But when the time came for a nomination the Hon. Leonard Swett, who was then a prominent lawyer and politician, also took the field to secure the Republican nomination. He visited Springfield, and persuaded some of his friends there that he ought to be the nominee, and they determined to try their hands toward securing my withdrawal, if possible by persuasion. They sent for me to come to the library, where they were proposing to hold a meeting. I went over, and found that their project was to get me to withdraw in favor of Swett, and I declined. But I said I would "draw straws," or assent to any other fair means that could be found by which it was to be settled who was to be the nominee of the party. Then, after some further parleying, I finally left the conference.
That evening after dusk I met Swett on the street. We sat down upon the curbstone, as it was growing a little dark, and talked the matter over. Swett said to me that he was an older man than I was; that he had been knocked about a good deal, and, though he had done much work for the party, he had never got anything; and if the present opportunity for reward for services were allowed to pass him by another opportunity was not likely, at his age, to come to him. Finally, I said: "Mr. Swett, if you had come to me and made this suggestion at first, I would have been very glad indeed to make the concession to you, and I am ready to do so now. Here is my hand on it, and I will help you at the convention." He became the party candidate by general consent, as I remember it. At all events he was the candidate, and unfortunately he was beaten at the polls. That was in 1862. So that while the Congressional district was made by me, and for myself, I gave way to Mr. Swett, and the opposition carried it. Two years afterwards I was the candidate and was elected.
The majority in the counties composing the district was ordinarily Republican. As a result of Mr. Swett's defeat, he left the district, though a very prominent lawyer, and went to Chicago, never to return to the Congressional district in which he had lived so many years, really quitting politics entirely.
I suppose I ought to state the fact that, having made the district for myself and then given it up to Mr. Swett, I determined to be a candidate at the next election; whereupon I found that Mr. James C. Conkling, a friend of mine, and a special friend of Mr. Lincoln also, some of whose family are still living, was disposed to try for the same office. I made up my mind that in order to keep myself in trim for the future it was well to keep in touch with the voters; and I determined to run for the State Senate, though the four counties composing the Senatorial district were all Democratic and all in the Congressional district in which Swett was the defeated candidate, yet I desired to run for the Senate, in order to keep Conkling from getting such a hold on the district as to strengthen him for the contest two years afterwards.
So I made the run, and was beaten, of course, every county in the district being Democratic; and the rest of my plans also worked out as I had calculated they would.
Soon after I was elected to Congress, and soon after Mr. Lincoln was elected the second time, I came on to Washington. Having been intimate with Mr. Nicolay and Mr. Hay who were his secretaries, I was in the habit of frequenting their rooms without ceremony. One evening, just after dusk, I went to the White House and quietly, as usual, entered Mr. Nicolay's room. It so happened that Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Seward, with some other cabinet officers, were in the room, holding a consultation. I had opened the door before I observed who were there. President Lincoln saw me quite as soon as I saw him, and I was very much embarrassed. He sang out cheerily, "Come in!" and turning to his Secretary of State, he added, "Seward, you remember my old friend Stuart? Here is the boy that beat him." I stayed for only a moment, and then went out. That is the nearest I ever came to participating in a cabinet meeting.
That incident in my life, as I now look back, punctuates, in my individual way of thinking at this moment, the substantial close of what was mortal in that great man's earthly career. The close of the four years of civil war was clearly in sight. It was in many respects a record-making and a record-breaking war. The navies of the world, rendered helpless by the incidental effects of its thundering guns, had to be rebuilt. For the first time in the world's history the railroad and the electric telegraph played a very considerable part. The grip of insatiate despotism on Democratic institutions was effectually loosened far and wide. For the first time in war the lessons taught in the art of warfare by Alexander and Caesar were utterly ignored, and the "Maxims of Napoleon" were relegated to the shelf, there to gather dust. In short, in inaugurated a new era in the history not only of our own country but of the entire world.
CHAPTER VII LINCOLN 1860 to 1864
As days and years pass by and an enlightened humanity studies and comprehends the real greatness and simplicity of Abraham Lincoln, he comes nearer and becomes dearer to all. No weak compliment of words can add to his renown, nor will any petty criticism detract from the glory which has crowned his memory. The passing of time has only added brightness to his character; the antagonisms of bitter war have left no shade upon his name; and the hatred which, for a brief time, spent itself in harmless words has turned to reverence and love.
Had he lived until February 12, 1911, he would have been one hundred and two years old. Less than forty-five years ago, in the very prime of life, he was the Chief Magistrate of the Nation, guiding and controlling it in its great struggle for national existence. Such a vast accumulation of history has been compressed into those years, and such a wonderful panorama of events has passed before us in that comparatively brief time, that we are apt to think of Lincoln as of the long ago, as almost a contemporary of Washington and of the Revolutionary fathers. The immensity of the history which has been crowded into those forty-five years has distorted our mental vision, as ordinary objects are sometimes distorted by refraction. Yet when we reflect, the distortion disappears. But the wonder still remains. The years during which the deeds of Lincoln have been a memory to us do not carry us back to the early days of our own country. They do not carry us back even to the time of Jackson, Webster, Clay, or Calhoun; yet the sacred halo of patriotic veneration invests as completely the name of Lincoln as of Washington.