Team Of Rivals Part 48

CHAPTER 23

"THERE'S A MAN IN IT!"

NEW YEAR'S DAY, 1864, dawned "fearfully cold and windy," Noah Brooks recorded, and "the morning newspaper and the milkman were alike snapped up by the nipping frosts." Eventually, a bright sun scattered the clouds, and a mood of good cheer enveloped the city as the National Republican headlined the long list of Union victories during the previous year-"Murfreesboro, Vicksburg, Morris Island, Gettysburg, Port Hudson, Chattanooga, Knoxville."

"History does not furnish a year's victories by the armies of any country in any war that will excel these," the National Republican boasted. "We have a right to be somewhat gay and festive here at the national metropolis. No one wishes to deny that we have had a rebellious storm, and that the political horizon is still somewhat muggy; but our gallant old ship of State, with Abraham Lincoln at the helm, has weathered the gale." William Stoddard echoed these sentiments in a published dispatch. "The instinct of all, rather than the reasoning, teaches us, as it has the rest of the country, that once and for all the danger is over."

At 10 a.m., official Washington began arriving at the White House for the traditional New Year's reception. At noon, when the gates opened to the general public, eight thousand people streamed in-"a human kaleidescope, constantly changing," of "diplomats and dragoons, exquisites from the Atlantic cities and hardy backwoodsmen, contented contractors and shoddy swindlers, ingenious patentees and persevering pet.i.tioners."

Lincoln considered his meetings with the general public his "public-opinion baths." They "serve to renew in me a clearer and more vivid image of that great popular a.s.semblage out of which I sprung," he told a visitor, "and though they may not be pleasant in all their particulars, the effect, as a whole, is renovating and invigorating to my perceptions of responsibility and duty."

"European democrats go into ecstasies over so palpable a sign of our universal equality," Stoddard noted, while "European aristocrats, attaches of legations, tourists, and the like, turn up their noses somewhat scornfully at so singularly American a custom." Visitors noted that Lincoln "appeared to be in excellent health and spirits, and whatever perplexities his generals may give him, he possesses the happy faculty of leaving them in his office upstairs, when he comes down to receive the salutations of the people. His clear eyes beamed with good humor, and he not only cordially returned the pressure of each offered hand, but generally said a pleasant word or two." Noah Brooks noted that Mary Lincoln "never looked better," having replaced her black "mourning garb" with a rich purple velvet dress.

"We seem to have reached a new stage in the war," Fred Seward wrote home. "Gayety has become as epidemic in Washington this winter, as gloom was last winter. There is a lull in political discussions; and people are inclined to eat, drink, and be merry. The newspapers can furnish nothing more interesting to their readers, than accounts of parties, b.a.l.l.s and theaters, like so many Court Journals. Questions of etiquette are debated with gravity. People talk of 'society,' who never before knew or cared about it."

The winter social calendar followed a prescribed order. The president's receptions were on Tuesday evenings, the first lady's matinees on Sat.u.r.day afternoons, the soirees of the Speaker of the House on Friday nights. No cards of invitation were required for these events. Since the president and speaker held their offices at the will of the people, their homes were open to the public at large. In contrast, invitations were necessary, and highly coveted, for the elegant parties at the dwellings of cabinet officers. Access to the drawing rooms of Seward and Chase were prized most of all.

Social columnists attributed the legendary success of the parties held by the secretary of state to both his genial wit and the "grace and elegance" of his daughter-in-law, Anna, "who with such rare art groups those of congenial tastes, and makes all truly 'at home.'" For young belles, there was added mystique in the presence of the diplomatic corps, which held out the t.i.tillating prospect of attracting a t.i.tled foreigner. For those fascinated by fashion and etiquette, nothing compared to the impeccable manners and gorgeous dress of the diplomats, bespangled with ribbons and garters denoting different orders of knighthood. "Who wonders that the House of Gov. Seward is a favorite resort," one columnist asked, "and who that enjoys his hospitality does not wish that he might be Secretary of State forever, and be 'at home' once a week."

At the Chase mansion, Kate Sprague continued to be the "observed of all observers." Whether dressed in blue brocade, gray, or simple black, she impressed congressmen, senators, and generals alike with her interest in politics and familiarity with military affairs. Holding court at the entrance, she had an appropriate greeting for every guest. Benjamin French thought her "one of the most lovable women" he had ever seen. Noah Brooks was likewise smitten, at once recognizing the delightful contrast to her "frosty" father, who "looked uncomfortable and generally bothered" at these affairs. Chase's nearsightedness had grown so extreme that he was unable to recognize anyone without "a very close examination." Nevertheless, he still refused to wear gla.s.ses.

The Washington elite preferred the fancy dinner parties at the Seward and Chase mansions to the public levees at the White House, where bonnets were crushed and cloaks occasionally stolen in the chaos. During the winter, Mary found it necessary to put durable brown coverings over her elegant French carpets to protect them from the muddy tramp of the "human tide" that poured in to shake hands with the president. Many visitors were ill dressed and bedraggled, as after a long dusty ride, and some still carried their carpetbags. The elegant furnishings that Mary had so lovingly and expensively put in place took a beating. Brooks noted that "the lace curtains, heavy cords, ta.s.sels, and damask drapery have suffered considerably this season from the hands of relic-hunting vandals who actually clip off small bits of the precious stuff to carry home as mementoes." Desperate to preserve their experience, some even lifted the brown covering and cut out pieces of the French carpet "as large as a man's hand."

For Mary, who relished her position as first lady, it was galling to read in the papers that Seward, not she, would inaugurate "the fashionable 'season.'" He was to host an exclusive party for the visiting members of the National Academy of Science, along with "the heads of the foreign Legations, the Cabinet, the Justices of the Supreme Court, the presiding officers of the two Houses of Congress and the Committees on Foreign Relations, with their families." That same week, the New York Herald noted, the White House reception was "not so largely attended as usual." Benjamin French, who was Mary's customary escort at public functions, saw that she was "disappointed." The Sewards hosted three more receptions in January 1864, accounted the "grandest," "most elegant," and "most brilliant" affairs of the season, with guest lists including barons, counts, lords, ladies, and young Robert Lincoln, home for vacation.

Mary's wounded pride increased her feelings of resentment toward Seward. She continued to begrudge the intimacy he shared with her husband, the many nights Lincoln chose to spend with Seward instead of her. Fred Seward records a pleasant evening that January when Lincoln walked over to Seward's with John Hay to share a humorous language guidebook, English as She is Spoke. "As John Hay read aloud its queer inverted sentences, Lincoln and Seward laughed heartily, their minds finding a brief but welcome relief from care." Though Seward had long since ceased to be a political threat to her husband, Mary could not relinquish her suspicions. She told their family friend Anson Henry that Seward and his friends were behind the various "scandalous reports in circulation about her." Dr. Henry dismissed her fears, saying that the nasty rumors probably originated in "the Treasury Department," for he had "traced many of them" to Chase's friends and supporters.

Indeed, by early 1864, Chase's presidential ambitions were widely known and frequently discussed in political circles. Mary's anger toward Chase grew "very bitter," Elizabeth Keckley recalled: she "warned Mr. Lincoln not to trust him," but Lincoln continued to insist that Chase was "a patriot." As Mary planned for her first state dinner of the year, traditionally held for the members of the cabinet, justices of the Supreme Court, and their families, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She perused the guest list compiled by John Nicolay, and crossed out the names of Kate Chase and William Sprague. Certain the "snub" would become public and reflect badly on Lincoln, Nicolay appealed to his boss to reinstate the Spragues. Lincoln immediately agreed, sending Mary into a rage.

"There soon arose such a rampage as the House hasn't seen for a year," Nicolay confided to an absent Hay, "and I am again taboo. How the thing is to end is yet as dark a problem as the Schleswig-Holstein difficulty." Mary directed her wrath toward Nicolay, banishing him from the dinner and eschewing his customary help with the arrangements. "Things ran on thus till the afternoon of the dinner," Nicolay reported, when Mary "backed down, requested my presence and a.s.sistance-apologizing, and explaining that the affair had worried her so she hadn't slept for a night or two."

The dinner "was pleasant," Welles recorded in his diary. "A little stiff and awkward on the part of the some of the guests [perhaps referring to Chase], but pa.s.sed off very well." Welles, however, was unable to share the capital's renewed delight in parties, receptions, and fairs. It all seemed inappropriate, "like merry-making at a funeral," he wrote his son Edgar.

Not every occasion was merely a frivolous distraction. The hosts and partygoers did not forget the imperiled men in the armed forces. Where once "the old secession or semi-secesh element" reigned in Washington society, injured soldiers and sailors became the stars of every occasion. Admiral Dahlgren's twenty-one-year-old son, Ulric, had lost a leg at Gettysburg. When he appeared at a Washington party, he was surrounded by pretty girls. They stayed by his side all night, refusing to dance, in tribute to the handsome colonel who had been known as an expert waltzer.

In late January, Copperhead congressman Fernando Wood of New York, who had often and bitterly denounced the Republican administration and the war, threw a great party to which he invited Republicans as well as fellow Democrats. Republicans were expected to stay away, but many actually attended, as did "Abolitionists of the most ultra stripe." Stoddard found it "one of the charming features of life in Washington" that "political animosities" were not carried "into social life," that people who publicly savaged one another could still be "commendably cordial and friendly in all personal intercourse."

In keeping with that tradition, Mary Lincoln sent a bouquet of flowers to Mrs. Wood. The Woods exaggerated the courtesy by placing cards that read: "Compliments of Mrs. A. Lincoln" beside all the many flower vases, making it appear that Mary had supplied the entire array. Newspapers played up the story, citing the supposedly lavish display as evidence of Mary's Southern sympathies. Stung by the criticism, Mary wrote her influential friend General Sickles: "I am pleased to announce to you my entire innocence.... With the exception of two political public receptions, they[the Woods] have not entered the [White] house-all of my, friends, who know my detestation of disloyal persons will discredit the rumor-You know me too well to believe it."

Still, slander against the president and first lady continued to fill the columns of opposition papers. In December, when Emilie Todd Helm had come through Union lines after her husband's death, she had been accompanied north by another sister, Martha Todd White. After Emilie left the White House, Lincoln issued a pa.s.s to Martha, allowing her to return to the Confederacy. Such pa.s.ses were not unusual, but the false story spread that Lincoln, presumably at his wife's request, had granted a special permit allowing Martha to bring her bags through without inspection. Some opposition papers claimed that she was, in fact, a Confederate spy and had used her privilege to smuggle contraband through Union lines. It was bruited that when she arrived at Fort Monroe and was told to open her trunks, she waved the president's permit in General Butler's face, defiantly proclaiming: "Here (pushing it under their noses) here is the positive order of your master."

Ordinarily, Lincoln took little heed of scurrilous rumors, but in this case, he directed Nicolay to ascertain the facts from General Butler. Butler replied that the smuggling story was spurious. Mrs. White's bags had undergone the usual search. Nothing untoward had been found. Nicolay used Butler's letter to doc.u.ment a public reb.u.t.tal of the fraudulent story. Butler was surprised that the White House would even bother to respond to something so "silly," but after the Wood affair had cast doubt on his wife's loyalty, Lincoln may have wanted to nip the new round of rumors in the bud. Nor did he want his soldiers to think that he would ever facilitate the Confederacy's access to contraband items that might sustain the rebel cause.

It is scarcely surprising that Lincoln not long afterward showed little patience when his old friend Orville Browning requested a favor for a loyal Unionist who owned a cotton plantation in Mississippi. When the Union Army overran her home and took her slaves, she had fallen into poverty. She asked if the government could provide her an equal number of Negroes whom she would pay to work her farm. Lincoln "became very much excited," according to Browning, and "said with great vehemence he had rather take a rope and hang himself than to do it." When Browning argued for "some sort of remuneration" for the lost property, Lincoln countered that "she had lost no property-that her slaves were free when they were taken." Puzzled by Lincoln's sharp reaction, Browning "left him in no very good humor."

As was usually the case with Lincoln's rare episodes of pique, other strains had contributed to the sharp rejoinder. Earlier that day, he had visited the sickbed of Illinois congressman Owen Lovejoy, whom he considered "the best friend [he] had in Congress." The fifty-three-year-old Lovejoy was suffering from a debilitating liver and kidney ailment that would soon take his life. Lincoln was distraught over Lovejoy's misery and seemed to internalize the grim prospects facing his friend. "This war is eating my life out," he told the dying Lovejoy. "I have a strong impression that I shall not live to see the end."

On the night of February 10, a fire alarm rang in the White House. Smoke was seen issuing from the president's private stables, which stood between the mansion and the Treasury building, and Lincoln raced to the scene. "When he reached the boxwood hedge that served as an enclosure to the stables," a member of his bodyguard, Robert McBride, recalled, "he sprang over it like a deer." Learning that the horses were still inside, Lincoln, "with his own hands burst open the stable door." It was immediately apparent that the fast-moving fire, the work of an arsonist, prevented any hope of rescue. "Notwithstanding this," McBride observed, "he would apparently have tried to enter the burning building had not those standing near caught and restrained him."

Six horses burned to death that night. When McBride returned to the White House, he found Lincoln in tears. Ten-year-old Tad "explained his father's emotion": one of the ponies had belonged to his brother, Willie. A coachman who had been fired by Mary that morning was charged with setting the fire. The following day, Lincoln had collected himself and moved forward. He called Commissioner French to his office and instructed him to consult contractors, estimate the cost, and "bring the matter to the attention of Congress to-day, if possible, that measures might be taken to have it rebuilt."

LINCOLN'S GIFT FOR MANAGING men was never more apparent than during the presidential boomlet for Chase that peaked in the winter months of 1864. While Chase's supporters prematurely showed their hand, Lincoln, according to the Pennsylvania politician Alexander McClure, "carefully veiled his keen and sometimes bitter resentment against Chase, and waited the fullness of time when he could by some fortuitous circ.u.mstance remove Chase as a compet.i.tor, or by some shrewd manipulation of politics make him a hopeless one."

The game had begun in earnest early in January. Friends of Chase, including Jay and Henry Cooke, contributed thousands of dollars to the publisher of the American Exchange and Review, a small Philadelphia magazine, so he would print a flattering biographical sketch of the treasury secretary. Chase's friend William Orton warned him that "no matter how able or 'faithful' the biography may be," its publication in a "seedy" magazine with a reputation for selling its s.p.a.ce to whomever could pay enough would be seen "as a flimsy political trick." Orton's note elicited no direct reply, but at some point the president had apparently questioned the involvement of the Cooke brothers, who were still official agents for selling government bonds. The president's questions elicited a long, emotional letter from Chase.

Chase opened his letter with the a.s.sertion that his actions, as always, proceeded from the purest of motives. He claimed he had "never, consciously & deliberately, injured one fellow man." He had been told that the publisher intended to print a series of sketches about prominent figures, starting with him. "How could I object?" Treasury business so occupied him that he had paid no further attention to the matter. "What Mr. H. D. Cooke did about the unfortunate biography was done of his own accord without any prompting from me," Chase insisted. Had Cooke or his brother sought his consent, he would have stopped them. "Not that any wrong was intended or done; but because the act was subject to misconstruction.... You will pardon me if I write as one somewhat moved. It makes me hate public life when I realize how powerless are the most faithful labors and the most upright conduct to protect any man from carping envy or malignant denunciations."

Embarra.s.sment over the circ.u.mstances surrounding the Exchange and Review piece did not stop Chase from writing twenty-five long letters that winter to the Boston writer John Trowbridge. His missives were designed to provide the foundation for a small inspirational book about his life, The Ferry-Boy and the Financier. An excerpt appeared that spring in the Atlantic Monthly. These letters were but a small part of a ma.s.sive campaign to extol his own virtues at Lincoln's expense. From early morning until late at night, Chase toiled to maintain his stream of correspondence with friends and supporters. "So far," he told a friend in Cincinnati, "I think I have made few mistakes. Indeed, on looking back over the whole ground with an earnest desire to detect error and correct it, I am not able to see where, if I had to do my work all over again, I could in any matter do materially otherwise than I have."

With Kate married and Nettie away at school, Chase resumed his sporadic correspondence with Charlotte Eastman. "I think of you constantly," he a.s.sured her, "and-if any feeling is left in me-with the sincerest affection.... How I wish you were here in our house-in this little library room-and that we could talk, instead of this writing by myself, while you are-where?" Such romantic inclinations were probably never consummated. Similarly, though he enjoyed the company of Susan Walker, an educated "bluestocking" from Cincinnati, the relationship never seemed to deepen. "I wish you could come to Washington," he wrote Miss Walker in late January, "though I could probably see so little of you that it would be difficult to tell which would be greater, the pleasure of seeing you, or the sensation of not seeing you enough." Though Chase obviously admired both Eastman and Walker, his intense focus on his ambition for the presidency kept him from ever making the time to unbend in their company.

The second push in Chase's race for the presidential nomination opened with the public announcement of a "Chase for President" committee. The committee, headed by Kansas senator Samuel Pomeroy and a successful railroad agent, James Winch.e.l.l, was another enterprise backed by Jay Cooke. In this case, however, Chase's son-in-law, William Sprague, contributed the largest share of the funds. Pomeroy and Winch.e.l.l were both committed abolitionists who believed Chase would best protect the rights of blacks. Their appearance of altruistic principle was compromised by the fact that they stood to benefit financially if Chase released funds for the construction of the Kansas-Pacific Railroad in which both held a large interest.

Lincoln's old friend Judge David Davis was incensed that Chase was "eating a man's bread and stabbing him at the same time." Chase, unsurprisingly, viewed things differently. Since one-term presidencies had become the rule, Chase felt justified in presenting himself as an alternative. While the committee was being organized, Chase busied himself lining up support in Ohio, determined to avoid the humiliation he had suffered in 1860, when his own state had withheld its support.

Optimistic that he might defeat Lincoln, Chase told his old law partner Flamen Ball that he was immensely "gratified" by the newly formed committee and the quality of the people supporting his candidacy, for they tended to be "men of great weight." Much would depend on the Buckeye State, for "if Ohio should express a preference for any other person, I would not allow my name to be used." Should all go well, Chase believed he would put up a good fight against the president, for, sad to say, the prairie lawyer was simply not up to the job. "If to his kindliness of spirit and good sense he joined strong will and energetic action, there would be little left to wish for in him. As it is, I think that he will be likely to close his first term with more honor than he will the second, should he be reelected."

Nor did Chase confine his criticisms of Lincoln to conversation and correspondence with trusted friends. Speaking with Gideon Welles early in February, he "lamented the want of energy and force by the President, which he said paralyzed everything." Disregarding Welles's silence, he went on to suggest that the president's "weakness was crushing" the nation. When Welles still "did not respond to this distinct feeler," Chase finally let the matter drop. Chase was equally indiscreet with Bates, seeming not to recognize that while the Attorney General occasionally criticized the president, he "immeasurably" preferred him to any other candidate.

Lincoln seemed unfazed by the machinations surrounding the race. Welles reported with delight an exchange with a "fair plump lady" who appeared in the hallway just before a cabinet meeting. She said she lived in Iowa and had come to get a look at the president. Hearing her story, Lincoln invited her into his office. "Well, in the matter of looking at one another," said he with a smile and a chuckle, "I have altogether the advantage."

In February, the Pomeroy Committee distributed a confidential circular to one hundred leading Republicans throughout the North. Intended to mobilize support for Chase, the circular opened with a slashing critique of the president, claiming that "even were the reelection of Mr. Lincoln desirable, it is practically impossible," given the widespread opposition. Furthermore, "should he be reelected, his manifest tendency toward compromises and temporary expedients of policy will become stronger during a second term than it has been in the first." The war would "continue to languish," the country would be bankrupted, and "the dignity of the nation" would suffer. Therefore, in order to win the war, establish the peace, and "vindicate the honor of the republic," it was essential that Republicans unite in nominating the one man with "more of the qualities needed in a President, during the next four years, than are combined in any other available candidate"-Salmon P. Chase.

When the Pomeroy circular was leaked to the press, it created a political explosion. Lincoln's friends were furious, while Democrats celebrated the open division in Republican ranks. "No sensible man here is in doubt that Chase was privy to this," David Davis told a friend. "They did not expect that it wd see the light so soon.... I wd dismiss him [from] the cabinet if it killed me."

In a state of panic, Chase sent Lincoln a letter in which he claimed he "had no knowledge" of the circular until it was printed in the Const.i.tutional Union on February 20. Though he had been approached by friends to use his name in the coming election, he had not been consulted about the formation of the Pomeroy Committee and was unfamiliar with its members. "You are not responsible for acts not your own," he reminded Lincoln, "nor will you hold me responsible except for what I do or say myself." Yet, he proclaimed, "if there is anything in my action or position which, in your judgment, will prejudice the public interest under my charge I beg you to say so. I do not wish to administer the Treasury Department one day without your entire confidence."

It is unlikely that Lincoln believed Chase's protestations of innocence. Indeed, a decade later, the circular's author, James Winch.e.l.l, testified that Chase had been fully informed about everything and had personally affirmed "that the arraignment of the Administration made in the circular was one which he thoroughly indorsed, and would sustain." Still, Lincoln restrained his anger and carefully gauged his response, taking a dispa.s.sionate view of the situation. He understood the political landscape, he a.s.sured Bates. There was a number of malcontents within his own party who "would strike him at once, if they durst; but they fear that the blow would be ineffectual, and so, they would fall under his power, as beaten enemies." So long as he remained confident that he had the public's support, he could afford to let the game play out a little longer. Keeping Chase in suspense, Lincoln simply acknowledged receipt of the letter and promised to "answer a little more fully when I can find time to do so." Then he sat back to measure the reaction of the people to the circular.

It did not take long. The morning it was printed, Welles correctly predicted: "Its recoil will be more dangerous I apprehend than its projectile. That is, it will damage Chase more than Lincoln." Even papers friendly to Chase lamented the circular's publication. "It is unworthy of the cause," the New York Times proclaimed. "We protest against the spirit of this movement." Four days later, Nicolay happily informed his fiancee, Therena, that the effect of the circular had been the opposite of what its authors intended, for "it has stirred up all Mr. Lincoln's friends to active exertion," seriously diminishing Chase's prospects. In state after state, Republicans met and pa.s.sed unanimous resolutions in favor of Lincoln's renomination. Even in Pomeroy's home state of Kansas, a counter-circular was distributed among Republicans that denounced the efforts to carry the state for Chase and rallied support for Lincoln.

Noting the "long list" of state legislatures that had come out for Lincoln, the Times acknowledged that the "universality of popular sentiment in favor of Mr. Lincoln's reelection, is one of the most remarkable developments of the time.... The faith of the people in the sound judgment and honest purpose of Mr. Lincoln is as tenacious as if it were a veritable instinct. Nothing can overcome it or seriously weaken it. This power of attracting and holding popular confidence springs only from a rare combination of qualities. Very few public men in American history have possessed it in an equal degree with Abraham Lincoln." Harper's Weekly agreed. In an editorial endorsing the president's reelection, it claimed that "among all the prominent men in our history from the beginning none have ever shown the power of understanding the popular mind so accurately as Mr. Lincoln." In moving gradually toward emanc.i.p.ation, as he had done, the Harper's editor observed, Lincoln understood that in a democracy, "every step he took must seem wise to the great public mind." Thus, he had wisely nullified the premature proclamations issued by Fremont and Hunter, waiting until "the blood of sons and brothers and friends would wash clear a thousand eyes that had been blinded." In his grudging fashion, even Lincoln's critic Count Gurowski acknowledged the president's hold on the people's affections. "The ma.s.ses are taken in by Lincoln's apparent simplicity and good-naturedness, by his awkwardness, by his vulgar jokes, and, in the people's belief, the great shifter is earnest and honest."

The fatal blow to the Chase campaign came again in Ohio, as it had four years before. Although Chase's friends in the Union caucus of the state legislature had previously blocked attempts to endorse Lincoln's reelection, the publication of the Pomeroy circular, a Chase ally conceded, "brought matters to a crisis.... It arrayed at once men agt each other who had been party friends always; & finally produced a perfect convulsion in the party." The end result was the unanimous pa.s.sage of a resolution in favor of Lincoln. "As matters now stand here, with so many states already declared for Lincoln," Chase's friend Cleveland attorney Richard Parsons warned, "prolonging a contest that will in the end array our 'house against itself,' & bring no good to our party at last, seems to me one of the gravest character."

Perceiving this turn of events, Lincoln decided the time was right to answer Chase's letter. He informed Chase that the circular had not surprised him, for he "had knowledge of Mr. Pomeroy's Committee," and of its "secret issues" and "secret agents," for a number of weeks. However, he did not intend to hold Chase responsible. "I fully concur with you that neither of us can be justly held responsible for what our respective friends may do without our instigation or countenance; and I a.s.sure you, as you have a.s.sured me, that no a.s.sault has been made upon you by my instigation, or with my countenance." As to whether Chase should remain as treasury secretary, Lincoln would decide based solely on "my judgement of the public service." For the present, he wrote, "I do not perceive occasion for a change."

A few days later, Chase withdrew his presidential bid. In a public letter to an influential state senator in Ohio, he reminded his fellow Ohioans that he had determined to withdraw from the race if he did not gain the support of his home state. With the legislature's support of Lincoln, "it becomes my duty therefore,-and I count it more a privilege than a duty,-to ask that no further consideration be given to my name."

Trying as ever to explain his action as an unselfish move, Chase told his daughter Nettie that he had withdrawn from the race, though "a good many of the best and most earnest men of the country desired to make me a candidate," because "it was becoming daily more & more clear that the continuance of my name before the people would produce serious discords in the Union organization and might endanger the success of the measures & the establishment of the principles I thought most indispensable to the welfare of the country." Attorney General Bates suggested a less patriotic explanation: "It proves only that the present prospects of Mr. Lincoln are too good to be openly resisted."

Discipline and keen insight had once again served Lincoln most effectively. By regulating his emotions and resisting the impulse to strike back at Chase when the circular first became known, he gained time for his friends to mobilize the ma.s.sive latent support for his candidacy. Chase's aspirations were crushed without Lincoln's direct intrusion. He had known all along that his treasury secretary was no innocent, but by seeming to accept Chase's word, he allowed the secretary to retain some measure of his dignity while the country retained his services in the cabinet. Lincoln himself would determine the appropriate time for Chase's departure.

LINCOLN'S ABILITY TO RETAIN his emotional balance in such difficult situations was rooted in an acute self-awareness and an enormous capacity to dispel anxiety in constructive ways. In the most difficult moments of his presidency, nothing provided Lincoln greater respite and renewal than to immerse himself in a play at either Grover's or Ford's. Leonard Grover estimated that Lincoln had visited his theater "more than a hundred times" during his four years as president. He was most frequently accompanied by Seward, who shared Lincoln's pa.s.sion for drama and was an old friend of Mr. Grover's. But his three young a.s.sistants, Nicolay, Hay, and Stoddard, also joined him on occasion, as did Noah Brooks, Mary, and Tad. On many nights, Lincoln came by himself, delighted at the chance to sink into his seat as the gaslights dimmed and the action on the stage began.

"It gave him an hour or two of freedom from care and worry," observed Brooks, "and what was better, freedom from the interruption of office-seekers and politicians. He was on such terms with the managers of two of the theaters that he could go in privately by the stage door, and slip into the stage boxes without being seen by the audience." More than anything else, Stoddard remarked how "the drama by drawing his mind into other channels of thought, afforded him the most entire relief." At a performance of Henry IV: Part One, Stoddard noted how thoroughly Lincoln enjoyed himself. "He has forgotten the war. He has forgotten Congress. He is out of politics. He is living in Prince Hal's time."