The Bogus Proclamation--The Wade-Davis Manifesto--Resignation
of Mr. Chase--Fessenden Succeeds Him--The Greeley Peace
Conference--Jaquess-Gilmore Mission--Letter of Raymond--Bad Outlook for
the Election--Mr. Lincoln on the Issues of the Campaign--President's
Secret Memorandum--Meeting of Democratic National Convention--McClellan
Nominated--His Letter of Acceptance--Lincoln Reëlected--His Speech on
Night of Election--The Electoral Vote--Annual Message of December 6,
1864--Resignation of McClellan from the Army
The seizure of the New York "Journal of Commerce" and New York "World,"
in May, 1864, for publishing a forged proclamation calling for four
hundred thousand more troops, had caused great excitement among the
critics of Mr. Lincoln's administration. The terrible slaughter of
Grant's opening campaign against Richmond rendered the country painfully
sensitive to such news at the moment; and the forgery, which proved to
be the work of two young Bohemians of the press, accomplished its
purpose of raising the price of gold, and throwing the Stock Exchange
into a temporary fever. Telegraphic announcement of the imposture soon
quieted the flurry, and the quick detection of the guilty parties
reduced the incident to its true rank; but the fact that the fiery
Secretary of War had meanwhile issued orders for the suppression of both
newspapers and the arrest of their editors was neither forgiven nor
forgotten. The editors were never incarcerated, and the journals resumed
publication after an interval of only two days, but the incident was
vigorously employed during the entire summer as a means of attack upon
the administration.
Violent opposition to Mr. Lincoln came also from those members of both
Houses of Congress who disapproved his attitude on reconstruction.
Though that part of his message of December 8, 1863, relating to the
formation of loyal State governments in districts which had been in
rebellion at first received enthusiastic commendation from both
conservatives and radicals, it was soon evident that the millennium had
not yet arrived, and that in a Congress composed of men of such positive
convictions and vehement character, there were many who would not submit
permanently to the leadership of any man, least of all to that of one so
reasonable, so devoid of malice, as the President.
Henry Winter Davis at once moved that that part of the message be
referred to a special committee of which he was chairman, and on
February 15 reported a bill whose preamble declared the Confederate
States completely out of the Union; prescribing a totally different
method of reëstablishing loyal State governments, one of the essentials
being the prohibition of slavery. Congress rejected the preamble, but
after extensive debate accepted the bill, which breathed the same spirit
throughout. The measure was also finally acceded to in the Senate, and
came to Mr. Lincoln for signature in the closing hours of the session.
He laid it aside and went on with other business, despite the evident
anxiety of several friends, who feared his failure to indorse it would
lose the Republicans many votes in the Northwest. In stating his
attitude to his cabinet he said:
"This bill and the position of these gentlemen seem to me, in asserting
that the insurrectionary States are no longer in the Union, to make the
fatal admission that States, whenever they please, may of their own
motion dissolve their connection with the Union. Now we cannot survive
that admission, I am convinced. If that be true, I am not President;
these gentlemen are not Congress. I have laboriously endeavored to avoid
that question ever since it first began to be mooted, and thus to avoid
confusion and disturbance in our own councils. It was to obviate this
question that I earnestly favored the movement for an amendment to the
Constitution abolishing slavery, which passed the Senate and failed in
the House. I thought it much better, if it were possible, to restore the
Union without the necessity of a violent quarrel among its friends as to
whether certain States have been in or out of the Union during the
war--a merely metaphysical question and one unnecessary to be forced
into discussion."
But though every member of the cabinet agreed with him, he foresaw the
importance of the step he had resolved to take, and its possible
disastrous consequences to himself. When some one said that the threats
of the radicals were without foundation, and that the people would not
bolt their ticket on a question of metaphysics, he answered:
"If they choose to make a point upon this, I do not doubt that they can
do harm. They have never been friendly to me. At all events, I must keep
some consciousness of being somewhere near right. I must keep some
standard or principle fixed within myself."
Convinced, after fullest deliberation, that the bill was too restrictive
in its provisions, and yet unwilling to reject whatever of practical
good might be accomplished by it, he disregarded precedents, and acting
on his lifelong rule of taking the people into his confidence, issued a
proclamation on July 8, giving a copy of the bill of Congress, reciting
the circumstances under which it was passed, and announcing that while
he was unprepared by formal approval of the bill to be inflexibly
committed to any single plan of restoration, or to set aside the
free-State governments already adopted in Arkansas and Louisiana, or to
declare that Congress was competent to decree the abolishment of
slavery; yet he was fully satisfied with the plan as one very proper
method of reconstruction, and promised executive aid to any State that
might see fit to adopt it.
The great mass of Republican voters, who cared little for the
"metaphysics" of the case, accepted this proclamation, as they had
accepted that issued six months before, as the wisest and most
practicable method of handling the question; but among those already
hostile to the President, and those whose devotion to the cause of
freedom was so ardent as to make them look upon him as lukewarm, the
exasperation which was already excited increased. The indignation of Mr.
Davis and of Mr. Wade, who had called the bill up in the Senate, at
seeing their work thus brought to nothing, could not be restrained; and
together they signed and published in the New York "Tribune" of August 5
the most vigorous attack ever directed against the President from his
own party; insinuating that only the lowest motives dictated his action,
since by refusing to sign the bill he held the electoral votes of the
rebel States at his personal dictation; calling his approval of the bill
of Congress as a very proper plan for any State choosing to adopt it, a
"studied outrage"; and admonishing the people to "consider the remedy of
these usurpations, and, having found it," to "fearlessly execute it."
Congress had already repealed the fugitive-slave law, and to the voters
at large, who joyfully accepted the emancipation proclamation, it
mattered very little whether the "institution" came to its inevitable
end, in the fragments of territory where it yet remained, by virtue of
congressional act or executive decree. This tempest over the method of
reconstruction had, therefore, little bearing on the presidential
campaign, and appealed more to individual critics of the President than
to the mass of the people.
Mr. Chase entered in his diary: "The President pocketed the great
bill.... He did not venture to veto, and so put it in his pocket. It was
a condemnation of his amnesty proclamation and of his general policy of
reconstruction, rejecting the idea of possible reconstruction with
slavery, which neither the President nor his chief advisers have, in my
opinion, abandoned." Mr. Chase was no longer one of the chief advisers.
After his withdrawal from his hopeless contest for the presidency, his
sentiments toward Mr. Lincoln took on a tinge of bitterness which
increased until their friendly association in the public service became
no longer possible; and on June 30 he sent the President his
resignation, which was accepted. There is reason to believe that he did
not expect such a prompt severing of their official relations, since
more than once, in the months of friction which preceded this
culmination, he had used a threat to resign as means to carry some point
in controversy.
Mr. Lincoln, on accepting his resignation, sent the name of David Tod of
Ohio to the Senate as his successor; but, receiving a telegram from Mr.
Tod declining on the plea of ill health, substituted that of William
Pitt Fessenden, chairman of the Senate Committee on Finance, whose
nomination was instantly confirmed and commanded general approval.
Horace Greeley, editor of the powerful New York "Tribune," had become
one of those patriots whose discouragement and discontent led them,
during the summer of 1864, to give ready hospitality to any suggestions
to end the war. In July he wrote to the President, forwarding the letter
of one "Wm. Cornell Jewett of Colorado," which announced the arrival in
Canada of two ambassadors from Jefferson Davis with full powers to
negotiate a peace. Mr. Greeley urged, in his over-fervid letter of
transmittal, that the President make overtures on the following plan of
adjustment: First. The Union to be restored and declared perpetual.
Second. Slavery to be utterly and forever abolished. Third. A complete
amnesty for all political offenses. Fourth. Payment of four hundred
million dollars to the slave States, pro rata, for their slaves. Fifth.
Slave States to be represented in proportion to their total population.
Sixth. A national convention to be called at once.
Though Mr. Lincoln had no faith in Jewett's story, and doubted whether
the embassy had any existence, he determined to take immediate action on
this proposition. He felt the unreasonableness and injustice of Mr.
Greeley's letter, which in effect charged his administration with a
cruel disinclination to treat with the rebels, and resolved to convince
him at least, and perhaps others, that there was no foundation for these
reproaches. So he arranged that the witness of his willingness to listen
to any overtures that might come from the South should be Mr. Greeley
himself, and answering his letter at once on July 9, said:
"If you can find any person, anywhere, professing to have any
proposition of Jefferson Davis in writing, for peace, embracing the
restoration of the Union and abandonment of slavery, whatever else it
embraces, say to him he may come to me with you, and that if he really
brings such proposition he shall at the least have safe conduct with the
paper (and without publicity, if he chooses) to the point where you
shall have met him. The same if there be two or more persons."
This ready acquiescence evidently surprised and somewhat embarrassed Mr.
Greeley, who replied by several letters of different dates, but made no
motion to produce his commissioners. At last, on the fifteenth, to end a
correspondence which promised to be indefinitely prolonged, the
President telegraphed him: "I was not expecting you to send me a letter,
but to bring me a man or men." Mr. Greeley then went to Niagara, and
wrote from there to the alleged commissioners, Clement C. Clay and James
P. Holcombe, offering to conduct them to Washington, but neglecting to
mention the two conditions--restoration of the Union and abandonment of
slavery--laid down in Mr. Lincoln's note of the ninth and repeated by
him on the fifteenth. Even with this great advantage, Clay and Holcombe
felt themselves too devoid of credentials to accept Mr. Greeley's offer,
but replied that they could easily get credentials, or that other agents
could be accredited, if they could be sent to Richmond armed with "the
circumstances disclosed in this correspondence."
This, of course, meant that Mr. Lincoln should take the initiative in
suing the Richmond authorities for peace on terms proposed by them. The
essential impossibility of these terms was not, however, apparent to Mr.
Greeley, who sent them on to Washington, soliciting fresh instructions.
With unwearied patience, Mr. Lincoln drew up a final paper, "To Whom it
may Concern," formally restating his position, and despatched Major Hay
with it to Niagara. This ended the conference; the Confederates charging
the President through the newspapers with a "sudden and entire change of
views"; while Mr. Greeley, being attacked by his colleagues of the press
for his action, could defend himself only by implied censure of the
President, utterly overlooking the fact that his own original letter had
contained the identical propositions Mr. Lincoln insisted upon.
The discussion grew so warm that both he and his assailants at last
joined in a request to Mr. Lincoln to permit the publication of the
correspondence. This was, of course, an excellent opportunity for the
President to vindicate his own proceeding. But he rarely looked at such
matters from the point of view of personal advantage, and he feared that
the passionate, almost despairing appeals of the most prominent
Republican editor of the North for peace at any cost, disclosed in the
correspondence, would deepen the gloom in the public mind and have an
injurious effect upon the Union cause. The spectacle of the veteran
journalist, who was justly regarded as the leading controversial writer
on the antislavery side, ready to sacrifice everything for peace, and
frantically denouncing the government for refusing to surrender the
contest, would have been, in its effect upon public opinion, a disaster
equal to the loss of a great battle. He therefore proposed to Mr.
Greeley, in case the letters were published, to omit some of the most
vehement passages; and took Mr. Greeley's refusal to assent to this as a
veto on their publication.
It was characteristic of him that, seeing the temper in which Mr.
Greeley regarded the transaction, he dropped the matter and submitted
in silence to the misrepresentations to which he was subjected by reason
of it. Some thought he erred in giving any hearing to the rebels; some
criticized his choice of a commissioner; and the opposition naturally
made the most of his conditions of negotiation, and accused him of
embarking in a war of extermination in the interests of the negro.
Though making no public effort to set himself right, he was keenly alive
to their attitude. To a friend he wrote:
"Saying reunion and abandonment of slavery would be considered, if
offered, is not saying that nothing else or less would be considered, if
offered.... Allow me to remind you that no one, having control of the
rebel armies, or, in fact, having any influence whatever in the
rebellion, has offered, or intimated, a willingness to a restoration of
the Union, in any event, or on any condition whatever.... If Jefferson
Davis wishes for himself, or for the benefit of his friends at the
North, to know what I would do if he were to offer peace and reunion,
saying nothing about slavery, let him try me."
If the result of Mr. Greeley's Niagara efforts left any doubt that peace
was at present unattainable, the fact was demonstrated beyond question
by the published report of another unofficial and volunteer negotiation
which was proceeding at the same time. In May, 1863, James F. Jaquess,
D.D., a Methodist clergyman of piety and religious enthusiasm, who had
been appointed by Governor Yates colonel of an Illinois regiment,
applied for permission to go South, urging that by virtue of his church
relations he could, within ninety days, obtain acceptable terms of peace
from the Confederates. The military superiors to whom he submitted the
request forwarded it to Mr. Lincoln with a favorable indorsement; and
the President replied, consenting that they grant him a furlough, if
they saw fit, but saying:
"He cannot go with any government authority whatever. This is absolute
and imperative."
Eleven days later he was back again within Union lines, claiming to have
valuable "unofficial" proposals for peace. President Lincoln paid no
attention to his request for an interview, and in course of time he
returned to his regiment. Nothing daunted, however, a year later he
applied for and received permission to repeat his visit, this time in
company with J.R. Gilmore, a lecturer and writer, but, as before,
expressly without instruction or authority from Mr. Lincoln. They went
to Richmond, and had an extended interview with Mr. Davis, during which
they proposed to him a plan of adjustment as visionary as it was
unauthorized, its central feature being a general election to be held
over the whole country, North and South, within sixty days, on the two
propositions,--peace with disunion and Southern independence, or peace
with Union, emancipation, no confiscation, and universal amnesty,--the
majority vote to decide, and the governments at Washington and Richmond
to be finally bound by the decision.
The interview resulted in nothing but a renewed declaration from Mr.
Davis that he would fight for separation to the bitter end--a
declaration which, on the whole, was of service to the Union cause,
since, to a great extent, it stopped the clamor of the peace factionists
during the presidential campaign. Not entirely, however. There was still
criticism enough to induce Henry J. Raymond, chairman of the executive
committee of the Republican party, to write a letter on August 22,
suggesting to Mr. Lincoln that he ought to appoint a commission in due
form to make proffers of peace to Davis on the sole condition of
acknowledging the supremacy of the Constitution; all other questions to
be settled in a convention of the people of all the States.
Mr. Lincoln answered this patiently and courteously, framing, to give
point to his argument, an experimental draft of instructions with which
he proposed, in case such proffers were made, to send Mr. Raymond
himself to the rebel authorities. On seeing these in black and white,
Raymond, who had come to Washington to urge his project, readily agreed
with the President and Secretaries Seward, Stanton, and Fessenden, that
to carry it out would be worse than losing the presidential contest: it
would be ignominiously surrendering it in advance.
"Nevertheless," wrote an inmate of the White House, "the visit of
himself and committee here did great good. They found the President and
cabinet much better informed than themselves, and went home encouraged
and cheered."
The Democratic managers had called the national convention of their
party to meet on the fourth of July, 1864; but after the nomination of
Frémont at Cleveland, and of Lincoln at Baltimore, it was thought
prudent to postpone it to a later date, in the hope that something in
the chapter of accidents might arise to the advantage of the opposition.
It appeared for a while as if this manoeuver were to be successful. The
military situation was far from satisfactory. The terrible fighting of
Grant's army in Virginia had profoundly shocked and depressed the
country; and its movement upon Petersburg, so far without decisive
results, had contributed little hope or encouragement. The campaign of
Sherman in Georgia gave as yet no positive assurance of the brilliant
results it afterward attained. The Confederate raid into Maryland and
Pennsylvania in July was the cause of great annoyance and exasperation.
This untoward state of things in the field of military operations found
its exact counterpart in the political campaign. Several circumstances
contributed to divide and discourage the administration party. The
resignation of Mr. Chase had seemed to not a few leading Republicans a
presage of disintegration in the government. Mr. Greeley's mission at
Niagara Falls had unsettled and troubled the minds of many. The
Democrats, not having as yet appointed a candidate or formulated a
platform, were free to devote all their leisure to attacks upon the
administration. The rebel emissaries in Canada, being in thorough
concert with the leading peace men of the North, redoubled their efforts
to disturb the public tranquility, and not without success. In the
midst of these discouraging circumstances the manifesto of Wade and
Davis had appeared to add its depressing influence to the general gloom.
Mr. Lincoln realized to the full the tremendous issues of the campaign.
Asked in August by a friend who noted his worn looks, if he could not go
away for a fortnight's rest, he replied:
"I cannot fly from my thoughts--my solicitude for this great country
follows me wherever I go. I do not think it is personal vanity or
ambition, though I am not free from these infirmities, but I cannot but
feel that the weal or woe of this great nation will be decided in
November. There is no program offered by any wing of the Democratic
party, but that must result in the permanent destruction of the Union."
"But, Mr. President," his friend objected, "General McClellan is in
favor of crushing out this rebellion by force. He will be the Chicago
candidate."
"Sir, the slightest knowledge of arithmetic will prove to any man that
the rebel armies cannot be destroyed by Democratic strategy. It would
sacrifice all the white men of the North to do it. There are now in the
service of the United States nearly one hundred and fifty thousand
able-bodied colored men, most of them under arms, defending and
acquiring Union territory. The Democratic strategy demands that these
forces be disbanded, and that the masters be conciliated by restoring
them to slavery.... You cannot conciliate the South if you guarantee to
them ultimate success; and the experience of the present war proves
their successes inevitable if you fling the compulsory labor of millions
of black men into their side of the scale.... Abandon all the posts now
garrisoned by black men, take one hundred and fifty thousand men from
our side and put them in the battle-field or corn-field against us, and
we would be compelled to abandon the war in three weeks.... My enemies
pretend I am now carrying on this war for the sole purpose of abolition.
So long as I am President it shall be carried on for the sole purpose of
restoring the Union. But no human power can subdue this rebellion
without the use of the emancipation policy and every other policy
calculated to weaken the moral and physical forces of the rebellion....
Let my enemies prove to the country that the destruction of slavery is
not necessary to a restoration of the Union. I will abide the issue."
The political situation grew still darker. When at last, toward the end
of August, the general gloom had enveloped even the President himself,
his action was most original and characteristic. Feeling that the
campaign was going against him, he made up his mind deliberately as to
the course he should pursue, and laid down for himself the action
demanded by his conviction of duty. He wrote on August 23 the following
memorandum:
"This morning, as for some days past, it seems exceedingly probable that
this administration will not be reëlected. Then it will be my duty to so
coöperate with the President-elect as to save the Union between the
election and the inauguration, as he will have secured his election on
such ground that he cannot possibly save it afterwards."
He then folded and pasted the sheet in such manner that its contents
could not be read, and as the cabinet came together he handed this paper
to each member successively, requesting them to write their names across
the back of it. In this peculiar fashion he pledged himself and the
administration to accept loyally the anticipated verdict of the people
against him, and to do their utmost to save the Union in the brief
remainder of his term of office. He gave no intimation to any member of
his cabinet of the nature of the paper they had signed until after his
reëlection.
The Democratic convention was finally called to meet in Chicago on
August 29. Much had been expected by the peace party from the strength
and audacity of its adherents in the Northwest; and, indeed, the day of
the meeting of the convention was actually the date appointed by rebel
emissaries in Canada for an outbreak which should effect that revolution
in the northwestern States which had long been their chimerical dream.
This scheme of the American Knights, however, was discovered and guarded
against through the usual treachery of some of their members; and it is
doubtful if the Democrats reaped any real, permanent advantage from the
delay of their convention.
On coming together, the only manner in which the peace men and war
Democrats could arrive at an agreement was by mutual deception. The war
Democrats, led by the delegation from New York, were working for a
military candidate; while the peace Democrats, under the leadership of
Vallandigham, who had returned from Canada and was allowed to remain at
large through the half-contemptuous and half-calculated leniency of the
government he defied, bent all their energies to a clear statement of
their principles in the platform.
Both got what they desired. General McClellan was nominated on the first
ballot, and Vallandigham wrote the only plank worth quoting in the
platform. It asserted: "That after four years of failure to restore the
Union by the experiment of war, during which ... the Constitution itself
has been disregarded in every part," public welfare demands "that
immediate efforts be made for a cessation of hostilities." It is
altogether probable that this distinct proposition of surrender to the
Confederates might have been modified or defeated in full convention if
the war Democrats had had the courage of their convictions; but they
were so intent upon the nomination of McClellan, that they considered
the platform of secondary importance, and the fatal resolutions were
adopted without debate.
Mr. Vallandigham, having thus taken possession of the convention, next
adopted the candidate, and put the seal of his sinister approval on
General McClellan by moving that his nomination be made unanimous, which
was done amid great cheering. George H. Pendleton was nominated for
Vice-President, and the convention adjourned--not _sine die_, as is
customary, but "subject to be called at any time and place the executive
national committee shall designate." The motives of this action were not
avowed, but it was taken as a significant warning that the leaders of
the Democratic party held themselves ready for any extraordinary
measures which the exigencies of the time might provoke or invite.
The New-Yorkers, however, had the last word, for Governor Seymour, in
his letter as chairman of the committee to inform McClellan of his
nomination, assured him that "those for whom we speak were animated with
the most earnest, devoted, and prayerful desire for the salvation of the
American Union"; and the general, knowing that the poison of death was
in the platform, took occasion in his letter of acceptance to renew his
assurances of devotion to the Union, the Constitution, the laws, and the
flag of his country. After having thus absolutely repudiated the
platform upon which he was nominated, he coolly concluded:
"Believing that the views here expressed are those of the convention and
the people you represent, I accept the nomination."
His only possible chance of success lay, of course, in his war record.
His position as a candidate on a platform of dishonorable peace would
have been no less desperate than ridiculous. But the stars in their
courses fought against the Democratic candidates. Even before the
convention that nominated them, Farragut had won the splendid victory of
Mobile Bay; during the very hours when the streets of Chicago were
blazing with Democratic torches, Hood was preparing to evacuate Atlanta;
and the same newspaper that printed Vallandigham's peace platform
announced Sherman's entrance into the manufacturing metropolis of
Georgia. The darkest hour had passed; dawn was at hand, and amid the
thanksgivings of a grateful people, and the joyful salutes of great
guns, the presidential campaign began.
When the country awoke to the true significance of the Chicago platform,
the successes of Sherman excited the enthusiasm of the people, and the
Unionists, arousing from their midsummer languor, began to show their
confidence in the Republican candidate, the hopelessness of all efforts
to undermine him became evident.
The electoral contest began with the picket firing in Vermont and Maine
in September, was continued in what might be called the grand guard
fighting in October in the great States of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and
Indiana, and the final battle took place all along the line on November
8. To Mr. Lincoln this was one of the most solemn days of his life.
Assured of his personal success, and made devoutly confident by the
military successes of the last few weeks that the day of peace and the
reëstablishment of the Union was at hand, he felt no elation, and no
sense of triumph over his opponents. The thoughts that filled his mind
were expressed in the closing sentences of the little speech he made in
response to a group of serenaders that greeted him when, in the early
morning hours, he left the War Department, where he had gone on the
evening of election to receive the returns:
"I am thankful to God for this approval of the people; but, while deeply
grateful for this mark of their confidence in me, if I know my heart, my
gratitude is free from any taint of personal triumph. I do not impugn
the motives of any one opposed to me. It is no pleasure to me to triumph
over any one, but I give thanks to the Almighty for this evidence of the
people's resolution to stand by free government and the rights of
humanity."
Lincoln and Johnson received a popular majority of 411,281, and two
hundred and twelve out of two hundred and thirty-three electoral votes,
only those of New Jersey, Delaware, and Kentucky, twenty-one in all,
being cast for McClellan. In his annual message to Congress, which met
on December 5, President Lincoln gave the best summing up of the results
of the election that has ever been written:
"The purpose of the people within the loyal States to maintain the
integrity of the Union was never more firm nor more nearly unanimous
than now.... No candidate for any office whatever, high or low, has
ventured to seek votes on the avowal that he was for giving up the
Union. There have been much impugning of motives and much heated
controversy as to the proper means and best mode of advancing the Union
cause; but on the distinct issue of Union or no Union the politicians
have shown their instinctive knowledge that there is no diversity among
the people. In affording the people the fair opportunity of showing one
to another and to the world this firmness and unanimity of purpose, the
election has been of vast value to the national cause."
On the day of election General McClellan resigned his commission in the
army, and the place thus made vacant was filled by the appointment of
General Philip H. Sheridan, a fit type and illustration of the turn in
the tide of affairs, which was to sweep from that time rapidly onward to
the great decisive national triumph.