In the period between Lincoln's election in November and
his inauguration in March, the Union disintegrated. On November
9, three short days after Lincoln's election, a secession convention
was called in South Carolina. Although no definitive action was
taken, South Carolina's senators resigned from Congress the next
day. In the following weeks, several southern states would consider
seriously the possibility of leaving the union.
In December, President Buchanan made his final address
to Congress. As a lame duck, Buchanan took a characteristically
pasty stance, calling secession illegal but also failing to recognize
the Federal government's capacity to prevent such action. With
his administration winding down and sectional conflict heating
up, Buchanan began to lose the members of his cabinet one by one.
On December 8, Secretary of Treasury Howell Cobb of Georgia presented
his resignation, indicating his view that secession was a necessary
step for the southern states. Less than a week later, Secretary of
State Lewis Cass of Michigan would also resign, but for very different
reasons, feeling that Buchanan was not taking a strong enough stand
against the threat of secession.
Finally, on December 20, 1860, against the best efforts
of President Buchanan to the contrary, South Carolina officially
seceded from the Union. As the home state of the late John C.
Calhoun, champion of nullification, South Carolina had tested the
constitutional basis of union before, but it had never stepped
quite this far into the unknown. Implausible and unlikely as it
might have seemed, the United States had become two nations.
In a last desperate attempt to preserve what remained
of the Union, and to bring South Carolina back into the fold, Senator John
J. Crittenden of Kentucky attempted to follow in the steps of his
fellow statesman Clay with a compromise that would be amenable
to all sides. His proposal provided for the restoration of the boundary
drawn under the Missouri Compromise, an even stricter fugitive
slave law, federal compensation for owners of runaway slaves, and
territorial entry into the Union on the basis of popular sovereignty.
In addition, a congressional proviso would prevent the Constitution
from being amended in such as to prohibit slavery in states where
it already existed.
The Crittenden Compromise enjoyed considerable support,
but in the end it was Lincoln who rejected it as untenable. Satisfied though
he was with the idea of guaranteeing the right of slavery in states
where it existed, Lincoln insisted that the government could "entertain
no proposition for a compromise in regard to the extension of slavery."
Crittenden would suffer as much as any in this final failure to
reach middle ground: one of his sons remained with the Union in
the Civil War while the other defected to the Confederacy.
With an insurgent state government in his midst, President Buchanan
was faced with a crisis in the closing days of his administration.
In attempt to cut their losses in truant South Carolina, federal
agents had bolstered their position at Fort Sumter in Charleston
Harbor on December 26. Reasserting independence from the federal
government, South Carolina demanded a total evacuation of the harbor.
Buchanan refused to comply, and sent a ship full of reinforcements
and supplies down to Charleston a few days later. With this act,
Buchanan lost the remainder of his cabinet, which had been liquidated
completely in less than a month.
When the federal ship arrived in Charleston Harbor on
January 9, South Carolina opened fire against it, and Buchanan
decided to withdraw, content to possess Fort Sumter if not to reinforce
it. That would become Lincoln's problem. So too would the continuing
tide of secession. In the aftermath of the Charleston skirmish,
four more states seceded from the Union: Mississippi on the day
of the clash, Florida the day after, Alabama the day after that,
and Georgia one week later.
Hoping to stem the momentum of secession, Virginia representatives
proposed a national peace conference on January 19. However, the
integrity of the conference was undermined by a boycott from the
Deep South, and without national representation little could be
accomplished. In late January Kansas was admitted to the Union
as a free state, but this could hardly compensate for the defection
of two more states, Louisiana on January 26 and Texas on February
1.
In early February, the seceded states met in Montgomery,
Alabama to form an alliance, which they termed the Confederate
States of America. A constitution was drafted, and Jefferson Davis,
a former senator who had recently resigned his seat in Washington, was
named and inaugurated as president.
Amidst this national drama, on February 11, Lincoln set
out from his Springfield home en route to Washington for his inauguration.
In his brief but moving farewell address to his townsmen, he affectionately
took their leave, "not knowing when or whether ever I may return."
A twelve-day train trip ensued, with stops scheduled for various
eastern cities along the way. Security was at a maximum on the
rails, and Lincoln was whisked in and out of several locales, often
under cover of darkness. Combined with Lincoln's emerging whiskers
(grown at the suggestion of a young correspondent), his furtive
journey to Washington gave him something of the air of a fugitive
in the land he was poised to command.
As Lincoln drew closer and closer to Washington, the level
of tension grew higher and higher. Lincoln cut short his visit
to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and left Philadelphia promptly after
his advisers received word of an assassination plot. Menace was
also looming in Baltimore, where another assassination attempt
was said to be lurking.
Despite the various threats on his life, Lincoln made
it safely to Washington at the end of February. But in the bargain
his credibility suffered at the hands of those who lampooned his
secretive, almost frightened, journey east. Attempting to silence
his critics, Lincoln delivered a firm, forceful inaugural address
on March 4. Reasserting the dual rights of the federal and state
governments, Lincoln denied any wish to interfere with the question
of slavery in the southern states. Rather than harping on the
need to contain slavery, Lincoln chose to place his emphasis on
the necessity of preserving the Union.
In the interest of the Union's integrity, Lincoln resolved
to "hold, occupy and possess the property and places belonging
to the government." It would be up to the states to decide whether
such a resolution would necessitate warfare. On the podium, this
was a master stroke of rhetoric by Lincoln, but in practical terms
the statement was a meaningless one. The Union was prepared to
do what it had to in order to keep what it felt was rightfully
its own, and if aggression followed suit then so be it.
Recognizing the precariousness of his political situation,
Lincoln made every effort to turn his northern rivals into friends.
He named William Seward Secretary of State, and Salmon Chase Secretary
of Treasury. Additionally, he had several promises to fulfill
as a result of the finagling his supporters had engaged in at the
Republican nominating convention. One such arrangement was realized
in the nomination of Simon Cameron as Secretary of War, which would prove
to be a post of more than usual importance in this particular administration.
But as a purely political appointment, Cameron would not last
long, being replaced less than a year later by the indefatigable
Edwin Stanton.
The result of Lincoln's cabinet decisions was an eclectic
and diverse cabinet of Republicans who held varying views on the
questions of slavery and union. It is a mark of Lincoln's political
adroitness that he was even able to win the ear and loyalty of
Stephen Douglas, his former rival and erstwhile Democrat. At the
inauguration, Douglas made a symbolic gesture by holding Lincoln's
hat and cane as Lincoln delivered his inaugural address.
In the first months of the administration, Douglas was
a loyal supporter and trusted adviser to Lincoln. Tragically,
on a diplomatic speaking tour of the Confederacy in the spring
of 1861, Douglas contracted typhoid fever and died on June 3 in
Chicago. Lincoln, normally loath to form close relationships, wept
openly at news of the loss of his foremost rival and longtime friend.
Only a few short years before, the two men had argued passionately
about a question that threatened to divide the Union. And within
a few short years, by working to repair that divide, both men would
surrender their lives in the service of the Union.
