Chapter V: To Washington

The Departure--Farewell Remarks--Speech at Toledo--At
Indianapolis--At Cincinnati--At Columbus--At Steubenville--
At Pittsburgh--At Cleveland--At Buffalo--At Albany--At
Poughkeepsie--At New York--At Trenton--At Philadelphia--At
“Independence Hall”--Flag-raising--Speech at Harrisburg--Secret
Departure for Washington--Comments.

Thus matters stood--the air filled with mutterings of an approaching storm--the most filled with a certain undefinable anxiety--the hearts of many failing them through fear--when, on the morning of the 11th of February, 1861, the President elect with his family, bade adieu to that prairie home which, alas! he was never again to see.

* * * * *

The large throng which had assembled at the railway station on the occasion of his departure, he addressed in words replete with the pathos of every true manly nature:

“MY FRIENDS:--No one, not in my position, can appreciate the
sadness I feel at this parting. To this people I owe all that I
am. Here I have lived more than a quarter of a century; here my
children were born, and here one of them lies buried. I know not
how soon I shall see you again. A duty devolves upon me which
is, perhaps, greater than that which has devolved upon any other
man since the days of Washington. He never could have succeeded
except for the aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at all times
relied. I feel that I cannot succeed without the same Divine aid
which sustained him; and in the same Almighty being I place my
reliance for support, and I hope you, my friends, will all pray
that I may receive that Divine assistance, without which I can not
succeed, but with which success is certain. Again, I bid you all an
affectionate farewell.”

Along the route, multitudes gathered at the stations to greet him. At Toledo, Ohio, in reply to repeated calls, he appeared on the platform of the car and said:

“I am leaving you on an errand of national importance, attended, as
you are aware, with considerable difficulties. Let us believe, as
some poet has expressed it, ‘Behind the cloud the sun is shining
still.’ I bid you an affectionate farewell.”

At Indianapolis, on the evening of the same day, in reply to an official address of welcome, he gave the first direct public intimation of his views concerning the absorbing topics of the day, in which homely sense and cheerful pleasantry were blended with a skill beyond the power of mere art:

“FELLOW CITIZENS OF THE STATE OF INDIANA:--I am here to thank you
for this magnificent welcome, and still more for the very 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
whole world. Solomon says, ‘there is a time to keep silence;’ and
when men wrangle by the mouth, with no certainty that they mean the
same thing while using the same words, 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 the exact definitions of these words, not from
dictionaries, but from the men themselves, who certainly deprecate
the things they would represent by the use of the 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 toward them, be invasion? I certainly think it
would, and it would be coercion also, if the South Carolinians were
forced to submit. 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, 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 great affection would seem
to be exceedingly thin and airy. If sick, the little pills of the
homeopathist would be much too large for it to swallow. In their
view, the Union, as a family relation, would seem to be no regular
marriage, but rather a sort of ‘free-love’ arrangement, to be
maintained 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 is a 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 to ruin all which is larger than
itself. If a State and a County, in a given case, should be equal
in number of inhabitants, in what, as a matter of principle, is
the State better than the County? Would an exchange of name be
an exchange of rights? Upon what principle, upon what rightful
principle, may a State, being no more than one-fiftieth part of
the nation in soil and population, break up the nation, and then
coerce a proportionally large sub-division of itself in the most
arbitrary way? What mysterious right to play tyrant is conferred
on a district or country with its people, by merely calling it a
State? Fellow citizens, I am not asserting any thing. I am merely
asking questions for you to consider. And now allow me to bid you
farewell.”

Proceeding to Cincinnati, he received a most enthusiastic welcome. Having been addressed by the mayor of the city, and escorted by a civic and military procession to the Burnet House, he addressed the assemblage in these words:

“FELLOW-CITIZENS: I have spoken but once before this in Cincinnati.
That was a year previous to the late Presidential election. On that
occasion in a playful manner, but with sincere words, I addressed
much of what I said to the Kentuckians. I gave my opinion that we,
as Republicans, would ultimately beat them as Democrats, but that
they could postpone the result longer by nominating Senator Douglas
for the Presidency than they could in any other way. They did not,
in any true sense of the word, nominate Mr. Douglas, and the result
has come certainly as soon as ever I expected.

“I also told them how I expected they would be treated after they
should have been beaten, and now wish to call their attention to
what I then said:

“‘When we do, as we say we will, beat you, you perhaps want to
know what we will do with you. I will tell you--as far as I
am authorized to speak for the opposition--what we mean to do
with you. We mean to treat you as near as we possibly can, as
Washington, Jefferson, and Madison treated you. We mean to leave
you alone, and in no way to interfere with your institutions; to
abide by all and every compromise of the Constitution. In a word,
coming back to the original proposition, to treat you, as far as
degenerate men--if we have degenerated--may, according to the
example of those noble fathers, Washington, Jefferson, and Madison.
We mean to remember that you are as good as we; that there is no
difference between us other than the difference of circumstances.
We mean to recognize and bear in mind always that you have as good
hearts in your bosoms as other people, or as we claim to have, and
to treat you accordingly.’

“Fellow-citizens of Kentucky, friends, brethren: May I call you
such? In my new position I see no occasion and feel no inclination
to retract a word of this. If it shall not be made good be assured
that the fault shall not be mine.”

On the next morning he left Cincinnati, and arrived at Columbus, where he was received with every demonstration of enthusiasm. He visited the Governor in the Executive Chamber, and was subsequently introduced to the members of the Legislature in joint session, when he was formally welcomed by the Lieutenant-Governor, to whom Mr. Lincoln responded in these words:

“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 people 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 upon the Father of his Country. And so feeling, I cannot but
turn and look for the 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, from others
some depreciation. I still think I was right. In the varying and
repeatedly shifting scenes of the present, without a precedent
which could enable me to judge for the past, it has seemed fitting,
that before speaking upon the difficulties of the country I should
have gained a view of the whole field. To be sure, after all, I
would be at liberty to modify and change the course of policy as
future events might make a change necessary.

“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
any thing. This is a most consoling circumstance, and from it I
judge that all we want is time and patience, and a reliance on that
God who has never forsaken this people.”

On the 14th of February, Mr. Lincoln proceeded to Pittsburgh. At Steubenville, on the route, in reply to an address, he said:

“I fear 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 wanted 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 difficulties. The only
dispute is ‘What are their rights?’ If the majority should not
rule who should 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.” He reiterated, the majority
should rule. If he adopted a wrong policy, then the opportunity to
condemn him would occur in four years’ time. “Then I can be turned
out and a better man with better views put in my place.”

The next morning he left for Cleveland, but before his departure he made an address to the people of Pittsburgh, in which he said:

“In every short address I have made to the people, and in every
crowd through which I have passed of late, some allusion has
been made to the present distracted condition of the country.
It is naturally expected that I should say something upon this
subject, but to touch upon it at all would involve an elaborate
discussion of a great many questions and circumstances, would
require more time than I can at present command, and would perhaps
unnecessarily commit me upon matters which have not yet fully
developed themselves.

“The condition of the country, fellow-citizens, is an extraordinary
one, and fills the mind of every patriot with anxiety and
solicitude. My intention is to give this subject all the
consideration which I possibly can before I speak fully and
definitely in regard to it, so that, when I do speak, I may be as
nearly right as possible. And when I do speak, fellow-citizens,
I hope to say nothing in opposition to the spirit of the
Constitution, contrary to the integrity of the Union, or which will
in any way prove inimical to the liberties of the people or to the
peace of the whole country. And, furthermore, when the time arrives
for me to speak on this great subject, I hope to say nothing
which will disappoint the reasonable expectations of any man, or
disappoint the people generally throughout the country, especially
if their expectations have been based upon any thing which I may
have heretofore said.

“Notwithstanding the troubles across the river [the speaker,
smiling, pointed southwardly to the Monongahela river], there is
really no crisis springing from any thing in the Government itself.
In plain words, there is really no crisis except an artificial one.
What is there now to warrant the condition of affairs presented
by our friends ‘over the river?’ Take even their own view of the
questions involved, and there is nothing to justify the course
which they are pursuing. I repeat it, then, there is no crisis,
except such a one as may be gotten up at any time by turbulent
men, aided by designing politicians. My advice, then, under such
circumstances, is to keep cool. If the great American people will
only keep their temper on both sides of the line, the trouble will
come to an end, and the question which now distracts the country
will be settled just as surely as all other difficulties of like
character which have originated in this government have been
adjusted. Let the people on both sides keep their self-possession,
and just as other clouds have cleared away in due time, so
will this, and this great nation shall continue to prosper as
heretofore.”

He then referred to the subject of the tariff, and said:

“According to my political education, I am inclined to believe that
the people in the various portions of the country should have their
own views carried out through their representatives in Congress.
That consideration of the tariff bill should not be postponed until
the next session of the National Legislature. No subject should
engage your representatives more closely than that of the tariff.
If I have any recommendation to make, it will be that every man who
is called upon to serve the people, in a representative capacity,
should study the whole subject thoroughly, as I intend to do
myself, looking to all the varied interests of the common country,
so that, when the time for action arrives, adequate protection
shall be extended to the coal and iron of Pennsylvania, and the
corn of Illinois. Permit me to express the hope that this important
subject may receive such consideration at the hands of your
representatives that the interests of no part of the country may be
overlooked, but that all sections may share in the common benefits
of a just and equitable tariff.”

Mr. Lincoln, upon his arrival in Cleveland, adverted to the same subject in the following terms:

“It is with you, the people, to advance the great cause of the
Union and the Constitution, and not with any one man. It rests
with you alone. This fact is strongly impressed on my mind at
present. In a community like this, whose appearance testifies to
their intelligence, I am convinced that the cause of liberty and
the Union can never be in danger. Frequent allusion is made to the
excitement at present existing in national politics. I think there
is no occasion for any excitement. The crisis, as it is called, is
altogether an artificial crisis. In all parts of the nation, there
are differences of opinion in politics. There are differences
of opinion even here. You did not all vote for the person who
now addresses you. And how is it with those who are not here?
Have they not all their rights as they ever had? Do they not have
their fugitive slaves returned now as ever? Have they not the same
Constitution that they have lived under for seventy odd years? Have
they not a position as citizens of this common country, and have
we any power to change that position? What, then, is the matter
with them? Why all this excitement? Why all these complaints? As I
said before, this crisis is all artificial. It has no foundation in
fact. It was ‘argued up,’ as the saying is, and cannot be argued
down. Let it alone, and it will go down itself.”

On Saturday he proceeded to Buffalo, where he arrived at evening, and was met by an immense concourse of citizens headed by Ex-President Fillmore.

Arriving at the hotel, Mr. Lincoln was welcomed in a brief speech by the acting chief magistrate, to which he made a brief reply, as follows:

“MR. MAYOR AND FELLOW CITIZENS:--I am here to thank you briefly
for this grand reception given to me not personally, but as the
representative of our great and beloved country. Your worthy Mayor
has been pleased to mention in his address to me, the fortunate and
agreeable journey which I have had from home--only it is rather
a circuitous route to the Federal Capitol. I am very happy that
he was enabled, in truth, to congratulate myself and company on
that fact. It is true, we have had nothing thus far to mar the
pleasure of the trip. We have not been met alone by those who
assisted in giving the election to me; I say not alone, but by
the whole population of the country through which we have passed.
This is as it should be. Had the election fallen to any other of
the distinguished candidates instead of myself, under the peculiar
circumstances, to say the least, it would have been proper for
all citizens to have greeted him as you now greet me. It is an
evidence of the devotion of the whole people to the Constitution,
the Union, and the perpetuity of the liberties of this country. I
am unwilling, on any occasion, that I should be so meanly thought
of as to have it supposed for a moment that these demonstrations
are tendered to me personally. They are tendered to the country,
to the institutions of the country, and to the perpetuity of the
liberties of the country for which these institutions were made
and created. Your worthy mayor has thought fit to express the hope
that I may be able to relieve the country from the present, or, I
should say, the threatened difficulties. I am sure I bring a heart
true to the work. For the ability to perform it, I trust in that
Supreme Being who has never forsaken this favored land, through the
instrumentality of this great and intelligent people. Without that
assistance I should surely fail; with it I cannot fail. When we
speak of the threatened difficulties to the country, it is natural
that it should be expected that something should be said by myself
with regard to particular measures. Upon more mature reflection,
however, I think,--and others will agree with me--that, when it is
considered that these difficulties are without precedent, and never
have been acted upon by any individual situated as I am, it is most
proper that I should wait and see the developments, and get all the
light possible, so that, when I do speak authoritatively, I may
be as near right as possible. When I shall speak authoritatively,
I hope to say nothing inconsistent with the Constitution, the
Union, the rights of all the States, of each State, and of each
section of the country, and not to disappoint the reasonable
expectations of those who have confided to me their votes. In this
connection, allow me to say that you, as a portion of the great
American people, need only to maintain your composure, stand up
to your sober convictions of right, to your obligations to the
Constitution, and act in accordance with those sober convictions,
and the clouds which now arise in the horizon will be dispelled,
and we shall have a bright and glorious future; and, when this
generation shall have passed away, tens of thousands shall inhabit
this country where only thousands inhabit it now. I do not propose
to address you at length. I have no voice for it. Allow me again to
thank you for this magnificent reception, and bid you farewell.”

Mr. Lincoln then proceeded from Buffalo to Albany. Here he was met by the Mayor, the City Councils, and the Legislative Committees, and was conducted to the Capitol, where he was welcomed by Governor Morgan, and responded briefly, as follows:

“GOVERNOR MORGAN:--I was pleased to receive an invitation to visit
the capital of the great Empire State of this nation, while on my
way to the Federal capital. I now thank you, and you, the people
of the capital of the State of New York, for this most hearty
and magnificent welcome. If I am not at fault, the great Empire
State at this time contains a larger population than did the whole
of the United States of America at the time they achieved their
national independence; and I was proud to be invited to visit its
capital, to meet its citizens as I now have the honor to do. I
am notified by your governor that this reception is tendered by
citizens without distinction of party. Because of this, I accept it
the more gladly. In this country, and in any country where freedom
of thought is tolerated, citizens attach themselves to political
parties. It is but an ordinary degree of charity to attribute this
act to the supposition that, in thus attaching themselves to the
various parties, each man, in his own judgment, supposes he thereby
best advances the interests of the whole country. And when an
election is passed, it is altogether befitting a free people that,
until the next election, they should be one people. The reception
you have extended me to-day is not given to me personally. It
should not be so, but as the representative, for the time being, of
the majority of the nation. If the election had fallen to any of
the more distinguished citizens, who received the support of the
people, this same honor should have greeted him that greets me this
day, in testimony of the unanimous devotion of the whole people
to the Constitution, the Union, and to the perpetual liberties of
succeeding generations in this country. I have neither the voice
nor the strength to address you at any greater length. I beg you
will, therefore, accept my most grateful thanks for this manifest
devotion--not to me but to the institutions of this great and
glorious country.”

He was then conducted to the Legislative halls, where, in reply to an address of welcome, he again adverted to the troubles of the country in the following terms:

“MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN OF THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF
NEW YORK:--It is with feelings of great diffidence, and, I may
say, feelings even of awe, perhaps greater than I have recently
experienced, that I meet you here in this place. The history of
this great State, the renown of its great men, who have stood in
this chamber, and have spoken their thoughts, all crowd around my
fancy, and incline me to shrink from an attempt to address you. Yet
I have some confidence given me by the generous manner in which
you have invited me, and the still more generous manner in which
you have received me. You have invited me and received me without
distinction of party. I could not for a moment suppose that this
has been done in any considerable degree with any reference to
my personal self. It is very much more grateful to me that this
reception and the invitation preceding it were given to me as
the representative of a free people, than it could possibly have
been were they but the evidence of devotion to me or to any one
man. It is true that, while I hold myself, without mock-modesty,
the humblest of all the individuals who have ever been elected
President of the United States, I yet have a more difficult task to
perform than any one of them has ever encountered. You have here
generously tendered me the support, the united support, of the
great Empire State. For this, in behalf of the nation--in behalf
of the President and of the future of the nation--in behalf of
the cause of civil liberty in all time to come--I most gratefully
thank you. I do not propose now to enter upon any expressions as
to the particular line of policy to be adopted with reference
to the difficulties that stand before us in the opening of the
incoming administration. I deem that it is just to the country, to
myself, to you, that I should see every thing, hear every thing,
and have every light that can possibly be brought within my reach
to aid me before I shall speak officially, in order that, when I
do speak, I may have the best possible means of taking correct and
true grounds. For this reason, I do not now announce any thing in
the way of policy for the new Administration. When the time comes,
according to the custom of the Government, I shall speak, and speak
as well as I am able for the good of the present and of the future
of this country--for the good of the North and of the South--for
the good of one and of the other, and of all sections of it. In
the meantime, if we have patience, if we maintain our equanimity,
though some may allow themselves to run off in a burst of passion,
I still have confidence that the Almighty Ruler of the Universe,
through the instrumentality of this great and intelligent people,
can and will bring us through this difficulty, as he has heretofore
brought us through all preceding difficulties of the country.
Relying upon this, and again thanking you, as I forever shall, in
my heart, for this generous reception you have given me, I bid you
farewell.”

At Albany, he was met by a delegation from the city authorities of New York, and on the 19th started for that city. At Poughkeepsie, he was welcomed by the Mayor of the city. Mr. Lincoln, in reply, said:

“I am grateful for this cordial welcome, and I am gratified
that this immense multitude has come together not to meet the
individual man, but the man who, for the time being, will humbly
but earnestly represent the majesty of the nation. These receptions
have been given me at other places, and, as here, by men of
different parties, and not by one party alone. It shows an earnest
effort on the part of all to save, not the country, for the country
can save itself, but to save the institutions of the country--those
institutions under which, for at least three-quarters of a
century, we have become the greatest, the most intelligent, and
the happiest people in the world. These manifestations show that
we all make common cause for these objects; that if some of us
are successful in an election, and others are beaten, those who
are beaten are not in favor of sinking the ship in consequence
of defeat, but are earnest in their purpose to sail it safely
through the voyage in hand, and, in so far as they may think there
has been any mistake in the election, satisfying themselves to
take their chance of setting the matter right the next time. That
course is entirely right. I am not sure--I do not pretend to be
sure--that in the election of the individual who has been elected
this term, the wisest choice has been made. I fear it has not. In
the purposes and in the principles that have been sustained, I
have been the instrument selected to carry forward the affairs of
this Government. I can rely upon you, and upon the people of the
country; and with their sustaining hand, I think that even I shall
not fail in carrying the Ship of State through the storm.”

The reception of President Lincoln in New York City was a most imposing demonstration. Places of business were generally closed, and hundreds of thousands were in the streets. On the next day, he was welcomed to the city by Mayor Wood, and replied as follows:

“MR. MAYOR: It is with feelings of deep gratitude that I make my
acknowledgments for the reception given me in the great commercial
city of New York. I cannot but remember that this is done by
a people who do not, by a majority, agree with me in political
sentiment. It is the more grateful, because in this I see that,
for the great principles of our Government, the people are almost
unanimous. In regard to the difficulties that confront us at
this time, and of which your Honor has thought fit to speak so
becomingly and so justly, as I suppose, I can only say that I agree
in the sentiments expressed. In my devotion to the Union, I hope I
am behind no man in the nation. In the wisdom with which to conduct
the affairs tending to the preservation of the Union, I fear that
too great confidence may have been reposed in me; but I am sure I
bring a heart devoted to the work. There is nothing that could ever
bring me to willingly consent to the destruction of this Union,
under which not only the great commercial city of New York, but the
whole country, acquired its greatness, except it be the purpose
for which the Union itself was formed. I understand the ship to be
made for the carrying and the preservation of the cargo, and so
long as the ship can be saved with the cargo, it should never be
abandoned, unless it fails the possibility of its preservation,
and shall cease to exist, except at the risk of throwing overboard
both freight and passengers. So long, then, as it is possible that
the prosperity and the liberties of the people be preserved in this
Union, it shall be my purpose at all times to use all my powers to
aid in its perpetuation. Again thanking you for the reception given
me, allow me to come to a close.”

On the next day he left for Philadelphia. At Trenton he remained a few hours, and visited both Houses of the Legislature. On being received in the Senate, he thus addressed that body:

“MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN OF THE SENATE OF THE STATE OF NEW
JERSEY:--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 early Revolutionary
struggle, few of the States among the old Thirteen had more of the
battle-fields of the country within its limits than old 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 my memory more than
any single revolutionary event; and you all know, for you have all
been boys, how these early impressions last longer than any others.
I recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must
have been something more than common that those men struggled for.
I am exceedingly anxious that that thing which they struggled
for--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 Constitutional President of the United States--as citizens
of the United States, to meet the man who, for the time being,
is the representative man of the nation, united by a purpose to
perpetuate the Union and liberties of the people. As such, I accept
this reception more gratefully than I could do did I believe it was
tendered to me as an individual.”

He then passed into the Chamber of the Assembly, and upon being introduced by the Speaker, addressed that body as follows:

“MR. SPEAKER AND GENTLEMEN:--I have just enjoyed the honor of a
reception by the other branch of this Legislature, and I return to
you and them my thanks for the reception which the people of New
Jersey have given, through their chosen representatives, to me,
as the representative, for the time being, of the majesty of the
people of the United States. I appropriate to myself very little
of the demonstrations of respect with which I have been greeted.
I think little should be given to any man, but that it should be
a manifestation of adherence to the Union and the Constitution. I
understand myself to be received here by the representatives of the
people of New Jersey, a majority of whom differ in opinion from
those with whom I have acted. This manifestation is therefore to
be regarded by me as expressing their devotion to the Union, the
Constitution, and the liberties of the people. You, Mr. Speaker,
have well said, that this is the time when the bravest and wisest
look 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 avail myself of all the
information and all the time at my command, in order that when the
time arrives in which I must speak officially, I shall be able to
take the ground which I deem the best and safest, and from which I
may have no occasion to swerve. I shall endeavor to take 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 towards any section. I shall do all that may be in
my power to promote a peaceful settlement of all our difficulties.
The man does not live who is more devoted to peace than I am--none
who would do more to preserve it. But it may be necessary to put
the foot down firmly. And if I do my duty, and do right, you will
sustain me, will you not? Received, as I am, by the members of a
Legislature, the majority of whom do not agree with me in political
sentiments, I trust that I may have their assistance in piloting
the Ship of State through this voyage, surrounded by perils as it
is; for if it should suffer shipwreck now, there will be no pilot
ever needed for another voyage.”

On his arrival in Philadelphia, he was received with great enthusiasm, and to an address from the Mayor Mr. Lincoln replied:

“MR. MAYOR AND FELLOW-CITIZENS OF PHILADELPHIA:--I appear before
you to make no lengthy speech but to thank you for this reception.
The reception you have given me to-night is not to me, the man, the
individual, but to the man who temporarily represents, or should
represent, the majesty of the nation. It is true, as your worthy
Mayor has said, that there is anxiety among the citizens of the
United States at this time. I deem it a happy circumstance that
this dissatisfied portion of our fellow-citizens do not point us
to any thing in which they are being injured, or are about to be
injured; for which reason I have felt all the while justified in
concluding that the crisis, the panic, the anxiety of the country
at this time, is artificial. If there be those who differ with
me upon this subject, they have not pointed out the substantial
difficulty that exists. I do not mean to say that an artificial
panic may not do considerable harm; that it has done such I do not
deny. The hope that has been expressed by your Mayor, that I may be
able to restore peace, harmony, and prosperity to the country, is
most worthy of him; and happy indeed will I be if I shall be able
to verify and fulfil that hope. I promise you, in all sincerity,
that I bring to the work a sincere heart. Whether I will bring a
head equal to that heart, will be for future times to determine.
It were useless for me to speak of details or plans now; I shall
speak officially next Monday week, if ever. If I should not speak
then, it were useless for me to do so now. If I do speak then,
it is useless for me to do so now. When I do speak, I shall take
such grounds as I deem best calculated to restore peace, harmony,
and prosperity to the country, and tend to the perpetuity of the
nation, and the liberty of these States and these people. Your
worthy Mayor has expressed the wish, in which I join with him, that
if it were convenient for me to remain with your city long enough
to consult your merchants and manufacturers; or, as it were, to
listen to those breathings rising within the consecrated walls
wherein the Constitution of the United States, and, I will add, the
Declaration of Independence, were originally framed and adopted.
I assure you and your Mayor, that I had hoped on this occasion,
and upon all occasions during my life, that I shall do nothing
inconsistent with the teachings of these holy and most sacred
walls. I never asked any thing that does not breathe from those
walls. All my political warfare has been in favor of the teachings
that come forth from these sacred walls. May my right hand forget
its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if ever
I prove false to those teachings. Fellow-citizens, now allow me to
bid you good-night.”

On the next morning Mr. Lincoln visited the old “Independence Hall,” for the purpose of raising the national flag over it. Here he was received with a warm welcome, and made the following address:

“I am filled with deep emotion at finding myself standing here,
in this place, where were collected 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 the present distracted
condition of the country. I can say in return, sir, 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 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 of Independence. 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 the separation
of the colonies from the mother-land, but that sentiment in the
Declaration of Independence which gave liberty, not alone to the
people of this country, but, I hope, to 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. This is a sentiment
embodied in the Declaration of Independence. Now, my friends, can
this country be saved upon this 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 need be no bloodshed or 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 blood shed unless it be
forced upon the government, and then it will be compelled to act in
self-defence.

“My friends, this is wholly an unexpected speech, and I did not
expect to be called upon to say a word when I came here. I supposed
it was merely to do something towards raising the flag. I may,
therefore, have said something indiscreet. I have said nothing
but what I am willing to live by, and, if it be the pleasure of
Almighty God, to die by.”

The party then proceeded to a platform erected in front of the State House, when the President-elect was invited to raise the flag. Mr. Lincoln responded in a brief speech, stating his cheerful compliance with the request, and alluded to the original flag of thirteen stars, saying that the number had increased as time rolled on, and we now became a happy and a powerful people, each star adding to its prosperity. “The future,” he added, “is in the hands of the people. It is on such an occasion as this that we can reason together, reaffirm our devotion to the country and the principles of the Declaration of Independence. Let us make up our mind, that when we do put a new star upon our banner, it shall be a fixed one, never to be dimmed by the horrors of war, but brightened by the contentment and prosperity of peace. Let us go on to extend the area of our usefulness, add star upon star, until their light shall shine upon five hundred millions of a free and happy people.”

The President-elect then raised the flag to the top of the staff.

At half-past 9 o’clock the party left for Harrisburg. Both Houses of the Legislature were visited by Mr. Lincoln, and to an address of welcome he thus replied:

“I appear before you only for a very few brief remarks, in response
to what has been said to me. I thank you most sincerely for this
reception, and the generous words in which support has been
promised me upon this occasion. I thank your great commonwealth for
the overwhelming support it recently gave, not to 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 say--that 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 exceedingly interesting scene this morning in the
ceremonies at Philadelphia. Under the high conduct of gentlemen
there, I was, for the first time, allowed the privilege of standing
in 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 been really 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 to the head of its staff. 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 flaunted 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
coöperation 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 Commonwealth 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 here to use that force upon
a proper emergency--while I make these acknowledgements, I desire
to repeat, in order to preclude any possible misconstruction,
that I do 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 have wisdom to direct, if so painful a result shall in any
wise be brought about, it shall be through no fault of mine.
Allusion has also been made by one of your honored speakers to some
remark recently made by myself at Pittsburg, in regard to what is
supposed to be the especial interest of this great Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania. I now wish only to say, in regard to that matter,
that the few remarks which I uttered on that occasion were rather
carefully worded. I took pains that they should be so. I have seen
no occasion since to add to them or subtract from them. I leave
them precisely as they stand, adding only now, that I am pleased to
have an expression from you, gentlemen of Pennsylvania, significant
that they are satisfactory to you. And now, gentlemen of the
General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, allow me to
return you again my most sincere thanks.”

Arrangements had been made for his departure from Harrisburg on the following morning; but the timely discovery of a plot to assassinate him on his way through Baltimore--a plot in which several of the leading citizens of that place were believed to be interested, although the work was to be done by other hands--caused a change in the schedule, and on the evening of the day on which he had been received by the Legislature, he left on a special train for Philadelphia, and thence proceeded in the sleeping-car attached to the regular midnight train to Washington, where he arrived at an early hour on the morning of the 23d.

As an evidence how little the extent to which unscrupulous men were prepared to go, was understood at this time, it may be remarked that not a few made themselves very merry over this midnight ride--a leading pictorial even indulging itself in an attempt at a humorous illustration of it, an act which, viewed in the light of a startling event but little more than four years later, in which a native of the same city was directly concerned, would hardly have been repeated.