Part 15

“Neither he nor the country generally then understood the true facts concerning the dangers to his life. It is now an acknowledged fact that there never was a moment from the day he crossed the Maryland line, up to the time of his assassination, that he was not in danger of death by violence, and that his life was spared until the night of the 14th of April, 1865, only through the ceaseless and watchful care of the guards thrown around him.”

MARKED OUT A FEW WORDS.

President Lincoln was calm and unmoved when England and France were blustering and threatening war. At Lincoln’s instance Secretary of State Seward notified the English Cabinet and the French Emperor that as ours was merely a family quarrel of a strictly private and confidential nature, there was no call for meddling; also that they would have a war on their hands in a very few minutes if they didn’t keep their hands off.

Many of Seward’s notes were couched in decidedly peppery terms, some expressions being so tart that President Lincoln ran his pen through them.

LINCOLN SILENCES SEWARD.

General Farnsworth told the writer nearly twenty years ago that, being in the War Office one day, Secretary Stanton told him that at the last Cabinet meeting he had learned a lesson he should never forget, and thought he had obtained an insight into Mr. Lincoln’s wonderful power over the masses. The Secretary said a Cabinet meeting was called to consider our relations with England in regard to the Mason-Slidell affair. One after another of the Cabinet presented his views, and Mr. Seward read an elaborate diplomatic dispatch, which he had prepared.

Finally Mr. Lincoln read what he termed “a few brief remarks upon the subject,” and asked the opinions of his auditors. They unanimously agreed that our side of the question needed no more argument than was contained in the President’s “few brief remarks.”

Mr. Seward said he would be glad to adopt the remarks, and, giving them more of the phraseology usual in diplomatic circles, send them to Lord Palmerston, the British premier.

“Then,” said Secretary Stanton, “came the demonstration. The President, half wheeling in his seat, threw one leg over the chair-arm, and, holding the letter in his hand, said, ‘Seward, do you suppose Palmerston will understand our position from that letter, just as it is?’

“‘Certainly, Mr. President.’

“‘Do you suppose the London Times will?’

“‘Certainly.’

“‘Do you suppose the average Englishman of affairs will?’

“‘Certainly; it cannot be mistaken in England.’

“‘Do you suppose that a hackman out on his box (pointing to the street) will understand it?’

“‘Very readily, Mr. President.’

“‘Very well, Seward, I guess we’ll let her slide just as she is.’

“And the letter did ‘slide,’ and settled the whole business in a manner that was effective.”

BROUGHT THE HUSBAND UP.

One morning President Lincoln asked Major Eckert, on duty at the White House, “Who is that woman crying out in the hall? What is the matter with her?”

Eckert said it was a woman who had come a long distance expecting to go down to the army to see her husband. An order had gone out a short time before to allow no women in the army, except in special cases.

Mr. Lincoln sat moodily for a moment after hearing this story, and suddenly looking up, said, “Let’s send her down. You write the order, Major.”

Major Eckert hesitated a moment, and replied, “Would it not be better for Colonel Hardie to write the order?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Lincoln, “that is better; let Hardie write it.”

The major went out, and soon returned, saying, “Mr. President, would it not be better in this case to let the woman’s husband come to Washington?”

Mr. Lincoln’s face lighted up with pleasure. “Yes, yes,” was the President’s answer in a relieved tone; “that’s the best way; bring him up.”

The order was written, and the man was sent to Washington.

NO WAR WITHOUT BLOOD-LETTING.

“You can’t carry on war without blood-letting,” said Lincoln one day.

The President, although almost feminine in his kind-heartedness, knew not only this, but also that large bodies of soldiers in camp were at the mercy of diseases of every sort, the result being a heavy casualty list.

Of the (estimated) half-million men of the Union armies who gave up their lives in the War of the Rebellion--1861-65--fully seventy-five per cent died of disease. The soldiers killed upon the field of battle constituted a comparatively small proportion of the casualties.

LINCOLN’S TWO DIFFICULTIES.

London “Punch” caricatured President Lincoln in every possible way, holding him and the Union cause up to the ridicule of the world so far as it could. On August 23rd, 1862, its cartoon entitled “Lincoln’s Two Difficulties” had the text underneath: LINCOLN: “What? No money! No men!” “Punch” desired to create the impression that the Washington Government was in a bad way, lacking both money and men for the purpose of putting down the Rebellion; that the United States Treasury was bankrupt, and the people of the North so devoid of patriotism that they would not send men for the army to assist in destroying the Confederacy. The truth is, that when this cartoon was printed the North had five hundred thousand men in the field, and, before the War closed, had provided fully two million and a half troops. The report of the Secretary of the Treasury which showed the financial affairs and situation of the United States up to July, 1862. The receipts of the National Government for the year ending June 30th, 1862, were $10,000,000 in excess of the expenditures, although the War was costing the country $2,000,000 per day; the credit of the United States was good, and business matters were in a satisfactory state. The Navy, by August 23rd, 1862, had received eighteen thousand additional men, and was in fine shape; the people of the North stood ready to supply anything the Government needed, so that, all things taken together, the “Punch” cartoon was not exactly true, as the facts and figures abundantly proved.

WHITE ELEPHANT ON HIS HANDS.

An old and intimate friend from Springfield called on President Lincoln and found him much depressed.

The President was reclining on a sofa, but rising suddenly he said to his friend:

“You know better than any man living that from my boyhood up my ambition was to be President. I am President of one part of this divided country at least; but look at me! Oh, I wish I had never been born!

“I’ve a white elephant on my hands--one hard to manage. With a fire in my front and rear to contend with, the jealousies of the military commanders, and not receiving that cordial co-operative support from Congress that could reasonably be expected with an active and formidable enemy in the field threatening the very life-blood of the Government, my position is anything but a bed of roses.”

WHEN LINCOLN AND GRANT CLASHED.

Ward Lamon, one of President Lincoln’s law partners, and his most intimate friend in Washington, has this to relate:

“I am not aware that there was ever a serious discord or misunderstanding between Mr. Lincoln and General Grant, except on a single occasion. From the commencement of the struggle, Lincoln’s policy was to break the backbone of the Confederacy by depriving it of its principal means of subsistence.

“Cotton was its vital aliment; deprive it of this, and the rebellion must necessarily collapse. The Hon. Elihu B. Washburne from the outset was opposed to any contraband traffic with the Confederates.

“Lincoln had given permits and passes through the lines to two persons--Mr. Joseph Mattox of Maryland and General Singleton of Illinois--to enable them to bring cotton and other Southern products from Virginia. Washburne heard of it, called immediately on Mr. Lincoln, and, after remonstrating with him on the impropriety of such a demarche, threatened to have General Grant countermand the permits if they were not revoked.

“Naturally, both became excited. Lincoln declared that he did not believe General Grant would take upon himself the responsibility of such an act. ‘I will show you, sir; I will show you whether Grant will do it or not,’ responded Mr. Washburne, as he abruptly withdrew.

“By the next boat, subsequent to this interview, the Congressman left Washington for the headquarters of General Grant. He returned shortly afterward to the city, and so likewise did Mattox and Singleton. Grant had countermanded the permits.

“Under all the circumstances, it was, naturally, a source of exultation to Mr. Washburne and his friends, and of corresponding surprise and mortification to the President. The latter, however, said nothing further than this:

“‘I wonder when General Grant changed his mind on this subject? He was the first man, after the commencement of this War, to grant a permit for the passage of cotton through the lines, and that to his own father.’

“The President, however, never showed any resentment toward General Grant.

“In referring afterwards to the subject, the President said: ‘It made me feel my insignificance keenly at the moment; but if my friends Washburne, Henry Wilson and others derive pleasure from so unworthy a victory over me, I leave them to its full enjoyment.’

“This ripple on the otherwise unruffled current of their intercourse did not disturb the personal relations between Lincoln and Grant; but there was little cordiality between the President and Messrs. Washburne and Wilson afterwards.”

WON JAMES GORDON BENNETT’S SUPPORT.

The story as to how President Lincoln won the support of James Gordon Bennett, Sr., founder of the New York Herald, is a most interesting one. It was one of Lincoln’s shrewdest political acts, and was brought about by the tender, in an autograph letter, of the French Mission to Bennett.

The New York Times was the only paper in the metropolis which supported him heartily, and President Lincoln knew how important it was to have the support of the Herald. He therefore, according to the way Colonel McClure tells it, carefully studied how to bring its editor into close touch with himself.

The outlook for Lincoln’s re-election was not promising. Bennett had strongly advocated the nomination of General McClellan by the Democrats, and that was ominous of hostility to Lincoln; and when McClellan was nominated he was accepted on all sides as a most formidable candidate.

It was in this emergency that Lincoln’s political sagacity served him sufficiently to win the Herald to his cause, and it was done by the confidential tender of the French Mission. Bennett did not break over to Lincoln at once, but he went by gradual approaches.

His first step was to declare in favor of an entirely new candidate, which was an utter impossibility. He opened a “leader” in the Herald on the subject in this way: “Lincoln has proved a failure; McClellan has proved a failure; Fremont has proved a failure; let us have a new candidate.”

Lincoln, McClellan and Fremont were then all in the field as nominated candidates, and the Fremont defection was a serious threat to Lincoln. Of course, neither Lincoln nor McClellan declined, and the Herald, failing to get the new man it knew to be an impossibility, squarely advocated Lincoln’s re-election.

Without consulting any one, and without any public announcement: whatever, Lincoln wrote to Bennett, asking him to accept the mission to France. The offer was declined. Bennett valued the offer very much more than the office, and from that day until the day of the President’s death he was one of Lincoln’s most appreciative friends and hearty supporters on his own independent line.

STOOD BY THE “SILENT MAN.”

Once, in reply to a delegation, which visited the White House, the members of which were unusually vociferous in their demands that the Silent Man (as General Grant was called) should be relieved from duty, the President remarked:

“What I want and what the people want is generals who will fight battles and win victories.

“Grant has done this, and I propose to stand by him.”

This declaration found its way into the newspapers, and Lincoln was upheld by the people of the North, who, also, wanted “generals who will fight battles and win victories.”

A VERY BRAINY NUBBIN.

President Lincoln and Secretary of State Seward met Alexander H. Stephens, Vice-President of the Confederacy, on February 2nd, 1865, on the River Queen, at Fortress Monroe. Stephens was enveloped in overcoats and shawls, and had the appearance of a fair-sized man. He began to take off one wrapping after another, until the small, shriveled old man stood before them.

Lincoln quietly said to Seward: “This is the largest shucking for so small a nubbin that I ever saw.”

President Lincoln had a friendly conference, but presented his ultimatum that the one and only condition of peace was that Confederates “must cease their resistance.”

SENT TO HIS “FRIENDS.”

During the Civil War, Clement L. Vallandigham, of Ohio, had shown himself, in the National House of Representatives and elsewhere, one of the bitterest and most outspoken of all the men of that class which insisted that “the war was a failure.” He declared that it was the design of “those in power to establish a despotism,” and that they had “no intention of restoring the Union.” He denounced the conscription which had been ordered, and declared that men who submitted to be drafted into the army were “unworthy to be called free men.” He spoke of the President as “King Lincoln.”

Such utterances at this time, when the Government was exerting itself to the utmost to recruit the armies, were dangerous, and Vallandigham was arrested, tried by court-martial at Cincinnati, and sentenced to be placed in confinement during the war.

General Burnside, in command at Cincinnati, approved the sentence, and ordered that he be sent to Fort Warren, in Boston Harbor; but the President ordered that he be sent “beyond our lines into those of his friends.” He was therefore escorted to the Confederate lines in Tennessee, thence going to Richmond. He did not meet with a very cordial reception there, and finally sought refuge in Canada.

Vallandigham died in a most peculiar way some years after the close of the War, and it was thought by many that his death was the result of premeditation upon his part.

GO DOWN WITH COLORS FLYING.

In August, 1864, the President called for five hundred thousand more men. The country was much depressed. The Confederates had, in comparatively small force, only a short time before, been to the very gates of Washington, and returned almost unharmed.

The Presidential election was impending. Many thought another call for men at such a time would insure, if not destroy, Mr. Lincoln’s chances for re-election. A friend said as much to him one day, after the President had told him of his purpose to make such a call.

“As to my re-election,” replied Mr. Lincoln, “it matters not. We must have the men. If I go down, I intend to go, like the Cumberland, with my colors flying!”

ALL WERE TRAGEDIES.

The cartoon reproduced below was published in “Harper’s Weekly” on January 31st, 1863, the explanatory text, underneath, reading in this way:

MANAGER LINCOLN: “Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to say that the tragedy entitled ‘The Army of the Potomac’ has been withdrawn on account of quarrels among the leading performers, and I have substituted three new and striking farces, or burlesques, one, entitled ‘The Repulse of Vicksburg,’ by the well-known favorite, E. M. Stanton, Esq., and the others, ‘The Loss of the Harriet Lane,’ and ‘The Exploits of the Alabama’--a very sweet thing in farces, I assure you--by the veteran composer, Gideon Welles. (Unbounded applause by the Copperheads).”

In July, after this cartoon appeared, the Army of the Potomac defeated Lee at Gettysburg, and sounded the death-knell of the Confederacy; General Hooker, with his corps from this Army opened the Tennessee River, thus affording some relief to the Union troops in Chattanooga; Hooker’s men also captured Lookout Mountain, and assisted in taking Missionary Ridge.

General Grant converted the farce “The Repulse of Vicksburg” into a tragedy for the Copperheads, taking that stronghold on July 4th, and Captain Winslow, with the Union man-of-war Kearsarge, meeting the Confederate privateer Alabama, off the coast of France, near Cherbourg, fought the famous ship to a finish and sunk her. Thus the tragedy of “The Army of the Potomac” was given after all, and Playwright Stanton and Composer Welles were vindicated, their compositions having been received by the public with great favor.

“HE’S THE BEST OF US.”

Secretary of State Seward did not appreciate President Lincoln’s ability until he had been associated with him for quite a time, but he was awakened to a full realization of the greatness of the Chief Executive “all of a sudden.”

Having submitted “Some Thoughts for the President’s Consideration”--a lengthy paper intended as an outline of the policy, both domestic and foreign, the Administration should pursue--he was not more surprised at the magnanimity and kindness of President Lincoln’s reply than the thorough mastery of the subject displayed by the President.

A few months later, when the Secretary had begun to understand Mr. Lincoln, he was quick and generous to acknowledge his power.

“Executive force and vigor are rare qualities,” he wrote to Mrs. Seward. “The President is the best of us.”

HOW LINCOLN “COMPOSED.”

Superintendent Chandler, of the Telegraph Office in the War Department, once told how President Lincoln wrote telegrams. Said he:

“Mr. Lincoln frequently wrote telegrams in my office. His method of composition was slow and laborious. It was evident that he thought out what he was going to say before he touched his pen to the paper. He would sit looking out of the window, his left elbow on the table, his hand scratching his temple, his lips moving, and frequently he spoke the sentence aloud or in a half whisper.

“After he was satisfied that he had the proper expression, he would write it out. If one examines the originals of Mr. Lincoln’s telegrams and letters, he will find very few erasures and very little interlining. This was because he had them definitely in his mind before writing them.

“In this he was the exact opposite of Mr. Stanton, who wrote with feverish haste, often scratching out words, and interlining frequently. Sometimes he would seize a sheet which he had filled, and impatiently tear it into pieces.”

HAMLIN MIGHT DO IT.

Several United States Senators urged President Lincoln to muster Southern slaves into the Union Army. Lincoln replied:

“Gentlemen, I have put thousands of muskets into the hands of loyal citizens of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Western North Carolina. They have said they could defend themselves, if they had guns. I have given them the guns. Now, these men do not believe in mustering-in the negro. If I do it, these thousands of muskets will be turned against us. We should lose more than we should gain.”

Being still further urged, President Lincoln gave them this answer:

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I can’t do it. I can’t see it as you do. You may be right, and I may be wrong; but I’ll tell you what I can do; I can resign in favor of Mr. Hamlin. Perhaps Mr. Hamlin could do it.”

The matter ended there, for the time being.

THE GUN SHOT BETTER.

The President took a lively interest in all new firearm improvements and inventions, and it sometimes happened that, when an inventor could get nobody else in the Government to listen to him, the President would personally test his gun. A former clerk in the Navy Department tells an incident illustrative.

He had stayed late one night at his desk, when he heard some one striding up and down the hall muttering: “I do wonder if they have gone already and left the building all alone.” Looking out, the clerk was surprised to see the President.

“Good evening,” said Mr. Lincoln. “I was just looking for that man who goes shooting with me sometimes.”

The clerk knew Mr. Lincoln referred to a certain messenger of the Ordnance Department who had been accustomed to going with him to test weapons, but as this man had gone home, the clerk offered his services. Together they went to the lawn south of the White House, where Mr. Lincoln fixed up a target cut from a sheet of white Congressional notepaper.

“Then pacing off a distance of about eighty or a hundred feet,” writes the clerk, “he raised the rifle to a level, took a quick aim, and drove the round of seven shots in quick succession, the bullets shooting all around the target like a Gatling gun and one striking near the center.

“‘I believe I can make this gun shoot better,’ said Mr. Lincoln, after we had looked at the result of the first fire. With this he took from his vest pocket a small wooden sight which he had whittled from a pine stick, and adjusted it over the sight of the carbine. He then shot two rounds, and of the fourteen bullets nearly a dozen hit the paper!”

LENIENT WITH McCLELLAN.

General McClellan, aside from his lack of aggressiveness, fretted the President greatly with his complaints about military matters, his obtrusive criticism regarding political matters, and especially at his insulting declaration to the Secretary of War, dated June 28th, 1862, just after his retreat to the James River.

General Halleck was made Commander-in-Chief of the Union forces in July, 1862, and September 1st McClellan was called to Washington. The day before he had written his wife that “as a matter of self-respect, I cannot go there.” President Lincoln and General Halleck called at McClellan’s house, and the President said: “As a favor to me, I wish you would take command of the fortifications of Washington and all the troops for the defense of the capital.”

Lincoln thought highly of McClellan’s ability as an organizer and his strength in defense, yet any other President would have had him court-martialed for using this language, which appeared in McClellan’s letter of June 28th:

“If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no thanks to you or to any other person in Washington. You have done your best to sacrifice this army.”

This letter, although addressed to the Secretary of War, distinctly embraced the President in the grave charge of conspiracy to defeat McClellan’s army and sacrifice thousands of the lives of his soldiers.

DIDN’T WANT A MILITARY REPUTATION.

Lincoln was averse to being put up as a military hero.

When General Cass was a candidate for the Presidency his friends sought to endow him with a military reputation.

Lincoln, at that time a representative in Congress, delivered a speech before the House, which, in its allusion to Mr. Cass, was exquisitely sarcastic and irresistibly humorous:

“By the way, Mr. Speaker,” said Lincoln, “do you know I am a military hero?

“Yes, sir, in the days of the Black Hawk War, I fought, bled, and came away.

“Speaking of General Cass’s career reminds me of my own.

“I was not at Stillman’s defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass to Hull’s surrender; and like him I saw the place very soon afterwards.

“It is quite certain I did not break my sword, for I had none to break, but I bent my musket pretty badly on one occasion.

“If General Cass went in advance of me picking whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charging upon the wild onion.

“If he saw any live, fighting Indians, it was more than I did, but I had a good many bloody struggles with the mosquitoes, and although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can truly say that I was often very hungry.”