On this very day, President Buchanan, in Washington City, was apologizing for permitting the American flag to be carried at the head of a procession that was marching to celebrate the birthday of George Washington!
It was at Philadelphia that matters became more exciting. At that place they were informed of a plot to assassinate the President as he passed through Baltimore. This information came to them from a variety of sources entirely independent, and the various stories so nearly agreed in substance that they could not be disregarded. Most important of these informants was Allan Pinkerton of Chicago, one of the most famous detectives in the world. He had been personally with his assistants in Baltimore and knew the details of the plot. But Lincoln was neither suspicious nor timid, and was therefore disinclined to pay heed to the warnings of Pinkerton.
At about this time the son of William H. Seward met Lincoln with confidential communications from his father. This gave other evidences of this plot, gathered by some detectives from New York City. These two sets of detectives had worked on the case; each party entirely ignorant of the other. Both got specific evidence of the plot.
It was remembered, too, that since leaving Springfield ten days before, they had had at least two escapes. The track had been tampered with in a manifest attempt to wreck the train. A hand grenade had been found in one of the cars. It is not likely that this deadly machine was taken on the train merely for fun.
The members of the party were deeply concerned about the Baltimore revelations. But it was hard to get Lincoln to take them seriously. With difficulty was he persuaded to follow Pinkerton's plan and enter Washington secretly. He consented to do this really out of consideration for the judgment of others, not that he shared their apprehension. On one thing, however, Lincoln was firm. He had made certain appointments for speaking en route which he would not abandon. His promise had been given and would be kept. One was the flag-raising at Philadelphia, narrated above, and the other was to address the legislature at Harrisburg. "Both these appointments," said he, "I will keep if it costs me my life." These words suggest that he may have realized more of the danger than he was willing to show.
There are also intimations of the same thing which will be noticed by the careful reader of the speeches at Philadelphia and Harrisburg. In declining to give a hint of the details of his proposed policy, he said: "It were useless for me to speak of details of plans now; I shall speak officially next Monday week, if ever. If I should not speak then, it were useless for me to do so now."
Again: "If this country cannot be saved without giving up that principle,—I was about to say that I would rather be assassinated on this spot than surrender it."
And finally: "I may have said something indiscreet. But I have said nothing but what I am willing to live by, and, if it be the pleasure of Almighty God, die by."
These veiled references would pass unnoticed by the crowd, but they would be perfectly intelligible to those who knew of the warnings that had just been received. Lincoln was not in the habit of using such phrases, and the fact that he used them at this particular time can hardly be explained as a mere coincidence. He took in the situation, and—except for keeping the engagements already made—he submitted meekly to Pinkerton's plans.
An incident occurred at Harrisburg which made a great stir in the little party. This was nothing less than the loss of the manuscript of the inaugural address. This precious document the President himself had carried in a satchel. This satchel he had given to his son Robert to hold. When Robert was asked for it, it was missing. He "thought he had given it to a waiter—or somebody." This was one of the rare occasions on which Lincoln lost control of his temper, and for about one minute he addressed the careless young man with great plainness of speech.