The Life of Abraham Lincoln

by Henry Ketcham

THE DARKEST HOUR OF THE WAR.

There were so many dark hours in that war, and those hours were so dark, that it is difficult to specify one as the darkest hour. Perhaps a dozen observers would mention a dozen different times. But Lincoln himself spoke of the complication known as the Trent affair as the darkest hour. From his standpoint it was surely so. It was so because he felt the ground of public confidence slipping out from under him as at no other time. The majority of the North were with him in sentiment for the most part. A goodly number were with him all the time,—except this. This time, Charles Sumner, the Chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, was in agreement with him, but beyond that, everybody was against him, North and South, and all Europe as well. Upon him fell the task of turning the very turbulent current of public sentiment into the channel of duty and wisdom.

The facts of the affair were simple. Two men, Mason and Slidell, both ex-senators of the United States, had started, with their secretaries and families, to England and France as emissaries of the Confederate government. These countries had already recognized the Confederates as belligerents, and the mission of these men was to secure the recognition of the Confederate government as a nation. They succeeded in running the blockade at Charleston and put in at Havana. There they were received with much ostentation. They took passage on the British mail steamer Trent to St. Thomas, intending to take the packet thence to England.

Captain Wilkes, commanding a war vessel of the United States, was in the neighborhood and learned of these proceedings and plans. He stopped the British vessel on the high seas and by force took the two men and their secretaries. They were confined in Fort Warren, Boston Harbor.

This capture set the entire North ablaze with enthusiasm. Seward was in favor of it. Stanton, who a few weeks later was appointed Secretary of War, applauded the act. Welles, Secretary of the Navy, wrote a congratulatory letter upon the "great public service." The people of Boston tendered a banquet to the hero of the hour. When congress assembled about a month later, it gave him a vote of thanks. This wave of public enthusiasm swept the country from ocean to ocean. The southern sympathies of England and France had been so pronounced that this whole country seemed to unite in hilarious triumph over this capture, and regarded it as a slap in the face to England's pride. The fact that the complications threatened war with that nation only added fuel to the flames.

The excitement ran highest among the soldiers. Camp life had become monotonous, no decisive victories had raised their courage and enthusiasm. They were tired. They were exasperated with England's policy. They wanted to fight England.

The feeling upon the other side of the question ran equally high in the South, in England, and in France. As soon as the matter could receive official attention, the British minister at Washington was instructed to demand the instant release of the four men with a suitable apology. He was to wait seven days for an answer, and if the demand was not met by that time, he was to break off diplomatic relations with the United States. This of course meant war.

Sumner seems to have been the only other one who said, "We shall have to give them up." Lincoln, when he heard of the capture, declared that they would prove to be white elephants on our hands. "We shall have to give them up," he too said. But the difficulty was to lead the excited nation to see the need of this as he saw it. He declared that "we fought Great Britain for doing just what Captain Wilkes has done. If Great Britain protests against this act and demands their release, we must adhere to our principles of 1812. We must give up these prisoners. Besides, one war at a time." He again said that it was "the bitterest pill he ever swallowed. But England's triumph will not last long. After this war is over we shall call her to account for the damage she has done us in our hour of trouble."

The policy of the government with regard to this matter was not settled in the cabinet meeting until the day after Christmas. Public enthusiasm by that time had had six weeks in which to cool down. In that time the sober second judgment had illuminated many minds, and the general public was ready to see and hear reason. The outline of the reply of the United States was directed by Lincoln, but he instructed Seward to choose his own method of arguing the case. The reply was set forth in a very able and convincing paper. It reaffirmed our adhesion to the doctrine of 1812, said that Captain Wilkes had not done in an orderly way that which he did, promised that the prisoners would be cheerfully set at liberty, but declined to make any apology.

At this late date we are able to look somewhat behind the scenes, and we now know that the Queen and the Prince consort were very deeply concerned over the possibility of a war with us. They had only the kindest feelings for us, and just then they felt especially grateful for the many courtesies which had been shown to the Prince of Wales upon his recent visit to this country. They were glad to get through with the incident peaceably and pleasantly.