A. Lincoln_ A Biography Part 20

BY THE END OF 1861, Secretary of War Simon Cameron was proving to be the most problematic member of Lincoln's cabinet. Cameron had a dignified bearing: tall, with a high, broad forehead, abundant gray hair, and intense gray eyes. People sometimes initially regarded him as aloof but changed their minds as he proved himself a person of ability. He had succeeded in business and acc.u.mulated a fortune before entering politics and, so his critics said, turned politics into his business, where he made even more money. A man of energy and affability, he had worked with large groups of people in both of his careers, which suggested he could succeed at his admittedly large task of equipping the War Department to be the engine of a new kind of war.

Simon Cameron, former senator from Pennsylvania, served as secretary of war in the first year of the Civil War Lincoln quickly recognized that the secretary of war had been handed the most difficult task of all. He inherited a woefully small department that was expected to support a huge and growing army. In April 1861, the War Department consisted of eight bureaus staffed by about ninety employees and used out-of-date systems of record keeping. Cameron, recognizing his own shortcomings as an administrator, welcomed Secretary of the Treasury Salmon Chase's a.s.sistance. With Lincoln's blessing, it was Chase who drafted the order on May 3 enlarging the army that was sent out under Lincoln's name.

As the army grew exponentially, Cameron became a tense, perplexed executive who lost command of his own department. Disdaining the use of a clerk or secretary, Cameron seemed to run his growing department with records he kept in his head or his pockets.

Lincoln's leaders.h.i.+p style was to offer his colleagues both support and the benefit of the doubt. But by the summer of 1861, Lincoln was hearing grumblings about Cameron and his department from many quarters. He understood that Cameron had many critics for his past actions, but Lincoln was interested only in the present. The president wanted to weigh, not count, the criticism.

Lincoln took his time when it came to people. By the end of 1861, he decided not to simply fire Cameron, but to find another position for him that would save his dignity. Lincoln wrote a brief letter to Cameron on January 11, 1862, informing him that he was nominating him to be minister to Russia. The letter did not include any recognition of Cameron's service as secretary of war. Cameron, expressing his feelings to Chase, his closest cabinet colleague, said he "was quite offended, supposing the letter intended as a dismissal, and therefore discourteous." When Cameron expressed his feelings to Lincoln, he wrote a second letter, which s.h.i.+fted the initiative "to gratify your wish" and to express "my personal regard for you, and my confidence in your ability, patriotism, and fidelity to public trust."

Did Lincoln take too long to remove Cameron? The critics had been nipping at Cameron's heels since the summer. Lincoln's loyalty was a strong character trait that sometimes overrode his judgment. The president refused to discuss his criticisms of Cameron's shortcomings, and now he gave the secretary of war a second letter that could be released to the public. Cameron went to Russia, retaining a deep appreciation for Lincoln.

FOR LINCOLN, the last day of 1861, the coda to a dispiriting fall, symbolized all that was going wrong. The year ended with the central actors he was attempting to direct either unwilling or incapable of receiving direction. George McClellan, his main commander in the East, was temporarily offstage with typhoid fever. On December 31, Lincoln wired his two key commanders in the West, Henry W. Halleck and Don Carlos Buell, encouraging them to act in a "simultaneous movement" to support Unionists in Kentucky and eastern Tennessee. Halleck's reply was not encouraging. "I have never received a word from General Buell." Halleck said he was "not ready to cooperate" with Buell and that "too much haste will ruin everything."

On New Year's Eve, Lincoln received a visit from the entire Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War. The committee, not including members who were familiar with military matters, was eager to strike a blow that would win the war in one grand battle. They looked down their political noses at West Pointtrained professional soldiers. At the outset of the meeting, Ohio senator Benjamin Wade aggressively attacked General McClellan. Lincoln was placed in a difficult position. He wanted to be receptive to influential members of Congress, but he was determined to defend McClellan. As Lincoln tried to be a mediator, Wade raged, "Mr. President, you are murdering your country by inches in consequence of the inactivity of the military and the want of a distinct policy in regard to slavery." Wade had succinctly named the two problems confronting Lincoln at the beginning of 1862.

Attorney General Edward Bates, who had grown quite fond of the president, confided to his diary, "For some months past (and lately more pressingly) I have urged upon the President to have some military organization about his own person." Bates believed that if Lincoln had more and better a.s.sistants, and was better organized himself, he would be in a better position to command. "I insisted that being 'Commander in chief by law, he must must command-especially in a war as this. The Nation requires it, and History will hold him responsible." Bates went on to complain of McClellan that he "is very reticent. n.o.body knows his plans." Finally, after an unusually long entry, Bates concluded, "The Prest. is an excellent man, and in the main wise; but he lacks command-especially in a war as this. The Nation requires it, and History will hold him responsible." Bates went on to complain of McClellan that he "is very reticent. n.o.body knows his plans." Finally, after an unusually long entry, Bates concluded, "The Prest. is an excellent man, and in the main wise; but he lacks will will and and purpose, purpose, and, I greatly fear he, has not and, I greatly fear he, has not the power to command." the power to command."

THE NEW YEAR did not bring any better news. On January 6, 1862, General Halleck wrote the president explaining that because of the state of affairs in Missouri he could not comply with Lincoln's request to cooperate with Buell by ordering a force to Columbus, Kentucky. Four days later, Lincoln pa.s.sed along the letter to Cameron, writing on it, "It is exceedingly discouraging. As everything else, nothing can be done." did not bring any better news. On January 6, 1862, General Halleck wrote the president explaining that because of the state of affairs in Missouri he could not comply with Lincoln's request to cooperate with Buell by ordering a force to Columbus, Kentucky. Four days later, Lincoln pa.s.sed along the letter to Cameron, writing on it, "It is exceedingly discouraging. As everything else, nothing can be done."

On Friday morning, January 10, 1862, knowing that a recovering McClellan was carrying on business from his bed, Lincoln decided to call on the general. The mild weather of the abnormally lengthy fall of 1861 had given way to 1862's snows. The temperatures were not very cold, though, so Lincoln walked through a gloomy fog to McClellan's home. When he arrived he was told that the general could not see him.

Montgomery Meigs, a civil engineer, served as quartermaster general of the Union army. He earned Lincoln's respect for his management of the logistical necessities of equipping a huge new volunteer army A troubled Lincoln then walked to the office of Montgomery C. Meigs, quartermaster general of the army, in the brick Winder Building, which housed the headquarters of the army and navy. Lincoln pulled up a chair before the open fire.

In 1860, Meigs had been a Douglas Democrat, not a Lincoln man. Standing an inch and a half over six feet, Meigs went to Lincoln's inauguration on March 4, 1861, to hear what this new president stood for. He was surprised. As Meigs wrote to his brother, John, that evening, "I feared until last night that some weak s.h.i.+lly shally policy would prevail that we had a chief with no character a buffoon." Meigs told his brother he believed he spoke for many, for he now recognized that Lincoln's inaugural address "put into every patriotic heart new strength and hope."

Lincoln came to Meigs's office that day, as he had on a number of previous days, because he had found new strength and hope in this career West Point professional who had almost single-handedly put in place, after the disastrous summer of 1861, an extensive system of communications, purchases, and transportation to provision an army growing to a million and a half men. Lincoln was both growing in wisdom and suffering some of his most virulent criticism. In the midst of dealing with McClellan and Cameron, he appreciated the opportunity to unburden himself with a military man who talked less and acted more. Lincoln mournfully asked the trusted Meigs a question he had been asking himself for some time. "General, what shall I do? The people are impatient; Chase has no money and tells he can raise no more; the General of the Army has typhoid fever." Lincoln was despondent. "The bottom is out of the tub. What shall we do?"

Francis Carpenter's famous painting, First Reading of the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation of President Lincoln, grew out of his work in the White House in 1864, where he studied and sketched Lincoln for nearly seven months.

CHAPTER 20.

We Are Coming, Father Abraham January 1862July 1862 I EXPECT TO MAINTAIN THIS CONTEST UNTIL SUCCESSFUL, OR TILL I DIE, OR AM CONQUERED, OR MY TERM EXPIRES OR CONGRESS OR THE COUNTRY FORSAKES ME.

ABRAHAM L LINCOLN TO W WILLIAM H H. S SEWARD.

June 28, 1862 -RESIDENT LINCOLN S CHOICE FOR A NEW SECRETARY OF WAR TOOK everyone by surprise: Edwin M. Stanton, the combative lawyer who seven years earlier had scorned Lincoln at the "Reaper" trial in Cincinnati. everyone by surprise: Edwin M. Stanton, the combative lawyer who seven years earlier had scorned Lincoln at the "Reaper" trial in Cincinnati.

Lincoln does not tell us why or how he made this decision, but it may be possible to tease it out. To be sure, Stanton received several recommendations, notably from Treasury Secretary Salmon P. Chase, who had persuaded the outgoing secretary of war, Simon Cameron, to join him in doing so. True, Lincoln had already appointed Republican rivals Seward, Chase, Bates, and Cameron to the cabinet, but the choice of Stanton, a Democrat, struck political observers as even more startling. Actually, the fact that Stanton was a Democrat may have worked in his favor. By January 1862, Lincoln believed that having a Democratic Unionist in his cabinet could help him persuade other Democrats to support the war more enthusiastically. Lincoln's decision to appoint Stanton would prove to be a turning point in the prosecution of the war.

Edwin Stanton was born in 1814 in Steubenville, Ohio, and attended Kenyon College, where he was a cla.s.smate of Judge David Davis, Lincoln's legal colleague from Bloomington, Illinois. Admitted to the bar in 1836, Stanton moved to Pittsburgh in 1847, where he established an impressive reputation trying cases before the federal courts. The upwardly mobile Stanton settled in Was.h.i.+ngton in 1856 so that he could practice regularly before the Supreme Court. By the outbreak of the Civil War, Stanton earned fifty thousand dollars a year.

Outwardly successful and gifted with talent and energy, Stanton had a combative manner in pleading cases that may have been due in part to the losses he suffered as a young man, which friends say darkened his personality. His daughter Lucy died in 1841 at one and a half, and his lovely wife, Mary Lamson, died suddenly in 1844, after only seven years of marriage. For the next decade, Stanton buried his grief in his work, establis.h.i.+ng a reputation for legal skill and an obstreperous spirit. In 1856, he married Ellen Hutchinson, sixteen years younger, opening a new chapter in his life.

As an antislavery Democrat living in Was.h.i.+ngton, Stanton had watched President Buchanan stumble as secessionist drums grew noisier in the South. On December 20, 1860, the same day that the U.S. flag was lowered in South Carolina, Stanton accepted an appointment as attorney general in Buchanan's lame-duck cabinet, hoping he could make a difference in preserving the Union.

As a part of the president's inner circle, Stanton concluded that Buchanan's White House was adrift in its policy toward the South. At this critical moment of transition, Stanton reached out to Republicans behind President Buchanan's back as a way to prevent the nation from sliding into collapse. Stanton met almost daily with soon-to-be secretary of state William Seward to keep him abreast of the Buchanan administration's actions and inactions.

When Lincoln finally arrived in Was.h.i.+ngton in late February 1861, Stanton welcomed the new Republican administration, but he did not have much hope for the Lincoln he remembered from Cincinnati. He attended Lincoln's inauguration on March 4, writing to a friend the same day, "The inauguration is over and whether for good or evil Abraham Lincoln is President of the United States." Stanton would go on to watch the first year of the Lincoln administration with a critical eye.

When George McClellan came to Was.h.i.+ngton in the summer of 1861 as the savior-general, he and Edwin Stanton, both Democrats, were brought together by mutual friends. A fruitful relations.h.i.+p developed. A few days before being appointed secretary of war, Stanton met with McClellan and promised his support. McClellan, who was increasingly distancing himself from Lincoln, believed he now had an ally in the administration.

Lincoln appointed Edwin M. Stanton, the lawyer who had humiliated him in the famous "Reaper Case" in Cincinnati in 1855, to be his new secretary of war in January 1862.

Stanton made a good first impression on many people in his initial months on the job. The Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War met with him on his first day in office. Senator Benjamin Wade of Ohio wrote, "The political horizon has brightened" since Stanton had a.s.sumed his new position. Attorney General Edward Bates wrote in his diary, "The new Secy of War is a man of mind and action. He is well recd. by all." Joshua Speed, who traveled up from Kentucky to procure arms for his state, wrote Joseph Holt, the last secretary of war in the Buchanan administration, that Stanton "accomplished in a few days what heretofore would have taken as many weeks." Speed believed Stanton would "infuse into the whole army an energy & activity which we have not seen heretofore." George Templeton Strong, as treasurer of the U.S. Sanitary Commission, an agency of the government that coordinated relief efforts in army camps, traveled from New York to visit with War Department officials at the end of January. Upon meeting Stanton, Strong was impressed. He was sure Stanton was worth "a wagon load of Camerons." But Strong, who knew his way around Was.h.i.+ngton, confided to his diary, "He is the most popular man in Was.h.i.+ngton now, but will it last?"

The president was also impressed by what he saw and heard in Stan-ton's first weeks. When Lincoln wandered over to the telegraph office in the War Department in the evening, he saw that Stanton, in his private office on the second floor that overlooked the White House, worked many nights until 10 p.m. Lincoln knew that Stanton was strong-minded, and could at any moment unleash his fiery temper, but Lincoln was never defensive around people who knew more than he did and were proficient at getting the job done. Lincoln told Ma.s.sachusetts congressman Henry L. Dawes that Stanton's energy reminded him of an old Methodist preacher in the West who would become so energetic in the pulpit that a number of paris.h.i.+oners decided to put bricks in his pockets in order to hold him down. "We may be obliged to serve Stanton the same way," Lincoln drawled, "but I guess we'll just let him jump a while first."

Stanton quickly a.s.sumed total control of his department. He was everywhere, and he seemed to know everything. He would brook no interference from "Premier" Seward, who outranked him, and treated almost everyone else, including Gideon Welles, secretary of the navy, as beneath him. Treasury Secretary Chase predicted in his diary that the new secretary of war "would be master of his Department, and yield to no one save the President." The developing relations.h.i.+p between Lincoln and Stanton would become one of the most intriguing inner stories of the war.

In the first months of 1862, the president became visibly energized by Stanton's presence. He walked over to the telegraph office at the War Department more frequently. Stanton, whose honeymoon in office was quickly over because of his bearish manner that terrified many around him, treated the president with respect, even deference. Welles sized up Stanton as a person who was "fond of power and its exercise," but this quality never put Lincoln off. Lincoln had observed that Simon Cameron liked to exercise power, too, but often for his own self-aggrandizement. Lincoln saw in Stanton what many others did not. He came to admire his intellect and energy, despite what Gideon Welles called Stanton's "imperious nature," because Lincoln understood that Stanton offered enormous gifts in the service of the army and the Union.

"ALL QUIET ON THE POTOMAC" read the military news bulletins McClellan issued with monotonous predictability from his headquarters in the winter of 186162. Politicians in Was.h.i.+ngton, now that the Thirty-seventh Congress was in session, regularly derided McClellan and his announcement as nothing more than procrastination. All the while, Lincoln was waiting for General McClellan to lead his troops into battle.

On January 12, 1862, Illinois senator Orville Browning stopped by the White House. Browning sensed that Lincoln was caught up in his studies of military theory and wanted to talk at length about military strategy. He told Browning he believed the Union armies "should threaten all [the Confederate] positions at the same time with superior force, and if they weakened one to strengthen another seize and hold the one weakened." Discouraged with his generals, Lincoln told Browning he "was thinking of taking the field himself."

Finally, Lincoln could wait no longer. On January 27, 1862, he issued the President's General Order Number One. He ordered army and navy forces to prepare to move by February 22 against "the insurgent forces." This order, which Lincoln talked through with his new secretary of war, was a bold and curious doc.u.ment. Why February 22? Lincoln never said, but the president, with a penchant for precedents, probably chose it because it was George Was.h.i.+ngton's birthday. Lincoln's order was ridiculed by his detractors in Congress for its grand simplicity, but no one could miss its larger point-as commander in chief he was ordering McClellan to prepare to march in less than one month.

Four days later, Lincoln followed up his take-charge posture by issuing the President's Special War Order Number One. This brief order demonstrated Lincoln's ability to perform a political high-wire act. On the one hand, Lincoln stated that an "immediate object" should be the "seizing and occupying" of Mana.s.sas Junction. At the same time, he deferred "all details to be in the discretion of the general-in-chief." He concluded this second order insisting, once again, that the expedition should move "before, or on, the 22nd of February next."

This time, General McClellan rushed to the White House to object. He asked the president if he could present an alternative plan to Secretary of War Stanton. Lincoln accepted, probably believing that he might at last be able to coax from McClellan an actual battle plan in writing. On February 3, 1862, McClellan presented Stanton a detailed twenty-two-page report that included both his plan and his objections to the president's.

McClellan's plan called for transporting troops by water down the Potomac River and the Chesapeake Bay to little Urbana, Virginia, a tobacco port on the south side of the Rappahannock River. From this base he would advance the nearly sixty miles to Richmond. McClellan's intention was to draw the Confederate forces under Joseph Johnston away from a defensive line around Mana.s.sas in a march to protect Richmond. McClellan wrote that his advance "affords the shortest possible land routes to Richmond, & strikes directly at the heart of the enemy's power in the East." With Richmond won, McClellan envisioned a large circle under Union command, from Ambrose Burnside in North Carolina to Don Carlos Buell in Tennessee to Henry Halleck on the Mississippi.

McClellan's Urbana plan had its merits. He believed he could seize the advantage by fighting on the ground of his choosing while using the Union superiority in naval forces. McClellan concluded with a plea and a resolve. "I will stake my life, my reputation on the result-more than that, I will stake upon it the success of our cause."

The plan did not persuade Lincoln. Even if McClellan began his advance in February, the president worried there would be long delays before marching on the Confederate forces. Lincoln also expressed concern that McClellan's plan would leave Was.h.i.+ngton vulnerable to attack from what he now believed were very capable Southern military leaders.

Lincoln asked five tough questions of McClellan, including, "Does not your plan involve a greatly larger expenditure of time, time, and and money money than mine?" Lincoln also posed, "In case of disaster, would not a safe retreat be more difficult by your plan than by mine?" Although addressed to McClellan, Lincoln's questions were as much to himself, as he worked in his typical logical way to discern the way forward. He told McClellan, "If you will give me satisfactory answers to the following questions, I shall gladly yield my plan to yours." than mine?" Lincoln also posed, "In case of disaster, would not a safe retreat be more difficult by your plan than by mine?" Although addressed to McClellan, Lincoln's questions were as much to himself, as he worked in his typical logical way to discern the way forward. He told McClellan, "If you will give me satisfactory answers to the following questions, I shall gladly yield my plan to yours."

Lincoln, as commander in chief, in the back-and-forth relations.h.i.+p with his top general, found himself honing the foundations of his evolving military strategy. First, he believed the Confederate armies, not Richmond or any other fixed place, should be his most important military target. Second, he increasingly recognized the risk of overstretched supply lines. And third, he wanted to avoid leaving Was.h.i.+ngton vulnerable to attack.

In the end, Lincoln signed off on McClellan's plans despite his deep reservations. His respect for professional officers still outweighed Lincoln's growing knowledge about military strategy.

WITH MCCLELLAN'S ARMY of the Potomac still confined to its winter bases in February, Lincoln received some good news from Kentucky. On January 19, 1862, Don Carlos Buell, responding to the president's urgent call for action, dispatched General George H. Thomas, a Virginian loyal to the Union, on a risky mission in eastern Kentucky. Thomas, a large, imposing man who expected steeled discipline from his troops, led four thousand men over treacherous, trackless mountains in winter sleet to achieve a victory at Mill Springs, Kentucky. of the Potomac still confined to its winter bases in February, Lincoln received some good news from Kentucky. On January 19, 1862, Don Carlos Buell, responding to the president's urgent call for action, dispatched General George H. Thomas, a Virginian loyal to the Union, on a risky mission in eastern Kentucky. Thomas, a large, imposing man who expected steeled discipline from his troops, led four thousand men over treacherous, trackless mountains in winter sleet to achieve a victory at Mill Springs, Kentucky.

This Currier and Ives print depicts the bombardment and capture of Fort Henry and the heroic work of federal gunboats under command of Commodore Andrew H. Foote.

Lincoln, with his eye turned toward the West, with which he was familiar, began monitoring the movements of General Ulysses S. Grant. On February 4, 1862, Grant attacked Fort Henry, a Confederate earthen fort eighty miles up the Tennessee River from the Union headquarters at Paducah, Kentucky, believing that the fort was the weak point in the Confederacy's line. It was exactly the strategy Lincoln had commended to Browning three weeks earlier. Grant approached Fort Henry from two sides. Supported by Commodore Andrew H. Foote's four ironclad and three wooden gunboats, Grant won a decisive victory on February 6, 1862, dealing the Confederates their first significant defeat of the war.

Some of the Confederates defending Fort Henry retreated to Fort Donelson on the c.u.mberland River, which became Grant's next objective. General Don Carlos Buell warned that Grant was about to take on a much larger force and should retire after his initial victory. In addition, Buell could send no reinforcements. No matter. Grant, unlike so many other commanders that Lincoln had come to know, never hollered for reinforcements. Instead, he marched his men twelve miles overland and prepared to attack. On February 14, 1862, Foote's gunboats arrived on the c.u.mberland and began lobbing "iron valentines" at Fort Donelson. Within a short time, however, the Confederate heavy artillery punished Foote's boats, gaining the upper hand. When word came by telegram to the War Department that Foote's boats were absorbing a vicious battering, many were quick to say, "I told you so." Stanton confessed his worry.

Lincoln and the military leaders in Was.h.i.+ngton knew little about Grant. Refusing to be beaten, Grant pushed on in bitter weather, finally taking Fort Donelson on February 17, 1862, with this famous remark: "No terms except complete and unconditional surrender can be accepted." The Confederates accepted. Grant marched away with thirteen thousand prisoners, giving the Union a second strategic victory in the western theater in less than two weeks.

When Stanton read the "unconditional surrender" dispatch, the secretary of war led three cheers for General Grant. A clerk in Stanton's office recalled that the cheers "shook the old walls, broke the spider's webs, and set the rats scampering." All around Was.h.i.+ngton, church bells rang and cannons fired.

Grant became an instant hero. Throughout his native Midwest, people started to call him "Unconditional Surrender" Grant. Newspaper stories of Grant at Fort Donelson, chomping on a cigar, prompted grateful citizens to send him hundreds of boxes of cigars. Grant, who began the war smoking his meerschaum pipe, switched full-time to ci gars.

Grateful for these victories, Lincoln promptly promoted Grant to major general, second in command only to Halleck in the entire American West.

DURING THE WINTER OF 1862, as Abraham Lincoln worried over his military leaders.h.i.+p, his sons Willie and Tad played a game of counting sunny days while stuck inside the White House. Willie had recently received a pony, and despite Was.h.i.+ngton's cold, wet, and mushy weather, insisted on riding his new horse. Either from exposure or from one of the frequent infections caused by unsanitary Was.h.i.+ngton conditions, Willie became sick with what was called "bilious fever," a catchall term that could cover a mult.i.tude of illnesses. By the end of January, Willie's condition improved and worsened with frustrating irregularity. His mother frequently stayed up with him all night.

Willie Lincoln, the third Lincoln son, was a happy, studious, religious boy who enthralled both children and adults.

On February 5, 1862, while Grant was engaged in the battle at Fort Henry, the Lincolns hosted an evening reception at the White House that would turn into a nightmare. Continuing to face unfavorable comparisons to Buchanan's stylish niece Harriet Lane, the original First Lady, Mary had planned this party as a model of fine elegance. Frank Leslie's Ill.u.s.trated Newspaper Frank Leslie's Ill.u.s.trated Newspaper congratulated her for initiating "a social innovation." Heretofore, social events at the White House had either been "state dinners" for the few or a "reception" for the uncontrolled many. Mary Lincoln's event was for a select five hundred guests. The Lincolns' oldest son, Robert, was home from Harvard and stood proudly beside his parents receiving guests in the East Room. Throughout the evening, the marine band "discoursed sweet music," including the new "Mary Lincoln Polka." Mary wore a new dress, jewels, and a headdress of black and white c.r.a.pe myrtle. congratulated her for initiating "a social innovation." Heretofore, social events at the White House had either been "state dinners" for the few or a "reception" for the uncontrolled many. Mary Lincoln's event was for a select five hundred guests. The Lincolns' oldest son, Robert, was home from Harvard and stood proudly beside his parents receiving guests in the East Room. Throughout the evening, the marine band "discoursed sweet music," including the new "Mary Lincoln Polka." Mary wore a new dress, jewels, and a headdress of black and white c.r.a.pe myrtle.

Sadly, Abraham and Mary could not enjoy the evening. During the day, Willie's condition had suddenly worsened. Tad also became ill. First mother, then father left the party, ascending the central staircase to care for Willie, who was burning up with fever.

The party's crowning moment occurred at 11:30 p.m. when servants unveiled beautiful tables of food and pastries prepared by Milliards, an upscale New York caterer. Models of a Union wars.h.i.+p and Fort Pickens were depicted in confectioners' art. Dinner lasted until 3 a.m. Leslie's Ill.u.s.trated Leslie's Ill.u.s.trated p.r.o.nounced the party "a complete success," but guests never knew the anxiety upstairs. p.r.o.nounced the party "a complete success," but guests never knew the anxiety upstairs.

A week later, on Abraham Lincoln's fifty-third birthday, newspapers reported that Willie was recovering and out of danger. But his condition quickly became worse again. Willie asked to see his close friend, Horatio Nelson "Bud" Taft, Jr., who had "been to see him or to enquire about him almost every day," and could always cheer him up.

Mary now stayed beside him day and night.

On Thursday, February 20, 1862, at 5 p.m., Willie Lincoln died. Mary crumpled in a seizure of sobbing. Lizzie Keckley, her African-American seamstress, whose compa.s.sion for Mary had become a healing balm in these difficult months, gently led her away.

Only three days after celebrating Grant's second victory in the West, Lincoln was overcome by grief. He spoke softly. "My poor boy. He was too good for this earth ... but then we loved him so." He walked down the hall to his secretary's office, and "choking with emotion," said, "Well, Nicolay, my boy is gone-actually gone!" Lincoln, "bursting into tears, turned, and went into his own office."

Attorney General Bates wrote in his diary that evening, "A fine boy of 11 years, too much idolized by his parents." The dark cloud of mourning that descended on the White House in February 1862 would never really lift for Mary Lincoln.

The service for Willie Lincoln was held in the East Room on February 24, 1862, at 2 p.m. Phineas Gurley, minister of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, conducted the service. Gurley brought a message of consolation and hope. He began by identifying with the grief of the parents over the death of a young child. He then spoke words of comfort. "It is well for us, and very comforting on such an occasion as this, to get a clear and scriptural view of the providence of G.o.d."

Gurley was a preacher who antic.i.p.ated questions in his sermons. In this funeral oration, he addressed the delicate balance between free will and determinism. He told the grieving Abraham and Mary seated before him that sometimes providence appeared as "a mysterious dealing." Gurley's final counsel was to "acknowledge His hand, and hear His voice, and inquire after His will."

Gurley offered Lincoln pastoral care at one of the darkest moments in his life. In less than a year, Lincoln had experienced the death of the charming young Elmer Ellsworth, his close Illinois friend Edward Baker, and now his son.

When the pallbearers carried the casket from the White House, they were followed by a group of children, members of Willie's Sunday school cla.s.s. Departing the White House, Lincoln rode in a carriage drawn by two black horses, accompanied by his oldest son, Robert, and his Illinois friends Senators Browning and Trumbull, in a procession to the Oak Hill Cemetery in Georgetown.

Life for Tad was now profoundly different without his older brother Willie, who had been his constant companion. He also lost their close friends Bud and Holly Taft. At the time of the funeral, Mary Lincoln wrote to Mary Taft, "Please keep the boys home the day of the funeral; it makes me feel worse to see them." Because the Taft boys reminded her of Willie, they were never again invited to the White House, leaving Tad even more alone.

Mary simply could not deal with the death of a second son. Eddie Lincoln had died at three and a half in 1850. Although extreme public mourning was a custom of the day, the death of Willie left Mary inconsolable. She never again entered the room where he died. She sought to remove from the White House everything and everyone that could remind her of Willie. Her husband felt the loss of his son deeply, too, but as president he knew he had to resume his leaders.h.i.+p of a deeply wounded nation. As Lincoln increasingly found himself comfortable with cabinet members William Seward, Edwin Stanton, Gideon Welles, and a few other trusted colleagues, he was less available for the often-painful task of helping Mary cope with her grief.

In the wake of Willie's death, Lincoln forged a new relations.h.i.+p with Tad. He became the boy's chief companion. Tad and Willie had often slept together, but now Tad wanted to sleep with his father. The young Tad would be present at official meetings, sometimes sitting in Lincoln's lap or even perching on his shoulder, to the consternation of some of the president's guests. The hardworking president kept late hours at his desk, and often near midnight, when he had finished his last correspondence or signed his last order, Lincoln would pick up his small son from under the desk or in front of the fireplace and carry him off to bed.

Abraham Lincoln forged a new, special relations.h.i.+p with Tad, the fourth Lincoln son.

ON MANY EVENINGS, Lincoln would amble across the street to Secretary of State Seward's redbrick three-story mansion on Lafayette Square just north and east of the White House. Living with Seward in Was.h.i.+ngton was his son, Frederick, and daughter-in-law Anna, who frequently served as hostess because Seward's wife, Frances, preferred to stay in their home in Auburn, New York.

After working with him for almost a year, Lincoln had grown to appreciate the company of the intellectual and witty Seward, a conversationalist with a thousand stories. To the other members of Lincoln's cabinet, and many in Was.h.i.+ngton, Lincoln and Seward were an odd couple. As the two men lounged in Seward's library, the secretary of state would take pleasure in his Havana cigars, while Lincoln did not smoke; Seward enjoyed vintage wines and brandy, while Lincoln did not drink; Seward was known for his colorful language, whereas Lincoln almost never swore. One day, Lincoln and Seward were on their way to review troops near Arlington. Traveling in an ambulance drawn by four mules over rutted roads, the driver, losing control of his team, began to swear. As the roads became even rougher, the swearing increased. At last Lincoln spoke up. "Driver, my friend, are you an Episcopalian?"

"No, Mr. President, I ain't much of anything; but if I go to church at all, I go to the Methodist Church."

"Oh, excuse me," Lincoln replied, "I thought you must be an Episcopalian for you swear just like Secretary Seward, and he's a churchwarden."

Lincoln enjoyed Seward because they could talk openly about many subjects besides the war. With portraits of George Was.h.i.+ngton, Andrew Jackson, and Daniel Webster arrayed on the walls of Seward's residence, their conversations turned regularly to the merits of American leaders. Lincoln had idolized Was.h.i.+ngton as a youth and still revered the nation's first president. He had joined in the Whig excoriation of Jackson as a young man, but with the hindsight of age, and the different chair in which he now sat, Lincoln had come to appreciate Old Hickory. In a conversation about Jackson, the two men discussed how to manage the delicate balance of presidential power. Lincoln had long admired Webster for his eloquent enunciation of American political ideals; he often used Webster's speeches as models for his own. In the course of another conversation, Seward argued that the reputations of neither Clay nor Webster would live "a t.i.the as long" as that of John Quincy Adams. Lincoln disagreed. He stated that he thought Webster "would be read forever."

Mary became resentful of the time her husband spent with Seward. She still held a grudge against him for the Republican nomination fight in 1860. Even after Seward joined her husband's administration, Mary derided him as that "hypocrite," and a "dirty abolition sneak." After almost a year in the White House, Mary saw her role as confidant and counselor being eclipsed by Seward at the very time she needed her husband more than ever.

LINCOLN'S IMPATIENCE WITH General McClellan increased as February turned into March. The Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War had been complaining about McClellan's lack of response to the Confederate control of the Potomac both above and below Was.h.i.+ngton. At last McClellan decided to break this grip by sending a Union detachment to the upper Potomac to reopen the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad link to the West. In order to cross the Potomac to rebuild a strategic bridge at Harpers Ferry, McClellan had arranged to bring ca.n.a.l boats up the Chesapeake and Ohio Ca.n.a.l, which paralleled the Potomac River. These boats would serve as platforms for the timbers to build the bridge. Just as they were about to travel from the ca.n.a.l into the river, sailors discovered the boats were six inches too wide to pa.s.s through the lock. General McClellan increased as February turned into March. The Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War had been complaining about McClellan's lack of response to the Confederate control of the Potomac both above and below Was.h.i.+ngton. At last McClellan decided to break this grip by sending a Union detachment to the upper Potomac to reopen the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad link to the West. In order to cross the Potomac to rebuild a strategic bridge at Harpers Ferry, McClellan had arranged to bring ca.n.a.l boats up the Chesapeake and Ohio Ca.n.a.l, which paralleled the Potomac River. These boats would serve as platforms for the timbers to build the bridge. Just as they were about to travel from the ca.n.a.l into the river, sailors discovered the boats were six inches too wide to pa.s.s through the lock.

When McClellan, who had a reputation as an excellent planner, sent this bad news to Stanton, the secretary of war hurried over to tell Lincoln at the White House. After locking the door, Stanton read to Lincoln two dispatches from McClellan. Exasperated, Lincoln inquired, "What does this mean?" Stanton replied, "It means it is a d.a.m.ned fizzle. It means he does not intend to do anything."

Lincoln, "dejected," sent for Randolph Marcy, McClellan's chief of staff and father-in-law. As Lincoln paced the floor of his office, he may well have thought back to his days on the Eighth Judicial Circuit when he delighted in examining new farm machinery. Always a stickler for quality, Lincoln would lie down under a new machine to "sight" it, to see if it was straight or warped. With Nicolay present, he now asked Marcy, "Why in the--nation, Gen. Marcy, couldn't the Gen. have known whether a boat would go through that lock before spending a million dollars getting them there? I am no engineer, but it seems to me that if I wished to know whether a boat would go through a hole or a lock, common sense would teach me to go and measure it." Lincoln concluded his remarks by summing up his feelings about more than ca.n.a.l boats. "Everything seems to fail. The general impression is daily gaining ground that the General does not intend to do anything. By a failure like this we lose all the prestige we gained by the capture of Fort Donelson. I am grievously disappointed-almost in despair."

Lincoln met with members of the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War on the evening of March 3, 1862. Senators Benjamin Wade of Ohio and Zachariah Chandler of Michigan informed Lincoln that reports were circulating that McClellan was secretly in sympathy, if not in league, with the Confederates. This was not news to the president, who held one of these letters accusing McClellan of treason in his vest pocket. McClellan had made no secret of his dislike for abolitionists and radical Republicans who wished to destroy slavery. The meeting quickly degenerated into a heated exchange between the committee and the president about removing McClellan. Lincoln asked Senator Wade if McClellan were to be removed, who would replace him? "Well, anybody!" Wade cried out. "Wade," Lincoln replied, "anybody will do for you, but I must have somebody."

The committee actually had two candidates in mind. They were divided in their opinion between Irvin McDowell and John C. Fre-mont. Lincoln believed that both of these generals had lost standing with the public by their respective failures at Bull Run and in Missouri. He did agree, however, when the committee recommended that the army modify its command structure to encompa.s.s four corps, each with three divisions. Although the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War was made up of a bunch of military amateurs, Lincoln knew that the professional army in early 1862, far larger than any previous army in America, had become too large to be commanded by one person. The meeting ended inconclusively. Lincoln was not about to be told what to do by a congressional committee, but, in truth, he, too, was also thinking about changing generals.

At half past seven on the morning of March 7, 1862, Lincoln met with McClellan at the White House. After speaking to him about the fiasco with the boats in the ca.n.a.l, he reiterated his concerns about the Urbana plan, which McClellan had yet to implement. The real purpose of Lincoln's summons was to tell McClellan, more than two weeks after his February 22 deadline, that it was time to start his march to Richmond. He also spoke to McClellan about what he called "an ugly matter." The president told McClellan that some members of Congress believed that the lengthened march of the Urbana plan was actually a strategy of "giving over to the enemy the capital and the government, thus left defenseless." McClellan, who had been seated, rose and demanded that the president retract such charges. Lincoln, "much agitated," disclaimed that these were not his ideas and said "he did not believe a word of it."

To set Lincoln's mind at ease, McClellan said he had convened a meeting with his generals to review the options between his Urbana plan and Lincoln's plan to march on Mana.s.sas. McClellan, a politician as well as a general, already knew what the result of the discussion would be. His generals voted in favor of his plan 8 to 4, with most of the eight being junior officers appointed by McClellan himself.

Subsequently, the generals reconvened at the White House at the president's request. Lincoln listened to the account of their meeting and their decision. He told the a.s.sembled military group that since he was not a military man he would respect the opinion of the majority. He advised Secretary of War Stanton, "We can do nothing else but accept their plan."

Out of respect for the military, Lincoln once again went against his better judgment. But not completely. Without consulting McClellan, on the next day he issued two orders. First, Lincoln commanded that the army be reorganized into four corps with twelve divisions. He appointed four senior generals to lead the new corps. Second, he approved the Urbana plan on the condition that McClellan agree to place "in, and about Was.h.i.+ngton," a force that would leave the capital "entirely secure." McClellan was furious with the first order. He did not disagree with the concept, but he wanted to handpick his own men.

The next day, March 9, 1862, after all of the debates about Richmond or Mana.s.sas, news came that Confederate general Joseph Johnston had evacuated his lines around Mana.s.sas and had taken up new defensive positions behind the Rappahannock River. By s.h.i.+fting his line farther to the south, he was now near the position at Urbana where McClellan had intended to begin his advance to Richmond.

In a show of bravado, McClellan immediately dispatched some of his troops south to Mana.s.sas, accompanied by a collection of newspaper reporters. Everyone was astounded by what they found. The configuration of the Confederate defenses had s.p.a.ce for at most fifty thousand men, only half of the one hundred thousand troops McClellan had long insisted would face him. They also found that some of the enemy artillery were nothing more than painted black logs-"Quaker guns." These simple black logs had effectively deceived McClellan's intelligence service for months. The findings made McClellan look foolish. Never again, so Lincoln and Stanton agreed, would they accept his estimates of the strength of the opposition.

George McClellan finally began to march his army on March 17, 1862. By the beginning of April, a remarkable sight was taking shape at the upper end of the Virginia peninsula. Near the towns of Hampton and Old Point Comfort, baggage wagons, artillery, and shelter tents arrived daily. On Chesapeake Bay, a ma.s.sive armada of 405 side-wheel steamers, propeller-driven steamers, brigs, and barges was a.s.sembling. The s.h.i.+ps ferried thousands of supply wagons and hundreds of ambulances. The armies and navies who fought on this same peninsula eighty years before at the battle for Yorktown in the Revolutionary War would have been amazed at the preparation for a military operation far larger than anything ever seen on the American continent. General George B. McClellan was slowly bringing into formation one hundred thousand soldiers for the long-awaited attack on Richmond.

McClellan came to the White House on March 31, 1862, to bid good-bye to the president, but really to seek his approval after so much acrimony between them. The next day, McClellan informed the War Department that he was complying with the president's injunction to ensure that Was.h.i.+ngton was protected by leaving behind 19,000 troops, augmented by 7,800 at Harpers Ferry and Irvin McDowell's 30,000 troops in the nearby Shenandoah Valley. Lincoln was aghast. He believed the force was too few and too raw and most of them too distant from the capital. On April 3, Lincoln told Stanton he wanted McDowell's corps, slated to join the march to Richmond, to stay behind to protect Was.h.i.+ngton.

McClellan's plan to lay siege to Richmond was patterned after the siege of Sevastopol in the final battle of the Crimean War in 1855. Just as England and France brought to bear their industrial might on the Rus sian fortress, he would bring the industrial might of the Union army, including naval power and heavy artillery, to defeat the Confederates in the fortified city.

McClellan's forces advanced with little opposition until they approached Yorktown. Along the march he had encountered an elaborate network of trenches, which convinced him he was facing a large enemy force. The visible maneuvers of Confederate major general John B. Magruder's troops near Yorktown further alarmed McClellan. The Young Napoleon, believing he was outnumbered, decided to dig in and bring up his enormous guns for an a.s.sault.

Lincoln, now visiting the War Department telegraph office at all hours of the day and night, attempted to encourage McClellan to move forward. He wired on April 6, 1862, "You now have over one hundred thousand troops. ... I think you better break the enemy's line from the York-town to the Warwick River at once." The president, gaining in military knowledge, told McClellan, "They will probably use time time as advantageously as you can." as advantageously as you can."

McClellan was piqued. He fired off a telegram to Lincoln with the usual litany of complaints-he was outnumbered and the president and Stanton had failed to supply him with enough troops. McClellan later wrote his wife, "I was much tempted to reply that he had better come and do it himself."

Lincoln, not about to be put off by McClellan, raised his own ongoing concern. "After you left, I ascertained that less than twenty thousand unorganized men, without a single field battery, were all that you designed to be left for the defense of Was.h.i.+ngton, and Mana.s.sas Junction." McClellan believed his march to Richmond was the best prevention of an attack on Was.h.i.+ngton. Lincoln's worry was that, while McClellan was leading his large Union army slowly up the Virginia peninsula to capture a well-defended Richmond, the Confederates could, with a relatively small army, march quickly to capture a thinly defended Was.h.i.+ngton.

Lincoln and Stanton were so furious with McClellan's dithering that they offered the command of the Army of the Potomac to Ethan Allen Hitchc.o.c.k, grandson of Revolutionary War hero Ethan Allen. Hitchc.o.c.k, a curious character with a philosophical mind (he read Immanuel Kant's Critique of Pure Reason Critique of Pure Reason in German) had become Stanton's adviser in February. Now the president and the secretary of war asked him to a.s.sume command of the Army of the Potomac. He said he was too old, nearly sixty-four, and turned them down. in German) had become Stanton's adviser in February. Now the president and the secretary of war asked him to a.s.sume command of the Army of the Potomac. He said he was too old, nearly sixty-four, and turned them down.

By early May, McClellan finally said he was ready to attack York-town with his heavy guns. Vastly overemphasizing the size of the enemy before him, which probably was only eleven thousand when he first approached Yorktown, his dawdling had allowed the Confederates to concentrate their defense. Lincoln wrote to McClellan, "Your call for Parrott guns from Was.h.i.+ngton alarms me, chiefly because it argues indefinite procrastination. Is anything to be done?"

McClellan now received a surprise. As he prepared to attack with his guns, to be followed by an infantry a.s.sault, Confederate general Joseph Johnston, under the cover of darkness on the night of May 3, 1862, executed a strategic retreat with his troops to help defend Richmond. Just like at Mana.s.sas, the overly cautious McClellan found no one to fight. The South laughed that he had been tricked again. The North was not laughing.

On May 6, 1862, Lincoln, with Stanton and Treasury Secretary Chase at his side, decided to travel to Fortress Monroe to discover for himself exactly what General McClellan was or was not doing.

Two months before, a Confederate ironclad s.h.i.+p, the CSS Virginia, Virginia, had steamed down the Elizabeth River into Hampton Roads to attack the wooden-sided Union s.h.i.+ps set up there. The had steamed down the Elizabeth River into Hampton Roads to attack the wooden-sided Union s.h.i.+ps set up there. The Virginia Virginia had rammed and sunk the twenty-four-gun USS had rammed and sunk the twenty-four-gun USS c.u.mberland c.u.mberland and then fired on the fifty-gun frigate USS and then fired on the fifty-gun frigate USS Congress. Congress. The next day, the Union ironclad USS The next day, the Union ironclad USS Monitor Monitor arrived on the scene. The two slow-moving s.h.i.+ps could not damage each other. The dramatic encounter proved in two days the superiority of iron over wood. When Lincoln arrived, the arrived on the scene. The two slow-moving s.h.i.+ps could not damage each other. The dramatic encounter proved in two days the superiority of iron over wood. When Lincoln arrived, the Virginia Virginia was still lurking inside the Norfolk harbor. When Lincoln discovered the general had still done nothing to remove the was still lurking inside the Norfolk harbor. When Lincoln discovered the general had still done nothing to remove the Virginia, Virginia, he threw his hat to the ground. he threw his hat to the ground.