CHAPTER XI.

THE TRUE HISTORY OF THE GETTYSBURG SPEECH.

Among the many historic scenes in which President Lincoln was an actor there is not one, perhaps, where a single incident gave rise to speculations so groundless and guesses so wide of the truth as his justly celebrated Gettysburg speech.[H] Since his death there has been an enormous expenditure, not to say a very great waste, of literary talent on that extraordinary address, as there has been on almost everything else he did, or was supposed to have done, from his boyhood until the moment of his a.s.sa.s.sination. That reporters, critics, chroniclers, eulogists, flatterers, and biographers have not only failed to give a true account of that famous speech, but that they have subjected Mr. Lincoln's memory to hurtful misrepresentation, it is the purpose of this chapter to show.

[H] Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this Continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so n.o.bly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under G.o.d, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

It was my good fortune to have known Mr. Lincoln long and well,--so long and so intimately that as the shadows lengthen and the years recede I am more and more impressed by the rugged grandeur and n.o.bility of his character, his strength of intellect, and his singular purity of heart.

Surely I am the last man on earth to say or do aught in derogation of his matchless worth, or to tarnish the fair fame of him who was, during eighteen of the most eventful years of my life, a constant, considerate, and never-failing friend.

The world has long since conceded that Abraham Lincoln was great in all the elements that go to make up human greatness. He had a stamp of originality entirely his own. With his unique individuality and his commanding intellect--at once strong, sagacious, and profoundly acute and critical--were a.s.sociated a mental integrity and a moral purpose as firm as granite, a thorough knowledge of himself, and a modesty that scorned not only self-laudation but eulogy by others for fame or achievements not his own. An act accomplished by him, either in his character of a citizen or as a public servant, he regarded more as a duty discharged than as an achievement of which to be proud. He was charitable to a fault; and yet no man ever discriminated more narrowly in forming a judgment concerning the character, the acts, and the motives of other men, or had a keener appreciation of merit or demerit in others. With his characteristic honesty and simplicity we may well suppose, that, were he alive to-day, he would feel under little obligation to the swarm of fulsome eulogists who have made up a large part of the current chronicles of his life and public conduct by ascribing to him ornamental virtues which he never possessed, and motives, purposes, and achievements which he would promptly disown if he could now speak for himself.

Discriminating observers and students of history have not failed to note the fact that the ceremony of Mr. Lincoln's apotheosis was not only planned but executed by men who were unfriendly to him while he lived, and that the deification took place with showy magnificence some time after the great man's lips were sealed in death. Men who had exhausted the resources of their skill and ingenuity in venomous detraction of the living Lincoln, especially during the last years of his life, were the first, when the a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet had closed the career of the great-hearted statesman, to undertake the self-imposed task of guarding his memory,--not as a human being endowed with a mighty intellect and extraordinary virtues, but as a G.o.d. In fact, the tragic death of Mr.

Lincoln brought a more fearful panic to his former traducers than to his friends. The latter's legacy was deep sorrow and mourning; the former were left to the humiliating necessity of a change of base to place themselves _en rapport_ with the millions who mourned the loss of their greatest patriot and statesman.

If there was one form of flattery more offensive to the n.o.ble and manly pride of Mr. Lincoln than all others, it was that in which credit was given him for a meritorious deed done by some other man, or which ascribed to him some sentimental or saintly virtue that he knew he did not possess. In the same spirit he rejected all commendations or flattering compliments touching anything which he had written or spoken, when, in his own judgment, there was nothing especially remarkable in the speech or the composition referred to. Although superior, I readily concede, to any other man I have ever known, Mr. Lincoln was yet thoroughly human; and with his exact knowledge of his own character,--its weakness and its strength,--he once said to me, speaking of what historians and biographers might say of him, "Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice." He had a clear perception of the value of that history which is truthful; and he believed that hosannas sung to the memory of the greatest of men, as if they were demi-G.o.ds, are hurtful to their fame.

A day or two before the dedication of the National Cemetery at Gettysburg, Mr. Lincoln told me that he would be expected to make a speech on the occasion; that he was extremely busy, and had no time for preparation; and that he greatly feared he would not be able to acquit himself with credit, much less to fill the measure of public expectation. From his hat (the usual receptacle for his private notes and memoranda) he drew a sheet of foolscap, one side of which was closely written with what he informed me was a memorandum of his intended address. This he read to me, first remarking that it was not at all satisfactory to him. It proved to be in substance, if not in exact words, what was afterwards printed as his famous Gettysburg speech.

After its delivery on the day of commemoration, he expressed deep regret that he had not prepared it with greater care. He said to me on the stand, immediately after concluding the speech: "Lamon, that speech won't _scour_! It is a flat failure, and the people are disappointed."

(The word "scour" he often used in expressing his positive conviction that a thing lacked merit, or would not stand the test of close criticism or the wear of time.) He seemed deeply concerned about what the people might think of his address; more deeply, in fact, than I had ever seen him on any public occasion. His frank and regretful condemnation of his effort, and more especially his manner of expressing that regret, struck me as somewhat remarkable; and my own impression was deepened by the fact that the orator of the day, Mr. Everett, and Secretary Seward both coincided with Mr. Lincoln in his unfavorable view of its merits.

The occasion was solemn, impressive, and grandly historic. The people, it is true, stood apparently spell-bound; and the vast throng was hushed and awed into profound silence while Mr. Lincoln delivered his brief speech. But it seemed to him that this silence and attention to his words arose more from the solemnity of the ceremonies and the awful scenes which gave rise to them, than from anything he had said. He believed that the speech was a failure. He thought so at the time, and he never referred to it afterwards, in conversation with me, without some expression of unqualified regret that he had not made the speech better in every way.

On the platform from which Mr. Lincoln delivered his address, and only a moment after it was concluded, Mr. Seward turned to Mr. Everett and asked him what he thought of the President's speech. Mr. Everett replied, "It is not what I expected from him. I am disappointed." Then in his turn Mr. Everett asked, "What do you think of it, Mr. Seward?"

The response was, "He has made a failure, and I am sorry for it. His speech is not equal to him." Mr. Seward then turned to me and asked, "Mr. Marshal, what do you think of it?" I answered, "I am sorry to say that it does not impress me as one of his great speeches."

In the face of these facts it has been repeatedly published that this speech was received by the audience with loud demonstrations of approval; that "amid the tears, sobs, and cheers it produced in the excited throng, the orator of the day, Mr. Everett, turned to Mr.

Lincoln, grasped his hand and exclaimed, 'I congratulate you on your success!' adding in a transport of heated enthusiasm, 'Ah, Mr.

President, how gladly would I give my hundred pages to be the author of your twenty lines!'" Nothing of the kind occurred. It is a slander on Mr. Everett, an injustice to Mr. Lincoln, and a falsification of history. Mr. Everett could not have used the words attributed to him, in the face of his own condemnation of the speech uttered a moment before, without subjecting himself to the charge of being a toady and a hypocrite; and he was neither the one nor the other.

As a matter of fact, the silence during the delivery of the speech, and the lack of hearty demonstrations of approval immediately after its close, were taken by Mr. Lincoln as certain proof that it was not well received. In that opinion we all shared. If any person then present saw, or thought he saw, the marvellous beauties of that wonderful speech, as intelligent men in all lands now see and acknowledge them, his superabundant caution closed his lips and stayed his pen. Mr. Lincoln said to me after our return to Washington, "I tell you, Hill, that speech fell on the audience like a wet blanket. I am distressed about it. I ought to have prepared it with more care." Such continued to be his opinion of that most wonderful of all his platform addresses up to the time of his death.

I state it as a fact, and without fear of contradiction, that this famous Gettysburg speech was not regarded by the audience to whom it was addressed, or by the press and people of the United States, as a production of extraordinary merit, nor was it commented on as such until after the death of its author. Those who look thoughtfully into the history of the matter must own that Mr. Lincoln was, on that occasion, "wiser than he knew." He was wiser than his audience, wiser than the great scholars and orators who were a.s.sociated with him in the events of that solemn day. He had unconsciously risen to a height above the level of even the "cultured thought" of that period.[6]

[6] Page 174, line 11, after the word "period."

The words of Clark E. Carr are ent.i.tled to credit, for no one present had more at heart than he the success of these ceremonies--he being one of the original commissioners comprising the board that purchased this, the first ground set apart for a national cemetery for our soldiers. He was on the platform from which Mr. Lincoln spoke. He says in his "Lincoln at Gettysburg" that, "Before the great mult.i.tude of people could prepare themselves to listen intelligently, before their thoughts had become sufficiently centred upon the speaker to take up his line of thought and follow him, he had finished and returned to his seat. So short a time [only about three minutes] was Mr. Lincoln before them that the people could scarcely believe their eyes when he disappeared from their view. They could not possibly in so short a time mentally grasp the ideas that were conveyed. Many persons said to me that they would have supposed that on such a great occasion the President would have made a speech. Every one thought he made only a very few 'dedicatory remarks.' Mr. Carr further says that the general impression was that the remarks consisted of 'a dozen commonplace sentences scarcely one of which contained anything new, anything that when stated was not self-evident.'"

The marvellous perfection, the intrinsic excellence of the Gettysburg speech as a masterpiece of English composition, seem to have escaped the scrutiny of even the most scholarly critics of that day, on this side of the Atlantic. That discovery was made, it must be regretfully owned, by distinguished writers on the other side. The London "Spectator," the "Sat.u.r.day Review," the "Edinburgh Review," and some other European journals were the first to discover, or at least to proclaim, the cla.s.sical merits of the Gettysburg speech. It was then that we began to realize that it was indeed a masterpiece; and it dawned upon many minds that we had entertained an angel unawares, who had left us unappreciated. In no country and in no age of the world has the death of any man caused an outpouring of sorrow so universal. Every nation of the earth felt and expressed its sense of the loss to progressive civilization and popular government. In his life and death, thoughtful men in all lands found an inspiring theme. England's greatest thinker, John Stuart Mill, p.r.o.nounced Abraham Lincoln to be "the greatest citizen, who has afforded a n.o.ble example of the qualities befitting the first magistrate of a free people." The London "Times" declared that the news of his death would be received throughout Europe "with sorrow as sincere and profound as it awoke in the United States," and that "Englishmen had learned to respect a man who showed the best characteristics of their race." The London "Spectator" spoke of him as "certainly the best, if not the ablest man ruling over any country in the civilized world."

For using in his Gettysburg speech the celebrated phrase, "the government of the people, by the people, and for the people," Mr.

Lincoln has been subjected to the most brutal criticism as well as to the most groundless flattery. Some have been base enough to insinuate against that great and sincere man that he was guilty of the crime of wilful plagiarism; others have ascribed to him the honor of originating the phrase entire. There is injustice to him in either view of the case.

I personally know that Mr. Lincoln made no pretence of originality in the matter; nor was he, on the other hand, conscious of having appropriated the thought, or even the exact words, of any other man. If he is subject to the charge of plagiarism, so is the great Webster, who used substantially the same phrase in his celebrated reply to Hayne.

Both men may have acquired the peculiar form of expression (the thought itself being as old as the republican idea of government) by the process known as unconscious appropriation. Certain it is that neither Lincoln nor Webster originated the phrase. Let us see how the case stands.

In an address before the New England Antislavery Convention in Boston, May 29, 1850, Theodore Parker defined Democracy as "a government of _all the people, by all the people, for all the people_, of course," which language is identical with that employed by Mr. Lincoln in his Gettysburg speech. Substantially the same phrase was used by Judge Joel Parker in the Ma.s.sachusetts Const.i.tutional Convention in 1853. A distinguished diplomat has acquainted me with the singular fact that almost the identical phrase employed by Mr. Lincoln was used in another language by a person whose existence even was not probably known to Mr.

Webster, the Parkers, or to Mr. Lincoln. On the thirty-first page of a work ent.i.tled "Geschichte der Schweizerischen Regeneration von 1830 bis 1848, von P. Feddersen," appears an account of a public meeting held at Olten, Switzerland, in May, 1830. On that occasion a speaker named Schinz used the following language, as translated by my friend just referred to: "All the governments of Switzerland [referring to the cantons] must acknowledge that they are simply from _all the people, by all the people, and for all the people_."

These extracts are enough to show that no American statesman or writer can lay claim to the origin or authorship of the phrase in question. No friend of Mr. Lincoln will pretend that it is the coinage of his fertile brain; nor will any fair-minded man censure him for using it as he did in his Gettysburg speech. As a phrase of singular compactness and force, it was employed by him, legitimately and properly, as a fitting conclusion to an address which the judgment of both hemispheres has declared will live as a model of cla.s.sic oratory while free government shall continue to be known and revered among men.

"The world will little note, | "The speech will live when nor long remember, what we | the memory of the battle will say here; but it can never | be lost or only remembered forget what they did here." | because of the speech."

LINCOLN. SUMNER.

CHAPTER XII.

HIS UNSWERVING FIDELITY TO PURPOSE.

During the long series of defeats and disasters which culminated in the battles of Fredericksburg and of Chancellorsville, there arose in certain circles of the army and of the National Legislature a feeling of distrust and dissatisfaction, that reached its climax in an intrigue to displace Mr. Lincoln, if not from his position at least from the exercise of his prerogatives, by the appointment of a dictator. Such a measure would have been scarcely less revolutionary than many others which were openly avowed and advocated.

In this cabal were naturally included all those self-const.i.tuted advisers whose counsels had not been adopted in the conduct of the war; all those malcontents and grumblers who, conscious of their incapacity to become makers of pots and pitchers, are always so eager to exhibit their skill and ingenuity as menders of them. In this coalition of non-combatant guardian angels of the country and civilian warriors were to be found patriots of every shade and of every degree.

First, the political patriot, who recognized in a brilliant succession of Federal victories the only probable prospect of preserving the ascendency of his party and promoting his own personal fortunes.

Second, the commercial patriot, whose dominant pa.s.sion was a love of--self; to whom the spoliation of the South and the swindling of his own government afforded the most fruitful expedient for feathering his nest.

Third, the religious patriot, whose love of country was subordinate to his hatred of slavery and of slaveholders; who having recanted his dictum that the Const.i.tution of the United States was a "covenant with death and an agreement with h.e.l.l," was now one of the most vindictive and unscrupulous advocates of a war of extermination. As is frequently the case where one cla.s.s of persons is severely exercised over the iniquities of another, to a sentiment of philanthropy had succeeded the most violent animosity and intolerance, until sympathy for the slave degenerated into the most envenomed hostility toward his owner.

Among the most aggressive a.s.sailants of the President were thus comprised all those elements in his party, with whom the logic of the war might be summed up in the comprehensive formula, "Power, plunder, and extended rule." The evolution of events and his consistent policy, as foreshadowed and indicated on the close of hostilities, have clearly demonstrated that with such minds Mr. Lincoln could have little sympathy or fellowship. Conscientiously observant of his solemn oath to maintain the Const.i.tution, he could not be persuaded to evade the obligations of his high trust by lending his authority to the accomplishment of their revolutionary and nefarious designs. _Hinc illae lachrymae_; hence, disappointed at the failure of their endeavor to shape his policy in obedience to the suggestions of their own ign.o.ble designs, their open revolt.

No member of the cabal was better advised of its progress or of the parties concerned in it than Mr. Lincoln himself. He often talked with me on the subject. He did not fear it; he feared nothing except to commit an involuntary wrong or mistake of judgment in the administration of his high and responsible trust. He would willingly have resigned office and retired to the un.o.btrusive life and simple duties of a private citizen, if by so doing he could have restored the integrity of the Union, or in anywise have promoted the success of the Union cause.

In this connection he would often say to me: "In G.o.d's name! if any one can do better in my place than I have done, or am endeavoring to do, let him try his hand at it, and no one will be better contented than myself."

One time I went to Mr. Lincoln's office at the White House and found the door locked. I went through a private room and through a side entrance into the office, where I found the President lying on a sofa, evidently greatly disturbed and much excited, manifestly displeased with the outlook. Jumping up from his reclining position he advanced, saying: "You know better than any man living that from my boyhood up my ambition was to be President. I am President of one part of this divided country at least; but look at me! I wish I had never been born! It is a white elephant on my hands, and hard to manage. With a fire in my front and rear; having to contend with the jealousies of the military commanders, and not receiving that cordial co-operation and support from Congress which could reasonably be expected; with an active and formidable enemy in the field threatening the very life-blood of the government,--my position is anything but a bed of roses."

I remarked to him: "It strikes me that you are somewhat in the position of the great Richelieu, of whom it was said that he was the first man in Europe but the second only in his own country."

"Oh, no! very far from it," he replied. "Richelieu never had a fire in his front and rear at the same time, but a united const.i.tuency, which it has never been my good fortune to have." Then brightening up, his whole nature seemed all at once to change. I could see a merry twinkle in his eye as he said: "If I can only keep my end of the animal pointed in the right direction, I will yet get him through this infernal jungle and get my end of him and his tail placed in their proper relative positions. I have never faltered in my faith of being ultimately able to suppress this rebellion and of reuniting this divided country; but this improvised vigilant committee to watch my movements and keep me straight, appointed by Congress and called the 'committee on the conduct of the war,' is a marplot, and its greatest purpose seems to be to hamper my action and obstruct the military operations."

Earnestly desirous of conciliating and harmonizing every element, with a view to the accomplishment of the one--the dearest--aspiration of his heart, a restoration of the Union, Mr. Lincoln had yielded until further concessions would have implied ductility or imbecility, until every sentiment of dignity and of self-respect would have uttered an indignant protest. He then well knew that he must a.s.sert himself, or be an unimportant factor in the body-politic in the struggle for the life and preservation of the nation; and rising at length to the full height of his matchless self-reliance and independence, he exclaimed: "This state of things shall continue no longer. I will show them at the other end of the Avenue whether I am President or not!"

From this moment he never again hesitated or wavered as to his course.

From this moment he was recognized as the Executive Chief and Const.i.tutional Commander of the Armies and Navy of the United States.

His opponents and would-be masters were now, for the most part, silenced; but they hated him all the more cordially.

A short time before the fall of Vicksburg, great dissatisfaction became rife at General Grant's tardiness in moving on the enemy's works. There was a pretty general feeling in favor of relieving Grant from his command, and appointing some one who would make short work of that formidable stronghold of the enemy and relieve the people from their state of anxiety. Mr. Lincoln had great faith in General Grant. He was being constantly importuned and beset by the leading politicians to turn Grant out of the command. One day about this time he said to me, "I fear I have made Senator Wade, of Ohio, my enemy for life." "How?" I asked. "Wade was here just now urging me to dismiss Grant, and in response to something he said I remarked, 'Senator, that reminds me of a story.' 'Yes, yes!' Wade petulantly replied, 'it is with you, sir, all story, story! You are the father of every military blunder that has been made during the war. You are on your road to h.e.l.l, sir, with this government, by your obstinacy; and you are not a mile off this minute.'

I good-naturedly said to him: 'Senator, that is just about the distance from here to the Capitol, is it not?' He was very angry, and grabbed up his hat and cane and went away."

Lincoln then continued to say: "To show to what extent this sentiment prevails, even Washburne, who has always claimed Grant as his by right of discovery, has deserted him, and demands his removal; and I really believe I am the only friend Grant has left. Grant advises me [Mr.