THE INAUGURATION.
Beautiful for situation and beautiful in construction is the Washington
City of to-day. But it was not so in Lincoln's day. The proper
decoration of the city did not begin until Grant's administration. In
1861 it was comparatively a small city. Its population numbered only
about 65,000. The magnificent modern residences had not been built. The
houses were few, low, not handsome, with hideous spaces of unimproved
land lying between. The streets were not paved with asphalt. Some were
paved with cobble stones, and some consisted of plain aboriginal mud.
The dome of the Capitol was but half finished when Lincoln saw it for
the first time, and the huge derrick which surmounted it was painfully
suggestive of the gallows. The approach was not a well-kept lawn, but a
meadow of grass, ragged and ill-cared for.
Washington society was then, as always, composed of people of education
and social culture, but it was not such as would kindle the enthusiasm
of the patriot. From the time whereof the memory of man runneth not to
the contrary, it had been dominated by the slave power. The District of
Columbia is situated in a slave state. The politics of South Carolina
and Mississippi had always been aggressive, and the social leadership
had been the same. J. G. Holland estimated that not more than one in
five of the people in Washington in the winter of 1860-61 were glad to
have Lincoln come. He was not far from right. Lamon called the city "a
focus of political intrigue and corruption."
For many years, specifically since 1848, the slave power had been
masterful in Washington, while its despotic temper had grown
continually more assertive. The intellectual and moral atmosphere
became increasingly repulsive to those who believed in freedom, and
such people would not therefore choose that city as a place of
residence.
The departments were of course filled with employees in sympathy with
slavery. Pierce had been made President in 1853. The Missouri
Compromise had been repealed in 1854. Buchanan came into office in
1857. The crowning act of his administration was supporting the Kansas
infamy in 1859. From these indications it is easy to estimate the
political status of Washington society when Lincoln entered the city
February 23, 1861. Many thousands of his friends poured in from all
quarters north of Mason and Dixon's line to attend the ceremonies of
the inaugural. But these were transients, and foreign to the prevailing
sentiment of the city.
Every official courtesy, however, was shown to the President-elect. The
outgoing President and cabinet received him politely. He had many
supporters and some personal friends in both houses of congress. These
received him with enthusiasm, while his opponents were not uncivil. The
members of the Supreme Court greeted him with a measure of cordiality.
Both Douglas and Breckinridge, the defeated candidates at the late
election, called on him. The so-called Peace Conference had brought
together many men of local influence, who seized the opportunity of
making his acquaintance. So the few days passed busily as the time for
inauguration approached.
Of course anxiety and even excitement were not unknown. One instance is
enough to relate here. Arrangements were about concluded for the
cabinet appointments. The most important selection was for the
Secretary of State. This position had been tendered to Seward months
before and had by him been accepted. The subsequent selections had been
made in view of the fact that Seward was to fill this position. On
Saturday, March 2d, while only a few hours remained before the
inaugural, Seward suddenly withdrew his promised acceptance. This
utterly upset the balancings on which Lincoln had so carefully worked
for the last four months, and was fitted to cause consternation.
Lincoln's comment was: "I can't afford to have Seward take the first
trick." So he sent him an urgent personal note on the morning of March
4th, requesting him to withdraw this refusal. Seward acceded to this
and the matter was arranged satisfactorily.
The morning of the day of the inauguration was clear, mild, beautiful.
The military display gave a bright and showy appearance to the scene.
General Scott had used the utmost care to have the arrangements for the
defense of the President perfect. There were guards about the carriage,
guards about the Capitol, a flying battery upon a commanding hill.
Besides this, sharpshooters were posted on the roofs of the houses
along the route of travel, with injunctions to watch narrowly the
windows opposite and fire upon the first manifestation of disorder. One
cannot resist the temptation to speculate upon the excitement that
would have developed had a mischievous boy set off a large fire-cracker
at a critical moment!
Shortly after twelve o'clock, noon, Buchanan called to escort his
successor to the Capitol. The retiring President and the President-
elect rode side by side through the streets. Reaching the grounds of
the Capitol they found an improvised board tunnel through which they
walked arm in arm to the building. This tunnel had been constructed to
guard against assassination, of which there had recently been many
threats. They passed through the senate chamber and through the
building to the large platform which had been erected at the east
front. The procession was headed by the justices of the Supreme Court
clothed in cap and gown.
The platform was densely packed, but in the number there were four men
of especial interest. When Lincoln had first been nominated for the
senate, at Springfield, June 16, 1858, he made the speech which came to
be known as "the house-divided-against-itself speech." One remarkable
paragraph is here quoted:
"We cannot absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are the
result of preconcert. But when we see a lot of framed timbers,
different portions of which we know have been gotten out at different
times and places and by different workmen--Stephen, Franklin, Roger,
and James, for instance--and when we see these timbers joined together,
and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the
tenons and mortices exactly fitting, and all the lengths and
proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective
places, and not a piece too many or too few--not omitting even
scaffolding--or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the
frame exactly fitted and prepared yet to bring the piece in--in such a
case, we find it impossible not to believe that Stephen and Franklin
and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and
all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first blow
was struck."
The manifest reference here is to the co-workers for the extension of
slavery: namely, Stephen A. Douglas, Franklin Pierce, Roger B. Taney,
and James Buchanan. One of this number, Franklin, had fallen into
welcome oblivion; James had escorted Lincoln to the platform; Stephen
stood immediately behind him, alert to show him any courtesy; and
Roger, as Chief Justice, was about to administer the oath of office. It
was a rare case of poetic justice.
Lincoln was introduced to the vast audience by his former neighbor, E.
D. Baker, at this time senator from Oregon. In one hand Lincoln had his
silk hat, and as he looked about for a place to put it, his old
antagonist, Douglas, took it. To a lady he whispered: "If I can't be
President, I can at least hold the President's hat."
The inaugural address had been submitted confidentially to a few
trusted friends for criticism. The only criticisms of importance were
those of Seward. By these Lincoln was guided but not governed. A
perusal of the documents will show that, while Seward's suggestions
were unquestionably good, Lincoln's finished product was far better.
This is specifically true of the closing paragraph, which has been
widely admired for its great beauty. From the remarkable address we
quote only two passages. In the first he meets the charge that he would
involve the country in war. It is as follows:
"I shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon
me, that the laws of the Union shall be faithfully executed in all the
states. Doing this, which I deem to be only a simple duty on my part, I
shall perfectly perform it, so far as is practicable, unless my
rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the requisition,
or in some authoritative manner direct the contrary. I trust this will
not be regarded as a menace, but only as the declared purpose of the
Union that it will constitutionally defend and maintain itself.
"In doing this, there need be no bloodshed or violence, and there shall
be none unless it is forced upon the national authority. _The power
confided to me will be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property
and places belonging to the government, and collect the duties and
imposts._ But beyond what may be necessary for these objects there
will be no invasion, no using of force against or among the people
anywhere."
Concerning the clause above italicised there was a general
questioning,--Does he mean what he says? In due time they learned that
he meant what he said, and all of it.
The address concluded as follows:
"In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is
the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you.
You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You
have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the government, while I
shall have the most solemn one to 'preserve, protect, and defend' it.
"I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be
enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break, our bonds
of affection. The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battle-
field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over
this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again
touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
The address was listened to closely throughout. Immediately upon its
conclusion the speaker was sworn into office by Chief Justice Taney
whose name is connected with the famous Dred Scott decision. James
Buchanan was now a private citizen and the pioneer rail-splitter was at
the head of the United States.
In all the thousands of people there assembled, there was no one who
listened more intently than Stephen A. Douglas. At the conclusion he
warmly grasped the President hand's, congratulated him upon the
inaugural, and pledged him that he would stand by him and support him
in upholding the Constitution and enforcing the laws. The nobler part
of the nature of the "little giant" came to the surface. The clearness,
the gentleness, the magnanimity, the manliness expressed in this
inaugural address of his old rival, won him over at last, and he
pledged him here his fealty. For a few months, while the storm was
brewing, Douglas was inactive, so that his influence counted on the
side of the hostile party, the party to which he had always belonged.
But when war actually broke out, he hastened to stand by the President,
and right nobly did he redeem his promise which he had given. Had he
lived, there are few men whose influence would have been more weighty
in the cause of the Union. An untimely death cut him off at the
beginning of this patriotic activity. His last public act was to
address to the legislature of Illinois a masterly plea for the support
of the war for the Union. He died in Chicago on the 3d of June, 1861.