A. Lincoln_ A Biography Part 25

Early on the morning of July 2, 1863, Lincoln read the incoming dispatches from General Meade. The Confederate attacks were uncoordinated and disjointed, whereas the Union leaders acted with initiative and self-a.s.surance. Yet there was no clear outcome of the battles on this second day of fighting.

With Lincoln busy at the War Department, word came that Mary Lincoln, while being driven in her carriage from the Soldiers' Home to the White House, had been involved in an accident. The driver's seat became detached from the carriage, frightening the horses; Mary was tossed from the coach and hit her head on a rock. Although injured, Mary would make a full recovery.

On the morning of July 3, 1863, as preparations in Washington for the Independence Day celebration were in full swing, the battle at Gettysburg turned. Lee, against the counsel of his most trusted generals, decided to attack the center of the Union line. The plan was to overwhelm the Union artillery with Confederate cannon followed by a charge of 13,000 soldiers-ever after known as "Pickett's charge." The advance led to a crushing defeat, with approximately 6,600 Confederate casualties and half again that number taken prisoner. Meade, with the advantage shifted to his side, did not counterattack. An evening rain helped end three of the most deadly days in the war.

On July 3, 1863, at Gettysburg, Mathew Brady photographed the dead of the First Minnesota near the Peach Orchard.

On July 4, 1863, Meade's headquarters issued a congratulatory declaration to the army. He did not write it but must have approved it. "Our task is not yet accomplished, and the commanding general looks to the army for greater efforts to drive from our soil every vestige of the presence of the invader." Lincoln surely winced when he read Meade's declaration. Once again, a Union commander revealed that he did not understand that his task was to destroy the army, not drive it from Union soil, where it could only restore itself once again.

BY THE END OF MAY 1863, Lincoln believed that the fall of Vicksburg was just a matter of time. Grant, having suffered more than 3,000 casualties in his initial a.s.saults, and with an overwhelming advantage in manpower, decided to settle into a siege. Confederate general John Pemberton pleaded for relief, but with Sherman guarding the Union rear with six divisions, no relief would be forthcoming.

As the days turned into weeks, Grant's 80,000 men, with limitless ammunition, slowly squeezed the 30,000 defenders of Vicksburg into submission. Finally, on July 3, Pemberton, who had served in the same division with Grant in the Mexican War, sent his aide-de-camp to discuss terms of surrender with Grant. Lincoln's leading general offered his standard reply: unconditional surrender.

After a siege of forty-seven days, as the Confederate soldiers stacked their rifles in defeat, there was no cheering but silent respect by the victors. The unconditional Grant, out of respect for the bravery of the defenders, granted the condition to the defenders not of a Union prison but of parole. On July 4, at 10 a.m., twelve hundred miles from Gettysburg, the Stars and Stripes was raised over Vicksburg.

FOR THREE DAYS, Washington had waited as incomplete reports trickled in about the battle at Gettysburg. Finally, at 10 p.m. on July 3, the Washington Star Washington Star issued a bulletin of Meade's victory. The next day, the Fourth of July, amid firecrackers and rockets, the U.S. Marine Band played "The Star-Spangled Banner" over and over again. At 10 a.m., the president issued an announcement. He wished the nation to know that the victory at Gettysburg "is such to cover that Army with the highest honor, and to promise a success to the cause of the Union." The an nouncement concluded, "He especially desires that on this day, He whose will, not ours, should ever be done, be everywhere remembered and reverenced with profoundest grat.i.tude." issued a bulletin of Meade's victory. The next day, the Fourth of July, amid firecrackers and rockets, the U.S. Marine Band played "The Star-Spangled Banner" over and over again. At 10 a.m., the president issued an announcement. He wished the nation to know that the victory at Gettysburg "is such to cover that Army with the highest honor, and to promise a success to the cause of the Union." The an nouncement concluded, "He especially desires that on this day, He whose will, not ours, should ever be done, be everywhere remembered and reverenced with profoundest grat.i.tude."

On July 7, Secretary Welles received word from Admiral Porter that Vicksburg had fallen on July 4, 1863. The celebration started up again. At 8 p.m. on July 7, 1863, a huge throng a.s.sembled at the National Hotel and marched up Pennsylvania Avenue to the Executive Mansion. Reaching the White House, the crowd serenaded the president until Lincoln appeared at a window and offered an impromptu response. After thanking both the a.s.semblage and "Almighty G.o.d," Lincoln asked a question. "How long ago is it?-eighty odd years-since on the Fourth of July for the first time in the history of the world a nation by its representatives, a.s.sembled and declared as a self-evident truth that 'all men are created equal?' " The sentence was too long and complex, but he would tuck the idea away for later use.

UNBEKNOWNST TO THE PUBLIC that festive evening, but known to members of his cabinet who had met earlier that day, Lincoln was deeply disturbed that Meade, flushed with victory and attending to housekeeping duties of his battered troops, had failed to go after Lee. The rains that fell on Gettysburg on the evening of July 3, 1863, kept falling, so Lee was stuck in Pennsylvania, unable to ford the raging Potomac River. Meade's infantry skirmished with some of Lee's rearguard troops on July 11, 12, and 13, more than a week after the victory celebrations in Washington. Finally, on the morning of July 14, at 6 a.m., the Union forces mounted their long-awaited offensive. But when they approached the river, there was no one to fight. The last of Lee's troops had crossed over during the night. that festive evening, but known to members of his cabinet who had met earlier that day, Lincoln was deeply disturbed that Meade, flushed with victory and attending to housekeeping duties of his battered troops, had failed to go after Lee. The rains that fell on Gettysburg on the evening of July 3, 1863, kept falling, so Lee was stuck in Pennsylvania, unable to ford the raging Potomac River. Meade's infantry skirmished with some of Lee's rearguard troops on July 11, 12, and 13, more than a week after the victory celebrations in Washington. Finally, on the morning of July 14, at 6 a.m., the Union forces mounted their long-awaited offensive. But when they approached the river, there was no one to fight. The last of Lee's troops had crossed over during the night.

That day, Halleck wrote Meade, "The enemy should be pursued and cut up, wherever he may have gone." He went on to say, "I need hardly say to you that the escape of Lee's army without another battle has created great dissatisfaction in the mind of the President."

Meade could not bear this censure and immediately offered to resign his command. Lincoln took up his pen to reply that very day, although his letter may have taken several days to compose. After thanking Meade for what he did at Gettysburg and recapitulating the strength of Meade's forces and the weakness of Lee's forces, he concluded: I do not believe you appreciate the magnitude of the misfortune involved in Lee's escape-He was within your easy grasp, and to have closed upon him would, in connection with our other late successes, have ended the war-As it is, the war will be prolonged indefinitely. If you could not safely attack Lee last Monday, how can you possibly do so South of the river, when you can take with you very few more than two thirds of the force you then had in hand? It would be unreasonable to expect, and I do not expect you can now effect much. Your golden opportunity is gone, and I am distressed immeasurably because of it.

This was a strong letter from the commander in chief to the commander of the Army of the Potomac. Too strong. Lincoln never sent it, understanding that if he sent it he would lose the services of a hard-working commander. Lincoln folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, on which he wrote, "To Gen. Meade, never sent, or signed."

Lincoln recognized, even if many did not, that the victory at Vicksburg was at least equal to the accomplishment at Gettysburg.

One day before writing Meade, Lincoln took up his pen to write a very different letter to Grant. On July 13, 1863, he began, "I do not remember that you and I ever met personally." After acknowledging "the almost inestimable service you have done the country," Lincoln said he wished "to say a word further."

When you first reached the vicinity of Vicksburg, I thought you should do what you finally did-march the troops across the neck, run the batteries with the transports and thus go below; and I never had any faith, except a general hope that you knew better than I, that the Yazoo-Pa.s.s expedition, and the like could succeed. When you got below, and took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf and vicinity, I thought you should go down the river and join Gen. Banks; and when you turned Northward, East of the Big Black, I feared it was a mistake.

Lincoln, after this detailed recitation of his disagreements with Grant's strategy, concluded: "I now wish to make the personal acknowledgement that you were right and I was wrong."

In two days, Lincoln wrote two completely different letters to the commanders who had won victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg. The letters reflected his quite different views of the two generals. Meade had fought well in a defensive posture in a battle he had not sought, but had failed to follow up that victory. Grant had continuously sought the initiative and, in the face of many setbacks, against ma.s.sive fortifications, de termined to achieve nothing but unconditional surrender of the enemy.

The Union victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg marked a turning point in the war, but Lincoln understood that the South was far from defeated and that there would be much hard fighting ahead. Lincoln, confronting a North tiring of war, had much to do to convince them that the fight to preserve the Union was worth the sacrifice.

IN AN AUGUST 9, 1863, letter to Ulysses S. Grant, Lincoln brought up the possibility of the arming of black troops. He noted that General Lorenzo Thomas was recruiting black troops. "I believe it is a resource which if vigourously applied now, will soon close the contest."

Yet, Frederick Dougla.s.s was discouraged. He had discovered the Union army was treating black soldiers poorly and not providing equal pay. Draft riots had erupted in New York City in early July. The mostly black victims were beaten to death while their homes and churches were burned. Lincoln had to deploy federal troops to restore order. Major George Luther Stearns, a wealthy Boston abolitionist, had appointed Dougla.s.s as an agent for recruitment and now encouraged him to present his concerns to Lincoln.

On August 10, 1863, Dougla.s.s arrived at the White House in hopes of seeing Lincoln, but when he entered, he saw a large number of people waiting with the same intent. To his surprise, within minutes, a door opened and Dougla.s.s was ushered into Lincoln's office. The president stood to welcome him. Dougla.s.s pressed upon Lincoln the need for more official recognition of black troops. They spoke about the troublesome issue of unequal pay for blacks.

Dougla.s.s was taken aback by the tone and substance of their conversation. Later, in Philadelphia, he spoke about his meeting with Lincoln. "I never met with a man, who, on the first blush, impressed me more entirely with his sincerity, with his devotion to his country, and with his determination to save it at all hazards."

On August 23, 1863, Grant replied to Lincoln, "I have given the subject of arming the negro my hearty support. This, with the emanc.i.p.ation of the negro, is the heaviest blow yet given the Confederacy." The exchange with Grant and the meeting with Dougla.s.s prompted the president to seek out a public opportunity to defend both emanc.i.p.ation and the courage of the black soldiers.

So when he was invited to speak at a "Grand Ma.s.s Meeting" in Springfield, Illinois, on September 3, 1863, his heart must surely have leapt.

Lincoln's old Springfield neighbor James C. Conkling had tendered the invitation. He wrote, "It would be gratifying to the many thousands who will be present on that occasion if you will also meet with them." He concluded with a plea, "Can you not give us a favorable reply?"

Conkling made Lincoln a tempting offer. After victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, Conkling believed the Springfield meeting offered Lincoln the opportunity to speak about his policies at a crucial moment. Lincoln could expect that vindication would be his traveling companion on the train trip home to Springfield.

Frederick Dougla.s.s, abolitionist editor and reformer, strongly disapproved of Lincoln's First Inaugural Address. Dougla.s.s's meeting with Lincoln at the White House in August 1863 began a series of significant conversations between the two leaders.

Six days later Lincoln replied: "Your letter of the 14th is received. I think I will go, or send a letter-probably the latter."

Lincoln's secretaries, John Nicolay and John Hay, both from Illinois, appreciated the emotional tug-of-war they observed in their boss. "For a moment the President cherished the hope of going to Springfield, and once more in his life renewing the sensation, so dear to politicians, of personal contact with great and enthusiastic ma.s.ses, and of making one more speech to shouting thousands of his fellow-citizens."

Conkling wrote again on August 21, 1863. "While it would afford the many thousands of loyal men a.s.sembled together on that occasion, great pleasure to hear from you, by Letter ... they would infinitely prefer to see you in person."

With little time before the event, Lincoln had to make a decision. On August 26, 1863, he gave his answer. "It would be very agreeable to me, to thus meet my old friends, at my own home; but I can not, just now, be absent from here, so long as a visit there, would require."

The next day, Lincoln wrote on War Department stationery, "I cannot leave here now. Herewith is a letter instead. I have but one suggestion-read it very slowly."

William O. Stoddard witnessed the composition of the letter. As a young newspaper editor from Champaign, Illinois, he was one of the first to champion Lincoln for the Republican nomination in 1859. He now served as an additional secretary, a.s.sisting Nicolay and Hay, from 1861 to 1864. Stoddard entered Lincoln's office on or about August 23, 1863, and the president asked him if he could read what he was writing aloud, saying, "I can always tell more about a thing after I've heard it read aloud, and know how it sounds."

The September 3, 1863, meeting was in part a response to a large "peace meeting" that had been held in Springfield on June 17. On a warm summer's day, a Democratic antiadministration crowd of upward of forty thousand had listened to heated oratory critical of Lincoln, the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation, and the arming of black troops. The culmination of the day's events was the adoption of twenty-four resolutions, highlighted by what became known as the famous twenty-third resolution, declaring, "Further offensive prosecution of this war tends to subvert the const.i.tution and the government, and entail upon this Nation all the disastrous consequences of misrule and anarchy." In Lincoln's hometown, the boisterous a.s.semblage churned out anti-Lincoln sentiment as it called for peace.

Expecting a huge crowd for the September meeting, organizers arranged for speeches to take place into the twilight at a half dozen stands. Conkling drew out Lincoln's letter and started to read-slowly.

Lincoln did not usually respond to critics, especially Peace Democrats or Copperheads, but he began this speech by addressing them as well as his supporters, not simply at Springfield but in the nation. "There are those who are dissatisfied with me. To such I would say: You desire peace; and you blame me that we do not have it."

The victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, hailed by most Republicans, were understood quite differently by Peace Democrats, War Democrats, and some conservative Republicans. They greeted these victories as an opportunity to bargain for peace and end the war.

Lincoln, invited to speak in Springfield on September 3, 1863, sent a letter read by his friend James Conkling to the largest Union rally of the war.But, to be plain, you are dissatisfied with me about the negro. Quite likely there is a difference of opinion between you and myself upon that subject. I certainly wish that all men could be free, while I suppose you do not. ... You dislike the emanc.i.p.ation proclamation; and, perhaps, would have it retracted. You say it is unconst.i.tutional-I think differently, I think the Const.i.tution invests its commander-in-chief, with the law of war, in time of war.

Lincoln recognized that their conflict with him was over African-Americans and slavery. He knew that there were few abolitionists in the West. Most who united with the Republican Party in the 1850s shared his rejection of the expansion of slavery, but were not committed to its obliteration.

Lincoln used here almost the same words with which he had ended his public letter to Horace Greeley: "I certainly wish that all men could be free." In his response to Greeley, written one year before, he had made a distinction between his personal wish and his duty under the Const.i.tution. A year later, this division between personal and public views was no longer present.

You say you will not fight to free negroes. Some of them seem willing to fight for you; but, no matter. Fight you, then, exclusively to save the Union. I issued the [Emanc.i.p.ation] proclamation on purpose to aid you in saving the Union. Whenever you shall have conquered all resistance to the Union, if I shall urge you to continue fighting, it will be an apt time, then, for you to declare you will not fight to free Negroes.

Lincoln had concluded his letter to Greeley by stating, "I shall adopt new views so fast as they appear to be true views." His affirmation of black soldiers here demonstrates how far he had traveled in the eight months since January 1, 1863.

These fiery words gave the Springfield letter its ident.i.ty, but nowhere is Lincoln's political and military strategy expressed in more picturesque language. Instead of detailing a list of military battles and victories, Lincoln invited his audience to stand with him on the mighty Mississippi. For Western people whose lives radiated around rivers, Lincoln could not have chosen a more open metaphor. He wanted this Illinois audience to appreciate all the partners in making the Mississippi free again.

The signs look better. The Father of Waters again goes unvexed to the sea. Thanks to the great North-West for it. Not yet wholly to them. Three hundred miles up, they met New-England, Empire, Keystone, and Jersey, hewing their way right and left. The Sunny South too, in more colors than one, also lent a hand. On the spot, their part of the history was jotted down in black and white.

Lincoln's rhetoric soared when he allowed his imagination free rein. A sign signifies something that points beyond itself. What did these signs point toward? The preservation of the Union. If Lincoln told Greeley he would save the Union, he told Conkling what kind of Union was worth saving.

Lincoln used images to describe these allies working together. He also doffed his tall stovepipe hat to the "Sunny South." Up until now, the images had all been geographical, one kind of diversity. Lincoln now changed the metaphors of diversity in his word picture: "in more colors than one." He said to the naysayers and doubters in the audience that even the South has "lent a hand" and that this part was acted out by both "black and white."

Dougla.s.s had once accused Lincoln of fighting with his white hand while his black hand was tied behind his back. Lincoln now used the same metaphor to affirm the black hand and point to the courageous actions of black soldiers. The great majority of black soldiers who would fight for the Union were from the South.

In a grand transitional sentence, Lincoln moved from images of s.p.a.ce to images of time.

Peace does not appear so distant as it did. I hope it will come soon, and come to stay; and so come as to be worth the keeping in all future time. It will then have been proved that, among free men, there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and that they who take such appeal are sure to lose their case, and pay the cost.

Lincoln allowed himself to think in the future tense about the shape of peace. He expressed his sense of hope by repeating the image of "come" three times: "come soon," "come to stay;" "come as to be worth keeping in all future time."

This balanced sentence created in the listener a crescendo of expectation toward the future.

Finally, Lincoln presented a contrast between the courage of black soldiers and the malevolence of some whites. Lincoln had previously commended the use of black soldiers in private letters, and he now did so, dramatically, in a public letter and speech.

And then, there will be some black men who can remember that, with silent tongue, and clenched teeth, and steady eye, and well-poised bayonet, they have helped mankind on to this great consummation; while, I fear, there will be some white ones, unable to forget that, with malignant heart, and deceitful speech, they have strove to hinder it.

His words were powerful because he did not rely on a.n.a.lysis but on description. The "black men" that Lincoln extols are portrayed "with silent tongue, and clenched teeth," "and well-poised bayonet." Whereas the white men are pictured "with malignant heart," "and deceitful speech."

Lincoln worked with contrasts to heighten his message. The black men are "silent" whereas the "white ones" are noisy with "deceitful speech." The black soldiers, who had won Lincoln's admiration, he praised because "they have helped mankind on to this great consummation;" whereas some white men "have strove to hinder it."

Lincoln did not just praise the courage of blacks; he did so in contrast to the reticence of whites.

Because Conkling read Lincoln's words, it would seem we cannot know how Lincoln would have spoken these words to a real audience. But we can, through Stoddard's recollections of Lincoln reading the letter aloud in his office.

Stoddard described the metamorphosis in Lincoln when he was roused from writer to speaker. "He is more an orator than a writer, and he is quickly warmed up to the place where his voice rises and his long right arm goes out, and he speaks to you somewhat as if you were a hundred thousand people of an audience, and as if he believes that fifty thousand of you do not at all agree with him. He will convince the half of you, if he can, before he has done with it."

Stoddard "noted the singular emphasis which he put upon the words: 'And there will be some black men who can remember with silent tongue, and clenched teeth, and steady eye, and well poised bayonet, they have helped mankind on to this great consummation.' "

He was a witness to the weight that Lincoln gave to these words-even if he was speaking to an audience of one.

The ma.s.s meeting in Springfield was a huge success. Conkling wrote to Lincoln on September 4, 1863, "The Letter was received by the Convention with the greatest enthusiasm."

In the following days a wide circle of people commended the letter. Greeley, one year later, appreciated that Lincoln had used a rally to defend the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation. " 'G.o.d Bless Abraham Lincoln!' The Promise must be kept!"

Abolitionists offered enthusiastic praise not accorded earlier Lincoln speeches. Senator Charles Sumner wrote from Boston, "Thanks for your true and n.o.ble letter. It is an historical doc.u.ment." Sumner's Ma.s.sachusetts colleague, Senator Henry Wilson, wrote, "G.o.d Almighty bless you for your n.o.ble, patriotic, and Christian letter." Wilson understood the public letter's importance in the crosscurrents of conversation. "It will be on the lips, and in the hearts of hundreds of thousands this day." John Murray Forbes, a railroad magnate and abolitionist, who had helped to organize African-American troops in Ma.s.sachusetts, wrote to Lincoln on September 8, 1863. "Your letter to the Springfield Convention ... will live in history side by side with your [Emanc.i.p.ation] proclamation." Forbes believed Lincoln's letter to Conkling spoke to a wide audience. "It meets the fears of the timid and the doubts of the reformer."

On September 10, 1863, George Opd.y.k.e, the mayor of New York, stopped at the White House. Opd.y.k.e was a wealthy merchant who had joined the Republican Party in large measure because of its antislavery posture. Only three weeks before, on the evening of August 18, a group of twenty-five radical Republicans had met at Opd.y.k.e's home to explore the possibility of convening a convention to nominate a candidate for president in 1864 other than Lincoln. Opd.y.k.e now came to thank the president "for his recent admirable letter to the Springfield Convention."

IN SEPTEMBER 1863, Lincoln understood more than ever that his task was to convince more than half of a wearying Northern public that this terrible war was worth fighting. His words at Springfield on September 3 were his pledge that he intended to follow through on the full meaning of the promise of the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation. Surprised by the public response to his words, as summer turned into fall, Lincoln was more alert than ever for other occasions where he could convey his vision and influence public opinion about the meaning and purpose of the war.

This photograph by Alexander Gardner was taken on November 8, 1863, ten days before Lincoln traveled to Gettysburg to deliver his address.

CHAPTER 24.

A New Birth of Freedom September 1863March 1864 NOW WE ARE ENGAGED IN A GREAT CIVIL WAR TESTING WHETHER THAT NATION, OR ANY NATION SO CONCEIVED, AND SO DEDICATED, CAN LONG ENDURE.

ABRAHAM LINCOLNGettysburg Address, November 19, 1863 -HE SIGNS LOOK BETTER. SO ABRAHAM LINCOLN HAD DECLARED IN his letter to the Springfield meeting on September 3, 1863, but not everyone agreed. Whether the president's confident outlook was justified would become a matter of vigorous debate in the fall of 1863. Politicians, generals, and preachers all became instant pundits, forecasting the future. How one saw "the signs" depended on where one stood. his letter to the Springfield meeting on September 3, 1863, but not everyone agreed. Whether the president's confident outlook was justified would become a matter of vigorous debate in the fall of 1863. Politicians, generals, and preachers all became instant pundits, forecasting the future. How one saw "the signs" depended on where one stood.

With crucial elections in key states coming up in October, Republicans closed ranks-at least on the surface-to express their public support for the president. They feared Democratic election gains of 1862 could be expanded in the state elections of 1863. Meanwhile, Lincoln found himself d.a.m.ned with faint praise by leaders in Washington. The president was an honest and good person, so went the conversations in the congressional corridors of power, but he remained too soft and too slow. In the barrooms beyond the cloakrooms, radical Republicans freely voiced their denunciations of the president-he was not up to the job.

Out in the country, by contrast, people increasingly recognized in Lincoln a gentle leader, free from the egomania a.s.sociated with most political leaders; in short, he was a man they could trust. Lincoln's public letters of 1863 generated an upswing of goodwill. He received a boost in the fall when The Letters of President Lincoln on Questions of The Letters of President Lincoln on Questions of National Policy National Policy enjoyed a brisk sale at eight cents a copy. The twenty-two-page pamphlet brought together letters to General George McClellan, Horace Greeley, New York mayor Fernando Wood, the Albany Committee, Governor Horatio Seymour, and the Springfield meeting. Ordinary people, when reading the pamphlet, began to recognize both Lincoln's political genius in dealing with nettlesome questions and his artistry with words. enjoyed a brisk sale at eight cents a copy. The twenty-two-page pamphlet brought together letters to General George McClellan, Horace Greeley, New York mayor Fernando Wood, the Albany Committee, Governor Horatio Seymour, and the Springfield meeting. Ordinary people, when reading the pamphlet, began to recognize both Lincoln's political genius in dealing with nettlesome questions and his artistry with words.

Henry Ward Beecher spoke for many religious leaders in his estimate of Lincoln. Writing in the Independent, Independent, an influential weekly founded in 1848 with evangelical and antislavery roots, Beecher declared, "Rising to the dignity of the time, the President during his third year has shown a comprehensive policy and a wisdom in its execution which promise to broaden his sun at its setting." an influential weekly founded in 1848 with evangelical and antislavery roots, Beecher declared, "Rising to the dignity of the time, the President during his third year has shown a comprehensive policy and a wisdom in its execution which promise to broaden his sun at its setting."

George Curtis, author of the celebrated "Lounger" column in Harper's Weekly, Harper's Weekly, provided the most astute a.n.a.lysis in the fall of 1863. "The conservative Republicans think him too much in the hands of the radicals; while the radical Republicans think him too slow, yielding, and half-hearted." Curtis had come to believe Lincoln knew better than anyone how to play the political game. "Both factions had to accept [Lincoln's] leadership-for the moment." provided the most astute a.n.a.lysis in the fall of 1863. "The conservative Republicans think him too much in the hands of the radicals; while the radical Republicans think him too slow, yielding, and half-hearted." Curtis had come to believe Lincoln knew better than anyone how to play the political game. "Both factions had to accept [Lincoln's] leadership-for the moment."

"FOR THE MOMENT." Time indeed weighed heavily on Lincoln's mind. He said so in a private letter to Governor Andrew Johnson of Tennessee. "It is something on the question of time, time, to remember that it cannot be known who is next to occupy the position I now hold, nor what he will do." He knew party radicals were dissatisfied with him, and that some in his party were casting about for an alternative candidate for 1864. He believed that Democrats thought their chances for victory in 1864 improved the longer the war went on. Aware it had been more than thirty years since a president had been elected to a second term, Lincoln pondered how to improve the Republicans' odds. to remember that it cannot be known who is next to occupy the position I now hold, nor what he will do." He knew party radicals were dissatisfied with him, and that some in his party were casting about for an alternative candidate for 1864. He believed that Democrats thought their chances for victory in 1864 improved the longer the war went on. Aware it had been more than thirty years since a president had been elected to a second term, Lincoln pondered how to improve the Republicans' odds.

Should he a.s.sume the mantle of the partisan party leader? He had become a party leader in Illinois by learning how to apply grease to the wheels of party machinery, be they Whig or Republican wheels. In Washington, he had a.s.sumed a more independent stance in terms of party organization.

Or should he increase his efforts to reach out beyond his Republican base? From his first political campaign in Illinois to his appointment of his presidential rivals to his cabinet, Lincoln possessed the rare political instinct to move beyond partisanship and bring people of differing viewpoints together.

Lincoln made his decision. He would appeal for a larger loyalty. He had been pleased when the call went out to the Springfield meeting of September 3, 1863, to "Unconditional Union men of the State of Illinois, without regard to former party a.s.sociations." He now envisioned a new National Union Party to run in the remaining state elections of 1863 and in the national election of 1864. He urged Republicans to run under this banner in the hopes of attracting the votes of Democrats.

LINCOLN QUICKLY LEARNED that battlefield results influenced election results. The battle for the West now shifted from Vicksburg to Chattanooga. Lincoln understood that while Vicksburg had been the key to controlling the Mississippi, whoever controlled Chattanooga, located at thejuncture of Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia, held the keys to the back doors of Virginia to the east and Georgia to the south. Situated in a valley between the Appalachian and the c.u.mberland mountain ranges, Chattanooga was a hub for rail lines radiating to the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic Ocean. It was second only to Richmond as the prize for federal forces in the fall of 1863. If the Union forces could oust the Confederate forces from the region around Chattanooga, the door could swing wide open to Georgia and ultimately to the Atlantic Ocean. If the Confederate forces could hold this corner of eastern Tennessee, they could keep the door open to supply Virginia from the west. that battlefield results influenced election results. The battle for the West now shifted from Vicksburg to Chattanooga. Lincoln understood that while Vicksburg had been the key to controlling the Mississippi, whoever controlled Chattanooga, located at thejuncture of Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia, held the keys to the back doors of Virginia to the east and Georgia to the south. Situated in a valley between the Appalachian and the c.u.mberland mountain ranges, Chattanooga was a hub for rail lines radiating to the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic Ocean. It was second only to Richmond as the prize for federal forces in the fall of 1863. If the Union forces could oust the Confederate forces from the region around Chattanooga, the door could swing wide open to Georgia and ultimately to the Atlantic Ocean. If the Confederate forces could hold this corner of eastern Tennessee, they could keep the door open to supply Virginia from the west.

Lincoln knew that the people of this mountainous region, although living in a seceded state, remained fiercely loyal to the Union. They did not own slaves. Cut off geographically from both middle Tennessee to the west and Georgia to the south, they were an isolated mountain island in the midst of the Confederacy.

Lincoln had been discouraged when General William Rosecrans had stopped at Murfreesboro in middle Tennessee after his victory at Stones River in January 1863. Rosecrans, with a reputation for bold action, inexplicably seemed to give way to caution. Finally, on June 23, after nearly six months of preparation and unrelenting pressure from Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton, Rosecrans's Army of the c.u.mberland pushed the Confederate forces under General Braxton Bragg one hundred miles over the c.u.mberland mountains and across the Tennessee River to the edge of Chattanooga, with a loss of only 560 casualties. Then Rosecrans stopped again.

On July 7, 1863, Stanton, elated by the news of the victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, wired Rosecrans, "You and your n.o.ble army now have the chance to put the finishing blow to the rebellion. Will you neglect the chance?"

Rosecrans, more than a little annoyed that his army's accomplishments had not been fully acknowledged, wired back, "You do not appear to observe the fact that this n.o.ble army has driven the rebels from Middle Tennessee. ... I beg in behalf of this army that the War Department may not overlook so great an event because it is not written in showers of blood." Old Rosy's final comment was a not-so-subtle reference to his belief that Grant had sacrificed far too many men to achieve victory at Vicksburg.

At Lincoln's urging, Henry Halleck wired Rosecrans on July 24, 1863. "There is great disappointment felt here at the slowness of your advance." Later that day, Halleck wrote again, "The patience of the authorities here has been completely exhausted."

Rosecrans, bypa.s.sing Halleck, wrote the princ.i.p.al authority on August 1, 1863. In a long letter to Lincoln he listed nine reasons for his delay. He told Lincoln he had been held up by a torn-up Louisville and Nashville railroad, by a lack of "adequate cavalry," by rains that had rendered the "turnpikes next to impossible," that he needed to draw supplies 260 miles "exposed to hostile cavalry raids," and on and on. Rosecrans concluded, "You will not be surprised if in face of these difficulties it takes time to organize the means of success."

Lincoln, having the same sinking feeling about Rosecrans that he had in the past about too many previous commanders, began his reply with his customary affirmation, expressing his "kind feeling for and confidence in you." Lincoln hoped to calm the agitated Rosecrans, to get him to stop worrying and start fighting. The president concluded, "Do not misunderstand. ... I am not watching you with an evil eye."

Rosecrans's Army of the c.u.mberland finally moved on Chattanooga on August 16, 1863. The Confederate Army of Tennessee, under General Braxton Bragg, abandoned the city on September 9. General Ambrose Burnside, in command of the small Army of the Ohio, had captured Knoxville, Tennessee, in a parallel advance a week earlier. Lincoln had hoped to liberate eastern Tennessee in the fall of 1861, but it seemed finally accomplished in the fall of 1863. Or was it? Rosecrans, heading south into Georgia in three columns, believed he had defeated Bragg, but the Confederate general had only engineered a strategic retreat, waiting to fight another day at a time and place of his choosing.

General William Rosecrans, "Old Rosy," commanded the Army of the c.u.mberland as it approached Chattanooga, the back door to Virginia and Georgia.

On September 19 and 20, 1863, Bragg hurled his troops at Rosecrans at Chickamauga Creek southeast of Chattanooga. A misguided move by Rosecrans on the second day allowed fifteen thousand Confederate troops to punch through on his right. General James Longstreet, Rose-crans's roommate from the cla.s.s of 1842 at West Point, arrived on September 20 with two divisions from the Army of Northern Virginia and helped sweep one-third of the Union forces from the field. Rosecrans and part of his army retreated back to Chattanooga, but General George H. Thomas stayed on the field, rallied his men on Snodgra.s.s Hill, and blocked the further movement of the Confederate forces. For his heroism, Thomas earned the nickname "the Rock of Chickamauga."

On September 20, 1863, Charles Dana, a.s.sistant secretary of war, but in truth Stanton's spy, wired his boss, "Chickamauga is as fatal a name in our history as Bull Run. ... [O]ur soldiers turned and fled. It was a wholesale panic."

Lincoln stayed at the telegraph office late into the evening, wiring Burnside at 2 a.m., September 21,1863, "Go to Rosecrans with your force, without a moments delay." Learning that Burnside had sent troops in the opposite direction to Jonesboro, in pursuit of small guerrilla forces, Lincoln returned to the telegraph office. "d.a.m.nJonesboro!" he exclaimed.

"Well, Rosecrans has been whipped, as I feared." Lincoln walked into John Hay's bedroom in the White House early on the morning of September 21, even before his young secretary was up. Sitting down on Hay's bed, Lincoln continued, "I have feared it for several days. I believe I feel trouble in the air before it comes."

At 11 a.m., Lincoln wrote Burnside again, "If you are to do any good to Rosecrans it will not do to waste time with Jonesboro." Four days later, in exasperation, Lincoln wrote saying that the receipt of Burn-side's most recent telegram "makes me doubt whether I am awake or dreaming." Lincoln recounted Burnside's protestations over the many days that he was preparing to move, but never seemed to do so. At one point, Lincoln called Burnside's actions "incomprehensible." Lincoln signed the letter, blotted the ink, endorsed the envelope, struggled to get control of his anger, and decided not to send it.

On the evening of September 23, 1863, shortly after Lincoln had gone to bed at the Soldiers' Home, he was awakened by his secretary John Hay, who had ridden out in "splendid moonlight" to invite the president back to a hastily called midnight meeting convened by Stan-ton. A "considerably disturbed" Lincoln dressed and returned with Hay, where he found Halleck, Seward, and Chase had joined Stanton. They discussed the options for sending reinforcements to support Rosecrans. Stanton asked Halleck how long it would take for troops from the Army of the Potomac to reach Chattanooga. The general supposed sixty days, perhaps forty. Stanton responded that if traders could ship twenty thousand bales of cotton by railroad to Chattanooga in twenty days, let the Union send twenty thousand soldiers.

Lincoln was skeptical of the whole operation, pointing out that "you can't get one corps into Washington in the time you fix for reaching Nashville." He then proceeded to humorously ill.u.s.trate this "impossibility," but Stanton interjected that "the danger was too imminent & the occasion too serious for jokes." The conversation continued until almost morning with the president and Halleck, originally opposed, finally offering their support for the plan.

Lincoln was wrong. The troops began moving to the railheads in twelve hours and boarded the trains on the morning of September 25, 1863. In a stunning example of the transportation revolution, Stanton elicited cooperation from railroad men so that five trains, each with thirty cars, left Washington. In the end, five sets of five trains traveled on a route of 1,233 miles. Lincoln had his doubts, but twenty-three thousand men, more than twenty thousand horses, plus artillery and equipment, rolled toward Chattanooga. They traveled on nine independently operated railroads with different gauge tracks over the Appalachians and across the Ohio River, where bridges had to be improvised twice, arriving eleven days later at a railhead near Chattanooga.