E-text prepared by an anonymous volunteer
Transcriber's note:
The chapter summaries in the Table of Contents are repeated
in the text at the start of each chapter.
Footnotes are at the end of the chapter (or section of a Table
of Congress), referenced by parenthesized numbers, e.g. (1).
The capitalization of hyphenated words is inconsistent,
following the text, as is the use of the comma in lists.
The tables of the 39th and 40th Congresses are moved to the
Appendices.
Line 2874: "gauge of battle" changed to "gage of battle"
Line 12981: missing numerator in "3/10" supplied from preceding text.
Non-standard spellings: domicil; hinderance; cotemporary]
TWENTY YEARS OF CONGRESS:
From Lincoln to Garfield
With a Review of the Events Which Led to the Political Revolution of 1860.
by
JAMES G. BLAINE.
Volume II.
Norwich, Conn.:
The Henry Bill Publishing Company.
1886.
Copyright, 1884,
by James G. Blaine.
All rights reserved.
Electrotyped and Printed
By Rand, Avery, and Company,
Boston, Mass
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
CHAPTER I.
ANDREW JOHNSON INSTALLED AS PRESIDENT.—CABINET AND SENATORS WITNESSES TO THE CEREMONY.—RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE NEW PRESIDENT DELICATE IN CHARACTER.—REQUIRING THE HIGHEST ORDER OF STATESMANSHIP.—THE QUESTION OF RECONSTRUCTION.—ITS PECULIAR DIFFICULTIES.—NEW AND PERPLEXING QUESTIONS.—CHARACTER AND CAREER OF MR. JOHNSON.—BORN IN NORTH CAROLINA.—MIGRATES TO TENNESSEE.—HIS RAPID PROMOTION IN THAT STATE.— A TAILOR BY TRADE.—WITHOUT EDUCATION—TAUGHT TO READ AT FIFTEEN.— MAYOR OF TOWN AT TWENTY-TWO.—IN THE LEGISLATURE AT TWENTY-SEVEN.— PRESIDENTIAL ELECTOR IN 1840 AT THIRTY-TWO.—IN CONGRESS AT THIRTY- FIVE.—GOVERNOR FROM 1853 TO 1857.—HIS HOMESTEAD POLICY.—NECESSARY ANTAGONISM WITH SLAVERY.—HIS IDEAL OF A RURAL POPULATION.—BOLDNESS OF HIS POLITICAL COURSE IN TENNESSEE.—HIS LOYALTY TO THE UNION.— SEPARATES FROM THE DEMOCRATIC CONSPIRATORS.—HIS CAREER IN THE CIVIL WAR.—APPOINTED MILITARY GOVERNOR OF TENNESSEE.—HIS ABLE ADMINISTRATION OF THE OFFICE.—FORESHADOWS A SEVERE POLICY AS PRESIDENT.—CONTRAST WITH MR. LINCOLN.—ANALYSIS OF JOHNSON'S POSITION. —HIS BRIEF INAUGURAL ADDRESS.—EFFECT PRODUCED BY IT.—HIS ADDRESS TO AN ILLINOIS DELEGATION.—SIGNIFICANT INDICATION OF A HARSH POLICY TOWARDS THE REBELS.—PRESTON KING'S INFLUENCE.—PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS TO A CHRISTIAN COMMISSION.—TO LOYAL SOUTHERNERS.—TO A PENNSYLVANIA DELEGATION.—PRESIDENT'S TONE GROWS STERNER TOWARDS "TRAITORS."— STRIKING CONVERSATION WITH SENATOR WADE.—FUNERAL CEREMONIES OF THE LATE PRESIDENT.—REMAINS CARRIED TO ILLINOIS.—IMPRESSIVE SCENE IN BALTIMORE.—IN PHILADELPHIA.—BODY REPOSES IN INDEPENDENCE HALL.— CONTRAST WITH FOUR YEARS BEFORE.—UNPARALLELED DISPLAY OF FEELING IN NEW YORK.—ORATION BY GEORGE BANCROFT.—ELEGIAC ODE BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.—INTERMENT IN ILLINOIS.—CEREMONIES COMPARED WITH THOSE OF ROYALTY.—PROFOUND FEELING THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY.—PUBLIC MANIFESTATION OF MOURNING.
CHAPTER II.
MILITARY REVIEW IN HONOR OF UNION VICTORY.—THE EASTERN AND WESTERN ARMIES.—THEIR GREAT ACHIEVEMENTS.—SPECIAL INTEREST.—NUMBER OF BATTLES DURING THE WAR.—NUMBER EACH YEAR.—STRUGGLE OF 1861-65.— DISCIPLINE OF THE ARMY.—MORAL RESPONSIBILITY OF CONTINUING THE CONTEST.—NEEDLESS SLAUGHTER OF MEN.—CONFEDERATE RESPONSIBILITY.— SPEECH OF ROBERT M. T. HUNTER, FOLLOWED BY JUDAH P. BENJAMIN.— EXTREME MEASURES ADVOCATED BY HIM.—HIS OVER-ZEAL.—MR. BENJAMIN SEEKS REFUGE IN ENGLAND.—HIS SUCCESS THERE DUE TO ENGLISH SYMPATHY WITH THE REBELLION.—HIS MALIGNITY TOWARDS THE UNION.—SOUTHERN CHARACTER.—ITS STRONG POINTS AND ITS WEAK POINTS.—CONDUCT OF CONFEDERATE CONGRESS.— THEIR INFLAMMATORY ADDRESS.—ITS EXTRAVAGANCE AND ABSURDITY.—JEFFERSON DAVIS'S ADDRESS TO CONGRESS.—HIS LACK OF MORAL COURAGE.—DISBANDMENT OF UNION ARMY, 1,00,516 MEN.—ANOTHER MILLION GONE BEFORE.—SELF- SUPPORT AND SELF-ADJUSTMENT.—COMPARISON WITH THE ARMY OF THE REVOLUTION.—UNION OFFICERS ALL YOUNG MEN.—AGES OF OFFICERS IN OTHER WARS.—AGES OF REGULAR ARMY OFFICERS.—OF VOLUNTEER OFFICERS.—HARMONY OF THE TWO.—SPECIAL EFFICIENCY OF THE VOLUNTEERS.—MAGNITUDE OF THE UNION ARMY.—THE INFANTRY, CAVALRY, ARTILLERY.—NUMBER OF GENERALS.— NUMBER OF REGIMENTS.—MILITARY RESOURCES OF THE REPUBLIC.—ITS SECURITY IN TIME OF DANGER.
CHAPTER III.
THE RECONSTRUCTION PROBLEM.—THE PRESIDENT'S PUBLIC ADDRESSES.—TIME FOR ACTION ARRIVED.—PROCLAMATION DECLARING HOSTILITIES CEASED.—MANNER OF DEALING WITH INSURRECTIONARY STATES.—MR. LINCOLN'S FIRST EFFORTS AT RECONSTRUCTION.—ELECTION IN LOUISIANA.—FLANDERS AND HAHN.—MR. LINCOLN'S NOTE TO GENERAL SHEPLEY.—TO CUTHBERT BULLETT.—MR. LINCOLN'S DEFINITE PLAN.—"ONE-TENTH" OF VOTERS TO ORGANIZE LOYAL STATE GOVERNMENT.—FREE-STATE CONVENTION IN LOUISIANA.—MICHAEL HAHN ELECTED GOVERNOR.—CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION.—MR. LINCOLN'S CONGRATULATIONS.— SIMILAR ACTION IN ARKANSAS.—ISAAC MURPHY ELECTED GOVERNOR.— REPRESENTATION IN CONGRESS DENIED TO THESE STATES.—MR. SUMNER'S RESOLUTION.—ADOPTED BY SENATE.—SIMILAR ACTION IN HOUSE.—CONFLICT BETWEEN THE PRESIDENT AND CONGRESS.—CONGRESSIONAL PLAN OF RECONSTRUCTION.—THREE FUNDAMENTAL CONDITIONS.—BILL PASSED JULY 4, 1864.—NOT APPROVED BY THE PRESIDENT.—HIS REASONS GIVEN IN A PUBLIC PROCLAMATION.—SENATOR WADE AND H. WINTER DAVIS CRITICISE THE PROCLAMATION.—THEIR PROTEST.—SUBSEQUENT RESOLUTION OF CONGRESS.—THE PRESIDENT'S REPLY TO IT.—MR. LINCOLN'S PROBABLE COURSE ON THE SUBJECT OF RECONSTRUCTION.—RECONSTRUCTION OF THE GOVERNMENT OF TENNESSEE.—THE QUICK PROCESS OF DOING.—RATIFIED BY POPULAR VOTE, 25,293 TO 48.— PARSON BROWNLOW CHOSEN GOVERNOR.—PATTERSON AND FOWLER ELECTED SENATORS.—JOHNSON'S INAUGURATION AS VICE-PRESIDENT.—HIS SPEECH.—WERE THE REBEL STATES OUT OF THE UNION?—JOHNSON'S VIEWS.—MR. LINCOLN'S VIEWS.—RADICAL AND CONSERVATIVE.—EXTRA SESSION DEBATED.—ADVERSE DECISION.—ILL-LUCK OF EXTRA SESSIONS.
CHAPTER IV.
PRESIDENT JOHN AND THE CABINET.—EFFECT OF VICE-PRESIDENT'S ACCESSION.
—EXAMPLE OF TYLER IN 1841 AND FILLMORE IN 1850.—A VICE-PRESIDENT'S
DIFFICULT POSITION.—PERSONNEL OF CABINET IN 1865.—ITS NEARLY EVEN
DIVISION ON RECONSTRUCTION ISSUES.—PRESUMED POSITION OF EACH MEMBER.—
STANTON, HARLAN, AND DENNISON RADICAL.—WELLES, McCULLOCH, AND SPEED
CONSERVATIVE.—MR. SEWARD'S RELATION TO THE PRESIDENT.—HIS POSITION
EXPLAINED.—MR. SEWARD REGAINS HIS HEALTH.—DISPLAY OF HIS PERSONAL
POWER.—CHARACTERISTICS OF MR. SEWARD.—SUPERIORITY OF HIS MIND.—
TENDENCY OF THE PRESIDENT'S MIND.—SOCIAL INFLUENCES AT WORK UPON HIM.
—HIS RADICAL CHANGE OF POSITION.—PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION MAY 29.—
AMNESTY AND PARDON TO REBELS.—THIRTEEN EXCEPTED CLASSES.—THE "TWENTY-
THOUSAND-DOLLAR" DISABILITY.—WARMLY OPPOSED BY MR. SEWARD.—CLEMENCY
PROMISED TO EXCEPTED CLASSES.—PARDONS APPLIED FOR.—FOURTEEN THOUSAND
GRANTED IN NINE MONTHS.—ANOTHER PROCLAMATION OF SAME DATE.—
PROVISIONAL GOVERNORS APPOINTED.—FIRST FOR NORTH CAROLINA.—EXISTING
GOVERNMENTS IN VIRGINIA, LOUISIANA, ARKANSAS, AND TENNESSEE
RECOGNIZED.—PRESIDENT'S RECONSTRUCTION POLICY.—NOW FULLY DISCLOSED.—
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE PRESCRIBED.—PROVISIONAL GOVERNORS TO ASSEMBLE
CONVENTIONS.—THE CONVENTIONS TO FORM CONSTITUTIONS.—LEGISLATURES THEN
TO ASSEMBLE.—WHOLE MACHINERY OF GOVERNMENT IN MOTION.—REBELS IN
POSSESSION OF STATE GOVERNMENTS.—COLORED MEN EXCLUDED FROM ALL
PARTICIPATION.—SUFFRAGE LEFT TO THE STATES.—PRESIDENT'S PERSONAL
POSITION ON SUFFRAGE.—RECONSTRUCTION SCHEME COMPLETE IN JULY.—THE
PRESIDENT AND THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.—HIS BELIEF THAT THE PARTY WOULD
FOLLOW HIM.—HIS HOSTILITY TO RADICALS.—PRESIDENT DEPENDS ON CONDUCT
OF THE SOUTH.—PUBLIC INTEREST TRANSFERRED TO THAT SECTION.
CHAPTER V.
GREAT OPPORTUNITY GIVEN TO THE SOUTH.—THEIR RESPONSE TO THE PRESIDENT'S TREATMENT.—NORTHERN DESIRE FOR RESTORATION OF THE UNION.— SOUTH DOES NOT RESPOND TO IT.—SOUTHERN RECONSTRUCTION CONVENTIONS.— INCOMPLETE AND ILL-DIGESTED PROCEEDINGS.—REBELS APPLY FOR SEATS IN CONGRESS.—IRON-CLAD OATH IN THEIR WAY.—THEY DENOUNCE IT AS UNCONSTITUTIONAL.—COURSE OF ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS.—SOUTHERN FEELING TOWARDS THE UNION.—THEIR CONVENTIONS EXHIBIT HATRED.—HOSTILE MANIFESTATIONS.—EXPRESSIONS OF PRESS AND STUMP ORATORS.—LEADING REBELS NOMINATED FOR OFFICE.—SOUTH DESCRIBED BY MR. FESSENDEN'S COMMITTEE.—SOUTH MISLED BY NORTHERN DEMOCRACY IN 1865.—FORMER CALAMITY FROM SAME CAUSE IN 1861.—WHAT CONGRESS WOULD DEMAND OF THE SOUTH.—THREE INDISPENSABLE REQUIREMENTS.—SOUTHERN LEGISLATURES DEFIANTLY RESIST.—CHARACTER OF THOSE LEGISLATURES.—PRACTICAL RE-ENACTMENT OF THE SLAVE-CODE.—CRUELTY OF ALABAMA STATUTES.— FRAUDULENT IN THEIR NATURE.—COURSE OF THE CITY OF MOBILE.—STATUTES OF FLORIDA STILL WORSE.—UNFAIR TAXATION.—POLL-TAX OF THREE DOLLARS.— A LIEN UPON THE NEGRO'S LABOR.—OPPRESSION OF THE NEGRO.—ENACTMENTS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.—CHARACTERIZED BY RANK INJUSTICE.—PENAL ENACTMENTS IN MISSISSIPPI.—ATROCIOUS PROVISIONS.—LAWS OF LOUISIANA WORST OF ALL.— CAPITATION TAX IN THE SOUTH.—ITS UNJUST EFFECT.—SCHOOL LAWS.— EDUCATION PRACTICALLY DENIED TO THE NEGRO.-HE IS TAXED FOR THE EDUCATION OF THE WHITES.—DISPROPORTION OF BURDENS PLACED UPON HIM.— REVIEW OF THE BLACK CODE.—SOME DETAILS OF ITS PROVISIONS.—INCREDIBLY CRUEL.—THE SOUTH WITHOUT EXCUSE FOR ITS ENACTMENT.—THEIR DETERMINATION TO VINDICATE SLAVERY.—TO BRING REPROACH ON THE NORTH.— INFLUENCE OF THESE PROCEEDINGS ON MR. SEWARD.—HIS MODE OF SELF- JUSTIFICATION.—SEVERELY CENSURED BY HIS OLD SUPPORTERS.—MISLED BY THE COURSE OF EVENTS.—HIS LOSS OF POPULARITY.
CHAPTER VI.
MEETING OF THE THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS.—RE-ELECTION OF SPEAKER COLFAX.— HIS ADDRESS ON TAKING THE CHAIR.—THADDEUS STEVENS MOVES FOR A COMMITTEE OF RECONSTRUCTION.—RESISTED BY DEMOCRATS.—REBEL CONTESTANTS DENIED ADMISSION TO THE FLOOR.—MUCH FEELING ON THE QUESTION.— PROCEEDINGS OF THE SENATE.—PROPOSITIONS OF MR. SUMNER.—ANNUAL MESSAGE OF THE PRESIDENT.—OUTLINE OF ITS CONTENTS.—APPARENTLY CONSERVATIVE IN TONE.—NOT PERSONALLY AGGRESSIVE.—LEADING MEN OF THE THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS.—DEATH OF BOTH VERMONT SENATORS.—NEW SENATORS.—NEW MEMBERS OF THE HOUSE.—SKETCHES OF PROMINENT SENATORS AND REPRESENTATIVES.— PRESIDENT JOHNSON'S PATRONAGE.—UNPRECEDENTED VOLUME OF IT DUE LARGELY TO THE WAR.—DANGER OF ITS USE AGAINST REPUBLICANS.—APPREHENSIONS OF REPUBLICANS.—RECONSTRUCTION RESOLUTION IN THE SENATE.—AMENDED IN THAT BODY.—CONCURRENCE OF HOUSE.—APPOINTMENT OF COMMITTEE.—STRONG CHARACTER OF ITS MEMBERS.—HOUSE RESOLUTIONS.—DEBATE ON RECONSTRUCTION.—LONGEST DEBATE IN THE HISTORY OF CONGRESS.—OPENED BY MR. STEVENS.—VERY RADICAL IN ITS TONE.—HE SKETCHES CHANGED BASIS OF REPRESENTATION.—GIVES OFFENSE TO THE ADMINISTRATION.—MR. HENRY J. RAYMOND.—HIS REPLY TO MR. STEVENS.—HIS STRONG ATTACHMENT TO MR. SEWARD.—THEORY OF DEAD STATES.—SPEECH OF MR. SPALDING.—MR. SHELLABARGER REPLIES TO MR. RAYMOND.—EXHAUSTIVE SPEECH.—GAVE HIM A LEADING PLACE IN THE HOUSE.—SEVERE ATTACK ON THE SOUTH.—RESOLUTIONS OF MR. VOORHEES SUSTAINING ADMINISTRATION.—SPEECH IN SUPPORT OF THEM. —MR. BINGHAM'S REPLY.—HOUSE REFUSES TO INDORSE THE ADMINISTRATION.— TWO REPUBLICANS JOIN DEMOCRATIC VOTE.—DISAPPOINTMENT OF MR. RAYMOND.— THINKS DEMOCRATIC SUPPORT A MISFORTUNE.—CHARACTER OF MR. RAYMOND.—HIS GREAT ABILITY.—HIS LIFE SHORTENED.—DIED AT FORTY-NINE.
CHAPTER VII.
SENATE DEBATE ON RECONSTRUCTION.—SPEECH OF MR. WILSON.—DENOUNCES THE PRO-SLAVERY STATUTES OF SOUTHERN STATES.—REPLY OF REVERDY JOHNSON.— MR. SUMNER SUSTAINS MR. WILSON.—SPEECHES OF WILLARD SAULSBURY AND MR. COWAN.—EARNEST DEBATE BEFORE HOLIDAYS.—EMBARRASSMENT OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.—THE PRESIDENT'S PRESUMED STRENGTH.—POSITION OF COMMERCIAL MEN.—FIRMNESS OF REPUBLICAN MEMBERS OF CONGRESS.— CONTRASTED WITH CONDUCT OF WHIGS IN 1841.—COVODE AND SCHURZ CALLED FOR.—PRESIDENT'S SPECIAL MESSAGE.—SENDS REPORT OF MR. SCHURZ AND LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GRANT.—CALLS SPECIAL ATTENTION TO GENERAL GRANT'S REPORT.—REPORT APPARENTLY SUSTAINS THE ADMINISTRATION.—MR. SUMNER DENOUNCES PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE.—COMPARES JOHNSON TO PIERCE.—MR. SCHURZ'S REPORT SUBMITTED.—HIS PICTURE OF THE SOUTHERN CONDITION.—HIS RECOMMENDATIONS.—FAVORS NEGRO SUFFRAGE.—HOW MR. SCHURZ WAS SELECTED. —EXTENT OF HIS TOUR IN THE SOUTH.—DIVERGENT CONCLUSIONS OF THE TWO.— SUBSEQUENT CHANGE OF POSITION OF BOTH.—INTERESTING CASE IN THE UNITED- STATES SENATE.—JOHN P. STOCKTON SWORN IN AS SENATOR FROM NEW JERSEY.— PROTEST AGAINST HIS RIGHT TO A SEAT.—JUDICIARY COMMITTEE REPORT IN HIS FAVOR.—DEBATE IN THE SENATE.—MR. CLARKE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.—ABLE SPEECH OF MR. FESSENDEN.—HE EXAMINES THE CONSTITUTIONAL GROUND.—HIS CONCLUSIVE REASONING.—LONG DEBATE.—DECISION AGAINST MR. STOCKTON.— IMPORTANT RESULTS FLOWING FROM IT.—CONGRESS REGULATES TIME AND MANNER OF ELECTING SENATORS.—CHANGE FROM STATE CONTROL TO NATIONAL CONTROL.— ALEXANDER G. CATTELL SUCCEEDS MR. STOCKTON.—DEATH OF MR. WRIGHT.— FREDERICK T. FRELINGHUYSEN SUCCEEDS HIM.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE PRESIDENT OFFENDED.—ADVERSE VOTE IN CONGRESS SURPRISES HIM.—
FREEDMEN'S BUREAU ESTABLISHED.—MAJOR-GENERAL HOWARD APPOINTED
COMMISSIONER.—HIS CHARACTER.—DEFICIENCY OF THE BUREAU.—SUPPLEMENTARY
ACT.—ITS PROVISIONS.—CONFLICT WITH STATE POWER.—LONG DEBATE.—SPEECH
OF IGNATIUS DONNELLY.—THE PRESIDENT'S VETO.—SEVERE ATTACK UPON THE
POLICY.—EXPENSE OF THE BUREAU.—SENATE FAILS TO PASS BILL OVER VETO.—
ANOTHER BILL TO SAME EFFECT PASSED.—MORE GUARDED IN ITS PROVISIONS.—
PRESIDENT VETOES THE SECOND BILL.—SENATE AND HOUSE PASS IT OVER THE
VETO.—UNPOPULARITY OF THE MEASURE.—SENATOR TRUMBULL INTRODUCES CIVIL
RIGHTS BILL.—ITS PROVISIONS.—RADICAL IN THEIR EFFECT.—SPEECH OF
REVERDY JOHNSON.—DEBATE IN THE HOUSE.—PRESIDENT VETOES THE BILL.—
MAKES ELABORATE ARGUMENT AGAINST IT.—EXCITING DEBATE ON VETO.—MR.
TRUMBULL'S SPEECH.—SEVERE REVIEW OF PRESIDENT'S COURSE.—EXCITING
SPEECH OF MR. WADE.—ILLNESS OF MR. WRIGHT.—SEVERE REMARKS OF MR.
McDOUGAL AND MR. GUTHRIE.—DEBATE IN THE HOUSE.—BOTH BRANCHES PASS
BILL OVER VETO.—RADICAL CHARACTER OF THE MEASURE.—RELATIONS OF
PRESIDENT AND CONGRESS.—OPENLY HOSTILE.—POPULAR MEETING IN
WASHINGTON.—PRESIDENT'S ACTION APPROVED.—PRESIDENT' SPEECH 22D OF
FEBRUARY.—ITS UNDIGNIFIED AND VIOLENT CHARACTER.—CALLS MEN BY NAME.—
UNFAVORABLE IMPRESSION UPON THE COUNTRY.—THE PRESIDENT LOSING GROUND.
—REPUBLICANS IN CONGRESS ANXIOUS.—EXCITING PERIOD.—SENATOR LANE OF
KANSAS.—HIS POLITICAL DEFECTION.—HIS SUICIDE.—PERSONAL HISTORY.—HIS
PUBLIC SERVICES.—SUICIDE OF PRESTON KING.—SUPPOSED REASONS FOR THE ACT.
CHAPTER IX.
CONTEST BETWEEN PRESIDENT AND CONGRESS.—POINTS OF DIFFERENCE.—WHAT CONGRESS INSISTED ON.—REQUIRED DEFINITION OF AMERICAN CITIZENSHIP.— POLITICAL DISABILITIES.—THE PUBLIC CREDIT.—PROTECTION OF NATIONAL PENSIONS.—REPUDIATION OF REBEL DEBT.—POSSIBLE PAYMENT FOR SLAVES.— APPREHENSIONS OF CAPITALISTS.—DANGER HANGING OVER NATIONAL TREASURY.— AMENDMENTS TO THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION.—SHOULD REBEL STATES PARTICIPATE.—MR. SEWARD'S VIEW.—MR. THADDEUS STEVENS'S VIEW.— PROCEEDINGS OF RECONSTRUCTION COMMITTEE.—PROPOSED BASES OF REPRESENTATION.—AMENDMENT PROPOSED BY MR. SPALDING.—BY MR. BLAINE.— BY MR. CONKLING.—SPEECH OF MR. JENCKES OF RHODE ISLAND.—BY MR. BAKER AND MR. INGERSOLL OF ILLINOIS.—BY MR. SHELLABARGER.—BY MR. PIKE OF MAINE.—MR. SCHENCK'S AMENDMENT.—HOUSE ADOPTS AMENDMENT.—OPPOSED IN THE SENATE.—LONG SPEECH OF MR. SUMNER.—REPLY OF MR. FESSENDEN.— SPEECH OF SENATOR HENDERSON.—HIS RADICAL PROPOSITION.—SENATE DEFEATS HOUSE AMENDMENT.—NEW PROPOSITION FROM THE RECONSTRUCTION COMMITTEE.— FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT TO THE CONSTITUTION PROPOSED.—ITS ORIGINAL FORM. —DEBATE IN THE HOUSE.—PROCEEDINGS IN THE SENATE.—LONG DEBATE.— SPEECHES BY MR. HOWARD, MR. HENDRICKS, MR. SHERMAN, MR. REVERDY JOHNSON, MR. DOOLITTLE.—FINAL ADOPTION OF THE FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT BY BOTH BRANCHES.—NOTIFICATION TO THE STATES JUNE 16.—PROMPT ADOPTION BY TENNESSEE.—TENNESSEE RE-ADMITTED TO REPRESENTATION.—ACTION OF SENATE AND HOUSE THEREON.—REASONS ASSIGNED FOR PASSING THE BILL.—PRESIDENT APPROVES THE BILL, BUT DISAPPROVES THE REASONS FOR ITS PASSAGE.—HIS INGENIOUS CENSURE OF CONGRESS.—ADJOURNMENT OF CONGRESS.—IMPENDING POLITICAL CONTEST.—STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE PRESIDENT AND CONGRESS.
CHAPTER X.
A CABINET CRISIS.—RESIGNATION OF WILLIAM DENNISON, POSTMASTER-GENERAL, JAMES SPEED, ATTORNEY-GENERAL, AND JAMES HARLAN, SECRETARY OF THE INTERIOR.—SUCCEEDED RESPECTIVELY BY ALEXANDER W. RANDALL, HENRY STANBURY, AND ORVILLE H. BROWNING.—POLITICAL CAMPAIGN OF 1866.—FOUR NATIONAL CONVENTIONS.—TWO FAVORING THE PRESIDENT; TWO ADVERSE.— PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION, AUGUST 14, FAVORING THE PRESIDENT.—IMPRESSIVE IN NUMBERS, DISTINGUISHED IN DELEGATES.—PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION OF SEPTEMBER 13.—SOUTHERN LOYALISTS AND NORTHERN SYMPATHIZERS.—LIST OF PROMINENT MEN IN ATTENDANCE.—MARKED EFFECT OF ITS PROCEEDINGS.— SPEECH OF HONORABLE JAMES SPEED.—ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE.—WRITTEN BY THE HONORABLE J. A. J. CRESWELL.—SOLDIERS' CONVENTION AT CLEVELAND.— FAVORABLE TO THE PRESIDENT.—SPEECH OF GENERAL EWING.—CONVENTION PRINCIPALLY DEMOCRATIC IN MEMBERSHIP.—ITS PROCEEDINGS INEFFECTIVE.— SOLDIERS' CONVENTION AT PITTSBURG.—HOSTILE TO PRESIDENT.—GENERAL COX PRESIDES.—DISTINGUISHED OFFICERS PRESENT.—TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND SOLDIERS PRESENT.—GREAT EFFECT FOLLOWED IT IN THE COUNTRY.—FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT THE RALLYING-POINT.—POLITICAL EVENTS OF THE SUMMER.—HOSTILE TO PRESIDENT.—NEW-ORLEANS RIOT OF JULY 30.—GREAT SLAUGHTER.—REBEL OFFICERS IN LOUISIANA RESPONSIBLE.—INVESTIGATED BY CONGRESS.—ALSO BY MILITARY AUTHORITIES.—REPORTS SUBSTANTIALLY AGREE.—CENSURE OF THE PRESIDENT.—RESULT HURTFUL TO HIS ADMINISTRATION.—HIS FAMOUS TOUR.— INJURIOUS TO HIS ADMINISTRATION.—REPUBLICANS VICTORIOUS IN ELECTIONS THROUGHOUT THE NORTH.—DEMOCRATS VICTORIOUS THROUGHOUT THE SOUTH.— HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES REPUBLICAN BY THREE TO ONE.—PRESIDENT DEPRESSED.—IMPORTANCE OF THE ELECTIONS OF 1866.—NEGRO SUFFRAGE.—THE DIFFICULTY OF IMPOSING IT ON THE SOUTH.—FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT THE TEST FOR RECONSTRUCTION.
CHAPTER XI.
SECOND SESSION THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS.—PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE.—REPEATS THE FORMER RECOMMENDATIONS.—MISCHIEVOUS EFFECT PRODUCED IN THE SOUTH. —THE TEN CONFEDERATES STATES VOTE ON THE FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT.— REJECTED BY EVERY ONE.—DEFIANCE TO CONGRESS.—MADNESS OF THE SOUTHERN LEADERS.—DETERMINATION OF THE NORTH.—NEW PLAN OF RECONSTRUCTION.— BILL REPORTED BY MR. STEVENS.—SOUTH DIVIDED INTO MILITARY DISTRICTS.— BILL ELABORATELY DEBATED.—VIEWS OF LEADING MEMBERS.—EXTRACTS FROM SPEECHES.—BLAINE AMENDMENT.—DEBATED IN THE HOUSE.—OPPOSED BY MR. STEVENS.—REJECTED IN THE HOUSE.—ADOPTED IN DIFFERENT FORM IN THE SENATE.—FINALLY INCORPORATED IN RECONSTRUCTION BILL.—PRESIDENT VETOES THE BILL.—PASSED OVER HIS VETO.—CHARACTER OF THE MEASURE.—THE SOUTH FORCES THE ADOPTION OF NEGRO SUFFRAGE.—NOT CONTEMPLATED ORIGINALLY BY THE NORTH.—CHARACTER OF THE STRUGGLE.—EXECUTIVE PATRONAGE.— PRESIDENT'S POLICY TO BE SUSTAINED BY IT.—THE POWER OF REMOVAL.—EARLY DECISION OF THE GOVERNMENT.—VIEWS OF MR. MADISON AND MR. WEBSTER.—OF HAMILTON AND OF WASHINGTON.—REPUBLICAN LEADERS DETERMINED TO CURTAIL THE POWER.—MR. WILLIAMS INTRODUCES TENURE OF OFFICE BILL.—SPEECHES OF EDMUNDS, HOWE, AND OTHERS.—PRESIDENT VETOES THE BILL.—PASSED OVER HIS VETO.—DOUBTFUL CHARACTER OF THE MEASURE.—REPUBLICAN DISTRUST OF IT.—NEW STATES IN THE NORTH-WEST.—MR. LINCOLN'S POLICY SHOWN IN THE CASE OF NEVADA.—INCREASE OF FREE TERRITORIES.—NEBRASKA AND COLORADO APPLY FOR ADMISSION.—PRESIDENT JOHNSON VETOES THE BILL.—ADMISSION OF COLORADO PREVENTED.—POWER OF PARDON AND AMNESTY BY PROCLAMATION TAKEN FROM THE PRESIDENT.—SCANDALS REPORTED.
CHAPTER XII.
MEETING OF FORTIETH CONGRESS, MARCH 4TH, 1867.—CONSPICUOUS CHANGES IN SENATE AND HOUSE.—CAMERON, CONKLING, MORTON, IN SENATE.—BUTLER, PETERS, BECK, IN HOUSE.—MR. JAMES BROOKS OBJECTS TO THE ORGANIZATION OF THE HOUSE.—SEVENTEEN STATES ASSENT.—THE CLERK DECLINES TO RECEIVE HIS MOTION.—THIRD ELECTION OF MR. COLFAX AS SPEAKER.—SUPPLEMENTARY RECONSTRUCTION ACT.—THE PRESIDENT'S PROMPT VETO.—PASSED OVER HIS OBJECTIONS.—CONGRESS ADJOURNS TO JULY 3D.—SECOND SUPPLEMENTARY ACT OF RECONSTRUCTION.—ANOTHER VETO.—OMINOUS WORDS FROM THE PRESIDENT.— REPUBLICANS DISQUIETED.—CONGRESS ADJOURNS TO NOVEMBER.—THE SOUTH PLACED UNDER MILITARY GOVERNMENT.—PRACTICAL RECONSTRUCTION.— CONVENTIONS IN THE SOUTHERN STATES.—CONSTITUTIONS SUBMITTED TO THE PEOPLE.—SECOND SESSION FORTIETH CONGRESS.—AGGRESSIVE MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT.—SOUTHERN STATES RE-ADMITTED TO REPRESENTATION.—ANOTHER VETO FROM THE PRESIDENT.—RECONSTRUCTION CONTEST PRACTICALLY ENDED.— REPRESENTATIVES AND SENATORS FROM THE SOUTH.—MISTAKES OF FORMER SLAVE-HOLDERS.—UNFORTUNATE BLUNDERS.—PECULIAR MENTAL QUALITIES OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON.—THE VETO POWER.—ITS INFREQUENT USE BY EARLIER PRESIDENTS.—EXAMPLE OF JACKSON.—FOLLOWED BY HIS SUCCESSORS.— DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DEMOCRATIC AND WHIG PRESIDENTS.—MR. TYLER AND MR. JOHNSON.—RATIFICATION OF THE FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT.—PROCLAIMED BY MR. SEWARD.—IMPORTANCE OF ITS PROVISIONS.—SINGULAR HOSTILITY OF THE DEMOCRATS.—A NEW CHARTER OF FREEDOM.—SWEEPS AWAY OPPRESSION AND EVERY DENIAL OF JUSTICE.—CREDIT OF IT CONCEDED TO THE REPUBLICANS.
CHAPTER XIII.
GOVERNMENT FINANCES AFTER THE WAR.—DIFFICULTIES OF THE SITUATION.—
INTREPIDITY OF CONGRESS.—ITS GREAT TASK.—$600,000,000 BILL.—SUMMARY
OF PUBLIC DEBT, DECEMBER, 1865.—FUNDED AND FLOATING OBLIGATIONS.—
AGGREGATE DEBT, JANUARY 1, 1866, $2,730,491,745.—$1,600,000,000
FLOATING OBLIGATIONS.—MR. McCULLOCH'S ESTIMATES.—HIS FINANCIAL
POLICY.—CONTRACTION THE LEADING FEATURE.—WAYS AND MEANS COMMITTEE
REPORT A FUNDING BILL.—HOUSE DEBATES THEREON.—SENATE DEBATE.—FINAL
PASSAGE.—REVENUE LAWS IN CONGRESS.—CONTRASTED WITH BRITISH
PARLIAMENT.—LARGE REDUCTION OF INTERNAL TAXES.—SECOND REDUCTION OF
INTERNAL TAXES.—CONTRACTION POLICY OPPRESSIVE.—INDIRECT RELIEF.—
HOSTILITY RAPIDLY INCREASES.—PROGRESS OF FUNDING BILL.—REPEAL OF
CONTRACTION BILL.—ITS EVIL EFFECTS.—FURTHER REDUCTION OF INTERNAL
TAXES.—FINANCIAL ACHIEVEMENTS OF THE GOVERNMENT.—LARGE REDUCTION OF
NATIONAL DEBT.—VALUABLE TREASURY OFFICIALS.—PURCHASE OF ALASKA.—
PRICE, $7,200,000 IN GOLD COIN.—PURCHASE AT FIRST UNPOPULAR.—
RESISTANCE IN THE HOUSE.—MR. WASHBURNE AND GENERAL BUTLER OPPOSE.—
TREATY ABLY SUSTAINED BY GENERAL BANKS.—INTERESTING DEBATE.—MANY
PARTICIPANTS.—POWER OF THE HOUSE RESPECTING TREATIES.—CHRONIC
CONTROVERSY.—THE BILL PASSED.—OPINION OF JUDGE McLEAN.—OF MR.
JEFFERSON.—EXTENT OF ALASKA.—VALUE OF IT.—ITS ELEMENTS OF WEALTH.—
FIRST NORTHERN TERRITORY ACQUIRED BY THE UNITED STATES.—NEGOTIATION
ABLY CONDUCTED BY MR. SEWARD.
CHAPTER XIV.
IMPEACHMENT OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON.—FIRST MOVEMENT THERETO.—MR.
ASHLEY'S GRAVE CHARGES.—GENERAL GRANT'S IMPORTANT TESTIMONY.—
JUDICIARY COMMITTEE DIVIDE.—IMPEACHMENT DEFEATED, DECEMBER, 1867.—
ANALYSIS OF VOTE.—SUSPENSION OF MR. STANTON.—TENURE-OF-OFFICE LAW.—
SENATE DISAPPROVES MR. STANTON'S SUSPENSION.—MR. STANTON RESTORED AS
SECRETARY OF WAR.—AN UNWELCOME CABINET OFFICER.—PREVIOUS VIEWS OF
LEADING STATESMEN.—PRESIDENT'S ANOMALOUS SITUATION.—HE REMOVES MR.
STANTON.—APPOINTS LORENZO THOMAS Ad Interim.—SENATE CONDEMNS THE
PRESIDENT'S COURSE.—IMPEACHMENT MOVED IN THE HOUSE.—EXCITING DEBATE.
—IMPEACHMENT CARRIED.—MANAGERS APPOINTED.—ARTICLES OF IMPEACHMENT
PRESENTED TO THE SENATE.—THOMAS EWING NOMINATED FOR SECRETARY OF WAR.
—NOT CONFIRMED.—COURT OF IMPEACHMENT.—THE CHIEF JUSTICE.—THE
PRESIDENT'S COUNSEL.—JUDGE CURTIS.—MR. EVARTS.—MR. GROESBECK.—THE
PRESIDENT'S ANSWER.—GENERAL BUTLER'S ARGUMENT.—TESTIMONY PRESENTED BY
MANAGERS.—ARGUMENT OF JUDGE CURTIS.—THE PRESIDENT'S WITNESSES.—
REJECTION OF TESTIMONY BY SENATE.—TESTIMONY CONCLUDED.—ARGUMENT OF
GENERAL LOGAN.—OF MR. BOUTWELL.—OF MR. NELSON.—OF MR. GROESBECK.—
OF THADDEUS STEVENS.—OF THOMAS WILLIAMS.—OF MR. EVARTS.—OF MR.
STANBERY.—OF MR. BINGHAM.—TWENTY-NINE SENATORS FILE THEIR OPINIONS.—
FIRST VOTE ON LAST ARTICLE.—GENERAL INTEREST AND EXCITEMENT.—THE
RESULT.—ACQUITTAL OF PRESIDENT.—VIEWS OF REPUBLICANS.—CONDEMNATION
OF CERTAIN SENATORS.—SUBSEQUENT CHANGE OF OPINION.—THE PRESIDENT
UNWISELY IMPEACHED.—ACTUAL OFFENSES OF THE PRESIDENT.—THEIR GRAVITY.
—IMPEACHED ON OTHER GROUNDS.—THE REAL TEST.—NATURE OF AN IMPEACHABLE
OFFENSE.—LAWYERS DIFFER.—EFFECT ON MR. STANTON.—HIS POLITICAL
ATTITUDE.—HIS RESIGNATION.—APPOINTED SUPREME JUSTICE.—HIS DEATH.—
GENERAL SCHOFIELD SECRETARY OF WAR.—MR. EVARTS ATTORNEY-GENERAL.
CHAPTER XV.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1868.—REPUBLICAN NATIONAL CONVENTION AT CHICAGO.—GENERAL GRANT THE CLEARLY INDICATED CANDIDATE OF HIS PARTY.— CONTEST FOR THE VICE-PRESIDENCY.—WADE, COLFAX, FENTON, WILSON, CURTIN. —SPIRITED BALLOTING.—COLFAX NOMINATED.—PLATFORM.—DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION.—MEETS IN NEW YORK, JULY 4.—NUMEROUS CANDIDATES. —GEORGE H. PENDLETON MOST PROMINENT.—AN ORGANIZED MOVEMENT FOR CHIEF JUSTICE CHASE.—HIS ALLIANCE WITH THE DEMOCRACY.—HIS EAGERNESS FOR THE NOMINATION.—HIS FRIENDLY RELATIONS WITH VALLANDINGHAM.—PRESIDENT JOHNSON.—SEEKS DEMOCRATIC INDORSEMENT.—MR. AUGUST BELMONT'S OPENING SPEECH.—HORATIO SEYMOUR PRESIDENT OF THE CONVENTION.—HIS ARRAIGNMENT OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.—CHARACTER OF HIS MIND.—THE DEMOCRATIC PLATFORM.—FAVORS PAYING THE PUBLIC DEBT IN PAPER MONEY.—DECLARES THE RECONSTRUCTION ACTS TO BE USURPATIONS.—WADE HAMPTON'S PROMINENCE.— VARIOUS NAMES PRESENTED FOR THE PRESIDENCY.—VARYING FORTUNES OF CANDIDATES.—SEYMOUR NOMINATED.—THE VICE-PRESIDENCY.—FRANK BLAIR NOMINATED BY ACCLAMATION.—AGGRESSIVE CAMPAIGN OF BOTH SIDES.—MR. SEYMOUR'S POPULAR TOUR.—FINAL RESULT.—GENERAL GRANT'S ELECTION.
CHAPTER XVI.
REPUBLICAN VICTORY OF 1868 ANALYZED.—MR. SEYMOUR'S STRENGTH UNEXPECTEDLY GREAT.—ASTOUNDING DEFECTION OF CERTAIN STATES.— DEMOCRATIC VICTORY IN NEW YORK, NEW JERSEY, AND OREGON.—EVIL OMENS.— DEMOCRATIC VICTORY IN LOUISIANA.—WON BY FRAUD AND VIOLENCE.—THE FIGURES EXAMINED.—ACTION OF CONGRESS THEREON.—FRAUD SUSPECTED IN GEORGIA.—DEMOCRATIC DUTY UNPERFORMED.—IMPARTIAL SUFFRAGE.—VARIOUS PROPOSITIONS.—AMENDMENT TO THE CONSTITUTION.—MR. HENDERSON OF MISSOURI.—MR. STEWART OF NEVADA.—MR. GARRETT DAVIS.—PROCEEDINGS IN THE HOUSE.—SPEECH OF MR. BOUTWELL.—ANSWERED BY MR. BECK AND MR. ELDRIDGE.—PASSAGE OF AMENDMENT BY HOUSE.—ACTION THEREON IN SENATE.— AMENDMENT OF MR. WILSON.—PROPOSITION OF MR. MORTON AND MR. BUCKALEW.— DISAGREEMENT OF THE TWO BRANCHES.—CONFERENCE COMMITTEE.—FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT REPORTED.—PUBLIC OPINION IN THE UNITED STATES.—FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT NOW MODIFIED.—ITS EFFECT AND POTENCY LESSENED.—ITS FAILURE TO REMOVE EVILS.—GREAT VALUE OF THE THREE AMENDMENTS.—THEIR ASSURED ENFORCEMENT.—HONOR TO THEIR AUTHORS.—LESSON TAUGHT BY MR. LINCOLN.— ITS SIGNIFICANCE.
CHAPTER XVII.
INAUGURATION OF GENERAL GRANT FOR FIRST TERM.—POPULAR ENTHUSIASM.— HIS INAUGURAL ADDRESS.—APPROVES FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT.—ANNOUNCEMENT OF HIS CABINET.—GENERAL SURPRISE.—E. B. WASHBURNE.—JACOB D. COX.—E. ROCKWOOD HOAR.—JOHN A. J. CRESWELL.—ALEXANDER T. STEWART.— INELIGIBLE.—NAME WITHDRAWN.—GEORGE S. BOUTWELL APPOINTED.—ADOLPH E. BORIE.—HAMILTON FISH.—GEORGE M. ROBESON.—GENERAL SCHOFIELD.—GENERAL RAWLINS.—GENERAL BELKNAP.—GENERAL OF THE ARMY.—THE SUCCESSION.— SHERMAN APPOINTED.—LIEUTENANT-GENERAL.—SHERIDAN APPOINTED.—HALLECK. —MEADE.—THOMAS.—HANCOCK.—CONGRESS CONVENES.—ELECTION OF SPEAKER.— MR. BLAINE CHOSEN.—MR. KERR THE DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE.—VARIOUS MEMBERS.—MR. WHEELER.—MR. POTTER.—JUDGE NOAH DAVIS.—GENERAL SLOCUM. —MR. HALE.—THOMAS FITCH.—THE PENNSYLVANIA DELEGATION.—MR. S. S. COX.—MR. GEORGE F. HOAR.—NEW ERA POLITICALLY UNDER PRESIDENT GRANT.— THE OPPOSITION PARTY IN THE HOUSE.—ITS STRONG LEADERS.—THEIR MANLY CHARACTER.
CHAPTER XVIII.
SENATE IN THE FORTY-FIRST CONGRESS.—HANNIBAL HAMLIN ELECTED FOR THE FOURTH TERM.—MATTHEW H. CARPENTER.—HIS DOUBLE LOAD OF WORK.—CARL SCHURZ.—ALLEN G. THURMAN.—WILLIAM G. BROWNLOW.—THOMAS FRANCIS BAYARD.—GOVERNOR FENTON.—WILLIAM A. BUCKINGHAM.—DANIEL D. PRATT.— JOHN SCOTT.—JOHN P. STOCKTON.—SOUTHERN REPRESENTATION COMPLETE.— CHARACTER OF SENATORS AND REPRESENTATIVES.—UNJUST ABUSE.—SOUTHERN RESISTANCE TO CARPET-BAG RULE.—ADMISSION OF A COLORED SENATOR.—HIRAM B. REVELS OF MISSISSIPPI.—SUCCESSOR TO JEFFERSON DAVIS.—THE MORAL OF IT.—PRESIDENT GRANT AND THE TENURE-OF-OFFICE ACT.—HOUSE VOTES TO REPEAL THE ACT.—DELAY IN SENATE.—POSITION OF MR. TRUMBULL, MR. EDMUNDS, AND MR. SCHURZ.—DISAGREEMENT BETWEEN SENATE AND HOUSE.— CONFERENCE COMMITTEE.—PRACTICAL REPEAL OF THE ACT.—DEATH OF WILLIAM PITT FESSENDEN.—HIS CHARACTER.
CHAPTER XIX.
EVENTS OF INTEREST.—IN DIPLOMACY AND RECONSTRUCTION.—THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC.—ANNEXATION TREATY.—DEFEATED BY SENATE.—PRESIDENT GRANT RENEWS THE EFFORT.—COMMISSION SENT TO SAN DOMINGO.—THEIR REPORT.— OPPOSITION OF MR. SUMNER.—THE PRESIDENT AND MR. SUMNER—RECONSTRUCTION MEASURES COMPLETED.—VIRGINIA, MISSISSIPPI AND TEXAS.—RE-ADMITTED TO REPRESENTATION.—PECULIAR CASE OF GEORGIA.—HER RECONSTRUCTION POSTPONED.—LAST STATE RE-ADMITTED TO REPRESENTATION.—FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT.—ADOPTED.—-PROCLAIMED MARCH 30, 1870.—PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE. —COURSE OF THE SOUTHERN STATES.—HOSTILITY TO RECONSTRUCTION GOVERNMENTS.—DETERMINATION TO BREAK THEM DOWN.—MILITARY INTERPOSITION OF THE GOVERNMENT.—KU-KLUX-KLANS.—VIOLENCE IN THE SOUTH.—LEGISLATION TO PREVENT IT.—DIFFICULT TASK.—MOTIVE INSPIRING THE SOUTH.—CARPET- BAG IMMIGRATION.—COTTON-REARING ORIGINAL MOTIVE.—POLITICAL CONSEQUENCE.—DISABILITIES IN THE SOUTH.—CAUSE THEREOF.— RESPONSIBILITY OF SOUTHERN STATES.—ORIGINAL MISTAKE OF THE SOUTH—THE AIMS OF THE NORTH.
CHAPTER XX.
RESENTMENT AGAINST ENGLAND.—POPULAR FEELING IN THE UNITED STATES.— CONDUCT OF THE PALMERSTON MINISTRY.—HOSTILE SPEECHES IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.—MR. ROEBUCK.—LORD ROBERT CECIL.—CONDUCT OF THE TORIES.—OF THE LIBERALS.—CRITICISMS OF THE BRITISH PRESS.—SOUTH COMPARED WITH IRELAND.—UNITED STATES DEMANDS COMPENSATION.—REFUSED BY ENGLAND.— NEGOTIATIONS.—JOHNSON-CLARENDON TREATY.—REJECTED BY SENATE.— CHARACTER OF TREATY.—SPEECH OF MR. SUMNER.—POSITION OF PRESIDENT GRANT.—NEGOTIATION CLOSED.—ENGLAND ASKS THAT IT BE RE-OPENED.—JOINT HIGH COMMISSION.—ITS DELIBERATIONS.—ITS BASIS OF SETTLEMENT.—GENEVA AWARD.—PRIVATE CLAIMS ADJUSTED.—THE SAN JUAN QUESTION.—ITS FINAL SETTLEMENT.—HON. GEORGE BANCROFT.
CHAPTER XXI.
OPENING FORTY-SECOND CONGRESS.—DEPOSITION OF CHARLES SUMNER FROM CHAIRMANSHIP OF FOREIGN RELATIONS.—EXCITING DEBATE.—GRAVE INJUSTICE TO MR. SUMNER.—DEMOCRATIC SENATORS OPPOSE THE ACT.—NEW SENATORS.— MATT W. RANSOM.—FRANK P. BLAIR, JUN.—HENRY G. DAVIS—POWELL CLAYTON. —ORGANIZATION OF THE HOUSE.—MR. BLAINE RE-ELECTED SPEAKER.—DEMOCRATS CONTROL MORE THEN ONE-THIRD OF HOUSE.—VALUABLE ACCESSIONS TO MEMBERSHIP.—POLITICAL DISABILITIES.—REMOVED FROM INDIVIDUALS.— GENERAL AMNESTY PROCLAIMED.—CIVIL-RIGHTS BILL.—COURSE OF COLORED MEMBERS OF THE HOUSE.—THEIR JUSTICE AND MAGNANIMITY.
CHAPTER XXII.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1872.—LIBERAL REPUBLICAN MOVEMENT.—ITS ORIGIN.—DIVISION IN MISSOURI.—GRATZ BROWN, BLAIR, SCHURZ.—CONTEST IN NEW YORK.—GREELEY, FENTON, CONKLING.—CONKLING'S TRIUMPH.—LIBERAL REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.—MEETS AT CINCINNATI.—NOMINATION OF MR. GREELEY.—ADJUSTMENT OF TARIFF ISSUES.—CHAGRIN OF FREE-TRADERS AND DEMOCRATS.—MR. GREELEY'S LETTER OF ACCEPTANCE.—NATIONAL REPUBLICAN CONVENTION.—MEETS IN PHILADELPHIA.—RENOMINATES GENERAL GRANT.— HENRY WILSON NOMINATED FOR VICE-PRESIDENT.—DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION.—MEETS IN BALTIMORE.—ENDORSES GREELEY AND BROWN.—ACCEPTS THE CINCINNATI PLATFORM.—MR. GREELEY'S LETTER OF ACCEPTANCE.—CONTEST BETWEEN GRANT AND GREELEY.—CHARACTER OF MR. GREELEY.—HIS STRENGTH AND HIS WEAKNESS.—NORTH CAROLINA ELECTION.—CLAIMED BY BOTH SIDES.— FAVORABLE TO REPUBLICANS.—SEPTEMBER ELECTIONS.—REPUBLICAN GAINS.— NOMINATION OF O'CONNOR AND ADAMS.—MR. GREELEY'S WESTERN TOUR.—OCTOBER ELECTIONS.—STRONG NOMINATION FOR STATE OFFICERS.—ENORMOUS MAJORITIES FOR GENERAL GRANT.—HIS OVERWHELMING ELECTION.—DEATH OF MR. GREELEY.
CHAPTER XXIII.
PRESIDENT GRANT'S SECOND INAUGURATION.—COMPLAINS OF PARTISAN ABUSE.— ORGANIZATION OF FORTY-THIRD CONGRESS.—PROMINENT MEMBERS OF SENATE AND HOUSE.—DEATH OF CHARLES SUMNER.—IMPRESSIVE FUNERAL CEREMONIES.— SINGULAR REMINISCENCE BY MR. DAVIS.—SPEECH BY MR. LAMAR.—CAREER OF ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS.—GOVERNMENT OF DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA.—RADICAL CHANGE.—GREAT IMPROVEMENT.—ALEXANDER R. SHEPHERD.—REPUBLICAN REVERSE, 1874.—DEMOCRATIC HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES.—MICHAEL C. KERR, SPEAKER.—MEMBERS OF SENATE AND HOUSE.—RADICAL CHANGES.—ANDREW JOHNSON IN THE SENATE.—HIS SPEECH.—DIES AT HIS HOME IN TENNESSEE.— CONDITION OF THE SOUTH.—AMNESTY.—AMENDMENT TO EXCEPT JEFFERSON DAVIS. —BILL DEFEATED.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE PUBLIC CREDIT.—FIRST LAW ENACTED UNDER PRESIDENT GRANT.— DEMOCRATIC OPPOSITION.—THURMAN, GARRETT DAVIS, BAYARD.—PRESIDENT GRANT'S FIRST MESSAGE.—FUNDING BILLS DISCUSSED.—ACTION OF BOTH HOUSES.—DEBATES.—FURTHER REDUCTION OF REVENUE.—PREMIUM ON GOLD.— MEETING OF FORTY-SECOND CONGRESS.—FINANCIAL DEBATES.—FINANCIAL PANIC OF 1873.—FORTY-THIRD CONGRESS MEETS.—PRESIDENT GRANT'S POSITION.— ABOLITION OF MOIETIES.—SPECIE PAYMENTS.—RESUMPTION ACT.—SPECIAL MESSAGE OF THE PRESIDENT.—ADMISSION OF COLORADO.—DEATH OF SPEAKER KERR.—SAMUEL J. RANDALL HIS SUCCESSOR.
CHAPTER XXV.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1876.—REPUBLICAN CANDIDATES FOR NOMINATION.— CONVENTION AT CINCINNATI, JUNE 14, 1876.—REPUBLICAN PLATFORM.— BALLOTING.—NOMINATION OF HAYES AND WHEELER.—DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION.—SAMUEL J. TILDEN THE PRINCIPAL CANDIDATE.—HIS CAREER.— OTHER DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATES.—TILDEN AND HENDRICKS NOMINATED.— DEMOCRATIC PLATFORM.—THE CANVASS.—THE RESULT.—DOUBTFUL STATE.— POPULAR EXCITEMENT.—DISPUTE IN LOUISIANA, FLORIDA, SOUTH CAROLINA.— PRESIDENT GRANT'S COURSE.—A PORTENTOUS QUESTION.—ELECTORAL COMMISSION.—MEMBERS.—QUESTIONS BEFORE THEM.—DECISION.—HAYES AND WHEELER ELECTED.—SUBSEQUENT INVESTIGATION.—POTTER COMMISSION.— DISCOVERY OF TELEGRAMS.—ATTEMPTS AT BRIBERY IN THE SOUTH.
CHAPTER XXVI.
INAUGURATION OF PRESIDENT HAYES.—HIS SOUTHERN POLICY.—APPOINTMENT OF HIS CABINET.—ORGANIZATION OF SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES.—RE- ELECTION OF SPEAKER RANDALL.—SILVER DISCUSSION.—COINAGE OF SILVER DOLLAR.—REPORT OF SILVER COMMISSION.—DISCUSSION ON SILVER QUESTION.— PRODUCT OF SILVER AND GOLD.—THIRTY-TWO YEARS OF EACH.—NAVIGATION INTERESTS.—LOSS OF GROUND BY THE UNITED STATES.—REASON THEREFOR.— HOW CAN IT BE REGAINED?
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE QUESTION OF THE FISHERIES.—ORIGIN OF AMERICAN RIGHTS.—EARLY DISPUTES.—TREATY OF 1782.—TREATY OF GHENT.—TREATY OF 1818.— RECIPROCITY TREATY.—JOINT HIGH COMMISSION.—FISHERIES QUESTION TO BE ARBITRATED.—SELECTION OF ARBITRATORS.—NEGOTIATION FOR RECIPROCITY TREATY.—THE HALIFAX AWARD.—ITS LARGE AMOUNT.—DISSATISFACTION.— ACTION OF SENATE.—CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT.—MR. EVARTS AND LORD SALISBURY.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FORTY-SIXTH CONGRESS.—EXTRA SESSION.—ORGANIZATION OF HOUSE.—OF SENATE.—LEADING MEN IN EACH.—DEMOCRATIC GAIN IN INFLUENCE.—CONTROL OF BOTH SENATE AND HOUSE.—DEATH OF SENATOR CHANDLER.—QUESTION OF CIVIL SERVICE REFORM.—THE PATRONAGE OF THE GOVERNMENT.—ITS ILLEGITIMATE INFLUENCE.—THE QUESTION OF CHINESE LABOR.—LEGISLATION THEREON.
CHAPTER XXIX.
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1880.—THIRD TERM SUGGESTED.—CHICAGO CONVENTION.—EXCITING CONTEST.—MANY BALLOTINGS.—NOMINATION OF GENERAL GARFIELD.—DEMOCRATIC CONVENTION.—NOMINATION OF GENERAL HANCOCK.—THE CONTEST.—THE RESULT.—THE SOLID SOUTH.—ITS MEANING.—ITS EFFECT.—ITS END.—REVIEW OF THE TWENTY YEARS.—PROGRESS OF THE PEOPLE.—MAJESTY OF THE REPUBLIC.
LIST OF STEEL PORTRAITS
ULYSSES S. GRANT ANDREW JOHNSON HANNIBAL HAMLIN SCHUYLER COLFAX HENRY WILSON WILLIAM A. WHEELER ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS SAMUEL J. RANDALL LUCIUS Q. C. LAMAR THOMAS F. BAYARD BENJAMIN H. HILL AUGUSTUS H. GARLAND JAMES B. BECK B. K. BRUCE H. R. REVELS JAMES T. RAPIER JOHN R. LYNCH J. H. RAINEY ALLEN G. THURMAN TIMOTHY O. HOWE BENJAMIN F. BUTLER ROSCOE CONKLING GEORGE P. EDMUNDS MATTHEW HALE CARPENTER WILLIAM A. BUCKINGHAM RUTHERFORD B. HAYES JAMES A. GARFIELD
TWENTY YEARS OF CONGRESS
CHAPTER I.
Abraham Lincoln expired at twenty-two minutes after seven o'clock on the morning of April 15, 1865. Three hours later, in the presence of all the members of the Cabinet except Mr. Seward who lay wounded and bleeding in his own home, the oath of office, as President of the United States, was administered to Andrew Johnson by Chief Justice Chase. The simple but impressive ceremony was performed in Mr. Johnson's lodgings at the Kirkwood Hotel; and besides the members of the Cabinet, who were present in their official character, those senators who had remained in Washington since the adjournment of Congress were called in as witnesses. While the death of Mr. Lincoln was still unknown to the majority of the citizens of the Republic, his successor was installed in office, and the administration of the Federal Government was radically changed. It was especially fortunate that the Vice-President was at the National Capital. He had arrived but five days before, and was intending to leave for his home in Tennessee within a few hours. His prompt investiture with the Chief Executive authority of the Nation preserved order, maintained law, and restored confidence to the people. With the defeat and disintegration of the armies of the Confederacy, and with the approaching disbandment of the armies of the Union, constant watchfulness was demanded of the National Executive. It is a striking tribute to the strength of the Constitution and of the Government that the orderly administration of affairs was not interrupted by a tragedy which in many countries might have been the signal for a bloody revolution.
The new President confronted grave responsibilities. The least reflecting among those who took part in the mighty struggle perceived that the duties devolved upon the Government by victory—if less exacting and less critical than those imposed by actual war—were more delicate in their nature, and required statesmanship of a different character. The problem of reconstructing the Union, and adapting its varied interests to its changed condition, demanded the highest administrative ability. Many of the questions involved were new, and, if only for that reason, perplexing. No experience of our own had established precedents; none in other countries afforded even close analogies. Rebellions and civil wars had, it is true, been frequent, but they had been chiefly among peoples consolidated under one government, ruled in all their affairs, domestic and external, by one central power. The overthrow of armed resistance in such cases was the end of trouble, and political society and public order were rapidly re-formed under the restraint which the triumphant authority was so easily able to impose.
A prompt adjustment after the manner of consolidated governments was not practicable under our Federal system. In the division of functions between the Nation and the State, those that reach and affect the citizen in his every-day life belong principally to the State. The tenure of land is guaranteed and regulated by State Law; the domestic relations of husband and wife, parent and child, guardian and ward, together with the entire educational system, are left exclusively to the same authority, as is also the preservation of the public peace by proper police-systems—the National Government intervening only on the call of the State when the State's power is found inadequate to the suppression of disorder. These leading functions of the State were left in full force under the Confederate Government; and the Confederate Government being now destroyed, and the States that composed it being under the complete domination of the armies of the Union, the whole framework of society was in confusion, if not indeed in chaos. To restore the States to their normal relations to the Union, to enable them to organize governments in harmony with the fundamental changes wrought by the war, was the embarrassing task which the Administration of President Johnson was compelled to meet on the very threshold of its existence.
The successful issue of these unprecedented and complicated difficulties depended in great degree upon the character and temper of the Executive. Many wise men regarded it as a fortunate circumstance that Mr. Lincoln's successor was from the South, though a much larger number in the North found in this fact a source of disquietude. Mr. Johnson had the manifest disadvantage of not possessing any close or intimate knowledge of the people of the Loyal States. It was feared moreover, that his relations with the ruling spirits of the South in the exciting period preceding the war specially unfitted him for harmonious co-operation with them in the pending exigencies.
The character and career of Mr. Johnson were anomalous and in many respects contradictory. By birth he belonged to that large class in the South known as "poor whites,"—a class scarcely less despised by the slave-holding aristocracy than were the human chattels themselves. Born in North Carolina, and bred to the trade of a tailor, he reached his fifteenth year before he was taught even to read. In his eighteenth year he migrated to Tennessee, and established himself in that rich upland region on the eastern border of the State, where by altitude the same agricultural conditions are developed that characterize the land which lies several degrees further North. Specially adapted to the cereals, the grasses, and the fruits of Southern Pennsylvania and Ohio, East Tennessee could not employ slave-labor with the profit which it brought in the rich cotton-fields of the neighboring lowlands, and the result was that the population contained a large majority of whites.
Owing much to a wise marriage, pursuing his trade with skill and industry, Johnson gained steadily in knowledge and in influence. Ambitious, quick to learn, honest, necessarily frugal, he speedily became a recognized leader of the class to which he belonged. Before he had attained his majority he was chosen to an important municipal office, and at twenty-two he was elected mayor of his town. Thenceforward his promotion was rapid. At twenty-seven he was sent to the Legislature of his State; and in 1840, when he was in his thirty-second year, he was nominated for the office of Presidential elector and canvassed that State in the interest of Mr. Van Buren. Three years later he was chosen representative in Congress where he served ten years. He was then nominated for governor, and in the elections of 1853 and 1855 defeated successively two of the most popular Whigs in Tennessee, Gustavus A. Henry and Meredith P. Gentry. In 1857 he was promoted to the Senate of the United States, where he was serving at the outbreak of the civil war.
While Mr. Johnson had been during his entire political life a member of the Democratic party, and had attained complete control in his State, the Southern leaders always distrusted him. Though allied to the interests of slavery and necessarily drawn to its defense, his instincts, his prejudices, his convictions were singularly strong on the side of the free people. His sympathies with the poor were acute and demonstrative—leading him to the advocacy of measures which in a wide and significant sense were hostile to slavery. In the early part of his career as a representative in Congress, he warmly espoused, if indeed he did not originate, the homestead policy. In support of that policy he followed a line of argument and illustration absolutely and irreconcilably antagonistic to the interests of the slave system as those interests were understood by the mass of Southern Democratic leaders.
The bestowment of our public domain in quarter-sections (a hundred and sixty acres of land) upon the actual settler, on the simple condition that he should cultivate it and improve it as his home, was a more effective blow against the spread of slavery in the Territories than any number of legal restrictions or provisos of the kind proposed by Mr. Wilmot. Slavery could not be established with success except upon the condition of large tracts of land for the master, and the exclusion of the small farmer from contact and from competition. The example of the latter's manual industry and his consequent thrift and prosperity, must ultimately prove fatal to the entire slave system. It may not have been Mr. Johnson's design to injure the institution of slavery by the advocacy of the homestead policy; but such advocacy was nevertheless hostile, and this consideration did not stay his hand or change his action.
Mr. Johnson' mode of urging and defending the homestead policy was at all times offensive to the mass of his Democratic associates of the South, many of whom against their wishes were compelled to support the measure on its final passage, for fear of giving offense to their landless white constituents, and in the still more pressing fear, that if Johnson should be allowed to stand alone in upholding the measure, he would acquire a dangerous ascendency over that large element in the Southern population. Johnson spoke with ill-disguised hatred of "an inflated and heartless landed aristocracy," not applying the phrase especially to the South, but making an argument which tended to sow dissension in that section. He declared that "the withholding of the use of the soil from the actual cultivator is violative of the principles essential to human existence," and that when "the violation reaches that point where it can no longer be borne, revolution begins." His argument startlingly outlined a condition such as has long existed in Ireland, and applied it with suggestive force to the possible fate of the South.
He then sketched his own ideal of a rural population, an ideal obviously based on free labor and free institutions. "You make a settler on the domain," said he, "a better citizen of the community. He becomes better qualified to discharge the duties of a freeman. He is, in fact, the representative of his own homestead, and is a man in the enlarged and proper sense of the term. He comes to the ballot-box and votes without the fear or the restraint of some landlord. After the hurry and bustle of election day are over, he mounts his own horse, returns to his own domicil, goes to his own barn, feeds his own stock. His wife turns out and milks their own cows, churns their own butter; and when the rural repast is ready, he and his wife and their children sit down at the same table together to enjoy the sweet product of their own hands, with hearts thankful to God for having cast their lots in this country where the land is made free under the protecting and fostering care of a beneficent Government."
The picture thus presented by Johnson was not the picture of a home in the slave States, and no one knew better than he that it was a home which could not be developed and established amid the surroundings and the influences of slavery. It was a home in the North-West, and not in the South-West. Proceeding in his speech Johnson became still more warmly enamored of his hero on the homestead, and with a tongue that seemed touched with the gift of prophecy he painted him in the possible career of a not distant future. "It has long been near my heart," said he in the House of Representatives in July, 1850, "to see every man in the United States domiciled. Once accomplished, it would create the strongest tie between the citizen and the Government; what a great incentive it would afford to the citizen to obey every call of duty! At the first summons of the note of war you would find him leaving his plow in the half-finished furrow, taking his only horse and converting him into a war-steed: his scythe and sickle would be thrown aside, and with a heart full of valor and patriotism he would rush with alacrity to the standard of his country."
Such appeals for popular support subjected Johnson to the imputation of demagogism, and earned for him the growing hatred of that dangerous class of men in the South who placed the safety of the institution of slavery above the interest and the welfare of the white laborer. But if he was a demagogue, he was always a brave one. In his early political life, when the mere nod of President Jackson was an edict in Tennessee, Johnson did not hesitate to espouse the cause of Hugh L. White when he was a candidate for the Presidency in 1836, nor did he fear to ally himself with John Bell in the famous controversy with Jackson's protégé, James K. Polk, in the fierce political struggle of 1834-5. Though he returned to the ranks of the regular Democracy in the contest between Harrison and Van Buren, he was bold enough in 1842 to propose in the Legislature of Tennessee that the apportionment of political power should be made upon the basis of the white population of the State. He saw and keenly felt that a few white men in the cotton section of the State, owning many slaves, were usurping the power and trampling upon the rights of his own constituency, among whom slaves were few in number and white men numerous. Those who are familiar with the savage intolerance which prevailed among the slave-holders can justly measure the degree of moral and physical courage required in any man who would assail their power at a vital point in the framework of a government specially and skilfully devised for their protection.
In all the threats of disunion, in all the plotting and planning for secession which absorbed Southern thought and action between the years 1854 and 1861, Mr. Johnson took no part. He had been absent from Congress during the exciting period when the Missouri Compromise was overthrown; and though, after his return in 1857, he co-operated generally in the measures deemed essential for Southern interests, he steadily declared that a consistent adherence to the Constitution was the one and the only remedy for all the alleged grievances of the slave-holders. It was natural therefore, that when the decisive hour came, and the rash men of the South determined to break up the Government, Johnson should stand firmly by the Union.
Of the twenty-two senators from the eleven States that afterwards composed the Confederacy, Johnson was the only one who honorably maintained his oath to support the Constitution; the only one who did not lend his aid and comfort to the enemies of the Union. He remained in his seat in the Senate, loyal to the Government, and resigned a year after the outbreak of the war (in March, 1862), upon Mr. Lincoln's urgent request that he should accept the important post of Military Governor of Tennessee. His administration of that office and his firm discharge of every duty under circumstances of great exigency and oftentimes of great peril, gave to him an exceptional popularity in all the Loyal States, and led to his selection for the Vice-Presidency in 1864. The national calamity had now suddenly brought him to a larger field of duty, and devolved upon him the weightiest responsibility.
The assassination of Mr. Lincoln naturally produced a wide-spread depression and dread of evil. His position had been one of exceptional strength with the people. By his four years of considerate and successful administration, by his patient and positive trust in the ultimate triumph of the Union—realized at last as he stood on the edge of the grave—he had acquired so complete an ascendancy over the public mind in the Loyal States that any policy matured and announced by him would have been accepted by a vast majority of his countrymen. But the same degree of faith could not attach to Mr. Johnson; although after the first shock of the assassination had subsided, there was a generous revival of trust, or at least of hope, that the great work which had been so faithfully prosecuted for four years would be faithfully carried forward in the same lofty spirit to the same noble ends. The people of the North waited with favorable disposition and yet with balancing judgment and in exacting mood. They had enjoyed abundant opportunity to acquaint themselves with the principles and the opinions of the new President, and confidence in his future policy was not unaccompanied by a sense of uncertainty and indeed by an almost painful suspense as to his mode of solving the great problems before him. As has already been indicated, the more radical Republicans of the North feared that his birth and rearing as a Southern man and his long identification with the supporters of the slave system might blind him to the most sacred duties of philanthropy, while the more conservative but not less loyal or less humane feared that from the personal antagonisms of his own stormy career he might be disposed to deal too harshly with the leaders of the conquered rebellion. The few words which Mr. Johnson had addressed to those present when he took the oath of office were closely scanned and carefully analyzed by the country, even in the stunning grief which Mr. Lincoln's death had precipitated. It was especially noted that he refrained from declaring that he should continue the policy of his predecessor. By those who knew Mr. Johnson's views intimately, the omission was understood to imply that Mr. Lincoln had intended to pursue a more liberal and more generous policy with the rebels than his successor deemed expedient or prudent.
It was known to a few persons that when Mr. Johnson arrived from Fortress Monroe on the morning of April 10, and found the National Capital in a blaze of patriotic excitement over the surrender of Lee's army the day before at Appomattox, he hastened to the White House, and addressed to the unwilling ears of Mr. Lincoln an earnest protest against the indulgent terms conceded by General Grant. Mr. Johnson believed that General Lee should not have been permitted to surrender his sword as a solider of honor, but that General Grant should have received the entire command as prisoners of war, and should have held Lee in confinement until he could receive instructions from the Administration at Washington. The spirit which these views indicated was understood by those who knew Mr. Johnson to be contained, if not expressed, in this declaration of his first address: "As to an indication of any policy which may be pursued by me in the conduct of the Government, I have to say that that must be left for development as the Administration progresses. The message or the declaration must be made by the acts as they transpire. The only assurance I can now give of the future is by reference to the past."
The effect produced upon the public by this speech, which might be regarded as an Inaugural address, was not happy. Besides its evasive character respecting public policies which every observing man noted with apprehension, an unpleasant impression was created by its evasive character respecting Mr. Lincoln. The entire absence of eulogy of the slain President was remarked. There was no mention of his name or of his character or of his office. The only allusion in any way whatever to Mr. Lincoln was Mr. Johnson's declaration that he was "almost overwhelmed by the announcement of the sad event which has so recently occurred." While he found no time to praise one whose praise was on every tongue, he made ample reference to himself and his own past history. Though speaking not more than five minutes, it was noticed that "I" and "my" and "me" were mentioned at least a score of times. A boundless egotism was inferred from the line of his remarks: "My past public life which has been long and laborious has been founded, as I in good conscience believe, upon a great principle of right which lies at the basis of all things." "I must be permitted to say, if I understand the feelings of my own heart, I have long labored to ameliorate and alleviate the condition of the great mass of the American people." "Toil and an honest advocacy of the great principles of free government have been my lot. The duties have been mine, the consequences God's." Senator John P. Hale of New Hampshire, who was present on the occasion, said with characteristic wit, that "Johnson seemed willing to share the glory of his achievements with his Creator, but utterly forgot that Mr. Lincoln had any share of credit in the suppression of the Rebellion."
Three days later (April 18) a delegation of distinguished citizens of Illinois called upon Mr. Johnson under circumstances at once extraordinary and touching. The dead President still lay in the White House. Before the solemn and august procession should leave the National Capital to bear his mortal remains to the State which had loved and honored him, the Illinois delegation called to assure his successor of their respect and their confidence. Governor Oglesby who spoke for his associates, addressed the President in language eminently befitting the occasion. "In the midst of this sadness," said he, "through the oppressive gloom that surrounds us, we look to you and to a brighter future for our country. . . . The record of your past life, familiar to all, your noble efforts to stay the hand of treason and restore our flag to the uttermost bounds of the Republic, give assurance to the great State we represent that we may safely trust the nation's destinies in your hands."
Mr. Johnson responded in a speech of much greater length than his first, embodying a wider range of topics than seemed to be demanded by the proprieties of the occasion. He evidently strove to repair the error of his former address. He now diminished the number of gratulatory allusions to his own career, and made appropriate and affecting reference to his predecessor. He spoke with profound emotion of the tragical termination of Mr. Lincoln's life: "The beloved of all hearts has been assassinated." Pausing thoughtfully he added, "And when we trace this crime to its cause, when we remember the source whence the assassin drew his inspiration, and then look at the result, we stand yet more astounded at this most barbarous, most diabolical act. . . . We can trace its cause through successive steps back to that source which is the spring of all our woes. No one can say that if the perpetrator of this fiendish deed be arrested, he should not undergo the extremest penalty of the law known for crime; none will say that mercy should interpose. But is he alone guilty? Here, gentlemen, you perhaps expect me to present some indication of my future policy. One thing I will say: every era teaches its lesson. The times we live in are not without instruction. The American people must be taught—if they do not already feel—that treason is a crime and must be punished. The Government must be strong not only to protect but to punish. When we turn to the criminal code we find arson laid down as a crime with the appropriate penalty. We find theft and murder denounced as crimes, and their appropriate penalty prescribed; and there, too, we find the last and highest of crimes,—treason. . . . The people must understand that treason is the blackest of crimes and will surely be punished . . . . Let it be engraven on every mind that treason is a crime and traitors shall suffer its penalty. . . . I do not harbor bitter or resentful feelings towards any. . . . When the question of exercising mercy comes before me it will be considered calmly, judicially— remembering that I am the Executive of the Nation. I know men love to have their names spoken of in connection with acts of mercy, and how easy it is to yield to that impulse. But we must never forget that what may be mercy to the individual is cruelty to the State."
This speech was reported by an accomplished stenographer, and was submitted to Mr. Johnson's inspection before publication. It contained a declaration intimating to his hearers, if not explicitly assuring them, that "the policy of Mr. Lincoln in the past shall be my policy in the future." When in reading the report he came to this passage, Mr. Johnson queried whether his words had not been in some degree misapprehended; and while he was engaged with the stenographer in modifying the form of expression, Mr. Preston King of New York, who was constantly by his side as adviser, interposed the suggestion that all reference to the subject be stricken out. To this Mr. Johnson promptly assented. He had undoubtedly gone farther than he intended in speaking to Mr. Lincoln's immediate friends, and the correction—inspired by one holding the radical views of Mr. King—was equivalent to a declaration that the policy of Mr. Lincoln had been more conservative than that which he intended to pursue. By those who knew the character of Mr. Johnson's mind, the ascendancy of Mr. King in his councils, and the retirement of Mr. Seward from the State Department were foregone conclusions. The known moderation of Mr. Seward's views would not consist with the fierce vigor of the new administration as now clearly foreshadowed. Mr. Seward and Mr. King, moreover, were not altogether in harmony in New York; and this was so far recognized by the public that Mr. King's displacement from the Senate by the election of Governor Morgan two years before was universally attributed to the Seward influence skilfully directed by Mr. Thurlow Weed. The resentment felt by Mr. King's friends had been very deep, and the opportunity to gratify it seemed now to be presented.
As soon as the Illinois delegation had retired, the members of the Christian Commission then in session at Washington called upon the President. In reply to their earnest address, he begged them as intelligent men representing the power of the Christian Church, to exert their moral influence "in erecting a standard by which everybody should be taught to believe that treason is the highest crime known to the laws, and that the perpetrator should be visited with the punishment which he deserves." This substantial repetition of the views expressed in his Illinois speech derived significance from the fact that the clergyman who spoke for the Christian Commission (Rev. Dr. Borden of Albany) had expressed the hope in his address to the President that "in the administration of justice, mercy would follow the success of arms."
While the remains of the late President were yet reposing in the National Capital, and still more while his funeral-train was on the way to his tomb, the reception of official deputations and political bodies was continued by his successor. Mr. Johnson was always ready to explain with some iteration and with great emphasis his views of the Government's duty respecting those who had been engaged in rebellion against its authority. To a representative body of loyal Southerners who by reason of their fidelity to the Union had been compelled to flee from home, Mr. Johnson was especially demonstrative in his sympathy, and positive in his assurances. In reply to their address he said: "It is hardly necessary for me on this occasion to declare that my sympathies and impulses in connection with this nefarious rebellion beat in unison with yours. Those who have passed through this bitter ordeal and who participated in it to a great extent, are more competent, as I think, to judge and determine the true policy that should be pursued. I know how to appreciate the condition of being driven from one's home. I can sympathize with him whose all has been taken from him: I can sympathize with him who has been driven from the place that gave his children birth. . . . I have become satisfied that mercy without justice is a crime, and that when mercy and clemency are exercised by the Executive it should always be done in view of justice. In that manner alone the great prerogative of mercy is properly exercised. The time has come, as you who have had to drink this bitter cup are fully aware, when the American people should be made to understand the true nature of crime. Of crime generally our people have a high understanding as well as of the necessity of its punishment; but in the catalogue of crimes there is one, and that the highest known to the laws and the Constitution, of which since the days of Aaron Burr they have become oblivious. That crime is treason. The time has come when the people should be taught to understand the length and breadth, the height and depth, of treason. One who has become distinguished in the rebellion says that 'when traitors become numerous enough, treason becomes respectable, and to become a traitor is to constitute a portion of the aristocracy of the country.' God protect the American people against such an aristocracy! . . . When the Government of the United States shall ascertain who are the conscious and intelligent traitors the penalty and the forfeit should be paid."
A delegation of Pennsylvanians called upon him with ex-Secretary Simon Cameron as their spokesman. In reply Mr. Johnson said, "There has been an effort since this rebellion began, to make the impression that it was a mere political struggle, or, as I see it thrown out in some of the papers, a struggle for the ascendency of certain principles from the dawn of the government to the present time, and now settled by the final triumph of the Federal arms. If this is admitted, the Government is at an end; for no question can arise but they will make it a party issue, and then to whatever length they carry it, the party defeated will only be a party defeated, with no crime attaching thereto. But I say that treason is a crime, the very highest crime known to the law, and there are men who ought to suffer the penalty of their treason! . . . To the unconscious, the deceived, the conscripted, in short, to the great mass of the misled, I would say mercy, clemency, reconciliation, and the restoration of their government. But to those who have deceived, to the conscious, intelligent, influential traitor who attempted to destroy the life of a nation, I would say, on you be inflicted the severest penalties of your crime."
The inflexible sternness of Mr. Johnson's tone and the frequent repetition of his intention to inflict the severest penalty of the law upon the leading traitors, began to create apprehension in the North. It was feared that the country might be called upon to witness, after the four years' carnival of death on the battle-field and in the hospital, an era of "bloody assizes," made the more rigorous and revengeful from the peculiar sense of injury which the President, as a loyal Southerner, had realized in his own person. This feeling was probably still further aggravated by his avowed sympathy with the thousands in the South who had been maimed, driven from home, stripped of all their property, simply because of the fidelity to the Constitution and the Union of their fathers. The spirit of the Vendetta, unknown in the Northern States, was frequently shown in the South, where it had long been domesticated with all its Corsican ferocity. It had raged in many instances to the extermination of families, and in many localities to the destruction of peace and the utter defiance of law—not infrequently indeed paralyzing the administration of justice in whole counties. Often seeking and waging open combat with ferocious courage, it did not hesitate at secret murder, at waylaying on lonely roads with superior numbers, and it sometimes went so far as to torture an unhappy victim before the final death-blow. The language of Mr. Johnson was interpreted by the merciful in the North as indicating that his own injuries and fierce conflicts during the war has possibly inspired him with the fell spirit of revenge, which in his zeal he might mistake for the rational demands of justice.
A personal and somewhat curious illustration of Mr. Johnson's temper and purpose at the time is afforded by a conference between himself and Senator Wade of Ohio. Mr. Wade was widely known as among the radical and progressive members of the Republican party. His immediate constituents of the Western Reserve were a just and God-fearing people, amply endowed with both moral and physical courage; but they were not men of blood, and they were not in sympathy with the apparent purposes of the President. It is not improbable that Mr. Wade's views were somewhat in advance of those held by the majority of the people he represented, but he was evidently not in accord with the threatenings and slaughter breathed out by the President.
"Well, Mr. Wade, what would you do were you in my place and charged with my responsibilities?" inquired the President. "I think," replied the frank and honest old senator from Ohio, "I should either force into exile or hang about ten or twelve of the worst of those fellows; perhaps by way of full measure, I should make it thirteen, just a baker's dozen."—"But how," rejoined the President, "are you going to pick out so small a number and show them to be guiltier than the rest?" —"It won't do to hang a very large number," rejoined Wade, "and I think if you would give me time, I could name thirteen that stand at the head in the work of rebellion. I think we would all agree on Jeff Davis, Toombs, Benjamin Slidell, Mason, and Howell Cobb. If we did no more than drive those half-dozen out of the country, we should accomplish a good deal."
The interview was long, and at its close Mr. Johnson expressed surprise that Wade was willing to let "the traitors," as he always styled them, "escape so easily." He said that he had expected the heartiest support from Wade in a policy which, as he outlined it to the senator, seemed in thoroughness to rival that of Strafford. Mr. Wade left the Executive Mansion with his mind divided between admiration for the stern resolve and high courage of the President on the one hand, and his fear on the other that a policy so determined and aggressive as Mr. Johnson seemed bent on pursuing might work a re-action in the North, and that thus in the end less might be done in providing proper safeguards against another rebellion, than if too much had not been attempted.
The remains of the late President lay in state at the Executive Mansion for four days. The entire city seemed as a house of mourning. It was remarked that even the little children in the streets wore no smiles upon their faces, so deeply were they impressed by the calamity which had brought grief to every loyal heart. The martial music which had been resounding in glad celebration of the national triumph had ceased; public edifice and private mansion were alike draped with the insignia of grief; the flag of the Union, which had been waving more proudly than ever before, was now lowered to half-mast, giving mute but significant expression to the sorrow that was felt wherever on sea or land that flag was honored.
Funeral services, conducted by the leading clergymen of the city, were held in the East Room on Wednesday the 19th of April. Amid the solemn tolling of church-bells, and the still more solemn thundering of minute-guns from the vast line of fortifications which had protected Washington, the body, escorted by an imposing military and civic procession, was transferred to the rotunda of the Capitol. The day was observed throughout the Union as one of fasting, humiliation, and prayer. The deep feeling of the people found expression in all the forms of religious solemnity. Services in the churches throughout the land were held in unison with the services at the Executive mansion, and were everywhere attended with exhibition of profound personal grief. In all the cities of Canada business was suspended, public meetings of condolence with a kindred people were held, and prayers were read in the churches. Throughout the Confederate States where war had ceased but peace had not yet come, the people joined in significant expressions of sorrow over the death of him whose very name they had been taught to execrate.
Early on the morning of the 21st the body was removed from the Capitol and placed on the funeral-car which was to transport it to its final resting-place in Illinois. The remains of a little son who had died three years before, were taken from their burial-place in Georgetown and borne with those of his father for final sepulture in the stately mausoleum which the public mind had already decreed to the illustrious martyr. The train which moved from the National Capital was attended on its course by extraordinary manifestations of grief on the part of the people. Baltimore, which had reluctantly and sullenly submitted to Mr. Lincoln's formal inauguration and to his authority as President, now showed every mark of honor and of homage as his body was borne through her streets, Confederate and Unionist alike realizing the magnitude of the calamity which had overwhelmed both North and South. In Philadelphia the entire population did reverence to the memory of the murdered patriot. A procession of more than a hundred thousand persons formed his funeral cortége to Independence Hall, where the body remained until the ensuing day. The silence of the sorrowful night was in strange contrast with the scene in the same place, four years before, when Mr. Lincoln, in the anxieties and perils of the opening rebellion, hoisted the National flag over our ancient Temple of Liberty, and before a great and applauding multitude defended the principles which that flag typifies. He concluded in words which, deeply impressive at the time, proved sadly prophetic now that his dead body lay in a bloody shroud where his living form then stood: "Sooner than surrender these principles, I would be assassinated on this spot."
In the city of New York the popular feeling was, if possible, even more marked than in Philadelphia. The streets were so crowded that the procession moved with difficulty to the City Hall, where amid the chantings of eight hundred singers, the body was placed upon the catafalque prepared for it. Throughout the day and throughout the entire night the living tide of sorrowful humanity flowed past the silent form. At the solemn hour of midnight the German musical societies sang a funeral-hymn with an effect so impressive and touching that thousands of strong men were in tears. Other than this no sound was heard throughout the night except the footsteps of the advancing and receding crowd. At sunrise many thousands still waiting in the park were obliged to turn away disappointed. It was observed that every person who passed through the hall, even the humblest and poorest, wore the insignia of mourning. In a city accustomed to large assemblies and to unrestrained expressions of popular feeling, no such scene had ever been witnessed. On the afternoon appointed for the procession to move Westward, all business was suspended, and the grief of New York found utterance in Union Square before a great concourse of people in a funeral oration by the historian Bancroft and in an elegiac ode by William Cullen Bryant.
Similar scenes were witnessed in the great cities along the entire route. Final obsequies were celebrated in Oakridge Cemetery near Springfield on the fourth day of May. Major-General Joseph Hooker acted as chief marshal upon the occasion, and an impressive sermon was pronounced by Bishop Simpson of the Methodist-Episcopal church. Perhaps in the history of the world no such outpouring of the people, no such exhibition of deep feeling, had ever been witnessed as on this funeral march from the National Capital to the capital of Illinois. The pomp with which sovereigns and nobles are interred is often formal rather than emotional, attaching to the rank rather than to the person. Louis Philippe appealed to the sympathy of France when he brought the body of the Emperor Napoleon from St. Helena twenty years after his death; but the popular feeling among the French was chiefly displayed in connection with the elaborate rites which attended the transfer of the dead hero to the Invalides, where the shattered remains of his valiant and once conquering legions formed for the last time around him. Twelve years later the victorious rival by whom the imperial warrior was at last overcome, received from the populace of London, as well as from the crown, the peers, and the commons of England, the heartiest tribute that Britons ever paid to human greatness.
The splendor of the ceremonials which aggrandize living royalty as much as they glorify dead heroism, was wholly wanting in the obsequies of Mr. Lincoln. No part was taken by the Government except the provision of a suitable military escort. All beyond was the spontaneous movement of the people. For seventeen hundred miles, through eight great States of the Union whose population was not less than fifteen millions, an almost continuous procession of mourners attended the remains of the beloved President. There was no pageantry save their presence. There was no tribute but their tears. They bowed before the bier of him who had ben prophet, priest, and king to his people, who had struck the shackles from the slave, who had taught a higher sense of duty to the true man, who had raised the Nation to a loftier conception of faith and hope and charity. A countless multitude of men, with music and banner and cheer and the inspiration of a great cause, presents a spectacle that engages the eye, fills the mind, appeals to the imagination. But the deepest sympathy of the soul is touched, the height of human sublimity is reached, when the same multitude, stricken with a common sorrow, stands with uncovered head, reverent and silent.
CHAPTER II.
From saddening associations with the tragical death of Mr. Lincoln, popular attention was turned three weeks after his interment to a great military display in the Capital of the Nation in honor of the final victory for the Union. The exigencies of the closing campaign had transferred the armies commanded by General Sherman from the Mississippi Valley to the Atlantic coast. The soldiers of Port Hudson and Vicksburg, the heroes of Donelson, Chattanooga, and Atlanta, had been brought within a day's march of the bronzed veterans whose battle-flags were emblazoned with the victories of Antietam and Gettysburg and with the crowning triumph at Appomattox. It was the happy suggestion of Secretary Stanton which assembled all these forces in the National Capital to be viewed by the Commander-in-Chief. Through four years of stern and perilous duty, there had been no holiday, no parade of ceremony, no evolution for mere display, either by the troops of the East or of the West. Their time had been passed in camp and in siege, in march and in battle, with no effort relaxed, no vigor abated, no vigilance suspended, during all the long period when the fate of the Union was at stake. It was now fitting that the President, attended by the chief officers of the Government, should welcome them and honor them in the name of the Republic. They had brought from the field the priceless trophy of American Nationality as the reward of their valorous struggle. By the voice of the people a "triumph" as demonstrative, if not as formal, as that given to a conqueror in Ancient Rome was now decreed to them. They had earned the right to be applauded on the via sacra, and to receive the laurel-wreath from the steps of the Capitol.
The first day's review, Wednesday, May 23, was given to the Army of the Potomac, of which General Meade had remained the commander since the victory at Gettysburg, but whose operations during the closing year of the struggle had been under the personal direction of General Grant. A part only of its vast forces marched through Washington on that day of loyal pride and gladness; but the number was large beyond the power of the eye to apprehend, beyond any but the skilled mind to reckon. An approximate conception of it can be reached by stating that one hundred and fifty-one regiments of infantry, thirty-six regiments of cavalry, and twenty-two batteries of artillery passed under the eye of the President, who reviewed the whole from a platform in front of the Executive Mansion.
On the ensuing day the Army of the Tennessee and the Army of Georgia, constituting the right and left wing of General Sherman's forces, were reviewed. There was naturally some rivalry of a friendly type between the Eastern and Western soldiers, and special observation was made of their respective qualities and characteristics. The geographical distinction was not altogether accurate, for Western troops had always formed a valuable part of the Army of the Potomac; while troops from the East were incorporated in Sherman's army, and had shared the glories of the Atlanta campaign and of the March to the sea. It was true, however, that the great mass of the Army of the Potomac came from the eastern side of the Alleghanies, while the great mass of Sherman's command came from the western side. The aggregate number reviewed on the second day did not differ materially from the number on the first day. There were some twenty more regiments of infantry on the second day, but fewer cavalry regiments and fewer batteries of artillery.
The special interest which attached to the review, aside from the inestimable significance of a restored Union, consisted in the fact that the spectators, who were reckoned by tens of thousands, saw before them an actual, living, fighting army. They were not holiday troops with bright uniforms, trained only for display and carrying guns that were never discharged against a foe. They were a great body of veterans who had not slept under a roof for years, who had marched over countries more extended than those traversed by the Legions of Cæsar, who had come from a hundred battle-fields on which they had left dead comrades more numerous than the living who now celebrated the final victory of peace. It was the remembrance of this which in all the glad rejoicing over the past and all the bright anticipation of the future lent a tinge of sadness to the splendid and inspiring spectacle of the day. The applause so heartily given for the soldiers who were present could not be unaccompanied by tears for the fate of that vast host which had gone down to death without even the consolation of knowing that they had not died in vain.
In the four years of their service the armies of the Union, counting every form of conflict, great and small, had been in twenty-two hundred and sixty-five engagements with the Confederate troops. From the time when active hostilities began until the last gun of the war was fired, a fight of some kind—a raid, a skirmish, or a pitched battle—occurred at some point on our widely extended front nearly eleven times a week upon an average. Counting only those engagements in which the Union loss in killed, wounded, and missing exceeded one hundred, the total number was three hundred and thirty,—averaging one every four and a half days. From the northernmost point of contact to the southernmost, the distance by any practicable line of communications was more than two thousand miles. From East to West the extremes were fifteen hundred miles apart.
During the first year of hostilities—one of preparation on both sides —the battles were naturally fewer in number and less decisive in character than afterwards, when discipline had been imparted to the troops by drill, and when the materiel of war had been collected and stored for prolonged campaigns. The engagements of all kinds in 1861 were thirty-five in number, of which the most serious was the Union defeat at Bull Run. In 1862 the war had greatly increased in magnitude and intensity, as is shown by the eighty-four engagements between the armies. The net result of the year's operations was highly favorable to the Rebellion. In 1863 the battles were one hundred and ten in number—among them some of the most significant and important victories for the Union. In 1864 there were seventy-three engagements, and in the winter and early spring of 1865 there were twenty-eight.
In fact, 1864-65 was one continuous campaign. The armies of the Union did not go into winter-quarters to the extent of abandoning or suspending operations. They felt that it was in their power to bring the struggle to an end at once, and they pressed forward with prodigious vigor and with complete success. General Grant with his characteristic energy insisted that "active and continuous operations of all the troops that could be brought into the field regardless of season and weather were necessary to a speedy termination of the war." He had seen, as he expressed it in his own terse, quaint language, that "the armies of the East and the West had been acting independently and without concert, like a balky team, no two of them ever pulling together." Under his direction the forces of the Union, however distant from each other, were brought into harmonious co-operation and with the happiest results. The discipline of the Union army was never so fine, its vigor was never so great, its spirit was never so high, as at the close of that terrible campaign which under Grant's command in the East began at the Wilderness and ended with Lee's surrender, and which under Sherman's command in the West began with the march towards Atlanta, and closed with the complete conquest of Georgia and the Carolinas.
A grave moral responsibility rests upon those who continue a contest of arms after it is made clear that there is no longer a possibility of success. However far the laws of war may justify a belligerent in deceiving an enemy, the laws of honorable and humane dealing are violated with one's own partisans when a brave and confiding soldiery are led into a fight known by their commanders to be hopeless. Early in January, 1865, Jefferson Davis indicated the desire of the Confederate authorities to negotiate with the National Government for the arrangement of the terms of peace, and as a result the famous conference was held at Fortress Monroe. This step was taken by Mr. Davis because he saw that further effort on the part of the Confederates must be utterly futile. When he failed at this conference to secure any recognition of his government, he spitefully turned to the prolongation of the struggle. Every life destroyed in the conflict thereafter was needless slaughter, and the blood of the victims cries out against the Confederate Government for compelling the sacrifice.
When at last through sheer exhaustion the Confederate Armies ceased resistance and surrendered, they did so on precisely the same terms that had been offered by the Government of the Union three months before. In the interim the Confederate leaders had been deluding their people with the pretense that the "Lincoln Government" had outraged the South in refusing to recognize Confederate Nationality even long enough to treat with it for peace. "Nothing beyond this," exclaimed Mr. Robert M. T. Hunter in a speech delivered at a meeting in Richmond held immediately after the Peace Conference to which he had been one of the commissioners,—"Nothing beyond this is needed to stir the blood of Southern men." In the course of his inflammatory address Mr. Hunter made the naïve confession: "If our people exhibit the proper spirit they will bring forth the deserters from their caves; and the skulkers, who are avoiding the perils of the field, will go forth to share the dangers of their countrymen." The "skulkers" and "deserters" referred to were no doubt brave men who, having fought as long as there was hope, were not ambitious to sacrifice their lives to carry on the shameless bravado of the political leaders of the Rebellion.
Mr. Hunter spoke with singular intemperance of tone for one who was usually cool, guarded, and conservative. He was followed by the Mephistopheles of the Rebellion, the brilliant, learned, sinister Secretary of State, Judah P. Benjamin. He spoke as one who felt that he had the alias of an English subject for shelter, or possibly the Spanish flag for protection, when the worst should come, and thus he might continue to play the part of Confederate citizen so long as it favored his ambition and his fortune. He delivered a speech full of desperate suggestion—so desperate indeed that it re-acted and injured the cause for which he was demanding harsh sacrifices on the part of others. He urged upon his hearers that the States of the Confederacy had nearly seven hundred thousand male slaves of the age for military service. He gave the assurance that if freedom should be conceded to these men they would fight in aid of the Rebellion. Besides advocating a guaranty of emancipation to all these black men,—for the right to keep whom in slavery the war had been undertaken,—Mr. Benjamin urged that every bale of cotton, every hogshead of tobacco, every pound of bacon, every barrel of flour, should be seized for the benefit of the common cause.
Happily Mr. Benjamin went too far. His over-zeal had tempted him to prove too much. The Southern people who had desired to build up a slave empire, and who despised the negro as a freeman, were asked by Mr. Benjamin to surrender this cherished project, and join with him in the ignoble design of founding a confederacy whose corner-stone should rest on hatred of the Northern States, and whose one achievement should be the revival and extension of English commercial power on this continent. When the end came, Mr. Benjamin did not share the disasters and sacrifices with the sincere and earnest men whom he had done so much to mislead, and to whom he was bound in an especial manner by the tie which unites the victims of a common calamity. Instead of this magnanimous course which would in part have redeemed his wrong-doing, Mr. Benjamin took quick refuge under the flag to whose allegiance he was born. He left America with the full consciousness that to the measure of his ability, which was great, he had inflicted injury upon the country which had sheltered and educated him, and which had opened to him the opportunity for that large personal influence which he had used so discreditably to himself and so disastrously to the cause he espoused.
Mr. Benjamin became a resident of London and subsequently won distinction at the English Bar—rising to the eminence of Queen's counsel. His ability and learning were everywhere recognized, but it was at the same time admitted that he owed much of his success to the sympathy and the support of that preponderating class among British merchants who cordially wished and worked for our destruction,—who, covertly throughout the entire civil conflict, and openly where safe opportunity was presented, did all in their power to embarrass and injure the Union. If Mr. Benjamin had been loyal, and had honorably observed the special oath which he had taken to maintain and defend the Constitution, he might in vain have sought the patronage of that large number of Englishmen who enriched him with generous retainers. No one grudged to Mr. Benjamin the wages of his professional work, the reward of ability and industry; but the manner in which he was lauded into notoriety in London, the effort constantly made to lionize and to aggrandize him, were conspicuous demonstrations of hatred to our Government, and were significant expressions of regret that Mr. Benjamin's treason had not been successful. Those whom he served either in the Confederacy or in England in his efforts to destroy the American Union may eulogize him according to his work; but every citizen of the Great Republic, whose loyalty was unswerving, will regard Mr. Benjamin as a foe in whom malignity was unrelieved by a single trace of magnanimity.
The Confederates had failed in war, but their leaders had not the moral courage to accept the only practicable peace. Their subsequent course in Congress, in the Cabinet, and in the field, exposed in very striking outline the strong points and the weak points of Southern character. It exhibited Southern men as possessed of the utmost physical courage—often carried indeed to foolish audacity. It exhibited them at the same time as singularly deficient in the attribute of moral courage. When the Southern leaders knew the Confederate cause to be hopeless not a single man among them displayed sufficient heroism to brave public opinion with the declaration of his honest belief. The absolute suppression of free discussion which had long prevailed in the South, the frequent murder of those who attempted to express an unpopular opinion however honestly entertained, had deprived brave men of every trait of that higher form of courage which has given immortality of fame to the moral heroes of the world.
Not individually alone but in combined action this weak trait of Southern character was made manifest. Only a month before the time when the Confederacy was in ruins and the members of its Congress were fugitives from its Capital, they united in an inflammatory address to the people of the South, urging them to continue the contest. They made assertions and employed arguments which as men of intelligence they could not themselves believe and accept. They strove by exciting evil passions and blind animosities to hurl the soldiers of the Confederacy once more into a desperate fight with all its suffering and with certain defeat. In this address, which was the unanimous vote of the Confederate Senate and the Confederate House of Representatives, the people were told that if they failed in the war, "the Southern States would be held as conquered provinces by the despotic government at Washington;" that they "would be kept in subjugation by the stern hand of military power as Venice and Lombardy have been held by Austria, as Poland is held by the Russian Czar." A still more terrible fate was foretold. "Not only," continued the address, "would we be deprived of every political franchise dear to freemen, but socially we would be degraded to the level of slaves. . . . Not only would the property and estates of vanquished rebels be confiscated, but they would be divided and distributed among our African bondsmen."
Even the extravagance and absurdity of the foregoing declarations were outdone in other parts of the address. These senators and representatives—not ignorant men themselves—presumed so far upon the ignorance of their constituents as to assure them that "our enemies with a boastful insolence unparalleled in the history of modern civilization have threatened not only our subjugation, but some of them have announced their determination if successful in this struggle to deport our entire white population, and supplant it with a new population drawn from their own territory and from European countries. . . . Think of it! That we the descendants of a brave ancestry who wrested from a powerful nation by force of arms the country which we inhabit—bequeathed to us by them, and upon which we have been born and reared; that we should be uprooted from it and an alien population planted in our stead is a thought that should inspire us with undying hostility to an enemy base enough to have conceived it."
The white population of the eleven Confederate States was at that time between five and six millions. Of course no man who signed the address believed its statements. No one believed that the Government of the United States or the loyal people of the North were so inhuman and so unpatriotic as to advocate the deportation of this vast population, or so foolish as to think that such a task would be practicable even if it were desirable. The address was read in the North immediately after it was issued, and created a mingled feeling of astonishment, amusement, and sorrow. The severest comment made upon it was the remark of a Republican representative in Congress who had a most kindly feeling for the men of the South—that "the deportation for life of the men who signed and issued the libel would not only be a just punishment for the offense, but would be an undoubted advantage to both North and South." The close of the address was in harmony with its opening, and contained an argument which to some minds relieved the whole document from wickedness by making it ludicrous. Its last words insisted that "failure makes us vassals of an arrogant people—secretly if not openly hated by the most enlightened and elevated portions of mankind. Success records us forever in letters of light upon one of the most glorious pages of history. Failure will compel us to drink the cup of humiliation even to the bitter dregs of having the history of our struggle written by New-England historians."
The same lack of moral courage to face the inevitable and deal frankly with friends and supporters was still more palpably shown by Jefferson Davis when he sent a message to the Confederate Congress on March 13, three weeks before the fall of Richmond, in a tone similar to that of the famous address. Even after he was a fugitive, and the Capital of the Confederacy was in the possession of the Union Army, Mr. Davis halted long enough at Danville, to issue a proclamation in which he said, "We have now entered upon a new phase of the struggle. Relieved from the necessity of guarding particular points, our army will be free to move from point to point to strike the enemy in detail far from his base. Let us but will it, and we are free. . . . Let us not despond, my countrymen, but, relying on God, meet the foe with fresh defiance, with unconquered and unconquerable hearts." It is clearly established that Mr. Davis was fully aware of the state of affairs when he issued this misleading and inexcusable proclamation. Four days after its publication the army upon which he relied even for personal protection surrendered to General Grant, and Mr. Davis again sought safety in flight.
These extravagant misrepresentations do infinite damage to the Confederate cause and to the Confederate leaders in history. They reveal in strong light the method by which those leaders were willing to impose and actually did impose upon the almost unlimited credulity of the white population of their States. Prejudice on the question of slavery could be easily stimulated, and no effort was spared to poison the minds of the Southern people against the National Government and against the Northern people. But the exaggerations at the close of the struggle were no greater than those which had been employed at its commencement. From beginning to end the Rebellion was based upon the suppression of that which was true and the suggestion of that which was untrue. To mete out the proper share of responsibility to the leaders who organized the insurrection would be a task at once ungracious and impossible. The aggressive character of the movement was not concealed, and the motives underlying it were understood. That which was not understood, and which still remains to be accounted for, was the conduct of the thousands of Southern Unionists who did not express their opinions and maintain their faith with the firmness and effectiveness which had been widely hoped for and expected in the North. From the timidity of the friends of the Union and the boldness of the advocates of Secession, it is not difficult to understand how the large class of poor whites in the South could be urged into a contest in which every blow struck by them was in support of a system to whose baleful influence they owed their own ignorance, their social degradation, their pitiable poverty.
The wonder excited by the raising of the vast army which saved the Union from destruction was even surpassed by the wonder excited by its prompt and peaceful dissolution. On the day that the task of disbandment was undertaken, the Army of the United States bore upon its rolls the names of one million five hundred and sixteen men (1,000,516). The killed, and those who had previously retired on account of wounds and sickness and from the expiration of shorter terms of service, aggregated, after making due allowance for re-enlistments of the same persons, at least another million. The living among these had retired gradually during the war, and had resumed their old avocations, or, in the great demand for workmen created by the war itself, had found new employment. But with the close of hostilities many industries which had been created by the demands of war ceased, and thousand of men were thrown out of employment. The disbandment of the Volunteer Army would undoubtedly add hundreds of thousands to this number, and thus still further overstock and embarrass the labor-market. The prospect was not encouraging, and many judicious men feared the result.
Happily all anticipations of evil proved groundless. By an instinct of self-support and self-adjustment, that great body of men who left the military service during the latter half of the year 1865 and early in the year 1866 re-entered civil life with apparent contentment and even with certain advantages. Their experience as soldiers, so far from unfitting them for the duties and callings of Peace, seem rather to have proved an admirable school, and to have given them habits of promptness and punctuality, order and neatness, which added largely to their efficiency in whatever field they were called to labor. After the Continental Army was dissolved, its members were found to be models of industry and intelligence in all the walks of life. The successful mechanics, the thrifty tradesmen, the well-to-do farmers in the old thirteen States were found, in great proportion, to have held a commission or carried a musket in the Army of the Revolution. They were, moreover, the strong pioneers who settled the first tier of States to the westward, and laid the solid foundation which assured progress and prosperity to their descendants. Their success as civil magistrates, as legislators, as executives was not less marked and meritorious than their illustrious service in war. The same cause brought the same result a century later in men of the same blood fighting with equal valor the same battle of Constitutional liberty. The inspiration of a great cause does not fail to ennoble the humblest of those who do battle in its defense. Those who stood in the ranks of the Union Army have established this truth by the twenty years of honorable life through which they have passed since their patriotic service was crowned with victory.
The officers who led the Union Army throughout all the stages of the civil conflict were in the main young men. This feature has been a distinguishing mark in nearly all the wars in which the American people have taken part, and with a few notable exceptions has been the rule in the leading military struggles of the world. Alexander the Great died in his thirty-second year. Cæsar entered upon the conquest of Gaul at forty. Frederick the Great was the leading commander of Europe at thirty-three. Napoleon and Wellington, born in the same year, fought their last battle at forty-six years of age. On the exceptional side Marlborough's greatest victories were won when he was nearly sixty (though he had been brilliantly distinguished at twenty-two), and in our own day the most skillful campaign in Europe was under the direction of Von Moltke when he was in the seventieth year of his age.
Washington took command of the Continental Army at forty-three. Lafayette was a major-general at twenty. Nathaniel Greene was a general officer in the military establishment of the Revolution at thirty-three, and entered upon his memorable campaign in the South at thirty-eight. Winfield Scott was but twenty-eight when he commanded at Chippewa and Lundy's Lane. Macomb was thirty-two when he gained the famous victory over Sir George Prevost at Plattsburg. Jackson was forty-seven when he won the decisive battle over Pakenham at New Orleans. On the other hand, Taylor was sixty-three when he conquered at Buena Vista, and Scott was sixty-one when he made his celebrated march from Vera Cruz to the Capital. Scott enjoys the rare distinction of having held high and successful command in two wars which were a full generation of men apart. In 1847 he commanded in Mexico the sons of those officers who aided in his brilliantly successful campaign against the British on the borders of Canada in 1814.
At the opening of the war of the Rebellion General Scott again assumed command, but his seventy-five years pressed heavily upon him, and he soon gave way to younger men who came rapidly forward with patriotic ardor and with worthy ambition. Nearly all the graduates of the United-States Military Academy who achieved distinction were in what might be termed their middle youth; a few were in their twenties; none were old. General Grant won his campaign of the Tennessee, and fought the battles of Henry, Donelson, and Shiloh when he was thirty-eight years of age. Sherman entered upon his onerous work in the South-West when he was forty-one, and accomplished the march to the sea when he was forty-four. Thomas began his splendid career in Kentucky when he was forty-three, and fought the critical and victorious battle of Nashville when he was forty-six. Sheridan was but thirty-three when he confirmed a reputation, already enviable, by his great campaign of 1864 in the Shenandoah Valley. Meade won the decisive battle of Gettysburg when he was forty-seven. McClellan was but thirty-five when he succeeded General Scott in command of the army. McDowell was forty-five when he fought the first battle of magnitude in the war. Buell was forty-two when he joined forces with Grant's army on the second day's fight at Shiloh. Pope was scarcely over forty when he attained the highest credit for his success in the South-West. Hancock was forty-one when he approved himself one of the most brilliant commanders in the army by his superb bearing on the field of Spotsylvania. Hooker was forty-six when he assumed command of the Army of the Potomac.
General Schofield was thirty-four when he commanded with signal ability and success in the battle of Franklin. John Reynolds was forty-three when he fell at the head of his corps in the first day's fight at Gettysburg. Rosecrans was forty-two when he gained the important victory at Stone River. Burnside was thirty-seven when he made the admirable record of his North-Carolina campaign. Howard was thirty-two when he was assigned to the command of a corps, and only a year older when he succeeded McPherson in the command of the army of the Tennessee. McPherson was thirty-five when he gave up his heroic life on the bloody field before Atlanta. Slocum was thirty-eight when he handled his division with consummate skill at White-Oak Swamp. Joseph J. Reynolds was a major-general before he was forty. Parke was at the head of a corps when he was thirty-five. Hazen was thirty-four when he led in the important capture of Fort McAllister. McKenzie, Custer, Kilpatrick, and Ames had each won his star before he had passed his twenty-sixty hear. The only West-Point man who became conspicuous in the command of troops after he was fifty years of age was David Hunter. He entered upon his sixtieth year on the day of the unfortunate battle of Bull Run, and engaged thenceforth in severe and meritorious field-service. Montgomery C. Meigs, one of the ablest graduates of the Military Academy, was kept from the command of troops by the inestimably important services he performed as quartermaster-general, in which office he succeeded Joseph E. Johnston when the latter cast his fortunes with the Confederacy. Perhaps in the military history of the world there was never so large an amount of money disbursed upon the order of a single man as by the order of General Meigs. The aggregate sum could not have less during the war than fifteen hundred millions of dollars, accurately vouched and accounted for to the last cent. General Meigs is still living, vigorous in mind and body, active in good works, and enjoying the unstinted confidence and admiration of his countrymen.
Among the officers who volunteered from civil life the success of young men as commanders was not less marked than among the graduates of West Point. General Logan, to whom is conceded by common consent the leading reputation among volunteer officers, and who rose to the command of an army, went to the field at thirty-five. General Butler was forty-two when he was placed at the head of the Army of the Gulf, and began his striking career in Louisiana. General Banks was forty-four when with the rank of major-general he took command of the Department of Maryland. Alfred Terry, since distinguished in the regular service, achieved high rank as a volunteer at thirty-five. Garfield was a major-general at thirty-one with brilliant promise as a solider when he left the field to enter Congress. Frank Blair at forty-one was a successful commander of a division in the arduous campaign which ended with the fall of Vicksburg. Jacob D. Cox had achieved his reputation in the field at thirty-four. Sickles was forty-one when, desperately wounded, he was borne from the head of his corps at Gettysburg. Cadwallader Washburn in his forty-third year was in command of an important district in the South-West. Rawlins was high in General Grant's confidence and favor at thirty when he filled the important post of chief of staff. James B. Steedman was forty-four when he received Mr. Lincoln's special encomium for bravery. Franz Sigel was in command of a corps before he was thirty-five. Crawford was thirty-three when his division did its noble work at Gettysburg. Chamberlain was thirty-four when he associated his name indelibly with the defense of Little Round-Top. Corse was but twenty-nine when he held the pass at Altoona. Beaver was still younger when he received his terrible wound and his promotion. Grenville Dodge had risen to the rank of a major-general and approved his merit in the Atlanta campaign before his was thirty-three. Hawley did splendid service in the field at thirty-five, and rose rapidly to the rank of brigadier-general. Gresham had made his brave record at thirty-two, and bears wounds to attest his service. The McCooks were all young, all gallant, all successful. Negley was a brigadier-general at thirty-two. Robert Potter commanded a corps before he was thirty-seven. Joseph B. Carr achieved an honorable reputation in his early thirties. Hartranft was highly distinguished before he was thirty-seven. Nelson A. Miles left his counting-room at twenty-one, enlisted as a private, and in two years was a brigadier-general. Selden Connor was rewarded with the same rank for his conduct at the battle of the Wilderness before he was twenty-seven. Nicholas L. Anderson was under thirty when he received his brevet of major-general for a military career worthy in all respects of his eminent kinsman who fired the first gun in defense of the Union. The only general of volunteers beyond fifty years of age who acquired special distinction was James S. Wadsworth who in his fifty-seventh year fell in one of the most sanguinary battles of the war.
The list, both of regulars and volunteers, who achieved high command while still young, might be largely increased. The names given are selected from a roll of honor that has never been surpassed for gallantry of spirit and intrepidity of action in the military service of any country,—a roll too long to have full justice done to all the names borne upon it. Indeed, one of the obstacles to widespread popular fame for many, was in the great number of generals who fairly earned the laurels due to exalted heroism. In a military establishment so vast that the major-generals number one hundred and fifty, and the generals of brigade nearly or quite six hundred, with battles, engagements, and skirmishes in full proportion to the force which such a number of commanders implies, it is difficult to give even the names of all who are worthy of lasting renown. Battles such as established Scott's fame in the Niagara campaign, or Jackson's at New Orleans, or Taylor's at Buena Vista, were in magnitude repeated a hundred times during the civil conflict under commanders whose names are absolutely forgotten by the public. A single corps of Grant's army at the Wilderness, or of Sherman's at Atlanta, or of Meade's at Gettysburg, or of McClellan's on the Peninsula, or of Hooker's at Chancellorsville, contained a large number of troops than Washington or Scott ever commanded on the field, a larger number than Taylor or Jackson ever saw mustered. A more correct conception of the real magnitude of the Union Army can be reached by measuring the proportions of the several branches of the service, than by simply stating the aggregate number of men. There were in all some seventeen hundred regiments of infantry, over two hundred and seventy regiments of cavalry, and more than nine hundred batteries of artillery. These numbers are without parallel in the military history of the world.
There was a very strong and patriotic disposition to engage in the war, on the part of the sons of the Northern statesmen who had been prominent during the generation preceding the outbreak of hostilities. It was no doubt felt by the juniors to be a chivalric duty to defend on the field what had been advanced by the seniors in Congress and in Cabinet. A very notable instance was that of the brothers Ewing,—Hugh, Thomas, and Charles, sons of the eminent Thomas Ewing of Ohio,—each of which attained through gradual promotion, fairly earned by meritorious service in the field, the rank of brigadier-general. They were all young, the eldest not being over thirty-five when he received his commission, the youngest under thirty. Senator Fessenden of Maine had two sons who rose to the rank of brigadier-general; a third with the rank of captain, was killed in the second battle of Bull Run. Vice-President Hamlin had one son who attained the rank of brigadier-general; another who served as colonel. William H. Seward, jun., also reached the rank of brigadier-general. William H. Harris, son of Mr. Seward's successor in the Senate, honorably distinguished himself in the service. Benjamin Harrison of Indiana commanded a brigade before he was thirty, and made a military record which did honor to the illustrious name which he inherits. Fletcher Webster lost his life while bravely commanding a Massachusetts regiment in a war which his illustrious father's exposition of the Constitution had served the arm of the Government to maintain. Similar instances in the Union Army might be cited in great number. The same disposition was manifested on the Confederate side, and it may be said with truth that almost every name which grew into prominence in the long political contention between the North and the South was represented in the conflict of arms to which it led.
That men without previous military education should prove to be intelligent, brave, efficient, and skillful officers, was a constant surprise to the foreign critics of our campaigns. The commanders of batteries, of regiments, of brigades, not to speak of battalions and companies, were almost wholly from the volunteer service. Many of the volunteers, as already indicated, rose to the command of divisions, a few to the command of corps, and in some marked instances to the command of separate armies and to the military direction of vast districts. At the same time the value of strict military training was shown by the superior prominence attained in proportion to their numbers by the officers who had been educated at the West Point Military Academy. The wisdom of maintaining that institution was abundantly vindicated by the results of the war. Its graduates worked in harmony with the volunteers, and, as matter of fact, the field offices they held during the war were, with few exceptions, under the law for the organization of the volunteer forces. They imparted to the entire army the discipline, the organization, and the efficiency of a regular military establishment. There was naturally at the beginning of the war a certain jealousy between the regulars and the volunteers, but none that did not yield to the patriotism and good sense of both. The two services were rapidly and most happily combined, and demonstrated by their joint prowess the strength of the country for defense, and, if need by, for offense. Without maintaining a large military establishment, which besides its expense entails multiform evils, it was shown that the Republic possesses in the strong arms and patriotic hearts of its sons an unfailing source of military power.
CHAPTER III.
Mr. Johnson continued his public receptions, his interviews and his speeches for nearly a month after his accession to the Presidency—until indeed, in the judgment of his most anxious and most cautious friends, he had talked too much. All were agreed that the time had now come when he must do something. He evidently sought to impress the country with the belief that his Administration was to be marked by a policy of extraordinary vigor, that the standard of loyalty was to be held high, that the leaders of the Rebellion were to be dealt with in a spirit of stern justice. His position gave satisfaction to those who thought the chief conspirators against the Union could not be punished too severely; but it led to uneasiness among the anti-slavery philanthropists, lest, in wreaking vengeance upon white traitors, the President might leave the loyal negroes unprotected in their newly acquired civil rights.
On the 10th of May the President issued a proclamation declaring substantially that actual hostilities had ceased, and that "armed resistance to the authority of the Government in the insurrectionary States may be regarded as at an end." This great fact being officially recognized, the President found himself face to face with the momentous duty of bringing the eleven States of the Confederacy into active and harmonious relations with the Government of the Union. He had reached the point where he must take the first step in the serious task of Reconstruction, and the country awaited it with profound interest. He had in other official stations given distinct intimations of the conditions which he considered essential to the restoration of a rebel State to its place in the Union, but in the numerous speeches he had delivered since his accession to the Presidency he had studiously avoided a repetition of his former position, and had with equal care refrained from a public committal to any specific line of action.
The manner in which the insurrectionary States should be dealt with at the close of hostilities had been the object of solicitous inquiry throughout the war. It was indeed often a question of angry disputation in Congress, in the press, and among the people. The tentative and somewhat speculative efforts in this field, which had been made or at least encouraged by Mr. Lincoln, had confused rather than solved the problem, and yet his action could not fail to exert an embarrassing and possibly a decisive influence upon the course of his successor. Difficult as it might have proved to Mr. Lincoln himself to go forward on the line he had marked out, it would obviously prove far more difficult to Mr. Johnson to maintain the same policy with the inevitable result of renewing the conflict with Congress which Mr. Lincoln had only allayed and postponed—not removed. A brief review of what Mr. Lincoln had done in the field of Reconstruction will give a more accurate knowledge of President Johnson's policy, which afterwards became the subject of prolonged and bitter controversy. Mr. Lincoln had naturally been anxious from the beginning of the war to re-establish civil government in any and every one of the Confederate States where actual resistance should cease. A military autocracy controlling people who were engaged in the ordinary avocations of life was altogether contrary to his views of expediency, altogether repugnant to his conceptions of right.
At the end of the first year of the war (April, 1862) the rebel fortifications on the Lower Mississippi and the city of New Orleans surrendered to the guns of Farragut, and not long afterwards a movement was made to re-establish in Louisiana a civil government that would be loyal to the Union. The first step was the election on the third of December, 1862, of Benjamin F. Flanders and Michael Hahn, old citizens of Louisiana, as Representatives in Congress.
On the 9th of February, 1863, when the Thirty-seventh Congress was drawing to its close, Messrs. Flanders and Hahn were admitted to their seats, though not without contention and misgiving. They had been chosen at an election ordered by the military governor of Louisiana (General George F. Shepley), and their credentials bore the signature of that official. General Shepley had undoubtedly been permitted, if not specifically authorized, by the National Administration to take this step; though it was afterwards perceived by all friends of the Union to be useless if not mischievous, and its repetition for the ensuing Congress was seriously opposed. On the 21st of November—only a fortnight before the election ordered by General Shepley—Mr. Lincoln addressed him a note which in effect was a warning that Federal officers, not citizens of Louisiana, must not be chosen to represent the State in Congress. "We do not," said the President, referring to the South, "particularly need members of Congress from those States to enable us to get along with legislation here. What we do want is the conclusive evidence that respectable citizens of Louisiana are willing to be members of Congress and to swear support to the Constitution, and that other respectable citizens are willing to vote for them and send them. To send a parcel of Northern men here as representatives, elected as would be understood (and perhaps really so) at the point of the bayonet, would be disgraceful and outrageous."
Previous to this instruction to Governor Shepley, Mr. Lincoln had been in correspondence with Cuthbert Bullett, Esq., a Southern gentleman, who enjoyed his personal regard and confidence. In a letter to Mr. Bullett of July 28, 1862, the President reviewed some of the impracticable methods of re-establishing civil authority desired by certain citizens of Louisiana who were very anxious to prevent any interference with property in slaves. Mr. Thomas Durant was the spokesman for this large class of men who professed anxiety for the fate of the Union but were unwilling to do any thing to aid in saving it. Mr. Lincoln's letter is very characteristic. He says, "Mr. Durant speaks of no duty, apparently thinks of none resting upon Southern Union men. He even thinks it injurious to the Union cause that they should be restrained in trade and passage without taking sides. They are to touch neither a sail nor a pump, live merely as passengers ('dead-heads' at that) to be carried snug and dry throughout the storm and safely landed right side up. Nay, more, even a mutineer is to go untouched, lest these sacred passengers receive an accidental wound. Of course the Rebellion will never be suppressed in Louisiana if the professed Union men there will neither help to do it nor permit the Government to do it without their help. . . . What would you do in my position? Would you drop the war where it is, or would you prosecute it in the future with elder-stalk squirts charged with rose-water? Would you deal lighter blows rather than heavier ones? Would you give up the contest leaving every available means unapplied? I am in no boastful mood: I shall not do more than I can, but I shall do all I can to save the Government, which is my sworn duty as well as my personal inclination. I shall do nothing in malice. What I deal with is too vast for malicious dealing."
The pressure of these political events in Louisiana had increased Mr. Lincoln's desire to attempt some form of reconstruction, and the admission of Messrs. Flanders and Hahn to seats in the House of Representatives had to a certain degree misled him as to the temper and tendency of Congress on the whole subject of re-establishing civil government in the insurrectionary States. During the year 1862, when the original movements were made in Louisiana, the military situation grew so critical and so discouraging that the Administration had no time for the consideration of any other subject than the raising of men and money. But in 1863 the Government was incalculably strengthened by General Meade's victory at Gettysburg and by the opening of the Mississippi River to navigation in consequence of General Grant's capture of the rebel stronghold of Vicksburg. The latter event practically destroyed the military power of the Rebellion on the western side of the Mississippi, and opened, as Mr. Lincoln hoped, a great opportunity for the formation of State governments loyal to the Union and able to aid effectively in the overthrow of the Rebellion.
To this end the President proposed a definite plan of reconstruction in his message of December 8, 1863, sent to the Thirty-eighth Congress at its first session. He accompanied the message with a public proclamation which more fully embodied his conception of the necessities of the situation and the duties of the loyal people. According to the message of the President "the constitutional obligation to guarantee to every State in the Union a Republican form of government and to protect the State in such cases is explicit and full. . . . This section of the Constitution contemplates a case wherein the elements within a State favorable to Republican government in the Union may be too feeble for an opposite and hostile element external to or even within the State, and such are precisely the cases with which we now are dealing. An attempt to guarantee and protect a revived State government constructed in whole or in preponderating part from the very element against whose hostility and violence it is to be protected is simply absurd. There must be a test by which to separate the opposing elements so as to build only from the sound, and that test is a sufficiently liberal one which accepts as sound whoever will make a sworn recantation of his former unsoundness."
In his proclamation the President made known that "to all persons who have directly or by implication participated in the existing rebellion except as herein after excepted, a full pardon is hereby granted with restoration of all rights of property except as to slaves, upon condition that every such person shall take and subscribe an oath, and thenceforward maintain said oath inviolate," to the following effect: viz., to "henceforth faithfully support and defend the Constitution and the Union of the States thereunder," and to abide by all laws and proclamations "made during the existing rebellion, having reference to slaves, so long and so far as not modified or declared void by decision of the Supreme Court." Those excepted from the benefits of the pardon were first the civil and diplomatic officers of the Confederate Government; second, those who left judicial stations in the United-States Government to aid the rebellion; third, military officers of the Confederacy above the rank of colonel, and naval officers above the rank of lieutenant; fourth, all who left seats in the Congress of the United States to aid the rebellion; fifth, all who left the National Army or Navy to aid the rebellion; sixth, all who had treated colored persons found in the military or naval service of the United States otherwise than as prisoners of war.
The President was willing to intrust the task of establishing State governments to a population whose loyalty to the Union should be tested by taking the prescribed oath, provided that the population should be sufficiently numerous to cast a vote one-tenth as large as that cast at the Presidential election of 1860. A government thus established, the President declared, "shall be recognized as the true government of the State, and the State shall receive thereunder the benefits of the constitutional provision which declares that the United States shall guarantee to each State a Republican form of government." At the same time the President was careful to affirm that "whether members sent to Congress from any State shall be admitted to seats constitutionally rests exclusively with the respective Houses, and not to any extent with the Executive."
The Union men in Louisiana had been so encouraged by the admission of Flanders and Hahn to seats in Congress, that they were active in the year 1863 in maturing schemes for re-establishing a loyal State government. But the decisive step was not taken until the opening of the ensuing hear. On the 8th of January, 1864, a large Free-State Convention was held in New Orleans, which proved to be in harmony with the National Administration at all points, accepting the emancipation policy of the President as the basis of all their action. General Banks, then in command of the military district, at once issued a proclamation as requested by the convention, appointing an election for State officers on the 22d of February—the officers chosen, to be installed on the 4th of March. Michael Hahn was elected governor as the especial representative of the President's firm yet cautious and moderate policy. B. F. Flanders and C. Roselius were the opposing candidates, the former representing a more radical the latter a more conservative policy than the President was willing to accept.
Mr. Hahn was duly installed in office on the 4th of March, and on the 15th the President issued an order declaring the new governor to be "invested until further orders with the powers exercised hitherto by the military governor of Louisiana." In a personal note to Governor Hahn at the same time the President said, "I congratulate you on having fixed your name in history as the first Free-State Governor of Louisiana. Now you are about to have a convention which among other things will probably define the elective franchise. I barely suggest for your private consideration whether some of the colored people may not be let in, as for instance the very intelligent and especially those who have fought gallantly in our ranks. They would probably help in some trying time in the future to keep the jewel of Liberty in the family of Freedom." The form of the closing expression, quite unusual in Mr. Lincoln's compact style, may have been pleonastic, but his meaning was one of deep and almost prophetic significance. It was perhaps the earliest proposition from any authentic source to endow the negro with the right of suffrage, and was an indirect but most effective answer to those who subsequently attempted to use Mr. Lincoln's name in support of policies which his intimate friends instinctively knew would be abhorrent to his unerring sense of justice.
The scheme of reconstruction in Louisiana was completed by the assembling of a convention to form a constitution for the State. The convention was organized early in April, and its most important act was the prompt incorporation of an anti-slavery clause in the organic law. By a vote of seventy to sixteen the convention declared slavery to be forever abolished in the State. The constitution was adopted by the people on the fifth day of the ensuing September by a vote of 6,836 in its favor to 1,566 against it. As the total vote of Louisiana at the Presidential election of 1860 was 50,510, the new State government had obviously fulfilled the requirement of the President's proclamation in demonstrating that it was sustained by more than one-tenth of that number. The President's scheme had therefore so far succeeded that Louisiana was at least in form under a loyal government. It was, however, a government that could not sustain itself for a day if the military support of the Nation should be withdrawn, and therein lay the weakness of the President's plan.
The action of Louisiana was accompanied, indeed in some parts preceded, by a similar action in Arkansas. A loyal governor (Isaac Murphy) was elected, an anti-slavery constitution adopted, a government duly installed over the State, and senators and representatives in Congress were elected in due form. These successive steps were taken in the early spring of 1864. But when the senators, Messrs. Fishback and Baxter, presented themselves for admission to the body to which they were thus chosen, it was found that Congress was not in sympathy with what was derisively termed the "short-hand" method of reconstruction proposed in Mr. Lincoln's proclamation. Mr. Sumner, when the credentials were presented, offered a resolution declaring that "a State pretending to secede from the Union, and battling against the General Government to maintain that position, must be regarded as a rebel State subject to military occupation and without representation on this floor until it has been re-admitted by a vote of both Houses of Congress; and the Senate will decline to entertain any such application from any such rebel State until after such a vote of both Houses."
Mr. Sumner's resolution embodied a radical and absolute dissent from the President's scheme of reconstruction. The Senate, however, was not quite ready for so emphatic a declaration, and the resolution was referred with the credentials to the Judiciary Committee. A few weeks alter, on the 27th June (1864), the committee made a report covering substantially the ground of Mr. Sumner's resolution. By a vote of twenty-seven to six the State declared that "the rebellion is not so far suppressed in Arkansas as to entitle that State to representation in Congress, and therefore Messrs. Fishback and Baxter are not entitled to admission as senators." Similar action was taken in the House—the representatives not being allowed to take seats.
The conflict between the President and Congress on the subject of reconstruction was made still more apparent by the further action of each. After the Arkansas case had been disposed of, Congress passed a bill embodying its own views of the proper process of reconstruction. By this measure it was directed that the President should appoint a provisional governor for each of the States declared to be in rebellion; that said governor should, as soon as military resistance to the United States ceased, make an enrolment of the white male citizens, submitting to each an oath to support the Constitution. If a majority of the citizens should take and subscribe the oath, the governor was to order an election of delegates to a constitutional convention.
It was made the duty of the convention as its initial proceeding to declare on behalf of the people of the State their submission to the Constitution of the United States, and to incorporate in their own organic law three fundamental provisions: First, No one who has held any office under the Confederate Government except civil offices merely ministerial, or military office below the rank of colonel, shall vote for or be a member of the Legislature, or shall vote for or be elected governor. Second, Involuntary servitude shall be forever prohibited, and the freedom of all persons in the State guaranteed. Third, No debt, State or Confederate, created in aid of the rebellion shall ever be paid. In the event of a constitution being framed with these provisions inserted, and then adopted by a majority of the popular vote as already enrolled, the governor shall certify that fact to the President, and thereupon the President, after obtaining the assent of Congress, shall recognize the State government so established as a legitimate and constitutional government competent to elect senators and representatives in Congress and electors of President and Vice-President.
This bill was passed on the last day of the session, July 4, 1864. It was commonly regarded as a rebuke to the course of the President in proceeding with the grave and momentous task of reconstruction without waiting the action or invoking the counsel of Congress. Some of the more radical members of both Houses considered the action of the President as beyond his constitutional power, and they were very positive and peremptory in condemning it. But Mr. Lincoln, with his habitual caution and wise foresight, had specially avoided any form of guaranty, or even suggestion to the States whose reconstruction he was countenancing and aiding, that their senators and representatives would be admitted to seats in Congress. Admission to membership he took care to advise them was a discretion lodged solely in the respective Houses. What he had done was in his own judgment clearly within his power as Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of the Union, and was thus obviously and solely an Executive act.
Mr. Lincoln was not therefore in the humor to be rebuked by Congress. Though the least pretentious of men, he had an abounding self-respect and a full appreciation of the dignity and power of his office. He had given careful study to the duties, the responsibilities, and the limitations of the respective departments of the Government, and he was not willing that his judgment should be revised or his course censured, however indirectly, by a co-ordinate branch of the Government. He therefore declined to sign the bill. He did not veto it but let it quietly die. Four days after the session had closed, he issued a proclamation in which he treated the bill merely as the expression of an opinion by Congress as to the plan of Reconstruction—"which plan," he remarked, "it is thought fit to lay before the people for their consideration."
The President further stated in his proclamation that he had "already propounded one plan of restoration," and that he was "unprepared by a formal approval of this bill to be inflexibly committed to any single plan of restoration," and also "unprepared to declare that the Free-State constitutions and governments already adopted and installed in Louisiana and Arkansas shall be set aside and held for naught, thereby repelling and discouraging the loyal citizens who have set up the same as to further effort;" and also "unprepared to declare a constitutional competency in Congress to abolish slavery in the States"—though "sincerely hoping at the same time that a constitutional amendment abolishing slavery in all the States might be adopted." While with these objections Mr. Lincoln could not approve the bill, he concluded his proclamation in these words: "Nevertheless I am fully satisfied with the plan of restoration contained in this bill as one very proper for the loyal people of any State choosing to adopt it, and I am and at all times shall be prepared to give executive aid and assistance to any such people so soon as the military resistance to the United States shall have been suppressed in any such State and the people thereof shall have sufficiently returned to their obedience to the Constitution and Laws of the United States—in which cases military governors will be appointed with directions to proceed according to the bill."
It must be frankly admitted that Mr. Lincoln's course was in some of its aspects extraordinary. It met with almost unanimous dissent on the part of Republican members of Congress, and violent opposition from the more radical members of both Houses. If Congress had been in session at the time, a very rancorous hostility would have been developed against the President. Fortunately the senators and representatives had returned to their States and districts before the proclamation was issued, and they found the people united and enthusiastic in Mr. Lincoln's support. No contest was raised, therefore, by the great majority of those who had sustained the bill which the President had refused to approve. The pending struggle for the Presidency demanded harmony, and by common consent agitation on the question was abandoned. Two of the ablest, most fearless, most resolute men then in public life—Senator Wade of Ohio, and Representative Henry Winter Davis of Maryland—were exceptions to the general rule of acquiescence. They were respectively the chairmen in Senate and House of the "Committees on the Rebellious States," and were primarily and especially responsible for the bill which the President criticized in his proclamation. They united over their own signatures in a public "Protest" against the action of Mr. Lincoln. The paper was prepared by Mr. Davis, which of itself was guaranty that it would be able, caustic, and unqualified. Mr. Wade was known to be a man of extraordinary courage, both physical and moral. To these qualities Mr. Davis added a highly cultivated mind and a style of writing which in political controversy has rarely been surpassed—a style at once severe, effective, and popular.
The "Protest" embodied a sharp contrast between the President's plan of Reconstruction in his proclamation of December 8 (1863), and that contained in the bill presented by Congress for his approval. "The bill," said Messrs. Wade and Davis, "requires a majority of the voters to establish a State government, the proclamation is satisfied with one-tenth; the bill requires one oath, the proclamation another; the bill ascertains voters by registering, the proclamation by guess; the bill exacts adherence to existing territorial limits, the proclamation admits of others; the bill governs the rebel States by law equalizing all before it, the proclamation commits them to the lawless discretion of military governors and provost marshals; the bill forbids electors for President (in the rebel States), the proclamation with the defeat of the bill threatens us with civil war for the exclusion of such votes."
The criticisms of the President's course closed with the language of stern admonition if not indeed of absolute menace. The act of the President was denounced as "rash and fatal," and as "a blow at the friends of the Administration, at the rights of humanity, and at the principles of Republican government." The President was warned that the support of the Republican party was "of a cause and not of a man," that the "authority of Congress is paramount and must be respected," that the "whole body of Union men of Congress will not submit to be impeached by him or rash and unconstitutional legislation," that he must "confine himself to his Executive duties—to obey and execute, not make the laws;" that he "must suppress armed rebellion by arms and leave political re-organization to Congress."
No political result followed the publication of this remarkable paper save that it probably defeated the renomination of Mr. Davis for Congress. The Democrats were of course hostile to it in spirit and in letter, and the leading Republicans saw in it the seeds of a controversy between the President and Congress which might rapidly grow into dangerous proportions. The very strength of the paper was, by one of the paradoxes that frequently recur in public affairs, its special weakness. It was so powerful an arraignment of the President that of necessity it rallied his friends to his support with that intense form of energy which springs from the instinct of self-preservation. It was at once seen and profoundly realized by the great majority of the loyal people that even if the President had fallen into an error, no result could possibly flow from adhering to it that would prove half so perilous to the Union cause as would dissension and division in the ranks of those who were relied upon to keep the Government in the control of an Administration, devoted heart and soul to the preservation of the Union. It was, they thought, safer to follow Mr. Lincoln who had all the power in his hands than to follow Messrs. Wade and Davis who had no power in their hands.
When Congress convened in December (1864), Mr. Lincoln, who had meanwhile been re-elected to the Presidency, studiously refrained from any reference in his annual message to the controversy over his proclamation. With the intuitive sagacity and caution which never failed him, he did not touch upon the question of reconstruction. He had foreseen that the unhappy differences with which the close of the previous session of Congress had been marked might be renewed, and thence lead the party into warring factions if he should again attempt to urge his own views. This was undoubtedly a disappointment to those who had regarded the controversy with the President as only postponed till the assembling of Congress, and who were impatiently awaiting its renewal. The assumed views of the President were antagonized later in the session by the passage of a joint resolution "declaring certain States not entitled to representation in the electoral college." This was done to cut off the electoral votes (should any such votes be returned) of Louisiana and Arkansas, satirically referred to by the opponents of the Administration policy as Mr. Lincoln's "ten per cent States"—in allusion to the permission given to one-tenth of the population to organize a State government.
The passage of this joint resolution, to which great importance was attached by the critics of the President, was met by Mr. Lincoln in a spirit and with a tact which deprived its authors of all sense of triumph. In a brief special message (February 8, 1865) the President declared that he had "signed the joint resolution in defence to the view of Congress implied in its passage and presentation." In his own view, however, the two Houses of Congress, convened under the twelfth article of the Constitution, "have complete power to exclude from counting all electoral votes deemed by them to be illegal, and it is not competent for the Executive to defeat or obstruct the power by a veto, as would be the case if his action were at all essential to the matter." The President further informed Congress that "he disclaims all right on the part of the Executive to interfere in any way in the matter of canvassing or counting the electoral votes, and he also disclaims that by signing said resolution he has expressed any opinion of the recitals of the preamble or any judgement of his own upon the subject of the resolution."
The message was indeed throughout a sarcastic reflection upon the action of Congress. It was as if the President had said, "You have passed a resolution making certain declarations which nobody controverts: you have claimed certain powers which nobody denies. If I should sign your resolution without explanation, it might imply my right to veto it, and thereby take from you your undoubted Constitutional power. You are really guilty of weakening your own prerogatives under the Constitution by asking me to assent to their existence. If you intended your resolution as a reflection on my policy of reconstruction, you might have spared yourself the trouble, for that policy never contemplated the slightest violation of the rights and prerogatives of Congress." The message throughout was a singularly apt illustration of that keen perception and abounding common sense which made Mr. Lincoln so formidable an antagonist in every controversy political and official in which he became involved. His triumph was complete both in the estimation of Congress and of the people.
Mr. Lincoln really adhered with unexpected tenacity to the plan of reconstruction which he had attempted, and which, putting aside the opprobrious names applied to it, was called by himself "The Louisiana Plan." He had stubbornly maintained his ground against the almost unanimous protest of Republican senators and representatives, and he justified himself by elaborate argument. He had been much influenced by the representations made by General Banks who was commander of the Military District, and much impressed by the perfect faith in its success entertained by leading men of the State. In the last speech he ever made (April 11, 1865), referring to the twelve thousand men who had organized the Louisiana Government, the President said, "If we now reject and spurn them, we do our utmost to disorganize and disperse them. We say to the white man, you are worthless or worse. We will neither help you nor be helped by you. To the black man we say, this cup of liberty which these, your old masters, hold to your lips, we will dash from you, and leave you to the chances of gathering the spilled and scattered contents in some vague and undefined when and where and how. If this course, discouraging and paralyzing to both white and black, has any tendency to bring Louisiana into proper practical relations with the Union, I have so far been unable to perceive it. If, on the contrary, they recognize and sustain the new government of Louisiana, the converse of all this is made true. We encourage the hearts and nerve the arms of twelve thousand men to adhere to their work and argue for it, and proselyte for it, and fight for it, and grow it, and ripen it to a complete success. The colored man too, in seeing all united for him, is inspired with vigilance and with energy and daring to the same end. Grant that he desired the elective franchise. He will yet attain it sooner by saving the already advanced steps towards it than by running backward over them. Concede that the new government of Louisiana is only to what it should be as the egg is to the fowl, we shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it."
Mr. Lincoln described also at some length the process by which he had been induced to try the Louisiana plan. Like all his conclusions it was reached after much consultation and serious reflection. He was conscientiously convinced that, all things considered, it was the promptest and most feasible process of re-establishing civil government in the insurrectionary States. Mr. Lincoln was especially anxious that neither the ruling power nor the conquered rebels should be needless procrastination become accustomed to military government—a form of administration which he regarded as very tempting, but very sure to undermine, and in time to destroy, the real spirit of independence and self-government. It was his belief, as he expressed it himself, that "We must begin with and mold from disorganized and discordant elements, nor is it a small additional embarrassment that we, the loyal people, differ among ourselves as to the mode, manner, and measure of reconstruction. As a general rule I abstain from reading the reports of attacks upon myself, wishing not to be provoked by that to which I cannot properly make answer. In spite of this precaution, however, it comes to my knowledge that I am much censured for some supposed agency in setting up and seeking to sustain the new State Government of Louisiana. In this I have done just so much and no more than the public knows." He then gave somewhat full details of the successive steps he had taken in his attempt at reconstruction,—steps already detailed with precision in this chapter. After completing his recital he stated with entire frankness that he had done nothing else. "Such," said he, "has been my only agency in setting up the Louisiana Government." He was thus explicit because certain members of Congress, in the excitement caused by the hostility to the President's plan, had been rash enough to insinuate that the President had a secret understanding with certain rebels, who, as soon as the President's hand was withdrawn, would turn the control of the State over to the unrepentant Democracy who had been so active in precipitating the war.
Concluding his remarks to an audience loath to leave and eager to hear every word from lips which seemed then to be those of an oracle, Mr. Lincoln dwelt with great seriousness, even with solemnity, upon this subject which now wholly engrossed his mind. The contest of arms was over, but the President realized that the great pressure of duty which had been weighing him down was not removed by the coming of peace. Its character was changed, its exactions were perhaps less urgent, but withal he felt that the war would have been in vain unless, in exchange for all its agonies and all its burdens, there should come to the institutions of the country some great reforms, and to the people a new baptism of patriotic interest and philanthropic duty. He dwelt with deep solicitude on the situation in the rebellious States, and, unable to speak as fully as he desired, and with evident emotion, "It may be my duty to make some new announcement to the people of the South. I am considering, and shall not fail to act when satisfied that action will be proper."
The "new announcement" to the South was never made. Three days after it was promised, Mr. Lincoln met his fate. What changes might have been wrought if he had lived to make the promised exposition can only be surmised. It may be well believed however that the confidence reposed in him universally in the North, and the respect he had as universally won in the South, would have given such commanding power to his counsel as would have seriously influenced, if not promptly directed, the mode of reconstruction. Mr. Lincoln's position when he spoke his closing words was very different from that which he held when Senator Wade and Henry Winter Davis ventured upon a controversy with him the preceding summer—boldly assailing his measures and challenging his judgment. He was at that time a candidate for re-election, undergoing harsh criticism and held rigidly accountable for the prolongation of the war. Now he stood triumphant in every public relation—chosen by an almost unprecedented vote to his second term, the rebellion conquered, the Union firmly re-established! Never since Washington's exalted position at the close of the Revolution, or his still more elevated station when he entered upon the Presidency, has there been a man in the United States of so great personal power and influence as Mr. Lincoln then wielded.
It was perhaps not unnatural that from the day of Mr. Lincoln's death, his views as to the proper mode of reconstruction should become a subject of warm dispute between the partisans of different theories; yet no controversy could be less profitable for the single reason that it was absolutely incapable of settlement. Beyond his experiment with the "Louisiana plan" Mr. Lincoln had never given the slightest indication either by word or deed as to the specific course he would adopt in the rehabilitation of the insurrectionary States. His characteristic anecdote of the young preacher who was exhorted "not to cross 'Big Muddy' until he reached it" was a perfect illustration of the painstaking, watchful habit in which he dealt with all public questions. He invariably declined to anticipate an issue or settle a question before it came to him in its natural, logical order. Louisiana was wholly in the possession of the Union troops in 1862-3, and presented a question that to his view had ripened for decision. Hence his prompt and definite procedure in that State. Severely challenged for what his accusers deemed a blunder, Mr. Lincoln defended himself with fair and full statements of fact, and was apparently justified in adopting the policy he had chosen. He had fortified his own judgment, as he frankly declared, "by submitting the Louisiana plan in advance to every member of the Cabinet, and every member approved it." His "promise was out," he said, to sustain this policy, but "bad promises," he significantly added, "are better broken than kept, and I shall treat this as a bad promise and break it whenever I shall be convinced that keeping it is adverse to the public interest."
It is apparent therefore that Mr. Lincoln had no fixed plan for the reconstruction of the States. Pertinently questioned on the subject by one whose personal relations entitled him to unreserved confidence, the President answered by one of his homely and apt illustrations: "The pilots on our Western rivers steer from point to point as they call it—setting the course of the boat no farther than they can see; and that is all I propose to myself in this great problem." This position was practically re-affirmed in the speech, already copiously quoted. "So great peculiarities pertain to each State, and such important and sudden changes occur in the same State, and withal so new and so unprecedented is the whole case, that no exclusive and inflexible plan can safely be prescribed in details and collaterals. Such exclusive and inflexible plan would only become a new entanglement." Such was the latitude of judgment which the President reserved to himself, such the liberty of action which he deemed essential to the complex problem, for whose solution there was no prescribed rule, no established precedent. On all questions of expediency the President maintained not only the right but the frequent necessity of change. "Principle alone," said he, "must be inflexible."
Encouraged by the result of the controversy, if it may be so termed, between the President and Congress as to the mode of reconstruction, Andrew Johnson determined to re-organize the government of his State. Though Vice-President he was still discharging the functions of military governor of Tennessee. A popular convention, originating from his recommendation and assembling under his auspices, was organized at Nashville on the ninth day of January, 1865. Membership of the body was limited to those who "give an active support to the Union cause, who have never voluntarily borne arms against the Government, who have never voluntarily given aid and comfort to the enemy." The manifest purpose, indeed the proclaimed intention, was to re-organize the State, so as to bring all its powers distinctly and unreservedly under the control of that small minority of the population which had remained loyal to the Government of the Union. The preamble which prefaced their action cited the Declaration of Rights in the constitution of Tennessee to the effect that "all power is inherent in the people, and the people have an inalienable right to alter, reform, to abolish the Government in such manner as they may think proper." This was followed by a declaration which might well be viewed as a non sequitur. "Therefore," said the convention, "a portion of the citizens of the State of Tennessee and of the United States of America in convention assembled do propound the following amendments to the Constitution, which when ratified by the sovereign, loyal people shall be and constitute a part of the permanent constitution of the State of Tennessee."
It was very easy by strict logic to state grave objections to this mode of procedure. It was easy to say that "a portion of the people" did not constitute "the people" in the sense in which the phrase was used in the constitution of Tennessee. It was easy to charge that the proposed mode of proceeding embodied all the heresy of the Dorr Rebellion of Rhode Island in 1842-43, which had fallen under the animadversion of every department of the United States Government. But in answer to such objections, Governor Johnson, and those who co-operated with him, could urge that the objections and cavilings of all critics seemed to ignore the controlling fact that they were acting in a time of war, and were pursuing the only course by which the power of civil government in Tennessee could be brought to the aid of the military power of the National Government. Tennessee, as Johnson bluntly maintained, could only be organized and controlled as a State in the Union by that portion of her citizens who acknowledged their allegiance to the Government of the Union.
Under this theory of procedure the popular convention proposed an amendment to the State constitution "forever abolishing and prohibiting slavery in the State," and further declaring that "the Legislature shall make no law recognizing the right of property in man." The convention took several other important steps, annulling in whole and in detail all the legislation which under Confederate rule had made the State a guilty participant in the rebellion. Thus was swept away the ordinance of Secession, and the State debt created in aid of the war against the Union. All these proceedings were submitted to a popular vote on the 22d of February, and were ratified by an affirmative vote of 25,293 against a negative vote of 48. The total vote of the State at the Presidential election of 1860 was 145,333. Mr. Lincoln's requirement of one-tenth of that number was abundantly complied with by the vote on the questions submitted to the popular decision. Small as was the ratio of avowed Union men at the time, Mr. Johnson argued with much confidence that Tennessee, freed from coercion, would adhere to the Union by a large majority of her total vote. His faith was based on the fact that when the plain and direct question of Union or Disunion was submitted to the people in the winter of 1860-61, the vote for the former was 91,813, and for the latter only 24,749.
Under this new order of things, William G. Brownlow, better known to the world by his soubriquet of "Parson" Brownlow, was chosen governor without opposition on the fourth day of March, 1865, the day of Mr. Lincoln's second inauguration. The new Legislature met at Nashville a month later, on the 3d of April, and on the 5th ratified the Thirteenth Amendment; thus adding the abolition of slavery by National authority to that already decreed by the State. The Legislature completed its work by electing two consistent Union men, David T. Patterson and Joseph S. Fowler, to the United-States Senate. The framework of the new Government was thus completed and in operation before the death of Mr. Lincoln. It had not received the recognition and approval of the National Government in any specific or direct manner. But Andrew Johnson was inaugurated as Vice-President on the 4th of March, and the only form of government left in Tennessee was that of which Brownlow was the acknowledged head. The crucial test would come when the senators and representatives, elected under the Brownlow government, should apply for their seats in Congress.
The course pursued in Tennessee afforded a significant index to Mr. Johnson's conception of what was deemed necessary to prepare a State that had been in rebellion, for its full rehabilitation as a member of the Federal Union. His position was rendered still more pronounced and positive by his declarations in the remarkable speech delivered by him when he took the oath of office as Vice-President: "Before I conclude this brief Inaugural address in the presence of this audience, . . . I desire to proclaim that Tennessee, whose representative I have been, is free. She has bent the tyrant's rod, she has broken the yoke of slavery, she stands to-day redeemed. She waited not for the exercise of power by Congress; it was her own act; and she is now as loyal, Mr. Attorney-General, as the State from which you come. It is the doctrine of the Federal Constitution that no State can go out of this Union. Thank God, Tennessee has never been out of the Union! It is true the operations of her government were for a time interrupted; there was an interregnum; but she is in the Union, and I am her representative. This day (March 4, 1865) she elects her Governor and her Legislature, which will be convened on the first Monday of April, and her senators and representatives will soon mingle with those of her sister States; and who shall gainsay it, for the Constitution provides that to every State shall be guaranteed a Republican form of government."
The very positive declaration by Mr. Johnson that "Tennessee has never been out of the Union" indicated the side he would take in a pending controversy which was waxing warm between the disputants. Whether the act of Secession was void ab initio and really left the State still a member of the Union, or whether it did, however wrongfully, carry the State out of the Union as claimed by those engaged in the Rebellion, was one of the purely abstract political questions concerning which men will argue without ceasing,—reaching no conclusion because there is no conclusion to be reached. Both propositions were at the time affirmed and denied with all the earnestness, indeed with all the temper, which distinguished the mediæval theologians upon points of doctrine once regarded as essential to salvation, but the very meaning of which is scarcely comprehended by modern ecclesiastics. With his mental acumen and with his never-failing common sense, Mr. Lincoln declined to take part in the discussion. In his last public speech he treated this question with admirable perspicuity, and with his wonted felicity of homely illustration: "I have been shown what is supposed to be an able letter," said he, "in which the writer expresses regret that my mind has not seemed to be definitely fixed upon the question whether the seceded States, so called, are in the Union or out of it. . . . It would perhaps add astonishment to his regret to learn that as it appears to me, that question has not been and is not a practically material one, and that any discussion of it could have no effect other than the mischievous one of dividing friends. As yet, whatever it may become, the question is bad as the basis of a controversy—a merely pernicious abstraction. We all agree that the seceded States, so called, are out of their proper practical relation with the Union, and that the sole object of the Government is to get them back into their proper practical relation. I believe it is easier to do this without deciding or even considering whether those States have ever been out of the Union. The States finding themselves once more at home, it would seem immaterial to me to inquire whether they had ever been abroad."
The essential difference between the upholders and the opponents of this theory was not shown in the practical treatment proposed for the States which had been in rebellion. It was in truth a difference only in degree. The stoutest defenders of the dogma that the States had not been out of the Union did not propose to permit the re-organization of their local governments except upon conditions prescribed by the National authority, and did not assert the rightfulness of their claims to representation in the Senate and House until the prescribed conditions were complied with. Those who protested against the dogma did not assert the right to keep the States out of the Union, but only claimed an unrestricted power to exact as the prerequisite of re-admission such conditions as might be deemed essential to the public safety—especially such as would most surely prevent another rebellion against National authority. The two schools in short marked the dividing line between the radical and the conservative. Perhaps another feature might still more clearly indicate the difference between the two. The conservatives thought the process of reconstruction could be accomplished under the sole authority and direction of the Executive Department of the Government, while the radicals held it to be a matter for the exclusive determination of Congress, affirming that the President's right of intervention was limited to approval or veto of the bills which Congress should send to him, and to the execution of all laws which should be constitutionally enacted.
An extra session of Congress seemed specially desirable at the time, and had one been summoned by the President, many of the troubles which subsequently resulted might have been averted. The propriety of ordering an earlier assemblage of the Thirty-ninth Congress than that already provided by the Constitution had been discussed to a very considerable extent among the members of the Thirty-eighth, as its final adjournment (March 3, 1865) approached. The rebellion seemed tottering to its fall, and it was the belief of many of the leading men both of the Senate and the House, that it might be a special advantage if Congress should be in session when the final surrender of the Confederate forces should be made. But the prevailing opinion was in favor of leaving the matter to Mr. Lincoln's discretion. It was felt by the members that if the situation should demand the presence of Congress, Mr. Lincoln would promptly issue his proclamation, and if the situation should not demand it, the presence of Congress might prove hurtful, and would certainly not be helpful. The calamity of Mr. Lincoln's death had never entered into the public mind, and therefore no provision was made with any view of its remotest possibility.
Mr. Johnson, however, is scarcely to be blamed for not calling an extra session of Congress. Aside from his confidence in his own power to deal with the problems before him, he shared, no doubt, in the general dislike which Presidents in recent years have shown for extra sessions. Indeed, to the Executive Department of the Government, Congress, even in its regular sessions, is a guest whose coming is not welcomed with half the heartiness with which its departure is speeded. But an extra session, especially at the beginning of an Administration, is looked upon with almost superstitious aversion, and is always to be avoided if possible. It was remembered that all the woes of the elder Adams' Administration, all the intrigues which the choleric President fancied that Hamilton was carrying on against him in connection with our French difficulties, had their origin in the extra session of May, 1797. It was remembered also that the unpopularity which attached to the Presidency of Mr. Madison was connected with the two extra sessions which his timid Administration was perhaps too ready to assemble. So deeply was the hostility to extra sessions implanted in the minds of political leaders by the misfortunes of Adams and Madison that another was not called for a quarter of a century. In September, 1837, Mr. Van Buren inaugurated the ill-fortune of his Administration by assembling Congress three months in advance of its regular session. John Tyler in turn never recovered from the dissensions and disasters of the extra session of May, 1841,—though it was precipitated upon him by a call issued by President Harrison. All those extra sessions except the one in Mr. Van Buren's Administration had been held in May, and even in his case the proclamation summoning Congress was issued in May. No wonder, therefore, that ill-luck came to be associated with that month. When the necessity of assembling Congress was forced upon Mr. Lincoln by the firing on Sumter, Mr. Seward warned him that in any event he must not have the session begin in May. It must be confessed therefore that the precedents were sufficiently alarming to influence Mr. Johnson against an extra session. Nor was there any popular demand for it because the President's policy had not as yet portended trouble or strife in the ranks of the Republican party.
CHAPTER IV.
Declining to seek the advice of Congress in the embarrassments of his position, President Johnson necessarily subjected himself to the counsel and influence of his Cabinet. He had inherited from Mr. Lincoln an organization of the Executive Department which, with the possible exception of Mr. Seward, was personally agreeable to him and politically trusted by him. He dreaded the effect of changing it, and declined upon his accession to make room for some eminent men who by long personal association and by identity of views on public questions would naturally be selected as his advisers. He had not forgotten the experience and the fate of the chief magistrates who like himself had been promoted from the Vice-Presidency. He instinctively wished to avoid their mistakes and to leave behind him an administration which should not in after years be remembered for its faults, its blunders, its misfortunes.
The Federal Government had existed fifty-two years before it encountered the calamity of a President's death. The effect which such an event would produce upon the personnel of the Government and upon the partisan aspects of the Administration was not therefore known prior to 1841. The Vice-President in previous years had not always been on good terms with the President. In proportion to his rank there was no officer of the Government who exercised so little influence. His most honorable function—that of presiding over the Senate—was purely ceremonial, and carried with it no attribute of power except in those rare cases when the vote of the Senate was tied—a contingency more apt to embarrass than to promote his political interests. He was, of course, neither sought nor feared by the crowds who besieged the President. He was therefore not unnaturally thrown into a sort of antagonism with the Administration—an antagonism sure to be stimulated by the coterie who, disappointed in efforts to secure favor with the President, were disposed to take refuge in the Cave of Adullam, where from chagrin and sheer vexation the Vice-President had too frequently been found. The class of disappointed men who gathered around the Vice-President held a political relation not unlike that of the class who in England have on several occasions formed the Prince of Wales' party—composed of malcontents of the opposition, who were on the worst possible terms with the Ministry.
John Tyler, as President Johnson well knew from personal observation, began his Executive career with an apparent intention of following in the footsteps of the lamented Harrison, to which course he had been indeed been enjoined by the dying President in words of the most solemn import. Tyler gave assurances to his Cabinet that he desired them to retain their places. But the suggestion—which he was too ready to adopt—was soon made, that he would earn no personal fame by submissively continuing in the pathway marked out by another. With this uneasiness implanted in his mind, it was impossible that he should retain a Cabinet in whose original selection he had no part, and whose presence was the symbol of a political subordination which constantly fretted him. A cause of difference was soon found; difference led to irritation, irritation to open quarrel, and quarrel ended in a dissolution of the Cabinet five months after Mr. Tyler's accession to the Executive chair. The dispute was then transferred to his party, and grew more angry day by day until Tyler was driven for political shelter and support to the Democratic Party, which had opposed his election.
Mr. Fillmore had not been on good terms with General Taylor's Administration, and when he succeeded to the Presidency he made haste to part with the illustrious Cabinet he found in power. He accepted their resignations at once, and selected heads of departments personally agreeable to himself and in political harmony with his views. He did not desert his party, but he passed over from the anti-slavery to the pro-slavery wing, defeated the policy of his predecessor, secured the enactment of the Fugitive-slave Law, and neutralized all efforts to prohibit the introduction of slavery in the Territories. In this course Mr. Fillmore had the support of the great leaders of the party, Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster, but he disregarded the young Whigs who under the lead of Mr. Seward were proclaiming a new political dispensation in harmony with the advancing public opinion of the world. Mr. Fillmore did not leave his party, but he failed to retain the respect and confidence of the great mass of Northern Whigs; and his administration came to an end in coldness and gloom for himself, and with the defeat, and practically the destruction, of the party which had chosen him to his high place four years before. His faithlessness to General Scott gave to the Democratic candidate an almost unparalleled victory. Scott encountered defeat. Fillmore barely escaped dishonor.
With the ill-fortune of these predecessors fresh in his memory, Mr. Johnson evidently set out with the full intention not merely of retaining the Cabinet of his predecessor, not merely of co-operating with the party which elected him, but of espousing the principles of its radical, progressive, energetic section. A Southern man, he undoubtedly aspired to lead and control Northern opinion—the opinion which had displayed the moral courage necessary to the prolonged anti-slavery struggle in Congress, and had exhibited the physical courage to accept the gage of battle and prosecute a gigantic war in support of deep-rooted convictions. The speeches of the President had defined his position, and the Nation awaited the series of measures with which he would inaugurate his policy. Public interest in the subject would indeed have caused greater impatience if public attention had not in every Northern State been intently occupied in welcoming to their homes the troops, who in thinned ranks and with battered standards were about to close their military career and resume the duties of peaceful citizens.
The personal character and political bias of the members of the Cabinet, and especially their opinions respecting the policy which the President had indicated, became therefore a matter of controlling importance. The Cabinet had undergone many changes since its original organization in March, 1861. The substitution of Mr. Stanton for Mr. Cameron and of Mr. Fessenden for Mr. Chase has already been noticed; but on the day of Mr. Lincoln's second inauguration Mr. Fessenden returned to the Senate, resuming the seat which he had left the July previous, and which had in the interim been filled by Nathan A. Farwell, an experienced ship-builder and ship-master of Maine, who possessed an extraordinarily accurate knowledge of the commercial history of the country. Mr. Farwell is still living, vigorous in health and in intellect.
When Mr. Fessenden left the Treasury, he was succeeded by Hugh McCulloch, whose valuable service as Comptroller of the Currency had secured for him the promotion with which Mr. Lincoln now honored him. Mr. McCulloch was a native of Maine, who had gone to the West in his early manhood, and had earned a strong position as a business man in his Indiana home. He was a descendant of that small but prolific colony of Scotch and Scotch-Irish who had settled in northern New England, and whose blood has enriched all who have had the good fortune to inherit it. Mr. McCulloch was a devoted Whig, and was so loyal to the Union that during the war he could do nothing else than give his influence to the Republican party. But he was hostile to the creed of the Abolitionist, was conservative in all his modes of thought, and wished the Union restored quite regardless of the fate of the negro. He believed that unwise discussion of the slavery question had brought our troubles upon us, and that it would be inexcusable to continue an agitation which portended trouble in another form. The policy which he desired to see adopted was that which should restore the Rebel States to their old relations with the Union upon the freest possible conditions and within the shortest possible time.
Mr. Stanton, though originally a pro-slavery Democrat, had by the progress of the war been converted to the creed of the most radical wing of the Republican party. The aggressive movement, the denunciatory declarations made by Mr. Johnson against the "rebels" and "traitors" of the South, immediately after his accession to the Presidency, were heartily re-echoed by Mr. Stanton, who looked forward with entire satisfaction to the vigorous policy so vigorously proclaimed. Mr. Stanton's tendency in this direction had been strengthened by the intolerance and hatred of his old Democratic friends,—of whom Judge Black was a type,—who lost no opportunity to denounce him as a renegade to his party, as one who had been induced by place to forswear his old creed of State rights. Such hostility should, however, be accounted a crown of honor to Mr. Stanton. He certainly came to the public service with patriotic and not with sordid motives, surrendering a most brilliant position at the bar, and with it the emolument of which in the absence of accumulated wealth his family was in daily need.
Mr. Stanton's observation and wide experience through the years of the war had taught him to distrust the Southern leaders. Now that they had been subdued by force, yielding at the point of the bayonet when they could no longer resist, he did not believe that they should be regarded as returning prodigals to be embraced and wept over, for whom fatted calves should be killed, and who should be welcomed at once to the best in their father's house. He thought rather that works meet for repentance should be shown by these offenders against the law both of God and man, that they should be held to account in some form for the peril with which they had menaced the Nation, and for the agony they had inflicted upon her loyal sons. Mr. Stanton was therefore, by every impulse of his heart and by every conviction of his mind, favorable to the policy which the President had indicated, if not indeed assured, to the people.
Gideon Welles of Connecticut, Secretary of the Navy, was a member of the original Cabinet of Mr. Lincoln. He belonged by habit of thought and former affiliation to the Democratic party: he had united with the Republicans solely upon the slavery issue. With the destruction of slavery his sympathies with the party were lessened. The industrial policy which the Republicans had adopted during the war was distasteful to Mr. Welles in time of peace. He had been a bureau-officer in the Navy Department during Mr. Polk's administration, and believed in the wisdom of the tariff of 1846, to which he gave the support of his pen. He possessed a strong instinct, but manifested little warmth of feeling or personal attachment to any one. He was a man of high character, but full of prejudices and a good hater. He wrote well, but was disposed to dip his pen in gall. He was careful as to matters of fact, fortified his memory by an accurate diary, and had an innate love of controversy. With slavery abolished, the tendency of his mind was towards a lenient policy in Southern matters and for the promptest mode of reconstruction.
James Harlan of Iowa was Secretary of the Interior. Caleb B. Smith, who was a member of Mr. Lincoln's original Cabinet, had resigned in order to accept a Federal judgeship in Indiana, and his able assistant-secretary, John P. Usher, had been promoted to the head of the department, fulfilling his trust to Mr. Lincoln's satisfaction. He in turn resigned, and was succeeded by Mr. Harlan who was nominated by Mr. Lincoln, and unanimously confirmed by the Senate on the 9th of March—the confirmation to take effect on the 15th of May. It was an exceptional form of appointment; but when the date was reached, President Johnson insisted that the new Secretary should assume the duties of the office. Mr. Harlan was a well-educated man with strong natural parts. He had shown admirable capacity for public affairs in various positions in Iowa, and had served that State efficiently in the Senate of the United States, which he entered March 4, 1855, at thirty-five years of age. He was a pronounced and unflinching Republican, ready from personal attachment to Mr. Lincoln to follow him in any public policy, and while somewhat distrustful of Johnson was undoubtedly gratified and re-assured by the tone of his speeches. Mr. Harlan was not hasty in judgment but thoughtful and reflective, and aimed always to be just in his conclusions.
William Dennison of Ohio was Postmaster-General. He had succeeded Montgomery Blair during the Presidential campaign of 1864, when that officer's resignation was asked by the President as a means of appeasing the unreasonable and unreasoning body of men who had attempted to divide the Republican party at the height of the war by the nomination of General Frémont as a candidate for the Presidency. Mr. Dennison was an amiable man of high principles and just intentions, but he was not endowed with executive force or the qualities of a leader. He had secured the warm friendship of Mr. Lincoln during his service as war governor of Ohio. His selection of president of the convention that nominated Mr. Lincoln a second time was due to the zeal and the warmth with which he had supported the National Administration. His sympathies and associations were all with the strong Republican element of the country, and he was sure to be firm and exacting in his views of a reconstruction policy.
James Speed was Attorney-General. He had succeeded Edward Bates in December, 1864, and was selected for reasons which were partly personal, partly public. He was a Kentuckian and a Clay Whig, two points in his history which strongly attracted the favor of Mr. Lincoln. But more than all, he was the brother of Joshua Speed, with whom in young manhood, if not indeed in boyhood, Mr. Lincoln had been closely associated in Illinois. Of most kindly and generous nature, Mr. Lincoln was slow to acquire intimacies, and had few close friendships. But those who knew him well cannot fail to remember the kindling eye, the warmth of expression, the depth of personal interest and attachment with which he always spoke of "Josh Speed," and the almost boyish fervor with which he related incidents and anecdotes of their early association. James Speed, to whom Mr. Lincoln had been thus drawn, was a highly respectable lawyer, and was altogether a fit man to succeed Mr. Bates as the Border-State member of the Cabinet. As a Southern man, he was expected to favor a lenient policy towards his offending brethren, and was supposed to look coldly upon much that was implied in the President's declarations.
Of the six Cabinet ministers thus enumerated, it will be seen that three—Mr. McCulloch, Mr. Welles, and Mr. Speed—might be regarded as favoring a conservative plan of reconstruction, and three—Mr. Stanton, Mr. Harlan, and Mr. Dennison—a radical plan. These positions were thus assigned from circumstantial evidence rather than from direct declarations of the gentlemen themselves. At a time so critical, responsible officials were naturally reserved and cautious in the expression of opinions. But it was instinctively perceived by close observers of public events, that in correctly estimating the influence of the Cabinet upon the policy of President Johnson, great consideration must be given to the attitude which Mr. Seward might assume. If his strength should go with Mr. Stanton and the radical wing of the Cabinet, the President would be readily and completely confirmed in the line of policy frequently forecast in his speeches. If on the other hand, Mr. Seward should follow the generally anticipated course, and take ground against the harsh and vengeful spirit indicated by the President, a struggle would ensue, of which the issue would be doubtful.
During the period in which Mr. Johnson had been copiously illustrating the guilt of treason, and avowing his intention to punish traitors with the severest penalty known to the law, Mr. Seward lay wounded and helpless. His injuries, received at the hands of the assassin, Payne, at almost the same moment in which Booth fired his fatal shot at the President, were at first considered mortal. The murderous assault came only a short time after a severe injury Mr. Seward had received in consequence of being violently thrown from his carriage. The shock to his nervous system from the attack of the assassin was so great that his physicians did not for some days permit him to learn the fate of the President, or even to know that his own son, Mr. Frederick Seward, who had been his faithful and able assistant at the State Department, was also one of the victims of the plot of assassination, and was lying, as it was feared, and indeed generally believed, at the point of death.
To the joy no less than to the surprise of the entire country Mr. Seward rallied and regained his strength very rapidly. He was wounded on the night of the 14th of April. By the first of May he had so far recovered as to be informed somewhat minutely of the sorrowful situation. By the tenth of the month he received visits from the President and his fellow-members of the Cabinet, and conferred with them on the engrossing questions that pressed upon the Administration. On the 20th he repaired to the Department of State—which then occupied the present site of the north front of the Treasury building—and held conference with foreign ministers, especially with the minister of France, touching the complication in Mexico. From that time onward, though still weak, and bowed down with grief by the death of Mr. Lincoln and the possibly impeding death of one still nearer to him, Mr. Seward gave close attention to public affairs. The need of action and of energy so pressed upon him that he found no time to utter lamentation, none to indulge even in the most sacred personal grief. The heroic element of the man was displayed at its best. His moral strength, his mental fibre, his wiry constitution were all tested to their utmost, and no doubt to the serious shortening of his days.
Mr. Seward feared that the country was in danger of suffering very seriously from a possible, if not indeed probable, mistake of the Administration. In the creed of his own statesmanship, there was no article that comprehended revenge as a just motive for action. No man had suffered more of personal obloquy from the South than he, no one living had received deeper personal injury from the demoniac spirit, the wicked inspiration of the rebellion. But he did not for one moment permit those causes which would have powerfully influenced lower natures to control his action, or even to extort a single word of passionate resentment.
It had been Mr. Seward's fortune at different epochs in the country's history and in different phases of his own career to incur the harshest censure from political associates. He had been accused at one time of urging the anti-slavery cause so far as to endanger the Union; and, when the Union was endangered, he was accused of being willing to sacrifice the anti-slavery cause to save it. "The American people," said he in February, 1861, "have in our day two great interests,—one the ascendency of freedom, the other the integrity of the Union. The slavery interest has derived its whole political power from bringing the latter object into antagonism with the former. Twelve years ago Freedom was in danger, and the Union was not. . . . To-day practically Freedom is not in danger, and the Union is. With the loss of the Union, all would be lost." Mr. Seward, influenced by this belief, went farther in the direction of conciliation for the avoidance of war than his associates were willing to follow. His words gave offense to some who had long been his most earnest supporters,—a fact thus pointedly recognized by him: "I speak now singly for Union, striving if possible to save it peaceably; if not possible, then to cast the responsibility upon the party of slavery. For this singleness of speech, I am suspected of infidelity to freedom." But Mr. Seward held his course firmly, and waited for vindication as men of rectitude and true greatness can afford to wait. "I refer myself not to the men of my time, but to the judgment of history."
A similar dedication of himself to the judgment of history was in Mr. Seward's opinion again demanded of him. He was firmly persuaded that the wisest plan of reconstruction was the one which would be speediest; that for the sake of impressing the world with the strength and the marvelous power of self-government, with its Law, its Order, its Peace, we should at the earliest possible moment have every State restored to its normal relations with the Union. He did not believe that guarantee of any kind beyond an oath of renewed loyalty was needful. He was willing to place implicit faith in the coercive power of self-interest operating upon the men lately in rebellion. He agreed neither with the President's proclaimed policy of blood, nor with that held by the vast majority of his own political associates, which, avoiding the rigor of personal punishment, sought by exclusion from political honor and emolument to administer wholesome discipline to the men who had brought peril to the Government and suffering to the people.
Mr. Seward was undoubtedly influenced in no small degree in these conclusions by the habit of mind he had acquired in conducting the foreign affairs of the Government during the period of the war. He had keenly felt the reproach, the taunt, and the open or ill-disguised satisfaction reflected by a large number of the public men of Europe that we were no longer and could never again be "the United States of America." He felt that the experiment of Imperial Government in Mexico, then in progress under Maximilian, was a disturbing element, and tended by possible conflicts on this continent to embroil us with at least two great European powers. The defense against that unwelcome alternative, and the defense against its evil result, if it should come, would in his judgment be found in a completely restored Union—with the National Government supreme, and all its parts working in harmony and in strength. He believed moreover that the legislation which should affect the South, now that peace had returned, should be shared by representatives of that section, and that as such participation must at last come if we were to have a restored Republic, the wisest policy was to concede it at once, and not nurture by delay a new form of discontent, and induce by withholding confidence a new phase of distrust and disobedience among the Southern people.
Entertaining these views, and deeply impressed with the importance of incorporating them in the plan of reconstruction, Mr. Seward rose from his sick-bed, pale, emaciated, and sorrowful, to persuade his associates in the Government, of the wisdom and necessity of adopting them. He had undoubtedly a hard task with the President. The two men were naturally antagonistic on so many points that agreement and cordiality seemed impossible upon a question in regard to which they held views diametrically opposite. Mr. Johnson inherited all his political principles from the Democratic party. He had been filled with an intense hatred of the Whigs and with an almost superstitious dread of the Federalists. Mr. Seward and he were therefore political antipodes. The one was the eulogist and follower of John Quincy Adams, the other was a sincere believer in the creed and the measures of Andrew Jackson. As Adams and Jackson had agreed only in devotion to the Union, so now Seward and Johnson seemed to have no other principle of Government in common, and that principle was equally strong in each.
Not only was this obstacle of inherent difference of political view in Mr. Seward's way, but he also encountered an intense personal prejudice which even while he was disabled by wounds had been insinuated into the President's mind. Nor had Mr. Seward any force of popularity at the time with the Republican party of the country. It had fallen to his lot during the four eventful years of the war to assume unpleasant responsibilities and to perform ungracious acts. He was not at the head of a department where popular applause awaited his ablest work, or where popular attention was attracted by the most brilliant triumphs of his diplomatic correspondence.
The successful placing of a vast loan among the people redounded everywhere to the praise of Mr. Chase. The gaining of a victory in the field reflected credit upon Mr. Stanton. But a series of diplomatic papers far outreaching in scope and grasp those of any statesman or publicist with whom he was in correspondence, recalling in skill the best efforts of Talleyrand, and in spirit the loftiest ideals of Jefferson, did not advance the popularity of Mr. Seward because the field of his achievements and triumphs was not one in which the masses of the people took an active interest. The most difficult and in many cases the most successful of diplomatic work is necessarily confidential for long periods. In legislative halls, discussion on questions of interest enlists public attention and holds the popular mind in suspense before the fate of the measure is decided. But the dispatches and arguments of a minister of Foreign Affairs, which may lead to results of great consequence to his country, are not gazetted till long after they have borne their fruit; and the public rejoicing in the conclusion, seldom turns to examine the toilsome process by which it was attained. It was from the comparative isolation of the Department of State, four years removed from active contact with the people, that Mr. Seward now assumed the task of controlling the new President and directing his policy on the weightiest question of his Administration.
Those who thoroughly knew Mr. Seward through all the stages of his political career were aware that, great as he was in public speech, in the Senate, at the Bar, before popular assemblies, cogent and powerful as he had so often proved with his pen, his one peculiar gift, greater perhaps than any other with which he was endowed, was his faculty, in personal intercourse with one man or with a small number of men, of enforcing his own views and taking captive his hearers. With the President alone, or with a body no larger than a Cabinet, where the conferences and discussion are informal and conversational, Mr. Seward shone with remarkable brilliancy and with power unsurpassed. He possessed a characteristic rare among men who have been long accustomed to lead,—he was a good listener. He gave deferential attention to remarks addressed to him, paid the graceful and insinuating compliment of seeming much impressed, and offered the delicate flattery, when he came to reply, of repeating the argument of his opponent in phrase far more affluent and eloquent than that in which it was originally stated.
In his final summing up of the case, when those with whom he was conferring were, in Dr. Johnson's phrase, "talked out," Mr. Seward carried all before him. His logic was clear and true, his illustration both copious and felicitous, his rapid citation of historical precedents surprising even to those who thought they had themselves exhausted the subject. His temper was too amiable and serene for stinging wit or biting sarcasm, but he had a playful humor which kept the minds of his hearers in that receptive and compliant state which disposed them the more readily to give full and generous consideration to all the strong parts of his argument. It might well indeed be said of Mr. Seward as Mr. Webster said of Samuel Dexter, "The earnestness of his convictions wrought conviction in others. One was convinced and believed and assented because it was gratifying and delightful to think and feel and believe in unison with an intellect of such evident superiority."
Equipped with these rare endowments, it is not strange that Mr. Seward made a deep impression upon the mind of the President. In conflicts of opinion the superior mind, the subtle address, the fixed purpose, the gentle yet strong will, must in the end prevail. Mr. Seward gave to the President the most luminous exposition of his own views, warm, generous, patriotic in tone. He set before him the glory of an Administration which should completely re-establish the union of the States, and re-unite the hearts of the people, now estranged by civil conflict. He impressed him with the danger of delay to the Republic and with the discredit which would attach to himself if he should leave to another President the grateful task of reconciliation. He pictured to him the National Constellation no longer obscured but with every star in its orbit, all revolving in harmony, and once more shining with a brilliancy undimmed by the smallest cloud in the political heavens.
By his arguments and his eloquence Mr. Seward completely captivated the President. He effectually persuaded him that a policy of anger and hate and vengeance could lead only to evil results; that the one supreme demand of the country was confidence and repose; that the ends of justice could be reached by methods and measures altogether consistent with mercy. The President was gradually influenced by Mr. Seward's arguments, though their whole tenor was against his strongest predilections and against his pronounced and public committals to a policy directly the reverse of that to which he was now, almost imperceptibly to himself, yielding assent. The man who had in April avowed himself in favor of "the halter for intelligent, influential traitors," who passionately declared during the interval between the fall of Richmond and the death of Mr. Lincoln that "traitors should be arrested, tried, convicted, and hanged," was now about to proclaim a policy of reconstruction without attempting the indictment of even one traitor, or issuing a warrant for the arrest of a single participant in the Rebellion aside from those suspected of personal crime in connection with the noted conspiracy of assassination.
In this serious struggle with the President, Mr. Seward's influence was supplemented and enhanced by the timely and artful interposition of clever men from the South. A large class in that section quickly perceived the amelioration of the President's feelings, and they used every judicious effort to forward and develop it. They were ready to forget all the hard words of Johnson, and to forgive all his harsh acts, for the great end to be gained to their States and their people by turning him aside from his proclaimed policy of punishing a great number of rebels with the utmost severity of the law. Johnson's wrath was evidently appeased by the complaisance shown by leading men of the South. He was not especially open to flattery, but it was noticed that words of commendation from his native section seemed peculiarly pleasing to him.
The tendency of his mind under such influences was perhaps not unnatural. It is a common instinct of mankind to covet in an especial degree the good will of the community among whom the years of childhood and boyhood are spent. Applause from old friends and neighbors is the most grateful that ever reaches human ears. When Washington's renown filled two continents, he was still sensitive respecting his popularity among the freeholders of Virginia. When Bonaparte had kingdoms and empires at his feet, he was jealous of his fame with the untamed spirits of Corsica, where among the veterans of Paoli he had received the fiery inspiration of war. The boundless admiration and gratitude of American never compensated Lafayette for the failure of his career in France. This instinct had its full sway over Johnson. It was not in the order of nature that he should esteem his popularity among Northern men, to whom he was a stranger, as highly as he would esteem it among the men of the South, with whom he had been associated during the whole of his career. In that section he was born. There he had acquired the fame which brought him national honors, and after his public service should end he looked forward to a peaceful close of life in the beautiful land which had always been his home.
Still another influence wrought powerfully on the President's mind. He had inherited poverty in a community where during the slave system riches were especially envied and honored. He had been reared in the lower walks of life among a people peculiarly given to arbitrary social distinction and to aristocratic pretensions as positive and tenacious as they were often ill-founded and unsubstantial. From the ranks of the rich and the aristocratic in the South, Johnson had always been excluded. Even when he was governor of his State or a senator of the United States, he found himself socially inferior to many whom he excelled in intellect and character. His sentiments were regarded as hostile to slavery, and to be hostile to slavery was to fall inevitably under the ban in any part of the South for the fifty years preceding the war. His political strength was with the non-slave-holding white population of Tennessee which was vastly larger than the slave-holding population, the proportion indeed being twenty-seven to one. With these a "good fellow" ranked all the higher for not possessing the graces or, as they would term them, the "airs" of society.
As Mr. Johnson grew in public favor and increased in reputation, as his talents were admitted and his power in debate appreciated, he became eager to compel recognition from those who had successfully proscribed him. A man who is born to social equality with the best of his community, and accustomed in his earlier years to its enjoyment, does not feel the sting of attempted exclusion, but is rather made pleasantly conscious of the prestige which inspires the adverse effort and can look upon its bitterness in a spirit of lofty disdain. Wendell Phillips, descended from a long line of distinguished ancestry, was amused rather than disconcerted by the strenuous but futile attempts to ostracize him for the maintenance of opinions which he lived to see his native city adopt and enforce. But the feeling is far different in a man who has experienced only a galling sense of inferiority. To such a one, advancing either in fortune or in fame, social prominence seems a necessity, without which other gifts constitute only the aggravations of life.
It was therefore with a sense of exaltation that Johnson beheld as applicants for his consideration and suppliants for his mercy many of those in the South who had never recognized him as a social equal. A mind of true loftiness would not have been swayed by such a change of relative positions, but it was inevitable that a mind of Johnson's type, which if not ignoble was certainly not noble, should yield to its flattering and seductive influence. In the present attitude of the leading men of the South towards him, he saw the one triumph which sweetened his life, the one requisite which had been needed to complete his happiness. In securing the good opinion of his native South, he would attain the goal of his highest ambition, he would conquer the haughty enemy who during all the years of his public career had been able to fix upon him the bade of social inferiority.
On the 29th of May (1865), nineteen days after Mr. Seward's first interview with President Johnson, and nine days after his first visit to the State Department, two decisive steps were taken in the work of reconstruction. Both steps proceeded on the theory that every act needful for the rehabilitation of the seceded States could be accomplished by the Executive Department of the Government. This was known to be the favorite doctrine of Mr. Seward, and the President readily acquiesced in its correctness. There in nothing of which a public officer can be so easily persuaded as of the enlarged jurisdiction which pertains to his station. If the officer be of bold mind, he arrogates power for purposes of ambition; and even with timid men power is often assumed as a measure of protection and defense. Mr. Johnson was a man of unquestioned courage, and was never afraid to assume personal and official responsibility when circumstances justified and demanded it. Mr. Seward had therefore no difficulty in persuading him that he possessed, as President, every power needful to accomplish the complete reconstruction of the rebellious States.
The first of these important acts of reconstruction, upon the expediency of which the President and Mr. Seward had agreed, was the issuing of a Proclamation of Amnesty and Pardon to "all persons who have directly or indirectly participated in the existing Rebellion" upon the condition that such persons should take and subscribe an oath —to be registered for permanent preservation—solemnly declaring that henceforth they would "faithfully support, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States and the union of the States thereunder;" and that they would also "abide by and faithfully support all laws and proclamation which have been made during the existing Rebellion, with reference to the emancipation of slaves." It was the first official paper which Mr. Seward attested as Secretary of State under President Johnson. He undoubtedly intended to signalize his return to health and his resumption of official duty by public participation in an act which he regarded as one of wisdom and mercy —an act which was wise because merciful.
The general declaration of amnesty was somewhat narrowed in its scope by the enumeration, at the end of the proclamation, of certain classes which were excepted from its benefit. In naming these classes a keen discrimination had been made as to the character and degree of guilt on the part of those who had participated in the Rebellion.
—First, "All diplomatic officers and foreign agents of the Confederate Government" were excluded. Their offense was ranked high because of their efforts to embroil us with other nations.
—Second, "All who left judicial stations under the United States to aid the Rebellion." They were held to be specially culpable because they had been highly honored by their Government, and because they could not, like many, plead in excuse the excitement and antagonisms which spring from an active participation in political affairs.
—Third, "All military and naval officers of the Confederacy above the rank of colonel in the army or lieutenant in the navy." The men who actually bore arms were, of course, the chief offenders; but holding officers only of high grade accountable, was intended as an act of marked and significant leniency to the multitude of the rank and file.
—Fourth, "All who left seats in the Congress of the United States to join the Rebellion." These should, indeed, have been first named, for they, above all other men, fomented the Rebellion in its early stages.
—Fifth, "All who resigned, or tendered resignations, in the Army or
Navy of the United States to evade duty in resisting the Rebellion."
These men were even more culpable than those who joined the Rebellion.
They were not openly traitors, but were popularly and significantly
termed "sneaks."
—Sixth, "All who have been engaged in treating otherwise than as lawful prisoners of war, persons found in the United-States service as officers, soldiers, or seamen." This was specially directed against those who had maltreated negro troops and attempted, by personal cruelty, to frighten them from the National service.
—Seventh, "All persons who have been, or are, absentees from the United States for the purpose of aiding the Rebellion." The men who had misled public opinion in England, and who hovered along the Canadian border during the war, concocting schemes for burning Northern cities, and for spreading the infection of yellow-fever and the plague of small-pox in the loyal States, were especially aimed at in this exclusion.
—Eighth, "All officers in the rebel service who had been educated at the United-States Military or Naval Academy." These men had received the bounty of the Government, shared its confidence, and were under peculiar obligation to defend it.
—Ninth, "All men who held the pretended offices of governors of States in insurrection against the United States." As the civil war had for its basis the dogma of State-rights, the chief executive officers of States represented in an especial manner the guilt of the Rebellion.
—Tenth, "All persons who left their homes within the jurisdiction and protection of the United States, and passed beyond the Federal military lines into the pretended Confederate States for the purpose of aiding the Rebellion." The personal guilt of these men lay in the fact that, according to their own theory of State-rights, they were traitors. They did not adhere to the States which gave them birth, or to the States of which they were citizens.
—Eleventh, "All persons who have been engaged in the destruction of the commerce of the United States upon the high seas, and all persons who have been engaged in destroying the commerce of the United States upon the lakes and rivers that separate the British Provinces from the United States." The acts of these men were specially reprobated because they did not proceed according to the laws of war. In the popular mind they were held amenable to the charge of piracy.
—Twelfth, "All persons who, at the time when they seek to obtain amnesty and pardon, are in military, naval, or civil confinement, as prisoners of war, or persons detained for offenses of any kind either before or after conviction." Many prisoners in the custody of the Government were charged with acts of peculiar cruelty or perfidy, especially with the committal of personal outrages which did not, in any degree, affect the fortunes of the war, and were not therefore entitled to the excuse of having been the necessities of a bad cause.
—Thirteenth, "All participants in the Rebellion, the estimated value of whose taxable property is over twenty thousand dollars." The intention of this exception was to draw the line between the men who could exert influence in their respective communities, and those who were necessarily led by others. Fixing this partition between voluntary and involuntary guilt on the property line was a favorite measure with President Johnson. It met with much opposition from the loyal as well as the disloyal.
A fourteenth class was excepted, not from the benefits of the proclamation of amnesty, but from the necessity of taking the oath demanded from the other classes. Full pardon was granted, without further act on their part, to all who had taken the oath prescribed in President Lincoln's proclamation of December 8, 1863, and who had thenceforward kept and maintained the same inviolate. The status of every man in the Confederate States was thus determined and proclaimed, —a procedure which was intended to be the corner-stone of the work of reconstruction.
Standing naked and unqualified these thirteen exceptions might seem to imply a harshness of treatment inconsistent with the spirit of forgiveness and generosity upon which Mr. Seward had been insisting, and to which the President had apparently assented. The classes excepted were more numerous and far more comprehensive than those excluded from amnesty under the proclamation issued by Mr. Lincoln on the 8th of December, 1863. That proclamation not only embodied the views of Mr. Lincoln, but was approved by Mr. Seward in whole and in detail. The difference between the two proclamations was not, however, radical, and was readily reconcilable with Mr. Seward's purpose. He had indeed equalized their attributes of mercy by inducing President Johnson to insert a proviso declaring that "special application may be made to the President for pardon by any person belonging to the excepted classes," and the assurance was added that "such clemency will be liberally extended for amnesty and pardon." Applications came in great numbers from the South. In the archives of the State Department there are some twenty-four large volumes recording the pardons granted in less than nine months after the proclamation. The aggregate number is nearly fourteen thousand, and the list includes prominent men of all classes in the South, who, recognizing the fact that the Rebellion had failed, turned, as the only alternative, to the Government which had conquered and was now ready to extend a magnanimous forgiveness. Many of those sought to place themselves in harmony with the restored Union, and looked forward hopefully to the events of the future. Many others, as it must be regretfully but truthfully recorded, appeared to have no proper appreciation of the leniency extended to them. They accepted every favor with an ill grace, and showed rancorous hatred to the National Government even when they knew it only as a benefactor.
Having by the proclamation extended amnesty on the simple condition of an oath of loyalty to the Union and the Constitution, and obedience to the Decree of Emancipation, the President had established a definite and easily ascertainable constituency of white men in the South to whom the work of reconstructing civil government in the several States might be intrusted. A circular from Mr. Seward accompanied the proclamation, directing that the oath might "be taken and subscribed before any commissioned officer, civil, military, or naval, in the service of the United States, or before any civil or military officer of a loyal State or Territory, who, by the laws thereof, may be qualified to administer oaths." Every one who took the oath was entitled to a certified copy of it, as the proof of his restoration to all civil rights, and a duplicate, properly vouched, was forwarded to the State Department, to be "deposited and remain in the archives of the Government." Mr. Seward had thus adapted the simplest, most convenient, and least expensive process for the administration of the oath of loyalty. Indeed the certifying officer was almost brought to the door of every Southern household. The mercy and grace of the Government fell upon the great mass of those who had been engaged in rebellion as gently and as plenteously as the rain from heaven upon the place beneath the feet of the offenders.
With these details complete, a second step of great moment was taken by the Government on the same day (May 29). A proclamation was issued appointing William W. Holden provisional governor of the State of North Carolina, and intrusting to him, with the co-operation of the constituency provided for in the first proclamation, the important work of reconstructing civil government in the State. The proclamation made it the duty of Governor Holden "at the earliest practicable period, to prescribe such rules and regulations as may be necessary and proper for assembling a convention—composed of delegates who are loyal to the United States and no others—for the purpose of altering or amending the Constitution thereof, and with authority to exercise, within the limit of said State, all the powers necessary and proper to enable the loyal people of the State of North Carolina to restore said State to its constitutional relations to the Federal Government and to present such a Republican form of State Government as will entitle the State to the guaranty of the United States therefor and its people against invasion, insurrections, and domestic violence."
It was especially provided in the proclamation that in "choosing delegates to any State Convention no person shall be qualified as an elector or eligible as a member unless he shall have previously taken the prescribed oath of allegiance, and unless he shall also possess the qualifications of a voter as defined under the Constitution and Laws of North Carolina as they existed on the 20th of May, 1861, immediately prior to the so-called ordinance of secession." Mr. Lincoln had in mind, as was shown by his letter to Governor Hahn of Louisiana, to try the experiment of negro suffrage, beginning with those who had served in the Union Army, and who could read and write; but President Johnson's plan confined the suffrage to white men, by prescribing the same qualifications as were required in North Carolina before the war. The convention that might be chosen by the voters whose qualifications were thus preliminarily defined, or the Legislature which the convention might order to meet, were empowered to prescribe the permanent qualifications of voters and the eligibility of persons to hold office under the Constitution and Laws of the State—"a power," as the President was careful to declare, "which the people of the several States composing the Federal Union have rightfully exercised from the origin of the Government to the present time."
The military commander of the Department of North Carolina and all officers and persons in the military and naval service of the United States were directed to aid and assist in carrying the proclamation into effect, and they were specially ordered to "abstain from hindering, impeding, or discouraging the loyal people in any manner whatever from the organization of a State Government as herein authorized." The several heads of the Executive Departments were directed to re-establish the entire machinery of the National Government within the limits of North Carolina. The Secretary of the Treasury was directed to nominate for appointment, collectors of customs, assessors and collectors of internal revenue, and such other officers of the Treasury Department as were authorized by law. The Postmaster-General was directed to re-establish the post-offices and postmasters. The United-States district judge was directed to hold courts in North Carolina, and the Attorney-General was ordered to "enforce the administration and jurisdiction of the Federal courts." In short, every power of the National Government in North Carolina was re-asserted, every function re-established, every duty re-assumed. In making appointments for office, it was ordered in the proclamation that "preference shall be given to qualified loyal persons residing within the districts where their respective duties are to be performed. But if suitable residents of the districts shall not be found, then persons residing in other States or districts shall be appointed."
A fortnight later, on the 13th of June, a proclamation was issued for the reconstruction of the civil government of Mississippi, and William L. Sharkey was appointed provisional governor. Four days later, on the 17th of June, a similar proclamation was issued for Georgia with James Johnson for provisional governor, and for Texas with Andrew J. Hamilton for provisional governor. On the 21st of the same month Lewis E. Parsons was appointed provisional governor of Alabama, and on the 30th Benjamin F. Perry was appointed provisional governor of South Carolina. On the 13th of July the list was completed by the appointment of William Marvin as provisional governor of Florida. The precise text of the North-Carolina proclamation, mutatis mutandis, was repeated in each one of those relating to these six States. The process was designed to be exhaustive by fully restoring every connection existing under the Constitution between the States and the National Government. Viewed merely as a theory it was perfect. The danger was that in the test of actual practice it might end like so many similar experiments in other countries. An opponent wittily characterized it as Government by diagram, accurately drawn on an Executive blackboard.
For the reconstruction of the other four States of the Confederacy different provisions were made. In Virginia Francis H. Pierpont had been made governor after the State had seceded and the State of West Virginia had been established. He was the head of the Loyal Government of Virginia, which gave its assent to the division of the State. His Government, the shell of which had been preserved after West Virginia's separate existence had been recognized by the National Government, with its temporary capital at Alexandria, was accepted by President Johnson's Administration as the legitimate Government of Virginia. All its archives, property, and effects, as was afterwards said by Thaddeus Stevens, were taken to Richmond in an ambulance. As early as the 9th of May President Johnson had issued a proclamation recognizing Mr. Pierpont as governor of the State, and assuring him that he would be "aided by the Federal Government, so far as may be necessary, in the lawful measures he may take for the extension and administration of the State Government throughout the geographical limits of said State." The same proclamation declared that "All acts and proceedings of the political, military, and civil organizations which have been in a state of insurrection and rebellion within the State of Virginia against the laws and authority of the United States are declared null and void." The proclamation further declared that any person assuming to exercise any authority in Virginia by virtue of a military of civil commission issued by Jefferson Davis, President of the so-called Confederate States, or by John Letcher, or William Smith, Governors of Virginia, "shall be deemed and taken as in rebellion against the United States, and dealt with accordingly."
A course not dissimilar to that adopted in Virginia was followed in Louisiana, Arkansas, and Tennessee. In all of them the so-called "ten per cent" governments established under Mr. Lincoln's authority were now recognized. Governor Hahn was held to be the true executive of Louisiana,—a concession all the more readily made, because, under the revised constitution of the State, the people would be called upon in the approaching autumn to choose his successor. In Arkansas also, the Government, with Isaac Murphy at its head, was now recognized; and in Tennessee the authority of William G. Brownlow as governor was promptly accepted as constitutional and regular. This Government, as already narrated, had been brought into existence by the earnest effort of Mr. Johnson in the period which had elapsed between his election and inauguration as Vice-President. The direct committal of the President to the legality of his own work was the controlling cause which led to the recognition of the Governments of the four States under consideration. But for the impossibility of disowning or in any way discrediting the existing Government of Tennessee, it is probably that the plan by which provisional governments were established in seven of the rebellious States would have been uniformly applied to the entire eleven which formed the Confederacy. The same executives would doubtless have been selected for provisional service, but there would have been evident advantage in treating all the States in precisely the same manner.
The scope and design of the President's reconstruction policy were thus made fully apparent. The work was committed to the white men of the several States, who, outside of the excepted classes, were ready to take the oath of allegiance to the Government. They were empowered to form the Convention which should shape the organic law of the State, and in that law they were authorized to establish the basis of suffrage,—a right which the President held to belong to the State, to be, indeed, inalienable from the State. It was, therefore, evident that the white men who were allowed to regain all the rights of citizenship by a mere oath of fidelity would not, in framing an organic law for the State, exclude the classes whom the President had excepted from pardon. The excluded classes had been the leaders, the commanders, the men of position, the friends and the patrons of those who, only less guilty because less influential and powerful, were now intrusted with the initial work in the re-establishment of civil Government in their respective States.
It was not a possible supposition that these men, when they assembled in convention, would exclude the entire leading class of the South, or even one member of it, from the full constitutional privileges and benefits of the civil Government they were about to re-organize. The suffrage conferred on others would, in like manner, be conferred on them: the offices of rank and emolument in the new Government would likewise be open to them, and it would thus be made evident that the President's exclusion of these classes was merely an inhibition from doing a preliminary work which others would do equally well for them. Unless, therefore, some other form of denial or exclusion should be announced,—and none other apparently was intended,—the President's policy would end in promptly handing over to the authors and designers of the Rebellion the complete control of the States whose civil power they had willfully perverted and turned against the National authority. Mr. Seward's magnanimity, his boundless confidence in human nature, had led him to believe that this was wise policy. He believed it so firmly that he had persuaded the President—against his own will and purpose —to adopt it, and to attempt its enforcement.
It soon became evident that President Johnson realized how completely he had excluded men of the colored race from any share of political power in the Southern States by his process of reconstruction. It is true that he stood loyally by the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, which had been submitted to Congress before his accession to the Presidency but had not yet been ratified by the States. He used his influence, which was commanding, to induce the Southern States to accept it in good faith. But he saw, as others had seen before him, that this was not going far enough to satisfy the reasonable desire of many in the North whom he felt it necessary to conciliate. To emancipate the negro and conceded to him no possible power wherewith to protect his freedom would, in the judgment of many Northern philanthropists, prove the merest mockery of justice. This sentiment wrought on Mr. Johnson so powerfully that against his own wish he was compelled to address a circular to his provisional governors, suggesting that the elective franchise should be extended to all persons of color "who can read the Constitution of the United States, and write their names, and also to those who own real estate valued at not less than two hundred and fifty dollar, and pay taxes thereon."
In writing to Governor Sharkey of Mississippi in relation to this subject the President argued that his recommendations touching colored suffrage could be adopted "with perfect safety," and that thereby "the Southern States would be placed, with reference to free persons of color, upon the same basis with the free States." That Mr. Johnson made this recommendation simply from policy and not from any proper conception of its inherent justice is indicated by the closing paragraph in his letter to Governor Sharkey. Indeed, by imprudent language the President made an unnecessary exposure of the character of his motives, and deprived himself of much of the credit which might otherwise have belonged to him. "I hope and trust," he wrote to his Mississippi governor, "that your convention will do this, and as a consequence the Radicals, who are wild upon negro franchise, will be completely foiled in their attempt to keep the Southern States from renewing their relations to the Union by not accepting their senators and representatives."
At this period the President did not contemplate a break with the Republican party, much less a coalition with its opponents. He had the vanity to believe, or was at least under the delusion of believing that —with the exception of those whom he denominated Radicals—he could induce the party to follow him. Mr. Seward had undoubtedly influenced him to this conclusion, as the Secretary of State indulged the same hopeful anticipation himself. The President seemed to have no comprehension of the fact that with inconsiderable exceptions the entire party was composed of Radicals, men who in aim and sympathy were hostile to the purposes indicated by his policy. His own radicalism, from which Mr. Seward had succeeded in turning him, was the radicalism of revenge upon the authors of the Rebellion. The radicalism to which he now contemptuously indicated his opposition was that which looked to the broadening of human rights, to philanthropy, to charity, and to good deeds. Every intelligent Republican saw that the attempt which the President was now making with his provisional governors to secure a partial franchise to the colored man, was really only a petition to the States to act in a certain manner upon a subject over which, by his own proclamation, their power of control was declared to be absolute. With the prejudices which inspired the South,—prejudices made still more intense by the victory of the Union,—it was altogether certain that the Southern Conventions would not extend the elective franchise or civil right of any kind to the colored men of any class. The Southern States would undoubtedly agree pro forma to the Thirteenth Amendment as a means of regaining their representation in Congress. Beyond that, so long as the National Government conceded their right of control, it was probable that every step which did not conflict with the Constitution and Laws of the United States would be taken by the Southern States to deprive the negro of all power or opportunity for advancement. Mr. Seward, by the generous instinct of his own philanthropy, believed all things for the Union, which had been regenerated by the emancipation of the slave, and hoped all things for the Southern people, who had been chastened by defeat. His philanthropy taught him a faith in others as strong as his own consciousness of right; and, by assuming the full responsibility of the President's position, he brought to its support thousands of advocates who, but for his personal influence and persuasive power, would have opposed and spurned it.
The whole scheme of reconstruction, as originated by Mr. Seward and adopted by the President, was in operation by the middle of July, three months after the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. Every step taken was watched with the deepest solicitude by the loyal people. The rapid and thorough change in the President's position was clearly discerned and fully appreciated. His course of procedure was dividing the Republican party, and already encouraging the hopes of those in the North who had been the steady opponents of Mr. Lincoln's war policy, and of those in the South who had sought for four years to destroy the Great Republic. It soon became evident that the Northern Democrats who had been opposed to the war, and the Southern Democrats who had been defeated in the war, would unite in political action, and that the course of the National Administration would exercise a potential influence upon their success or failure. In turn, the course of the National Administration would certainly be influenced, and its fate in large degree determined, by the conduct of the Southern men, in whom the President was placing unbounded trust. Public interest was therefore transferred for the time from the acts of the President at the National Capital to the acts of the Reconstruction conventions about to assemble in the Southern States.
CHAPTER V.
A great opportunity was now given to the South. It was given especially to the leading men of the South. Only a few weeks before, they had all been expecting harsh treatment, many, indeed, anticipated punishment, not a few were dejectedly looking forward to a life of exile and want. The President's policy, which had been framed for him by Mr. Seward, charged all this. Confidence took the place of apprehension, the fear of punishment was removed, those who conscious of guilt had been dreading expatriation were bidden by the supreme authority of the Nation to stay in their own homes, and to assist in building up the waste and desolate places.
Never in the history of the world had so mighty a rebellion been subdued. Never had any rebellion been followed by treatment so lenient, forgiving, and generous on the part of the triumphant Government. The great mass of those who had resisted the National authority were restored to all their rights of citizenship by the simple taking of an oath of future loyalty, and those excepted from immediate re-instatement were promised full forgiveness on the slightest exhibition of repentance and good works. Mr. Seward believed, and had induced the President to believe, that frank and open generosity on the part of the Government would be responded to in like spirit on the part of those who had just emerged from rebellion. The Administration, therefore, waited with confidence for its justification, which could be made complete only by the display of a manly appreciation and noble course on the part of those who had participated in the Rebellion.
The desire for a complete restoration of all the States to their normal position, as pictured so attractively by Mr. Seward, was general and deep throughout the North. The policy of the President was therefore essentially aided by the patriotic and ardent love for the Union,—a love always present with the loyal people of the free States, but developed in an extraordinary degree by the costly struggle which the slaveholders' rebellion had precipitated. If the Southern States should meet the overture of the Administration in the spirit in which it was made, the probability was decidedly in favor of their restoration to their old places without condition, without promise, without sacrifice. Observing men in the loyal States regarded such a policy not only as weak and maudlin, but as utterly insufficient and assuredly dangerous to the future safety of the Government. But they realized at the same time that the most important demands of far-seeing statesmanship and of true patriotism might be disregarded, and even contemned, by a wild, unreasoning wish of the people to see the old Government, in all its parts, promptly and fully re-established. The popular cry which demanded "the Union as it was, the Constitution as it is," was echoed by many from emotional love of country, and by many more from a conviction that the financial interests of the Government and the commercial interest of the people called for the speediest settlement of all political questions. The Administration believed, and with good reason, that the combined influence of sentiment for the Union and the supposed necessities of trade would overcome all obstacles, and that the rebellious States would be so promptly and completely reconstructed that their senators and representatives would be admitted at the beginning of the next session of Congress.
In forming an estimate of the probably response of the South to the plan of reconstruction now submitted, the Administration was certainly justified in believing that its own spirit of liberality and good will would be met with like spirit by those who, having failed in war, were specially interested in promptly securing all the conditions of a magnanimous peace. It could not anticipate that quibbles would be made by the defeated and lately suppliant parties, that captious objections would be interposed, that carping criticism would be indulged, that gross outrages would be perpetrated, that absurd conditions would be demanded, and that finally a postponement of the whole procedure would be hazarded, indeed its utter failure secured, by the lack of tact, by the willfulness, and by the apparent ignorance of the Southern men who were in control.
The kindness, consideration, gentleness of Mr. Seward's recommendations, instead of securing a return of like feeling, seemed rather to inflame the misjudging men of the South with a new sense of resentment. Instead of calling forth the natural and proper response, it appeared rather to impress them afresh with that vain imagination of Northern timidity which had always been the besetting weakness of the South. It seemed impossible at the time, it seems even more plainly impossible on a review of the facts after the lapse of years, that any body of reasonable men could behave with the ineffable folly that marked the proceedings of the Reconstruction Conventions in the South, and the still greater folly that governed the succeeding Legislatures of the lately rebellious States.
In the President's proclamation accompanying the appointment of provisional governors he had taken the ground that "the Rebellion, in its revolutionary progress, has deprived the people (of the revolting States) of all civil Government." It is evident, therefore, that the President—eager and even impatient as he was for the process of reconstruction to be completed—expected that a new Government would be built on the full recognition of the new order of things, casting behind all that pertained to the old, or had the spirit of the old. "No man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment, for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the rent is made worse." This Scripture was exactly applicable to the Southern Conventions which assembled for reconstruction. They could begin anew with organic laws adapted to the great revolution which had swept over them, or they could patch up the old constitutions now become indissolubly associated with a rebellion which had been fostered and protected under their provisions. In every State the Southern leaders chose the latter form of procedure. They assumed that the old constitutions were still in full force and vigor, and they made only such amendments to them as would in their judgment promptly insure to their States the right of representation in Congress. They did not even stop to submit these changes to the popular vote, but assumed for their own assemblages of oligarches the full power to modify the organic laws of their States—an assumption without precedent and without repetition in the history of State constitutions in this country, and utterly subversive of the fundamental idea of Republican Government.
With these incomplete and ill-digested changes in the organic laws of their respective States, the Reconstruction conventions usurped legislative power, and hastily proceeded to order the election of representatives in Congress. The Congressional elections proved to be little else than partisan assemblages under the dictatorial direction of rebel authorities—just as the Reconstruction Conventions were, in their membership and their organization, little else than consulting bodies of Confederate officers under the rank of brigadier-general, actually sitting throughout their deliberations in the uniform of the rebel service, and apparently dictating to the Government of the Union the grounds on which they would consent to resume representation in the National Congress. A joint committee of Congress subsequently commented with appropriate directness upon this offensive phase of the Southern Conventions. "Hardly is the war closed," said the committee, "before the people of the insurrectionary States come forward and haughtily claim, as a right, the privilege of participating at once in that Government which they have for four years been fighting to overthrow. Allowed and encouraged by the Executive to organize State Governments, they at once placed in power leading rebels, unrepentant and unpardoned, excluding with contempt those who had manifested an attachment to the Union, and preferring in many instances those who had rendered themselves peculiarly obnoxious. In the face of the law requiring an oath that would necessarily exclude all such men from Federal offices, they have elected, with very few exceptions, as senators and representatives in Congress, the very men who have actively participated in the Rebellion, insultingly denouncing the law as unconstitutional."
The oath referred to in the foregoing extract from the committee's report is that popularly known as the "Ironclad oath," prescribed by the Act of July 2, 1862, to be taken by every person elected or appointed to any office of honor or profit under the Government of the United States, either in the civil, military, or naval departments of the public service, the President alone excepted. The officer, before entering upon his duties or receiving any emolument, was compelled to swear that he had "never voluntarily borne arms against the United States;" that he had "voluntarily given no aid, countenance, counsel, or encouragement to persons engaged in armed hostility to the National Government;" that he had "neither sought nor accepted nor attempted to exercise the functions of any office whatever under authority or pretended authority in hostility to the United States;" that he had "never yielded a voluntary support to any pretended Government within the United States, hostile or inimical thereto." Of course the men who had been waging war against the Government could not take this oath except by committing perjury and risking its pains and penalties. But nothing daunted by the existence of this obstacle at the threshold of public service, the most notorious rebels sought election to the Senate and House, boasting that they would prove the unconstitutionality of the Ironclad oath, and demand their seats.
Alexander H. Stephens "had the assurance," as the committee already quoted declared, "with that oath staring him in the face, to lay his credentials on the table of the Senate as a senator-elect from Georgia." When Congress adjourned, March 3, 1865, Mr. Stephens was acting as the Vice-President of the rebel Confederacy. Six weeks later the Confederacy was destroyed, and with a political agility unparalleled, with a degree of presumption unprecedented, Mr. Stephens secured an election to the Senate, and was in Washington at the ensuing session of Congress, asking admission to a seat as cooly as if every living man had forgotten that for four years he had been exerting his utmost effort to destroy the Constitution under which he now claimed the full rights of a citizen. In his astounding effrontery Mr. Stephens even went so far as to insist on interpreting to those loyal men, who had been conducting the Government of the United States through all its perils, the Constitution under which they had been acting, and to point out how they were depriving him of his rights by demanding an oath of loyalty and good faith as the condition on which he should be entitled to take part in legislating for the restored Union. The same committee, worthy at all times to be cited, declared further, that "Other rebels of scarcely less note and notoriety than Mr. Stephens were selected from other quarters. Professing no repentance, glorying apparently in the crime they had committed, avowing still, as the uncontradicted testimony of Mr. Stephens and many others proves, an adherence to the pernicious doctrine of secession, and declaring that they yielded only to necessity, they insist with unanimous voice upon their rights as States, and proclaim that they will submit to no conditions whatever as preliminary to their resumption of power under that Constitution which they still claim the right to repudiate."
Not only were the official acts of the Southern Conventions inspired by a spirit of apparently irreconcilable hatred of the Union, but the popular manifestations in the South were for more decided in the same direction. A sense of official propriety, no doubt, in some degree governed the conduct and modified the language of the members of the conventions. It was left to the press and the stump-orators of the South to give full expression to what they knew to be the ruling sentiment of the people. The report of the Congressional Committee, whose members had closely investigated all the facts, stated that "the Southern press, with few exceptions, abounds with weekly and daily abuse of the institutions and people of the loyal States; defends the men who led, and the principles which incited, the Rebellion; denounces and reviles Southern men who adhered to the Union; and strives constantly and unscrupulously, by every means in its power, to keep alive the fire and hate and discord between the sections; calling upon the President to violate his oath of office, overturn the Government by force of arms, and drive the representatives of the people from their seats in Congress. The National banner is openly insulted and the National airs scoffed at, not only by an ignorant populace, but at public meetings, and once, among other notorious instances, at a dinner given in honor of a notorious rebel, who had violated his oath and abandoned his flag. The same individual is elected to an important office in the leading city of his State, although an unpardoned rebel, and so offensive that the President refused to allow him to enter upon his official duties. In another State the leading general of the rebel armies in openly nominated for governor by the House of Delegates, and the nomination is hailed by the people with shouts of satisfaction and openly indorsed by the press."
These representations of the prevailing spirit in the South and of the conduct of Southern men were not the loose and exaggerated statements of Northern partisans put forth in influence political opinion in the loyal States. They were the deliberate and conscientious statements of an eminent committee of the two Houses of Congress, of which Senator Fessenden of Maine was chairman. The quotations already made are from the same official report—a report based upon exhaustive testimony and prepared with scrupulous care. In that report, which is to be taken as an absolutely truthful picture of the Southern States at the time, it is averred that "witnesses of the highest character testify that, without the protection of United-States troops, Union men, whether of Northern or Southern origin, would be obliged to abandon their homes. The feeling in many portions of the country toward the emancipated slaves, especially among the ignorant and uneducated, is one of vindictive and malicious hatred. The deep-seated prejudice against color is assiduously cultivated by the public journals and leads to acts of cruelty, oppression, and murder, which the local authorities are at no pains to prevent or punish."
It was further declared by Mr. Fessenden's committee "that the evidence of an intense hostility to the Federal Union, and an equally intense love for the late Confederacy, nurtured by the war, is decisive. While it appears that nearly all are willing to submit, at least for the time being, to the Federal authority, it is equally clear that the ruling motive is a desire to obtain the advantages which will be derived from a representation in Congress." It was also proved before the committee, on the testimony, or rather the admissions, of witnesses who had been prominent in the Rebellion, that "the generally prevailing opinion in the late Confederacy defends the legal right of secession and upholds the doctrine that the first allegiance of the people is due to the States and not to the United States." It was further admitted by the same class of witnesses that "the taxes levied by the United States will be paid only on compulsion and with great reluctance," and that "the people of the rebellious States would, if they could see a prospect of success, repudiate the National debt." It was stated by witnesses from the South, with evident pride, that "officers of the Union Army, on duty in the South, and Northern men who go there to engage in business, are generally detested and proscribed," and that "Southern men who adhered to the Union are bitterly hated and relentlessly persecuted."
Upon the conclusion of the work of the respective conventions, the election of State Legislatures and of senators and representatives in Congress followed as promptly as was practicable in the several States. The Legislatures were all in session before the close of the year 1865, and their proceedings startled the country. If any need existed for proof of the spirit that animated the conventions, or of the ends to which they had directed their work, it was furnished in full by the action of the Legislatures. Indeed, when the latter bodies assembled, they were inspired with a fresh accession of courage and daring, imparted by the example of the former and the apparent acquiescence of the North in their proceedings. The period between the adjournment of the conventions and the assembling of the Legislatures was so short that there was no time for the maturing of public opinion in the North, and still less for bringing it to bear in any way upon Southern action. It is, moreover, doubtful whether any representation, however strong, from the North, would have exerted the slightest influence in holding the South back from its mad course. Emboldened by the support of the National Administration, the Southern leaders believed that they could carry their designs through, and, instead of being restrained by the protest or the advice of Republicans, they chose with apparent gladness the course that would prove most offensive to them. It would indeed, according to their own boasts, add a peculiar gratification to their anticipated triumph if they could feel assured that it would bring chagrin or a sense of humiliation to the Republican masses of the loyal States.
At this critical period it was the ill fortune of the South to be misled by the Democratic press and the Democratic orators of the North, as it had been before on perilous occasions. The South had been induced by the same press and the same orators to believe, in the winter of 1860-61, that efforts at secession would not be resisted by arms. Many Northern Democrats had indeed given the assurance that if any attempt at coercion should be made by the Republican National Administration, they would themselves meet it with force, and that, if war should come, it would be in the free States and not in the slave States. The South, in 1865, had apparently forgotten these baseless assurances; they had forgotten that, in the hour of conflict, the Democrats who did not become loyal, at once became silent, and that the few—scattering exceptions to a general rule—who were demonstrative and loud in their sympathy for the rebels were compelled to flee or accept imprisonment in Fort Lafayette. They seemed again ready and eager to believe all the unsupported assertions which the Northern Democrats, in a spirit of effrontery and not without gasconade, ventured to put forth. It might be difficult to determine which displayed the greater folly—those who made false representations, or those who, warned by previous deception, appeared so ready to be influenced anew by deception equally gross.
The truth was that the Republicans of the North, constituting, as was shown by the elections of 1865, a majority in every State, were deeply concerned as to the fate and fortune of the colored population of the South. Only a minority of Republicans were ready to demand suffrage for those who had been recently emancipated, and who, from the ignorance peculiar to servitude, were presumably unfit to be intrusted with the elective franchise. The minority, however, was composed of very earnest men of the same type as those who originally created and combined the anti-slavery sentiment of the country, and who now espoused the right of the negro to equality before the law. Equality, they believed, could neither be conferred nor maintained unless the negro were invested with the badge of American manhood—the right to vote—a right which they were determined to guarantee as firmly to the colored man as it was already guaranteed to the white man.
The great mass of the Republicans stopped short of the demand for the conferment of suffrage on the negro. That privilege was indeed, still denied him in a majority of the loyal States, and it seemed illogical and unwarrantable to expect a more advanced philanthropy, a higher sense of justice, from the South than had been yet attained by the North. But without raising the question of suffrage, there were rights with which the negro must be endowed before he could essentially better his material condition or advance in knowledge. It was, first of all, required that he should have the full protection of the law of marriage, of which he had always been deprived, and that with the privilege he should be subjected to the honest observance of the obligations which marriage imposes—to the end that good morals should be inculcated, and that every child should have a responsible father. It was, in the second place, in the highest degree necessary that he should have the benefit of such laws as would assure to him the wages of his labor and confer upon him the right to acquire and hold real estate and other property, with the same security and protection enjoyed by the whites. In the third place, it was imperatively demanded that some provision be made for the rudimentary instruction of colored children, in order that they might learn the mechanical arts and have the privilege of working at such callings as were best adapted to them. The list of requirements might be enlarged, but the three which are given represent primary and indisputable necessities, without the concession and free establishment of which the negro, with nominal freedom, would be in a worse condition than if he had been left in slavery.
In view of these facts, the course of the new organized Legislatures was watched with deep and jealous interest. It was in their power to repair, in large degree, the blunders of policy—nay, the crimes against human rights—which the Reconstruction Conventions had abetted if not committed. The membership of the Legislatures in all the States was composed wholly of those who, either in the military or civil service, had aided the Rebellion. If in such an organization a spirit of moderation and justice should be shown, if consideration should be exhibited for the negro, even so far as to assure to him the inherent rights of human nature, a deep impression would be made on the conscience and the public opinion of the North. Such a course in the South might, indeed, open the way for the success of the simple and speedy process of reconstruction, upon which Mr. Seward had staked his reputation as a statesman, and to which Mr. Johnson had pledged the power and committed the fortunes of his Administration.
As soon as the Southern Legislatures assembled, it was made evident that their members disregarded, and even derided, the opinion of those who had conquered the Rebellion and held control of the Congress of the United States. If the Southern men had intended, as their one special and desirable aim, to inflame the public opinion of the North against them, they would have proceeded precisely as they did. They treated the negro, according to a vicious phrase which had at one time wide currency, "as possessing no rights which a white man was bound to respect." Assent to the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution by the Southern States was but a gross deception as long as they accompanied it with legislation which practically deprived the negro of every trace of liberty. That which was no offense in a white man was made a misdemeanor, a heinous crime, if committed by a negro. Both in the civil and criminal code his treatment was different from that to which the white man was subjected. He was compelled to work under a series of labor laws applicable only to his own race. The laws of vagrancy were so changed as, in many of their provisions, to apply only to him, and under their operation all freedom of movement and transit was denied. The liberty to sell his time at a fair market rate was destroyed by the interposition of apprentice laws. Avenues of usefulness and skill in which he might specially excel were closed against him lest he should compete with white men. In short his liberty in all directions was so curtailed that it was a bitter mockery to refer to him in the statutes as a "freedman." The truth was, that his liberty was merely of form and not of fact, and the slavery which was abolished by the organic law of a Nation was now to be revived by the enactments of a State.
Some of these enactments were peculiarly offensive, not to say atrocious. In Alabama, which might indeed serve as an example for the other rebellious States, "stubborn or refractory servants" and "servants who loiter away their time" were declared by law to be "vagrants," and might be brought before a justice of the peace and fined fifty dollars; and in default of payment they might be "hired out," on three days' notice by public outcry, for the period of "six months." No fair man could fail to see that the whole effect, and presumably the direct intent, of this law was to reduce the helpless negro to slavery for half the year—a punishment that could be repeated whenever desired, a punishment sure to be desired for that portion of each recurring year when his labor was specially valuable in connection with the cotton crop, while for the remainder of the time he might shift for himself. By this detestable process the "master" had the labor of the "servant" for a mere pittance; and even that pittance did not go to the servant, but was paid into the treasury of the county, and thus relived the white men from their proper share of taxation. There may have been more cruel laws enacted, but the statute-books of the world might be searched in vain for one of meaner injustice.
The foregoing process for restoring slavery in a modified form was applicable to men or women of any age. But for "minors" a more speedy and more sweeping methods was contrived by the law-makers of Alabama, who had just given their assent to the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution. They made it the "duty of all sheriffs, justices of the peace, and other civil officers of the several counties," to report the "names of all minors under the age of eighteen years, whose parents have not the means or who refuse to support said minors," and thereupon it was made the duty of the Court to "apprentice said minor to some suitable person on such terms as the Court may direct." Then follows a suggestive proviso directing that "if said minor be the child of a freedman" (as if any other class were really referred to!) "the former owner of said minor shall have the preference;" and "the judge of probate shall make a record of all the proceedings," for which he should be entitled to a fee of one dollar in each case, to be paid, as this atrocious law directed, by "the master or mistress." To tighten the grasp of ownership on the minor who was now styled an apprentice, it was enacted in almost the precise phrase of the old slave-code that "whoever shall entice said apprentice from his master of mistress, or furnish food or clothing to him or her, without said consent, shall be fined in a sum not exceeding five hundred dollars."
The ingenuity of the Alabama legislators in contriving schemes to re-enslave the negroes was not exhausted by the odious and comprehensive statutes already cited. They passed an Act to incorporate the city of Mobile, substituting a new charter for the old one. The city had suffered much from the suspension and decay of trade during the war, and it was in great need of labor to make repairs to streets, culverts, sewers, wharves, and all other public property. By the new charter, the mayor, aldermen, and common council were empowered "to cause all vagrants," . . . "all such as have no visible means of support," . . . "all who can show no reasonable cause of employment or business in the city," . . . "all who have no fixed residence or cannot give a good account of themselves," . . . "or are loitering in or about tippling-houses," "to give security for their good behavior for a reasonable time and to indemnify the city against any charge for their support, and in case of their inability or refusal to give such security, to cause them to be confined to labor for a limited time, not exceeding six calendar months, which said labor shall be designated by the said mayor, aldermen, and common council, for the benefit of said city."
It will be observed even by the least intelligent that the charge made in this city ordinance was, in substance, the poverty of the classes quoted—a poverty which was of course the inevitable result of slavery. To make the punishment for no crime effective, the city government was empowered "to appoint a person or persons to take those sentenced to labor from their place of confinement to the place appointed for their working, and to watch them while at labor and return them before sundown to their place of confinement; and, if they shall be found afterwards offending, such security may again be required, and for want thereof the like proceeding may again be had from time to time, as often as may be necessary." The plain meaning of all this was, that these helpless and ignorant men, having been robbed all their lives of the fruit of their labor by slavery, and being necessarily and in consequence poor, must be punished for it by being robbed again of all they had honestly earned. If they stubbornly continued in their poverty, the like proceeding (of depriving them of the fruits of their labor) "may again be had from time to time, as often as may be necessary." It would, of course, be found "necessary" just as long as the city of Mobile was in need of their labor without paying for it.
It has been abundantly substantiated, by impartial evidence, that when these grievous outrages were committed under the forms of law, by the joint authority of the Alabama Legislature and the city government of Mobile, the labor of thousands of willing men could be hired for the low wages of twenty-five cents per day, with an allowance of a peck of corn-meal and four pounds of bacon for each man per week. It does not change the character of the crime against these humble laborers, but it certainly enhances its degree that the law-makers of Alabama preferred an oppressive fraud to the honest payment of a consideration so small as to be almost nominal. A man must be in abject poverty when he is willing to work an entire week for a sum usually accorded in the Norther States for the labor of one day. But only a community blind to public justice and to public decency as well, could enact a law that in effect declares the poverty of the laborer to be a crime, in consideration of which he shall be deprived of the beggarly mite for which he is willing to give the sweat of his face.
Apparently fearing that the operations of the law already referred to would not secure a sufficient number of laborers for the work required in the city, the law-makers of Alabama authorized the municipal government of Mobile to "restrain and prohibit the nightly and other meetings or disorderly assemblies of all persons, and to punish for such offenses by affixing penalties not exceeding fifty dollars for any one offense; and in case of the inability of any such person to pay and satisfy said fine or penalty and the cost thereof, to sentence such person to labor for said city for such reasonable time, not exceeding six calendar months, for any one offense, as may be deemed equivalent to such penalty and costs, which labor shall be such as may be designated by the mayor, aldermen, and common council of the city."
Power was thus given to consider any evening meeting of colored persons a disorderly one, and to arrest all who were participating in it. Nothing was more natural than that the negroes, with their social and even gregarious habits, should, in their new estate of freedom, be disposed to assemble for the purpose of considering their own interests and their future prospects. It is eminently to the discredit of the State of Alabama and of the city of Mobile that so innocent a purpose should be thwarted, perverted, made criminal and punished.
The fact will not escape attention that in these enactments the words "master," "mistress," and "servant" are constantly used, and that under the operation of the laws a form of servitude was re-established, more heartless and more cruel than the slavery which had been abolished. Under the institution of slavery a certain attachment would spring up between the master and his salve, and with it came a certain protection to the latter against want and against suffering in his old age. With all its wrongfulness and its many cruelties, there were ameliorations in the slave system which softened its asperities and enabled vast number of people possessing conscience and character to assume the relation of master. But in the treatment of the colored man, now proposed, there was absolute heartlessness and rank injustice. It was proposed to punish him for no crime, to declare the laborer not worthy of his hire, to leave him friendless and forlorn, without sympathy, without rights under the law, socially an outcast and industrially a serf—a serf who had no connection with the land he tilled, and who had none of the protection which even the Autocracy of Russia extended to the lowliest creature that acknowledged the sovereignty of the Czar.
These laws were framed with malignant cunning so as not to be limited in specific form of words to the negro race, but they were exclusively confined to that race in their execution. It is barely possible that a white vagrant of exceptional depravity might, now and then, be arrested; but the negro was arrested by wholesale on a charge of vagrancy which rested on no foundation except an arbitrary law specially enacted to fit his case. Loitering around tippling-shops, one of the offenses enumerated, was in far larger proportions the habit of white men, but they were left untouched and the negro alone was arrested and punished. In the entire code this deceptive form, of apparently including all persons, was a signally dishonest feature. The makers of the law evidently intended that it should apply to the negro alone, for it was administered on that basis with rigorous severity. The general phrasing was to deceive people outside, and, perhaps, to lull the consciences of some objectors at home, but it made no difference whatever in the execution of the statutes. White men, who had no more visible means of support than the negro, were left undisturbed, while the negro, whose visible means of support were in his strong arms and his willingness to work, was prevented from using the resources conferred upon him by nature, and reduced not merely to the condition of a slave, but subjected to the demoralization of being adjudged a criminal.
In Florida the laws resembled those of Alabama, but were perhaps more severe in their penalties. The "vagrant" there might be hired out for full twelve months, and the money arising from his labor, in case the man had no wife and children, was directed to be applied for "the benefit of the orphans and poor of the county," although the negro had been declared a vagrant because he had no visible means of support, and was therefore quite as much in need of the avails of his labor as those to whom the law diverted them. Among the curious enactments of that State was one to establish and organize a criminal court for each county, empowered to exercise jurisdiction in the trial of all offenses where the punishment did not affect the life of the offender. It is obvious that the law was originated mainly for the punishment of negroes; and to expedite its work it was enacted that "in the proceedings of said court, no presentment, indictment, or written pleading shall be required, but it shall be sufficient to put the party accused upon his or her trial, that the offense and facts are plainly set forth with reasonable certainty in the warrant of arrest." It was further provided that when fines were imposed and the party was unable to pay them, "the county commissioner may hire out, at public outcry, the said party to any person who will take him or her for the shortest time, and pay the fine imposed and the cost of prosecution." The fines thus paid went in the county treasury for the general expenses of the county. The law was thus cunningly contrived to hurry the negro into an odious form of slavery, and to make the earnings which came from his hard labor pay the public expenses, which were legitimately chargeable upon the property of the county.
Accompanying the Act establishing this court was a law prescribing additional penalties for the commission of offenses against the State; and this, like the former, was framed especially for the negro. Its first section provided that where punishment of an offense had hitherto been limited to fine or imprisonment, there should be superadded, as an alternative, the punishment of standing in the pillory for one hour, or whipping, not exceeding thirty-nine lashes, on the bare back. The latter punishment was reserved expressly for the negro. It was provided further that it "shall not be lawful for any negro, mulatto, or person of color to own, use, or keep and bowie-knife, dirk, sword, fire-arms, or ammunition of any kind, unless he first obtain a license to do so from the judge of probate for the county in which he is a resident." The judge could issue the license to him only upon recommendation of two respectable white men. Any negro attempting to keep arms of any kind was to be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, compelled to "forfeit the arms for the use of the informer, stand in the pillory" (and be pelted by the mob) "for one hour, and then whipped with thirty-nine lashes on the bare back." The same penalty was prescribed for any person of color "who shall intrude himself into any religious or other public assembly of white persons, or into any railroad-car or other vehicle set apart for the accommodation of white persons," and with a mock show of impartiality it was provided that a white man intruding himself into an assembly of negroes, or into a negro-car, might be subjected to a like punishment. This restriction upon the negro was far more severe than that imposed in the days of slavery, when, in many of the Southern States, the gallery of the church was permitted to be freely occupied by them. A peculiarly atrocious discrimination against the negro was included in the sixth section of the law from which these quotations are made. It was provided therein that "if any person or persons shall assault a white female with intent to commit rape, or be accessory thereto, he or they, upon conviction, shall suffer death;" but there was no prohibition and no penalty prescribed for the same crime against a negro woman. She was left unprotected by law against the brutal lust and the violence of white men.
In the laws of South Carolina the oppression and injustice towards the negro were conspicuously marked. The restriction as to fire-arms, which was general to all the States, was especially severe. A negro found with any kind of weapon in his possession was punished by "a fine equal to twice the value of the weapon so unlawfully kept, and, if that be not immediately paid, by corporal punishment." Perhaps the most radically unjust of all the statutes was reserved for this State. The Legislature enacted that "no person of color shall pursue the practice, art, trade, or business of an artisan, mechanic, or shopkeeper, or any other trade or employment besides that of husbandry, or that of a servant under contract for labor, until he shall have obtained a license from the judge of the District Court, which license shall be good for one year only." If the license was granted to the negro to be a shopkeeper or peddler, he was compelled to pay a hundred dollars a year for it; and if he wished to pursue the rudest mechanical calling, he was compelled to pay a license-fee of ten dollars. No such fees were exacted of white men and no such fees were exacted of the free black man during the era of slavery. Every avenue for improvement was closed against him; and in a State which boasted somewhat indelicately of its chivalric dignity, the negro was mercilessly excluded from all chances to better his condition individually, or to improve the character of his race.
Mississippi followed in the general line of penal enactments prescribed in South Carolina, though her code was possibly somewhat less severe in the deprivations to which the negro was subjected. It was, however, bad enough to stir the indignation of every lover of justice. The Legislature had enacted a law that "if the laborer shall quit the service of the employer before the expiration of his term of service without just cause, he shall forfeit his wages for the year up to the time of quitting." Practically the negro was himself never permitted to judge whether the cause which drove him to seek employment elsewhere was just, the white man being the sole arbiter in the premises. It was provided that "every civil officer shall, and every person may, arrest and carry back to his or her legal employer any freedman, free negro or mulatto, who shall have quit the service of his or her employer before the expiration of his term of service without good cause, and said officer shall be entitled to receive for arresting and carrying back every deserting employee aforesaid the sum of five dollars, and ten cents per mile from the place of arrest to the place of delivery, and these sums shall be held by the employer as a set-off for so much against the wages of said deserting employee; provided that said arrested party, after being so returned home, may appeal to a justice of the peace, or a member of the Board of Police, who shall summarily try whether said appellant is legally employed by the alleged employer."
It required little familiarity with Southern administration of justice between a white man and a negro to know that such appeal was always worse then fruitless, and that its only effect, if attempted, would be to secure even harsher treatment than if the appeal had not been made. The provisions for enticing a negro from his employer, included in this Act, were in the same spirit and almost in the same language as the provisions of the slave-code applicable to the negro before the era of emancipation. The person "giving or selling to any deserting freedman, free negro or mulatto, any food, raiment, or other things, shall be guilty of a misdemeanor," and might be punished by a fine of two hundred dollars and costs, or he might be put in prison, and be also sued by the employer for damages. For attempting to entice any freedman or free negro beyond the limits of the State, the person offending might be fined five hundred dollars; and if not immediately paid, the court could sentence the delinquent to imprisonment in the county jail for six months. The entire code of Mississippi for freedmen was in the spirit of the laws quoted. Justice was defied, and injustice incorporated as the very spirit of the laws. It was altogether a shameless proclamation of indecent wrong on the part of the Legislature of Mississippi.
Louisiana probably attained the worst eminence in this vicious legislation. At the very moment when the Thirty-ninth Congress was assembling to consider the condition of the Southern States and the whole subject of their reconstruction, it was found that a bill was pending in the Legislature of Louisiana providing that "every adult freed man or woman shall furnish themselves with a comfortable home and visible means of support within twenty days after the passage of this act," and that "any freed man or woman failing to obtain a home and support as thus provided shall be immediately arrested by any sheriff or constable in any parish, or by the police officer in any city or town in said parish where said freedman may be, and by them delivered to the Recorder of the parish, and by him hired out, by public advertisement, to some citizen, being the highest bidder, for the remainder of the year." And in case the laborer should leave his employer's service without his consent, "he shall be arrested and assigned to labor on some public works without compensation until his employer reclaims him." The laborers were not to be allowed to keep any live-stock, and all time spent from home without leave was to be charged against them at the rate of two dollars per day, and worked at that rate. Many more provisions of the same general character were contained within the bill, the whole character and scope of which were forcibly set before the Senate by Mr. Wilson of Massachusetts. It was not only a proof of cruelty enacted into law, but was such a defiance to the spirit of the Emancipation amendment that it subjected the Legislature which approved the amendment and enacted these laws, to a charge of inconsistency so grave as to make the former act appear in the light of both a legal and moral fraud. It was declaring the negro to be free by one statute, and immediately proceeding to re-enslave him by another.
By a previous law Louisiana had provided that all agricultural laborers should be compelled to "make contracts for labor during the first ten days of January for the entire year." With a demonstrative show of justice it was provided that "wages due shall be a lien on the crop, one-half to be paid at times agreed by the parties, the other half to be retained until the completion of the contract; but in case of sickness of the laborer, wages for the time shall be deducted, and where the sickness is supposed to be feigned for the purpose of idleness, double the amount shall be deducted; and should the refusal to work extend beyond three days, the negro shall be forced to labor on roads, levees, and public works without pay." The master was permitted to make deduction from the laborer's wages for "injuries done to animals or agricultural implements committed to his care, or for bad or negligent work," he, of course, being the judge. "For every act of disobedience a fine of one dollar shall be imposed upon the laborer;" and among the cases deemed to be disobedience were "impudence, swearing, or using indecent language in the presence of the employer, his family, or his agent, or quarreling or fighting among one another." It has been truthfully said of this provision that the master or his agent might assail the ear with profaneness aimed at the negro man, and outrage every sense of decency in foul language addressed to the negro woman; but if one of the helpless creatures, goaded to resistance and crazed under tyranny, should answer back with impudence, or should relieve his mind with an oath, or retort indecency upon indecency, he did so at the cost to himself of one dollar for every outburst. The agent referred to in the statute was the well-known overseer of the cotton region, who was always coarse and often brutal, sure to be profane, and scarcely knowing the border-line between ribaldry and decency. The care with which the law-makers of Louisiana provided that his delicate ears and sensitive nerves should not be offended with an oath or with an indelicate word from a negro, will be appreciated by all who have heard the crack of the whip on a Southern plantation.
The wrongs inflicted under the name of law, thus far recited, were still further aggravated in a majority of the rebellious States by the exaction of taxes from the colored man to an amount altogether disproportionate to their property. Indeed, of property they had none. Just emerging from a condition of slavery in which their labor had been constantly exacted without fee or reward of any kind, it was impossible that they could be the owners of any thing except their own bodies. Notwithstanding this fact, the negroes, en masse, were held to be subjects of taxation in the State Governments about to be re-organized. In Georgia, for example, a State tax of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars was levied in the first year of peace. The property of the State, even after all the ruin of the war, exceeded two hundred and fifty million dollars. This tax, therefore, amounted to less than one-seventh of one per cent upon the aggregate valuation of the State,—equal to the imposition of only a dollar and a half upon each thousand dollars of property. The Legislature of the State decreed, however, that a large proportion of this small levy should be raised by a poll-tax of a dollar per head upon every man in the State between the ages of twenty-one and sixty years. There were in Georgia at the time from eighty-five thousand to ninety thousand colored men subject to the tax: perhaps, indeed, the number reached one hundred thousand. It was thus ordained that the negroes, who had no property at all, should pay one-third as much as the white men, who had two hundred and fifty millions of property in possession. This odious and unjust tax was stringently exacted from the negro. To make sure that not one should escape, the tax was held as a lien upon his labor, and the employer was under distraint to pay it. In Alabama they devised for the same purpose two dollars on every person between the ages of eighteen and fifty, causing a still larger proportion of the total tax to fall on the negro than the Georgia law-makers deemed expedient.
Texas followed with a capitation tax of a dollar per head, while Florida levied upon every inhabitant between the ages of twenty-one and fifty-five years a capitation tax of three dollars, and upon failure or refusal to pay the same the tax-collector was "authorized and required to seize the body of the delinquent, and hire him out, after five days' public notice before the door of the Court House, to any person who will pay the said tax and the costs incident to the proceedings growing out of said arrest, for his services for the shortest period of time." As the costs as well as the capitation tax were to be worked out by the negro, it is presumable that, in the spirit of this tax-law, they were enlarged to the utmost limit that decency, according to the standard set up by this law, would permit. It is fair to presume that, in any event, the costs would not be less than the tax, and might, indeed, be double or treble that amount. As a negro could not, at that time, be hired out for more than seven dollars and a half per month, the plain inference is that for the support of the State of Florida the negro might be compelled to give one month's labor yearly. Even by the capitation tax alone, without the incident of the costs, every negro man was compelled to give the gains and profits of nearly two weeks' labor.
A poll-tax, though not necessarily limited in this manner, has usually accompanied the right of suffrage in the different States of the Union, but in the rebellious States it conferred no franchise. It might be supposed that ordinary generosity would have devoted it to the education of the ignorant class from which it was forcibly wrung, but no provision of the kind was even suggested. Indeed, in those States there was scarcely an attempt made to provide for the education of the freedmen, and the suggestions made in that direction carried with them another display of studied wrong. As an example of rank injustice the course of the Legislature of Florida may be profitably cited. That body passed an Act concerning schools for freedmen, in which the governor was authorized to appoint a superintendent of common schools for freedmen, and in each county the county commissioners were authorized to appoint assistant superintendents. These officers were directed to "establish schools for freedmen when the number of colored children in any county will warrant the same, provided" (and the proviso is one of great significance) "that the sums hereinafter authorized shall be sufficient to meet the expenses thereof." The funds provided for this seemingly philanthropic design were to be derived exclusively from a tax upon the colored man. The law directed that all colored men between the ages of twenty-one and fifty-five years should pay annually a dollar each, to be collected at the same time and in the same manner as the three-dollar poll-tax, which should be paid into the treasury of the State for the use of the freedmen, and should constitute a fund to be denominated "the common-school fund for the education of freedmen." It was further provided in this law, that "a tuition-fee shall be collected from each pupil, under such regulations as the superintendents shall prescribe, and paid into the treasury as a portion of the common-school fund for freedmen."
The salary of the superintendents of the schools for freedmen was fixed at a thousand dollars, and of the county superintendents at two hundred dollars. There were, at that time, about twelve thousand negro men subject to the capitation tax of three dollars, already referred to, and under that law they paid thirty-six thousand dollars annually into the State Treasury of Florida; but the school law forbade that the salary of superintendents and assistant superintendents should be paid from the fund derived from the poll-tax. They provided that it should be chargeable solely to the fund raised for common schools. As there were thirty-seven counties in Florida at that time, it is a fair presumption that twenty-five of them had assistant superintendents, whose aggregate salaries would amount to five thousand dollars. With the superintendent's salary, which was a thousand dollars, a draft of six thousand dollars for the salaries of white men was at once made upon the twelve thousand dollars which were to be collected from freedmen. Every teacher who was to teach in these schools was required to pay five dollars for his certificate, which also went into the school-fund; and the end of the whole matter was, that a bare pittance was left for the thirty thousand negro children in Florida of the school age. The whole scheme was a ghastly wrong, one which, if attempted upon that class of any population in the North which is able to pay only a poll-tax, would consign the party attempting it to defeat and disgrace, and, if its enforcement were attempted, would lead to riot and bloodshed.
These laws, with all their wrong (even a stronger word might be rightfully employed), were to become, and were, indeed, already an integral part of the reconstruction scheme which President Johnson had devised and proclaimed. Whoever assented to the President's plan of reconstruction assented to these laws, and, beyond that, assented to the full right of the rebellious States to continue legislation of this odious type. It was at once seen that if the party which had insisted upon the emancipation of the slave as a final condition of peace, should now abandon him to his fate, and turn him over to the anger and hate of the class from whose ownership he had been freed, it would countenance and commit an act of far greater wrong than was designed by the most malignant persecutor of the race in any one of the Southern States. When the Congress of the United States, acting independently of the Executive power of the Nation, decreed emancipation by amending the Constitution, it solemnly pledged itself, with all its power, to give protection to the emancipated at whatever cost and at whatever sacrifice. No man could read the laws which have been here briefly reviewed without seeing and realizing that, if the negro were to be deprived of the protecting power of the Nation that had set him free, he had better at once be remanded to slavery, and to that form of protection which cupidity, if not humanity, would always inspire.
The South had no excuse for its course, and the leaders of its public opinion at that time will always, and justly, be held to a strict accountability. Even the paltry pretext, afterwards so often advanced, that they were irritated and maddened by the interposition of carpet-bag power, does not avail in the least degree for the outrages in the era under consideration. When Mr. Johnson issued his proclamation of reconstruction, the hated carpet-bagger was an unknown element in the Southern states. What was done during the year immediately following the surrender of the rebel armies was done at Southern suggestion, done by Southern men, done under the belief that the President's policy would protect them in it, done with a fixed and merciless determination that the gracious act of emancipation should not bring amelioration to the colored race, and that the pseudo-philanthropy, as they regarded the anti-slavery feeling in the North, should be brought into contempt before the world. They deliberately resolved to prove to the public opinion of mankind that the negro was fit only to be a chattel, and that in his misery and degradation, sure to follow the iniquitous enactments for the new form of his subjection, it would be proved that he had lost and not gained by the conferment of freedom among a population where it was impossible for him to enjoy it. They resolved also to prove that slavery was the normal and natural state of the negro; that the Northern people, in taking any other ground, had been deceived by a sentiment and had been following a chimera; that the Southern people alone understood the question, and that interference with them by war or by law should end in establishing their justification before the public opinion of the world. The Southern men believed and boasted that they would subject to general reproach and expose to open shame that whole class of intermeddlers and fanatics (as they termed opponents of slavery) who had destroyed so many lives and wasted so much treasure in attempting the impossible and, even if possible, the undesirable.
There can be no doubt that the objectionable and cruel legislation of the Southern States—examples of which might be indefinitely cited in addition to those already given—exerted a strong influence upon Mr. Seward's mind. It is well known that, to those who were on intimate terms with him, he expressed a sorrowful surprise that the South should respond with so ill a grace to the liberal and magnanimous tenders of sympathy and friendship from the National Administration. He could not comprehend why confidence did not beget confidence, why generosity should not call forth generosity in return. There are good reasons for believing that Mr. Seward desired some modification of the President's policy of Reconstruction after he comprehended the spirit which had been exhibited by the Southern Conventions, and the still more objectionable spirit shown by the Southern Legislatures. His philanthropic nature, the record of his public life, his great achievements in the anti-slavery field, all forbid the conclusion that he could knowingly and willingly consent to the maltreatment and the permanent degradation of the freedmen. If he had no higher motives, the selfish one of preserving his own splendid fame must have inspired him.
Mr. Seward had reached the age of sixty-five years, and he surely could not consent to undo the entire work of his mature manhood. Consistency, it is true, is not the highest trait of statesmanship. Crises often arise in the conduct of National affairs when cherished opinions must be sacrificed and new departures taken. But this necessity can never apply to that class of political questions closely and inseparably allied with moral obligation. Mr. Seward had himself taught the nation that conflict on questions involving the rights of human nature is irrepressible. The slavery against which he had warred so long and so faithfully had been abolished in vain if another form of servitude, even more degrading in some of its aspects, was to take its place. To desert the colored man, and leave him to his fate, undefended, and defenseless against the wrongs already perpetrated and the greater wrongs foreshadowed, would do dishonor to the entire spirit of Mr. Seward's statesmanship, and would certainly be unworthy of his fame.
He strove no doubt to persuade himself, as Mr. Marcy had done in the Cabinet of President Pierce, that even if he did not approve the policy pursued, it was better for him to remain and prevent many evils sure to follow if he should resign. Mr. Seward felt moreover a certain embarrassment in deserting the Administration after he had induced the President to adopt the very policy which was now resulting adversely. But for his energetic interposition the President would have been executing an entirely different policy—one of severe and perhaps sanguinary character. After persuading Mr. Johnson to abandon his proposed line of action and to adopt that which Mr. Seward had himself originated, it might well occur to the distinguished Secretary of State that good faith to the President required him to remain at his post and aid in working out the best result possible. It would to Mr. Seward's apprehension be an act of unpardonable selfishness if in such a crisis to the Republic he should seek to increase his own popularity in the Northern States by separating from Mr. Johnson who had generously trusted him and cordially accepted his leadership. By resigning he could only add to the excitement which he especially desired to allay, whereas he might by continuing in his place of power be able to hold a part of the ground which would all be finally lost if he should join the crusade against the Administration. Under these motives Mr. Seward retained his portfolio. He staid on and on, continually hoping to do some act of patriotic service, and steadily losing that great host of friends who for twenty years had looked to him with unfaltering faith for counsel and direction.
Many who had been steadfastly devoted to Mr. Seward for the whole generation in which he had been prominent in public affairs, never could become reconciled to his course at this period. Some, indeed, refused to concede to him the benefit of worthy motives. He had, as they believed and declared, been incurably wounded in his pride, and disappointed in his ambition, when Mr. Lincoln, then a comparatively unknown man, was preferred to him by the Republican party as a candidate for the Presidency in 1860. He had, as they believed, bided his time for revenge. During the war, the pressure of patriotic duty, as his new but reluctant enemies alleged, held him steadily to his old faith; but now, when he could do it without positive danger to the country, he was bent on administering discipline to the party and its leaders. They likened him to Mr. Van Buren, revengefully defeating General Cass in 1848; to Mr. Webster, who on his death-bed gave his sympathy to the party which had always reviled him; to Mr. Fillmore, who deserted his anti-slavery professions in the hour of most pressing responsibility. Comments even more severe were made by many who had been deeply attached to Mr. Seward, and had deplored his defeat at Chicago. At such a period of excitement, it was not possible that a man of Mr. Seward's exalted position could in any degree change his party relations without great exasperation on the part of old friends, —an exasperation sure to lead to extravagance of expression and to personal injustice.
Mr. Seward's course at this period must not be judged harshly by a standard established from a retrospective view of the circumstances surrounding him. It is more just to consider the situation as it appeared to his own observation when his eyes were turned to the future. He no doubt looked buoyantly forward, according to his temperament, trusting always to the healing influences of time and to that re-action in the headlong course of Southern men which he felt sure would be brought about by the sting of personal reflection and the power of public opinion. A silver lining to the darkest cloud was always visible to his eye of faith, and he now brought to the contemplation of the adverse elements in the political field a full measure of that confidence which had always sustained him when adverse elements in the field of war caused many strong hearts to faint and grow weary.
The course of events developed occasions when Mr. Seward's influence proved valuable to the country, but it did not serve to recall his popularity. He was thwarted and defeated at all points by the Southern leaders whom he had induced the President to forgive and re-instate. These men had originally established their relations with Mr. Johnson by reason of Mr. Seward's magnanimous interposition. But once established they had been able, from motives adverted to in the previous chapter, to fasten their hold upon Mr. Johnson even to the exclusion of Mr. Seward. When Mr. Seward was beaten for the Presidential nomination in a convention composed of anti-slavery men who had learned their creed from him, Senator Toombs, in a tone full of exultation but not remarkable for delicacy, declared that "Actæon had been devoured by his own dogs." The fable would be equally applicable in describing the manner in which the Southern men, who owed their forgiveness and their immunity to Mr. Seward, turned upon him with hatred and with imprecation. They were graciously willing to accept benefits and favors at his hands so long as he would dispense them, but they never forgave him for the work of that grand period of his life, between his election to the Senate and the outbreak of the civil war, when he wrought most nobly for humanity and established a fame which no error of later life could blot from the minds of a grateful people.
Mr. Seward could not have been surprised at the treatment he thus received. He had for nearly half a century been an intelligent observer of the political field, and he could not recall a single Northern man who had risked his popularity at home in defense of what were termed the rights of the South who had not in the supreme crisis of his public life been deserted by the South. Mr. Webster, General Cass, William L. Marcy, Mr. Douglas, and President Pierce were among the most conspicuous of those who had been thus sacrificed. The last sixty days of Mr. Buchanan's Presidency furnished the most noted of all the victims of Southern ingratitude. Men of lower rank but similar experience were to be found in the years preceding the war in nearly every Norther State—men who had ventured to run counter to the principles and prejudices of their own constituency to serve those who always abandoned a political leader when they feared he might have lost the power to be useful to them. The pro-slavery men of the South, in following this course, presented a striking contrast to the anti-slavery men of the North who, under all circumstances and against all temptation, were faithful to the leaders who proved faithful to their cause.
CHAPTER VI.
During the progress of events in the South, briefly outlined in the preceding chapter, the Thirty-ninth Congress came together—on the first Monday of December, 1865. The Senate and House each contained a large majority of Republicans. In the House Mr. Colfax was re-elected Speaker, receiving 139 votes to 36 cast for James Brooks of New York. The address of the Speaker on taking the chair is usually confined to thanks for his election and courteous assurance of his impartiality and good intentions. But Mr. Colfax, instinctively quick, as he always was, to discern the current of popular thought, incorporated in the ceremonial address some very decisive political declarations. Referring to the fact that the Thirty-eighth Congress has closed nine months before, with "the storm-cloud of war still lowering over us," and rejoicing that "to-day, from shore to shore in our land there is peace," he proceeded to indicate the line of policy which the people expected. "The duties of Congress," said he, "are as obvious as the sun's pathway in the heavens. Its first and highest obligation is to guarantee to every State a republican form of government, to establish the rebellious States anew on such a basis of enduring justice as will guarantee all safeguards to the people and protection to all men in their inalienable rights." . . . "In this great work," he said, "the world should witness the most inflexible fidelity, the most earnest devotion to the principles of liberty and humanity, the truest patriotism and the wisest statesmanship."
The remarks of Mr. Colfax had evident reference to the perverse action of the Southern rebels, and were so entirely in harmony with the feeling of the House that at different stages of the brief address the Republican side of the chamber broke forth into loud applause. As soon as the election of Speaker and of the subordinate officers of the House was completed, Mr. Thaddeus Stevens, recognized as the leader of the majority, offered a resolution for the appointment of a "joint committee of fifteen members—nine from the House and six from the Senate—who shall inquire into the condition of the States which formed the so-called Confederate States of America, and report whether they, or any of them, are entitled to be represented in either House of Congress, with leave to report at any time by bill or otherwise." His resolution demanded that "until such report shall have been made and finally acted upon by Congress, no member shall be received into either House from any of the so-called Confederate States," and further directed that "all papers relating to the representation of the said States shall be referred to the said committee without debate." Mr. Eldridge of Wisconsin objected to the introduction of the resolution, and was met by Mr. Stevens with a motion to suspend the rules, which was carried by 129 ayes to 35 noes. Mr. John L. Dawson of Pennsylvania inquired whether it would not be in order to postpone the resolution until after the receipt of the President's message; but the House was in no disposition to testify respect for Mr. Johnson, and the resolution was adopted by as large a vote as that by which it had been received.