Abraham Lincoln: The Rail Candidate for President in 1860

ABRAHAM LINCOLN, THE RAIL CANDIDATE FOR PRESIDENT IN 1860.

   This incident was the means of enlarging the soubriquet "Honest Abe" to "Honest Old Abe, the Rail-splitter." The enthusiasm over the rails spread far and wide. That he had split rails, and that he even had done it well, was no test of his statesmanship. But it was a reminder of his humble origin, and it attached him to the common people, between whom and himself there had always been a warm feeling of mutual sympathy.

   The democratic convention had, after the bolt of the extreme southerners, adjourned to Baltimore, where they duly nominated Douglas. What anyone could have done for the purpose of restoring harmony in the party, he did. But the breach was too wide for even that astute politician to bridge over. Lincoln grasped the situation. It was what he had planned two years before, and he confidently expected just this breach. "Douglas never can be President," he had said. He fully understood the relentless bitterness of the slave power, and he well knew that whatever Douglas might do for the northern Democrats, he had lost all influence with the southern branch of that party. So Lincoln told his "little story" and serenely awaited the result.

  The second Republican national convention met in Chicago, May 16, 1860. A temporary wooden structure, called a wigwam, had been built for the purpose. It was, for those days, a very large building, and would accommodate about ten thousand people.

   The man who was, far and away, the most prominent candidate for the nomination, was William H. Seward, of New York. He had the benefit of thirty years of experience in political life. He was a man of wide learning, fine culture, unequaled as a diplomatist; he was a patriot, a statesman, and loyal to the principles of the Republican party. He had a plurality of the delegates by a wide margin, though not a majority. It seemed a foregone conclusion that he would be nominated. Horace Greeley, who was determinedly opposed to him, gave up the contest and telegraphed to his paper that Seward would be nominated. The opposition, he said, could not unite on any one man.

   The next most prominent name was Lincoln. He had the full delegation of Illinois, who, at Decatur, had been instructed to vote for him as "the first and only choice" of the state. He had many votes, too, from the neighboring states.

   In addition to these two candidates before the convention, there were half a dozen others, all "favorite sons" of their own states, but who at no time developed any great strength.

The only point against Seward was his inability to carry certain doubtful states. If the split in the democratic party had not occurred, and if the election were to be carried according to the experience of 1856, it would be necessary for the Republicans to carry certain states which they had at that time failed to carry. The most available states were Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Indiana, and Illinois. Under favorable circumstances, these could be carried. Seward's long public career had inevitably caused antagonisms, and these necessary states he could not carry. The question with his opponents then was, Who is most likely to carry these states? Lincoln's popularity in three of the four states named singled him out as the rival of Seward. It then became only a question whether the opposition to Seward could or could not unite in the support of Lincoln.

   At this point there came in a political ruse which has been often used in later years. Seward's friends had taken to Chicago a small army of claquers, numbering nearly or quite two thousand. These were distributed through the audience and were apparently under orders to shout whenever Seward's name was mentioned. This gave the appearance of spontaneous applause and seemed to arouse great enthusiasm for the candidate.

   Lincoln's friends soon came to understand the situation and planned to beat their rivals at their own game. They sent out into the country and secured two men with phenomenal voices. It was said, with playful exaggeration, that these two men could shout so as to be heard across Lake Michigan. They were made captains of two stentorian bands of followers. These were placed on opposite sides of the auditorium and were instructed to raise the shout at a preconcerted signal and keep it up as long as desired. The plan worked.

    Leonard Swett describes the result: "Caleb B. Smith of Indiana then seconded the nomination of Lincoln, and the West came to his rescue. No mortal before ever saw such a scene. The idea of us Hoosiers and Suckers being out-screamed would have been as bad to them as the loss of their man. Five thousand people at once leaped to their seats, women not wanting in the number, and the wild yell made soft vesper breathings of all that had preceded. No language can describe it. A thousand steam-whistles, ten acres of hotel gongs, a tribe of Comanches headed by a choice vanguard from pandemonium, might have mingled in the scene unnoticed."

   A dramatic scene had occurred at the adoption of the platform. When the first resolution was read, Joshua E. Giddings, an old-time abolitionist of the extreme type, moved as an amendment to incorporate the words from the Declaration of Independence which announce the right of all men to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." The hostility to this amendment was not so much owing to an objection to the phrase, as to its being introduced upon the motion of so extreme a partisan as Giddings. The new party was made up of men of various old parties, and it was important that the moderate Democrats should not be antagonized by the extreme abolitionists. The motion was lost by a decided vote, and the old man, almost broken-hearted, left the hall amid the protestations of his associates.

There then came to his rescue a young man, about thirty-six years of age, who was then not widely known, but who since has more than once decidedly influenced Republican conventions at a critical stage of the proceedings. It was George William Curtis. When the second resolution was under consideration he presented the amendment of Giddings in a form slightly modified. He then urged it in an impassioned speech, and by his torrent of eloquence carried the enthusiasm of the convention with him. "I have to ask this convention," he concluded, "whether they are prepared to go upon the record before the country as voting down the words of the Declaration of Independence…. I rise simply to ask gentlemen to think well before, upon the free prairies of the West, in the summer of 1860, they dare to wince and quail before the assertion of the men of Philadelphia in 1776—before they dare to shrink from repeating the words that these great men enunciated."

   The amendment was adopted in a storm of applause. Giddings, overjoyed at the result, returned to the hall. He threw his arms about Curtis and, with deep emotion, exclaimed,—"God bless you, my boy! You have saved the Republican party. God bless you!"

The candidates in those days were simply announced without speeches of glorification, Mr. Evarts of New York named Seward, and Mr. Judd of Illinois named Lincoln. The names of half a dozen "favorite sons" were offered by their states, the most important being Bates of Missouri. After the seconding of the nominations, the convention proceeded to the ballot. There were 465 votes, and 233 were necessary for a choice.

   On the first ballot Seward received 173-1/2, and Lincoln, 102. The rest were scattering. On the second ballot Seward received 184-1/2, and Lincoln, 181. Seward was still ahead, but Lincoln had made by far the greater gain. On the third ballot Seward received 180, and Lincoln 231- 1/2. But this ballot was not announced. The delegates kept tally during the progress of the vote. When it became evident that Lincoln was about elected, while the feeling of expectancy was at the highest degree of tension, an Ohio delegate mounted his chair and announced a change of four Ohio votes from Chase to Lincoln. There was instantly a break. On every side delegates announced a change of vote to Lincoln. The result was evident to every one, and after a moment's pause, the crowd went mad with joy. One spectator has recorded the event:

    "The scene which followed baffles all human description. After an instant's silence, which seemed to be required to enable the assembly to take in the full force of the announcement, the wildest and mightiest yell (for it can be called by no other name) burst forth from ten thousand voices which were ever heard from mortal throats. This strange and tremendous demonstration, accompanied with leaping up and down, tossing hats, handkerchiefs, and canes recklessly into the air, with the waving of flags, and with every other conceivable mode of exultant and unbridled joy, continued steadily and without pause for perhaps ten minutes."

   "It then began to rise and fall in slow and billowing bursts, and for perhaps the next five minutes, these stupendous waves of uncontrollable excitement, now rising into the deepest and fiercest shouts, and then sinking, like the ground swell of the ocean, into hoarse and lessening murmurs, rolled through the multitude. Every now and then it would seem as though the physical power of the assembly was exhausted, when all at once a new hurricane would break out, more prolonged and terrific than anything before. If sheer exhaustion had not prevented, we don't know but the applause would have continued to this hour."

   During all this time Lincoln remained at Springfield, where he was in telegraphic communication with his friends at Chicago, though not by private wire. At the time of his nomination he had gone from his office to that of the Sangamon Journal. A messenger boy came rushing up to him, carrying a telegram and exclaiming, "You are nominated." The friends who were present joyously shook his hands and uttered their eager congratulations. Lincoln thanked them for their good wishes, and said "There is a little woman on Eighth Street who will be glad to hear this, and I guess I'll go up and carry her the news." Pocketing the telegram he walked home.

   At the wigwam, the news spread quickly. A man had been stationed on the roof as picket. He shouted, "Hallelujah! Abe Lincoln is nominated. Fire the cannon!" The frenzy of joy spread to the immense throng of citizens outside the wigwam, then through the city, then through the state, then through the neighboring states. At Washington that night some one asked, "Who is this man Lincoln, anyhow?" Douglas replied, "There won't be a tar barrel left in Illinois' tonight." With unprecedented enthusiasm the republican party started on this campaign which led to its first victory in the election of Abraham Lincoln of Illinois, and Hannibal Hamlin of Maine.

Abraham Lincoln's Nomination 1860

Abraham Lincoln's Nomination 1860

THE NOMINATION OF 1860.
 The subject of this chapter is the Republican convention that nominated Lincoln for the presidency. But for an intelligent narration of this, it is necessary to give a brief account of at least one of the three other important political conventions that were held that year. That one was the regular democratic convention at Charleston. And certain other facts also must be narrated.

Leaven was working in two respects. The first is that the plan of secession and of setting up a Southern nation founded upon slavery was not a sudden or impromptu thought. The evidence is conclusive that the plan had been maturing for years. Recent events had shown that slavery had reached the limit of its development so far as concerned the territory of the United States. The plan to annex Cuba as a garden for the culture of slavery had failed. California had been admitted as a free state. Slavery had been excluded from Kansas, although that territory had for two years been denied admission to the sisterhood of states.

   As the slave power was not content with any limitation whatever, its leaders now looked for an opportunity to break up this present government and start a new one. At the time (December, 1860) South Carolina passed the ordinance of secession, to be narrated later, certain things were said which may be quoted here. These utterances exposed the spirit that animated the slave power long before Lincoln's election, long before he was even known in politics.

   Parker said that the movement of secession had been "gradually culminating for a long series of years."

Inglis endorsed the remark and added, "Most of us have had this matter under consideration for the last twenty years."

Keitt said, "I have been engaged in this movement ever since I entered political life."

Rhett said, "The secession of South Carolina was not the event of a day. It is not anything produced by Mr. Lincoln's election, or by the non-execution of the fugitive slave law. It is a matter which has been gathering head for thirty years. The election of Lincoln and Hamlin was the last straw on the back of the camel. But it was not the only one. The back was nearly broken before.

The other important fact was the result of Lincoln's Freeport question. The answer of Douglas was: "I answer emphatically … that in my opinion the people of a territory can, by lawful means, exclude slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a state constitution." This answer satisfied the democrats of Illinois and secured his election to the senate, as Lincoln predicted that it would. But it angered the southern leaders beyond all reason—as Lincoln knew it would.

When, therefore, the democratic convention met in Charleston, the first purpose of the southern leaders was to defeat Douglas. In their judgment he was not orthodox on slavery. He was far the strongest candidate before the convention, but he was not strong enough to secure the two-thirds vote which under the rules of that party were necessary to a choice. After fifty-seven ballots, and a corresponding amount of debating, the feeling of antagonism rising, continually higher, the crisis came. The southern delegates withdrew from the convention and appointed a convention of their own to be held in Richmond. This was done with the full knowledge that, if it accomplished anything, it would accomplish the defeat of the party. It was probably done for this very purpose,—to defeat the party,—so as to give an excuse, more or less plausible, for carrying out the matured plan of secession, claiming to be injured or alarmed at the ascendancy of the republican party.

   Up to this point, at least, Lincoln had no aspirations for the presidency. But he did aspire to the United States senate. He accepted his defeat by Douglas in 1858 as only temporary. He knew there would be another senatorial election in four years. When asked how he felt about this defeat, he turned it into a joke, and said that he felt "like the boy who had stubbed his toe, too badly to laugh, and he was too big to cry."

   He had thought of being nominated as vice-president with Seward as President, which would have given him, if elected, a place in the senate. He was glad of any possible prominence in the Chicago convention, which was still in the future. For that would help his senatorial aspirations when the time came. But as to anything higher, he declared, "I must in all candor say that I do not think myself fit for the presidency." And he was an honest man. With the senate still in view, he added, "I am not in a position where it would hurt me much not to be nominated [for president] on the national ticket; but I am where it would hurt some for me not to get the Illinois delegates."

   Thus, at the beginning of the year 1860, Lincoln was in no sense in the race for the presidential nomination. About that time a list of twenty- one names of possible candidates was published in New York; Lincoln's name was not on the list. A list of thirty-five was published in Philadelphia. Lincoln's name was not on that list. After the speech at Cooper Institute the Evening Post mentioned Lincoln's name along with others. That was the only case in the East.

   In Illinois his candidacy developed in February and came to ahead at the Republican state convention at Decatur. Lincoln's name had been prominent in the preceding local conventions, and the enthusiasm was growing. Decatur was very near to the place where Thomas Lincoln had first settled when he came into the state. When Abraham Lincoln came into this convention he was greeted with an outburst of enthusiasm. After order had been restored, the chairman, Governor Oglesby, announced that an old-time Macon County democrat desired to make a contribution to the convention. The offer being accepted, a banner was borne up the hall upon two old fence rails. The whole was gaily decorated and the inscription was:

Lincoln Appoints Grant as Head of the Army of the Potomac

Lincoln Appoints Grant as Head of the Army of the Potomac

    The great army of R. E. Lee operated, through the whole period of the four years of the war, almost within sight of Washington City. It is not in the least strange that eastern men, many of whom had hardly crossed the Alleghanies, should think that the operations in Virginia were about all the war there was, and that the fighting in the West was of subordinate importance. Lincoln could not fall into this error. Not only had he a singularly broad vision, but he was himself a western man. He fully appreciated the magnitude of the operations in that vast territory lying between the Alleghanies on the east and the western boundary of Missouri on the west. He also clearly understood the importance of keeping open the Mississippi River throughout its entire length.

    At the very time the Army of the Potomac was apparently doing nothing, —winning no victories, destroying no armies, making no permanent advances,—there was a man in the West who was building up for himself a remarkable reputation. He was all the while winning victories, destroying armies, making advances. He was always active, he was always successful. The instant one thing was accomplished he turned his energies to a new task. This was Grant.

   He was a graduate of West Point, had seen service in the Mexican War, and ultimately rose to the grade of captain. At the outbreak of the war he was in business with his father in Galena, Illinois. When the President called for the 75,000 men, Grant proceeded at once to make himself useful by drilling volunteer troops. He was by the governor of Illinois commissioned as colonel, and was soon promoted. His first service was in Missouri. When stationed at Cairo he seized Paducah on his own responsibility. This stroke possibly saved Kentucky for the Union, for the legislature, which had up to that time been wavering, declared at once in favor of the Union.

   He was then ordered to break up a Confederate force at Belmont, a few miles below Cairo. He started at once on his expedition, and though the enemy was largely reinforced before his arrival, he was entirely successful and returned with victory, not excuses.

   Then came Forts Henry and Donaldson. The latter attracted unusual attention because it was the most important Union victory up to that time, and because of his epigrammatic reply to the offer of surrender. When asked what terms he would allow, his reply was, "Unconditional surrender." As these initials happened to fit the initials of his name, he was for a long time called "Unconditional Surrender Grant." So he passed promptly from one task to another, from one victory to another. And Lincoln kept watch of him. He began to think that Grant was the man for the army.

    It has been said that Lincoln, while he gave general directions to his soldiers, and freely offered suggestions, left them to work out the military details in their own way. This is so well illustrated in his letter to Grant that, for this reason, as well as for the intrinsic interest of the letter, it is here given in full:

   "MY DEAR GENERAL:—I do not remember that you and I ever met personally. I write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for the almost inestimable service you have done the country. I wish to say a word further. When you first reached the vicinity of Vicksburg, I thought you should do what you finally did—march the troops across the neck, run the batteries with the transports, and thus go below; and I never had any faith, except a general hope that you knew better than I, that the Yazoo Pass expedition and the like could succeed. When you got below and took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I thought you should go down the river and join General Banks; and when you turned northward, east of the Big Black, I thought it was a mistake. I now wish to make the personal acknowledgment that you were right and I was wrong."

   There was surely no call for this confession, no reason for the letter, except the bigness of the heart of the writer. Like the letter to Hooker, it was just such a letter as a father might write a son. It was the production of a high grade of manliness.

   Prominence always brings envy, fault-finding, hostility. From this Grant did not escape. The more brilliant and uniform his successes, the more clamorous a certain class of people became. The more strictly he attended to his soldierly duties, the more busily certain people tried to interfere,—to tell him how to do, or how not to do. In their self- appointed censorship they even besieged the President and made life a burden to him. With wit and unfailing good nature, he turned their criticisms. When they argued that Grant could not possibly be a good soldier, he replied, "I like him; he fights."

When they charged him with drunkenness, Lincoln jocularly proposed that they ascertain the brand of the whisky he drank and buy up a large amount of the same sort to send to his other generals, so that they might win victories like him!

   Grant's important victories in the West came in rapid and brilliant succession. Forts Henry and Donaldson were captured in February 1862. The battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, was fought in April of the same year. Vicksburg surrendered on July 4th, 1863. And the battle of Chattanooga took place in November of that year.

    Grant was always sparing of words and his reports were puzzling to the administration. He always reported, and that promptly. But his reports were of the briefest description and in such marked contrast to those of all other officers known to the government, that they were a mystery to those familiar with certain others. Lincoln said that Grant could do anything except write a report. He concluded to send a trusty messenger to see what manner of man this victorious general was. Charles A. Dana, Assistant-Secretary of War, was chosen for this purpose. His investigation was satisfactory, fully so. Lincoln's confidence in, and hopes for, this rising warrior were fully justified.

   It was after the capitulation of Vicksburg that Grant grasped the fact that he was the man destined to end the war. After the battle of Chattanooga public opinion generally pointed to him as the general who was to lead our armies to ultimate victory. In February, 1864, Congress passed an act creating the office of Lieutenant General. The President approved that act on Washington's birthday and nominated Grant for that office. The senate confirmed this nomination on March 2d, and Grant was ordered to report at Washington.

   With his usual promptness he started at once for Washington, arriving there the 8th of March. The laconic conversation which took place between the President and the general has been reported about as follows:—

"What do you want me to do?"

"To take Richmond. Can you do it?"

"Yes, if you furnish me troops enough."

   That evening there was a levee at the White House which he attended. The crowd were very eager to see him, and he was persuaded to mount a sofa, which he did blushing, so that they might have a glimpse of him, but he could not be prevailed on to make a speech. On parting that evening with the President, he said, "This is the warmest campaign I have witnessed during the war."

   That evening Lincoln informed him that he would on the next day formally present his commission with a brief speech—four sentences in all. He suggested that Grant reply in a speech suitable to be given out to the country in the hope of reviving confidence and courage. The formality of the presentation occurred the next day, but the general disappointed the President as to the speech. He accepted the commission with remarks of soldier-like brevity.

   It is fitting here to say of General Meade that as he had accepted his promotion to the command of the Army of the Potomac with dignified humility, so he accepted his being superseded with loyal obedience. In both cases he was a model of a patriot and a soldier.

   As soon as he received his commission Grant visited his future army— the Army of the Potomac. Upon his return Mrs. Lincoln planned to give a dinner in his honor. But this was not to his taste. He said, "Mrs. Lincoln must excuse me. I must be in Tennessee at a given time."

   "But," replied the President, "we can't excuse you. Mrs. Lincoln's dinner without you would be Hamlet with Hamlet left out."

   "I appreciate the honor Mrs. Lincoln would do me," he said, "but time is very important now—and really—Mr. Lincoln—I have had enough of this show business."

   Mr. Lincoln was disappointed in losing the guest for dinner, but he was delighted with the spirit of his new general.

   Grant made his trip to the West. How he appreciated the value of time is shown by the fact that he had his final conference with his successor, General Sherman, who was also his warm friend, on the railway train en route to Cincinnati. He had asked Sherman to accompany him so far for the purpose of saving time.

   On March 17th General Grant assumed command of the armies of the United States with headquarters in the field. He was evidently in earnest. As Lincoln had cordially offered help and encouragement to all the other generals, so he did to Grant. The difference between one general and another was not in Lincoln's offer of help, or refusal to give it, but there was a difference in the way in which his offers were received. The following correspondence tells the story of the way he held himself alert to render assistance:

"EXECUTIVE MANSION,

WASHINGTON, April 30, 1864.

LIEUT.-GENERAL GRANT:

Not expecting to see you again before the spring campaign opens, I wish to express in this way my entire satisfaction with what you have done up to this time, so far as I understand it. The particulars of your plan I neither know nor seek to know. You are vigilant and self- reliant; and, pleased with this, I wish not to obtrude any constraints or restraints upon you. While I am very anxious that any great disaster or capture of our men in great numbers shall be avoided, I know these points will be less likely to escape your attention than they would be mine. If there is anything wanting which is within my power to give, do not fail to let me know it. And now, with a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain you.

  Yours very truly,
   A. LINCOLN."

   "Headquarters Armies of the United States,
   Culpepper Court-House, May 1, 1864."

THE PRESIDENT:

"Your very kind letter of yesterday is just received. The confidence you express for the future and satisfaction with the past in my military administration is acknowledged with pride. It will be my earnest endeavor that you and the country shall not be disappointed. From my first entrance into the volunteer service of the country to the present day, I have never had cause of complaint—have never expressed or implied a complaint against the Administration, or the Secretary of War, for throwing any embarrassment in the way of my vigorously prosecuting what appeared to me my duty. Indeed since the promotion which placed me in command of all the armies, and in view of the great responsibility and importance of success, I have been astonished at the readiness with which everything asked for has been yielded, without even an explanation being asked. Should my success be less than I desire and expect, the least I can say is, the fault is not with you.

  Very truly, your obedient servant,
   U. S. Grant, Lieut-General."

There is just here a subject on which there is a curious difference of opinion between Grant and John Hay. Grant says that, on his last visit to Washington before taking the field, the President had become acquainted with the fact that a general movement had been ordered all along the line, and seemed (italics ours) to think it a new feature in war. He explained this plan to the President who was greatly interested and said, "Oh, yes! I see that. As we say out West, if a man can't skin, he must hold a leg while somebody else does."

There is, at the same time, documentary evidence that Lincoln had been continually urging this precise plan on all his generals. Mr. Hay therefore distrusts the accuracy of General Grant's memory. To the present writer, there is no mystery in the matter. The full truth is large enough to include the statement of Grant as well as that of Nicolay and Hay. Mr. Hay is certainly right in claiming that Lincoln from the first desired such a concerted movement all along the line; for, even though not all could fight at the same time, those not fighting could help otherwise. This was the force of the western proverb, "Those not skinning can hold a leg," which he quoted to all his generals from Buell to Grant.

When therefore Grant explained precisely this plan to Lincoln, the latter refrained from the natural utterance,—"That is exactly what I have been trying to get our generals to do all these years." In courtesy to Grant, he did not claim to have originated the plan, hut simply preserved a polite silence. He followed eagerly as the general reiterated his own ideas, and the exclamation, "Oh, yes! I see that," would mean more to Lincoln than Grant could possibly have guessed. He did see it, he had seen it a long time.

It will be remembered that Lincoln had, for the sake of comprehending the significance of one word, mastered Euclid after he became a lawyer. There is here another evidence of the same thoroughness and force of will. During the months when the Union armies were accomplishing nothing, he procured the necessary books and set himself, in the midst of all his administrative cares, to the task of learning the science of war. That he achieved more than ordinary success will now surprise no one who is familiar with his character. His military sagacity is attested by so high an authority as General Sherman. Other generals have expressed their surprise and gratification at his knowledge and penetration in military affairs. But never at any time did he lord it over his generals. He did make suggestions. He did ask McClellan why one plan was better than another. He did ask some awkward questions of Meade. But it was his uniform policy to give his generals all possible help, looking only for results, and leaving details unreservedly in their hands. This is the testimony of McClellan and Grant, and the testimony of the two generals, so widely different in character and method, should be and is conclusive. Grant says that Lincoln expressly assured him that he preferred not to know his purposes,—he desired only to learn what means he needed to carry them out, and promised to furnish these to the full extent of his power.

Side by side these two men labored, each in his own department, until the war was ended and their work was done. Though so different, they were actuated by the same spirit. Not even the southern generals themselves had deeper sympathy with, or greater tenderness for, the mass of the Confederate soldiers. It was the same magnanimity in Lincoln and Grant that sent the conquered army, after their final defeat, back to the industries of peace that they might be able to provide against their sore needs.

When that madman assassinated the President, the conspiracy included also the murder of the general. This failed only by reason of Grant's unexpected absence from Washington City on the night of the crime.

Abraham Lincoln's Death: A Nation Mourns

Abraham Lincoln's Death: A Nation Mourns

   The outburst of sorrow and indignation over the foul murder of the President was so great as to lead people to assume that Lincoln was at all times and universally a favorite. Those who know better have sometimes thought it discreet to preserve silence. But the greatness of his work cannot be appreciated at its full value unless one bears in mind that he had not the full measure of sympathy and a reasonable help from those on whom he had a right to depend. During the four years that he was in Washington he was indeed surrounded by a band of devoted followers. But these people were few in numbers. Those who sympathized with Fremont, or McClellan, or Greeley, plus those who were against Lincoln on general principles, constituted a large majority of the people who ought to have sustained him. All of these factions, or coteries, however much they differed among themselves, agreed in hampering Lincoln. For one person Lincoln was too radical, for another too conservative, but both joined hands to annoy him.

   Much of this annoyance was thoughtless. The critics were conscientious, they sincerely believed that their plans were the best. They failed to grasp the fact that the end desired might possibly be better reached by other methods than their own. But on the other hand much of this annoyance was malicious.

    When the shock of the murder came, there was a great revulsion of feeling. The thoughtless were made thoughtful, the malicious were brought to their senses. Neither class had realized into what diabolical hands they were playing by their opposition to the administration. It was the greatness of the sorrow of the people—the plain people whom he had always loved and who always loved him—that sobered the contentions. Even this was not fully accomplished at once. There is documentary evidence to show that the extreme radicals, represented by such men as George W. Julian, of Indiana, considered that the death of Lincoln removed an obstruction to the proper governing of the country. Julian's words (in part) are as follows:

    "I spent most of the afternoon [April 15, 1864, the day of Lincoln's death] in a political caucus held for the purpose of considering the necessity for a new Cabinet and a line of policy less conciliating than that of Mr. Lincoln; and while everybody was shocked at his murder, the feeling was nearly universal that the accession of Johnson to the presidency would prove a godsend to the country…. On the following day, in pursuance of a previous engagement, the Committee on the Conduct of the War met the President at his quarters at the Treasury Department. He received us with decided cordiality, and Mr. Wade said to him: 'Johnson, we have faith in you. There will be no trouble now in running the government.'… While we were rejoiced that the leading conservatives of the country were not in Washington, we felt that the presence and influence of the committee, of which Johnson had been a member, would aid the Administration in getting on the right track…. The general feeling was … that he would act on the advice of General Butler by inaugurating a policy of his own, instead of administering on the political estate of his predecessor." (Julian, "Political Recollections," p. 255, ff.).

The names of the patriots who attended this caucus on the day of Lincoln's death, are not given. It is not necessary to know them. It is not probable that there were many exhibitions of this spirit after the death of the President. This one, which is here recorded in the words of the confession of one of the chief actors, is an exception. But before the death of Lincoln, this spirit of fault-finding, obstruction, hostility, was not uncommon and was painfully aggressive. After his death there was a revulsion of feeling. Many who had failed to give the cheer, sympathy, and encouragement which they might have given in life, shed bitter and unavailing tears over his death.

    On the other, the Confederate, side, it is significant that during the ten days the murderer was in hiding, no southern sympathizer whom he met wished to arrest him or have him arrested, although a large reward had been offered for his apprehension. As to the head of the Confederacy, Jeff Davis, there is no reasonable doubt that he approved the act and motive of Booth, whether he had given him a definite commission or not. Davis tried to defend himself by saying that he had greater objection to Johnson than to Lincoln. But since the conspiracy included the murder of both Lincoln and Johnson, as well as others, this defense is very lame. It was certainly more than a coincidence that Booth—a poor man who had plenty of ready money—and Jacob Thompson, the Confederate agent in Canada, had dealings with the same bank in Montreal. Davis himself said, "For an enemy so relentless, in the war for our subjugation, I could not be expected to mourn."

   To put it in the mildest form, neither Jeff Davis in the South, nor the extreme radicals in the North, were sorry that Lincoln was out of the way. Extremes had met in the feeling of relief that the late President was now out of the way. This brings to mind a statement in an ancient book which records that "Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day; for before they were at enmity between themselves."

   On Friday evening there had been general rejoicing throughout the loyal North. On Saturday morning there rose to heaven a great cry of distress,—such a cry as has hardly been paralleled since the destruction of the first-born in Egypt. For the telegraph—invented since Lincoln had come into manhood—had carried the heavy news to every city and commercial center in the North. The shock plunged the whole community, in the twinkling of an eye, from the heights of exultation into the abyss of grief.

    There was no business transacted that day. The whole nation was given up to grief. Offices, stores, exchanges were deserted. Men gathered in knots and conversed in low tones. By twelve o'clock noon there was scarcely a public building, store, or residence in any northern city that was not draped in mourning. The poor also procured bits of black crepe, or some substitute for it, and tied them to their door-knobs. The plain people were orphaned. "Father Abraham" was dead.

Here and there some southern sympathizer ventured to express exultation,—a very rash thing to do. Forbearance had ceased to be a virtue, and in nearly every such case the crowd organized a lynching bee in the fraction of a minute, and the offender was thankful to escape alive.

   Though this wave of sorrow swept over the land from ocean to ocean, it was necessarily more manifest in Washington than elsewhere. There the crime had been committed. There the President's figure was a familiar sight and his voice was a familiar sound. There the tragedy was nearer at hand and more vivid. In the middle of the morning a squad of soldiers bore the lifeless body to the White House. It lay there in state until the day of the funeral, Wednesday. It is safe to say that on the intervening Sunday there was hardly a pulpit in the North, from which, by sermon and prayer, were not expressed the love of the chief. On Wednesday, the day of the funeral in Washington, all the churches in the land were invited to join in solemnizing the occasion.

   The funeral service was held in the East Room of the White House, conducted by the President's pastor Dr. Gurley, and his eloquent friend, Bishop Simpson of the Methodist Episcopal church. Mrs. Lincoln, prostrated by the shock, was unable to be present, and little Tad would not come. Only Robert, a recent graduate of Harvard and at the time a member of Grant's staff, was there to represent the family.

    After the service, which was brief and simple, the body was borne with suitable pomp and magnificence, the procession fittingly headed by negro troops, to the Capitol, where it was placed in the rotunda until the evening of the next day. There, as at the White House, innumerable crowds passed to look upon that grave, sad, kindly face. The negroes came in great numbers, sobbing out their grief over the death of their Emancipator. The soldiers, too, who remembered so well his oft repeated "God bless you, boys!" were not ashamed of their grief. There were also neighbors, friends, and the general public.

   It was arranged that the cortege should return to Springfield over as nearly as possible the same route as that taken by the President in 1861,—Baltimore, Harrisburg, Philadelphia, New York, Albany, Cleveland, Columbus, Indianapolis, and Chicago. In the party there were three of those who had escorted him to Washington,—David Davis, W. H. Lamon, and General Hunter.

At eight o'clock on Friday, April 21st, the funeral train left Washington. It is hardly too much to say that it was a funeral procession two thousand miles in length. All along the route people turned out, not daunted by darkness and rain—for it rained much of the time—and stood with streaming eyes to watch the train go by. At the larger cities named, the procession paused and the body lay for some hours in state while the people came in crowds so great that it seemed as if the whole community had turned out. At Columbus and Indianapolis, those in charge said that it seemed as if the entire population of the state came to do him honor. The present writer has never witnessed another sight so imposing.

    Naturally, the ceremonies were most elaborate in New York City. But at Chicago the grief was most unrestrained and touching. He was there among his neighbors and friends. It was the state of Illinois that had given him to the nation and the world. They had the claim of fellow- citizenship, he was one of them. As a citizen of the state of which Chicago was the leading city, he had passed all his public life. The neighboring states sent thousands of citizens, for he was a western man like themselves, and for the forty-eight hours that he lay in state a continuous stream of all sorts and conditions of men passed by sorrowing.

   In all these cities not a few mottoes were displayed. Most of these were from his own writings, such as, "With malice toward none, with charity for all;" and, "We here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain." Two others are firmly fixed in the mind of the writer which are here given as a sample of all. The first is from the Bible: "He being dead yet speaketh." The second is from Shakespeare:

  "His life was gentle, and the elements
  So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up
  And say to all the world, This was a man!"

    His final resting-place was Springfield. Here, and in all the neighboring country, he was known to every one. He had always a kind word for every one, and now all this came back in memory. His goodness had not been forgotten. Those whom he had befriended had delighted to tell of it. They therefore came to do honor not merely to the great statesman, but to the beloved friend, the warm-hearted neighbor. Many could remember his grave face as he stood on the platform of the car that rainy morning in February, 1861, and said, "I now leave, not knowing when or whether ever I shall return." Between the two days, what a large and noble life had been lived.

    The city had made elaborate preparations for the final services. The funeral in Springfield was on May 4th. The order of service included a dirge, a prayer, the reading of his second inaugural address, and an oration. The latter was by Bishop Simpson and was worthy of the noble and eloquent orator. It was a beautiful day, the rain which had been falling during the long journey was over, and May sunshine filled earth and sky. Near the close of the day the body of the President, together with that of his little son Willie, which also had been brought from Washington, was laid in a vault in Oak Ridge cemetery.

    A movement was at once set on foot to erect a suitable monument. For this purpose a few large sums of money were subscribed, but most of it came in small sums from the plain people. The negro troops contributed $8,000. The sum of $180,000 in all was raised and a noble structure was erected. It was dedicated in 1874. The orator of the day was his old- time friend, Governor, afterwards General, Oglesby. Warm words of appreciation were added by Generals Grant and Sherman. The former, who served under him as general and for two terms succeeded him in office, among other things said, "To know him personally was to love and respect him for his great qualities of heart and head, and for his patience and patriotism."

[Illustration: Tomb of Abraham Lincoln at Springfield, Illinois.]

   Lincoln was never a resident of Chicago, but he was always a favorite in that city, even though it was the home of his great rival, Judge Douglas. It was there he was nominated in 1860, and the city always felt as if it had a personal claim on him. It has done itself honor by the construction of Lincoln Park. The chief ornament is a bronze statue of heroic size, by the sculptor St. Gaudens. The statue represents Lincoln in the attitude of speaking, and the legend, which is lettered at the base, is the sublime paragraph that concludes the second inaugural. The beauty of the park—lawn, flowers, shrubbery, trees— and the majesty of the statue, constitute a noble memorial of the man whose name they perpetuate.

Union Soldiers Killed at Gettysburg

Union Soldiers Killed at Gettysburg

Union soldiers killed at Gettysburg from canister canon shot. The exact location on the battlefield is unknown.

Young Abraham Lincoln in Color

Young Abraham Lincoln in Color

Colorized photo of the Senator from Illinois: Abraham Lincoln

Gettysburg: Confederate Dead at Devils Den

Gettysburg: Confederate Dead at Devils Den

Two Confederate soldiers killed in the fighting at Devils Den

Abraham Lincolns Quotes on the Birth of Joshua Speeds Second Child

ABRAHAM LINCOLN QUOTES ON THE BIRTH OF JOSHUA SPEED'S SECOND CHILD

TO JOSHUA P. SPEED

SPRINGFIELD, October 22, 1846.

DEAR SPEED:—You, no doubt, assign the suspension of our correspondence to the true philosophic cause; though it must be confessed by both of us that this is rather a cold reason for allowing a friendship such as ours to die out by degrees. I propose now that, upon receipt of this, you shall be considered in my debt, and under obligations to pay soon, and that neither shall remain long in arrears hereafter. Are you agreed?

Being elected to Congress, though I am very grateful to our friends for having done it, has not pleased me as much as I expected.

We have another boy, born the 10th of March. He is very much such a child as Bob was at his age, rather of a longer order. Bob is "short and low," and I expect always will be. He talks very plainly,—almost as plainly as anybody. He is quite smart enough. I sometimes fear that he is one of the little rare-ripe sort that are smarter at about five than ever after. He has a great deal of that sort of mischief that is the offspring of such animal spirits. Since I began this letter, a messenger came to tell me Bob was lost; but by the time I reached the house his mother had found him and had him whipped, and by now, very likely, he is run away again. Mary has read your letter, and wishes to be remembered to Mrs. Speed and you, in which I most sincerely join her.

As ever yours,

A. LINCOLN.

Abraham Lincon;s Letter Regarding Speech on the Mexican War

ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S LETTER REGARDING SPEECH ON MEXICAN WAR

TO WILLIAM H. HERNDON.

WASHINGTON, February 1, 1848.

DEAR WILLIAM:—Your letter of the 19th ultimo was received last night, and for which I am much obliged. The only thing in it that I wish to talk to you at once about is that because of my vote for Ashmun's amendment you fear that you and I disagree about the war. I regret this, not because of any fear we shall remain disagreed after you have read this letter, but because if you misunderstand I fear other good friends may also. That vote affirms that the war was unnecessarily and unconstitutionally commenced by the President; and I will stake my life that if you had been in my place you would have voted just as I did. Would you have voted what you felt and knew to be a lie? I know you would not. Would you have gone out of the House—skulked the vote? I expect not. If you had skulked one vote, you would have had to skulk many more before the end of the session. Richardson's resolutions, introduced before I made any move or gave any vote upon the subject, make the direct question of the justice of the war; so that no man can be silent if he would. You are compelled to speak; and your only alternative is to tell the truth or a lie. I cannot doubt which you would do.

This vote has nothing to do in determining my votes on the questions of supplies. I have always intended, and still intend, to vote supplies; perhaps not in the precise form recommended by the President, but in a better form for all purposes, except Locofoco party purposes. It is in this particular you seem mistaken. The Locos are untiring in their efforts to make the impression that all who vote supplies or take part in the war do of necessity approve the President's conduct in the beginning of it; but the Whigs have from the beginning made and kept the distinction between the two. In the very first act nearly all the Whigs voted against the preamble declaring that war existed by the act of Mexico; and yet nearly all of them voted for the supplies. As to the Whig men who have participated in the war, so far as they have spoken in my hearing they do not hesitate to denounce as unjust the President's conduct in the beginning of the war. They do not suppose that such denunciation is directed by undying hatred to him, as The Register would have it believed. There are two such Whigs on this floor (Colonel Haskell and Major James) The former fought as a colonel by the side of Colonel Baker at Cerro Gordo, and stands side by side with me in the vote that you seem dissatisfied with. The latter, the history of whose capture with Cassius Clay you well know, had not arrived here when that vote was given; but, as I understand, he stands ready to give just such a vote whenever an occasion shall present. Baker, too, who is now here, says the truth is undoubtedly that way; and whenever he shall speak out, he will say so. Colonel Doniphan, too, the favorite Whig of Missouri, and who overran all Northern Mexico, on his return home in a public speech at St. Louis condemned the administration in relation to the war. If I remember, G. T. M. Davis, who has been through almost the whole war, declares in favor of Mr. Clay; from which I infer that he adopts the sentiments of Mr. Clay, generally at least. On the other hand, I have heard of but one Whig who has been to the war attempting to justify the President's conduct. That one was Captain Bishop, editor of the Charleston Courier, and a very clever fellow. I do not mean this letter for the public, but for you. Before it reaches you, you will have seen and read my pamphlet speech, and perhaps been scared anew by it. After you get over your scare, read it over again, sentence by sentence, and tell me honestly what you think of it. I condensed all I could for fear of being cut off by the hour rule, and when I got through I had spoken but forty-five minutes.

Yours forever,

A. LINCOLN.

Abraham Lincoln and Wisconsin Statehood, 1848

Abraham Lincoln's Letter About Wisconsin Statehood, 1848

MAY 11, 1848.

A bill for the admission of Wisconsin into the Union had been passed.

Mr. Lincoln moved to reconsider the vote by which the bill was passed. He stated to the House that he had made this motion for the purpose of obtaining an opportunity to say a few words in relation to a point raised in the course of the debate on this bill, which he would now proceed to make if in order. The point in the case to which he referred arose on the amendment that was submitted by the gentleman from Vermont [Mr. Collamer] in Committee of the Whole on the State of the Union, and which was afterward renewed in the House, in relation to the question whether the reserved sections, which, by some bills heretofore passed, by which an appropriation of land had been made to Wisconsin, had been enhanced in value, should be reduced to the minimum price of the public lands. The question of the reduction in value of those sections was to him at this time a matter very nearly of indifference. He was inclined to desire that Wisconsin should be obliged by having it reduced. But the gentleman from Indiana [Mr. C. B. Smith], the chairman of the Committee on Territories, yesterday associated that question with the general question, which is now to some extent agitated in Congress, of making appropriations of alternate sections of land to aid the States in making internal improvements, and enhancing the price of the sections reserved, and the gentleman from Indiana took ground against that policy. He did not make any special argument in favor of Wisconsin, but he took ground generally against the policy of giving alternate sections of land, and enhancing the price of the reserved sections. Now he [Mr. Lincoln] did not at this time take the floor for the purpose of attempting to make an argument on the general subject. He rose simply to protest against the doctrine which the gentleman from Indiana had avowed in the course of what he [Mr. Lincoln] could not but consider an unsound argument.

It might, however, be true, for anything he knew, that the gentleman from Indiana might convince him that his argument was sound; but he [Mr. Lincoln] feared that gentleman would not be able to convince a majority in Congress that it was sound. It was true the question appeared in a different aspect to persons in consequence of a difference in the point from which they looked at it. It did not look to persons residing east of the mountains as it did to those who lived among the public lands. But, for his part, he would state that if Congress would make a donation of alternate sections of public land for the purpose of internal improvements in his State, and forbid the reserved sections being sold at $1.25, he should be glad to see the appropriation made; though he should prefer it if the reserved sections were not enhanced in price. He repeated, he should be glad to have such appropriations made, even though the reserved sections should be enhanced in price. He did not wish to be understood as concurring in any intimation that they would refuse to receive such an appropriation of alternate sections of land because a condition enhancing the price of the reserved sections should be attached thereto. He believed his position would now be understood: if not, he feared he should not be able to make himself understood.

But, before he took his seat, he would remark that the Senate during the present session had passed a bill making appropriations of land on that principle for the benefit of the State in which he resided the State of Illinois. The alternate sections were to be given for the purpose of constructing roads, and the reserved sections were to be enhanced in value in consequence. When that bill came here for the action of this House—it had been received, and was now before the Committee on Public Lands—he desired much to see it passed as it was, if it could be put in no more favorable form for the State of Illinois. When it should be before this House, if any member from a section of the Union in which these lands did not lie, whose interest might be less than that which he felt, should propose a reduction of the price of the reserved sections to $1.25, he should be much obliged; but he did not think it would be well for those who came from the section of the Union in which the lands lay to do so.—He wished it, then, to be understood that he did not join in the warfare against the principle which had engaged the minds of some members of Congress who were favorable to the improvements in the western country. There was a good deal of force, he admitted, in what fell from the chairman of the Committee on Territories. It might be that there was no precise justice in raising the price of the reserved sections to $2.50 per acre. It might be proper that the price should be enhanced to some extent, though not to double the usual price; but he should be glad to have such an appropriation with the reserved sections at $2.50; he should be better pleased to have the price of those sections at something less; and he should be still better pleased to have them without any enhancement at all.

There was one portion of the argument of the gentleman from Indiana, the chairman of the Committee on Territories [Mr. Smith], which he wished to take occasion to say that he did not view as unsound. He alluded to the statement that the General Government was interested in these internal improvements being made, inasmuch as they increased the value of the lands that were unsold, and they enabled the government to sell the lands which could not be sold without them. Thus, then, the government gained by internal improvements as well as by the general good which the people derived from them, and it might be, therefore, that the lands should not be sold for more than $1.50 instead of the price being doubled. He, however, merely mentioned this in passing, for he only rose to state, as the principle of giving these lands for the purposes which he had mentioned had been laid hold of and considered favorably, and as there were some gentlemen who had constitutional scruples about giving money for these purchases who would not hesitate to give land, that he was not willing to have it understood that he was one of those who made war against that principle. This was all he desired to say, and having accomplished the object with which he rose, he withdrew his motion to reconsider.

The Confederates Hovering Around Washington

THE CONFEDERATES HOVERING AROUND WASHINGTON.

After General McDowell reached Washington my brigade was thrown forward, first to Centreville, then to Fairfax Court-House, and later still to Falls Church and Munson’s and Mason’s Hills; the cavalry, under Colonel J. E. B. Stuart, constituting part of the command.

We were provokingly near Washington, with orders not to attempt to advance even to Alexandria. Well-chosen and fortified positions, with soldiers to man them, soon guarded all approaches to the capital. We had frequent little brushes with parties pushed out to reconnoitre. Nevertheless, we were neither so busy nor so hostile as to prevent the reception of a cordial invitation to a dinner-party on the other side, to be given to me at the head-quarters of General Richardson. He was disappointed when I refused to accept this amenity, and advised him to be more careful lest the politicians should have him arrested for giving aid and comfort to the enemy. He was my singularly devoted friend and admirer before the war, and had not ceased to be conscious of old-time ties.

The service at Falls Church, Munson’s and Mason’s Hills was first by my brigade of infantry, a battery, and Stuart’s cavalry. During that service the infantry and batteries were relieved every few days, but the cavalry was kept at the front with me. As the authorities allowed] me but one battery, and that was needed from time to time to strike out at anything and everything that came outside the fortified lines, we collected a number of old wagon-wheels and mounted on them stove-pipes of different calibre, till we had formidable-looking batteries, some large enough of calibre to threaten Alexandria, and even the National Capitol and Executive Mansion. It is needless to add that Munson’s Hill was so safe as not to disturb our profound slumbers. This was before the Federals began to realize all of their advantages by floating balloons above our heads.

One of the most conspicuous and successful of our affairs occurred on the 11th of September. A brigade of the enemy’s infantry, with eight pieces of artillery and a detachment of cavalry, escorting a reconnoitring party, advanced to Lewinsville. If they had secured and fortified a position there they would have greatly annoyed us. Colonel Stuart, who from the start had manifested those qualities of daring courage, tempered by sagacity, which so admirably fitted him for outpost service, had his pickets so far to the front that he was promptly informed of the presence of the enemy. He was ordered, with about eight hundred infantry, a section of Rosser’s battery, and Captain Patrick’s troop of cavalry, to give battle, and so adroitly approached the enemy as to surprise him, and by a bold dash drove him off in confusion, with some loss.

We had a number of small affairs which served to season the troops and teach the importance of discipline and vigilance. It was while at Falls Church that Major-General G. W. Smith reported for duty with the Army of Northern Virginia, and was associated with General Johnston and General Beauregard, the three forming a council for the general direction of the operations of the army. General McClellan had by this time been appointed to superior command on the Federal side.

GENERAL J. E. B. STUART

Despairing of receiving reinforcement to enable him to] assume the offensive, General Johnston regarded it as hazardous to hold longer the advanced post of Munson’s and Mason’s Hills, drew the troops back to and near Fairfax Court-House, and later, about the 19th of October, still farther to Centreville, and prepared for winter quarters by strengthening his positions and constructing huts, the line extending to Union Mills on the right. These points were regarded as stronger in themselves and less liable to be turned than the positions at and in advance of Fairfax Court-House. We expected that McClellan would advance against us, but were not disturbed. I was promoted major-general, which relieved me of the outpost service, to which Colonel Stuart was assigned.

The autumn and early winter were not permitted to pass without some stirring incidents in our front. Soon after the battle of July 21, Colonel Eppa Hunton was ordered to reoccupy Leesburg with his regiment, the Eighth Virginia. Later, the Thirteenth, Seventeenth, and Eighteenth Mississippi Regiments were sent to the same vicinity, and with the regiment already there and a battery constituted the Seventh Brigade, Brigadier-General N. G. Evans commanding. To cover a reconnoissance and an expedition to gather supplies made by General McCall’s division to Dranesville, General McClellan ordered General C. P. Stone, commanding at Poolesville, Maryland, to make a demonstration in force against Leesburg, and, if practicable, to dislodge the Confederates at that place. Early in the morning of the 21st of October four of General Stone’s regiments crossed the Potomac at Edwards’s Ferry, and about the same time five other regiments, under the immediate command of Colonel Baker, late United States Senator from Oregon, crossed the river above at Ball’s Bluff. Leaving Colonel Barksdale with his Thirteenth Mississippi, with six pieces of artillery as a reserve, to hold in check the force that had crossed at Edwards’s Ferry, Evans with his main force assailed[] the force under Colonel Baker, and after a long and fierce struggle, under a heavy fire of batteries on both sides of the river, drove them down the bluff to the river, many surrendering, others plunging into the river to recross, overcrowding and sinking the boats that had brought them over; some drowning in the Potomac.

Two months later, December 20, there was an affair at Dranesville which for us was by no means so satisfactory as Evans’s at Leesburg and Ball’s Bluff. It was known that food for men and horses could be found in the vicinity of Dranesville. All of the available wagons of the army were sent to gather and bring it in, and Colonel Stuart, with one hundred and fifty of his cavalry, the Sumter Flying Artillery (Captain A. S. Cutts), and four regiments of infantry detailed from different brigades, was charged with the command of the foraging party. The infantry regiments were the Eleventh Virginia, Colonel Samuel Garland; Tenth Alabama, Colonel Forney; Sixth South Carolina, Lieutenant-Colonel Secrest; and First Kentucky, Colonel Thomas Taylor; the cavalry, Ransom’s and Bradford’s.

General McCall, commanding the nearest Union division, happened just then to want those supplies, or, as seems more probable, had information through a spy of Stuart’s expedition.

He took measures to gather the supplies, or surprise and perhaps capture or destroy Stuart’s party. However that may be, when Stuart reached the vicinity of Dranesville he found himself in the presence of General Ord, who had under him his own brigade of five regiments of infantry, Easton’s battery, two twenty-four-pound howitzers and two twelve-pound guns, and two squadrons of cavalry. Finding that he was anticipated, and that his only way of saving the train was to order it back to Centreville in all haste, Stuart decided to attack, in order to give it time to get to a place of safety, and] despatched a detachment of cavalry on the turnpike towards Leesburg to warn the wagons to hasten back to Centreville, the cavalry to march between them and the enemy. He ordered his artillery and infantry to hasten to the front, and as soon as they came up assailed the enemy vigorously, continuing the engagement until he judged that his wagon-train had passed beyond danger; then he extricated his infantry and artillery from the contest, with a much heavier loss than he had inflicted on the enemy, leaving the killed and some of the wounded. It was the first success that had attended the Union arms in that quarter, and was magnified and enjoyed on that side. This action advanced McClellan considerably in popular estimation and led to the bestowal upon him, by some enthusiast, of the sobriquet “the Young Napoleon.”

During the autumn and early winter the weather had been unusually fine. The roads and fields in that section were generally firm and in fine condition for marching and manœuvring armies. With the beginning of the new year winter set in with rain and snow, alternate freezing and thawing, until the roads and fields became seas of red mud.

As no effort of general advance was made during the season of firm roads, we had little apprehension of trouble after the winter rains came to make them too heavy for artillery service.

Abraham Lincoln Defense of the Opposition to the Mexican War

ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S DEFENSE OF MEXICAN WAR POSITION

TO REV. J. M. PECK

WASHINGTON, May 21, 1848. DEAR SIR:

....Not in view of all the facts. There are facts which you have kept out of view. It is a fact that the United States army in marching to the Rio Grande marched into a peaceful Mexican settlement, and frightened the inhabitants away from their homes and their growing crops. It is a fact that Fort Brown, opposite Matamoras, was built by that army within a Mexican cotton-field, on which at the time the army reached it a young cotton crop was growing, and which crop was wholly destroyed and the field itself greatly and permanently injured by ditches, embankments, and the like. It is a fact that when the Mexicans captured Captain Thornton and his command, they found and captured them within another Mexican field.

Now I wish to bring these facts to your notice, and to ascertain what is the result of your reflections upon them. If you deny that they are facts, I think I can furnish proofs which shall convince you that you are mistaken. If you admit that they are facts, then I shall be obliged for a reference to any law of language, law of States, law of nations, law of morals, law of religions, any law, human or divine, in which an authority can be found for saying those facts constitute "no aggression."

Possibly you consider those acts too small for notice. Would you venture to so consider them had they been committed by any nation on earth against the humblest of our people? I know you would not. Then I ask, is the precept "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them" obsolete? of no force? of no application?

Yours truly,

A. LINCOLN.

Abraham Lincoln Letter in the Zachary Taylor Nomination

ABRAHAM LINCOLN ON ZACHARY TAYLOR NOMINATION

TO ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS.

WASHINGTON, June 12, 1848.

DEAR WILLIAMS:—On my return from Philadelphia, where I had been attending the nomination of "Old Rough," (Zachary Taylor) I found your letter in a mass of others which had accumulated in my absence. By many, and often, it had been said they would not abide the nomination of Taylor; but since the deed has been done, they are fast falling in, and in my opinion we shall have a most overwhelming, glorious triumph. One unmistakable sign is that all the odds and ends are with us—Barnburners, Native Americans, Tyler men, disappointed office-seeking Locofocos, and the Lord knows what. This is important, if in nothing else, in showing which way the wind blows. Some of the sanguine men have set down all the States as certain for Taylor but Illinois, and it as doubtful. Cannot something be done even in Illinois? Taylor's nomination takes the Locos on the blind side. It turns the war thunder against them. The war is now to them the gallows of Haman, which they built for us, and on which they are doomed to be hanged themselves.

Excuse this short letter. I have so many to write that I cannot devote much time to any one.

Yours as ever,

A. LINCOLN.