The accounts of the earliest Cabinet meetings, as given by Secretary
Welles, who was nearly always present, are full of interest. "Cabinet
meetings, which at that exciting period should have been daily, were
infrequent, irregular, and without system," says Mr. Welles. "The
Secretary of State notified his associates when the President desired a
meeting of the heads of Departments. It seemed unadvisable to the
Premier--as he liked to be called and considered--that the members
should meet often, and they did not. Consequently there was very little
concerted action. At the earlier meetings there was little or no
formality; the Cabinet meetings were a sort of privy council or
gathering of equals, much like a Senatorial caucus, where there was no
recognized leader and the Secretary of State put himself in advance of
the President. No seats were assigned or regularly taken. The Secretary
of State was invariably present some little time before the Cabinet
assembled, and from his former position as the chief executive of the
largest State in the Union as well as from his recent place as a
Senator, and from his admitted experience and familiarity with affairs,
assumed, and was allowed, as was proper, to take the lead in
consultations and also to give tone and direction to the manner and mode
of proceedings. The President, if he did not actually wish, readily
acquiesced in, this. Mr. Lincoln, having never had experience in
administering the Government, State or National, deferred to the
suggestions and course of those who had. Mr. Seward was not slow in
taking upon himself to prescribe action and to do most of the talking,
without much regard to the modest chief, but often to the disgust of his
associates, particularly Mr. Bates, who was himself always courteous and
respectful, and to the annoyance of Mr. Chase, who had had, like Mr.
Seward, experience as a chief magistrate. Discussions were desultory and
without order or system; but in the summing-up and conclusions the
President, who was a patient listener and learner, concentrated results,
and often determined questions adverse to the Secretary of State,
regarding him and his opinions, as he did those of his other advisers,
for what they were worth and generally no more."
It was perhaps natural, in a country so long free from wars as ours had
been, that the Civil War should be regarded as a sort of political
affair to be directed from Washington rather than by commanders in the
field. For the first year or so the feeling was quite general that
military affairs should be directed by Congress, acting through its
Committee on the Conduct of the War, and by the Secretary of War, who
complained bitterly that he was not allowed to assume control of
military movements and that his plans were thwarted by McClellan (whom
he especially hated). The President himself did not escape this
condemnation. The feeling at this time is expressed in a sentence in
Stanton's complaint, reflected through Chase, that "the President takes
counsel of none but army officers in army matters." Chase declared to
Welles, according to the latter, that the Treasury as well as other
departments "ought to be informed of the particulars of every movement."
The generals engaged in planning the campaigns and fighting the battles
of the war, and their commander-in-chief the President, could hardly
fail to find their task an uphill one when ideas so naive and fatuous as
these prevailed. It is no wonder that General Grant recorded in his
Memoirs the opinion that the great difficulty with the Army of the
Potomac during the first year of the war was its proximity to
Washington; that the conditions made success practically impossible; and
that neither he, nor General Sherman, nor any officer known to him,
could have succeeded in General McClellan's place, under the conditions
that then existed. Gradually, and by slow and often painful experience,
a clearer conception of the meaning and methods of war prevailed. In
this, as in so many things, Lincoln's insight was first and surest. By
patience, tact, shrewdness, firmness, and diplomatic skill, he held the
Cabinet together and stimulated its members to their best efforts for
the common cause.
But the personal frictions and dissensions in the Cabinet, and the more
or less meddlesome attitude of leaders in the Senate and the House, at
times sorely tried the strength and patience of the harassed President,
compelling him to act the part of peacemaker, and sometimes of judge and
arbiter as well. At one time Secretary Stanton threatened to resign; and
Chase declared that in that case he should go with him. Stanton and
Welles were in frequent antagonism, Welles stating in his Diary that
Stanton assumed, or tried to assume, that the Navy should be subject to
the direction of the War Department. Seward was "meddlesome" toward
other departments; "runs to the President two or three times a day;
wants to be Premier," etc., says Welles. "Between Seward and Chase there
was perpetual rivalry and mutual but courtly distrust; they entered the
Cabinet as rivals, and in cold courtesy so continued." The most serious
of these Cabinet embroglios occurred late in December of 1862, while
Lincoln was well-nigh overwhelmed by Burnside's dreadful repulse at
Fredericksburg. The gist of the affair, as given by Mr. Welles, is that
the opposition to Seward in the Senate grew to such a point that a
committee was appointed to wait on the President and request Seward's
removal from the office of Secretary of State. The President, Mr. Welles
tells us, was "shocked and grieved" at this demonstration. He asked all
the members of his Cabinet to meet the Senate committee with him. All
the members of the Cabinet were present except Seward, who had already
sent the President his resignation. The meeting was attended also by
Senators Collamer, Fessenden, Harris, Trumbull, Grimes, Howard, Sumner,
and Pomeroy. The President, says Mr. Welles, opened the subject for
which the meeting was called, taking a conciliatory tone toward the
Senators, and requesting from each in turn an expression of opinion as
to the wisdom of dropping Seward from the Cabinet. Most of them were
strongly of the opinion that Seward ought to go. The President presented
his own views, which were, in effect, that it would be a mistake to let
Seward leave the Cabinet at that particular time. "He managed his own
case," says Mr. Welles, "speaking freely, and showing great tact,
shrewdness, and ability." The meeting continued until nearly midnight,
and the matter was left still in the President's hands. The next morning
Mr. Welles called early at the White House and found Lincoln practically
decided not to accept Seward's resignation, saying that it would never
do to take the course prescribed by the Senators; that "the Government
would cave in; it could not stand--would not hold water; the bottom
would be out," etc. He requested Welles to go at once to Seward and ask
him not to press his resignation. Lincoln's intuitional mind seemed at
once to connect Secretary Chase with the attack on Seward. Before Welles
left the room, the President rang a bell and directed that a message be
sent to Chase requesting him to come at once to the White House. When
Welles returned from his interview with Seward, who readily promised to
withdraw his resignation at the President's request, he found both Chase
and Seward waiting for the President. The latter soon came in, and his
first words were to ask Welles if he "had seen the man," to which Welles
answered that he had, and that he assented to what had been asked of
him. The dramatic scene that followed is thus described by Mr. Welles in
his Diary: "The President turned to Chase and said, 'I sent for you, for
this matter is giving me great trouble.' Chase said he had been
painfully affected by the meeting last evening, which was a total
surprise to him; and, after some not very explicit remarks as to how he
was affected, informed the President he had prepared his resignation of
the office of Secretary of the Treasury. 'Where is it?' said the
President quickly, his eye lighting up in a moment. 'I brought it with
me,' said Chase, taking the paper from his pocket; 'I wrote it this
morning.' 'Let me have it,' said the President, reaching his long arm
and fingers toward Chase, who held on, seemingly reluctant to part with
the letter, which was sealed, and which he apparently hesitated to
surrender. Something further he wished to say; but the President was
eager and did not perceive it, and took and hastily opened the letter.
'This,' said he, looking toward me with a triumphant air, 'cuts the
Gordian Knot. I can now dispose of this subject without difficulty, I
see my way clear.' Chase sat by Stanton, fronting the fire; the
President beside the fire, his face toward them, Stanton nearest him. I
was on the sofa, near the east window. 'Mr. President,' said Stanton,
with solemnity, 'I informed you day before yesterday that I was ready to
tender you my resignation. I wish you, sir, to consider my resignation
at this time in your possession.' 'You may go to your department,' said
the President; 'I don't want yours. This,' holding out Chase's letter,
'is all I want; this relieves me; my way is clear; the trouble is ended.
I will detain neither of you longer.' We all rose to leave," concludes
Mr. Welles. "Chase and myself came downstairs together. He was moody and
taciturn. Someone stopped him on the lower stairs, and I passed on."
A few days later, the President requested both Seward and Chase to
withdraw their resignations and resume their duties. This was done, and
the trouble was ended for the time. Both Secretaries had got their
lessons, and profited by them. By the exercise of tact and patience,
with firmness and decision when required, the President had let it be
known that he was the head and chief of the Administration.
Next to the President, it was not Secretary Seward, the "Premier" as he
wished to be regarded, but the War Secretary, Stanton, who was the
master-mind of the Cabinet. He was the incarnation of energy, the
embodiment of patriotic zeal. With all his faults of temper and
disposition, he was a man of singular fitness for the responsible
position he occupied, and his services to the Government can hardly be
overestimated. He had been a Democrat, a member of Buchanan's Cabinet,
and was, says Dr. Holland, "the first one in that Cabinet to protest
against the downright treason into which it was drifting. He was a man
of indomitable energy, devoted loyalty, and thorough honesty.
Contractors could not manipulate him, traitors could not deceive him.
Impulsive, perhaps, but true; wilful, it is possible, but placable;
impatient, but persistent and efficient,--he became at once one of the
most marked and important of the members of the Cabinet." Lincoln and
Stanton together were emphatically "a strong team."
Stanton was not a member of Lincoln's first Cabinet, but came into it at
the beginning of 1862, in place of Simon Cameron, who had just been
appointed Minister to Russia. A very interesting account of Cameron's
personal relations with Lincoln, the causes that led to his retirement
from the Cabinet, and the appointment of Stanton in his place, is given
by Cameron himself. He had been the choice of the Pennsylvania
delegation for President, at the Chicago Convention in 1860, and it was
largely due to him that Lincoln received the nomination. "After the
election," said Mr. Cameron, "I made a trip to the West at Mr. Lincoln's
request. He had, by letter, tendered me the position of either Secretary
of War or Secretary of the Treasury; but when I went to see him he said
that he had concluded to make Mr. Seward Secretary of State, and he
wanted to give a place to Mr. Chase. 'Salmon P. Chase,' said he, 'is a
very ambitious man.' 'Very well,' said I, 'then the War Department is
the place for him. We are going to have an armed conflict over your
election, and the place for an ambitious man is in the War Department.
There he will have lots of room to make a reputation.' These thoughts of
mine, that we were to have war, disturbed Mr. Lincoln very much, and he
seemed to think I was entirely too certain about it. Finally, when he
came to make up his Cabinet, doubtless remembering what I had said about
the War Department, he appointed me Secretary of War."
"There has been," continues Mr. Cameron, "a great deal of misstatement
as to Mr. Stanton's appointment as my successor. Stanton had been my
attorney from the time I went into the War Department until he took my
place as Secretary. I had hardly made a move in which the legality of
any question could arise. I had taken his advice. I believed in the
vigorous prosecution of the war from the start, while Mr. Seward
believed in dallying and compromising, and Mr. Chase was constantly
agitated about the expenditure of money; therefore it was that I was
careful to have the advice of an able lawyer. When the question of
changing me from the War Department to the Russian mission came up, Mr.
Lincoln said to me, 'Whom shall I appoint in your place?' My prompt
response was, 'Edwin M. Stanton.' 'But,' said he, 'I had thought of
giving it to Holt.' 'Mr. Lincoln,' said I, 'if I am to retire in the
present situation of affairs, it seems but proper that a friend of mine,
or at least a man not unfriendly to me, should be appointed in my place.
If you give Mr. Stanton the position, you will not only accomplish this
object but will please the State of Pennsylvania and also get an
excellent officer.' 'Very well,' said Mr. Lincoln, 'you go and see him,
and if he will accept the place he shall have it.' I left the White
House and started to find Stanton, passing through the Treasury
Department on my way. As I passed Mr. Chase's office, I stepped in and
told him what had occurred between the President and myself. He said,
'Let's send for Stanton; bring him here and talk it over.' 'Very well,'
said I, and a messenger was at once sent. Stanton came immediately, and
I told him of the conference between the President and myself. He agreed
to accept. We walked to the White House, and the matter was settled.
"One of the troubles in the Cabinet which brought about this change was
that I had recommended in my annual report, in the fall of 1861, that
the negroes should be enlisted as soldiers after they left their
masters. This advanced step was regarded by most of the Cabinet with
alarm. Mr. Lincoln thought it would frighten the border States out of
the Union, and Mr. Seward and Mr. Chase thought it would never do at
all."
Just before the retirement of Mr. Cameron, a number of influential
Senators waited upon the President and represented to him that inasmuch
as the Cabinet had not been chosen with reference to the war and had
more or less lost the confidence of the country, and since the President
had decided to select a new war minister, they thought the occasion was
opportune to change the whole seven Cabinet ministers. They therefore
earnestly advised him to make a clean sweep, select seven new men, and
so restore the waning confidence of the country. The President listened
with patient courtesy, and when the Senators had concluded, he said,
with a characteristic gleam of humor in his eye: "Gentlemen, your
request for a change of the whole Cabinet because I have made one
change, reminds me of a story I once heard in Illinois of a farmer who
was much troubled by skunks. They annoyed his household at night, and
his wife insisted that he should take measures to get rid of them. One
moonlight night he loaded his old shot-gun and stationed himself in the
yard to watch for the intruders, his wife remaining in the house
anxiously awaiting the result. After some time she heard the shotgun go
off, and in a few minutes the farmer entered the house. 'What luck had
you?' said she. 'I hid myself behind the woodpile,' said the old man,
'with the shot-gun pointed toward the hen-roost, and before long there
appeared, not one skunk, but _seven_. I took aim, blazed away, and
killed one--and he raised such a fearful smell I concluded it was best
to let the other six alone.'" The Senators retired, and nothing more was
heard from them about Cabinet reconstruction.
Of the character and abilities of Secretary Stanton, and the relations
between him and the President, General Grant has admirably said: "I had
the fullest support of the President and Secretary of War. No General
could want better backing; for the President was a man of great wisdom
and moderation, the Secretary a man of enormous character and will. Very
often where Lincoln would want to say _Yes_, his Secretary would make
him say _No_; and more frequently, when the Secretary was driving on in
a violent course, the President would check him. United, Lincoln and
Stanton made about as perfect a combination as I believe could, by any
possibility, govern a great nation in time of war.... The two men were
the very opposite of each other in almost every particular, except that
each possessed great ability. Mr. Lincoln gained influence over men by
making them feel that it was a pleasure to serve them. He preferred
yielding his own wish to gratify others, rather than to insist upon
having his own way. It distressed him to disappoint others. In matters
of public duty, however, he had what he wished, but in the least
offensive way. Mr. Stanton never questioned his own authority to
command, unless resisted. He cared nothing for the feeling of others."
In a further comparison of the two men, General Grant said: "Lincoln was
not timid, and he was willing to trust his generals in making and
executing plans. The Secretary [Stanton] was very timid, and it was
impossible for him to avoid interfering with the armies covering the
capital when it was sought to defend it by an offensive movement against
the army guarding the Confederate capital. He could see our weakness,
but he could not see that the enemy was in danger. The enemy would not
have been in danger if Mr. Stanton had been in the field."
With all his force of character, and his overbearing disposition,
Stanton did not undertake to rule the President--though this has
sometimes been asserted. He would frequently overawe and browbeat
others, but he was never imperious in dealing with Lincoln. Mr. Watson,
for some time Assistant Secretary of War, and Mr. Whiting, Solicitor of
the War Department, with many others in a position to know, have borne
positive testimony to this fact. Hon. George W. Julian, a member of the
House Committee on the Conduct of the War, says: "On the 24th of March,
1862, Secretary Stanton sent for the Committee for the purpose of having
a confidential conference as to military affairs. Stanton was thoroughly
discouraged. He told us the President had gone back to his first love,
General McClellan, and that it was needless for him or for us to labor
with him." This language clearly shows that Lincoln, not Stanton, was
the dominant mind.
Wherever it was possible, Lincoln gave Stanton his own way, and did not
oppose him. But there were occasions when, in a phrase used by Lincoln
long before, it was "necessary to _put the foot down firmly_." Such an
occasion is described by General J.B. Fry, Provost Marshal of the United
States during the war. An enlistment agent had applied to the President
to have certain credits of troops made to his county, and the President
promised him it should be done. The agent then went to Secretary
Stanton, who flatly refused to allow the credits as described. The agent
returned to the President, who reiterated the order, but again without
effect. Lincoln then went in person to Stanton's office. General Fry was
called in by Stanton to state the facts in the case. After he concluded,
Stanton remarked that Lincoln must see, in view of such facts, that his
order could not be executed. What followed is thus related by General
Fry: "Lincoln sat upon a sofa, with his legs crossed, and did not say a
word until the Secretary's last remark. Then he said, in a somewhat
positive tone, 'Mr. Secretary, I reckon you'll have to execute the
order.' Stanton replied, with asperity, 'Mr. President, I cannot do it.
The order is an improper one, and I cannot execute it.' Lincoln fixed
his eye upon Stanton, and in a firm voice and with an accent that
clearly showed his determination, he said, 'Mr. Secretary, _it will have
to be done_.' Stanton then realized that he was overmatched. He had made
a square issue with the President, and had been defeated. Upon an
intimation from him, I withdrew, and did not witness his surrender. A
few minutes after I reached my office I received instructions from the
Secretary to carry out the President's order."
Vice-President Wheeler relates a characteristic incident illustrating
the relations between Lincoln and Stanton. The President had promised
Mr. Wheeler an appointment for an old friend as army paymaster, stating
that the Secretary of War would instruct the gentleman to report for
duty. Hearing nothing further from the matter, Mr. Wheeler at length
called upon the Secretary and reminded him of the appointment. Mr.
Stanton denied all knowledge of the matter, but stated, in his brusque
manner, that the name would be sent in, with hundreds of others, to the
Senate for its consideration. Mr. Wheeler argued that his friend had
been appointed by the Commander-in-chief of the Army, and that it was
unjust to ask him to wait for the tardy action of the Senate upon the
nomination, and that he was entitled to be mustered in at once. But all
in vain; the only reply that could be got from the iron Secretary was,
"You have my answer; no argument." Mr. Wheeler went to the chief clerk
of the department, and asked for the President's letter directing the
appointment. Receiving it, he proceeded to the White House, although it
was after executive hours. "I can see Mr. Lincoln now," says Mr.
Wheeler, "as he looked when I entered the room. He wore a long calico
dressing-gown, reaching to his heels; his feet were encased in a pair of
old-fashioned leathern slippers, such as we used to find in the old-time
country hotels, and which had evidently seen much service in
Springfield. Above these appeared the home-made blue woollen stockings
which he wore at all seasons of the year. He was sitting in a splint
rocking-chair, with his legs elevated and stretched across his office
table. He greeted me warmly. Apologizing for my intrusion at that
unofficial hour, I told him I had called simply to ascertain which was
the paramount power in the Government, he or the Secretary of War.
Letting down his legs and straightening himself up in his chair, he
answered, 'Well, it is generally supposed _I am_. What's the matter?' I
then briefly recalled the facts attending Sabin's appointment, when,
without comment, he said, 'Give me my letter.' Then, taking his pen, he
indorsed upon it:
Let the within named J.A. Sabin be mustered AT ONCE. It is due to
him and to Mr. W., under the circumstances.
A. LINCOLN."
Armed with this peremptory order, Mr. Wheeler called on Stanton the next
morning. The Secretary was furious. He charged Mr. Wheeler with
interfering with his prerogatives. Mr. Wheeler remarked that he would
call the next morning for the order to muster in. He called accordingly,
and, handing him the order, in a rage, Stanton said, "I hope I shall
never hear of this matter again."
It is related by Hon. George W. Julian, already quoted, that on a
certain occasion a committee of Western men, headed by Mr. Lovejoy,
procured from the President an important order looking to the exchange
and transfer of Eastern and Western soldiers, with a view to more
effective work. "Repairing to the office of the Secretary, Mr. Lovejoy
explained the scheme, as he had before done to the President, but was
met with a flat refusal. 'But we have the President's order, sir,' said
Lovejoy. 'Did Lincoln give you an order of that kind?' said Stanton. 'He
did, sir.' 'Then he is a d----d fool,' said the irate Secretary. 'Do you
mean to say the President is a d----d fool?' asked Lovejoy, in
amazement. 'Yes, sir, if he gave you such an order as that.' The
bewildered Illinoisan betook himself at once to the President, and
related the result of his conference. 'Did Stanton say I was a d----d
fool?' asked Lincoln, at the close of the recital. 'He did, sir, and
repeated it.' After a moment's pause, and looking up, the President
said, 'If Stanton said I was a d----d fool, then _I must be one_, for he
is nearly always right, and generally says what he means. _I will step
over and see him_.'" The two men met, and the matter was easily
adjusted. It was this rare combination of good-humor and firmness with
an understanding of the other's trials and appreciation of his good
qualities, that reduced the friction of official life and enabled
Lincoln and Stanton to work together, in the main harmoniously and
efficiently, in their great task of prosecuting the war and maintaining
the integrity of the Union.
CHAPTER XIX
Lincoln's Personal Attention to the Military Problems of the
War--Efforts to Push forward the War--Disheartening
Delays--Lincoln's Worry and Perplexity--Brightening
Prospects--Union Victories in North Carolina and
Tennessee--Proclamation by the President--Lincoln Wants to See for
Himself--Visits Fortress Monroe--Witnesses an Attack on the Rebel
Ram "Merrimac"--The Capture of Norfolk--Lincoln's Account of the
Affair--Letter to McClellan--Lincoln and the Union Soldiers--His
Tender Solicitude for the Boys in Blue--Soldiers Always Welcome at
the White House--Pardoning Condemned Soldiers--Letter to a Bereaved
Mother--The Case of Cyrus Pringle--Lincoln's Love of Soldiers'
Humor--Visiting the Soldiers in Trenches and Hospitals--Lincoln at
"The Soldiers' Rest."
Early in 1862 Lincoln began giving more of his personal attention to
military affairs. He was dissatisfied with the slow movements and small
achievements of our armies, and sought to infuse new zeal and energy
into the Union commanders. He also began a careful study of the great
military problems pressing for solution; and he seemed resolved to
assume the full responsibilities of his position, not only as the civil
head of the Government but as the commander-in-chief of the armies and
navies of the United States. In this he was influenced by no desire for
personal control of the commanders in the field or interference with
their plans; he always preferred to leave them the fullest liberty of
action. But he felt that the situation demanded a single head, ready and
able to take full responsibility for the most important steps; and, true
to himself and his habits of a lifetime, he neither sought
responsibility nor flinched from it.
The leading officers of the Union army were mostly young and
inexperienced men, and none of them had as yet demonstrated the capacity
of a great commander. At best it was a process of experiment, to see
what generals and what strategic movements were most likely to succeed.
In order to be able to judge correctly of measures and men, Lincoln
undertook to familiarize himself with the practical details of military
affairs and operations. Here was developed a new and unsuspected phase
of his character. The plain country lawyer, unversed in the art of war,
was suddenly transformed into the great civil ruler and military
chieftain. "He was already," says Mr. A.G. Riddle, "one of the wariest,
coolest, and most skilful managers of men. _A born strategist_, he was
now rapidly mastering the great outline ideas of the art of war." "The
elements of selfishness and ferocity which are not unusual with
first-class military chiefs," said General Keyes, a prominent officer of
the Union army, "were wholly foreign to Lincoln's nature. Nevertheless,
_there was not one of his most trusted warlike counselors in the
beginning of the war who equaled him in military sagacity_." His
reliance, in the new duties and perils that confronted him, was upon his
simple common-sense, his native power of judgment and discernment.
"Military science," says a distinguished officer, "is common-sense
applied to the affairs of war." While Lincoln made no claim to technical
knowledge in this sphere, and preferred to leave details to his
subordinates, he yet developed an insight into military problems and an
understanding of practical operations in the field which enabled him not
only to approve or disapprove judiciously, but to direct and plan. A
striking confirmation of this is given by Mr. J.M. Winchell, who thus
relates what happened in a personal interview with the President:
"I was accompanied by one of Mr. Lincoln's personal friends; and
when we entered the well-known reception-room, a very tall, lanky
man came quickly forward to meet us. His manner seemed to me the
perfection of courtesy. I was struck with the simplicity, kindness,
and dignity of his deportment, so different from the clownish
manners with which it was then customary to invest him. His face
was a pleasant surprise, formed as my expectations had been from
the poor photographs then in vogue, and the general belief in his
ugliness. I remember thinking how much better-looking he was than I
had anticipated, and wondering that anyone should consider him
ugly. His expression was grave and care-worn, but still enlivened
with a cheerfulness that gave me instant hope. After a brief
interchange of commonplaces, he entered on a description of the
situation, giving the numbers of the contending armies, their
movements, and the general strategical purposes which should govern
them both. Taking from the wall a large map of the United States,
and laying it on the table, he pointed out with his long finger the
geographical features of the vicinity, clearly describing the
various movements so far as known, reasoning rigidly from step to
step, and creating a chain of probabilities too strong for serious
dispute. His apparent knowledge of military science, and his
familiarity with the special features of the present campaign, were
surprising in a man who had been all his life a civilian, engrossed
with politics and the practise of the law, and whose attention must
necessarily be so much occupied with the perplexing detail of
duties incident to his position. It was clear that he made the
various campaigns of the war a subject of profound and intelligent
study, forming opinions thereon as positive and clear as those he
held in regard to civil affairs."
Toward the end of January, 1862, Lincoln sought to overcome the inertia
that seemed settling upon the Union forces by issuing the "President's
General Order, No. I," directing that, on the 22d day of February
following, "a general movement of the land and naval forces of the
United States" be made against the insurgent forces, and giving warning
that "the heads of departments, and especially the Secretaries of War
and of the Navy, with all their subordinates, and the General-in-Chief,
with all other commanders and subordinates of land and naval forces,
will severally be held to their strict and full responsibilities for
prompt execution of this order." This order, while it doubtless served
to infuse activity into commanders and officials, did not result in any
substantial successes to our arms. The President, worn by his ceaseless
activities and anxieties, seems to have been momentarily disheartened at
the situation. Admiral Dahlgren, who was in command of the Washington
navy-yard in 1862, narrates that one day, at this period, "the President
drove down to see the hundred-and-fifty-pounder cannon fired. For the
first time I heard the President speak of the bare possibility of our
being two nations--as if alluding to a previous suggestion. He could not
see how the two could exist so near each other. He was evidently much
worried at our lack of military success, and remarked that '_no one
seemed ready_.'"
It is difficult to portray the worry and perplexity that beset Lincoln's
life, and the incessant demands upon his attention, in his efforts to
familiarize himself, as he felt compelled to do, with the practical
operations of the war. Admiral Dahlgren, who saw him almost daily,
relates that one morning the President sent for him, and said, "Well,
Captain, here's a letter about some new powder." He read the letter and
showed the sample of powder,--adding that he had burned some of it and
it did not seem a good article; there was too much residuum. "Now I'll
show you," said he. So he got a small sheet of paper and placed some of
the powder on it, then went to the fire, and with the tongs picked up a
coal, which he blew, with his spectacles still on his nose; then he
clapped the coal to the powder, and after the explosion, remarked:
"There is too much left there." There is something almost grotesque, but
touching and pathetic as well, in this picture of the President of the
United States, with all his enormous cares and responsibilities, engaged
in so petty a matter as testing a sample of powder. And yet so great was
his anxiety for the success of the armies and navies under his control
that he wished to become personally satisfied as to every detail. He did
not wish our armies or our war-vessels to lose battles on account of bad
powder. "At another time," Admiral Dahlgren has related, "the President
sent for me regarding some new invention. After the agent of the
inventor left, the President began on army matters. 'Now,' said he, 'I
am to have a sweat of five or six days'" (alluding to an impending
battle, for the result of which he was very anxious). Again: "The
President sent for me. Some man in trouble about arms; President holding
a breech-loader in his hand. He asked me about the iron-clads, and
Charleston." And again: "Went to the Department and found the President
there. He looks thin, and is very nervous. Said they were doing nothing
at Charleston, only asking for one iron-clad after another. The canal at
Vicksburg was of no account, and he wondered how any sensible man could
favor it. He feared the favorable state of public expectation would pass
away before anything was done. Then he leveled a couple of jokes at the
doings at Vicksburg and Charleston." No wonder the sympathetic
Dahlgren, witnessing the sufferings of the tortured President, should
exclaim: "_Poor gentleman_! How thin and wasted he is!"
The gloomy outlook in the Spring of 1862 was relieved by the substantial
victories of General Burnside in North Carolina and of General Grant in
Tennessee. The President was cheered and elated by these successes. It
is related that General Burnside, visiting Washington at this time,
called on the President, and that "the meeting was a grand spectacle.
The two stalwart men rushed into each other's arms, and warmly clasped
each other for some minutes. When General Burnside was about to leave,
the President inquired, 'Is there anything, my dear General, that I can
do for you?' 'Yes! yes!' was the quick reply, 'and I am glad you asked
me that question. My three brigadiers, you know; everything depended on
them, and they did their duty grandly!--Oh, Mr. President, we owe so
much to them! I should so much like, when I go back, to take them their
promotions.' 'It shall be done!' was Lincoln's hearty response, and on
the instant the promotions were ordered, and General Burnside had the
pleasure of taking back with him to Foster, Reno, and Parke their
commissions as Major-Generals."
Our brightening prospects impelled the President to issue, on the 10th
of April, the following proclamation, breathing his deeply religious
spirit:
It has pleased Almighty God to vouchsafe signal victories to the
land and naval forces engaged in suppressing an internal rebellion,
and at the same time to avert from our country the dangers of
foreign intervention and invasion. It is therefore recommended to
the people of the United States that at their next weekly
assemblages in their accustomed places of public worship which
shall occur after the notice of this Proclamation shall have been
received, they especially acknowledge and render thanks to our
Heavenly Father for these inestimable blessings; that they then and
there implore spiritual consolation in behalf of all those who have
been brought into affliction by the casualties and calamities of
sedition and civil war; and that they reverently invoke the Divine
guidance for our national counsels, to the end that they may
speedily result in the restoration of peace, harmony, and unity
throughout our borders, and hasten the establishment of fraternal
relations among all the countries of the earth.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Early in May the President determined on a personal visit to Fortress
Monroe, in order to learn what he could from his own observation of
affairs in that region. The trip was a welcome respite from the cares
and burdens of official life, and he gave himself up, as far as he
could, to its enjoyment. The Secretary of War (Stanton) and the
Secretary of the Treasury (Chase) accompanied the President. A most
interesting account of the expedition is given by General Viele, who was
a member of the party and thus had an opportunity to observe Lincoln
closely. "When on the afternoon of May 4," says General Viele, "I was
requested by the Secretary of War to meet him within an hour at the
navy-yard, with the somewhat mysterious caution to speak to no one of my
movements, I had no conception whatever of the purpose or intention of
the meeting. It was quite dark when I arrived there simultaneously with
the Secretary, who led the way to the wharf on the Potomac, to which a
steamer was moored that proved to be a revenue cutter, the 'Miami.' We
went on board and proceeded at once to the cabin, where to my surprise I
found the President and Mr. Chase, who had preceded us. The vessel
immediately got under way and steamed down the Potomac.... After supper
the table was cleared, and the remainder of the evening was spent in a
general review of the situation, which lasted long into the night. The
positions of the different armies in the field, the last reports from
their several commanders, the probabilities and possibilities as they
appeared to each member of the group, together with many other topics,
relevant and irrelevant, were discussed, interspersed with the usual
number of anecdotes from the never-failing supply with which the
President's mind was stored. It was a most interesting study to see
these men relieved for the moment from the surroundings of their onerous
official duties. The President, of course, was the centre of the
group--kind, genial, thoughtful, tender-hearted, magnanimous Abraham
Lincoln! It was difficult to know him without knowing him intimately,
for he was as guileless and single-hearted as a child; and no man ever
knew him intimately who did not recognize and admire his great
abilities, both natural and acquired, his large-heartedness and
sincerity of purpose.... He would sit for hours during the trip,
repeating passages of Shakespeare's plays, page after page of Browning,
and whole cantos of Byron. His inexhaustible stock of anecdotes gave to
superficial minds the impression that he was not a thoughtful and
reflecting man; whereas the fact was directly the reverse. These
anecdotes formed no more a part of Mr. Lincoln's mind than a smile forms
a part of the face. They came unbidden, and, like a forced smile, were
often employed to conceal a depth of anxiety in his own heart, and to
dissipate the care that weighed upon the minds of his associates. Both
Mr. Chase and Mr. Stanton were under great depression of spirits when we
started, and Mr. Chase remarked with a good deal of seriousness that he
had forgotten to write a very important letter before leaving. It was
too late to remedy the omission, and Mr. Lincoln at once drove the
thought of it from his mind by telling him that a man was sometimes
lucky in forgetting to write a letter, for he seldom knew what it
contained until it appeared again some day to confront him with an
indiscreet word or expression; and then he told a humorous story of a
sad catastrophe that happened in a family, which was ascribed to
something that came in a letter--a catastrophe so far beyond the region
of possibility that it set us all laughing, and Mr. Chase lost his
anxious look. That reminded Mr. Stanton of the dilemma he had been
placed in, just before leaving, by the receipt of a telegram from
General Mitchell, who was in Northern Alabama. The telegram was
indistinct, and could not be clearly understood; there was no time for
further explanation, and yet an immediate answer was required; so the
Secretary took the chances and answered back, 'All right; go ahead.'
'Now, Mr. President,' said he, 'if I have made a mistake, I must
countermand my instructions.' 'I suppose you meant,' said Mr. Lincoln,
'that it was all right if it was good for him, and all wrong if it was
not. That reminds me,' said he, 'of a story about a horse that was sold
at the cross-roads near where I once lived. The horse was supposed to be
fast, and quite a number of people were present at the time appointed
for the sale. A small boy was employed to ride the horse backward and
forward to exhibit his points. One of the would-be buyers followed the
boy down the road and asked him confidentially if the horse had a
splint. 'Well, mister,' said the boy, 'if it's good for him he's got it,
but if it isn't good for him he hasn't.' 'And that's the position,' said
the President, 'you seem to have left General Mitchell in. Well,
Stanton, I guess he'll come out right; but at any rate you can't help
him now.' ... Mr. Lincoln always had a pleasant word to say the last
thing at night and the first thing in the morning. He was always the
first one to awake, although not the first to rise. The day-time was
spent principally upon the quarter-deck, and the President entertained
us with numerous anecdotes and incidents of his life, of the most
interesting character. Few were aware of the physical strength possessed
by Mr. Lincoln. In muscular power he was one in a thousand. One morning,
while we were sitting on deck, he saw an axe in a socket on the
bulwarks, and taking it up, he held it at arm's length at the extremity
of the helve with his thumb and forefinger, continuing to hold it there
for a number of minutes. The most powerful sailors on board tried in
vain to imitate him. Mr. Lincoln said he could do this when he was
eighteen years of age, and had never seen a day since that time when he
could not.[E]
"It was late in the evening," continues General Viele, "when we arrived
at Fortress Monroe.... Answering the hail of the guard-boats, we made a
landing, and the Secretary of War immediately despatched a messenger for
General Wool, the commander of the fort; on whose arrival it was
decided to consult at once with Admiral Goldsborough, the commander of
the fleet, whose flag-ship, the 'Minnesota,' a superb model of naval
architecture, lay a short distance off the shore. The result of this
conference was a plan to get up an engagement the next day between the
'Merrimac' and the 'Monitor,' so that during the fight the 'Vanderbilt,'
which had been immensely strengthened for the purpose, might put on all
steam and run her down. Accordingly, the next morning, the President and
party went over to the Rip Raps to see the naval combat. The 'Merrimac'
moved out of the mouth of the Elizabeth river, quietly and steadily,
just as she had come out only a few weeks before when she had sunk the
'Congress' and the 'Cumberland.' She wore an air of defiance and
determination even at that distance. The 'Monitor' moved up and waited
for her. All the other vessels got out of the way to give the
'Vanderbilt' and the 'Minnesota' room to bear down upon the rebel terror
as soon as she should clear the coast line. It was a calm Sabbath
morning, and the air was still and tranquil. Suddenly the stillness was
broken by the cannon from the vessels and the great guns from the Rip
Raps, that filled the air with sulphurous smoke and a terrific noise
that reverberated from the fortress and the opposite shore like thunder.
The firing was maintained for several hours, but all to no purpose; the
'Merrimac' moved sullenly back to her position. It was determined that
night that on the following day vigorous offensive operations should be
undertaken. The whole available naval force was to bombard Sewall's
Point, and under cover of the bombardment the available troops from
Fortress Monroe were to be landed at that point and move on Norfolk.
Accordingly, the next morning a tremendous cannonading of Sewall's
Point took place. The wooden sheds at that place were set on fire and
the battery was silenced. The 'Merrimac,' coated with mail and lying low
in the water, looked on but took no part. Night came on, and the
cannonading ceased. It was so evident that the 'Merrimac' intended to
act only on the defensive, and that as long as she remained where she
was no troops could be landed in that vicinity, that they were ordered
to disembark. That night the President, with the Secretary of War and
the Secretary of the Treasury, went over on the 'Miami' to the Virginia
shore, and by the light of the moon landed on the beach and walked up
and down a considerable distance to assure himself that there could be
no mistake in the matter. How little the Confederacy dreamed what a
visitor it had that night to the 'sacred soil.'"
The following morning an advance was made upon Norfolk by the route
proposed by General Viele. The attempt was successful, and before night
our forces were in control of the captured city. Some time after
midnight, as General Viele records, "with a shock that shook the city,
and with an ominous sound that could not be mistaken, the magazine of
the 'Merrimac' was exploded, the vessel having been cut off from
supplies and deserted by the crew; and thus this most formidable engine
of destruction, that had so long been a terror, not only to Hampton
Roads, but to the Atlantic coast, went to her doom, a tragic and
glorious _finale_ to the trip of the 'Miami.'"
Secretary Chase had accompanied the expedition against Norfolk,
returning to Fortress Monroe with General Wool immediately after the
surrender of the city. The scene which ensued on the announcement of the
good tidings they brought back to the anxious parties awaiting news of
them was thus described by the President himself: "Chase and Stanton had
accompanied me to Fortress Monroe. While we were there, an expedition
was fitted out for an attack on Norfolk. Chase and General Wool
disappeared about the time we began to look for tidings of the result,
and after vainly waiting their return till late in the evening, Stanton
and I concluded to retire. My room was on the second floor of the
Commandant's house, and Stanton's was below. The night was very
warm,--the moon shining brightly,--and, too restless to sleep, I sat for
some time by the table, reading. Suddenly hearing footsteps, I looked
out of the window, and saw two persons approaching, whom I knew by their
relative size to be the missing men. They came into the passage, and I
heard them rap at Stanton's door and tell him to get up and come
upstairs. A moment afterward they entered my room. 'No time for
ceremony, Mr. President,' said General Wool; 'Norfolk is ours!' Stanton
here burst in, just out of bed, clad in a long night-gown which nearly
swept the floor, his ear catching, as he crossed the threshold, Wool's
last words. Perfectly overjoyed, he rushed at the General, whom he
hugged most affectionately, fairly lifting him from the floor in his
delight. The scene altogether must have been a comical one, though at
the time we were all too greatly excited to take much note of mere
appearances."
Lincoln's general grasp of military strategy, and his keen understanding
of the specific problems confronting the Army of the Potomac in the
critical autumn of 1862, are well indicated in the following
communication to General McClellan:
EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON,
October 13, 1862
MY DEAR SIR:--You remember my speaking to you of what I called your
over-cautiousness. Are you not over-cautious when you assume that
you cannot do what the enemy is constantly doing? Should you not
claim to be at least his equal in prowess, and act upon the claim?
As I understand, you telegraphed General Halleck that you cannot
subsist your army at Winchester unless the railroad from Harper's
Ferry to that point be put in working order. But the enemy does now
subsist his army at Winchester, at a distance nearly twice as great
from railroad transportation as you would have to do, without the
railroad last named. He now wagons from Culpepper Court-House,
which is just about twice as far as you would have to do from
Harper's Ferry. He is certainly not more than half as well provided
with wagons as you are. I certainly should be pleased for you to
have the advantage of the railroad from Harper's Ferry to
Winchester; but it wastes all the remainder of autumn to give it to
you, and, in fact, ignores the question of _time_, which cannot and
must not be ignored.
Again, one of the standard maxims of war, as you know, is, "to
operate upon the enemy's communications as much as possible,
without exposing your own." You seem to act as if this applies
_against_ you, but cannot apply in your _favor_. Change positions
with the enemy, and think you not he would break your communication
with Richmond within the next twenty-four hours? You dread his
going into Pennsylvania. But if he does so in full force, he gives
up his communications to you absolutely, and you have nothing to do
but to follow and ruin him; if he does so with less than full
force, fall upon and beat what is left behind all the easier.
Exclusive of the water line, you are now nearer Richmond than the
enemy is, by the route that you _can_ and he _must_ take. Why can
you not reach there before him, unless you admit that he is more
than your equal on the march? His route is the _arc_ of a circle,
while yours is the _chord_. The roads are as good on yours as on
his.
You know I desired, but did not order, you to cross the Potomac
below instead of above the Shenandoah and Blue Ridge. My idea was,
that this would at once menace the enemy's communications, which I
would seize if he would permit. If he should move northward, I
would follow him closely, holding his communications. If he should
prevent our seizing his communications, and move toward Richmond, I
would press closely to him, fight him if a favorable opportunity
should present, and at least try to beat him to Richmond on the
inside track. I say "try," for if we never try, we shall never
succeed. If he make a stand at Winchester, moving neither north nor
south, I would fight him there, on the idea that if we cannot beat
him when he bears the wastage of coming to us, we never can when we
bear the wastage of going to him. This proposition is a simple
truth, and is too important to be lost sight of for a moment. In
coming to us, he tenders us an advantage which we should not waive.
We should not so operate as to merely drive him away. As we must
beat him somewhere, or fail finally, we can do it, if at all,
easier near to us than far away. If we cannot beat the enemy where
he now is, we never can, he again being within the intrenchments of
Richmond. Recurring to the idea of going to Richmond on the inside
track, the facility of supplying from the side away from the enemy
is remarkable, as it were, by the different spokes of a wheel,
extending from the hub toward the rim, and this whether you move
directly by the chord, or on the inside arc, hugging the Blue Ridge
more closely. The chord-line, as you see, carries you by Aldie,
Haymarket, and Fredericksburg, and you see how turnpikes,
railroads, and finally the Potomac by Aquia Creek, meet you at all
points from Washington. The same, only the lines lengthened a
little, if you press closer to the Blue Ridge part of the way. The
gaps through the Blue Ridge I understand to be about the following
distances from Harper's Ferry, to wit: Vestal's, five miles;
Gregory's, thirteen; Snicker's, eighteen; Ashby's, twenty-eight;
Manassas, thirty-eight; Chester, forty-five; and Thornton's,
fifty-three. I should think it preferable to take the route nearest
the enemy, disabling him to make an important move without your
knowledge, and compelling him to keep his forces together for dread
of you. The gaps would enable you to attack if you should wish. For
a great part of the way you would be practically between the enemy
and both Washington and Richmond, enabling us to spare you the
greatest number of troops from here. When, at length, running to
Richmond ahead of him enables him to move this way, if he does so,
turn and attack him in the rear. But I think he should be engaged
long before such point is reached. It is all easy if our troops march as well as the enemy, and it is unmanly to say they cannot do it. This letter is in no sense an order. |
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