"No," said Lincoln, "I will never advocate such an extremity; but it will be well for you folks if you don"t force such a necessity on the country."
Lincoln then apologized for his rudeness in jostling the muscular Democracy of his friend, and they separated, each going his own way, little thinking then that what they had just said in badinage would be so soon realized in such terrible consequences to the country.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letter page 1]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letter page 2]
The following letter shows Lincoln"s view of the political situation at that time:--
SPRINGFIELD, June 11, 1858.
W. H. LAMON, Esq.:
MY DEAR SIR,--Yours of the 9th written at Joliet is just received. Two or three days ago I learned that McLean had appointed delegates in favor of Lovejoy, and thenceforward I have considered his renomination a fixed fact. My _opinion_--if my opinion is of any consequence in this case, in which it is no business of mine to interfere--remains unchanged, that running an independent candidate against Lovejoy will not do; that it will result in nothing but disaster all round. In the first place, whoever so runs will be beaten and will be spotted for life; in the second place, while the race is in progress, he will be under the strongest temptation to trade with the Democrats, and to favor the election of certain of their friends to the Legislature; thirdly, I shall be held responsible for it, and Republican members of the Legislature, who are partial to Lovejoy, will for that purpose oppose us; and, lastly, it will in the end lose us the District altogether. There is no safe way but a convention; and if in that convention, upon a common platform which all are willing to stand upon, one who has been known as an Abolitionist, but who is now occupying none but common ground, can get the majority of the votes to which _all_ look for an election, there is no safe way but to submit.
As to the inclination of some Republicans to favor Douglas, that is one of the chances I have to run, and which I intend to run with patience.
I write in the court room. Court has opened, and I must close.
Yours as ever,
(Signed) A. LINCOLN.
During this senatorial campaign in 1858, Hon. James G. Blaine predicted in a letter, which was extensively published, that Douglas would beat Lincoln for the United States Senate, but that Lincoln would beat Douglas for President in 1860. Mr. Lincoln cut out the paragraph of the letter containing this prediction, and placed it in his pocket-book, where I have no doubt it was found after his death, for only a very short time before that event I saw it in his possession.[3]
[3] Page 27, line 19, after the word "possession."
Mr. Lincoln felt deeply the responsibility of his great trust; and he felt still more keenly the supposed impossibility of administering the government for the sole benefit of an organization which had no existence in one-half of the Union. He was therefore willing, not only to appoint Democrats to office, but to appoint them to the very highest offices within his gift. At this time he thought very highly of Mr.
Stephens of Georgia, and would gladly have taken him into his cabinet but for the fear that Georgia might secede, and take Mr. Stephens along with her. He commissioned Thurlow Weed to place a seat in the Cabinet at the disposal of Mr. Gilmore of North Carolina; but Mr. Gilmore, finding that his state was likely to secede, was reluctantly compelled to decline it. I had thought that Mr. Lincoln had authorized his friend Mr.
Speed to offer the Treasury Department to Mr. Guthrie of Kentucky. Mr.
Speed writes of this incident in a letter to me dated June 24, 1872.
In one instance I find a palpable mistake. It is in regard to a tender to Mr. Guthrie through me of a position in his Cabinet. The history of that transaction was about this: I met Mr. Lincoln by appointment in Chicago after his election but before he had gone to Washington. He seemed very anxious to avoid bloodshed and said that he would do almost anything saving the sacrifice of personal honor and the dignity of the position to which he had been elevated to avoid war.
He asked about Mr. Guthrie and spoke of him as a suitable man for Secretary of War. He asked very particularly as to his strength with the people and if I knew him well enough to say what would be his course in the event of war. I frankly gave my opinion as to what I thought would be his course--which is not necessary here to repeat. He requested me to see Mr. Guthrie. But by all means to be guarded and not to give any man the advantage of the tender of a Cabinet appointment to be declined by an insulting letter. I did see Mr. Guthrie and never tendered him any office for I was not authorized to do so. This is a very different thing from being authorized to _tender_ an appointment.
Yours truly J. F. SPEED.
When Mr. Lincoln was asked during conferences incident to making up his cabinet if it was just or wise to concede so many seats to the Democratic element of the Republican party he replied that as a Whig he thought he could afford to be liberal to a section of the Republican party without whose votes he could not have been elected.
After Mr. Lincoln"s election he was sorely beset by rival claimants for the spoils of office in his own State, and distracted by jealousies among his own party adherents. The State was divided so far as the Republican party was concerned into three cliques or factions. The Chicago faction was headed by Norman B. Judd and Ebenezer Peck, the Bloomington faction by Judge David Davis, Leonard Swett, and others, and that of Springfield by J. K. Dubois, O. M. Hatch, William Butler, and others; and however anxious Mr. Lincoln might be to honor his State by a Cabinet appointment, he was powerless to do so without incurring the hostility of the factions from which he could not make a selection.
Harmony was, however, in a large measure preserved among the Republican politicians by sending Judd as Minister to Prussia, and by antic.i.p.ating a place on the Supreme Bench for Judge Davis. Swett wanted nothing, and middle Illinois was satisfied. Springfield controlled the lion"s share of State patronage, and satisfaction was given all round as far as circ.u.mstances would allow.
Between the time of Mr. Lincoln"s election and the 11th of February, 1861, he spent his time in a room in the State House which was a.s.signed to him as an office. Young Mr. Nicolay, a very clever and competent clerk, was lent to him by the Secretary of State to do his writing.
During this time he was overrun with visitors from all quarters of the country,--some to a.s.sist in forming his Cabinet, some to direct how patronage should be distributed, others to beg for or demand personal advancement. So painstaking was he, that every one of the many thousand letters which poured in upon him was read and promptly answered. The burden of the new and overwhelming labor came near prostrating him with serious illness.
Some days before his departure for Washington, he wrote to me at Bloomington that he desired to see me at once. I went to Springfield, and Mr. Lincoln said to me: "Hill, on the 11th I go to Washington, and I want you to go along with me. Our friends have already asked me to send you as Consul to Paris. You know I would cheerfully give you anything for which our friends may ask or which you may desire, but it looks as if we might have war. In that case I want you with me. In fact, I must have you. So get yourself ready and come along. It will be handy to have you around. If there is to be a fight, I want you to help me to do my share of it, as you have done in times past. You must go, and go to stay."
CHAPTER II.
JOURNEY FROM SPRINGFIELD TO WASHINGTON.
On the 11th of February, 1861, the arrangements for Mr. Lincoln"s departure from Springfield were completed. It was intended to occupy the time remaining between that date and the 4th of March with a grand tour from State to State and city to city. Mr. Wood, "recommended by Senator Seward," was the chief manager. He provided special trains, to be preceded by pilot engines all the way through.
It was a gloomy day: heavy clouds floated overhead, and a cold rain was falling. Long before eight o"clock, a great ma.s.s of people had collected at the station of the Great Western Railway to witness the event of the day. At precisely five minutes before eight, Mr. Lincoln, preceded by Mr. Wood, emerged from a private room in the station, and pa.s.sed slowly to the car, the people falling back respectfully on either side, and as many as possible shaking his hand. Having reached the train he ascended the rear platform, and, facing the throng which had closed around him, drew himself up to his full height, removed his hat, and stood for several seconds in profound silence. His eye roved sadly over that sea of upturned faces; and he thought he read in them again the sympathy and friendship which he had often tried, and which he never needed more than he did then. There was an unusual quiver on his lip, and a still more unusual tear on his furrowed cheek. His solemn manner, his long silence, were as full of melancholy eloquence as any words he could have uttered. Of what was he thinking? Of the mighty changes which had lifted him from the lowest to the highest estate in the nation; of the weary road which had brought him to this lofty summit; of his poverty-stricken boyhood; of his poor mother lying beneath the tangled underbrush in a distant forest? Whatever the particular character of his thoughts, it is evident that they were retrospective and painful. To those who were anxiously waiting to catch words upon which the fate of the nation might hang, it seemed long until he had mastered his feelings sufficiently to speak. At length he began in a husky tone of voice, and slowly and impressively delivered his farewell to his neighbors. Imitating his example, every man in the crowd stood with his head uncovered in the fast-falling rain.
"Friends, no one who has never been placed in a like position can understand my feelings at this hour, nor the oppressive sadness I feel at this parting. For more than a quarter of a century I have lived among you, and during all that time I have received nothing but kindness at your hands. Here I have lived from my youth, until now I am an old man. Here the most sacred ties of earth were a.s.sumed; here all my children were born; and here one of them lies buried. To you, dear friends, I owe all that I have, all that I am.
"_All the strange, checkered past seems to crowd now upon my mind._" To-day I leave you. I go to a.s.sume a task more difficult than that which devolved upon Washington. Unless the great G.o.d, who a.s.sisted him, shall be with me and aid me, I must fail; but if the same omniscient mind and almighty arm that directed and protected him shall guide and support me, I shall not fail,--I shall succeed.
Let us all pray that the G.o.d of our fathers may not forsake us now.
To Him I commend you all. Permit me to ask that, with equal security and faith, you will invoke His wisdom and guidance for me.
With these few words I must leave you,--for how long I know not.
Friends, one and all, I must now bid you an affectionate farewell."
Few more impressive utterances were ever made by any one than found expression in this simple speech. This farewell meant more to him than to his hearers. To them it meant, "Good-by for the present,"--a commendation of his dearest friends to the watchful care of G.o.d until his return. To him it foreboded eternity ere their reunion,--his last solemn benediction until the resurrection. He never believed he would return to the hallowed scenes of his adopted State, to his friends and his home. He had felt for many years that he would suffer a violent death, and at different times expressed his apprehensions before and after his election as President.
The first night after our departure from Springfield was spent in Indianapolis. Governor Yates, the Hon. O. H. Browning, Jesse K. Dubois, O. M. Hatch, Josiah Allen, of Indiana, and others, after taking leave of Mr. Lincoln to return to their respective homes, took me into a room, locked the door, and proceeded in the most solemn and impressive manner to instruct me as to my duties as the special guardian of Mr. Lincoln"s person during the rest of his journey to Washington. The lesson was concluded by Uncle Jesse, as Mr. Dubois was commonly called, who said: "Now, Lamon, we have regarded you as the Tom Hyer of Illinois, with Morrissey attachment. We intrust the sacred life of Mr. Lincoln to your keeping; and if you don"t protect it, never return to Illinois, for we will murder you on sight."
With this amiable threat, delivered in a jocular tone, but with a feeling of deep, ill-disguised alarm for the safety of the President-elect, in which they all shared, the door was unlocked and they took their leave. If I had been remiss in my duty toward Mr.
Lincoln during that memorable journey, I have no doubt those st.u.r.dy men would have made good some part of their threat.
The journey from Springfield to Philadelphia was not characterized by any scene unusual or more eventful than what was ordinary on such occasions, notwithstanding that so much has been written about thrilling dangers, all of which were imagined but not encountered. Mr. Lincoln"s speeches were the all-absorbing events of the hour. The people everywhere were eager to hear a forecast of his policy, and he was as determined to keep silence on that subject until it was made manifest in his Inaugural Address. After having been _en route_ a day or two, he told me that he had done much hard work in his life, but to make speeches day after day, with the object of speaking and saying nothing, was the hardest work he ever had done. "I wish," said he, "that this thing were through with, and I could find peace and quiet somewhere."
On arriving at Albany, N. Y., Mr. Thurlow Weed asked me where Mr.
Lincoln was going to be domiciled in Washington until he was inaugurated. I told him Messrs. Trumbull and Washburne had provided quarters for him; that they had rented a house on Thirteenth or Fourteenth Street, N. W., for his reception, and that Mr. Lincoln had submitted the matter to me, asking me to confer with Capt. John Pope, one of our party who was an old friend of his, and to make just such arrangements as I thought best for his quarters in Washington. Mr. Weed said, "It will never do to allow him to go to a private house to be under the influence of State control. He is now public property, and ought to be where he can be reached by the people until he is inaugurated." We then agreed that Willard"s Hotel would be the best place, and the following letter was written to Mr. Willard to arrange for the reception of the Presidential party:--
ALBANY, Feb. 19, 1861.
DEAR WILLARD,--Mr. Lincoln will be your guest.
In arranging his apartments, please reserve nearest him apartments for two of his friends, Judge Davis and Mr. Lamon.
Truly yours,
(Signed) THURLOW WEED.
Mrs. Lincoln and one son accompany him.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Hand written letter above]
This arrangement was reported to Mr. Lincoln, who said: "I fear it will give mortal offense to our friends, but I think the arrangement a good one. I can readily see that many other well meant plans will "gang aglee," but I am sorry. The truth is, I suppose I am now public property; and a public inn is the place where people can have access to me."