Abraham Lincoln

by William Eleroy Curtis

"If General Cass went in advance of me picking whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charges on the wild onions. If he saw any live, fighting Indians, it was more than I did, but I had a good many bloody struggles with the mosquitoes; and although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can truly say I was often very hungry. If ever I should conclude to doff whatever our Democratic friends may suppose there is of black-cockade Federalism about me, and thereupon they shall take me up as their candidate for the Presidency, I protest that they shall not make fun of me, as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a military hero."

When compelled to supervise the enlisting and equipment of a great army and plan campaigns that were to determine the destiny and the happiness and prosperity of the people, he was entirely without preparation or technical knowledge of the science of war, and could only rely upon his common sense and apply to military affairs the experience he had gained in politics. His talent developed rapidly, however, until he became recognized as the ablest strategist of the war, not excepting Grant or Sherman. His correspondence with his generals, his memoranda concerning the movements of troops, his instructions to the Secretary of War, the plans he suggested, and the comments and criticisms he made upon those of others indicate the possession of a military genius which in actual service would have given him a high reputation. In times of crisis his generals found him calm and resourceful; in great emergencies he was prompt, cool, and clear-sighted; and under the shock of defeat he was brave, strong, and hopeful.

Soon after his inauguration he began to realize the magnitude of the struggle and the responsibilities which rested upon him. He was convinced that the government was in the right, but determined that there should be no mistake on this point; therefore he gave the South every liberty and indulgence that could possibly be granted. He determined that the "overt act" should be committed by the South, that there should be no excuse to accuse the government of "invasion" or an attempt at "subjugation," and for that reason he delayed the attempt to reinforce and provision Fort Sumter. When the public understood the moral issues involved he gave the order, because he knew that he would be supported by a united North. In his inaugural address he said, "In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors." And that solemn pledge he endeavored to fulfil even at the risk of Northern criticism and the loss of the military posts at Charleston and other points in the South.

It was a disheartening and almost impossible situation for the new administration. President Lincoln and General Scott were left almost entirely dependent upon strangers and men of no experience who had been appointed for political reasons rather than for capacity or knowledge. Nearly all the trained officers of the army resigned as fast as their native States seceded; officers of Northern birth and sympathies had been sent to distant posts so that they could not interfere with the treasonable designs of Secretary Floyd during the Buchanan administration. Confusion, corruption, and complications were unavoidable, and caused the President unutterable anxiety and distress. Ignorance and zeal often provoked more trouble than could be corrected, and jealousy, rivalry, and partisanship made matters worse.

The political problems alone would have been as great a load as mortal man might have been expected to carry, but his perplexities were increased, his time occupied, and his patience sorely tested by such an undignified and unpatriotic clamor for offices as has never been exceeded in the history of our government. The Democratic party had been in power for many years. Every position in the gift of President Buchanan had been filled with a Democrat, many of them Southern sympathizers, and now hordes of hungry Republicans besieged the White House demanding appointments. The situation was described by the President in a single ejaculation. A Senator who noticed an expression of anxiety and dejection upon his face, inquired,—

"Has anything gone wrong, Mr. President? Have you heard bad news from Fort Sumter?"

"No," answered the President, solemnly. "It's the post-office at Jonesville, Missouri."

The area of the country was vast; the seat of war stretched from the Atlantic to the Missouri River, with a strip of States undecided in their purpose which must be carefully handled to prevent them from joining the Confederacy. With inexperienced and incompetent commanders, a divided Cabinet, public clamor dinning in his ears, and his mind harassed by other cares and perplexities, it was difficult to develop a military policy and plan a campaign for the suppression of the rebellion. Even if the situation had been divested of political significance, it would have taxed the genius of a Napoleon. The coast line to be protected was more than three thousand six hundred miles long, the frontier line was nearly eight thousand miles, and the field of operation covered an area larger than the whole of Europe. Furthermore, it was a political war, and everything must be planned with a view to political consequences. It was not a struggle between rival powers, nor for conquest, but for the preservation of the Union, and from the beginning President Lincoln appreciated that the common interests and the general welfare required that the integrity of the country be preserved with as little loss and as little punishment as possible to either side. Whatever damage was done must be repaired at the end by a reunited country; whatever was destroyed was a common loss. The war was a family affair, in which the sufferings and sorrows and material losses must be equally shared. With all these considerations in his mind, he undertook to guide the government in such a way as to prevent the dissolution of the Union and at the same time accomplish the overthrow of the slave power and the removal of that curse from the American people.

General Scott, like General Sherman, had accurately measured the requirements of the situation. Their experience and military instincts taught them that it was to be a long and a tedious struggle, and they urged deliberation and preparation as absolutely necessary to success. But, when General Sherman's opinion was made public, he was called a lunatic, and General Scott's practical plan of military operations was defeated by public ridicule. General Sherman demanded two hundred thousand men before attempting a campaign in the Mississippi Valley. General Scott called for only one hundred thousand men, but said they would be required for three years, and advised that they be distributed among ten or fifteen healthy camps for four months until they could be organized, drilled, and acclimated; then, after the navy had blockaded the harbors of the Southern coast, he proposed to move his army down both banks of the Mississippi River, establishing strong posts at frequent intervals to protect that stream until New Orleans was captured and occupied; he then proposed to move his army gradually eastward from the Mississippi and southward from the Potomac, slowly closing in upon the Confederacy until its military power was paralyzed. Notwithstanding the sorrows and anxieties of the North, the people howled with derision at this thorough, practical plan of the old veteran. The comic papers took it up and published cartoons representing a monster serpent with General Scott's head, coiled around the cotton States, and they called it "Scott's Anaconda." In the same breath they demanded a battle. "On to Richmond," they cried, and President Lincoln yielded to the clamor. The battle of Bull Run was fought, with its disastrous consequences. The lesson was valuable, as it taught the President that public opinion was not a safe guide to follow in military operations.

It must be remembered that in the midst of the most appalling situation in American history Lincoln stood practically alone because of a divided Cabinet and the age and infirmities of General Scott, then seventy-five years old, quite feeble in body and irritable of temper. The President had great respect for him and confidence in his patriotism and military judgment. He had supported Scott for President in 1852, had been in correspondence with him before the inauguration, and had encouraged him in his futile efforts to check the treasonable transactions of Secretary Floyd and other conspirators; but he soon discovered that the venerable warrior was in no condition to perform labor or assume responsibility. Yet he was reluctant to do anything to wound his pride or reflect upon his present ability. This increased the embarrassment and difficulties of the situation. General Scott recognized and appreciated Lincoln's consideration, but refused to resign or retire until finally driven from his post by McClellan.