Confederate Union

by Alan Sewell

  This time there were subdued sounds of approval from the floor and even from a few of the Southern Rights spectators in the galleries. Chairman Cushing allowed the noise to die down then asked if there were any further business. After a moment of silence he said, “We will vote for the Party Platform in Monday’s morning session. We will vote for our party’s nominee in the afternoon secession. This convention is adjourned until ten o’clock Monday!”

  Yancey managed with difficulty to rise from his chair and make his way back to his hotel. Instead of giving him accolades, most Southern Rights delegates did their best to ignore him. A few shook his hand and said without enthusiasm, “Good speech, Bill.”

  It was Saturday evening. Yancey worked the hotel taverns and upstairs rooms, hectoring the intoxicated Southern Rights men to be prepared to walk out of the convention with him if their slavery platform was voted down by the Northern majority on Monday. The delegates shouted, “Three cheers for Yancey!” and “Buy a drink for Bill!” but most paid no attention to his harangues. The few sober men who did said, “I don’t know, Bill. Jefferson Davis has decided to unite the party behind Douglas. Maybe we had better take some time to think this through.”

  Yancey, who had taken but a few sips from the many drinks bought for him, walked briskly back to his room when the taverns closed their doors in the wee hours, passing many others who stumbled along in the moonlight, a few howling like dogs. That Sunday morning, as the dawn brightened, the hotel rooms in Charleston buzzed with the snoring of delegates sleeping off their benders.

  Yancey awoke at ten but restrained himself until mid afternoon when he started making the rounds of knocking on the hung-over delegates’ doors. Instead of telling Yancey to “go to hell” as they would have said to most any other delegate, the men with throbbing heads and dry mouths simply nodded, hoping that Yancey would get out of their hair as quickly as possible. Even the sober delegates who had attended church that morning politely excused themselves when Yancey came knocking on their doors.

  On Monday the fateful vote on the party’s platform was taken. Yancey’s slave plank was voted down, the more moderate position favored by Douglas prevailing by a margin of 185 to 118. Following the vote Yancey duly walked out of the convention, calling for the delegates of fifteen Southern Slave States to go with him. Two South Carolina delegates heeded him. So did two Georgia men and one each from Alabama and Mississippi. The rest of the delegates stayed put and then proceeded, according to the Compact, to nominate their party’s ticket of Stephen Douglas and Jefferson Davis.

  Dan Elbert, one of Alabama’s delegates who had been uncertain whether to follow Yancey out of the convention, sat back down when he saw that only six men had followed Yancey out of the hall. In the moment of profound silence of their leaving he involuntarily let out a loud, “Whew!” of relief that only these few had gone.

  That broke the tension. The hundreds of delegates who remained roared with laughter, then began whistling and cheering. Somebody up in the galleries unfurled a large American flag. As it caught the breeze and fluttered, the cheers of the delegates, Northern and Southern alike, rose to a crescendo that shook the building to its foundations.

  A delegate standing near a reporter was heard to say, “Well, it looks like the Union flag of Washington, Jefferson, and ‘Old Hickory’ Jackson is safe for another generation.” The quote was the closing line in the story of the convention’s proceedings that most of the nation’s newspapers reported on the following day.

  3

  Springfield Illinois, May 19, 1860

  Abraham Lincoln addressed his Republican Party colleagues happily milling about in his Springfield law office: “Gentlemen, as the Democrats have done us no favors by dividing their party, let’s make it our first order of business to do them no favors by dividing ours!”

  “That’s right, gentlemen,” exclaimed Lincoln’s boisterous friend and campaign manager David Davis. “Let there be no favors for Democrats! The last favor Old Abe did for a Democrat was to marry Mary Todd before Judge Douglas got around to it!”

  Lincoln and his friends laughed with gusto. They all knew how Mr. Lincoln and Senator Douglas had both courted Mary Todd as young bucks making their starts in Springfield. Although Mr. Lincoln was his party’s candidate for chief magistrate of the nation, his authority at home was severely constrained. Stories of Mrs. Lincoln chasing her husband through the streets of Springfield with a rolling pin were the source of much mirth in town. There were many who supposed that Mr. Lincoln had done Douglas a huge favor by beating him to the punch in proposing marriage to the charming but temperamental firebrand.

  Mr. Lincoln slapped his knee and looked over his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, pretending to make sure that no one else, and especially not his wife, was in earshot.

  “Judge Douglas can’t run as fast as Mrs. Lincoln, so I suppose that during this canvass I shall be able to keep a step or two ahead of him!”

  This time even the stern men among Lincoln’s entourage laughed loudly. It was indeed a joyous day of celebration for Mr. Lincoln and his friends. The Republican Party’s official delegation had come to town to notify him of his selection as the party’s presidential nominee. It was a beautifully inspiring spring day outside as well, the sun tempered by passing rain showers that washed the air breezing in through the open windows of Mr. Lincoln’s upstairs office.

  The celebration was diminished only by the news that the Democrats had indeed failed to “do them the favor” of heeding Yancey’s call to split the party into warring factions that could be beaten by the unified Republicans. In fact the Compact between Stephen Douglas and Jefferson Davis had reinvigorated the Democrats, making them stronger than they had been in years.

  David Davis continued on in his affable manner. “The story about Mr. Lincoln’s courtship speaks to a remarkable situation. The two presidential contenders have made their careers together here in this little frontier town. They have become their respective parties’ nominees because both parties know that to obtain an electoral majority they must carry Illinois. The election may be decided right here in the State of Illinois and very possibly by the voters of Sangamon County.”

  George Ashmun of Massachusetts, head of the Republican Party delegation, was strolling around the table where ham, bread, and condiments had been set up. He waved a pickle between his fingers emphatically, as if it were a cigar.

  “That’s not to say that many counties aren’t important,” Ashmun emphasized. “I’ve been looking at the ones around New York City and Philadelphia. We’ll need every vote we can get in those cities to carry the states of New York and Pennsylvania, which of course will also be necessary to make an electoral majority.”

  “That’s what we were talking about on the way down here,” Davis explained to Lincoln. “We’re talking about running two campaigns, one that appeals to the interests of the East and the other that will appeal to Westerners. In the East we must talk about containing slavery and enacting protective tariffs, giving equal weight to each. Here in the West we’ll talk about containing slavery, enacting the Homestead Act, and not a word about tariffs.”

  Davis addressed the entire group. “Another thing to remember is to ‘Talk White.’ Let the people know that we are against the spread of slavery not just because it degrades the Negro but also because we want to protect the right of Whites to emigrate to the Territories and prosper there with free labor. When the Democrats call us ‘Black Republicans’ answer: ‘We are the White Man’s Party because we respect the rights of free labor. The Democrats are the Black Party because they want to spread Negro slavery to every part of this country.’ So remember to talk Free Soil in the West. Talk tariffs in the East. Talk White Man’s Party everywhere.”

  “While it is appropriate for us to campaign for the rights of White labor, let us not campaign against the Negro,” Lincoln advised. “I should not like for anybody in our party to campaign on the idea that the Negro, by the mere fact of his existen
ce, is the cause of our national strife. Let’s not join with those who seek to blame the Negro for problems of our own making.”

  The men nodded assent.

  “Davis and I have been cyphering the electoral vote,” said Ashmun. “We’ll carry New England, Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. Ohio will be close, but we’ll have more Republicans campaigning there than Douglas men, so it’s ours to lose. We’ll carry Pennsylvania if we make our campaign clear on tariffs. To make sure of New York we’ll have to keep the vote close in New York City and its environs. Mayor Wood believes the city’s fortunes are tied up with the Southern cotton trade. To some degree he has a valid point. The New York banks do make most of their money lending to Southern planters. The shippers make most of theirs transporting Southern cotton to Europe. We’ll have to convince New Yorkers that their fortunes are more tied to Northern industries, which we will protect with tariffs.”

  Ashmun crunched the last of his pickle and then went on, barely pausing for breath. “Then there’s New Jersey, which votes Democrat, but apportions its electoral vote. If we can make it close we can pick up at least three of its seven electoral votes. And remember: we’ve got to direct our early efforts especially toward Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Indiana, which elect state offices in October. The early votes in October will certainly influence the national vote in November.”

  Lincoln’s protégé Richard Yates, running as the Republican candidate for Governor of Illinois, had perched himself atop a table in between stacks of law books.

  “We must use this election to stop the Slave Powers,” Yates said, frowning. “We’ve let them suborn the Supreme Court. We’ve let them take over in California and Oregon, after we brought them into the Union as Free States. Now we’ve let them set up shop in New Jersey and New York. While they’re busy fighting us in the Free States they’ve shut us out from even campaigning in most of the Slave States. I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t be talking about leaving the Union!”

  Lincoln looked up from the sheet of projected electoral vote tallies that Ashmun had given him.

  “Have patience, Dick. I am certain we will carry the entire Northeast except for a couple of New Jersey’s electors. We have it in our power to carry the entire Northwest, and we will do so with a strong campaign. If we accomplish that much we will prevail in the Electoral College. Let’s devote our energies to accomplishing what we can accomplish and don’t worry about that which is beyond our reach.”

  Elmer Ellsworth, another of Lincoln’s fiery young Republican friends who was renowned as the organizer of the paramilitary group known as the Chicago Militia, had become agitated by the discussion. He had been munching away happily on a ham sandwich until he heard Yates say that the Republicans had been prevented from campaigning in the Slave States. “Why aren’t our men allowed to campaign in the South?” he asked sharply.

  “The Slave States allege that our campaign to restrict slavery encourages slave revolts. Incitement of slaves is a violation of their Slave Codes,” Ashmun replied, as he returned yet again from the table holding a piece of sliced ham.

  Ellsworth jumped off the table. “Balderdash! The Bill of Rights protects the free speech of every candidate!”

  “The First Amendment prevents the Federal Government from restricting the people’s right to express their opinions,” explained Ashmun. “The Slave States will argue that it doesn’t prevent the states from restricting it, at least where anything that might be construed to be a criticism of slavery is concerned. Most of the Slave States won’t allow our candidates on their ballots, not that we’d have any chance of winning their electoral votes even if they did. Like Mr. Lincoln says, there’s no point in getting incited by it.”

  Ellsworth pointed his finger. “If they won’t even allow us on the ballot, then it’s not a legitimate election,” he said decisively. “Our next job will be to fix the Constitution so that it will be respected by the Slave States. Until then, if any Republican candidates want to campaign in those states, my men will be pleased to accompany them. We will force the Slave States to give them a fair hearing, even if it has to be at the point of our bayonets!”

  A couple of the delegates laughed nervously, but the more thoughtful men were silent. Sending a Northern militia company into the Slave States would ignite a civil war as soon as the company crossed the Ohio River.

  Lincoln put his hand on Ellsworth’s shoulder. “Let’s not talk like that. If we make our case persuasively here in the North we will win the electoral votes we need. Let us devote our energies to making our case to the people of these states who will listen to us.”

  Ellsworth wasn’t satisfied. He stopped chewing his sandwich and fixed his gaze sternly on Mr. Lincoln. “If the time ever comes when you need my militia to protect your right to be heard in every part of this Union, rest assured we will be ready.”

  4

  Washington City, June 23, 1860

  Stephen Douglas held court with his entourage at his residence in Washington City. Jefferson Davis wasn’t there, having no taste for Douglas’ liquor and cigar extravaganzas, nor for that matter any personal affinity for Douglas. But Douglas and his friends were having the time of their lives. The session of Congress had adjourned. With official business finished they were relaxing in boisterous good company, joyously contemplating the prospect of the rambunctious Stephen Douglas replacing timid James “Old Buck” Buchanan in the White House and thereby restarting the nation on its glorious Manifest Destiny that had been sidetracked so long by all those pointless debates over slavery.

  Douglas raised his glass of whiskey through the smoke-filled air yet again.

  “Now, gentlemen, let’s begin our campaign to save the country! Confederate Union, United Expansion!”

  He was proud of that catchphrase. He had coined it himself to let the voters know that it meant more Slave States for the South and more Free States for the North. That, he hoped, would rally moderate voters to his party’s standard, defeating the militant anti-slavery Republicans in the North and the die-hard remnant of Southern Fire Eaters clinging to Yancey.

  Douglas snorted a whiskey belch, spit a piece of cigar wrapper on the floor, and continued, “I’m counting on Davis and Breckinridge to hold the Slave States. They’ll keep Yancey’s band from picking off Mississippi, Alabama, and South Carolina. Aleck Stephens will hold the line for us in Georgia. Sam Houston will hold Texas. We’ll also send Davis to New York, Boston, and Portland. He’ll speak to the workingmen who don’t want the slaves set free to take their jobs. Caleb Cushing and Horatio Seymour will accompany him. We’ll make the Republicans fight and fight hard, in their own bordello! Who knows, but we might even take New York.”

  “We will carry it!” shouted his friends, raising their glasses.

  “The Ohio Valley will be our battleground!” he exclaimed, barely pausing for breath. “We need all the counties between the Ohio River and the Old National Road, and I mean all of them! We need the immigrant precincts in Chicago and South Bend! Let’s get what we can out of the Dutch and Irish in Milwaukee too. We might as well make Wisconsin as close as we can.”

  Douglas gestured to Illinois Congressman John ‘Blackjack’ Logan.

  “Blackjack will be working Illinois from Alton east to the Wabash and south to the Ohio. While he’s doing that I’ll be receiving audiences in Chicago. I am advised not to break with tradition and take to the stump, but if I have to make a wee journey or two beyond Chicago then so be it!”

  The men laughed at the image of Douglas campaigning like a whirlwind across Illinois and Indiana while pretending to honor the tradition of never leaving his hotel residence in Chicago.

  Douglas turned next to Tennessee Senator Andrew Johnson who was relishing his shots of whiskey in a rare night of indulgence away from his strict wife. Douglas winked at Johnson.

  “Andy’s going to stump for us in New Jersey, then work his way through Pennsylvania and Ohio then into Illinois and Indiana. His message will be: ‘
Men of any party who advocate destroying the Union and repudiating the Constitution are preaching treason!’ ”

  Johnson’s whiskey-veined nose swelled red and his eyes shown bright. “Damn right!” he thundered. “Those fire-eating sons a bitches in the Plantation Aristocracy must be taught that secession is treason. So do the damn Abolitionists who talk disunion from the North. As for me I don’t care which bank of the Ohio a Secessionist stands on. A traitor is a traitor in any direction!”

  The men shouted their approval.

  Douglas took another draft of whiskey and made himself heard over the uproar. “That’s the message, Andy! We must make it clear that anyone who desires to divide this country is a traitor no matter what direction he comes from!” He held up the bottle. “Care for a refill?”

  Johnson snorted. “Twist my arm!”

  “The way the rain’s beating on the roof we might have to stay here all night,” said Caleb Cushing as Douglas poured the whiskey. “That would be a hell of a shame, wouldn’t it, Andy?”

  The room echoed again with laughter.

  “Boys, I heard some troubling news the other day,” Douglas said in mock seriousness. “A young inventor came by my office seeking funding for what he called a ‘telegraph exchange.’ Said he wants to build an exchange with telegraph lines connecting every home with every other one. That’s going to put a crimp on some of us when our wives start asking us to call home every hour, especially you, Andy!”

  “The world’s changing, isn’t it?” commented ‘Blackjack’ Logan when the laughter subsided. “I don’t think the day will be long in coming before each of us will have a telegraph in our home. If we can run a telegraph to Europe we can run one anywhere and everywhere. Won’t be long before every nook and cranny of the country, and maybe the entire world, is connected. Our job is to keep the country united today so that we’ll be able to profit from progress tomorrow.”