Abraham Lincoln

by William Eleroy Curtis

Mr. Colfax, who accompanied the delegation, says that "one of these ministers felt it his duty to make a more searching appeal to the President's conscience. Just as they were retiring, he turned and said to Mr. Lincoln,—

"'What you have said to us, Mr. President, compels me to say, in reply, that it is a message to you from our Divine Master, through me, commanding you, sir, to open the doors of bondage that the slave may go free!'

"Mr. Lincoln replied instantly, 'That may be, sir, for I have studied this question by night and by day for weeks and for months; but if it is, as you say, a message from your Divine Master, is it not odd that the only channel he could send it by was that roundabout route by that awfully wicked city of Chicago?'

"In discussing the question, he used to liken the case to that of the boy who, when asked how many legs his calf would have if he called his tail a leg, replied, 'Five.' To which the prompt response was made that calling the tail a leg would not make it a leg.

"He sought to measure so accurately, so precisely, the public sentiment that, whenever he advanced, the loyal hosts of the nation would keep step with him. In regard to the policy of arming the slaves against the Rebellion, never, until the tide of patriotic volunteering had ebbed and our soldiers saw their ranks rapidly melting away, could our colored troops have been added to their brigades without perilous discontent, if not open revolt. Against all appeals, all demands, against even threats of some members of his party, Lincoln stood like a rock on this question until he felt that the opportune moment had arrived."

Not only was he denounced by the abolitionists, but by the foremost leaders of the Republican party, such as Benjamin F. Wade and Horace Greeley, and received appeals from loyal people of the South, to whom he replied, with his usual patience, "What is done and omitted about the slaves is done and omitted on the same military necessity. I shall not do more than I can, and shall do all that I can, to save the government."

In his view, military necessity was the only justification for the violation of the Constitution, which protected the slaves. In the second place, his delay was due to a doubt whether public sentiment in the North was prepared for a measure so radical and far-reaching; by his hope that the people of the border States would soon be willing to accept the act as a friendly as well as a necessary solution of a dilemma; and, finally, because of his profound respect for the Constitution which he had sworn to maintain. He would not free the negro because the Constitution stood in his way, and only for the sake of the Union was he willing to override that sacred instrument. This purpose was tersely expressed when, under great provocation, he allowed himself to violate his own rule and reply to Horace Greeley, who had attacked him in an open letter of unjust censure, accusing him of neglecting his duty.

"I would save the Union," he said, frankly. "I would save it in the shortest way under the Constitution. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could at the same time save slavery, I do not agree with them. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could, at the same time, destroy slavery, I do not agree with them. My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union; and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union. I shall do less whenever I believe what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I believe doing more will help the cause. I shall try to correct errors when shown to be errors, and I shall adopt new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views."

Contemplating the events in the history of emancipation in a perspective of forty years, it is difficult to say whether we admire more the skill with which President Lincoln led public sentiment along with him or the reticence and dignity with which he restrained his own desire to yield to the influence of the good people of the North and protect himself from the clamor of his critics. His letter to Mr. Greeley was not an argument in a controversy, nor an apology for or defence of his policy; but he intended it to be a warning to prepare the slave-holders of the border States and the South for an event which only he and his Cabinet knew was about to happen, and, at the same time, to divert the attention of the Union people of the North until a favorable opportunity arrived for proclaiming freedom.

Mr. Greeley was not satisfied with the assurances contained in the letter, and continued to attack the President in a persistent manner. He was invited to come to Washington and "fight it out in private," but sent his managing editor instead, who spent an interesting evening and had an animated argument with the President; but the latter could not trust him with the momentous secret, and was compelled to wait until a Union victory offered a favorable opportunity to take the step he contemplated. As he told the Chicago pastors, he had not decided against a proclamation of liberty for the slaves, but held the matter under advisement. "And I can assure you," he added, "that the subject is on my mind by day and by night; more than any other. Whatever shall appear to be God's will I will do."