zealous followers. The name of Abraham Lincoln had also often
been mentioned during his growing fame, and, fully a year before, an
ardent Republican editor of Illinois had requested permission to
announce him in his newspaper. Lincoln, however, discouraged such
action at that time, answering him:
"As to the other matter you kindly mention, I must in candor say 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."
He had given an equally positive answer to an eager Ohio friend in the
preceding July; but about Christmas 1859, an influential caucus of his
strongest Illinois adherents made a personal request that he would
permit them to use his name, and he gave his consent, not so much in any
hope of becoming the nominee for President, as in possibly reaching the
second place on the ticket; or at least of making such a showing of
strength before the convention as would aid him in his future senatorial
ambition at home, or perhaps carry him into the cabinet of the
Republican President, should one succeed. He had not been eager to enter
the lists, but once having agreed to do so, it was but natural that he
should manifest a becoming interest, subject, however, now as always, to
his inflexible rule of fair dealing and honorable faith to all his party
friends.
"I do not understand Trumbull and myself to be rivals," he wrote
December 9, 1859. "You know I am pledged not to enter a struggle with
him for the seat in the Senate now occupied by him; and yet I would
rather have a full term in the Senate than in the presidency."
And on February 9 he wrote to the same Illinois friend:
"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. What I expected when I wrote the
the letter to Messrs. Dole and others is now happening. Your discomfited
assailants are most bitter against me; and they will, for revenge upon
me, lay to the Bates egg in the South, and to the Seward egg in the
North, and go far toward squeezing me out in the middle with nothing.
Can you not help me a little in this matter in your end of the
vineyard?"
It turned out that the delegates whom the Illinois State convention sent
to the national convention at Chicago were men not only of exceptional
standing and ability, but filled with the warmest zeal for Mr. Lincoln's
success; and they were able at once to impress upon delegates from other
States his sterling personal worth and fitness, and his superior
availability. It needed but little political arithmetic to work out the
sum of existing political chances. It was almost self-evident that in
the coming November election victory or defeat would hang upon the
result in the four pivotal States of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana,
and Illinois. It was quite certain that no Republican candidate could
carry a single one of the fifteen slave States; and equally sure that
Breckinridge, on his extreme pro-slavery platform, could not carry a
single one of the eighteen free States. But there was a chance that one
or more of these four pivotal free States might cast its vote for
Douglas and popular sovereignty.
A candidate was needed, therefore, who could successfully cope with
Douglas and the Douglas theory; and this ability had been convincingly
demonstrated by Lincoln. As a mere personal choice, a majority of the
convention would have preferred Seward; but in the four pivotal States
there were many voters who believed Seward's antislavery views to be
too radical. They shrank apprehensively from the phrase in one of his
speeches that "there is a higher law than the Constitution." These
pivotal States all lay adjoining slave States, and their public opinion
was infected with something of the undefined dread of "abolitionism."
When the delegates of the pivotal States were interviewed, they frankly
confessed that they could not carry their States for Seward, and that
would mean certain defeat if he were the nominee for President. For
their voters Lincoln stood on more acceptable ground. His speeches had
been more conservative; his local influence in his own State of Illinois
was also a factor not to be idly thrown away.
Plain, practical reasoning of this character found ready acceptance
among the delegates to the convention. Their eagerness for the success
of the cause largely overbalanced their personal preferences for
favorite aspirants. When the convention met, the fresh, hearty
hopefulness of its members was a most inspiring reflection of the public
opinion in the States that sent them. They went at their work with an
earnestness which was an encouraging premonition of success, and they
felt a gratifying support in the presence of the ten thousand spectators
who looked on at their work. Few conventions have ever been pervaded by
such a depth of feeling, or exhibited such a reserve of latent
enthusiasm. The cheers that greeted the entrance of popular favorites,
and the short speeches on preliminary business, ran and rolled through
the great audience in successive moving waves of sound that were echoed
and reëchoed from side to side of the vast building. Not alone the
delegates on the central platform, but the multitude of spectators as
well, felt that they were playing a part in a great historical event.
The temporary, and afterward the permanent organization, was finished on
the first day, with somewhat less than usual of the wordy and
tantalizing small talk which these routine proceedings always call
forth. On the second day the platform committee submitted its work,
embodying the carefully considered and skilfully framed body of
doctrines upon which the Republican party, made up only four years
before from such previously heterogeneous and antagonistic political
elements was now able to find common and durable ground of agreement.
Around its central tenet, which denied "the authority of Congress, of a
territorial legislature, or of any individuals, to give legal existence
to slavery in any territory of the United States," were grouped vigorous
denunciations of the various steps and incidents of the pro-slavery
reaction, and its prospective demands; while its positive
recommendations embraced the immediate admission of Kansas, free
homesteads to actual settlers, river and harbor improvements of a
national character, a railroad to the Pacific Ocean, and the maintenance
of existing naturalization laws.
The platform was about to be adopted without objection when a flurry of
discussion arose over an amendment, proposed by Mr. Giddings of Ohio, to
incorporate in it that phrase of the Declaration of Independence which
declares the right of all men to life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness. Impatience was at once manifested lest any change should
produce endless delay and dispute. "I believe in the Ten Commandments,"
commented a member, "but I do not want them in a political platform";
and the proposition was voted down. Upon this the old antislavery
veteran felt himself agrieved, and, taking up his hat, marched out of
the convention. In the course of an hour's desultory discussion
however, a member, with stirring oratorical emphasis, asked whether the
convention was prepared to go upon record before the country as voting
down the words of the Declaration of Independence--whether the men of
1860, on the free prairies of the West, quailed before repeating the
words enunciated by the men of '76 at Philadelphia. In an impulse of
patriotic reaction, the amendment was incorporated into the platform,
and Mr. Giddings was brought back by his friends, his face beaming with
triumph; and the stormy acclaim of the audience manifested the deep
feeling which the incident evoked.
On the third day it was certain that balloting would begin, and crowds
hurried to the Wigwam in a fever of curiosity. Having grown restless at
the indispensable routine preliminaries, when Mr. Evarts nominated
William H. Seward of New York for President, they greeted his name with
a perfect storm of applause. Then Mr. Judd nominated Abraham Lincoln of
Illinois and in the tremendous cheering that broke from the throats of
his admirers and followers the former demonstration dwindled to
comparative feebleness. Again and again these contests of lungs and
enthusiasm were repeated as the choice of New York was seconded by
Michigan, and that of Illinois by Indiana.
When other names had been duly presented, the cheering at length
subsided, and the chairman announced that balloting would begin. Many
spectators had provided themselves with tally-lists, and when the first
roll-call was completed were able at once to perceive the drift of
popular preference. Cameron, Chase, Bates, McLean, Dayton, and Collamer
were indorsed by the substantial votes of their own States; but two
names stood out in marked superiority: Seward, who had received one
hundred and seventy-three and one half votes, and Lincoln, one hundred
and two.
The New York delegation was so thoroughly persuaded of the final success
of their candidate that they did not comprehend the significance of this
first ballot. Had they reflected that their delegation alone had
contributed seventy votes to Seward's total, they would have understood
that outside of the Empire State, upon this first showing, Lincoln held
their favorite almost an even race. As the second ballot progressed,
their anxiety visibly increased. They watched with eagerness as the
complimentary votes first cast for State favorites were transferred now
to one, now to the other of the recognized leaders in the contest, and
their hopes sank when the result of the second ballot was announced:
Seward, one hundred and eighty-four and one half, Lincoln, one hundred
and eighty-one; and a volume of applause, which was with difficulty
checked by the chairman, shook the Wigwam at this announcement.
Then followed a short interval of active caucusing in the various
delegations, while excited men went about rapidly interchanging
questions, solicitations, and messages between delegations from
different States. Neither candidate had yet received a majority of all
the votes cast, and the third ballot was begun amid a deep, almost
painful suspense, delegates and spectators alike recording each
announcement of votes on their tally-sheets with nervous fingers. But
the doubt was of short duration. The second ballot had unmistakably
pointed out the winning man. Hesitating delegations and fragments from
many States steadily swelled the Lincoln column. Long before the
secretaries made the official announcement, the totals had been figured
up: Lincoln, two hundred and thirty one and one half, Seward, one
hundred and eighty. Counting the scattering votes, four hundred and
sixty-five ballots had been cast, and two hundred and thirty-three were
necessary to a choice. Seward had lost four and one half, Lincoln had
gained fifty and one half, and only one and one half votes more were
needed to make a nomination.
The Wigwam suddenly became as still as a church, and everybody leaned
forward to see whose voice would break the spell. Before the lapse of a
minute, David K. Cartter sprang upon his chair and reported a change of
four Ohio votes from Chase to Lincoln. Then a teller shouted a name
toward the skylight, and the boom of cannon from the roof of the Wigwam
announced the nomination and started the cheering of the overjoyed
Illinoisans down the long Chicago streets; while in the Wigwam,
delegation after delegation changed its vote to the victor amid a tumult
of hurrahs. When quiet was somewhat restored, Mr. Evarts, speaking for
New York and for Seward, moved to make the nomination unanimous, and Mr.
Browning gracefully returned the thanks of Illinois for the honor the
convention had conferred upon the State. In the afternoon the convention
completed its work by nominating Hannibal Hamlin of Maine for
Vice-President; and as the delegates sped homeward in the night trains,
they witnessed, in the bonfires and cheering crowds at the stations,
that a memorable presidential campaign was already begun.