Lincoln's Cabinet Program--Members from the South--Questions and
Answers--Correspondence with Stephens--Action of Congress--Peace
Convention--Preparation of the Inaugural--Lincoln's Farewell
Address--The Journey to Washington--Lincoln's Midnight Journey
During the long presidential campaign of 1860, between the Chicago
convention in the middle of May and the election at the beginning of
November, Mr. Lincoln, relieved from all other duties, had watched
political developments with very close attention not merely to discern
the progress of his own chances, but, doubtless, also, much more
seriously to deliberate upon the future in case he should be elected.
But it was only when, on the night of November 6, he sat in the
telegraph office at Springfield, from which all but himself and the
operators were excluded, and read the telegrams as they fell from the
wires, that little by little the accumulating Republican majorities
reported from all directions convinced him of the certainty of his
success; and with that conviction there fell upon him the overwhelming,
almost crushing weight of his coming duties and responsibilities. He
afterward related that in that supreme hour, grappling resolutely with
the mighty problem before him, he practically completed the first
essential act of his administration, the selection of his future
cabinet--the choice of the men who were to aid him.
From what afterward occurred, we may easily infer the general principle
which guided his choice. One of his strongest characteristics, as his
speeches abundantly show, was his belief in the power of public opinion,
and his respect for the popular will. That was to be found and to be
wielded by the leaders of public sentiment In the present instance there
were no truer representatives of that will than the men who had been
prominently supported by the delegates to the Chicago convention for the
presidential nominations. Of these he would take at least three, perhaps
four, to compose one half of his cabinet. In selecting Seward, Chase,
Bates, and Cameron, he could also satisfy two other points of the
representative principle, the claims of locality and the elements of
former party divisions now joined in the newly organized Republican
party. With Seward from New York, Cameron from Pennsylvania, Chase from
Ohio, and himself from Illinois, the four leading free States had each a
representative. With Bates from Missouri, the South could not complain
of being wholly excluded from the cabinet. New England was properly
represented by Vice-President Hamlin. When, after the inauguration,
Smith from Indiana Welles from Connecticut, and Blair from Maryland were
added to make up the seven cabinet members, the local distribution
between East and West, North and South, was in no wise disturbed. It
was, indeed, complained that in this arrangement there were four former
Democrats, and only three former Whigs; to which Lincoln laughingly
replied that he had been a Whig, and would be there to make the number
even.
It is not likely that this exact list was in Lincoln's mind on the night
of the November election, but only the principal names in it; and much
delay and some friction occurred before its completion. The post of
Secretary of State was offered to Seward on December 8.
"Rumors have got into the newspapers," wrote Lincoln, "to the effect
that the department named above would be tendered you as a compliment,
and with the expectation that you would decline it. I beg you to be
assured that I have said nothing to justify these rumors. On the
contrary, it has been my purpose, from the day of the nomination at
Chicago, to assign you, by your leave, this place in the
administration."
Seward asked a few days for reflection, and then cordially accepted.
Bates was tendered the Attorney-Generalship on December 15, while making
a personal visit to Springfield. Word had been meanwhile sent to Smith
that he would probably be included. The assignment of places to Chase
and Cameron worked less smoothly. Lincoln wrote Cameron a note on
January 3, saying he would nominate him for either Secretary of the
Treasury or Secretary of War, he had not yet decided which; and on the
same day, in an interview with Chase, whom he had invited to
Springfield, said to him:
"I have done with you what I would not perhaps have ventured to do with
any other man in the country--sent for you to ask whether you will
accept the appointment of Secretary of the Treasury, without, however,
being exactly prepared to offer it to you."
They discussed the situation very fully, but without reaching a definite
conclusion, agreeing to await the advice of friends. Meanwhile, the
rumor that Cameron was to go into the cabinet excited such hot
opposition that Lincoln felt obliged to recall his tender in a
confidential letter; and asked him to write a public letter declining
the place. Instead of doing this, Cameron fortified himself with
recommendations from prominent Pennsylvanians, and demonstrated that in
his own State he had at least three advocates to one opponent.
Pending the delay which this contest consumed, another cabinet
complication found its solution. It had been warmly urged by
conservatives that, in addition to Bates, another cabinet member should
be taken from one of the Southern States. The difficulty of doings this
had been clearly foreshadowed by Mr. Lincoln in a little editorial which
he wrote for the Springfield "Journal" on December 12:
"_First_. Is it known that any such gentleman of character would accept
a place in the cabinet?
"_Second_. If yea, on what terms does he surrender to Mr. Lincoln, or
Mr. Lincoln to him, on the political differences between them, or do
they enter upon the administration in open opposition to each other?"
It was very soon demonstrated that these differences were
insurmountable. Through Mr. Seward, who was attending his senatorial
duties at Washington, Mr. Lincoln tentatively offered a cabinet
appointment successively to Gilmer of North Carolina, Hunt of Louisiana
and Scott of Virginia, no one of whom had the courage to accept.
Toward the end of the recent canvass, and still more since the election,
Mr. Lincoln had received urgent letters to make some public declaration
to reassure and pacify the South, especially the cotton States, which
were manifesting a constantly growing spirit of rebellion. Most of such
letters remained unanswered, but in a number of strictly confidential
replies he explained the reasons for his refusal.
"I appreciate your motive," he wrote October 23, "when you suggest the
propriety of my writing for the public something disclaiming all
intention to interfere with slaves or slavery in the States: but, in my
judgment, it would do no good. I have already done this many, many
times; and it is in print, and open to all who will read. Those who will
not read or heed what I have already publicly said, would not read or
heed a repetition of it. 'If they hear not Moses and the prophets,
neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead.'"
To the editor of the "Louisville Journal" he wrote October 29:
"For the good men of the South--and I regard the majority of them as
such--I have no objection to repeat seventy and seven times. But I have
bad men to deal with, both North and South; men who are eager for
something new upon which to base new misrepresentations; men who would
like to frighten me, or at least to fix upon me the character of
timidity and cowardice."
Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia, who afterward became Confederate
Vice-President, made a strong speech against secession in that State on
November 14; and Mr. Lincoln wrote him a few lines asking for a revised
copy of it. In the brief correspondence which ensued, Mr. Lincoln again
wrote him under date of December 22:
"I fully appreciate the present peril the country is in, and the weight
of responsibility on me. Do the people of the South really entertain
fears that a Republican administration would, directly or indirectly,
interfere with the slaves, or with them about the slaves? If they do, I
wish to assure you, as once a friend, and still, I hope, not an enemy,
that there is no cause for such fears. The South would be in no more
danger in this respect than it was in the days of Washington. I
suppose, however, this does not meet the case. You think slavery is
right and ought to be extended, while we think it is wrong and ought to
be restricted. That, I suppose, is the rub. It certainly is the only
substantial difference between us."
So, also, replying a few days earlier in a long letter to Hon. John A.
Gilmer of North Carolina, to whom, as already stated, he offered a
cabinet appointment, he said:
"On the territorial question I am inflexible, as you see my position in
the book. On that there is a difference between you and us; and it is
the only substantial difference. You think slavery is right and ought to
be extended; we think it is wrong and ought to be restricted. For this
neither has any just occasion to be angry with the other. As to the
State laws, mentioned in your sixth question, I really know very little
of them. I never have read one. If any of them are in conflict with the
fugitive-slave clause, or any other part of the Constitution, I
certainly shall be glad of their repeal; but I could hardly be
justified, as a citizen of Illinois, or as President of the United
States, to recommend the repeal of a statute of Vermont or South
Carolina."
Through his intimate correspondence with Mr. Seward and personal friends
in Congress, Mr. Lincoln was kept somewhat informed of the hostile
temper of the Southern leaders, and that a tremendous pressure was being
brought upon that body by timid conservatives and the commercial
interests in the North to bring about some kind of compromise which
would stay the progress of disunion; and on this point he sent an
emphatic monition to Representative Washburne on December 13:
"Your long letter received. Prevent as far as possible any of our
friends from demoralizing themselves and their cause by entertaining
propositions for compromise of any sort on slavery extension. There is
no possible compromise upon it but what puts us under again, and all our
work to do over again. Whether it be a Missouri line or Eli Thayer's
popular sovereignty, it is all the same. Let either be done, and
immediately filibustering and extending slavery recommences. On that
point hold firm as a chain of steel."
Between the day when a President is elected by popular vote and that on
which he is officially inaugurated there exists an interim of four long
months, during which he has no more direct power in the affairs of
government than any private citizen. However anxiously Mr. Lincoln might
watch the development of public events at Washington and in the cotton
States; whatever appeals might come to him through interviews or
correspondence, no positive action of any kind was within his power,
beyond an occasional word of advice or suggestion. The position of the
Republican leaders in Congress was not much better. Until the actual
secession of States, and the departure of their representatives, they
were in a minority in the Senate; while the so-called South Americans
and Anti-Lecompton Democrats held the balance of power in the House. The
session was mainly consumed in excited, profitless discussion. Both the
Senate and House appointed compromise committees, which met and labored,
but could find no common ground of agreement. A peace convention met and
deliberated at Washington, with no practical result, except to waste the
powder for a salute of one hundred guns over a sham report to which
nobody paid the least attention.
Throughout this period Mr. Lincoln was by no means idle. Besides the
many difficulties he had to overcome in completing his cabinet, he
devoted himself to writing his inaugural address. Withdrawing himself
some hours each day from his ordinary receptions, he went to a quiet
room on the second floor of the store occupied by his brother-in-law, on
the south side of the public square in Springfield, where he could think
and write in undisturbed privacy. When, after abundant reflection and
revision, he had finished the document, he placed it in the hands of Mr.
William H. Bailhache, one of the editors of the "Illinois State
Journal," who locked himself and a single compositor into the
composing-room of the "Journal." Here, in Mr. Bailhache's presence, it
was set up, proof taken and read, and a dozen copies printed; after
which the types were again immediately distributed. The alert newspaper
correspondents in Springfield, who saw Mr. Lincoln every day as usual,
did not obtain the slightest hint of what was going on.
Having completed his arrangements, Mr. Lincoln started on his journey to
Washington on February 11, 1861, on a special train, accompanied by Mrs.
Lincoln and their three children, his two private secretaries, and a
suite of about a dozen personal friends. Mr. Seward had suggested that
in view of the feverish condition of public affairs, he should come a
week earlier; but Mr. Lincoln allowed himself only time enough
comfortably to fill the appointments he had made to visit the capitals
and principal cities of the States on his route, in accordance with
non-partizan invitations from their legislatures and mayors, which he
had accepted. Standing on the front platform of the car, as the
conductor was about to pull the bell-rope, Mr. Lincoln made the
following brief and pathetic address of farewell to his friends and
neighbors of Springfield--the last time his voice was ever to be heard
in the city which had been his home for so many years:
"My friends: No one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling
of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of
these people, I owe everything. Here I have lived a quarter of a
century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my
children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not
knowing when or whether ever I may return, with a task before me
greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the
assistance of that Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot
succeed. With that assistance, I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who
can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good,
let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care
commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I
bid you an affectionate farewell."
It was the beginning of a memorable journey. On the whole route from
Springfield to Washington, at almost every station, even the smallest,
was gathered a crowd of people in hope to catch a glimpse of the face of
the President-elect, or, at least, to see the flying train. At the
larger stopping-places these gatherings were swelled to thousands, and
in the great cities into almost unmanageable assemblages. Everywhere
there were vociferous calls for Mr. Lincoln, and, if he showed himself,
for a speech. Whenever there was sufficient time, he would step to the
rear platform of the car and bow his acknowledgments as the train was
moving away, and sometimes utter a few words of thanks and greeting. At
the capitals of Indiana, Ohio, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania,
as also in the cities of Cincinnati, Cleveland, Buffalo, New York, and
Philadelphia, a halt was made for one or two days, and a program was
carried out of a formal visit and brief address to each house of the
legislature, street processions, large receptions in the evening, and
other similar ceremonies; and in each of them there was an
unprecedented outpouring of the people to take advantage of every
opportunity to see and to hear the future Chief Magistrate of the Union.
Party foes as well as party friends made up these expectant crowds. The
public suspense was at a degree of tension which rendered every eye and
ear eager to catch even the slightest indication of the thoughts or
intentions of the man who was to be the official guide of the nation in
a crisis the course and end of which even the wisest dared not predict.
In the twenty or thirty brief addresses delivered by Mr. Lincoln on this
journey, he observed the utmost caution of utterance and reticence of
declaration; yet the shades of meaning in his carefully chosen sentences
were enough to show how alive he was to the trials and dangers
confronting his administration, and to inspire hope and confidence in
his judgment. He repeated that he regarded the public demonstrations not
as belonging to himself, but to the high office with which the people
had clothed him; and that if he failed, they could four years later
substitute a better man in his place; and in his very first address, at
Indianapolis, he thus emphasized their reciprocal duties:
"If the union of these States and the liberties of this people shall be
lost, it is but little to any one man of fifty-two years of age, but a
great deal to the thirty millions of people who inhabit these United
States, and to their posterity in all coming time. It is your business
to rise up and preserve the Union and liberty for yourselves and not for
me.... I appeal to you again to constantly bear in mind that not with
politicians, not with Presidents, not with office-seekers, but with you,
is the question, Shall the Union and shall the liberties of this country
be preserved to the latest generations?"
Many salient and interesting quotations could be made from his other
addresses, but a comparatively few sentences will be sufficient to
enable the reader to infer what was likely to be his ultimate conclusion
and action. In his second speech at Indianapolis he asked the question:
"On what rightful principle may a State, being not more than
one-fiftieth part of the nation in soil and population, break up the
nation, and then coerce a proportionally larger subdivision of itself in
the most arbitrary way?"
At Steubenville:
"If the majority should not rule, who would be the judge? Where is such
a judge to be found? We should all be bound by the majority of the
American people--if not, then the minority must control. Would that be
right?"
At Trenton:
"I shall do all that may be in my power to promote a peaceful settlement
of all our difficulties. The man does not live who is more devoted to
peace than I am, none who would do more to preserve it, but it may be
necessary to put the foot down firmly."
At Harrisburg:
"While I am exceedingly gratified to see the manifestation upon your
streets of your military force here, and exceedingly gratified at your
promise to use that force upon a proper emergency--while I make these
acknowledgments, I desire to repeat, in order to preclude any possible
misconstruction, that I do most sincerely hope that we shall have no use
for them; that it will never become their duty to shed blood, and most
especially never to shed fraternal blood. I promise that so far as I may
have wisdom to direct, if so painful a result shall in any wise be
brought about, it shall be through no fault of mine."
While Mr. Lincoln was yet at Philadelphia, he was met by Mr. Frederick
W. Seward, son of Senator Seward, who brought him an important
communication from his father and General Scott at Washington. About the
beginning of the year serious apprehension had been felt lest a sudden
uprising of the secessionists in Virginia and Maryland might endeavor to
gain possession of the national capital. An investigation by a committee
of Congress found no active military preparation to exist for such a
purpose, but considerable traces of disaffection and local conspiracy in
Baltimore; and, to guard against such an outbreak, President Buchanan
had permitted his Secretary of War, Mr. Holt, to call General Scott to
Washington and charge him with the safety of the city, not only at that
moment, but also during the counting of the presidential returns in
February, and the coming inauguration of Mr. Lincoln. For this purpose
General Scott had concentrated at Washington a few companies from the
regular army, and also, in addition, had organized and armed about nine
hundred men of the militia of the District of Columbia.
In connection with these precautions, Colonel Stone, who commanded these
forces, had kept himself informed about the disaffection in Baltimore,
through the agency of the New York police department. The communication
brought by young Mr. Seward contained besides notes from his father and
General Scott, a short report from Colonel Stone, stating that there had
arisen within the past few days imminent danger of violence to and the
assassination of Mr. Lincoln in his passage through Baltimore, should
the time of that passage be known.
"All risk," he suggested, "might be easily avoided by a change in the
traveling arrangements which would bring Mr. Lincoln and a portion of
his party through Baltimore by a night train without previous notice."
The seriousness of this information was doubled by the fact that Mr.
Lincoln had, that same day, held an interview with a prominent Chicago
detective who had been for some weeks employed by the president of the
Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore railway to investigate the danger
to their property and trains from the Baltimore secessionists. The
investigations of this detective, a Mr. Pinkerton, had been carried on
without the knowledge of the New York detective, and he reported not
identical, but almost similar, conditions of insurrectionary feeling and
danger, and recommended the same precaution.
Mr. Lincoln very earnestly debated the situation with his intimate
personal friend, Hon. N.B. Judd of Chicago, perhaps the most active and
influential member of his suite, who advised him to proceed to
Washington that same evening on the eleven-o'clock train. "I cannot go
to-night," replied Mr. Lincoln; "I have promised to raise the flag over
Independence Hall to-morrow morning, and to visit the legislature at
Harrisburg. Beyond that I have no engagements."
The railroad schedule by which Mr. Lincoln had hitherto been traveling
included a direct trip from Harrisburg, through Baltimore, to Washington
on Saturday, February 23. When the Harrisburg ceremonies had been
concluded on the afternoon of the 22d, the danger and the proposed
change of program were for the first time fully laid before a
confidential meeting of the prominent members of Mr. Lincoln's suite.
Reasons were strongly urged both for and against the plan; but Mr.
Lincoln finally decided and explained that while he himself was not
afraid he would be assassinated, nevertheless, since the possibility of
danger had been made known from two entirely independent sources, and
officially communicated to him by his future prime minister and the
general of the American armies, he was no longer at liberty to disregard
it; that it was not the question of his private life, but the regular
and orderly transmission of the authority of the government of the
United States in the face of threatened revolution, which he had no
right to put in the slightest jeopardy. He would, therefore, carry out
the plan, the full details of which had been arranged with the railroad
officials.
Accordingly, that same evening, he, with a single companion, Colonel W.
H. Lamon, took a car from Harrisburg back to Philadelphia, at which
place, about midnight, they boarded the through train from New York to
Washington, and without recognition or any untoward incident passed
quietly through Baltimore, and reached the capital about daylight on the
morning of February 23, where they were met by Mr. Seward and
Representative Washburne of Illinois, and conducted to Willard's Hotel.
When Mr. Lincoln's departure from Harrisburg became known, a reckless
newspaper correspondent telegraphed to New York the ridiculous invention
that he traveled disguised in a Scotch cap and long military cloak.
There was not one word of truth in the absurd statement. Mr. Lincoln's
family and suite proceeded to Washington by the originally arranged
train and schedule, and witnessed great crowds in the streets of
Baltimore, but encountered neither turbulence nor incivility of any
kind. There was now, of course, no occasion for any, since the telegraph
had definitely announced that the President-elect was already in
Washington.