'^^ (-0 -^^°-» '^o " j>'' ,c '<;$> '" ^^' - , -^ A v*. ' o /» o ^ ^-o,*- O * - , • y/^2^ ^^-t,^.^^^--^^^^ THE PICTURE g ^ % ^^ AND THE MEN: BEING BIOGKAPniCAL SKETCHES OF FKESIDENT LINCOLN AND HIS CABINET ; TOGETHER WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OP THE CELEBRATED ARTIST, F. B. CARPENTER, AUTHOR OP THE GREAT NATIONAL PAINTING, THE FIRST EEADIXG OP THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION BEFORE THB CABINET BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN ; including also An account op the Picture ; an account op tht: Crisis which pro- duced IT ; AND AN Appendix containing the Great Proclama- tion AND THE Supplementary Proclamation op Jan- uary 1, 1863 ; together with a Portrait op the Artist, and a Kmt to the Picture. COifPILED BY FRED. B. PERKINS, editor op "the galaxy," formerly one op the editors op the new YORK "tribune," AND OP THE NEW YORK "INDEPENDENT." 1 ttt^tti^ltett !5y .^Q^^ A. J. JOHNSON, NEW YORK G. & A. C. ROWE, CLEVELAND, OHIO C. ALLEN, M.D., CHICAGO, ILL. 1867. Entered, according to Act of Congres?, in the Year 1867, by A. J. JOHNSON, In the Clerk's Office op the District Court of tub United States for the Southern District of New York. DAVTE3 & Kent, Electrotypers and Stereotypers, 183 William St., N. Y, PREFACE. This rapidly- written little book is intended to serve as a companion and key to Mr. Car- penter's great picture. The sketches of the persons whom that picture represents, the ac- count of the picture itself, of the crisis which suggested it, and of the painter who executed it, are all meant to give such information as will help to a clearer and fuller understanding of the painting. The writer has no wish to conceal the fact that he is what is called an ''extreme Radi- cal ;" but he has sought to oniit himself from this subject, and to sketch the persons here represented, not with reference to any ap- proval or disapproval of his own, but as they may justly be believed to have meant while laboring honestly to the best of their ability for the preservation of the Union, IV I'KEFACE. The principal authorities used in the work, besides some standard books of reference ac- cessible to all, are : Mr. Carpenter's own very interesting work, " Six Months at the White House, '^ a singularly full collection of the most graphic and entertaining anecdotes and reminiscences ; the lives of Mr. Lincoln by Raymond, Holland, Barrett, Crosby, and Mrs. Hanaford ; Trowbridge's biography of Mr. Chase, entitled " Ferry Boy and Financier j'^ and Baker's Life of Seward. Technical criticism of Mr. Carpenter's pic- ture has been avoided ; as the writer is one of the very few persons living who do not understand the business of art criticism. FRED. B. PERKINS. January 2d, 1867. TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE Life of Fkancis B. Carpenter 7 The Occasion ]9 The Picture 32 President Lincoiji 50 Secretary Seward 1 14 Secretary Chase 137 Secretary Smith 156 Secretary Welles 159 Secretary Stantox 164 Attorney-General Bates 177 Postmaster-General Blair 180 Appendix : Tub Proclamations 185 THE PICTUEE AND THE MEN. F, B. CARPENTER. Francis Bicknell Caepexter, painter of the picture of " The First Reading of the Emancipation Procla- mation by President Lincohi to his Cabinet," is an artist of high reputation, having ah-eady painted por- traits of Ex-President Tyler, President Pierce, Presi- dent Fillmore, Chief-Justice Chase, Secretary Marcy, Secretary Seward, Senators Cass and Houston, Attor- ney-General Cushing, and many other eminent persons besides. Like Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Fillmore, and many more of the distinguished Americans who have sat to him, Mr. Carpenter was born in humble circumstances, and has earned his own prosperity and reputation by good conduct and hard w^ork — a truly American career. Mr. Carpenter was born in Homer, Cortland County, New York, Aug. 6, 1830. His father was a respectable farmer, of almost as practical a character as King George the Second, whose whole doctrine about the fine arts was expressed by his saying, in his German brogue, " I hate bainting, and hoetry too." Young 8 THK PICTUEE AND THE MEN. Carpenter was intended by his good father for a farmer, or perhaps a country merchant, and like other country boys he was sent to the " deestrick school," or American university. As soon as the boy was old enough to have any preferences, he showed a strong love for Art. This was when he was at school, and eight years old, and its lirst occasion was his seeing and admiring a clever pencil- drawing made on a panel of the school-room door, one day at recess, by a schoolmate named Otis, subsequently a distinguished physician in New York. This door-panel picture stirred up in young Carpenter the desire and resolve which made him an artist. For the next live or six years the little fellow worked away with untiring industry, drawing pictures of all sorts of things, on whatever v/ould hold a picture. lie had neither instruction, books, nor models. Farmers' sons seldom have much money, and the resolute boy often traveled three miles to the village to invest his total c-apital, usually not over two cents, in a sheet of unruled foolscap and a pencil. Blank leaves out of old a^-count books, all manner of blank and waste papers, blank walls, both inside of the house and out, smooth pieces of board — every available surface — were industriously used instead of canvas, and some of these monuments of youthful effort still decorate the walls of the old homestead. As in many other cases, this youthful pe- riod was one of ambition as great as its experience was small ; the boy soared promptly into the ideal realm of historical painting, and among other scenes chalked on the side of the old barn the capture of Andre, and William Tell Shooting the Apple from his Son's Foad. F. B. CAKPENTER. 9 All this vigorous industry met with little response, except snubs and sneers. Mr. Carpenter promptly re- buked every hint from his son about becoming a painter. And Deacon I , one of the more eminent dignitaries of the neighborliood, wlien somebody asked him some question about all this drawing, answered, with great scorn, " Humph ! you can't turn over a chip on liis father's farm without findin' a pictur' of a chicken or sunthin' on t'other side on't !" And this, by the way, is ail that is known of the eminent and influential deacon. When young Carpenter was thirteen, his father sought to put him in the way of earning a respectable living, and secured for him, to this end, employment in a grocery store in Ithaca. But drawing molasses was not the kind of draAving which the young gentle- man preferred, and the worthy man of codfish soon became sure that the youth was '' a poor creature." For six months he tried faithfully to make the boy do something useful, but all in vain ; and quite discour- aged, he sent him home to his father with a letter say- ing that he showed notliing of the intelligence neces- sary for mercantile business, and that his mind turned entirely to drawing and reading. Therefore, advised the good grocer, the best thing to be done with him is to keep him at work on the farm ! This sage advice was followed, and doubtless Mr. Carpenter, senior, and the other elders, concluded, as Sir Isaac Kewton's teacher did about him, that the boy was a hopeless dunce. Just at this time Mr. George L. Clongh, a young artist from Auburn, N. Y., came to Homer to paint 10 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. some portraits, and young Carpenter, getting permis- sion to see him work, watched the operation of paint- ing for the first time in his life, and with the keen- ness of a famislied man's appetite. Some new ideas on the subject of color were thus acquired, and with the prompt executive impulse of a natural worker, the boy quickly set himself to try them. Colors and pencils he had not, and could not buy, and the sugges- tion of a neighbor that house j^aint would do nicely to begin with, was a welcome one. Away he went to the village and got one pound of white lead ; back again home, and there he found some lampblack which was- used to mark sheep. This served for light and shade; and for color, he discovered some lumps of Venetian red, which had dried up in a corner of the barn until so hard that he had to pound them up on the door-step. His pencils were of the sort used by car- riage-painters, his pallet was whittled out of a piece of shingle, and his canvas a piece of coat lining. Thus armed, the youthful artist coaxed his mother to sit, and soon outlined and almost completed an easily recognized likeness, with what curious grays, reds, and browns it is not easy to imagine. But alb parties to this great work were afraid of Mr. Carpenter, senior, who had grown really angry in opposing the " non- sense," as he termed it, of his son ; and so it was kept a profound secret. Now Master Frank had become rather unpleasantly conspicuous on the farm for being always invisible at work-hours ; he was always out of the way — " 'round the corner," like Mr. Chevy Slyme in the novel. One day the impatient father wanted Frank's help, and so, instead of calling him, went right F. B. CAKFENTER. 11 to his room. Striding angrily in, he saw tlic picture, and stopped short : " Who is that ?" lie asked. " Don't you know, father ?" said the boy, roguishly, and yet earnestly. " It is your mother, I suppose," said the father, gruffly, though honestly ; and he was somewhat con- science-struck at seeing that the boy who liad not mind enough for groceries could actually make a likeness. He turned and hastily left the room without a word, but his manner- toward his son at once- became much more agreeable. Indeed, he even sat to him himself, selecting only rainy days, when he could not work, and feeling so slight an interest in the matter that he fell asleep on one occasion at least, within ten minutes after sitting down. Xevertheless,- the likeness was un- mistakable, thougjh rous^h ; and the neii^hbors said it was decidedly better than the works of the wandering artists who had been the only painters there before. A small compliment, yet doubtless true. At length the sturdy opposition of the father to the single ambition of the son gave way, and it was agreed that young Carpenter might obtain some regular pro- fessional instruction. Promptly and joyfully the boy applied to Mr. Sandford Thayer, of Syracuse, who ex- amined him closely, received him into his studio, and during five months gave him a course of judicious in- struction which became a solid foundation for subse- quent technical acquirements. Mr. Thayer had been a student under the eminent portrait-painter Elliott, who visited Syracuse and painted several portraits in Mr. Thayer's studio while young Carpenter was there. IS THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. Mr. Elliott, a genial and thoroughly kind-hearted man, took a great interest in the zealous young apprentice, allowed him full opportunity of observing his methods, gave him advice which was of much service to him, and has ever since been his steadfast friend. Mr. Carpenter opened a studio for the first time, in his native village of Homer, in the year 1846, before lie was sixteen. He boarded at home for a few weeks, but liis father soon notified him that, having chosen his profession, he must live entirely by it ; so lie stoutly went into the village and electioneered for board from house to house, ofiering to paint portraits in pay for his meals. For the first year or two his " chariot- wheels drave heavily" enough. His first commission was to paint the portrait of a clerk in the village store, who paid hhii with .cloth enough for a pair of panta- loons; and his second brought him a pair of boots. But this success, though not very brilliant, was exceed- ingly substantial, and it was real practice, too ; so the youth worked on with good courage. His first large cash fee was ten dollars. This sum was paid him by Hon. IL S. Randall, who lived in the vicinity, for drawings to illustrate his well-known book on sheep husbandry. Mr. Randall, recognizing the talent of the young artist, soon afterward employed him to paint his portrait. Shortly afterward, he painted the por- traits of the nine survivors of the original Trustees of Cortland Academy ; and the pictures, still adorning the Academy library, though crude and rough, possess all the chief characteristics of the artist's style. In 1848, Mr. Carpenter sent to the " American Art Union," then a flourishing institution in New York city, an ideal F. B. C'AKrKNTKK. 13 female liead. This was submitted to the purchasing committee along with about four hundred other paint- ings, and was one of the twelve which they decided to buy, out of the whole number; and the struggling young countryman received what was to him the really handsome sum of fifty dollars. This was a genuine artistic and financial success, and was the beginning of Mr. Carpenter's career of efficient professional labor and prosperity, though he had poverty and difficulty yet to encounter. The Art Union afterward bought several others of Mr. Carpenter's pictures, being all that he offered them ; and he now had a good many com- missions for portraits, though at low rates. In the spring of 1851 Mr, Carpenter established him- self in New York city, sending to the Exhibition of the Academy of Design a portrait of a young girl, which was liked by many, and so much so by W. S. Mount, the painter, that he took pains to become acquainted with Mr. Carpenter, sat to him, and did all in his power to make him known. In the next autumn Mr. Carpenter married Miss Augusta H. Prentiss. The following winter he executed a full-length portrait of Mr. David Leavitt, which, at the next Exhibition of the Academy, was very highly praised, and the artist was now chosen Associate of the Academy, at what was then an unusually early age. In the autumn of 1852, Hon. D. A. Bokee, of Brooklyn, commissioned Mr. Carpenter to paint a full-length of President Fill- more, which was a very successful j^icture, and re- ceived an extremely flattering testimonial in a letter from the President. The city of New York bought a duplicate of this picture. During the first winter of 14 THE PICTUliE AND THE MEX. Gen. Pierce's term, Mr. Carpenter was employed to paint his picture, the President consenting only with great reluctance, because several j^revious pictures had all been unsatisfactory. He, however, quickly found himself much interested in the work, and both he and his friends considered it beyond comparison the best i^xjr- trait ever taken of him. At the urgent request of Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, Mr. Carpenter afterward exe- cuted successfully the difficult task of painting a pic- ture of their deceased son, the materials being only a defective daguerreotype, and the recollections of sur- viving friends. The genial personal qualities of the artist, and his peculiar professional abilities, had by this time secured him efficient friends at Washington ; and in the beginning of 1855 he went to Washington again, commissioned to paint Governor Marcy, and Senators Cass, Chase, Houston, and Seward. Congress adjourned before the work was completed, but Presi- dent Pierce invited the artist to stay at the White House for the rest of his visit, and here he executed tAVO portraits of Gov. Marcy, one of Attorney-General Gushing, and a profile head of the President. Among the other portraits painted by Mr. Carpenter may be mentioned those of Henry Ward Beecher, liis father. Rev. Lyman Beecher, Rev. R. S. Storrs, ex- Mayors Talmadge, Brush, Lambert, and Hall of Brook- lyn, General McDonald, Professors Gibbs and Aiken, General Fremont, Rev. Drs. Cox, Field, Bushnell, and Bacon, Captain Hudson of the first telegraph fleet, etc., etc. Mr. Carpenter is now comfortably established in New York city, and is enjoying the reputation and income F. B. (JAliPENTEK. 15 which are the just earnings of so much undiscouraged toil and sincere thought and effort. Mr. Carpenter is distinctly a portrait-painter, both by natural preference and natural endowment. From the very first awakening of his inclination for Art, his attention was always drawn most keenly to the human face and head. These he studies with instinctive special love; enjoys their traits and their meaning, and labors with his happiest spontaneous thoughts and skill to reproduce them on canvas. This natural preference, however, would be very im- perfect without that fitness for the work which Mr. Carpenter's mental and physical constitution affords. He has a quick and sensitive intuition of character, ready sympathies, a calm and even cheerfulness of dis- position, is perfectly unassuming in fact and in manner, and is at once kindly, receptive, and appreciative. The student of character will easily see that these traits constitute the agreeable companion as well as the in- telligent painter. This is just the combination calcu- lated to render Mr. Carpenter a welcome friend to the numerous eminent political leaders whom he has painted. They are quick-witted and clear-headed men, and have a pretty good judgment on the essential merits of a picture ; they spend their lives in contend- ing with rivals and opponents ; and they find in the artist a painter just and competent without flattery, a friend, calm and appreciative and genial, .who wants neither influence nor office, and whose easy conver- sation and 2:)leasant society make his sitter's chair a sort of rest and home. Mr. Fillmore was once asked by a lady if his sittings to Mr. Carpenter were not 16 THK riOTURK AJSD 'IHK MEN. tedious ? " O no, madam," he replied, promptly ; " it is the pleasantest lioiir in the day." Criticisnis already printed have recognized more or less clearly the peculiar traits above stated. Thus th(i Mome jQur7ial, in 1856, in sj^eaking of ]Mr. Carpenter's works in the Exhibition of that year,- observed : " The painter of these pictures is perhaps the most variously self-adaptable, the most symmetrically constituted, safe, and sure, of any of our portrait-painters. If he can be characterized by anything, it is the almost unexampled number of his variations of color and style, to suit the complexion and character of his sitters." And the IST. Y. Evening Post subsequently remarked : " The por- traits by this artist are remarkable chiefly for their subtile mentality ; for their faithful rendering of the inward life and dis^^osition." Mr. Carpenter's character as a man may be in some measure estimated by his career as an artist. He pos- sesses ejccellent mental and moral endowments, being resolute, industrious, prompt, orderly, and efficient in executive matters, and upright and blameless in all the relations of a man and a citizen. During the first ten months of his residence in ISTcav York he had but one or two commissions for portraits; but he did not by any means sit idle for that. One of his earliest resolves was, to keep at work at something ; and if he had no jjaying sitters, he would prevail on friends or acquaint- ances to sit, executing their pictures with as much consci- entious study and effort as if they had every one been Presidents. This was sound business practice as well as sound Art practice, because his skill increased just as much as if his time were full ; and when the next com- F. B. CAliPENTKK. 17 mission did come, lie w.as sure to paint better than ever before. Xor has he grown idle yet. The true ideal of the artist's industry is exactly, in Art, what the Christian's contest is in life : to labor all his life toward a perfection which he is bound to work for just as hard as if he could reach it. The eminent English painter Mulready became, in 1817, one of the instructors or ''visitors" in the "life school," or place for learning how to draw the human figure. In 1863, after holding this position for forty-six years, the old man declared — " I have, from the first moment I became a visitor in the life school, drawn there as if Iicere drawing for a prize?"* He was, too ; but it was a higher prize than any Academy could give. Sir Charles Eastlake said that Mr. Mulready was " the best and most judicious teacher the Royal Academy ever had;" and Charles Landseer said, " Perhaps neither is there now, nor at any time has there been, so great a draughtsman as Mr. Mulready." Mr. Carpenter is not yet the first painter in the world, but then he is not so old as Mulready, who was born in 1786. But his industry is as thorough in principle as that of the veteran painter ; it was only the other day that he showed a friend " Chapman's American Drawing Book," which he had under his arm, stating that he had purchased it with the inten- tion of studying it thoroughly. Mr. Carpenter's views of the ethics of Art, as well as his moral and religious sentiments generally, have always been ideally high. In youth, he conceived that the artist ought of necessity to be of the purest char- acter, and with boyish enthusiasm he resolved to en- deavor to realize in himself in some measure the union ', 2 18 • THE PICTUKE AND THE MEN. of artistic ability and moral excellence. The endeavor has consistently been made. The very endeavor enno- bles. It is the seeker himself after such high endow- ments who most dee]3ly feels the weakness of hmnan eiforts after goodness. But the high position and the spotless name which Mr. Carpenter has gained are most fully believed his just due by those wlio know him best. He is a man of wide intelligence and eorlsiderable literary ability and attainment outside of his profes- sion, and his book, " Six Months at the White House," giving the history of his stay there while at work on his great picture, is a singularly interesting one. Mr. Carpenter is of middle height, rather slender, with del- licate features, abundant straight black hair, and dark gray eyes. His voice is rather low and of agreeable tone ; and in manner he is extremely quiet, meditative, and often apparently quite absorbed in reflection or reveiy, seeming to receive impressions from persons and things around him unconsciously, rather than by keeping his intellect at work to seize them ; in short, he is a gentleman, and those who know him best love him most. THE OCCASION. 19 11. THE OCCASION. The Emancipation of the Slaves in the United States belongs to a class of events so lofty and so vast in nature and meaning, that it is an elfort to comprehend them. It has often been said that no single deed so great has been done on earth since Christ was crucified. If any can be compared with it, they are the very greatest : the Christianizing of the Roman Empire by Constantine ; the issue of Magna Charta to England ; the inauguration of the Reformation by Luther ; the Declaration of Independence. Indeed, it would be easy to show that it is linked with these in one chain of cause and effect. The last three of the series are ob- viously so related. The Declaration of Indej)endencc was the logical result of the j^rinciples of Luther put in practice by English Puritans, and announced in their political applications by the descendants and successors of those Puritans, the Continental Congress. Emanci- pation has made the United States the banner-bearer of mankind — the foremost nation in human progress — just as the Declaration did in 1776. The train of circumstances that preceded President Lincoln's Proclamation of September 22, 1862, is, of course, of great historical interest and importance. The Constitution of the United States was in its very framing put together with compromises about Slavery. 20 THE PICTUKK AND THE MEN. The first jieriod of tlie liistory of this subject comes down to about the end of the last century. During that period there was mucli opposition to slaveholding, by men of high moral nature and profound political insight, all over the country, and since business interest coincided with the moral duty of the case, there was decidedly a tendency toward a gradual dying out of the system. The second period begins with that great increase in the production of cotton which resulted from the invention and use of Whitney's cotton-gin, dating from about 1793. This increase caused slaves to grow raj>- idly more valuable, and it is a matter of course that men desire to think, and therefore tend strongly to think, that what is very profitable must be right, or at least excusable. The third period may be reckoned from the begin- ning of the abolition movement of Mr. Garrison and his associates down to the date of the Proclamation, in Avhich it culminated. The first period was that of feeble moral reprobation of slavery ; the second, that of increasing financial acquiescence in slavery; the third, that of earnest moral attack and defense of slav- ery, the financial and political aspects of it not being now the really predominant ones. In this third period came the successive excitements of the Missouri Compromise, the " incendiary docu- ment" and " gag-law" time, the " Political Abolition" time, the " Free Soil" time, the " Kansas" time, the " John Brown" time, and lastly the rebellion. The rebellion was the effort of the slave interest to take a snap judgment, so to speak, on a question which THE OCCASION. 21 the countr}^ was evidently iji a steady advance toward decidinoj on the side of freedom. And so much orijani- zation and preparation had the South, so utterly igno- rant of the scheme was the IsTorth, so strong was the combination of a united South, Northern sympathizers, and European monarchies, and so undecided and dor- mant were the convictions of very many even of the loyal Northern men, that undoubtedly the nation had a narrow escape from destruction, winning in the con- flict not merely nor even chiefly as the richest and strongest of the two warring powers, but by means of the strength of the patriotism and moral convictions that germinated and grew vigorously and fast by the stimulus of the very Are that was kindled to consume tliem. The words in which Mr. Lincoln described the occa- sion on which the Proclamation was planned and issued have all his striking and characteristic plainness, sim- plicity, directness, and graphic force. He said to Mr. Carpenter, " Things had gone on from bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing ; that we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the game." This time was the latter part of the summer of 1862, the period of the discouragement j^roduced by the " Peninsular campaign." It is true that Union suc- cesses had taken place at several points upon the outer circumference of the rebellion ; but its main body yet remained substantially untouched, and above all, its mailed head — consisting of the main army under Lee, protected by the strong and extremely defensible coun- 22 THE PICTUKE AND THE MEN. try of Northern Virginia — that mailed head which it constantly thrust out at Washington and tlie North, was still full of threatening and dangerous life. Al- though the Government had in the field in the begin- ning of that year more than 660,000 soldiers, and a navy of 246 ships, 22,000 men, and 1,892 guns, no decisive injury had yet been done to the enemy. Political opponents at home were raising an awful clamor about the inefficiency and incapacity of the Administration, and a good many even of its friends were joining in the cry. There was a very visible and growing w^eari- ness among the people, of conscriptions, of taxes, of the disordered currency, of the increasing prices of all sorts of manufactured and imported commodities. Mr. Greeley even goes so far as to say that it is doubtful whether a popular vote on giving up the fight, if taken during the year next after the issue of the Proclama- tion, would not have been affirmative. This opinion, however, is probably shaded by its author's well-known liability to look on the dark side, for the patriotism of Mr. Greeley can not be doubted. However, Mr. Blair urged to Mr. Lincoln as a reason against the Proclamation, that its issue would cause th3 loss of the fall elections ; and, sure enough, it appa- rently did. In ten States which gave Mr. Lincoln in 1860 more than 208,000 majority, the Administration candidates for State offices were beaten in the fall of 1862 by nearly 36,000. This, however, was rather the result of the hesitating non-emancipation policy of the previous two years, and its attendant ill success, than the result of the new emancipation policy, only just an- nounced, and not yet proved as an influence, in the war.. THE OCCASION-.- 23 It was the result of the old mistakes, not of the new correction. As soon as the new policy was well under- stood, and began to show its operation, there was n6 more fear of losing elections by it. It became the policy of the nation, and ceased to be a party question, just as the support of the Government had ceased to be a party question ever since Sumter was attacked. Assuredly, the people of the United States waited long enough before resolving upon universal freedom. Most undoubtedly the Proclamation was made at the right time to take the great mass of the nation with it. Any time would have been too late for extremists on one side, and too early for extremists on the other. But the deeds of Mr. Lincoln were the resolutions of the loyal people as a whole, and his course was with a sort of magnetic truth what they felt to be best. It was therefore really the people who did the acts "which the President superintended, as their chief manager. Even after the war broke out, it took nearly two years to bring the people into the conviction that emancipation must come — that this vast moral justice was absolutely indispensable, alike to free the North from its false position and to put the South in its true one — to unite and strengthen the right side and to cripple the wrong. Accordingly, the war had com- menced with the most circumspect and sj'-stematic observance of " conservative" precedent in this matter, and went on for a long time in a manner which, so far as slavery was concerned, " could not offend the feel- ings of the most fastidious" slaveholder. So cautious and conservative a statesman as Edward Everett as- serted that it was matter of grave doubt " whether 24: THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. any act of the Government of the United States was necessary to liberate the slaves in a State which is in open rebellion." Prophetic minds felt from the very first gun that the day of universal freedom was at hand. But prophetic minds are few ; national convic- tions and sentiments change very gradually ; and before emancipation could be safely made the law, an underpinning of public opinion had to "he slowly laid for it, even though thousands of millions of dollars were expended in the building, and though the struc- ture was cemented and soaked in the blood of our bravest men. In the United States, no law will ope- rate which public opinion does not support. This is true, no matter whether such law be right or wrong. It is a fundamental fact in democracies. It has been proved over and over in laws on the liquor question, and perhaps an understanding of this may have influ- enced the President's delay in the matter. However that may be, Mr. Lincoln, while personally profoundly anxious for universal freedom, was utterly immovable in the resolution to maintain the national existence within undoubted constitutional forms if possible — and persisted in this course, until, as he said, its last card had been played. This is most strongly shown in his letter to Mr. Greeley of Aug. 22, 1862, a remarkably terse and forcible statement in every possible variation of assertion, of this object. " My paramount object," he said, " is to save the Union, and not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slaves, I would do it — if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do it — and if I could do it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also THE OCCASION. 25 do that^" Mr. Seward took it for granted that tlie war would not touch the slavery question at all. In his dispatch to Minister Dayton, of April 22d, 1861, he said, with mistaken prediction, " The condition of slav- ery in the several States will remain just the same, whether it (the rebellion) succeed or fail." The inani- festo of Gen. McDowell on his fii'st entry into Vir- ginia, in July, 18G1, contained nothing that showed whether or not such a thing as slavery existed. Mc- Clellan's proclamation in West Virginia of May 26, 3 861, had before announced that he would "subdue slave insurrection with an iron hand." Gen. T. "VV. Sherman, after the victory at Port Royal, expressly dis- claimed any intention of meddling with slavery. Gen. Dix, in occupying the Eastern Shore counties of Vir- ginia, did the like, and shut his lines to fugitives from slavery ; Gen. Halleck, on succeeding Fremont in Mis- souri, did the like, and, moreover, expelled from the protection of his lines such fugitives as had already taken refuge there. Gen. Burnside published a similar disclaimer on occupying Roanoke Island; Gen. Buell in Tennessee and Kentucky, Gen. Hooker on tho upper Potomac, Gen. Williams in Louisiana, did the like, and still further, they opened their camps to slave-catchers, and officially helped them, by ordering the surrender of fugitives, and even by furnishing detachments or details to assist in the chase. Fremont's proclamation of freedom in Missouri was at once modified within the statutory limits ; Hunter's in South Carolina was promptly annulled ; Phelps' at Ship Island would have been, had not circumstances rendered it unnecessary. Kever since the creation of the world was there seen 26^ Tllli; PICTUKE AND THE MEN. any Avar before, conducted by the j^ear together, on the avowed principle and in the diligent and effective prac- tice of not touching tlie greatest source of the enemy's strengtli, of assuring him the full enjoyment of it, of carefully returning to him any of it that got away, and of helping him cliase it right through the very ranks of the extra-magnanimous belligerents. It was exerting our whole force to protect the enemy's powder-magazine. Even Vv'hen the course of events gradually forced the nation from this strange method of making war by guaranteeing the enemy, the change was made very slowly and gradually. Officers commanding in one and another locality found it a physical impossibility to dispense with the services of the negroes, and a moral impossibility to treat them otherwise than as men and freemen. Such cases multiplied in number and grew in importance for months and months, and a series of partial measures, dealing with slavery in the District of Columbia, or with slaves as contraband of war, or as subject to confiscation, or as fit material for enlistment, had successively tested the public sentiment of the country for a long time before the cautious President could determine that the hour was come for proclaiming "liberty throughout all the land." At last, however, it was time. With . true instinct, the man of the 2>eople felt that the will of the j^eople was ripe for the new policy. The furious battles of South Mountain and Antietam, and the subsequent retreat of Lee, beaten and driven over the Potomac from his first invasion of Maryland, constituted a turn in the tide of affairs which enabled the Proclamation to appear in victory instead of defeat. THE OCCASION. 27 As prompt at snatching an occasion as he was slow in matui'ing the purpose to be served, Mr. Lincoln in- stantly published the grandest utterance of the age. It Avas not, it is true, an unconditional assertion either of the rights of man, or of the freedom of any class of men. In fact, as it was worded, it gave the rebels an oppor-"' tunity of retaining the system of slavery in every Southern State ; for it was not in itself a gift of eman- cipation, but only contingent notice of emancipation at one hundred days. mr. Lincoln had no Avisli to seem to do a great action himself, nor to put forth any im- pressive phrases. It is a feature most characteristic of his simple, weighty, honest, unconscious, straight- forward nature, that in this great state paper, announc- ing a radical change in the social and political policy of the strongest nation in the world, relieving the fore- most people on earth from a social blot and- blunder which Avould have disgraced and hampered the hind- most, admitting four millions of chattels personal into the brotherhood of man, and completing for the first time the exemplification of Christian morals in the legal action of a democracy — that in doing all this, he so did it as to seem not to do it ; as to allow it to hap- pen, not at once, by the force of an actual fiat, but after three months, in the form of the obligatory fulfillment of a past promise ; and even then, not by any act of his, or even of the nation, but simply by the neglect of the persons addressed to perform the plainest duties of the citizen. For the reader of the Proclamation will see at once how entirely it throws the responsibility of the act upon the South. If the Southern States had discontinued their rebellious oriranization and resumed 28 THE nCTURE AND THE MEN. their places in Congress within the hundred days, the nation would have been bound to accept such action and appearance as a reparation in full, and to have suffered the whole fabric of slavery to remain as before, not merely upheld by the laws of each State and the entire frame of Southern society, but, as before the war, by the acquiescence and moral support of the whole United States. Doubtless, Mr. Lincoln may liave felt that there was in fact no danger of such sub- mission and return ; but the absolute disinterestedness, profound caution, sagacious foreseeing statesmanship, and lawyer-like clearness, accuracy, and safety of the drafting of the paper are none the less wonderful for that. The Proclamation does not say one word nor do one thing not absolutely necessary ; it neither discusses a principle, nor argues a case, nor expresses a feeling. It does not e^-en put forth its real and vast significance directly ; much less with ornaments of speech or large- ness of words. It is the barest, briefest notice to legal delinquents to return to duty, with a proviso of further action if they do not return. It is so arranged, that if there be a chance not to secure emancipation, the chance shall be taken ; that if the crowning glory of the century can be avoided, it shall be avoided ; that if the signer can escape the credit of freeing four mil- lions of slaves, he shall escape it ; that if the South can be induced to retain their labor system, they shall re- tain it ; that if the actual responsibility of freedom is to rest anywhere, it shall rest upon the rebel slaveholders themselves. It embodies the utter abnegation of per- scmal merit or emotion ; the entire avoidance of conti'o- versy upon either any principle in doctrine or any THE OCCASION. 29 ma torial interest or association of human beings ; it is the simple, plain statement of one future fact, miless there shall happen another future fact. And notwith- standing all this guarded negation of statement and conditional assertion, yet such Avere the aspects of the war in the field, and of the public opinion of the North, that these two gigantic forces, embodying the moral sum total of the United States for the time beimr, in- spired into the words of this plain short paper that whole and complete and immense meaning which has rendered it immortal. 81 »3 o c8 t-> ^ •5 n '^• 1 So ^ a 'go ^ c .3 c P W '5 fi vj s" d .2 (=1 o O OJ -S i d c 1 a S d i 75 1 1 Q d c o p <1 c §: o o .2 O 'j5 «2 2 CD 1 6 cT o 1 02 1 1 o O J33 3 1^ 'S s ^ 'an t^ ^M k^ 3 r- 1 1 1 (2 ^^ To t- ^ c ■v5 H o o T-J ci CO '>*' lO o i- CO T-( r-l ■^ ■^ '"i '"' rH ^ 6 S -^ r-T •5* - ^ F3 ;!, e o tH (N 03 -^ JO O t^ c b c3 a o CQ tf M w *^ CO '.5 ^ k! .S P-. 32 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. III. THE PICTURE. TuE original conception of Mr. Carpenter's great picture is due to liis profound loyalty to the United States, his fervent devotion to Freedom, his deep exul- tation when the issue of the Great Proclamation an- nounced that Slavery was Abolished, his strong desire to execute some work within the field of his ait which should express his appreciation of the questions of the war, and the nation's action upon them, and his hon- orable ambition to associate his own name and reputa- tion with an occasion so glorious. The artist thus de- scribes his own first clear conception of the time and sentiment of his picture, in his " Six Months at the "White House :" " The long-prayed-for year of jubilee had come ; the bonds of the oppressed were loosed ; the prison doors were opened. ' Behold,' said a voice, ' how a man may be exalted to a dignity and glory almost divine, and give freedom to a race ! Surely Ait should unite with Eloquence and Poetry to celebrate such a theme.' I conceived of that band of men upon whom the eyes of the.world centred as never before upon ministers of state, gathered in council, depressed, perhaps disheart- ened at the vain efforts of many months to restore the supremacy of the Government. I saw, in thoughl, the head of the nation, bowed down with his weight of THE nCTURE. 33 care and responsibility, solemnly announcing, as he un- folded the prepared draft of the Proclamation, that the time for the inauguration of this policy had arrived ; I endeavored to imagine the conflicting emotions of satis- faction, doubl, and distrust with which such an an- nouncement would be received by men of the varied characteristics of the assembled councilors." This was in the end of the year 1863, the first day of which had witnessed the issuing of the Supplemen- tary Proclamation announcing the fulfillment of the promise. For some weeks the painter, after his man- ner, brooded silently over his design. Gradualiy the group assumed in his imagination such a form and arrangement as satisfied his conception of what the assembly must have been. Mr. Carpenter is not v/ith, out a decided tendency toward those lofty realms of human aspiration and emotional thought, the mystical and the supernatural ; and he records a coincidence in the matter of adjusting his design which is sufl[iciently striking. "In seeking a point of unity or action for the picture," he says, " I was impressed with the con- viction that important modifications followed the read- ing of the Proclamation at the suggestion of the Secre- tary of State, and I determined upon such an incident as the moment of time to be represented. I was sub- sequently surprised and gratified when Mr. Lincoln himself, reciting the history of the Proclamation to me, dwelt particularly upon the fact, that not only was the time of its issue decided by Secretary Seward's advice, but that one of the most important words in the docu- ment was added through his strenuous representa- tions." 34 THE PICTURE AND THE JIEN. The design thus determined, it remainecl to execute it, and Mr. Carpenter first consulted Mr. Samuel Sin- clair, now publisher of the N. Y. Tribune, upon the means of interesting in the scheme Messrs. Schuyler Colfax and Owen Lovejoy, who should, in their turn, influence their personal and political friend the Presi. dent. This shrewd little piece of wire-pulling succeed- ed, for Mr. Sinclair, being the very next week in Wash- ington, went with Mr. Colfax to Mr. Lincoln, explained the plan, and without much difliculty obtained his assent. The road was now clear for the execution of the am- bitious scheme of the artist ; but how was he to travel in it ? " Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges ?" — and besides, he had not the means for such unscriptural expenditure, even were he so anti-biblical as to make it. A second coincidence attended the solution of the difficulty. He left home one morning, pondering deeply upon the financial lion in his path ; and contriving and rejecting, Avith increasing discour- agement, one expedient after another, he reached the door of the building where his studio was established, and was about to enter. At that moment he happened to observe a gentleman who was intently examining some pictures in a shop window. Something familiar in the air of the figure attracted the artist, and when in a few moments the gazer turned round, it proved to be Frederick A. Lane, Esq., an old acquaintance who, five years before, had lived near Mr. Carpenter in Brooklyn, and, like him, had at that time been strug- gling hard for a living, though in the dry path of law, instead of the supposed more flowery ways of Art. Mr. Carpenter asked Mr. Lane up into his studio, THE nCTUKE. 35 and there was some comparing of old reminiscences and late experiences. The laAvyer had prospered in business and in purse ; the artist was still poor. Sud- denly the sensitive painter was stirred with the thought that this meeting was " providential." A less sponta- neous man would have reckoned this a mere conceit, and would have reasoned away from it. But the men- tal constitution of an artist has often much of the same quickness of intuition and instinctive reliance ujjon it, which is usually attributed to women. Mr. Carpen- ter at once briefly laid before his visitor his whole sclieme. Mr. Lane quietly heard him through. " Are you sure of Mr. Lincoln's consent and co-operation ?" he asked. The painter told him of the promise which Messrs. Sinclair and Colfax had received. " Then," said this liberal friend, " you shall paint the picture. Take plenty of time. Make it the great work of your life ; and draw upon me for whatever funds you will require to the end." On the 4th of February, 1864, Mr. Carpenter went to. Washington, and calling next day upon Hon. Owen Lovejoy, obtained a note of introduction to Mr. Lincoln. After waiting in vain for two days for an opportunity to present it, the artist at last went up to the White House on the afternoon of Saturday, and taking his place in what the French call the " tail" of citizens who were filing past the patient President, each shaking hands and uttering some observation as they went, like so many customers popping their letters into some crowded post-office window, he took his turn, and was named to Mr. Lincoln. After a moment's recollection, Mr. Lincoln said, "O yes, I know — this is the painter;" 36 THE PICTUKE AND THE MEN. and standing up as tall as lie could — which was much — he added, with a queer look, "Jo you think, Mr. Carpenter, that you can make a handsome picture of me /"' The painter was taken aback at this very direct query, and too polite to say No, and too honest to say Yes, he answered at random, coming, however, enough to the point to ask if he could have a private interview after the reception. " I reckon !" was the reply of the Executive, as he went gravely on again with his pump- handling. When this tiresome ceremony was over, the painter was admitted to the President's office, where Mr. Lin- coln was already hard at work signing acts of Con- gress. He gave his visitor a seat, and received and read Mr. Lovejoy's note of introduction. Then, taking off his spectacles, he turned to the artist and said, in his char- acteristic way, " Well, Mr. Carpenter, we will turn yoit in loose here" — as if the painter were a harmless sort of beast, safe in pasture without " poke" or " hobbling" — " and try to give you a good chance to work out your idea." It is curious to consider how many of the rulers of the earth would have thus assented to an artist's proposal for a great historical picture of one of the turning-points in human progress, in a sentence of twenty-one words (not counting the name of the per- son spoken to), all monosyllables but one, and express- ing their thought with a metaphor accurate, forcible, £fnd taken from the pasture and the oxen. The enthusiastic artist began to express as well as he could, one or another lofty idea of his intended work. The President paid little attention to this, but after his fashion went straight to the root of the matter THE riCTTJEE. 37 and proceeded to give his auditor a history of the cir- cumstances. "VYe transcribe Mr. Lincoln's own words as given by Mr. Carpenter.* "It had got to be midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from bad to woi-se, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the game. I now determined upon the adoption of the emancipation policy; and without consultation w^ith or the knowledge of the Cabinet, I prepared the origi- nal draft of the proclamation, and, after much anxious tliought, called a Cabinet meeting upon the subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of August, 1862, This Cabinet meeting took place upon a Satur- day. All were present, excepting Mr. Blair, the post- master-general, who was absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subsequently. I said to the Cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject-matter of a proclamation before them ; sug- gestions as to which would be in order after they had heard it read. Mr. Lovejoy was in error when he in- formed you [viz., Mr. Carpenter, at a previous time] that it excited no comment, excepting on the part of Secretary Seward. Various suggestions were offered. Secretary Chase wished the language stronger in refer- ence to the arming of the blacks ; Mr. Blair, after he came in, deprecated the policy on the ground that it would cost the Administration the fall elections. t * Six Months at the White House, pp. 20, 21, 22. 6b THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. Nothing, however, was offered that I had not fully anticipated and settled in my own mind, until Secretary Seward spoke. He said in substance : ' Mr. President, I approve of the proclamation, but I question the expe- diency of its issue at this juncture. The depression of the public mind, consequent upon our repeated reverses, is so great that I fear the effect of so important a step. It may be viewed as the last measure of an exhausted government ; a cry for help ; the government stretch- ing forth its hands to Ethiopia, instead of Ethiopia stretching forth her hands to the Government.' His idea was, that it would be considered our last shriek on the retreat. 'Now,' continued Mr. Seward, 'while I approve the measure, I suggest, sir, that you postpone its issue until you can give it to the country supported by military success, instead of issuing it, as would be the case now, upon the greatest disasters of the war.' The wisdom of the view of the Secretary of State struck me with very great force. It was an aspect of the case that, in all my thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked. The result was that I put the proclamation aside, as you do your sketch for a picture, waiting for a victory. From time to time I added or changed a line, touching it up here and there, anxiously watching the progress of events. Well, the next news we had was of Pope's disaster at Bull Rnn. Things looked darker than ever. Finally came the week of the battle of Antietam. I determined to wait no longer. The news came, I think, on Wednesday, that the advantage Avas on our side. I was then stay- ing at the Soldiers' Home. Here I finished writing the second draft of the preliminary proclamation; came up THE PICTURE. 39 on Saturday; called the Cabinet together to hear it, and it was published the following Monday." At the final meeting of September 20th, another in- teresting incident occurred in connection with Secretary Seward. The President had Avritten the important part of the proclamation in these words : " That, on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thence- forward, and forever free ; and the Executive Govern- ment of the United States, including the military and naval authority tJiereof, will recognize the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any eiForts they may make for their actual ft-eedom." " When I finished reading this paragraph," resumed Mr. Lincoln, " Mr. Seward stopped me, and said, ^ I think, ]Mi'. President, that you should insert after the w^ord " reco^nz^^," in that sen- tence, the words " and maintain.'''' ' " I replied that I had already fully considered the import of that expres- sion in this connection, but I had not introduced it, be- cause it was not my way to promise what I was not entirely sure that I could perform, and I was not pre- pared to say that I thought we were exactly able to * maintain' this." " But," said he, *' Seward insisted that we ought to take this ground ; and the words finally went in !" Mr. Lincoln, having finished this account, explained in detafl how the Cabinet and he were grouped at that meeting ; and when the artist sliowed the Prcsi- 40 THE PICTUKE AND .THE MEN. dent a pencil sketch of the i)icture as he had already- planned it, it was found altogether in accordance with the facts, except that the whole composition had to be turned end for end, in order to put Mr. Lincoln at the right place, by the table. The remaining necessary details of sketching were now promptly completed ; the painter's easel was set up in the library, but shortly removed to the state dining-room, where the work was finished. The painter was in- good earnest " turned in loose," for he was, during the succeeding six months, on terms almost as intimate with Mr. Lincoln as were the President's own private secretaries. He went and came at pleasure, sat in Mr. Lincoln's private office while confidential business was transacting, and when any one looked suspiciously toward him, the President would say, " Oh, you needn't mind him — he is a painter." From time to time the President and the members of the Cabinet gave sittings for their respective portraits, chatting easily and freely with the companionable artist on all manner of topics, and exchanging all sorts of • reminiscences, stories, reasonings, and opinions. Frequently visitors at the White House came to ob- serve the progress of the great picture ; at other times friends of the artist, sometimes brought in by Mr. Lincoln. The industry of the artist was unfailing and ardent. His relaxation even was part of his work, for it con- sisted almost entirely of cultivating a more perfect acquaintance with the men whom he was to paint. All day he worked at his designing, sketching, or paint- ing, and all day .was not enough. When night fell, he THE ricrrKE. 41 lighted u]) the great chandelier of the room, and often labored straight onward, unconscious of the passage of time, until the morning light found him still brush in hand before the immense canvas, and drove him away by spoiling the tone of the gas-light. At the end of a half year the work was complet- ed, and the President and Cabinet, at the close of a business session, adjourned to the temporary studio, to hold a formal critical session upon the great pic- ture. Sitting in the midst of his chief assistants, Mr. Lincoln pronounced what he called his " unschooled" opinion of the work, in words which Mr. Carpenter has not put on record, but which, he says, " could not but have afforded the deepest gratification to any artist." For two days before being removed, the picture was now exhibited freely to the public, in the East Room, several thousands of persons crowding in to see it on each day. On the last afternoon, the Presi- dent and the painter went together to have a last look at the work before it was rolled up for removal. Mr. Lincoln sat down before the picture and gazed silently at it. Mr. Carpenter remarked that he had worked oxit his idea, and asked for Mr. Lincoln's final suggestions and criticism. " There is little to find fault with," was the reply ; " the portraiture is the main thing, and that seems to me absolutely perfect." They discussed the various accessories : the war maps, the portfolios, the map showing the distribution of slaves in the South, the book leaning against the leg of the chair, which was painted as if bound in " law calf." The title placed upon this was that of a work which Mr. Lincoln had used in preparing his proclamation — Whiting's " War ■ 4:2 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. Powers of the President," — and this not "being a law book, the President requested that the coloring of the cover be changed accordingly. " Is there anything else that you would like changed or added ?" asked the painter. " No," was the reply, and the President continued, repeating the very expression Avhicli he had used on examining the first sketch, " It is as good as it can be made." The painter took the opportunity to describe the enthusiastic feelings with which he had first thought of the picture, and in which he had labored upon it, and to thank Mr. Lincoln for his constant kindness in all their intercourse. Mr. Carpenter adds, " He listened l^ensively — almost j^assively, to me — his eyes fastened upon the picture. As I finished, he turned, and in his simple-hearted, earnest way said, * Carpenter, I believe I am about as glad over the success of this work as you are.' And with these words in my ear, and a cordial ' good-bye' grasp of the hand, President and painter separated." A single incident in the subsequent history of the picture may be mentioned here, which has the interest that always attaches to premonitions and signs, and illustrates Mr. Lincoln's personal popularity. Mr. Carpenter's picture was exhibited in the Rotunda of the Capitol during a few days just before Mr. Lincoln's second inauguration, and while it was being secured in its j^lace, a number of persons were looking at it, among whom w^as a policeman of the Capitol squad. All at once a stray sunbeam glanced through the dome and settled full upon the face of the portrait of Mr. Lincoln, the rest of the picture remaining in sliadow. It was a THE PICTURE. 43 stailliiig effect. The policeman pointed to it, exclaim- ing, " Look ! that is as it should be, God bless him ! may the sun shine on his head forever !" Mr. Carpenter's great picture, of whose conception and execution the foregoing is a brief account, repre- sents the Cabinet of Mr. Lincoln grouped around their chief as they stood or sat when he read the Proclama- tion to them. It shows their ordinary costume and their manner of carrying themselves ; and the table, the chairs, the room and all its fittings and furniture of every kind, are represented without ornament or addi- tion, exactly as they were at the time. The artist's friends frequently told him that his picture w^ould look barren and commonplace unless he put in some urns, pillars, curtains, tassels, velvet table-cloths, American eagles, banners of our country, geniuses of liberty, or other unmeaning symbols not there ; but he as often re- plied, with great good sense and correct feeling, that he would rather fail, while on the side of truth, by painting the scene as it actually was, than to succeed by doing what would be actual falsehood. He justly felt that he had no more right to vary from the facts in the case, than a rebel historian would have to assert that Mr. Lincoln assassinated J. Wilkes Booth. The interest of the scene, the truthfulness of its representation — these were the only means which he chose to use for produc- ing an impression, and in thus choosing he was true to his own principles and to those of real Art. " Art," to use Mr. Carpenter's own words, " should aim to em- body and express the spirit and best thought of its own age." To this end, when men and their actions are painted, the men should be delineated, clothed, placed. 44 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. and circumstanced as they actually were ; not as the painter may fancy it most impressive to imagine them. Greenough's statue of Wasliington, in the Capitol grounds, which Attorney-General Bates called " a very good representation of Jupiter Tonans," is a terrible instance of the opposite of Mr. Carpenter's idea. This statue represents the Father of his Country seated in the open air, and clothed in a sheet swathed round him so as to leave him naked, or nearly so, from about the waist upward — a costume in which General Washing- ton never appeared in public. To put our first Presi- dent into a garb which' was an imaginary one eighteen hundred years ago, is exactly such a blunder, only the other end foremost, as that which a Dutch painter com- mitted in painting Abraham on Mount Moriah, draw- ing a fine bead on Isaac with a horse-pistol, for the purpose of sacrificing him. Mr. C/arpenter had too much sense and tact to fall into any such errors of time, or errors of association either ; and the very simplicity and plainness of the furniture and fittings in his picture constitute an important part of its value, because they are an important part of its truth. A century from this time it will be very interesting to know that thus these men were dressed, and thus was their council held, and their council-room furnished. But a fluted pillar, a red curtain, an immense vase, could have in such a place no meaning, purpose, or interest what- ever, except to show the shallowness, ignorance, and conventionality of the artist. The arrangement of the persons in this picture was such as to throw them into two groups, which may be called radical and conservative, the former composed of THE riCTUEE. 45 Messrs. Cliasc and Stanton ; the latter of Messrs. Sew- ard, AVelles, Bates, Blair, and Smith. Mr. Lincoln sits between them, as if in the place of a point of union, but still nearest to the radicals. The positions of the individual men are further symbolical. Secretary Stanton, representing the military force of the Govern- ment, is at the President's right hand, in the foreground, and Secretary Chase, in behalf of the public j)urse, stands by his side. Secretary AYelles, of the Navy, is at his left, and a little in the background, the navy being secondary to the army in importance in the struggle. And Secretary Seward, holding what is often called the premiership or prime-ministership, and by etiquette having precedence of the rest of the Cabinet, is accordingly placed in the center foreground. With hand partly spread and forefinger extended, Mr. Seward emphasizes his approval of the Proclamation to which he has just listened, but suggests that it " be postponed until it can be supported by military suc- cess." At the opposite or left-hand end of the table Attorney-General Bates, his arms folded, is thinking steadily upon the new questions of constitutional law which this Proclamation will call up ; and Secretary Smith and Postmaster-General Blair stand together near him. The " still-life" or accessory portion of the picture is also fully furnished with meaning. Over the mantle-piece is the portrait of Andrew Jackson, who, after smashing nullification, prophesied that the South would attack the Government again, and that the pretext would be slavery; as if he were here present in the spirit to wit- ness the death-stroke of tlie enemy whose work he fore- 4:6 ' THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. told in the flesh. Behind Mr. Chase is the picture of Secretary Stanton's predecessor in office, Simon Cam- eron, who was the first member of the Cabinet to avow the radical belief as to what should be done with the negro in the war. On the table before the President lies a parchn^ent . copy of the Constitution. Behind Mr. Seward is a portfolio marked " Commissions : War Department." »Above this, on the table, is a map marked " Seat of War in Virginia," and another, leaning against the table, shows the density of the slave population in the various parts of the South. In the foreground is Judge Whiting's strongly argued book on the " War Powers of the President ;" by its side, open on the floor, lies Story's " Comment-aries on the Consti- tution," and in a corner is a newspaper, to remind the spectator of the newspaper press, and its great influ- ence in the cause of emancipation. Mr. Carpenter's work is truly a historical painting. It represents the significant point and moment of a historical event of the very highest importance. It does this by placing permanently on record the faces and forms of the men who did the work, as they gathered and consulted over the crisis. And this it accomplishes wath the clearness, the largeness, the thoughtful truth and impressive moral power that be- long to unafiected simplicity and strict and conscien- tious adherence to fact. Besides the technical profes- sional value of the work as a specimen of composition, drawing, and color ; besides its even higher value as a collection of faithful and successful portraits, it has and always will have the very much greater value of an impressive and expressive monument to the enfranchise- THE riCTUEE. 47 meiit of the negroes from slavery, and the greater en- franchisement of the United States of America from sustaining slavery. It remains to bring the history of Mr. Carpenter's great work down to the present time (December, 1866). After being finished, the pictm-e was exhibited to the public in New York and Boston, and also in many of the Western cities, with very great success. Previous to the opening of the exhibition in New York, upon the arrival .of the picture from Washington, while re- touching some injuries and remedying some defects in minor details, Mr. Car2:>enter worked upon it for thirty- siji: hours without intermission — a remarkable feat of physical and mental endurance ; and, it may be added, a violation of natural laws for which he subsequently suffered the penalty in a sickness which came near proving fatal. In Chicago and Milwaukie the picture was exhibited for the benefit of the Sanitary Commission, fairs in those two cities netting handsome sums in each place. The re-nomination, re-election, and re-inauguration of Mr. Lincoln for his second term aided from time to time in maintaining popular interest in the picture. While it was at Pittsburg the assassination of Mr. Lin- coln took place, and public interest in this imj^ressive portrait of himself and his constitutional advisers, one of whom, Mr. Seward, was also a victim to the conspir- acy, rose to such a pitch that, once at least, the doors of the exhibition room had actually to be closed, so un- governable was the pressure. For about a year from September, 1865, the picture was stored in Mr. Carpen- ter's studio. In the summer of 1866 the artist retouched 4:8 THE ncTURE and the mejn. and cleaned it, and j)laced it on exhibition for a couple of days in Ins native town, Homer, N. Y. The fellow- townsmen of the painter, and the people of the vicinity for miles around, crowded the exhibition room, and the artist enjoyed the peculiar satisfaction of the prophet who does attain honor in his own country. It may interest the reader to know how so large a canvas (it is fourteen feet six inches long by nine feet in height) can be safely transj)orted about the country. This is accomplished by means of joints in the frame at top and bottom, which allow the picture to fold over upon itself from each end, thus reducing it within man- ageable dimensions. Creasing is prevented by laying a light and softly covered roller within the canvas at each folding place, and the whole being firmly screwed together and boxed, it travels in perfect security. Soon after the completion of the j^icture, Mr. A. H. Ritchie, of Kew York, the celebrated engraver, was engaged to reproduce it upon steel, in the highest style of the art. To fiicilitate this j^urpose Mr. Carpenter painted a small copy of his large painting, of the exact size of the proposed engraving — twenty-one by thirty- three inches. The engraver had nearly completed his work, after more than a year's constant labor, when the building containi«g his office was consumed by fire. The plate was saved through the wise precaution of Mr. J. C. Derby, w^ho was interested in its publication, in having it stored nights in a fire-proof building ; but the small copy of the large painting, valued at $2,500, was destroyed. This gave rise to a false report, widely circulated, that the original painting was lost ; this, unin- jured, still remains in the possession of Mr. Carpenter. THE riGTDKE. 49 Sympathizing, as Mr. Ritchie did, in the aim and object of Mr. Carpenter's great work, he carried into his en- graving from it something of the same enthusiasm with which Mr. Carpenter was himself inspired. The result is an engraving which has been pronounced by high authority the finest work of its class ever produced in this country, and thus is placed within the reach of every loyal household in the land a treasure which must become more and more valuable with the lapse of time and the increasing gloiy of the republic. 50 THE nCTUEE AND THE MEN. IV. LINCOLN. Abraham Lincoln was born February 12, 1809, in what was then Hardin, now Larue, County, Kentucky, on Nolen Creek. His earliest ancestor who can be determined, moved from Berks County, Pa., to Rock- ingham County, Virginia, in 1750. Thirty years after- ward, Abraham Lincoln, the President's grandfather, moved to Floyd's Creek, in Bullitt County, Ky., where he was killed by an Indian. His widow 6(^on remov- ed to Washington County. Her son Thomas mar- ried, in 1 806, Nancy Hanks, a Virginian, and the couple moved to Hardin County, where Abraham was born. The boy was born to poverty and hard work. In 1816 he obtained a very little schooling, but it quickly ended, for the next year his father removed to Spencer County, Indiana, an unsettled region, where he built a log cabin. When Abraham was ten years of age his mother died. Although all his school-days together barely amount- ed to six months' time, still he worked at his stud- ies until he could not only read, but could write let- ters, which made him quite a sage, and often a scribe (but never a Pharisee), among his neighbors. At nineteen, young Lincoln, with a companion, took a flatboat-load of produce to New Orleans and sold it. During the down trip the two navigators beat oif seven negroes who attacked them with the design of capturing boat and cargo. In 1830 his father moved LINCOLN. 61 again, to Macon County ; next year the young man made a second flatboat voyage to New Orleans, managing so •well that the owner who sent him employed him as clerk and manager of a flour-mill. In 1832 young Lin- coln enlisted as a volunteer in the Black Haw^k war, and was chosen captain of his company, serving faith- fully, though he saw no actual fighting. Just after the war he made his first entry into politics, by Tun- ing for the State Legislature, as a Clay man in opposi- tion to Jackson, and was beaten (the only time) in a con- test before the people. In his own precinct, however, he received 277 votes, out of the 284 cast. He now opened a store, and got the postmastership of the vil- lage, but had to sell out ; then tried surveying, but became embarrassed again in 1837, and his instruments were sold by the sheriff in execution. He had always spent what time he could in reading and study ; and he now gave up the idea of business, and went to read- ing law, with a view to a legal and political career. Beginning in 1834, he was elected to the State Legis" lature for four successive two-year terms, during which he gained considerable rej^utation as a speaker and a sensible man of business. In 1836 he was admitted to the bar, and in 1837 he settled in Springfield. At the end of his fourth legislative term, in 1842, he declined a re-nomination, in order to bring up his law studies ; and in the same year he married Mary Todd, daughter of Hon. Robert G. Todd, of Lexington, Ky. In 1844 he stumped Illinois and part of Indiana, for Henry Clay, and in 1846 he was elected to Congress — the only Whig from Illinois — and by the startling majority of 1,511, where Henry Clay had only had 914 votes. 62 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. While in Congress, with constitutional discrimination about principles, he voted for all supplies needed to carry on the Mexican war, but always refused to vote that the war had been justly begun. He was a dele- gate to the convention which nominated Gen. Taylor, in 1848, and labored hard in canvassing for him. Dur- ing this congressional term, Mr. Lincoln had frequently occasion to vote on questions involving slavery, and always voted for freedom. In January, 1849, he moved a bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, but it was too soon for public opinion, and the bill failed. The Wilmot Proviso was often before the House, in consequence of efforts to apply it to recently acquired territory, and as Mr. Lincoln afterward said, he voted for it, " in one way or another, about forty times." At the end of this session, in March, 1849, Mr. Lin- coln declined a re-nomination ; and was during the year beaten as Whig candidate for United States Senator from Illinois. He now passed a number "of years at home, practicing his profession, and enjoying an increasing reputation as a lawyer and politician. During this time he invented his " camels," or machine for carrying a ship over bars or obstructions, of which a model is to be seen at the Patent Office in Washing- ton. This consisted of a couple of large cases that could be inflated somewhat after the fashion of a bel- lows. These were to be sunk empty, secured under the vessel, and then filled with air, so as to lift the ship. The Nebraska Bill was passed May 22, 1854, and in the following autumn the Illinois Legislature was to choose a United States Senator in place of Gen. Shields, LINCOLN. 53 who had voted with Douglas for the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. It was important that Judge Douglas' own State should indorse his course, and he went himself into this canvass. So did Mr. Lincoln on the other part, and with the better fortune. He met Douglas in public debate, and it was generally- conceded on both sides that he decidedly gained the advantage of him, powerful debater as he was. The result of the canvass was accordingly the election of an anti-Nebraska legislature, and the choice of that able man and unswerving friend of freedom, Hon. Lyman Trumbull, for United States Senator. Mr. Trumbull liad been a Democrat ; and Mr. Lincoln having been a Whig, the friends of the latter were disposed to contest this choice, and to insist that Mr. Lincoln should be Senator. But with self-denying wisdom, he used his own personal influence to carry the votes of his friends to Mr. Trumbull, and thus secured his election. Mr. Lincoln's reputation was becoming national at the time of the Fremont and Buchanan campaign, and he had 110 votes for the nomination as Vice-President with Fremont, standing next to Mr. Dayton, who was the nominee. By this time Mr. Lincoln and Mr. .Douglas were the recognized leaders, in Illinois, on the two sides of the great political controversy of the day. As Mr. Ray- mond says, in his "Life of Lincoln," "Whenever Mr. Douglas made a speech, the people instinctively an- ticipated a reply from Mr. Lincoln." In June, 1 85 7, Mr. Douglas made, at Springfield, that speech which publicly committed him to the support of the Lecompton Con- stitution and of the Dred Scott decision. Mr. Lincoln, 54: THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. two weeks afterward, replied in a speech at tlie same place, and these speeches were a sort of preface to the famous series of Lincoln-Douglas debates the next year, wliich firmly established Mr. Lincoln's reputation as a wise and just politician, and as a powerful speaker and skillful and ready debater. The two combatants were in that year candidates for the United States sen- atorship, to be determined by the Legislature then to be chosen. On one hand, Mr. Douglas' fortunes were staked on the election, because if his own State would not continue him in the Senate, he would evidently not be available on his intended further road as a Presiden- tial candidate. And on the other hand, the Republi- cans of Illinois felt it supremely important to register the powerful voice of their great State in favor of free- dom, and against the oppressive measures forced on the citizens of Kansas. Each of the candidates had already pretty well defined his position, as they had spoken thrice each in June and July of that year (1858); when, on July 24, Mr. Lincohi challenged Mr. Douglas to meet him in a seiies of public debates dur- ing the pending campaign. Mr. Douglas, after a cor- respondence wliich indicates some reluctance to venture on the contest, offered a programme of seven debates, in four of which he was to have the opening and closing turns, Mr. Lincoln to have them only in the other three. But Mr. Lincoln, confident in- his own plain, keen, and weighty reasoning, and straightforward, clear, common sense, and in the overwhelming justice and rightfulness of his cause, readily accepted the proposition, and the meetings were held. The seven places of meethiq; were in as many diflTer- LINCOLN. 55 ent portions of the State, and the series of debates caused a very deep and genuine excitement. Each party greeted and welcomed and " celebrated^' its champion by the ordinary means of marching in long rows, wav- ing flags, employing brass bands, shouting, and firing of cannon. But these common and cheap manifestations were underlaid and intensified into a real meaning, by the confidence of each party in its champion, by a keen enjoyment on the part of the audience of every good point on a principle, and every successful hit at the opponent, and still more by the profound conviction everywhere felt that the rights of man and the foim- dation principles of American civilization were really in dispute. The result of the canvass was, that on the popular vote, the Republican vote was 4,144 more than that of Douglas ; but so shrewdly had the State been districted in the Democratic interest, that that party had a working majority in the Legislature, and Mr. Doudas was elected Senator. If Mr. Lincoln had sue- ceeded, doubtless he would not afterward have become President. The Presidential election, of November, 1860, was approaching. As early as in February of that year Mr. Lincoln was invited by the New York Young Men's Republican Club to speak in that city on the political issues of the times. This he did, at Cooper Institute, Feb. 2'7th; delivering a sj^eech full of wisdom, knowledge, and unanswerable political and statesman- like reasoning. That speech especially, in connection also with those afterward delivered in New England, gave Mr. Lincoln as higli a reputation nt the East as he had at the West. 56 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. The consequence of these speeches was undoubtedly that Mr. Lincoln was at least the second choice of the Chicago Convention from the start. He was nominated for President at Chicago on Friday, May 18, 1860, was elected Xov. 6, 1860, was re-elected in Nov., 1864, and having led the country successfully through the most powerful and dangerous rebellion of the world's history, was assassinated by J. Wilkes Booth on the evening of Friday, April 14th, 1865, and died early the next morning. It is unnecessary to attempt here any formal ac- count of Mr. Lincoln's actions while President, or of that vast expression of national mourning which attended his funeral corterpe from Washington to Springfield. The fiicts of the war, the facts of that unprecedented funeral, are sufficiently known. The purpose of the present sketch will be better served by an arrangement of some reminiscences and anecdotes of the man, so treated as to form an illustration of the principal points in his character. Mr. Lincoln, as President of the United States, bore a load of responsibility and of difficulty beyond all comparison greater than was ever imposed not only upon any other President, but upon any other citizen of the United States as such. His vexations and per- plexities find no parallel in our national history, except in those of Washington, as commander-in-chief and dictator during the Revolution. The great picture which this little book is meant to illustrate, commem- orates the act which Avas the central and crownhig one of Mr. Lincoln's official life, and he occupies by right the central place in the picture, his face wearing a LINCOLN. 57 characteristic expression of patience, melancholy, kind- ness, and perhaps a faint touch of humor. In. his hand he holds the draft of the Emancipation Proclamation, which he has just read to the assembled Cabinet ; and thoughtful and intent, he is listening with surprised interest — for he had never thought of the point before — to the weighty suggestion of Secretary Seward to wait for a victory. The chief significance of Mr. Lincoln as a historical personage depends on his being a wonderfully true rep- resentative of the American character — that is, of the character of the American of the Northwest ; for that region at this day controls the United vStates. It is as a representative man that he will possess the most just fame, and accordingly it is interesting to observe how the leading traits in his character as an individual cor- respond to the leading traits in our national character. HONESTY. A Mr. Crawford lent Mr. Lincoln, when a boy, a copy of Weems' " Life of Washington," which lie was eagerly reading in the intervals of his labor. He left it through one stormy night so near the chinky wall of the log cabin, that the rain drove in upon it, soaked the book, and quite ruined its looks. Abraham was entirely without money, but with a natural rectitude perhaps equal to that of the hero of the spoiled volume, he promptly carried it to Mr. Crawford, showed it, told how the harm happened, and offered to work out the damage. Crawford, with good judgment, gave the honest little fellow the book, in return for-three days' work at pulling fodder ; and the incident gained him 58 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. the lastins: esteem of the Crawfords and of the neiirh- borhood. An entirely similar mixture of rectitude and inde- pendence of character was shown in the account given by Pollard Simmons about a county survey. Simmons, it appears, met Genei^al Ewing (in charge of the United States Surveys in the Northwest Territory), while Mr. Lincoln was a needy young man, and asked for a job for him. The General looked into his papers, and said that such a county needed surveying; Mr. Lincoln might do that ; the pay would be ^600. Simmons, in great delight, told young Lincoln the great news as soon as he got home, and was astounded to hear him reply that he didn't think he would undertake the job. " In the name of wonder, why ?" asked poor Simmons ; " six hundred dollars doesn't grow on every bush out here in Illinois !'* *' I know that," was the answer, " and I need the money bad enough, Simmons, as you know ; but I never have been under obligations to a Demo- cratic administration, and I never intend to be as long as I can get my living another way. General Ewing must find another man to do his work." When Mr. Lincoln Avas a practicing lawyer, a post- office agent came in one day and asked for him. On finding him, the agent said he wanted to collect a sum of money due the Department since the office at "New Salem was discontinued. Mr. Lincoln — for he was the ex-postmaster of New Salem — looked a little puzzled, and a friend who was present, seeing this, offered to furnish the money, but Mr. Lincoln, suddenly rising, went and fished out a little old trunk from a pile of books, and asked the agent what was the amount of LINCOLN. 59 his demand. The man told it — it was over seventeen dollars. Mr. Lincoln unlocked the trunk, took out a parcel of coin done up in a rag, opened it, count- ed it, and handed it to the agent. It was the exact sum. " I never use any man's money except my own," said Mr. Lincoln, when the agent had left. Though ho Iiad passed through much poverty and privation since leaving the post-office, he had always had that money ready in the rag. He found no difficulty in apj)lying his principle to the famous lawyer's problem, of " How to do right when you know your client is in the wrong." On this point Mr. Lincoln seems never to have satisfied himself with the common arguments that " the client may be right after all ; that every man has a right to have his side stated as well as it can be, and the other client will have his side stated so ; that the best plan for the judge or jury is to have the two sides each stated at their best, each without reference to the other." ThesQ reasonings, which lead easily to sophistications, tricks, and lies, Mr. Lincoln never relished ; and his less squeamish colleagues used to say that he was even " perversely honest." It was perfectly well known that if he found liimself on the wrong side, his help was worth little. He could not jjut his heart into an unjust cause. He would never engage on the wrong side if he could find it out, but made it a rule to deter- mine the right and wrong of the case before taking it up, and if the client was wrong, he refused the work and the fee, and told the applicant that he had no case, and ought not to go to law. Clients will sometimes fool their own lawyers and deceive them about the case. 60 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. Mr. Lincoln was once or twice so dealt with; but even in the middle of the suit, if the testimony revealed such a fact, the whole audience could see Mr. Lincoln's interest in his case fall and die, and the rest of his labor in it was merely fonnal. On one such occasion, where he had an associate counsel, Mr. Lincoln promptly in- formed him that he should not make the argument in the case ; the associate made it, won the cause, receiv- ed the fee — nine hundred dollars — and offered Mr. Lin- coln his share. The upright lawyer would not touch a cent of it. He was once defending a person who had delivered certain lambs where sheep were contracted fca\ This fact did not appear until the testimony show- ed it on the trial. When that happened, Mr. Lincoln simply examined the witnesses to find how many such lambs were delivered, and when he addressed the jury, he plainly told them that their business was to give a verdict aorainst his client, and that all he asked of them was to judge justly as to the extent of damages. In an- other case he had successfully sued a railroad company, and was about to have judgment, a certain offset being proved against his client, which offset was of course to be deducted from the amount of the judgment. But just in time to correct an error, the honest lawyer rose and informed the court that the offset against his client ought to be larger by such and such a sum, which he proceeded to describe and allow; and the court de- ducted it accordingly. It is no wonder that such a man was called " perversely honest." He was a capi- tal lawyer for honest men, but a miserable lawyer for scoundrels. A similar scnipulous honesty was shown in his habit LINCOLN. Gl of dividing joint fees when he received them. He al- ways did this with each separate fee, setting his asso- ciate's portion aside in its own parcel, with the owner's name and that of the case in which it was received. This was only a habit, but it strongly marks the prin ciple. This ingrained instinctive honesty was, however, a principal element of his power as a lawyer and as a speaker. What jury could resist a prepossession to begin with, in favor of a man who, it was perfectly no- torious, always refiised cases he did not believe in? Ko man alive could help being disposed to give him a verdict under such circumstances. What listener be- fore the orator's platform could help feeling the influ- ence of the visible effort to state the exact truth, which so singularly fills period after period of all Mr. Lincoln's arguments ? The contrast between his j^ainfally earn- est, homely, direct struggle after mere fact as such, and the skillful contrivances of the trained politician's ef- forts to make out a case, is wonderfully clear in the speeches of the great seiies of debates with Mr. Doug- las. As the reader passes from one to the other and back again, he feels a change of moral atmosphere, almost like that of alternating between a juggler's gas- lit exhibition-room and a cool sunshiny morning land- scape. Before delivering that speech at Springfield which so clearly and ably defined the essence of the whole ques- tion of slavery and anti-slavery, Mr. Lincoln made an experiment on his law partner, Mr. Herndon, which showed the same honesty in arguing a political point as he used in arguing a legal point. Just before going to C8 THE PICTUKE AlfD THE MEN. the meeting he locked himself in with Mr. Ilerndon, and reading him the first paragraph of the speech, ask- ed, " What do you think of it ?" " I think it is all true," was the reply, " but I doubt whether it is good policy to say it now." "That," said Mr. Lincoln, " makes no difference. It is the truth, and the nation is entitled to it." The utter and uncompromising honesty of the man soaked and colored all his life. It was as quietly prompt and effective on the question of the Presidential nomination as on the question of the old rain-sopped book. They telegraphed to him when the Chicago Convention was in session, that to carry the Conven- tion he must have the votes of two delegations named, and that for this he must pledge himself if elected to put the chiefs of those delegations into his Cabinet. He spoke instantly back by the wires, with Lincolnian morals and phrase, " I authorize no bargains, and will be bound by none." COUKAGE. Mr. Lincoln possessed abundance of courage, both physical and moral ; but of his physical courage it is to be remarked that it was much more likely to be aroused by offenses against honor or by abuses prac- ticed on tho defenseless than by any impositions on himself. He was far from heimr a fiirhter like General Jackson ; and in fact so predominant was his kindliness and shrinking from causing pain to others, that he only bestirred himself when driven to the farthest endurable limit. On one of his flatboat trips to New Orleans he and his sole companion, armed with billets of wood. LINCOLN. 63 met and thoroughly thrashed and defeated seven ne- groes, who made a night attack on their boat. When he kept a little grocery, and a local bully used some coarse language before some women, Lincoln asked him to refrain, and being rudely challenged in conse- quence, wrestled with the fellow, threw him, and w^ith an odd, grim jocularity held him down and rubbed smart weed into his face and eyes until he roared in agony. But then releasing him, he at once did all in his power to relieve the pain, with so much genuine good-nature that the beaten bully became his life-long friend. When a gang of roughs in the neighborhood forced him into a contest with their champion, and clos- ing on him in the struggle jointly leveled him to the earth as he was winning in the combat, he was neither enraged nor scared, but jumped up, joked over his own defeat, and by sheer good -nature made them all so much his friends that they invited him to become of their worshipful company. This honor he thankfully declined, but retained their friendship. Once when a gang of political roughs threatened and attempted to drive Colonel Baker oif a platform, Mr. Lincoln unex- pectedly dropped down through a scuttle in the ceiling to Colonel Baker's side and coolly observed, " This is a land of freedom of speech. Mr. Baker has a right to speak. Ko man shall take him from the stand if I can prevent it." And they gave up the attempt. When Mr. Linder, a powerful speaker, had been threatened with violence for things uttered in a speech that was disagreeable to the Democrats, Mr. Lincoln and Colo- nel Baker alone escorted him safe home to his hotel. Plots and plans for the assassination of M-i*. Lincoln 64 TUE riCTUKE AND THE MEN. were diligently contrived from the time of his first nom- ination at Chicago until the final successful attempt in 1865. So many letters did he receive which threat- ened his life, that he kept a separate file of them. " The first one or two," he said to Mr. Carpenter, " made me feel a little uncomfortable, but I came at length to look for a regular installment of this kind of correspondence in every week's mail, and up to inauguration-day I was in constant receipt of such letters. It is no uncommon thing to receive them now [March, 1864, the year be- fore his death], but they have ceased to give me any apprehension." When the artist expressed his surprise at this, Mr. Lincoln answered, after his quaint fashion, " Oh, there's nothing like getting used to things !" When he left home for his first inauguration, an attempt was made to throw the train from the track ; then a hand-grenade was found secreted in the cars ; then an organization to assassinate him was found to exist at Baltimore. Yet he deviated not one inch from his pro- posed route, with the sole exception that he went from Harrisburg to Washington one train earlier than had been intended. He hoisted the flag at Philadelphia, spoke at Harrisburg, and moved and acted in all other particulars exactly on the pre-arranged plan, as if no- body could be killed by violence. All the arguments and remonstrances of his friends at Washington failed to reconcile him to the presence of the escort that pru- dence did in fact require. When General Wadsworth on one occasion sent such an escort, in part actually against his will, he complained that Mr. Lincoln and he "couldn't hear themselves talk" for the rattle of sabers and spurs, and that he was much more afraid of being LINCOLN. 66 shot in consequence of the inexperience of some green cavalryman than of being seized by any of Jeb Stuart's troopers. He used to walk and ride about Washington at all hours, by day or by night, alone or ■with some single friend ; and Colonel Halpine, then on General Halleck's staff, over and over again reminded his superiors of the total defenselessness of the Presi- dent. " Any assassin, or maniac," says Colonel Hal- pine, " seeking his life, could enter his presence without the interference of a single armed man to hold him back. The entrance doors, and all doors on the official side of the building, were open at all hours ot the day, and very late into the evening ; and I have many times entered the mansion and walked up to the rooms of the two private secretaries as late as nine or ten o'clock at night, without seeing or being challenged by a single soul." Mr. Lincoln was convinced that his death would not heljD the rebels, and he seemed to think that they would reason in like manner, and not seek his life. The ease with which such reasonin2:s satisfied him shows that he was brave enough, but the mistake was sadly demonstrated by the fact that he was killed in just the way he thought out of the question, when there was no longer any rebel confederacy to encour- age, and by exactly such means as a proper escort would have effectually prevented. Mr. Lincoln's moral courage w^as even greater than his physical. Indeed, he said that he thought himself a great coward physically — though he was certainly partly at least in jest — and he added, "Moral coward- ice is something which I think I never had." While Mr. Lincoln Avas practicing law in Springfield, 66 THE PICTUEE AND THE MEN. the Other lawyers in that city had, most of them, some political ambition, and accordingly they were shy of any legal business likely to make them unpopular, and particularly of defending men accused of help- ing fugitive slaves to escape. At that time it was com- monly considered in that region that catching and sur- rendering " fugitives from labor" was a constitutional duty to be performed with alacrity. Even that high- Bpirited man Edward D. Baker — afterward killed at Ball's Bluff—in those days, when applied to profession- ally by a person sued for helping off a fugitive slave, plainly refused, and said openly that he could not afford it as a political man. The defendant then consulted an anti-slavery friend, who at once recommended Lincoln. " He^s not afraid of an unpopular case," said he ; "when I go for a lawyer to defend an arrested fugi- tive slave, other lawyers will refuse me ; but if Mr. Lincoln is at home, he will always take my case." Having made up his mind what was the real scope and bearing of the political controversy which Mr. Douglas was trying to conduct on his " popular sover- eignty" principle exclusively, Mr. Lincoln had not only the foresight to judge coiTectly what course was best for the political future, and the rectitude to unreserv- edly adopt that course as his own on principle, but the moral courage — in his Springfield speech of July, 1858 — ^to avow the whole, clear, broad grounds of tliis line of action, when even the party and personal friends who were putting themselves into his hands by nomi- nating him for the senatorship, judged that it would be better to be silent. How just his perceptions were, and how truly the heart of the people responded to the LINCOLN. 67 key-note which he struck, was splendidly shown by his actually beating Mr. Douglas on the popular vote, though he failed of a majority and was " gerryman- dered" out of ai^ election in the ^legislature. When he became President, his moral courage was certainly not less required nor less conspicuous. With- out experience in war, diplomacy, or high executive office, he found himself obliged to assume the responsi- bility of taking prompt and very critical and important steps in all three. Only waiting to discover w^hat needed to be done, he did not fail to do it when the right time came, > He called out : seventy-five thousand volunteei*s ; he blockaded the Southern ports; he seized all the telegraph dispatches on file in all the offices of the country for a year back ; and did other acts of like kind, for which there was not, strictly speaking, any legal authority. It is true that these measures were necessary, w^ere so jugded by the Cabinet, and were morally certain to be legalized by Congress ; but would Mr. Buchanan have had the moral courage to do them ? By no means ; and the burden of their responsibility was a grave one ev-en for the strong shoulders of Mr. Lincoln. The same perfectly cool morul courage, acting always wdth a careful waiting upon the dictates of his slow and patient and fearless judgment, but acting with the most perfect promptness when the time came, was evi- dent on many a subsequent occasion. Whether he acted or refrained from acting, neither the threats and a,buse of, enemies, nor the anger and impatience of friends, nor any fear of the face of man moved him. He Avanted no help in doing right — he only w^anted consultation to convince him what right was. When 68 THE PICTUBE AND THE MEN. a foolish staff-officer, Major Key, had the incolence to tell him to his face that the gcDerals in the field had a political policy of their own not to win battles, he in- stantly dismissed him from the sendee. When he thought best to prepare his Emancipation Proclamation he did so, and this time without asking advice of any- body. Just as steadily he postponed issuing it until the right day, and just as promptly, when that day came, he sent it forth. "VVKATH. Long-suffering and kindly as he was, Mr. Lincoln could become powerfully angiy. This, however, was far harder where only he himself was concerned, than where his country, some important and highly valued interest, a friend, or some lowly and helpless person were concerned. A poor negro steamboat-hand, from Springfield or the vicinity, had been imprisoned in New Orleans, merely for being a free negro from out of the State, and was in danger of being . sold for jail fees. Mr. Lincoln, finding that the Governor of Illinois had no power to do anything to j)revent this rascality, jumped up, exclaiming, "By the Almighty, I'll have that negro back, or I'll have a twenty years' agitation in Illinois, until the Governor can do something in the premises." And he would have done it, had not some money been sent forward in time to rescue the poor fellow. The strongest expression of indignation that Mr. Carpenter ever heard him use was with reference to the Wall Street gold-gamblers, about the time of the Proclamation. "For jny part," he exclaimed to Governor Curtin, and striking the table with his clinch- ed fist, " I wish every one of them had his devilish LINCOLN. 69 head shot off!" An officer deservedly dismissed the service tormented the President with repeated state- ments of a case that was bad on his own showing, and on his third visit was impudent enough to say, " Well, Mr. President, I see you are fully determined not to do me justice !" Mr. Lincoln, his lips slightly closing to- gether, quietly rose up, laid down the papers in his hand, seized the fellow by the coat-collar, walked him by main strength to the door and flung him into the passage, saying, " Sir, I give you fair warning never to show youi-self in this room again — I can bear censure, but not insult !" Once at least, when some rebel women were impudent to him, he ordered them per- emptorily to be shown out of the house, DESPONDENCY. The profound despondency which sometimes seized Mr. Lincoln was no disproof either of his strength and courage, or of his firm faith in the right. Such tempo- rary affections were in part constitutional — for a vein of melancholy ran through his character — and were in part the result of the long and terrible draughts of the war upon his physical and mental forces. One day, in the midst of reports from the Wilderness battle-ground, Mr. Lincoln, with a face, tone, and manner of profound sadness and doubt, said to one of his personal and polit- ical friends, " Has it ever occurred to you that in view of the bad fortune that we have suffered so often and so long, and in such important instances, it may be that after all we are perhaps in the wrong ? That the Lord is showing us that we are wrong?" And the friend answered him with similar sentiments, " Yes, it has, a 70 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. great many times." Yet such feelings never varied the direct line of his public policy or of his public utterances. INDUSTRY— PEKSEVEKANCE. Mr. Lincoln was industrious and persevering. In- deed, like other self-made men, had he not possessed a remarkable share of those qualities, he would have re- mained obscm-e. He was almost as poor as poor can be. His father's whole estate, when they removed to Indiana, was worth just about $300, and two thirds of this was lost by a capsize in the river while moving. Th& boy grew up in a sheer necessity of severe, un- taught hard Jabor* . In this his strength was consumed* His whole " education" covered just over one year of school attendance, and that at little district schools — and scatteringly, here a little and there less, so as to make the total as ineffective as possible. But with his own delib- erate slow strength, he toiled with immense toil after what he felt was lacking. Reading whatever good books he could grasp, he wrote out a careful analysis of each after finishing it — a task which few would ever begin, and only the fewest of the few would ever continue or complete. Pollard Simmons, a work-fellow with him in his youth, thus reported of him on this point, in 1 856 or thereabout : " Abe Lincoln was the likeliest boy in God's world. He would work all day as hard as any of us, and study by fire-light in the log-house half the night, and in this way he made himself a thorough practical surveyor." He passed one summer and fall as " hired man" with a Mr. Armstrong ; and his earnest and diligent studies during that time so pleased his employer as to produce LINCOLN". 71 *an offer to keep the youth through the winter, while he should continue at work at his books. The offer Avas accepted, though only on condition that the boarder should work enough to pay for his board. He always remained deeply conscious of the serious misfortune of his early lack of culture ; and with the same steady, deliberate, ceaseless effort sought to make up for it. He was " always thinking," the Illinois law- yers said ; and he was reckoned an " improving man." From the time of his election to the Presidency ho never knew what real rest or leisure was, but laboring up to the limit of his strength and far beyond it, he toiled straight forward, though conscious that he was exhausting himself. He had a distinct presentiment, which he avowed to more than one friend, that he would not outlive the rebellion, and he felt plainly that his labors were exhausting him. He had no fear of being murdered, and he undoubtedly felt that he was drying up the springs of his life by labor. He grew over-tired, wiry and powerful and enduring as he was. He remarked that such snatches of repose as he got " never reached the tired spot." During the last two year* of his life, the progress of this exhaustion was shown "by the perceptible coming on and increase of a certain nervous irritability, very far from his habitual quiet, easy kindliness of manner. But fresh or weary, his steady industry never once failed. KINDNESS. It seems scarcely possible for any human being to have been more thoroughly friendly, kindly, and free from hatred, revenge, jealousy, or ill- wishing than was 72 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. Mr. Lincoln. To many a woman and child, great and small, he was the same sweet-minded and beneficently- disposed man. Doubtless he wished as well to the rich and great as to the poor and helpless, but very natu- rally he found more good opportunities to help the lat- ter, and more of them have been put on record. The teacher of the Mission School at the Five Points House of Industry, in New York city, has given the following enthusiastic account of Mr. Lincoln's bearing even among children. It is a narrative of his visit to the school during liis Eastern campaigning trip in 1860. " Our Sunday-school," says the teacher, " in the Five Points was assembled one Sabbath morning, when I noticed a tall, remarkable-looking man enter the room and take a seat among us. He listened with fixed at- tention to our exercises, and his countenance expressed such genuine interest that I approached him and sug- gested that he might be willing to say something to the children. He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure ; and coming forward, began a simple address which at once fascinated every little hearer and hushed the room into silence. His language was strikingly beautiful, and his tones musical with intensest feeling. The little faces around him would droop into sad con- viction as he uttered sentences of warning, and would lighten into sunshine as he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted to close his re- marks ; but the imperative shout of ' go on ! oh, do go on !' would compel liim to resume. As I looked upon the gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger, and mark- ed his powerful head and determined features, now touched into softness by the impressions of the moment. LINCOLN. 73 I felt an irrepressible curiosity to learn something more about him ; and when he was quietly leaving the room I begged to know his name. He courteously replied, * It is Abraham Lincoln, from Illinois.' " Mr. Lincoln loved children and babies with a love much like that which women have for them. A woman whose husband was to be unjustly shot, had waited, her baby in her arms, for three days, in the President's ante-room, w^hen Mr. Lincoln, in leaving his office fbr some refreshment, lieard the child cry. He "went straight back to the office, rang the bell for his usher, and said, " Daniel, is there a woman with a baby in the ante-room ?" The usher said there was, and — know- ing what was the poor woman's case — he added that her errand w^as one of life and death, and that he ought to see her. He ordered her instantly in ; she told her stoiy, and her husband was pardoned. As she came out of the room with her eyes lifted up, her lips moving in prayer, the tears streaming down her cheeks, old Daniel plucked her shawl and told her who was her advocate. " Madam," said he, " it was the baby that did it." One of the editors of the Chicago Tribune says : " I dropped in upon Mr. Lincoln and found him busily en- gaged in counting greenbacks. * This, sir,' said he, * is something out of my usual line ; but a President of the United States has a multiplicity of duties not specified in the Constitution or Acts of Congress. This is one of them. This money belongs to a poor negro, who is a porter in the Treasury Department, and at present very sick with small-pox. He is now in the hospital, and could not drav/ his pay because he could not sign 74 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. his name. I have been at considerable trouble to over- come the difficulty and get it for him ; and have at length succeeded in " cutting the red tapCj" as you news- paper men say. I am dividing the money and putting by a portion labeled in an envelope, according to his wish.'" More than once he helped poor clients, not only with free advice, but with gifts of money. Dur- ing his great debates with Douglas, the two contest- ants, with equally creditable good sense and good feel- ing, rode together to or from their appointments in the ^ame vehicle, chatting as pleasantly as if instead of trying each to get into the Senate and keep the other out, they were old friends meeting by pleasant chance. The innate, iiTCsistible, completely instinctive char- acter of the kindness of Mr. Lincoln is, pei-haps, most strongly shown where it made him simply incapable of acquiescing in or inflicting suffering at such ; the im- pulse being as nnreasoning as that which makes a person jump away from a scald with boiling water. Riding an Illinois circuit one day, he found a pig, struggling in some deep mud, and evidently nearly ex- hausted ; the sight hurt him, but having on a new suit of clothes, he reluctantly rode on. But piggy had got hold of the lawyer's heart-strings ; the farther he went the more uneasy he became, and at the end of two miles he turned round, rode back, made a bridge of rails out into the mud, dugout the pig, and then resum- ed his journey, with very muddy clothes, but with liis mind at ease. As characteristic as the kindness, was the self-analysis that followed. He fell to considering what his motive had been. At first he said to himself that it was benevolence; but he concluded in the end jsu:* rtu -: LiNcoi^N". 75 that it was selfishness ; for he rescued the pig, he said, " in order to take a pain out of his own mind." Tliis irresistible shrinking from inflicting or allowing suffering, no matter for what purpose, was perhaps more strikingly exempUfied in Mr. Lincoln's practice about the pardon of deserters and other convicted criminals, and on the military question of retaliation, than in any other case. The real justice of the case, the military bearings of it, the result of the decision on society, or the influence of his action on others tempted to imitate the offense, seemed to be considerations almost without Yy^eight in Mr. Lincoln's mind, in com- parison with his invincible reluctance to inflict pain. The instinct was as unreasoning as would be that of a surgeon who should refuse to cut off a limb from dread of giving j^ain, even though the pain would save a life. Judge Bates said that he had sometimes told Mr. Lincoln that he was unfit to be trusted with the pardoning power, because he was so sure to be over- persuaded by beseechings, and particularly by the prayers and tears of w^omen. Secretary Stanton and the generals in the field were often much vexed at hav- ing Mr. Lincoln mitigating or remitting punishments which they felt were indispensable for the good of the service. . A well-executed representation of the sorrow of a deserter's or criminal's friends wa§ all but certain to save the delinquent's life, and of course the result often was to turn a hardened scoundrel loose to 23rey on the community. When Mr. Colfax had specially urged the sj^aring of the life of a son of a certain con- stituent of the Speaker's, about to be shot for desertion, the President said, "Some of our generals complain 76 THE PICTURE AND THE MEN. that I impair discipline and subordination in the anny by my pardons and respites, but it makes me rested, after a hard day's work, if I can find some good excuse for saving a man's life, and I go to bed happy as I think how joyous the signing of my name will make him and liis family and friends." After pardoning, on his mother's . solicitation, a man condemned to death, the President said : " Perhaps I have done wrong, but at all events I have made that poor woman happy." It is no wonder that doing such deeds transfigured the gaunt and homely President into an angel of light in the eyes of those whom he was blessing. On the recommendation of Mr. Stevens, he had one day given to an old lady a pardon for her son. In leaving the White House, with Mr. Stevens, the old lady all at once cried out, in an excited way, " I knew it was a copperhead lie !" " What, madam ?" asked her com- panion. " Why," she exclaimed again, with vehemence, " they told me he was an ugly-looking man. He is the handsomest man I ever saw in my life !" Mr. Lincoln had some idea of his own weakness in this particular. In a case of application to pardon a man of previous good character, but sentenced for manslaughter, the President replied, " Well, gentlemen, leave your papers, and I will have the Attorney-Gen- eral, Judge Bates, look them over, and we will see what can be done. Being both of us pigeon-hearted fellows, the chances are that if there is any ground whatever for interference, the scoundrel will get off." Even when the infliction of suftering was the only and the sure way of saving far greater suffering, Isly. Lincoln could not do it. One of his generals found LINCOLN. 77 that deserters could not be shot, though desertion was actually seriously weakening the army ; and he went to Washington and said so. "Mr. President," he urged, " unless these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many." "Mr. General," said the President, "there are already too many weeping widows in the United States. For God's sake don't ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it." When ample and authenticated news was laid before him of the tortur- ing of our men to death by slow starvation in the rebel prisons, Mr. Lincoln was profoundly moved. It was urged upon him, and justly too, that the only possible remedy was prompt and stern retaliation. But he said to Mr. Odell, " I can never, never starve men like that. Whatever others may say or do, I never can, and I never will be accessory to such treatment of human beings." Even fui'tlier : after the awful devilism of the Fort Pillow massacre, and when in a speech at the Baltimore Fair he had pledged himself in public that there should be a retaliation for it, yet no step or move toward retaliation was ever taken. For Mr. Lincolij it was simply an impossibility. The extreme extent of this incapacity was assuredly a defect in Mr. Lincoln's character ; but over-kindliness is not the fault which has done most evil in this world. Mr. Bates, in a conver- sation with Mr. Carpenter, once referred to this trait as the single flaw in Mr. Lincoln's character. " Mr. Lincoln," he said, " comes very near being a perfect man, according to my ideal of manhood. He lacks but one thing." "Is that official dignity as Presi- dent ?" inquired the painter. " No," was the rej^ly. 78 THE nCTUKE AND THE MEN. " that is of little consequence. His deficiency is in the element oi loilV But this is not exactly the way to state it. The defect was based on two thino^s : a too small faculty for feeling anger, and a too great and sensitive faculty for feeling the sufferings of others. He had will enough, but these two mental characteristics, standing behind the will, fixed it immovably in a reso- lution that he " never could and never would" do such and guch things. SIMPLICITY, UNAFFECTEDNESS. A very prominent trait in Mr. Lincoln was his entire freedom from pride, affectation, assumption, or show of any kind. His ways were singularly unconscious, and even when any fact or characteristic of himself came in question, he recognized it or stated it exactly as it was, the mere fact appearing to be all that he required. He seemed not to remember, or at least not to care, how the statement of the fact was going to make him ap- pear. One exception to this rule is on record ; it was about his duel with General Shields. This duel was one of that numerous class of duels that did not happen ; it only went so far as the sending of a challenge by the hot-blooded Irishman and its acceptance by Mr. Lin- coln, who took the responsibility rather than allow the authorship of certain satirical verses to be charged to the real writer, a young lady, afterward Mrs. Lincoln. Mr. Lincoln chose broadswords as the weapons, because his arms were long, and he reckoned he could keep Shields off; but friends interposed on the ground, and a reconciliation was effected. Long afterward, at Wash- ington, during the February before his death, a distin- / LINCOLN. 79 guishcd army officer, being at the White House, asked Mr. Lincoln in conversation, " Is it true, Mr. President, as I have heard, that you once went out to fight a duel for the sake of the lady by your sidr ^^r ' ^ ^^y ^'^^^ without any unfriendly feeling toward Ticknor & Fields or Mr. Marshall, but simply as an act of justice to vou, and also that the pub- lic, w-ho are not judges of engraving, may understand the facts in the case. A. H. Ritchie, J. C. Buttre, George E. Ferine, G. W. Posselwhite, Charles T. Giles, N. Lott, W. L. Titsworth, Wm. Murray, and others. From the Uok. Robekt Dale Owex, aidhor of the fortJicoming " Life and Tin^s of Abraham Lincoln.'''' F. B. Carpenteh, Esq. : My Dear Sir— You expressed a desire that I should give you my opinion of the comparative merits of your engraved portrait of our late President, just published, and that previously oflered to the public by Mr. Marshall. Last evening, at the house of a friend, I had, for the first time, an opportunity of placing side by side the two likenesses. My opinion, even if it seems presumptuous, so to express it, is, that your portrait of Mr. Lincoln, as presented by Halpin. is the most faithful repre- sentation that has ever been or (now that death has taken from us the original) ever will be executed, of one among the best and greatest men who in any age ever occupied a positioh so exalted as that to which our late chief mag- istrate was called. Mr. Marshall's likeness, finished work of art as it is, does not bring up be- fore my mind any vivid recollection of Mr. Lincoln as I knew him. Most persons may say that it represents a handsomer man than your embodiment does. It IS not handsomer to me. The strong, somewhat rugged features, the sad, dreamy eyes, even the coarse, rebellious hair, are all so associated for mc with the noble qualities of the man, that I prefer them just as they were, to any smoother or more conventional a rendition of them. I intend, in thus speaking, no expression of opinion touching the compar- ative merits of the two artists. Ruskin has well said that it behooves qn art- ist to stud}% not Rafaelle, but what Rafaelle studied. No copies of nature can supersede the teachings of nature. You had daily before you for months the rnan himself— an advantage which no other artist over had. It was fortu- nate for you and for the world. Future ages will know as truthfully as pencil and graver can tell them, the features, the expression, the idiosyncrasy of Abraham Lincoln. I am, my dear sir, faithfully yours, „ ^ .,. ROBERT DALE OWEN. 1 . b.— I am so far a competent judge as to likenesses in this case, that l served two years in Congress with Mr. Lincoln, and had some thirty or forty interviews with him, during his Presidency, some of them on important Bubjects. PlilCES : Artist's Proofs, $15 ; India Proofs, $7 75 ; Prints, $4 75. J^~ Agents wanted to sell the above everywhere. Sold by Subscription only. Address for the East, ^. J. JOMTVSOIV, I»xil>lisher, No. 113 Fulton StbeeT, New York. For Ohio and Michigan, F. G. & A. C. ROWE, Qeveland, Ohio. For territory farther West, DR. C. ALLEN, Chicago, HI. H 291 79 4 o • V^ . s • • > '^ >' / ^ 4 o ^°V V ^ SEPT 79 1^ ^^ ^^-^ ^'^aii^' "^^ C"" y'^