recognize no political principle other than the Constitution of the
country, the union of the States, and the enforcement of the laws,
and that, as representatives of the constitutional Union men of the
country in national convention assembled, we hereby pledge ourselves
to maintain, protect, and defend, separately and unitedly, these great
principles of public liberty and national safety, against all enemies
at home and abroad, believing that thereby peace may once more be
restored to the country, the rights of the people and of the States
re-established, and the Government again placed in that condition
of justice, fraternity, and equality which, under the example and
Constitution of our fathers, has solemnly bound every citizen of the
United States to maintain a more perfect union, establish justice,
insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote
the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves
and our posterity.
It will be noticed that the American party had entirely disappeared
as a political factor in 1860, and what was called the Constitutional
Union party had its origin from a number of old and conservative
Americans who could not follow either of the old parties. The movement
originated chiefly with the friends of General Houston, of Texas, who
had separated from the Democratic party and was elected Governor of his
State after he identified himself with the American organization. It
was expected by those who did the preliminary work of organizing the
Constitutional Union party that Houston would be made the candidate for
President, and it will be seen that on the 1st ballot he was within
9 votes of Bell. The movement gained unexpected strength through the
North, and when the delegates assembled at Baltimore a majority of them
regarded it as a necessity to nominate two of the ablest, cleanest, and
most conservative men of the country, and John Bell was taken because
it was known that he could command a much larger vote from the old
Whigs and Americans of the South, where the Republicans could have no
votes, than any other candidate. The American party never reappeared
in the political arena after 1856, when it succeeded in carrying the
electoral vote of Maryland for Fillmore.
The contest was one of great activity, with much more bitterness
exhibited by the Democratic factions toward each other than either
displayed toward the Republicans. Douglas took the stump and spoke as
far South as New Orleans, throughout the West, in various places in New
York and other Eastern States. His speeches were the ablest and most
aggressive ever delivered in a national contest. Lincoln, Breckenridge,
and Bell took no prominent individual part in the battle. One of the
peculiar features of the campaign of 1860 was the development of a
war spirit in the North that was quickened by the organization known
as “The Wide-Awakes.” They were Republican organizations uniformed by
caps and capes, and each one carrying a lantern in night processions.
Many of them drilled as military companies, for the threat of war came
up with almost every echo from the South. The young men of the North,
and especially the young men just from our colleges, entered largely
and very enthusiastically into the Lincoln ranks, and in no previous
Presidential battle was there such able and general discussion of
public questions on the hustings. The slavery question had presented a
new phase to the people of the North. It was not a mere battle against
slavery, although that appealed very strongly to the convictions of
most of the Republicans, but the South had, by the deliverances of its
leading men, made the issue directly against the mastery of the free
labor of the North. It was denounced by some of the ablest Southern
leaders as unworthy of respect or recognition, holding that labor was
menial, and that the North was made up very largely of “small-fisted
farmers” and “greasy mechanics,” and Senator Chestnut, of South
Carolina, who delivered the most honest and one of the ablest speeches
on the labor question, compared the slave labor of the South most
favorably with the “mud-sills of the North.” This attitude of the South
logically brought the most intelligent labor classes of all conditions
into the support of the Republican ticket to vindicate their own
manhood and independence. The following table presents the popular and
electoral vote:
══════════════════╤══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╦═════════════════════════════════════
│ POPULAR VOTE. ║ ELECTORAL VOTE.
├─────────────┬─────────────┬─────────────────┬────────────╫────────┬────────┬─────────────┬─────
STATES. │Abraham │Stephen A. │John C. │ John Bell, ║Lincoln.│Douglas.│Breckenridge.│Bell.
│Lincoln, Ill.│Douglas, Ill.│Breckenridge, Ky.│ Tenn. ║ │ │ │
──────────────────┼─────────────┼─────────────┼─────────────────┼────────────╫────────┼────────┼─────────────┼─────
Maine │ 62,811 │ 26,693 │ 6,368 │ 2,046 ║ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
New Hampshire │ 37,519 │ 25,881 │ 2,112 │ 441 ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Vermont │ 33,808 │ 6,849 │ 218 │ 1,969 ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Massachusetts │ 106,533 │ 34,372 │ 5,939 │ 22,331 ║ 13 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Rhode Island │ 12,244 │ 7,707[18]│ ―――――― │ ―――――― ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Connecticut │ 43,792 │ 15,522 │ 14,641 │ 3,291 ║ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
New York │ 362,646 │ 312,510[18]│ ―――――― │ ―――――― ║ 35 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
New Jersey │ 58,324 │ 62,801[18]│ ―――――― │ ―――――― ║ 4 │ 3 │ ―― │ ――
Pennsylvania │ 268,030 │ 16,765 │ 178,871[18] │ 12,776 ║ 27 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Delaware │ 3,815 │ 1,023 │ 7,337 │ 3,864 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 3 │ ――
Maryland │ 2,294 │ 5,966 │ 42,482 │ 41,760 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 8 │ ――
Virginia │ 1,929 │ 16,290 │ 74,323 │ 74,681 ║ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ 15
North Carolina │ ―――――― │ 2,701 │ 48,539 │ 44,990 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 10 │ ――
South Carolina[17]│ ―――――― │ ―――――― │ ―――――― │ ―――――― ║ ―― │ ―― │ 8 │ ――
Georgia │ ―――――― │ 11,590 │ 51,889 │ 42,886 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 10 │ ――
Florida │ ―――――― │ 367 │ 8,543 │ 5,437 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 3 │ ――
Alabama │ ―――――― │ 13,651 │ 48,831 │ 27,875 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 9 │ ――
Mississippi │ ―――――― │ 3,283 │ 40,797 │ 25,040 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 7 │ ――
Louisiana │ ―――――― │ 7,625 │ 22,861 │ 20,204 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 6 │ ――
Texas │ ―――――― │ ―――――― │ 47,548 │ 15,438[18]║ ―― │ ―― │ 4 │ ――
Arkansas │ ―――――― │ 5,227 │ 28,732 │ 20,094 ║ ―― │ ―― │ 4 │ ――
Missouri │ 17,028 │ 58,801 │ 31,317 │ 58,372 ║ ―― │ 9 │ ―― │ ――
Tennessee │ ―――――― │ 11,350 │ 64,709 │ 69,274 ║ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ 12
Kentucky │ 1,364 │ 25,651 │ 53,143 │ 66,058 ║ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ 12
Ohio │ 231,610 │ 187,232 │ 11,405 │ 12,194 ║ 23 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Michigan │ 88,480 │ 65,057 │ 805 │ 405 ║ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Indiana │ 139,033 │ 115,509 │ 12,295 │ 5,306 ║ 13 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Illinois │ 172,161 │ 160,215 │ 2,404 │ 4,913 ║ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Wisconsin │ 86,110 │ 65,021 │ 888 │ 161 ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Minnesota │ 22,069 │ 11,920 │ 748 │ 62 ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Iowa │ 70,409 │ 55,111 │ 1,048 │ 1,763 ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
California │ 39,173 │ 38,516 │ 34,334 │ 6,817 ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
Oregon │ 5,270 │ 3,951 │ 5,006 │ 183 ║ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ――
├─────────────┼─────────────┼─────────────────┼────────────╫────────┼────────┼─────────────┼─────
Totals │ 1,866,452 │1,375,157 │ 847,953 │ 590,631 ║ 180 │ 12 │ 72 │ 39
══════════════════╧═════════════╧═════════════╧═════════════════╧════════════╩════════╧════════╧═════════════╧═════
[17] Chosen by Legislature.
[18] Fusion electoral tickets.
The election of Lincoln was the second great political revolution
in the history of the country, and it came with fearful import. The
revolution won by Jefferson in 1800 simply displaced the Federalists,
gave authority to the Republicans, and liberalized the policy of the
Government. The revolution that brought Lincoln into the Presidency
was the first popular expression emphasizing the purpose of the
nation to halt the extension of slavery; and while the Republican
policy meant no more than to prevent slavery extension, it was well
understood in the South that it menaced the safety of slavery even
where it was then undisputed. The Southerners had little tolerance for
Republicanism. They had seen it grow from the despised Abolition cranks
to the Republican party that had dominated Congress before it elected
a President. Republicans in Congress were seldom treated with respect
by their Southern associates, and often the most wanton and flagrant
insults were given them not only on the floor of the House but on
other occasions.
Personal encounters disgraced the record of both House and Senate,
and the most respectable term the South ever applied to antislavery
members was that of “Black Republican.” Even in Philadelphia, that
became the most loyal of all cities, nearly the whole commercial
and financial interests were arrayed against Lincoln, because they
regarded the Republican party as disturbers of national tranquillity
and of all the interests of trade. So strong was the conservative
element among the old Whigs in that State that the name of Republican
had to be discarded. Curtin was elected Governor as the candidate of
the “People’s party,” and the delegates to the Chicago convention
represented only that organization. When Lincoln’s election was
announced the Democrats could not reconcile themselves to the mastery
of a party they had so openly and persistently despised.
I witnessed an interesting episode in Philadelphia, on the night of
Curtin’s election. The Prince of Wales was then on a visit to this
country, and had just arrived at the Continental Hotel in Philadelphia.
My headquarters as chairman of the Lincoln committee were at the Girard
House immediately opposite, and I saw the handsome young Prince, then a
picture of manly vigor and beauty, stand on the Chestnut Street balcony
for an hour, surrounded by his suite of nobles, watching what he
regarded as the dying agonies of the Republic. The main streets of the
city were crowded with shouting, wrangling, and rioting partisans, and
the Prince obviously congratulated himself that he had just happened
in this country in time to see its angry dissolution. He witnessed
the riotous enthusiasm of the Republicans, and the much more riotous
madness of the defeated party, until he wearied of it, and he was
astounded the next morning to discover that the city was as quiet and
serene as an average Philadelphia Sunday.
Lincoln brought to the Presidency the strongest personality that has
ever adorned the highest trust of the nation. It is studied with
increased interest as time passes onward in its flight, and it is
worthy of extended notice here. I had not met Lincoln personally until
after his election. I had attended the Chicago convention as chairman
of the State committee along with Curtin, and bore some humble part in
aiding the nomination of Lincoln; and my correspondence with him during
the campaign would have made one of the most interesting of Lincoln
relics, but unfortunately the letters were destroyed when Chambersburg,
including my own house, was burnt by General McCausland.
Pennsylvania was the battle ground, and he naturally tried to keep
in close touch with it. His letters were always kind and hopeful,
sometimes quaint, and always going directly to the point of winning
the State. He communicated with me every week from the time I opened
headquarters early in June until after the election, and I prized more
highly the Lincoln correspondence of that struggle than any of all the
many valued letters I have ever received. I think it safe to say that
he was as familiar with the details of the contest in Pennsylvania as
I was myself, and knew every element of strength and every element of
weakness in our lines. He was never enthusiastic or sentimental, but
always thoroughly practical, with occasional flashes of his exquisite
Western humor.
After such intercourse with Lincoln, lasting from the beginning to the
close of the great battle of his life, I of course had formed what I
supposed to be an intelligent and accurate estimate of the character
and attributes of the man, but I never had a glimpse of the grandeur
of Lincoln’s character until I met him personally at his home in
Springfield on the 3d of January, 1861. A contest over the appointment
of Cameron to the Cabinet, in which I took part, in opposition to
Cameron, made Lincoln telegraph me on the 2d of January to visit him
at Springfield. I was then a member of the Senate; the Legislature was
just about to meet, and I made as hurried a trip as possible. I reached
Springfield about seven o’clock on the evening of the 3d, having
telegraphed him in advance that I would arrive at that hour and must
return at eleven. I went from the depot directly to his house, and when
I rang the bell the door was opened by Lincoln himself, and I saw no
other person during my stay.
I think I did not well conceal my disappointment when I stood before
him in the dimly lighted hall looking up into the face of the new
President. There was nothing in his appearance calculated to make a
favorable impression at first sight. He was illy clad, ungraceful in
movement, and his rudely chiselled face, that was always sad in repose,
clearly portrayed the fretting anxieties which his election to the
Presidency to meet the severest trial of the Republic had brought upon
him. He had then decided to appoint Cameron to the Cabinet, against
which I had protested, and he had sent for me to know whether there
were good reasons for a change of judgment. We sat down in his plainly
furnished parlor, and for an hour or more he heard me patiently with
evident interest. During this part of the conversation he said but
little, but gave many incisive questions to be answered. He did not
exhibit a single trace of humor, and it seemed to me most of the time
as if I were making my appeal to a sphinx. He gave no sign whatever
as to whether I impressed him or not, and when I left him I had not
a single clue by which to judge what importance he had attached to
my arguments, but before he retired that night he wrote a letter to
Cameron revoking the appointment, and suggesting that Cameron should
regard the position as tendered, and give a letter of declination.
In that letter, which can be found in Nicolay and Hay’s “Life of
Lincoln,” he uses this language: “You will say this comes of an
interview with McClure, and this is partly but not wholly true.” The
result was that the position of Secretary of War was held open until
Lincoln arrived in Washington, when Seward and Weed finally prevailed
upon the President to give the position to Cameron. He advised me
of his purpose after he had decided, and was much gratified for the
assurance that no factional hostility would be made against either
Cameron or the administration. Seward and Weed were much embittered
at Curtin and Lane for defeating Seward at Chicago, and they dealt a
retributive blow by securing the appointment of Cameron, as Cameron and
Curtin were never in political accord after the bitter struggle they
had for Senator in 1855.
It was not until after the question of the Cabinet appointment was
dismissed that I had an opportunity to see something of Lincoln as he
was. It was my part to do the talking on the Cabinet issue; after that
it was his part to talk, and he gradually developed all the great and
grand qualities of his character. He was appalled at the prospect of
civil war being the sequel of his election to the Presidency, and above
all things, he wanted peace if consistent with the line of duty. He
fully appreciated that he was confronted by graver problems than had
ever beset American statesmanship, and that he was compelled to meet
the great issue of the threatened dismemberment of the Republic.
He was painfully and profoundly impressed with the fearful
responsibility that devolved upon him, but the first great attribute
of his character developed by this discussion, or rather by his
statements of the situation, was his unswerving fidelity to duty
regardless of all personal or political interests, and even regardless
of life itself. He well understood that armed rebellion was apparently
inevitable, and that he must meet the most appalling peril that ever
confronted our free government, and one for which neither the history
of this Government nor of any other Government of the world furnished
precedents to guide him in his course. The right of secession had been
claimed and denied since the formation of the Constitution with almost
equal ability and integrity, and there he was, crowned with the laurels
of the highest trust of the civilized world, with the prospect of a
nearly united South in rebellion, and the North divided—and intensely
divided—as to the power of the Government to maintain the unity of
the States by force. I heard Lincoln in this conversation but a short
time before I discovered that he had but one purpose, from which no
interests could swerve him, and that was to perform his duty with
fidelity and accept the consequences. He felt that as a Republican
President he would owe it to his party to give it the advantages of
power; yet he understood that the Government could not be maintained
without the co-operation of the Democrats.
My next meeting with Lincoln was under circumstances well calculated
to study his true character intelligently. I was one of a dozen or
more who dined with him at what is now the Commonwealth Hotel in
Harrisburg on the evening of the 22d of February, 1861. The dinner was
given by Governor Curtin to the President-elect, and I believe that
none of the guests are now living but myself. The story of Lincoln’s
sudden departure on the memorable midnight journey to Washington from
Harrisburg on that night has been many times told, and in no instance
with entire correctness. He arrived in Philadelphia on the evening of
February 21, and the published programme of his journey to Washington
was from Philadelphia to Harrisburg on the 22d, and from Harrisburg
to Washington by the Northern Central Railroad through Baltimore on
the 23d. He was met in Philadelphia by Mr. Fenton, President of the
Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad, and by Pinkerton’s
detectives, who informed him that he could not pass through Baltimore
according to his published programme without inviting assassination,
that had been deliberately planned; and the son of Senator Seward
brought Lincoln a letter signed by Seward and General Scott, insisting
that he should change his route, because he could not safely pass
through Baltimore if the time of his coming were known.
He was earnestly urged to omit his Harrisburg appointment and take
the eleven o’clock train from Philadelphia to Washington that night,
but he peremptorily refused, and left the question to be determined
at Harrisburg. He hoisted the flag on Independence Hall early on the
morning of the 22d, and delivered an address that betrayed none of
the serious emotions which must have agonized him at the time. He
arrived at Harrisburg early in the afternoon, where I was one of the
legislators to receive him, had a reception and delivered a brief
address in the hall of the House, and soon after five o’clock he sat
down to the dinner at the hotel as the guest of Governor Curtin,
who was there advised by Colonel Lamon and Colonel Sumner of the
information received in Philadelphia the night before, and of the
necessity of considering the question of changing his route.
Dinner was hastily served, when the servants were cleared from the
dining-hall, and Governor Curtin stated the facts to the dining guests,
and insisted that Lincoln’s programme should be changed. Every one
present promptly responded in approval, and the only silent man at the
table was Lincoln. I sat near enough to him to watch and study his
face, and there was not a sign of agitation upon it, and when he was
called upon to give his views, it was at once made evident to all that
he thought much more of commanding the respect and honor of the nation
than of preserving his life. His answer was substantially, and I think
exactly, in these words: “I cannot consent. What would the nation think
of its President stealing into its capital like a thief in the night?”
His voice was clear and distinct, and his cool and earnest manner made
his expression painfully pathetic.
Fortunately, among the guests was the late Colonel Thomas A. Scott,
and when Governor Curtin declared that the question was not one for
Lincoln to decide, Colonel Scott at once proposed to take charge of
the new programme, and send Lincoln back to Philadelphia on a special
train in time to make the eleven o’clock from Broad and Prime Streets
to Washington that night. Scott was a master alike in keenness of
perception and swiftness of execution. He at once directed the
Governor to take Lincoln down to the front of the hotel, where there
were multitudes awaiting to cheer them, and loudly call a carriage to
take them to the Executive Mansion, as that would be the natural place
for them to go. They entered the carriage, drove up along the river
front toward the Executive Mansion, and then made a detour to reach the
depot in thirty minutes, as instructed by Colonel Scott. I accompanied
Colonel Scott to the depot, when he first cleared one track of his line
to Philadelphia, forbidding anything to enter upon it until released,
and with his own hands cut all of the few telegraph wires which then
came into Harrisburg. A locomotive and a car were in readiness at the
time appointed a square below the depot, where Lincoln and Curtin
arrived with Colonel Lamon, and Lincoln and Lamon entered the car for
their journey. When I shook hands with Lincoln and wished him God’s
protection on his journey, he was as cool and deliberate as ever in his
life.
Every precaution had been taken to prevent the knowledge of a change in
Lincoln’s programme being known to any who might possibly communicate
by telegraph, and when the wires were all cut we felt assured that
unless Lincoln should be accidentally detected in Philadelphia,
none would know of his journey until he arrived at Washington. But
one person in Philadelphia was advised of the movement, and he was
Superintendent Kenney, of the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore
Railroad, still prominently connected with its service, who was
instructed by Colonel Scott to meet Lincoln at the Pennsylvania depot
and conduct him to the Broad and Prime station. Beyond Superintendent
Kenney, no one outside of the few in Harrisburg who had arranged and
started Lincoln on his journey had any knowledge of the change in his
route.
He was received by Superintendent Kenney in a carriage, taken to the
Broad and Prime station, where a section of a sleeping car had been
engaged for him, entered it without attracting attention, and at six
o’clock the next morning he was in Washington. We had a sleepless and
a terribly long and anxious night at Harrisburg, but about six o’clock
Colonel Scott reunited the wires in his railroad station, and received
the despatch: “Plums delivered Nuts safely,” which announced the safe
arrival of the President.
THE LINCOLN-McCLELLAN CONTEST
1864
The average intelligent student of our Civil War a generation after the
conflict ended, with Lincoln’s achievements in the grateful remembrance
of every patriot, would naturally assume that Lincoln’s re-election to
the Presidency in 1864 was never in any measure doubtful; but in fact
three months after his renomination in Baltimore his defeat by General
McClellan was generally apprehended by his friends and frankly conceded
by Lincoln himself. On the 23d of August, 1864, he wrote the following
with his signature appended:
“This morning, as for some days past, it seems exceedingly probable
that this administration will not be re-elected. Then it will be my
duty to co-operate with the President-elect so as to save the Union
between the election and the inauguration, as he will have secured his
election on such grounds that he cannot possibly save it afterward.”
This paper he sealed and delivered to Secretary Welles with notice not
to open it until after the election.
[Illustration: ANDREW JOHNSON]