But the President's earnest appeal to these loyal Representatives in Congress from the Border-States, was, as we have seen, in vain. It might as well have been made to actual Rebels, for all the good it did. For, a few days afterward, they sent to him a reply signed by more than two-thirds of those present, hitherto given at length in these pages, in which-after loftily sneering at the proposition as "an interference by this Government with a question which peculiarly and exclusively belonged to" their "respective States, on which they had not sought advice or solicited aid," throwing doubts upon the Constitutional power of the General Government to give the financial aid, and undertaking by statistics to prove that it would absolutely bankrupt the Government to give such aid,—they insultingly declared, in substance, that they could not "trust anything to the contingencies of future legislation," and that Congress must "provide sufficient funds" and place those funds in the President's hands for the purpose, before the Border-States and their people would condescend even to "take this proposition into careful consideration, for such decision as in their judgment is demanded by their interest, their honor, and their duty to the whole Country."
Very different in tone, to be sure, was the minority reply, which, after stating that "the leaders of the Southern Rebellion have offered to abolish Slavery among them as a condition to Foreign Intervention in favor of their Independence as a Nation," concluded with the terse and loyal deduction: "If they can give up Slavery to destroy the Union, we can surely ask our people to consider the question of Emancipation to save the Union."
But those who signed this latter reply were few, among the many. Practically, the Border-State men were a unit against Mr. Lincoln's proposition, and against its fair consideration by their people. He asked for meat, and they gave him a stone.
Only a few days before this interview, President Lincoln—alarmed by the report of McClellan, that the magnificent Army of the Potomac under his command, which, only three months before, had boasted 161,000 men, had dwindled down to not more than "50,000 men left with their colors"—had been to the front, at Harrison's Landing, on the James river, and, although he had not found things quite so disheartening as he had been led to believe, yet they were bad enough, for only 86,000 men were found by him on duty, while 75,000 were unaccounted for—of which number 34,4172 were afterward reported as "absent by authority."
This condition of affairs, in connection with the fact that McClellan was always calling for more troops, undoubtedly had its influence in bringing Mr. Lincoln's mind to the conviction, hitherto mentioned, of the fast-approaching Military necessity for Freeing and Arming the Slaves.
It was to ward this off, if possible, that he had met and appealed to the Border-State Representatives. They had answered him with sneers and insults; and nothing was left him but the extreme course of almost immediate Emancipation.
Long and anxiously he had thought over the matter, but the time for action was at hand.
And now, it cannot be better told, than in President Lincoln's own words, as given to the portrait-painter Carpenter, and recorded in the latter's, "Six months in the White House," what followed:
"It had got to be," said he, "midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the game!
"I now determined upon the adoption of the Emancipation Policy; and, without consultation with, or the knowledge of, the Cabinet, I prepared the original draft of the Proclamation, and, after much anxious thought, called a Cabinet meeting upon the subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of the month of August, 1862." (The exact date he did not remember.)