A proper description of the presidential tour which followed would fill a volume. It embraced two weeks of official receptions by committees, mayors, governors, and legislatures; of crowded evening receptions and interminable hand-shakings; of impromptu or formal addresses at every ceremony; of cheers, salutes, bonfires, military parades, and imposing processions, amid miles of spectators.

Political dissension was for the moment hushed in the general curiosity to see and hear the man who by the free and lawful choice of the nation had been called to exercise the duties of the presidential office. The universal eagerness was perhaps heightened by the fact that during the same two weeks the delegates from the States in insurrection were in session at Montgomery, Alabama, occupied with the temporary organization of a government openly pledged to rebellion, and whose doings were daily reported by the telegraph and printed in every newspaper. Personal curiosity was thus supplemented by growing political anxiety, and every word of the President-elect was scanned for some light by which to read the troubled and uncertain future. Mr. Lincoln was therefore obliged to measure his public utterances with unusual caution; and while he managed to avoid any announcement of policy, the country was nevertheless able to read between the lines that it had made no mistake in the man to whom it had confided the preservation of the Government. It would, of course, be impossible in a single chapter to cite his many speeches on this journey, in which there occurred, of necessity, a great deal of repetition. It will, perhaps, give a better idea of their general tenor to reproduce passages from a few of the most noteworthy. In reading these the critic must constantly bear in mind that they were reported and printed under such circumstances of haste and confusion that verbal accuracy could not be expected, and that they are but abstracts, in which the full structure of his sentences is often abridged or transposed to permit the whole to be brought within the limits of an ordinary press dispatch.

The train which left Springfield in the morning arrived in Indianapolis before nightfall, where, in response to an address from Governor Morton, Mr. Lincoln said:

"Most heartily do I thank you for this magnificent reception, and while I cannot take to myself any share of the compliment thus paid, more than that which pertains to a mere instrument, an accidental instrument, perhaps, I should say, of a great cause, I yet must look upon it as a most magnificent reception, and as such most heartily do I thank you for it. You have been pleased to address yourself to me chiefly in behalf of this glorious Union in which we live, in all of which you have my hearty sympathy, and, as far as may be within my power, will have, one and inseparably, my

hearty coöperation. While I do not expect, upon this occasion, or until I get to Washington, to attempt any lengthy speech, I will only say that to the salvation of the Union, there needs but one single thing, the hearts of a people like yours. The people, when they rise in mass in behalf of the Union and the liberties of this country, truly may it be said, 'The gates of hell in which I shall be placed, and doubtless I shall be cannot prevail against them.' In all trying positions placed in many such, my reliance will be upon you and the people of the United States; and I wish you to remember, now and forever, that it is your business, and not mine; that if the union of these States and the liberties of this people shall be lost, it is but little to any one man of fifty-two years of age, but a great deal to the thirty millions of people who inhabit these United States, and to their posterity in all coming time. It is your business to rise up and preserve the Union and liberty for yourselves, and not for me. . . . I appeal to you again to constantly bear in mind that not with politicians, not with Presidents, not with office-seekers, but with you, is the question, Shall the Union and shall generations?" the liberties of this country be preserved to the latest

The ceremonies during his stay here called out another address from him in which he asked the following pertinent questions:

"I am here to thank you much for this magnificent welcome, and still more for the generous support given by your State to that political cause which I think is the true and just cause of the whole country and the silence,' and when men wrangle by the month with no whole world. Solomon says there is a time to keep certainty that they mean the same thing, while using the same word, it perhaps were as well if they would keep silence. The words 'coercion' and 'invasion' are much used in these days, and often with some temper and hot blood. Let us make sure, if we can, that we do not misunderstand the meaning of those who use them. Let us get exact definitions of these words, not from dictionaries, but from the men themselves, who certainly appreciate the things they would represent by the use of words. What, then, is 'Coercion '? What is Invasion'? Would the marching of an army into South Carolina, without the consent of her people, and with hostile intent towards them, be 'invasion'? also if the South Carolinians were forced to submit. I certainly think it would; and it would be coercion ' But if the United States should merely hold and retake its own forts and other property, and collect the duties on foreign importations, or even withhold the mails from places where they were habitually violated, would any or all of these things be 'invasion' or 'coercion'? Do our professed lovers of the Union, but who spitefully resolve that they will resist coercion and invasion, understand that such things as these on the part of the United States would be coercion or invasion of a State? If so, their idea of means to preserve the object of their affection would seem exceedingly thin and airy. If sick, the little pills of the homeopathist would be much too large for them to swallow. In their view, the Union, as a family relation, would seem to be no regular marriage, but a sort of 'free-love' arrangement, to be maintained only on passional attraction.' By the way, in what consists the special sacredness of a State? I speak not of the position assigned to a State in the Union, by the Constitution; for that, by the bond, we all recognize. That position, however, a State cannot carry out of the Union with it. I speak of that assumed primary right of a State to rule all which is less than itself, and ruin all which is larger than itself. If a State, and a county, in a given case, should be equal in extent of territory, and equal in number of inhabitants, in what, as a matter of principle, is the State better than the

county? Would an exchange of names be an exchange of rights upon principle? On what rightful principle may a State, being not more than one-fiftieth part of the nation, in soil and population, break up the nation and then coerce a proportionally larger subdivision of itself, in the most arbitrary way? What mysterious right to play tyrant is conferred on a district of country, with its people, by merely calling it a State? Fellow-citizens, I am not asserting anything; I am merely asking questions for you to consider."

At Columbus, Ohio, he said to the legislature of that State, convened in joint session in the hall of the Assembly:

"It is true, as has been said by the President of the Senate, that very great responsibility rests upon me in the position to which the votes of the American peo ple have called me. I am deeply sensible of that weighty responsibility. I cannot but know what you all know, that without a name, perhaps without a reason why I should have a name, there has fallen upon me a task such as did not rest even upon the Father of his Country; and so feeling, I cannot but turn and look for that support without which it will be impossible for me to perform that great task. I turn, then, and look to the American people, and to that God who has never forsaken them. Allusion has been made to the interest felt in relation to the policy of the new Administration. In this I have received from some a degree of credit for having kept silence, and from others some deprecation. I still think that I was right. . . . I have not maintained silence from any want of real anxiety. It is a good thing that there is no more than anxiety, for there is nothing going wrong. It is a consoling circumstance that when we look out, there is nothing that really hurts anybody. We entertain different views upon political questions, but nobody is suffering anything. This is a most consoling circumstance, and from it we may conclude that all we want is time, patience, and a reliance on that God who has never forsaken this people."

During a brief halt of the train at Steubenville, where a large crowd was assembled, he made the following short statement of the fundamental question at issue:

"I fear that the great confidence placed in my ability is unfounded. Indeed, I am sure it is. Encompassed by vast difficulties as I am, nothing shall be wanting on my part, if sustained by the American people and God. I believe the devotion to the Constitution is

equally great on both sides of the river. It is only the different understanding of that instrument that causes difficulty. The only dispute on both sides is, 'What are their rights?' If the majority should not rule, who would be the judge? Where is such a judge to be found? We should all be bound by the majority of the American people if not, then the minority must control. Would that be right? Would it be just or generous? Assuredly not. I reiterate, that the majority should rule. If I adopt a wrong policy, the opportunity for condemnation will occur in four years' time. Then I can be turned out, and a better man with better views put in my place."

Necessarily omitting any description of the magnificent demonstrations, and the multiplied speeches in the great State and city of New York, his addresses in the capital of New Jersey must be quoted, because they show a culminating earnestness of thought and purpose. To the Senate he said:

"I am very grateful to you for the honorable reception of which I have been the object. I cannot but remember the place that New Jersey holds in our early history. In the revolutionary struggle few of the States among the Old Thirteen had more of the battlefields of the country within their limits than New Jersey. May I be pardoned if, upon this occasion, I mention that away back in my childhood, the earliest days of my being able to read, I got hold of a small book, such a one as few of the younger members have ever seen,' Weems' Life of Washington.' I remember all the accounts there given of the battle-fields and struggles for the liberties of the country, and none fixed themselves upon my imagination so deeply as the struggle here at Trenton, New Jersey. The crossing of the river; the contest with the Hessians; the great hardships endured at that time, all fixed themselves on and you all know, for you have all been boys, how my memory more than any single revolutionary event; recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that these early impressions last longer than any others. I there must have been something more than common that these men struggled for. I am exceedingly anxious that that thing that something even more than National Independence; that something that held out a great promise to all the people of the world to all time to come- -I am exceedingly anxious that this Union, the Constitution, and the liberties of the people shall be perpetuated in accordance with the original idea for which that struggle was made, and I shall be most happy indeed if I shall be an humble instrument in the hands of the Almighty, and of this, his almost chosen people for perpetuating the object of that great struggle. You give me this reception, as I understand, without distinction of party. I learn that this body is composed of a majority of gentlemen who, in the exercise of their best judgment in the choice of a chief magistrate, did not think I was the man. I understand, nevertheless, that they came forward here to greet me as the constitutionally elected President of the -as citizens of the United States-to United States meet the man who, for the time being, is the representative of the majesty of the nation united by the single purpose to perpetuate the Constitution, the Union, and the liberties of the people. As such, I accept this reception more gratefully than I could do. did I believe it were tendered to me as an individual."

Passing then to the Assembly Chamber, he addressed the members of the lower house in conclusion:

"You, Mr. Speaker, have well said that this is a time when the bravest and wisest look back with doubt and awe upon the aspect presented by our national affairs. Under these circumstances, you will readily see why I should not speak in detail of the course I shall deem it best to pursue. It is proper that I should command, in order that when the time arrives in which avail myself of all the information and all the time at my I must speak officially, I shall be able to take the ground have no occasion to swerve. I shall endeavor to take which I deem the best and safest, and from which I may the ground I deem most just to the North, the East, the West, the South, and the whole country. I take it, I hope, in good temper, certainly with no malice toward any section. I shall do all that may be in my power to promote a peaceful settlement of all our difficulties. than I am, none who would do more to preserve it, but The man does not live who is more devoted to peace it may be necessary to put the foot down firmly. [Here the audience broke out into cheers so loud and long, that for some moments it was impossible to hear Mr.

you will sustain me, will you not? [Loud cheers, and Lincoln's voice.] And if I do my duty and do right, cries of Yes, yes, we will.'] Received as I am by the

"I am filled with deep emotion at finding myself standing in this place, where were collected together the wisdom, the patriotism, the devotion to principle from which sprang the institutions under which we live. You have kindly suggested to me that in my hands is the task of restoring peace to our distracted country. I can say in return, sirs, that all the political sentiments I entertain have been drawn, so far as I have been able to draw them, from the sentiments which originated in and were given to the world from this hall. I have never had a feeling, politically, that did not spring from the sentiments embodied in the Declaration of Independence. I have often pondered over the dangers which were incurred by the men who assembled here and framed and adopted that Declaration. I have pondered over the toils that were endured by the officers and soldiers of the army who achieved that independence. I have often inquired of myself what great principle or idea it was that kept this Confederacy so long together. It was not the mere matter of separation of the colonies from the motherland, but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but hope to all the world, for all future time. It was that which gave promise that in due time the weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all men and that all should have an equal chance. This is the sentiment embodied in the Declaration of Independence. Now, my friends, can this country be saved on that basis? If it can, I will consider myself one of the happiest men in the world if I can help to save it. If it cannot be saved upon that principle, it will be truly awful. But if this country cannot be saved without giving up that principle, I was about to say I would rather be assassinated on this spot than surrender it. Now, in my view of the present aspect of affairs, there is no need of bloodshed and war. There is no necessity for it. I am not in favor of such a course; and I may say in advance that there will be no bloodshed unless it be forced upon the Government. The Government will not use force, unless force is used against it.

My friends, this is wholly an unprepared speech. I did not expect to be called on to say a word when I came here. I supposed it was merely to do something towards raising a flag-I may, therefore, have said something indiscreet. [Cries of No, No.'] But I have said nothing but what I am willing to live by, and, if it be the pleasure of Almighty God, die by."

In his last speech of the series, delivered in Harrisburg, before the assembled legislature of Pennsylvania, he happily described another interesting ceremony which had taken place that same morning before leaving Philadelphia:

me upon this occasion. I thank your great commonwealth for the overwhelming support it recently gave, not me personally, but the cause which I think a just one, in the late election. Allusion has been made to the fact the interesting fact, perhaps, we should saythat I for the first time appear at the capital of the great commonwealth of Pennsylvania upon the birthday of the Father of his Country. In connection with that beloved anniversary connected with the history of this country, I have already gone through one exceedat Philadelphia. Under the conduct of gentlemen there, I was for the first time allowed the privilege of standing in the old Independence Hall, to have a few words addressed to me there, and opening up to me an opportunity of expressing, with much regret that I had not more time to express something of my own feelings, excited by the occasion, somewhat to harmonize and give shape to the feelings that had really been the feelings of my whole life. Besides this, our friends there had provided a magnificent flag of the country. They had arranged it so that I was given the honor of raising it. And when it went up, I was pleased that it went to its place by the strength of my own feeble arm. When, according to the arrangement, the cord was pulled, and it floated gloriously to the wind, without an accident, in the bright, glowing sunshine of the morning, I could not help hoping that there was, in the entire success of that beautiful ceremony, at least something of an omen of what is to come. Nor could I help feeling then, as I often have felt, in the whole of that proceeding I was a very humble instrument. I had not provided the flag; I had not made the arrangements for elevating it to its place; I had applied but a very small portion of my feeble strength in raising it. In the whole transaction I was in the hands of the people who had arranged it, and if I can have the same generous ccöperation of the people of the nation, I think the flag of our country may yet be kept flaunting gloriously. I recur for a moment but to repeat some words uttered at the hotel, in regard to what has been said about the military support which the general government may expect from the com. monwealth of Pennsylvania in a proper emergency. To guard against any possible mistake do I recur to this. It is not with any pleasure that I contemplate the possibility that a necessity may arise in this country for the use of the military arm. While I am exceedingly gratified to see the manifestation upon your streets of your military force here, and exceedingly gratified at your promise to use that force upon a proper emergency while I make these acknowledgments I desire to repeat, in order to preclude any possible misconstruction, that Ido most sincerely hope that we shall have no use for them; that it will never become their duty to shed blood, and most especially never to shed fraternal blood. I promise that so far as I may have wisdom to direct, if so painful a result shall in anywise be brought about, it shall be through no fault of mine."

LINCOLN'S SECRET NIGHT JOURNEY.

On the morning of February 23d the whole country was surprised at the telegraphic announcement, coupled with diverse and generally very foggy explanations, that the Presidentelect, after his long and almost triumphal journey in the utmost publicity and with well-nigh universal greetings of good-will, had suddenly abandoned his announced programme and made a quick and secret night journey through Baltimore to the Federal capital. Public opinion at the time, and for years afterward, was puzzled by the event, and the utmost contra

riety of comment, ranging from the highest praise to the severest detraction which caricature, ridicule, and denunciation could express, was long current. In the course of time, the narratives of the princípal actors in the affair have been written down and published,* and a sufficient statement of the facts and motives involved may at length be made. The newspapers stated (without any prompting or suggestion from Mr. Lincoln) that an extensive plot to assassinate him on his expected trip through Baltimore about midday of Saturday had been discovered, which plot the earlier and unknown passage on Friday night disconcerted and prevented. This theory has neither been proved nor disproved by the lapse of time; Mr. Lincoln did not entertain it in this formt nor base his course upon it. But subsequent events did clearly demonstrate the possibility and probability of attempted personal violence from the fanatical impulse of individuals, or the sudden anger of a mob, and justified the propriety of his decision.

The threats of secession, revolution, plots to seize Washington, to burn the public buildings, to prevent the count of electoral votes and the inauguration of the new President, which had for six weeks filled the newspapers of the country, caused much uneasiness about the personal safety of Mr. Lincoln, particularly among the railroad officials over whose lines he was making his journey; and to no one of them so much as to Mr. S. M. Felton, the President of the Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Baltimore Railway, whose line formed the connecting link from the North to the South, from a free to a slave State, from the region of absolute loyalty to the territory of quasirebellion. Independently of politics, the city of Baltimore at that time bore a somewhat unenviable reputation as containing a dangerous and disorderly element; her "roughs" had a degree of newspaper notoriety by no means agreeable to quiet and non-combative strangers. But Baltimore and Maryland were also profoundly moved by the incipient rebellion. Governor Hicks had been plied with persuasion, protest, and even threats of personal violence, to induce him to convene the Maryland legislature, so that secession might begin under a legal pretext. The investigation of the Howard Congressional Committee, though it found no organized plot to seize the capital, gave

*See narrative of S. M. Felton, in Schouler, "Massachusetts in the Civil War," Vol. I., pp. 59-65; Judd to Pinkerton, Nov. 3d, 1867, Edwards, Life of N. B. Judd," pamphlet, pp. 11-17; Pinkerton, "The Spy of the Rebellion," pp. 45-103; Kennedy to Lossing, embracing narrative of Colonel Stone, Lossing, "Civil War," Vol. II., pp. 147-149; Lincoln's statement to Lossing, Ib., Vol. I., pp. 279, 280; Lincoln's statement to Arnold, Arnold, "Lincoln and Slavery," p. 171; and

abundant traces of secession conspiracy of various degrees-especially of half-formed military companies, organizing to prevent Northern troops from passing through Baltimore to Washington or the South. As part and parcel of this scheme, the railroads were to be destroyed and the bridges burned. The events of April, as they actually occurred, had already been planned, informally at least, in January.

Aside from patriotism, the duty of protecting the tracks and bridges of the railroad of which he was president induced Mr. Felton to call to his aid Mr. Allan Pinkerton, chief of a Chicago detective agency, whom he had before employed on an important matter.

"He was a man of great skill and resources," writes Mr. Felton. "I furnished him with a few hints and at once set him on the track with eight assistants. There three military organizations, professedly for home dewere then drilling upon the line of the railroad some fense, pretending to be Union men, and in one or two instances tendering their services to the railroad in case of trouble. Their propositions were duly considered; but the defense of the road was never intrusted to their volunteer in each of these military companies. They tender mercies. The first thing done was to enlist a pretended to come from New Orleans and Mobile, and did not appear to be wanting in sympathy for the South. They were furnished with uniforms at the exates in arms; became initiated into all the secrets of pense of the road, and drilled as often as their associthe organizations, and reported every day or two to their chief, who immediately reported to me the designs and plans of these military companies. One of disloyal, and fully in the plot to destroy the bridges, these organizations was loyal; but the other two were and march to Washington, to wrest it from the hands of the legally constituted authorities. Every nook and corner of the road and its vicinity was explored by the chief and his detectives, and the secret working of secession and treason laid bare and brought to light. Societies were joined in Baltimore, and various modes known to and practiced only by detectives were resorted to, to win the confidence of the conspirators and get into their secrets. The plan worked well; and the midnight plottings and daily consultations of the conspirators were treasured up as a guide to our future plans for thwarting them. It was made as certain as strong circumstantial and positive evidence could make it, that there was a plot to burn the bridges and destroy the road, and murder Mr. Lincoln on his way to Washington, if it turned out that he went there before troops were called. If troops were first called, then the bridges were to be destroyed, and Washing ton cut off and taken possession of by the South. I at once organized and armed a force of about two hundred men, whom I distributed along the line between the Susquehanna and Baltimore, principally at the bridges. These men were drilled secretly and regularly by drill-masters, and were apparently employed in whitewashing the bridges, putting on some six or seven coats of whitewash, saturated with salt and alum,

MS. letters printed in this chapter. Also Lamon, "Life of Lincoln," pp. 511-526.

Mr. Lincoln, long afterward, declared: "I did not then, nor do I now, believe I should have been assassinated, had I gone through Baltimore as first contemplated; but I thought it wise to run no risk, where no risk was necessary." Hon. I. N. Arnold, in his work, "Lincoln and Slavery," adds in a note, p. 171, that the above was "stated to the author by Mr. Lincoln."