Senator Douglas gave to the newspapers as soon as he left the White House the information that "Mr. Douglas called on the President this evening and had an interesting conversation on the present condition of the country. The substance of the conversation was that. . . Mr. Douglas was prepared to sustain the President in the exercise of all his constitutional functions to preserve the Union, and maintain the government, and defend the federal capital." From that meeting, the last that ever took place between the two friends, Douglas went to Illinois to rally the people of that State, and especially the Democrats, to Lincoln's support. To the legislature on April 25, 1861, he made his last great public address, for he died a few weeks later. "Whenever our government is assailed," he declared, "the shortest way to peace is the most stupendous preparation for war." He closed by saying: "It is with a sad heart, with a grief that I have never before experienced, that I have to contemplate this fearful struggle; but I believe, in my conscience, that it is a duty we owe to ourselves, our children, and our God, to protect this government and that flag from every assailant, be he who he may." It was the last message of a great man. Its effect was instantaneous. Not only in Illinois, but throughout the North, the men of the nation gave evidence to their President that they would stand by him and defend the Union until the flag should float in peace over every foot of soil. CHAPTER XV A PEOPLE'S SORROW THE attack on Fort Sumter was a call to arms, South as well as North. The chief difference was that it found the South ready, while it took the North by surprise. Southern orators charged that in sending bread to Sumter, Lincoln had "invaded sacred soil" and was trying to "coerce" a sovereign State. On April 17, Virginia, by the vote of a bare majority, joined the Confederacy; and in May Tennessee, also by a close vote, and Arkansas and North Carolina followed. The Confederate States of America, eleven in number, with Jefferson Davis of Mississippi as President, and Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia as VicePresident, had organized what they dreamed would become a new republic, with the right to buy and sell and hold human beings as slaves under national protection as its chief principle of government, and the fear of losing that right through Lincoln's election its only reason for being. The Confederate leaders had hoped to unite all the slave States, but they were doomed to disappointment. Maryland and Kentucky and Missouri remained loyal, although among their citizens many showed their sympathy with the South by enlisting and marching with "the boys in gray." To keep these border States loyal was Lincoln's constant purpose, while many were the efforts to break them away from his firm yet sympathetic hold. The different States, in proportion to their popula tion, began at once to organize their soldiers into regiments and put them under the command of the President, to be trained for war. To the city of Washington, defenseless on the Virginia border, the first troops hastened, reaching the capital four days after the President's call went forth. The city was practically in a state of siege. Barricades of all kinds had been put up about the public buildings. Famine was threatening, and the people were in terror lest a few of the Southern regiments, already in camp and awaiting marching orders, should move against the city. Waiting through the weary night for the Massachusetts and New York regiments to reach Washington, Lincoln walked the corridors of the White House alone, repeating to himself the despairing cry, "Why don't they come? Why don't they come?" The conduct of the war presented many problems to the President and his military advisers. The Confederate coast-line from the Potomac to the Mexican border, many thousands of miles long, was blockaded, and had to be watched to prevent the South from getting provisions or arms or relief from abroad. The borderline of Virginia and Tennessee and Arkansas must be guarded lest injury be done to the Northern cities, particularly Washington and Baltimore and Philadelphia. The Mississippi River, with the Ohio opening the way into the great Middle West, must be patrolled by war-boats and guarded by forts and military camps. With the same vigilance must they watch the Potomac on the east and the Cumberland and the Tennessee rivers on the west. At all hazards Washington, the national capital, must be kept in safety. Three general fields of military activity seemed to open: the capture of Richmond, the new Confederate capital; the establishment, through the army, of the federal authority among the loyal Union people of eastern Tennessee by way of the Tennessee River; and the capture of the Confederate fortifications along the Mississippi, so as to open the "Father of Waters" to free passage by Union vessels. To carry out this plan of warfare required the building-up and training of a larger army than the world had yet known. It required four years in camp and on the march, on the battlefield, in attack, and on retreat, until the South, whose troops were fewer and whose wealth was less, should at last be worn out and cry, "Enough.' The story of the four years of waiting and fighting cannot be told here. Lincoln, as commander-in-chief of army and navy and President of the United States, had it all to oversee and direct. The sorrows it brought were his sorrows, and its hourly cares and anxieties were his. One member of the little party that had traveled with Lincoln from Springfield to Washington was young Elmer Ellsworth, who, when the war broke out, was made colonel of a regiment of zouaves. While passing through Alexandria, Virginia, with his regiment, Colonel Ellsworth saw a Confederate flag floating from the roof of a hotel. He dashed up the stairs and, tearing the flag from its staff, started back to the street. On the stairway he was shot and killed. The reckless courage he had shown and the cruelty of his untimely death made the men of the North still more eager to fight for the flag for whose honor Colonel Ellsworth had died. When the President was aroused in the early dawn and told the news, he stood by the window in silence looking across the Potomac toward Alexandria, while the tears streamed down his face. Turning toward the bearers of the heart-breaking tidings he said slowly : "So this is the beginning murder! Ah, my friends, what shall the end be?" On the next day, in the midst of his overwhelming labors, he found time to write with his own hand this letter to the father and mother whose boy had been killed : May 25, 1861. MY DEAR SIR AND MADAM, In the untimely loss of your noble son, our affliction here is scarcely less than your own. So much of promised usefulness to one's country, and of bright hopes for one's self and friends, have rarely been so suddenly dashed as in his fall. In size, in years, and in youthful appearance a boy only, his power to command men was surpassingly great. This power, combined with a fine intellect, an indomitable energy, and a taste altogether military, constituted in him, as seemed to me, the best natural talent in that department I ever knew. And yet he was singularly modest and deferential in social intercourse. My acquaintance with him began less than two years ago; yet through the latter half of the intervening period it was as intimate as the disparity of our ages and my engrossing engagements would permit. To me he appeared to have no indulgences or pastimes; and I never heard him utter a profane or an intemperate word. What was conclusive of his good heart, he never forgot his parents. The honors he labored for so laudably, and for which in the sad end he so gallantly gave his life, he meant for them no less than for himself. In the hope that it may be no intrusion upon the sacredness of your sorrow, I have ventured to address you this tribute to the memory of my young friend and your brave and early fallen child. May God give you that consolation which is beyond all earthly power. Sincerely your friend in a common affliction, |