The Thirteenth Amendment--The President's Speech on its Adoption--The
Two Constitutional Amendments of Lincoln's Term--Lincoln on Peace and
Slavery in his Annual Message of December 6, 1864--Blair's Mexican
Project--The Hampton Roads Conference
A joint resolution proposing an amendment to the Constitution
prohibiting slavery throughout the United States had passed the Senate
on April 8, 1864, but had failed of the necessary two-thirds vote in the
House. The two most vital thoughts which animated the Baltimore
convention when it met in June had been the renomination of Mr. Lincoln
and the success of this constitutional amendment. The first was
recognized as a popular decision needing only the formality of an
announcement by the convention; and the full emphasis of speech and
resolution had therefore been centered on the latter as the dominant and
aggressive reform upon which the party would stake its political
fortunes in the presidential campaign. Mr. Lincoln had himself suggested
to Mr. Morgan the wisdom of sounding that key-note in his opening speech
before the convention; and the great victory gained at the polls in
November not only demonstrated his sagacity, but enabled him to take up
the question with confidence among his recommendations to Congress in
the annual message of December 6, 1864. Relating the fate of the measure
at the preceding session, he said:
"Without questioning the wisdom or patriotism of those who stood in
opposition, I venture to recommend the reconsideration and passage of
the measure at the present session. Of course the abstract question is
not changed, but an intervening election shows, almost certainly, that
the next Congress will pass the measure if this does not. Hence there is
only a question of time as to when the proposed amendment will go to the
States for their action. And as it is to so go at all events, may we not
agree that the sooner the better? It is not claimed that the election
has imposed a duty on members to change their views or their votes any
further than, as an additional element to be considered, their judgment
may be affected by it. It is the voice of the people, now for the first
time heard upon the question. In a great national crisis like ours,
unanimity of action among those seeking a common end is very
desirable--almost indispensable. And yet no approach to such unanimity
is attainable unless some deference shall be paid to the will of the
majority, simply because it is the will of the majority. In this case
the common end is the maintenance of the Union; and among the means to
secure that end, such will, through the election, is most clearly
declared in favor of such constitutional amendment."
The joint resolution was called up in the House on January 6, 1865, and
general discussion followed from time to time, occupying perhaps half
the days of that month. As at the previous session, the Republicans all
favored, while the Democrats mainly opposed it; but important exceptions
among the latter showed what immense gains the proposition had made in
popular opinion and in congressional willingness to recognize and embody
it. The logic of events had become more powerful than party creed or
strategy. For fifteen years the Democratic party had stood as sentinel
and bulwark to slavery, and yet, despite its alliance and championship,
the "peculiar institution" was being consumed in the fire of war. It had
withered in popular elections, been paralyzed by confiscation laws,
crushed by executive decrees, trampled upon by marching Union armies.
More notable than all, the agony of dissolution had come upon it in its
final stronghold--the constitutions of the slave States. Local public
opinion had throttled it in West Virginia, in Missouri, in Arkansas, in
Louisiana, in Maryland, and the same spirit of change was upon
Tennessee, and even showing itself in Kentucky. The Democratic party did
not, and could not, shut its eyes to the accomplished facts.
The issue was decided on the afternoon of January 31, 1865. The scene
was one of unusual interest. The galleries were filled to overflowing,
and members watched the proceedings with unconcealed solicitude. "Up to
noon," said a contemporaneous report, "the pro-slavery party are said to
have been confident of defeating the amendment; and after that time had
passed, one of the most earnest advocates of the measure said: "'Tis the
toss of a copper." At four o'clock the House came to a final vote, and
the roll-call showed: yeas, one hundred and nineteen; nays, fifty-six;
not voting, eight. Scattering murmurs of applause followed affirmative
votes from several Democratic members; but when the Speaker finally
announced the result, members on the Republican side of the House sprang
to their feet, and, regardless of parliamentary rules, applauded with
cheers and hand-clappings--an exhibition of enthusiasm quickly echoed by
the spectators in the crowded galleries, where waving of hats and
handkerchiefs and similar demonstrations of joy lasted for several
minutes.
A salute of one hundred guns soon made the occasion the subject of
comment and congratulation throughout the city. On the following night a
considerable procession marched with music to the Executive Mansion to
carry popular greetings to the President. In response to their calls he
appeared at a window and made a brief speech, of which only an abstract
report was preserved, but which is nevertheless important as showing the
searching analysis of cause and effect this question had undergone in
his mind, the deep interest he felt in it, and the far-reaching
consequences he attached to the measure and its success:
"The occasion was one of congratulation to the country and to the whole
world. But there is a task yet before us--to go forward and have
consummated by the votes of the States that which Congress had so nobly
begun yesterday. He had the honor to inform those present that Illinois
had already to-day done the work. Maryland was about half through, but
he felt proud that Illinois was a little ahead. He thought this measure
was a very fitting, if not an indispensable, adjunct to the winding up
of the great difficulty. He wished the reunion of all the States
perfected, and so effected as to remove all causes of disturbance in the
future; and to attain this end it was necessary that the original
disturbing cause should, if possible, be rooted out. He thought all
would bear him witness that he had never shrunk from doing all that he
could to eradicate slavery, by issuing an emancipation proclamation. But
that proclamation falls far short of what the amendment will be when
fully consummated. A question might be raised whether the proclamation
was legally valid. It might be urged that it only aided those that came
into our lines, and that it was inoperative as to those who did not give
themselves up; or that it would have no effect upon the children of
slaves born hereafter; in fact, it would be urged that it did not meet
the evil. But this amendment is a king's cure-all for all the evils. It
winds the whole thing up. He would repeat that it was the fitting, if
not the indispensable, adjunct to the consummation of the great game we
are playing."
Widely divergent views were expressed by able constitutional lawyers as
to what would constitute a valid ratification of the Thirteenth
Amendment; some contending that ratification by three fourths of the
loyal States would be sufficient, others that three fourths of all the
States, whether loyal or insurrectionary, was necessary. Mr. Lincoln, in
a speech on Louisiana reconstruction, while expressing no opinion
against the first proposition, nevertheless declared with great
argumentative force that the latter "would be unquestioned and
unquestionable"; and this view appears to have governed the action of
his successor.
As Mr. Lincoln mentioned with just pride, Illinois was the first State
to ratify the amendment. On December 18, 1865, Mr. Seward, who remained
as Secretary of State in the cabinet of President Johnson, made official
proclamation that the legislatures of twenty-seven States, constituting
three fourths of the thirty-six States of the Union, had ratified the
amendment, and that it had become valid as a part of the Constitution.
Four of the States constituting this number--Virginia, Louisiana,
Tennessee, and Arkansas--were those whose reconstruction had been
effected under the direction of President Lincoln. Six more States
subsequently ratified the amendment, Texas ending the list in February,
1870.
The profound political transformation which the American Republic had
undergone can perhaps best be measured by contrasting the two
constitutional amendments which Congress made it the duty of the Lincoln
administration to submit officially to the States. The first, signed by
President Buchanan as one of his last official acts, and accepted and
indorsed by Lincoln in his inaugural address, was in these words:
"No amendment shall be made to the Constitution which will authorize or
give to Congress the power to abolish or interfere within any State with
the domestic institutions thereof, including that of persons held to
labor or service by the laws of said State."
Between Lincoln's inauguration and the outbreak of war, the Department
of State transmitted this amendment to the several States for their
action; and had the South shown a willingness to desist from secession
and accept it as a peace offering, there is little doubt that it would
have become a part of the Constitution. But the thunder of Beauregard's
guns drove away all possibility of such a ratification, and within four
years the Lincoln administration sent forth the amendment of 1865,
sweeping out of existence by one sentence the institution to which it
had in its first proposal offered a virtual claim to perpetual
recognition and tolerance. The "new birth of freedom" which Lincoln
invoked for the nation in his Gettysburg address, was accomplished.
The closing paragraphs of President Lincoln's message to Congress of
December 6, 1864, were devoted to a summing up of the existing
situation. The verdict of the ballot-box had not only decided the
continuance of a war administration and war policy, but renewed the
assurance of a public sentiment to sustain its prosecution. Inspired by
this majestic manifestation of the popular will, he was able to speak of
the future with hope and confidence. But with characteristic prudence
and good taste, he uttered no word of boasting, and indulged in no
syllable of acrimony; on the contrary, in terms of fatherly kindness he
again offered the rebellious States the generous conditions he had
previously tendered them.
"The national resources, then, are unexhausted, and, as we believe,
inexhaustible. The public purpose to reëstablish and maintain the
national authority is unchanged and, as we believe, unchangeable. The
manner of continuing the effort remains to choose. On careful
consideration of all the evidence accessible, it seems to me that no
attempt at negotiation with the insurgent leader could result in any
good. He would accept nothing short of severance of the Union--precisely
what we will not and cannot give. His declarations to this effect are
explicit and oft-repeated.... What is true, however, of him who heads
the insurgent cause is not necessarily true of those who follow.
Although he cannot reaccept the Union, they can. Some of them, we know,
already desire peace and reunion. The number of such may increase. They
can, at any moment, have peace simply by laying down their arms and
submitting to the national authority under the Constitution. After so
much, the government could not, if it would, maintain war against them.
The loyal people would not sustain or allow it. If questions should
remain, we would adjust them by the peaceful means of legislation,
conference, courts, and votes, operating only in constitutional and
lawful channels.... In presenting the abandonment of armed resistance to
the national authority, on the part of the insurgents, as the only
indispensable condition to ending the war on the part of the government,
I retract nothing heretofore said as to slavery. I repeat the
declaration made a year ago, that 'While I remain in my present
position I shall not attempt to retract or modify the emancipation
proclamation, nor shall I return to slavery any person who is free by
the terms of that proclamation, or by any of the acts of Congress.' If
the people should, by whatever mode or means, make it an executive duty
to reënslave such persons, another, and not I, must be their instrument
to perform it. In stating a single condition of peace, I mean simply to
say that the war will cease on the part of the government whenever it
shall have ceased on the part of those who began it." The country was
about to enter upon the fifth year of actual war; but all indications
were pointing to a speedy collapse of the rebellion. This foreshadowed
disaster to the Confederate armies gave rise to another volunteer peace
negotiation, which, from the boldness of its animating thought and the
prominence of its actors, assumes a special importance. The veteran
politician Francis P. Blair, Sr., who, from his long political and
personal experience in Washington, knew, perhaps better than almost any
one else, the individual characters and tempers of Southern leaders,
conceived that the time had come when he might take up the rôle of
successful mediator between the North and the South. He gave various
hints of his desire to President Lincoln, but received neither
encouragement nor opportunity to unfold his plans. "Come to me after
Savannah falls," was Lincoln's evasive reply. On the surrender of that
city, Mr. Blair hastened to put his design into execution, and with a
simple card from Mr. Lincoln, dated December 28, saying, "Allow the
bearer, F.P. Blair, Sr., to pass our lines, go south and return," as his
only credential, set out for Richmond. From General Grant's camp he
forwarded two letters to Jefferson Davis: one, a brief request to be
allowed to go to Richmond in search of missing title papers presumably
taken from his Maryland home during Early's raid; the other, a longer
letter, explaining the real object of his visit, but stating with the
utmost candor that he came wholly unaccredited, save for permission to
pass the lines, and that he had not offered the suggestions he wished to
submit in person to Mr. Davis to any one in authority at Washington.
After some delay, he found himself in Richmond, and was accorded a
confidential interview by the rebel President on January 12, 1865, when
he unfolded his project, which proved to be nothing less than a
proposition that the Union and Confederate armies cease fighting each
other and unite to drive the French from Mexico. He supported this
daring idea in a paper of some length, pointing out that as slavery, the
real cause of the war, was hopelessly doomed, nothing now remained to
keep the two sections of the country apart except the possible
intervention of foreign soldiery. Hence, all considerations pointed to
the wisdom of dislodging the French invaders from American soil, and
thus baffling "the designs of Napoleon to subject our Southern people to
the 'Latin race.'"
"He who expels the Bonaparte-Hapsburg dynasty from our southern flank,"
the paper said further, "will ally his name with those of Washington and
Jackson as a defender of the liberty of the country. If in delivering
Mexico he should model its States in form and principle to adapt them to
our Union, and add a new southern constellation to its benignant sky
while rounding off our possessions on the continent at the Isthmus, ...
he would complete the work of Jefferson, who first set one foot of our
colossal government on the Pacific by a stride from the Gulf of
Mexico...."
"I then said to him, 'There is my problem, Mr. Davis; do you think it
possible to be solved?' After consideration, he said: 'I think so.' I
then said, 'You see that I make the great point of this matter that the
war is no longer made for slavery, but monarchy. You know that if the
war is kept up and the Union kept divided, armies must be kept afoot on
both sides, and this state of things has never continued long without
resulting in monarchy on one side or the other, and on both generally.'
He assented to this."
The substantial accuracy of Mr. Blair's report is confirmed by the
memorandum of the same interview which Jefferson Davis wrote at the
time. In this conversation, the rebel leader took little pains to
disguise his entire willingness to enter upon the wild scheme of
military conquest and annexation which could easily be read between the
lines of a political crusade to rescue the Monroe Doctrine from its
present peril. If Mr. Blair felt elated at having so quickly made a
convert of the Confederate President, he was further gratified at
discovering yet more favorable symptoms in his official surroundings at
Richmond. In the three or four days he spent at the rebel capital he
found nearly every prominent personage convinced of the hopeless
condition of the rebellion, and even eager to seize upon any contrivance
to help them out of their direful prospects.
But the government councils at Washington were not ruled by the spirit
of political adventure. Abraham Lincoln had a loftier conception of
patriotic duty, and a higher ideal of national ethics. His whole
interest in Mr. Blair's mission lay in the rebel despondency it
disclosed, and the possibility it showed of bringing the Confederates to
an abandonment of their resistance. Mr. Davis had, indeed, given Mr.
Blair a letter, to be shown to President Lincoln, stating his
willingness, "notwithstanding the rejection of our former offers," to
appoint a commissioner to enter into negotiations "with a view to secure
peace to the two countries." This was, of course, the old impossible
attitude. In reply the President wrote Mr. Blair on January 18 the
following note:
"SIR: You having shown me Mr. Davis's letter to you of the twelfth
instant, you may say to him that I have constantly been, am now, and
shall continue ready to receive any agent whom he, or any other
influential person now resisting the national authority, may informally
send to me, with the view of securing peace to the people of our one
common country."
With this, Mr. Blair returned to Richmond, giving Mr. Davis such excuses
as he could hastily frame why the President had rejected his plan for a
joint invasion of Mexico. Jefferson Davis therefore had only two
alternatives before him--either to repeat his stubborn ultimatum of
separation and independence, or frankly to accept Lincoln's ultimatum of
reunion. The principal Richmond authorities knew, and some of them
admitted, that their Confederacy was nearly in collapse. Lee sent a
despatch saying he had not two days' rations for his army. Richmond was
already in a panic at rumors of evacuation. Flour was selling at a
thousand dollars a barrel in Confederate currency. The recent fall of
Fort Fisher had closed the last avenue through which blockade-runners
could bring in foreign supplies. Governor Brown of Georgia was refusing
to obey orders from Richmond, and characterizing them as "despotic."
Under such circumstances a defiant cry of independence would not
reassure anybody; nor, on the other hand, was it longer possible to
remain silent. Mr. Blair's first visit had created general interest;
when he came a second time, wonder and rumor rose to fever heat.
Impelled to take action, Mr. Davis had not the courage to be frank.
After consultation with his cabinet, a peace commission of three was
appointed, consisting of Alexander H. Stephens, Vice-President; R.M.T.
Hunter, senator and ex-Secretary of State; and John A. Campbell,
Assistant Secretary of War--all of them convinced that the rebellion was
hopeless, but unwilling to admit the logical consequences and
necessities. The drafting of instructions for their guidance was a
difficult problem, since the explicit condition prescribed by Mr.
Lincoln's note was that he would receive only an agent sent him "with
the view of securing peace to the people of our one common country." The
rebel Secretary of State proposed, in order to make the instructions "as
vague and general as possible," the simple direction to confer "upon the
subject to which it relates"; but his chief refused the suggestion, and
wrote the following instruction, which carried a palpable contradiction
on its face:
"In conformity with the letter of Mr. Lincoln, of which the foregoing is
a copy, you are requested to proceed to Washington City for informal
conference with him upon the issues involved in the existing war, and
for the purpose of securing peace to the two countries."
With this the commissioners presented themselves at the Union lines on
the evening of January 29, but instead of showing their double-meaning
credential, asked admission, "in accordance with an understanding
claimed to exist with Lieutenant-General Grant." Mr. Lincoln, being
apprised of the application, promptly despatched Major Thomas T. Eckert,
of the War Department, with written directions to admit them under
safe-conduct, if they would say in writing that they came for the
purpose of an informal conference on the basis of his note of January 18
to Mr. Blair. The commissioners having meantime reconsidered the form of
their application and addressed a new one to General Grant which met the
requirements, were provisionally conveyed to Grant's headquarters; and
on January 31 the President commissioned Secretary Seward to meet them,
saying in his written instructions:
"You will make known to them that three things are indispensable, to
wit: First. The restoration of the national authority throughout all the
States. Second. No receding by the Executive of the United States on the
slavery question from the position assumed thereon in the late annual
message to Congress, and in preceding documents. Third. No cessation of
hostilities short of an end of the war, and the disbanding of all forces
hostile to the government. You will inform them that all propositions of
theirs, not inconsistent with the above, will be considered and passed
upon in a spirit of sincere liberality. You will hear all they may
choose to say, and report it to me. You will not assume to definitely
consummate anything."
Mr. Seward started on the morning of February 1, and simultaneously with
his departure the President repeated to General Grant the monition
already sent him two days before: "Let nothing which is transpiring
change, hinder, or delay your military movements or plans." Major Eckert
had arrived while Mr. Seward was yet on the way, and on seeing Jefferson
Davis's instructions, promptly notified the commissioners that they
could not proceed further without complying strictly with President
Lincoln's terms. Thus, at half-past nine on the night of February 1,
their mission was practically at an end, though next day they again
recanted and accepted the President's conditions in writing. Mr.
Lincoln, on reading Major Eckert's report on the morning of February 2,
was about to recall Secretary Seward by telegraph, when he was shown a
confidential despatch from General Grant to the Secretary of War,
stating his belief that the intention of the commissioners was good, and
their desire for peace sincere, and regretting that Mr. Lincoln could
not have an interview with them. This communication served to change his
purpose. Resolving not to neglect the indications of sincerity here
described, he telegraphed at once, "Say to the gentlemen I will meet
them personally at Fortress Monroe as soon as I can get there," and
joined Secretary Seward that same night.
On the morning of February 3, 1865, the rebel commissioners were
conducted on board the _River Queen_, lying at anchor near Fort Monroe,
where President Lincoln and Secretary Seward awaited them. It was agreed
beforehand that no writing or memorandum should be made at the time, so
the record of the interview remains only in the separate accounts which
the rebel commissioners wrote out afterward from memory, neither Mr.
Seward nor President Lincoln ever having made any report in detail. In a
careful analysis of these reports, the first striking feature is the
difference of intention between the parties. It is apparent that Mr.
Lincoln went honestly and frankly to offer them the best terms he could
to, secure peace and reunion, but to abate no jot of official duty or
personal dignity; while the main thought of the commissioners was to
evade the express condition on which they had been admitted to
conference, to seek to postpone the vital issue, and to propose an
armistice by debating a mere juggling expedient against which they had
in a private agreement with one another already committed themselves.
At the first hint of Blair's Mexican project, however, Mr. Lincoln
firmly disclaimed any responsibility for the suggestion, or any
intention of adopting it, and during the four hours' talk led the
conversation continually back to the original object of the conference.
But though he patiently answered the many questions addressed him by the
commissioners, as to what would probably be done on various important
subjects that must arise at once if the Confederate States consented,
carefully discriminating in his answers between what he was authorized
under the Constitution to do as Executive, and what would devolve upon
coördinate branches of the government, the interview came to nothing.
The commissioners returned to Richmond in great disappointment, and
communicated the failure of their efforts to Jefferson Davis, whose
chagrin was equal to their own. They had all caught eagerly at the hope
that this negotiation would somehow extricate them from the dilemmas and
dangers of their situation. Davis took the only course open to him after
refusing the honorable peace Mr. Lincoln had tendered. He transmitted
the commissioners' report to the rebel Congress, with a brief and dry
message stating that the enemy refused any terms except those the
conqueror might grant; and then arranged as vigorous an effort as
circumstances permitted once more to "fire the Southern heart." A public
meeting was called, where the speeches, judging from the meager reports
printed, were as denunciatory and bellicose as the bitterest Confederate
could desire. Davis particularly is represented to have excelled himself
in defiant heroics. "Sooner than we should ever be united again," he
said, "he would be willing to yield up everything he had on earth--if it
were possible, he would sacrifice a thousand lives"; and he further
announced his confidence that they would yet "compel the Yankees, in
less than twelve months, to petition us for peace on our own terms."
This extravagant rhetoric would seem merely grotesque, were it not
embittered by the reflection that it was the signal which carried many
additional thousands of brave soldiers to death, in continuing a
palpably hopeless military struggle.