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“I Plucked a Thistle and Planted a Flower”
“The last interview but one I had with him was about ten days prior to his last inauguration. Congress was drawing to a close; it had been an important session; much attention had to be given to the important bills he was signing; a great war was upon him and the country; visitors were coming and going to the President with their varying complaints and grievances from morning till night with almost as much regularity as the ebb and flow of the tide; and he was worn down in health and spirits. On this occasion I was sent for, to come and see him. Instructions were given that when I came I should be admitted. When I entered his office it was quite full, and many more-among them not a few Senators and members of Congress-still waiting. As soon as I was fairly inside, the President remarked that he desired to see me as soon as he was through giving audiences, and that if I had nothing to do I could take the papers and amuse myself in that or any other way I saw fit till he was ready. In the room, when I entered, I observed sitting near the fireplace, dressed in humble attire, two ladies modestly waiting their turn. One after another of the visitors came and went, each bent on his own particular errand, some satisfied and others evidently displeased at the result of their mission.
The hour had arrived to close the door against all further callers. No one was left in the room now except the President, the two ladies, and me. With a rather peevish and fretful air he turned to them and said, ‘Well, ladies, what can I do for you?’ They both commenced to speak at once. From what they said he soon learned that one was the wife and the other the mother of two men imprisoned for resisting the draft in western Pennsylvania. ‘Stop,’ said he, ‘don’t say any more. Give me your petition.’ The old lady responded, ‘Mr. Lincoln, we’ve got no petition; we couldn’t write one and had no money to pay for writing one, and I thought best to come and see you.’ ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘I understand your cases.’ He rang his bell and ordered one of the messengers to tell General Dana to bring him the names of all the men in prison for resisting the draft in western Pennsylvania. The General soon came with the list. He enquired if there was any difference in the charges or degrees of guilt. The General replied that he knew of none. ‘Well, then,’ said he, ‘these fellows have suffered long enough, and I have thought so for some time, and now that my mind is on the subject I believe I will turn out the whole flock. So, draw up the order, General, and I will sign it.’ It was done and the General left the room. Turning to the women he said, ‘Now, ladies, you can go.’ The younger of the two ran forward and was in the act of kneeling in thankfulness. ‘Get up,’ he said; ‘don’t kneel to me, but thank God and go.’ The old lady now came forward with tears in her eyes to express her gratitude. ‘Good-bye, Mr. Lincoln,’ said she; ‘I shall probably never see you again till we meet in heaven.’ These were her exact words. She had the President’s hand in hers, and he was deeply moved. He instantly took her right hand in both of his and, following her to the door, said, ‘I am afraid with all my troubles I shall never get to the resting-place you speak of; but if I do I am sure I shall find you. That you wish me to get there is, I believe, the best wish you could make for me. Good-bye.’
“We were now alone. I said to him, ‘Lincoln, with my knowledge of your nervous sensibility, it is a wonder that such scenes as this don’t kill you.’ He thought for a moment and then answered in a languid voice, ‘Yes, you are to a certain degree right. I ought not to undergo what I so often do. I am very unwell now; my feet and hands of late seem to be always cold, and I ought perhaps to be in bed; but things of the sort you have just seen don’t hurt me, for, to tell you the truth, that scene is the only thing to-day that has made me forget my condition or given me any pleasure. I have, in that order, made two people happy and alleviated the distress of many a poor soul whom I never expect to see. That old lady,’ he continued, ‘was no counterfeit. The mother spoke out in all the features of her face. It is more than one can often say that in doing right one has made two people happy in one day. Speed, die when I may, I want it said of me by those who know me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower when I thought a flower would grow.’ What a fitting sentiment! What a glorious recollection!”
William Henry Herndon,Jesse William Weik,“Abraham Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life” p.526;Douglas L. Wilson and Rodney O. Davis, editor, Herndon’s Informants, p. 157-158 (Letter of Joshua F. Speed to William H. Herndon, January 12, 1866).Herndon-313-20 ,Carnegie-185-178-23
“He will be Back after that in a Few Minutes.”
While sitting in the position described little Willie, his son, came in and begged his father for twenty-five cents. ‘My son,’ said the father, ‘what do you want with twenty-five cents?’ ‘I want it to buy candy with,’ cried the boy. ‘I cannot give you twenty-five cents, my son, but will give you five cents,’ at the same time putting his thumb and finger into his vest pocket and taking therefrom five cents in silver, which he placed upon the desk before the boy. But this did not reach Willie’s expectations; he scorned the pile, and turning away clambered down-stairs and through the spacious halls of the Capitol, leaving behind him his five cents and a distinct reverberation of sound. Mr. Lincoln turned to me and said, ‘He will be back after that in a few minutes.‘ ‘Why do you think so?’ said I. ‘Because, as soon as he finds I will give him no more he will come and get it.’ After the matter had been nearly forgotten and conversation had turned in an entirely different channel, Willie came cautiously in behind my chair and that of his father, picked up the specie, and went away without saying a word.”
-J. S. Bliss, letter, Jan. 29, 1867, MS
Quoted in Herndon’s Lincoln: A True Story of a Great Life Written by William H. Herndon and Jesse W. Weik, ed. Herndon-283-05
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“This Blade at the Point Travels Rapidly”
I used to grow restless at Lincoln’s slow movements and speeches in court. “Speak with more vim,” I would frequently say, “and arouse the jury-talk faster and keep them awake.” In answer to such a suggestion he one day made use of this illustration: “Give me your little pen-knife, with its short blade, and hand me that old jack-knife, lying on the table.” Opening the blade of the pen-knife he said: “You see, this blade at the point travels rapidly, but only through a small portion of space till it stops; while the long blade of the jack-knife moves no faster but through a much greater space than the small one. Just so with the long, labored movements of my mind. I may not emit ideas as rapidly as others, because I am compelled by nature to speak slowly, but when I do throw off a thought it seems to me, though it comes with some effort, it has force enough to cut its own way and travel a greater distance.” This was said to me when we were alone in our office simply for illustration. It was not said boastingly.
By William H. Herndon,Jesse W. Weik “Herndon’s Lincoln: A True Story of a Great Life” , P339 Herndon-332-203-11
“The Debtor Assumed to be Crazy”
May 26, Tuesday.
Much of the tune at the Cabinet-meeting was consumed in endeavoring to make it appear that one Cuniston, tried and condemned as a spy, was not exactly a spy, and that he might be let off. I did not participate in the discussion. It appeared to me, from the statement on all hands and from the finding of the court, that he was clearly and beyond question a spy, and I should have said so, had my opinion been asked, but I did not care to volunteer, unsolicited and without a thorough knowledge of all the facts, to argue away the life of a fellow being.
There was a sharp controversy between Chase and Blair on the subject of the Fugitive Slave Law, as attempted to be executed on one Hall here in the district. Both were earnest, Blair for executing the law, Chase for permitting the man to enter the service of the United States instead of being remanded into slavery. The President said this was one of those questions that always embarrassed him. It reminded him of a man in Illinois who was in debt and terribly annoyed by a pressing creditor, until finally the debtor assumed to be crazy whenever the creditor broached the subject. “I,” said the President, “have on more than one occasion, in this room, when beset by extremists on this question, been compelled to appear to be very mad. I think,” he continued, “none of you will ever dispose of this subject without getting mad.”
Quoted in entry for May 26, 1863, Welles diary, Vol. I (1960 edn.), p. 313.
“When it was Ripe We did not Harvest It.”
July 14, Tuesday.
We have accounts of mobs, riots, and disturbances in New York and other places in consequence of the Conscription Act. Our information is very meagre; two or three mails are due; the telegraph is interrupted. There have been powerful rains which have caused great damage to the railroads and interrupted all land communication between this and Baltimore.
There are, I think, indubitable evidences of concert in these riotous movements, beyond the accidental and impulsive outbreak of a mob, or mobs. Lee’s march into Pennsylvania, the appearance of several Rebel steamers off the coast, the mission of A. H. Stephens to Washington, seem to be parts of one movement, have one origin, are all concerted schemes between the Rebel leaders and Northern sympathizing friends, the whole put in operation when the Government is enforcing the conscription. This conjunction is not all accidental, but parts of a great plan. In the midst of all this and as a climax comes word that Lee’s army has succeeded in recrossing the Potomac. If there had been an understanding between the mob conspirators, the Rebels, and our own officers, the combination of incidents could not have been more advantageous to the Rebels.
The Cabinet-meeting was not full to-day. Two or three of us were there, when Stanton came in with some haste and asked to see the President alone. The two were absent about three minutes in the library. When they returned, the President’s countenance indicated trouble and distress; Stanton was disturbed, disconcerted. Usher asked Stanton if he had bad news. He said, “No.” Something was said of the report that Lee had crossed the river. Stanton said abruptly and curtly he knew nothing of Lee’s crossing. “I do,” said the President emphatically, with a look of painful rebuke to Stanton. “If he has not got all of his men across, he soon will.”
The President said he did not believe we could take up anything in Cabinet to-day. Probably none of us were in a right frame of mind for deliberation; he was not. He wanted to see General Halleck at once. Stanton left abruptly. I retired slowly. The President hurried and overtook me. We walked together across the lawn to the Departments and stopped and conversed a few moments at the gate. He said, with a voice and countenance which I shall never forget, that he had dreaded yet expected this; that there has seemed to him for a full week a deter- mination that Lee, though we had him in our hands, should escape with his force and plunder. “And that, my God, is the last of this Army of the Potomac! There is bad faith somewhere. Meade has been pressed and urged, but only one of his generals was for an immediate attack, was ready to pounce on Lee; the rest held back. What does it mean, Mr. Welles? Great God! what does it mean?” I asked what orders had gone from him, while our troops had been quiet with a defeated and broken army in front, almost destitute of ammunition, and an impassable river to prevent their escape. He could not say that anything positive had been done, but both Stanton and Halleck professed to agree with him and he thought Stanton did. Halleck was all the tune wanting to hear from Meade. “Why,” said I, “he is within four hours of Meade. Is it not strange that he has not been up there to advise and encourage him?” I stated I had observed the inertness, if not incapacity, of the General-in-Chief, and had hoped that he, who had better and more correct views, would issue peremptory orders. The President immediately softened his tone and said: “Halleck knows better than I what to do. He is a military man, has had a military education. I brought him here to give me military advice. His views and mine are widely different. It is better that I, who am not a military man, should defer to him, rather than he to me.” I told the President I did not profess to be a military man, but there were some things on which I could form perhaps as correct an opinion as General Halleck, and I believed that he, the President, could more correctly, certainly more energetically, direct military movements than Halleck, who, it appeared to me, could originate nothing, and was, as now, all the time waiting to hear from Meade, or whoever was in command.
I can see that the shadows which have crossed my mind have clouded the President’s also. On only one or two occasions have I ever seen the President so troubled, so dejected and discouraged.
Two hours later I went to the War Department. The President lay upon a sofa in Stanton’s room, completely absorbed, overwhelmed with the news. He was, however, though subdued and sad, calm and resolute. Stanton had asked me to come over and read Dana’s 1 report of the materials found at Vicksburg. The amount is very great, and the force was large. Thirty-one thousand two hundred prisoners have been paroled. Had Meade attacked and captured the army above us, as I verily believe he might have done, the Rebellion would have been ended. He was disposed to attack, I am told, but yielded to his generals, who were opposed. If the war were over, those generals would drop into subordinate positions.
Quoted in Entry for July 14, 1863,Welles diary, p. 371.
“He is the Rock on the Beach of our National Ocean”
The son of a man who had befriended Lincoln in the days of his poverty, desired a certain army appointment. Congressmen Julian of Indiana and Lovejoy of Illinois went to Lincoln, who indorsed the application and sent them with it to Stanton.
“No,” said the Secretary.
“Let us give his qualifications,” suggested the Congressmen.
“I do not wish to hear them,” was the reply. “The position is of high importance. I have in mind a man of suitable experience and capacity to fill it.”
“But the President wishes this man to be appointed,” persisted the callers.
“I do not care what the President wants; the country wants the very best it can get. I am serving the country,” was the retort, “regardless of individuals.”
The disconcerted Congressmen returned to Lincoln and recited their experience. The President, without the slightest perturbation, said:
“Gentlemen, it is my duty to submit. I cannot add to Mr. Stanton’s troubles. His position is one of the most difficult in the world. Thousands in the army blame him because they are not promoted and other thousands out of the army blame him because they are not appointed. The pressure upon him is immeasurable and unending. He is the rock on the beach of our national ocean against which the breakers dash and roar, dash and roar without ceasing. He fights back the angry waters and prevents them from undermining and overwhelming the land. Gentlemen, I do not see how he survives, why he is not crushed and torn to pieces. Without him I should be destroyed. He performs his task superhumanly. Now do not mind this matter, for Mr. Stanton is right and I cannot wrongly interfere with him.”
Quoted in “Edwin McMasters Stanton: The Autocrat of Rebellion, Emancipation, and Reconstruction”,By Frank Abial Flower, p. 369-370.
“He Shook his Hands as if Scaring Sheep”
The session of the Cabinet on that eventful day, the last of President Lincoln’s life, was chiefly occupied on the subject of our relations with the rebels–the communications, the trade, etc. The Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. McCulloch, who had but recently entered upon his duties, was embarrassed in regard to captured cotton, permits, and traffic. It was generally agreed that commercial intercourse with the rebel States should be speedily established. Mr. Stanton proposed that communication should be reopened by his issuing a military order, authorizing and limiting traffic; that the Secretary of the Treasury would give permits to all who wished to trade, and he (Stanton) would order the vessels to be received into any port.
I suggested that instead of a military order from the Secretary of War, the President should issue an Executive order or proclamation for opening the ports to trade, and prescribe therein the duties of the several Departments. Mr. McCulloch expressed his willingness to be relieved from Treasury agents, and General Grant declared himself unequivocally opposed to them and the whole Treasury system of trading within the rebel lines as demoralizing.
In regard to opening the ports to trade, Mr. Stanton thought it should be attended with restrictions, and that traffic should not extend beyond the military lines. I proposed opening the whole coast to every one who wished to trade, was entitled to coast license, and should obtain a regular clearance. I wished the reestablishment of unrestricted commercial and social intercourse with the Southern people with as little delay as possible, from a conviction that it would conduce to a more speedy establishment of friendly relations. Gen- eral Grant concurred with me, and recommended that there should be no restrictions east of the Mississippi. The President referred the whole subject to the Secretaries of the Treasury, War, and Navy, and said he should be satisfied with any conclusions to which they might arrive, or on which they could agree.
At the close of the session Mr. Stanton made some remarks on the general condition of affairs and the new phase and duties upon which we were about to enter. He alluded to the great solicitude which the President felt on this subject, his frequent recurrence to the necessity of establishing civil governments and preserving order in the rebel States. Like the rest of the Cabinet, doubtless, he had given this subject much consideration, and with a view of having something practical on which to base action, he had drawn up a rough plan or ordinance which he had handed to the President.
The President said he proposed to bring forward that subject, although he had not had time as yet to give much attention to the details of the paper which the Secretary of War had given him only the day before; but that it was substantially, in its general scope, the plan which we had sometimes talked over in Cabinet meetings. We should probably make some modifications, prescribe further details; there were some suggestions which he should wish to make, and he desired all to bring their minds to the question, for no greater or more important one could come before us, or any future Cabinet. He thought it providential that this great rebellion was crushed just as Congress had adjourned, and there were none of the disturbing elements of that body to hinder Sand embarrass us. If we were wise and discreet, we should reanimate the States and get their governments in successful operation, with order prevailing and the Union reestablished, before Congress came together in December. This he thought important. We could do better; accomplish more without than with them. There were men in Congress who, if their motives were good, were nevertheless impracticable, and who possessed feelings of hate and vindictiveness in which he did not sympathize and could not participate. He hoped there would be no persecution, no bloody work, after the war was over. None need expect he would take any part in hanging or killing those men, even the worst of them. Frighten them out of the country, open the gates, let down the bars, scare them off, said he, throwing up his hands as if scaring sheep. Enough lives have been sacrificed. We must extinguish our resentments if we expect harmony and union. There was too much of a desire on the part of some of our very good friends to be masters, to interfere with and dictate to those States, to treat the people not as fellow-citizens; there was too little respect for their rights. He did not sympathize in these feelings. Louisiana, he said, had framed and presented one of the best constitutions that had ever been formed. He wished they had permitted negroes who had property, or could read, to vote; but this was a question which they must decide for themselves. Yet some, a very few of our friends, were not willing to let the people of the States determine these questions, but, in violation of first and fundamental principles, would exercise arbitrary power over them. These humanitarians break down all State rights and constitutional rights. Had the Louisianians inserted the negro in their Constitution, and had that instrument been in all other respects the same, Mr. Sumner, he said, would never have excepted to that Constitution. The delegation would have been admitted, and the State all right. Each House of Congress, he said, had the undoubted right’ to receive or reject members; the Executive had no control in this matter. But Congress had nothing to do with the State governments, which the President could recognize, and under existing laws treat as other States, give them the same mail facilities, collect taxes, appoint judges, marshals, collectors, etc., subject, ofcourse, to confirmation. There were men who objected to these views, but they were not here, and we must make haste to do our duty before they came here.
Quoted in Gideon Welles, “Lincoln and Johnson,” Galaxy 13 (April 1872), p. 526.
“It’s Best to Let him Run”
It was one of my duties at this time to receive the reports of the officers of the secret service in every part of the country. On the afternoon of the 14th of April — it was Good Friday — I got a telegram from the provost marshal in Portland, Me., saying: “I have positive information that Jacob Thompson will pass through Portland to-night, in order to take a steamer for England. What are your orders?” Jacob Thompson, of Mississippi, had been Secretary of the Interior in President Buchanan’s administration. He was a conspicuous secessionist, and for some time had been employed in Canada as a semi-diplomatic agent of the Confederate Government. He had been organizing all sorts of trouble and getting up raids, of which the notorious attack on St. Albans, Vt., was a specimen. I took the telegram and went down and read it to Mr. Stanton. His order was prompt: “Arrest him!” But as I was going out of the door he called to me and said: “No, wait; better go over and see the President.”
At the White House all the work of the day was over, and I went into the President’s business room without meeting any one. Opening the door, there seemed to be no one there, but, as I was turning to go out, Mr. Lincoln called to me from a little side room, where he was washing his hands:
“Halloo, Dana!” said he. “What is it? What’s up?”
Then I read him the telegram from Portland.
“What does Stanton say?” he asked.
“He says arrest him, but that I should refer the question to you.”
“Well,” said the President slowly, wiping his hands, “no, I rather think not. When you have got an elephant by the hind leg, and he’s trying to run away, it’s best to let him run.“
With this direction, I returned to the War Department.
“Well, what says he?” asked Mr. Stanton.
“He says that when you have got an elephant by the hind leg, and he is trying to run away, it’s best to let him run.”
“Oh, stuff!” said Stanton.
That night I was awakened from a sound sleep by a messenger with the news that Mr. Lincoln had been shot, and that the Secretary wanted me at a house in Tenth Street. I found the President with a bullet wound in the head, lying unconscious, though breathing heavily, on a bed in a small side room, while all the members of the Cabinet, and the Chief Justice with them, were gathered in the adjoining parlor. They seemed to be almost as much paralyzed as the unconscious sufferer within the little chamber. The surgeons said there was no hope. Mr. Stanton alone was in full activity.
“Sit down here,” said he, “I want you.”
Then he began and dictated orders, one after another, which I wrote out and sent swiftly to the telegraph. All these orders were designed to keep the business of the Government in full motion until the crisis should be over. It seemed as if Mr. Stanton thought of everything, and there was a great deal to be thought of that night. The extent of the conspiracy was, of course, unknown, and the horrible beginning which had been made naturally led us to suspect the worst. The safety of Washington must be looked after. Commanders all over the country had to be ordered to take extra precautions. The people must be notified of the tragedy. The assassins must be captured. The coolness and clear headedness of Mr. Stanton under these circumstances were most remarkable. I remember that one of his first telegrams was to General Dix, the military commander of New York, notifying him of what had happened. No clearer brief account of the tragedy exists to-day than this, written scarcely three hours after the scene in Ford’s Theater, on a little stand in the room where, a few feet away, Mr. Lincoln lay dying.I remained with Mr. Stanton until perhaps three o’clock in the morning. Then he said: “That’s enough. Now you may go home.”
When I left, the President was still alive, breathing heavily and regularly, though, of course, quite unconscious. About eight o’clock I was awakened by a rapping on a lower window. It was Colonel Pelouze, of the adjutant-general’s office, and he said:
‘Mr. Dana, the President is dead, and Mr. Stanton directs you to arrest Jacob Thompson.”
The order was sent to Portland, but Thompson couldn’t be found there. He had taken the Canadian route to Halifax.
Quoted in Charles A. Dana, “Recollection of the Civil War” (1996 edn.), pp. 273-74.
“If he could do so ‘Unbeknown’ to him”
During this interview I inquired of the President if he was all ready for the end of the war. What was to be done with the rebel armies when defeated? And what should be done with the political leaders, such as Jeff. Davis, etc.? Should we allow them to escape, etc.? He said he was all ready; all he wanted of us was to defeat the opposing armies, and to get the men composing the Confederate armies back to their homes, at work on their farms and in their shops. As to Jeff. Davis, he was hardly at liberty to speak his mind fully, but intimated that he ought to clear out, “escape the country,” only it would not do for him to say so openly. As usual, he illustrated his meaning by a story: “A man once had taken the total-abstinence pledge. When visiting a friend, he was invited to take a drink, but declined, on the score of his pledge; when his friend suggested lemonade, which was accepted. In preparing the lemonade, the friend pointed to the brandy-bottle, and said the lemonade would be more palatable if he were to pour in a little brandy ; when his guest said, if he could do so ‘unbeknown’ to him, he would not object.” From which illustration I inferred that Mr. Lincoln wanted Davis to escape, “unbeknown” to him.
Quoted in William T. Sherman, Memoirs of General W. T. Sherman, (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1875; New York: Penguin Books, 2000),p. 682.
“Is that not Putting the Cart Before the Horse?”
The results of the convention were routed through the telegraph office at the War Department. Lincoln was present in the late afternoon when a clerk handed him a dispatch reporting Johnson’s nomination. Having not yet heard his own nomination confirmed, Lincoln was startled. “What! do they nominate a Vice-President before they do a President?” Is that not putting “the cart before the horse”? The embarrassed operator explained that the dispatch about the president’s nomination had come in several hours earlier, while Lincoln was at lunch, and had been sent directly to the White House. “It is all right,” replied Lincoln. “I shall probably find it on my return.”
By Doris Kearns Goodwin,“Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln”,pp. 626 Goodwin-621-423-22,By Francis Bicknell Carpenter, Six Months at the White House, p. 163.