Stanton
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8 To Watson, March 2, 10, 14, 1858, owned by Edward S. Corwin; Flower, “McCormick vs. Manny,” 25, and 20 Howard, 402–12, on the Reaper appeal. To Ellen, Feb. 28, March 4, 6, 16, 1858, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton.
9 Stanton to Black, April 16, 1858, Black Papers, LC; to Watson, April 2, and to Ellen, March 11, 12, 1858, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton; Gorham, Stanton, I, 52, refers to a diary kept by Stanton in California, but it can no longer be found.
10 Land Claim Report, 31; Gorham, Stanton, I, 55–6; Stanton to Watson, Aug. 4, 1858, CHS; H. W. Shutes, “Henry Wager Halleck,” CalHS Quarterly, XVI, 197.
11 Harrison to Black, June 4, 1858, Black Papers, LC; Stanton to Watson, May 7, 1858, in possession of Ralph G. Newman; to Ellen, undated, and to Umbstaetter, April 19, 1858, owned by Edward S. Corwin; and to Ellen, March 21, April 11, 1858, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton.
12 Stanton to Ellen, July 5, Aug. 17, 1858, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton; to Black, Aug. 1, and R. B. Taney to Black, Sept. 10, 1858, Black Papers, LC; Gorham, Stanton, I, 55–6, 77–8.
13 In 1863, Stanton had the satisfaction of learning that the Supreme Court, employing his evidence, voided both the company’s land claim and its mining grant. Halleck to E. A. Hitchcock, March 31, 1862, Hitchcock Papers, LC; Shutes, “Henry Wager Halleck,” loc. cit., 195–208; Land Titles in California, House Exec. Doc. 17, 31st Cong., 1st sess., 118–82; 67 U.S. Reports, 17–371; Stanton to Watson, Aug. 4, 1858, CHS; same, April 3, June 19, Sept. 3, Oct. 16, 1858, owned by Edward S. Corwin; Gorham, Stanton, I, 64–5.
14 Stanton to Watson, Nov. 25, 1858, owned by the estate of Foreman M. Lebold; Eddie to “Ellie,” Sept. 19, 1858, owned by Mrs. Van Swearingen; Stanton to Ellen, Sept. ?, 19, 1858, Jan. 14, 1859, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton; to Black, April 19, 1858, Black Papers, LC; and to Watson, April 18, Aug. 19, 1858, owned by Edward S. Corwin. On the significance of Stanton’s work, see Caughey, op. cit., 306–15; Alston G. Field, “Attorney-General Black and the California Land Claims,” PHR, IV, 235–45.
15 Shunk to Black, Oct. 12, Nov. 10, 14, 23, 1860, Black Papers, LC. Mary Della Torre to same, April 26, June 19, 1870, Stanton to same, July 24, 1860, and James Buchanan, Jr., to same, Nov. 13, 1860, ibid., cover Stanton’s efforts to get these and other persons paid; and see his letter to Treasury official George Harrington, Sept. 10, 1862, William K. Bixby Collection, MoHS; same to Eben Faxon, June 20, 1859, Simon Gratz Papers, HSP; same to same, May 14, 1860, MHS.
16 D. H. Hamilton to Black, July 6, 1867, Black Papers, LC; Stanton to Ogden Hoffman, April 27, 1859, and to G. Upton, March 7, 1859, HL.
17 Trial of the Hon. Daniel E. Sickles for Shooting Philip Barton Key, Esq., Reported by Felix G. Fontaine (New York, 1859), 35–40; Harper’s Weekly, III, covered the trial in its issues of March 12 to May 14, 1859.
18 Olive to Cornelius Cole, April 22, 1868, UCLA; Allan Nevins and Milton Halsey Thomas (eds.), The Diary of George Templeton Strong (New York, 1952), II, 440–1, 448 (hereafter cited as Strong, Diary); Richard B. Morris, Fair Trial (New York, 1952), 225, 253.
19 Wolcott MS, 133, 165; Stanton to William Stanton, March 13, May 18, 26, 1859, owned by William Stanton Picher; to son Eddie, Oct. 31, 1859, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton; to Lewis Hutchison, Oct. 27, 1859, Lee-Kohn Memorial Collection, NYPL; to Ogden Hoffman, April 27, 1859, HL; to Black, May 1, 1859, Black Papers, LC. See also Jacob R. Shipard, History of the Oberlin-Wellington Rescue (Cleveland, 1859), 195–225; and on the new house, Recorder of Deeds, District of Columbia, J.A.S. Vol. 185, pp. 136–7.
20 To Medary, June 4, 1860, BU.
21 Wolcott MS, 165–6; Stanton to Eben Faxon, Dec. 7, 1859, YU; same to same, May 14, 1860, Norcross Papers, MHS; to Ellen, May 9, 1860, owned by Gideon Townsend Stanton; undated memo, “To the Public,” in Black’s handwriting, Black Papers, Vol. 51, No. 59812–23, LC.
22 Gorham, Stanton, I, 94–110; “To the Public,” Black Papers, LC; Black’s reminiscence in Philadelphia Weekly Press, Aug. 11, 1881. In 1869, Stanton recollected that Buchanan had asked him to draw up a brief against nullification and secession and that he had complied; it appears he confused his work on the Black draft with the one he thought he had written for the President. See memo of John C. Ropes, Feb. 8, 1870, of a conversation with Stanton in Sept. 1869, Horatio Woodman Papers, MHS, and Philip G. Auchampaugh, James Buchanan and His Cabinet on the Eve of Secession (Lancaster, 1926), 75. Montgomery Blair, repeating an anonymous recollection he probably inspired in the New York World, June 3, 1865, asserted in his The Rebellion—Where the Guilt Lies: Speech … Aug. 25, 1865 (n.p., n.d.), 15, and in the 1868 election campaign (Harper’s Monthly Magazine, XXXVIII, 155) that Stanton applauded Jefferson Davis’s secessionist speeches in the Senate in 1860. The weight of evidence, however, supports Stanton’s unionism. However he felt, he would scarcely have publicly advocated secession.
23 Memo of H. H. Leavitt, Oct. 1865, Stanton MSS; A. R. Newsome (ed.), “Letters of Lawrence O’Bryan Branch,” NCHR, X, 79; James D. Richardson (comp.), A Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents, 1789–1902 (Washington, 1907), V, 626–53 (cited hereafter as Richardson, Messages and Papers).
24 The major narrative is from Stanton’s own account in Wolcott MS, 168–71; Ropes’s memo of conversation with Stanton in Sept. 1869, Horatio Woodman Papers, MHS; letters of Pamphila in New York Sun, March 14, 1892; and Flower, Stanton, 85. Other data in Black, “Mr. Black to Mr. Wilson,” loc. cit., 260–1; Stanton to Jacob Brinkerhoff, Jan. 20, 1861, Personal-Miscellaneous Papers, LC; Buchanan to Harriet Lane, Nov. 4, 1860, Buchanan-Johnston Papers, LC.
CHAPTER V
FIRST BLOW FOR THE UNION
STANTON found little to encourage him in what he knew of the President and his suspicious and rancorous cabinet colleagues. Buchanan, nearing seventy, tired, infirm, and nervous, though wise in his resolve to avoid provocative action so long as compromise or sober second thought might reconcile the sections, lacked the courage, initiative, and will power to implement such a policy. A long career in politics had made him cynical and coldly calculating; his habit of taking the indirect approach degenerated at times into craftiness. Though anxious to preserve the Union, he felt in his heart that the South’s grievances were just. He interpreted the Republican triumph of 1860 as a personal defeat; in resisting it, the Southern states were vindicating him.
Cobb’s resignation had removed a blatant secessionist influence from the cabinet, but still vying with Black for Buchanan’s ear were Jacob Thompson, of Mississippi, Secretary of the Interior, Philip F. Thomas, of Maryland, Cobb’s successor at the Treasury, and John B. Floyd, of Virginia, Secretary of War. Thompson, a genial, able man, though moved by real loyalty to Buchanan, felt a higher loyalty to his state, and went no further in opposing secession than to suggest that overt action be postponed until the Republicans took office on March 4. Thomas was wholeheartedly sympathetic toward the South; and though Floyd, like most Virginians, had opposed secession thus far, he had been under the critical scrutiny of Republican congressmen because of his partisan, loose, and inefficient conduct of his office. Buchanan had asked for his resignation, which Floyd was reluctant to submit. Now, opposition to a firm policy on the part of Buchanan might afford Floyd a means of saving face.1
The fourth Southerner in the cabinet was Postmaster General Joseph Holt, from the border state of Kentucky, a champion of Buchanan’s anti-abolitionist stand. Holt renounced secession as the South’s rightful remedy, however, and Black and Stanton would find in him a staunch if unexpected ally.
Besides Black and Stanton, Isaac Toucey, of Connecticut, Secretary of the Navy, was the only other Northerner in the cabinet. But they could count on little help from him. Sympathizing, much as Buchanan did, with the position of the South, he usually waited for the President to speak, then echoed his opinions.
The very morning that Stanton entered upon his duties, news came that Major Robert Anderson, commanding the defenses of Charleston Harbor, had moved his scanty garrison f
rom its exposed position at Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter, a newly finished brick-and-mortar stronghold on a sand bar near the middle of the harbor. The “independent” state of South Carolina chose to interpret Anderson’s move not only as a hostile act but as a breach of faith as well. For on December 9, in equivocal words that had been interpreted as a pledge, Buchanan had told a delegation of South Carolina congressmen that he had no intention of reinforcing the forts or altering the disposition of the troops unless South Carolina moved to take possession of government property.
About the same time that Buchanan’s interview with the South Carolinians took place, Captain Don Carlos Buell, whom Floyd had sent to Charleston to appraise the situation, told Anderson to dispose his force in the safest manner, either at Moultrie or Sumter, whenever he had “tangible evidence of a design to proceed to a hostile act.” Buell, returning to Washington, had Floyd endorse a memorandum approving the instructions he had given to Anderson. The secession of South Carolina made Anderson’s position both crucial and perilous; and on December 21, Buchanan had allowed Black to draw up new instructions for the commander, which Floyd signed. Anderson was to “exercise a sound military discretion” but not to incur a “useless waste of life.” If attacked by overwhelming force, he should yield on the best terms obtainable.
On December 26, three South Carolina commissioners had arrived in Washington from Charleston to negotiate a treaty of friendship between the new “republic” and the United States. William H. Trescott, also a South Carolinian, who had resigned as Assistant Secretary of State when his state seceded, asked Buchanan to receive them. To do so officially would be to recognize South Carolina as an independent nation. Buchanan hesitated but finally agreed to consult with them the next day, but merely as private gentlemen, and to communicate to Congress any proposals they chose to offer.
But then came news of Anderson’s surprising move. Trescott, along with two Southern senators, Jefferson Davis and R. M. T. Hunter, hastened to the White House and reported the developments to the President. Buchanan swore to God that Anderson’s change of position had been against his orders and policy. The Southerners urged him to order Anderson back to Moultrie, reminding him that to do otherwise might mean war. But Buchanan, though fearful and excited, was also extremely stubborn. He refused to be rushed into action, and after postponing his meeting with the commissioners until the next day, called a cabinet meeting.
Stanton was arguing a case in the Supreme Court when he received news of Anderson’s action. Excusing himself, he started for his office. On the steps of the Capitol he met Wolcott, who urged him to support Anderson. Stanton vowed that he would, though he “could not guess what aspect the treason might now assume.”
Arriving at his office, Stanton found a summons to the cabinet meeting, the first that he would attend. When he walked in, somewhat late, Floyd was denouncing Anderson for acting without orders. A messenger, dispatched to the War Department, brought back Buell’s memorandum, endorsed by Floyd. But, declared Floyd, Anderson had no “tangible evidence of a design to proceed to a hostile act.” Black, Stanton, and Holt came to Anderson’s support. Arrayed against them were Floyd, Thompson, Toucey, and Thomas.
Black wanted to know about Buchanan’s alleged pledge to South Carolina. When and where had the pledge been made? Floyd and Thompson insisted to Buchanan’s face, without his contradicting them, that he had promised to maintain the status quo in Charleston Harbor unless the forts were attacked. The meeting became a wrangle.
Floyd wrote out a demand that the federal troops be withdrawn from Charleston Harbor altogether. Black snapped out that if any English minister had ever advocated the apathetic surrender of a defensible fortress to the enemy, as Floyd was doing, he would have lost his head on the block. Stanton added that to give up Sumter would be a crime equal to Benedict Arnold’s and that anyone participating in it would deserve to be hanged like Major André. Floyd and Thompson started angrily from their seats, but Buchanan, raising his hands deprecatingly, said: “Oh, no! Not so bad as that, my friend—not so bad as that!”2
The meeting lasted until after dark and was resumed that evening. When the tired and angry cabinet members at last trooped off to bed, Buchanan had reached no decision. Next morning, December 28, brought news that Governor Pickens had seized the abandoned Fort Moultrie and the defenseless Castle Pinckney, the third fort in Charleston Harbor, along with the arsenal, the post office, and the customhouse. Decrepit old Winfield Scott, commander in chief of the armies, after a sleepless night, urged that not only Sumter but all other key forts in the South be immediately reinforced lest they be taken by surprise.
When Buchanan met the South Carolina commissioners that afternoon, they accused him of breaking his word to the South Carolina congressmen. Buchanan denied that he had made a pledge. The emissaries only redoubled their efforts, urging Buchanan not merely to send Anderson back to Moultrie but to withdraw the federal force from Charleston Harbor altogether. Otherwise they would break off negotiations and bloodshed might follow. Buchanan, petulant, insisted that he must have more time for thought and prayer.
Stanton, encountering Trescott, lashed out at him: “You say the President has pledged himself. I don’t know it, I have not heard his account, but I know you believe it.” In any case, it made no difference now, said Stanton, for South Carolina in breaking her part of the bargain—if there had been a bargain—by taking possession of government property, had freed Buchanan’s hands. “The President’s pledge may be broken or not,” added Stanton; “that now concerns him individually. As to the Government, you have passed by the pledge and assumed in vindication a position of hostility—with that alone I have to deal.”
That night the demands of the commissioners, reduced to writing, were considered in cabinet meeting. Thompson immediately launched into a demand for the evacuation of Sumter. Buchanan, wrapped in an old dressing gown, sat in a corner near the fire. Floyd was lying on a sofa between the windows. “We had high words,” Stanton recalled, “and had almost come to blows.… Thompson was a plausible talker—and as a last resort, having been driven from every other argument, advocated the evacuation of the fort on the plea of generosity. South Carolina, he said, was but a small State with a sparse white population—we were a great and powerful people, and a strong vigorous government. We could afford to say to South Carolina, ‘See, we will withdraw our garrison as an evidence that we mean you no harm.’ ”
Thompson’s argument was well calculated to appeal to Buchanan, who still favored conciliation rather than coercion; but Stanton broke in: “Mr. President, the proposal to be generous implies that the government is strong, and that we, as the public servants, have the confidence of the people. I think that is a mistake. No administration has ever suffered the loss of public confidence and support that this has done. Only the other day it was announced that a million of dollars has been stolen from Mr. Thompson’s department.… Now it is proposed to give up Sumter. All I have to say is, that no administration, much less this one, can afford to lose a million of money and a fort in the same week.”3 Floyd offered no reply.
Next morning, Saturday the twenty-ninth, found the cabinet again in session, but there was one vacant place. Floyd had at last resigned. Cloaking his own incompetence in haughty insolence, he wrote that he could no longer remain associated with an administration that violated solemn pledges and plighted faith.
The demands of the South Carolina commissioners were again the chief subject before the cabinet meeting. Buchanan finally decided to draft a reply himself and read it to the cabinet that evening. Only Toucey was satisfied with it. Thompson and Thomas protested that it was hostile to South Carolina, whereas Black, Holt, and Stanton thought it was too conciliatory.
Black and Stanton became highly excited when Buchanan, displaying the stubborn streak that alternated with his periods of irresolution, seemed determined to transmit the reply to the commissioners as he had written it. “These gentlemen,” Stanton protested, “cl
aim to be ambassadors. It is preposterous! They cannot be ambassadors; they are lawbreakers, traitors. They should be arrested. You cannot negotiate with them; and yet it seems by this paper that you have been led into doing that very thing. With all respects to you, Mr. President, I must say that the Attorney-General, under his oath of office, dares not be cognizant of the pending proceedings. Your reply to these so-called ambassadors must not be transmitted as the reply of the President. It is wholly unlawful and improper; its language is unguarded and to send it as an official document will bring the President to the verge of usurpation.”4 Black spoke equally plainly; but when the meeting broke up, late that night, Buchanan gave no indication that he had changed his mind.
Buchanan’s seeming willingness to give in to the South Carolina commissioners brought Stanton to despair. Unable to sleep, barely taking time for meals, he visited his friend Sickles’s apartment, and in an unquiet mood walked back and forth, saying: “Something must be done.”
He came to a momentous decision: he decided to throw party fealty and cabinet secrecy to the winds and to work behind the President’s back. To be sure, he had alternative courses of action. Stanton could have resigned his office, openly signaling his individual protest against Buchanan’s course, and resigning now would have added to his already large reputation, returned him to a lucrative private practice, and relieved him of all the heavy responsibility involved in the crisis at hand.
But he feared that Buchanan might replace him with someone susceptible to Southern arguments, who might in turn persuade the pliant President to abandon all firmness concerning secession. Unless Stanton’s resignation was accompanied by Black’s and Holt’s, it might be construed as a merely individual difference of policy with Buchanan. And he was egotist enough to feel, with much justice, that his departure from the cabinet would delight Southern extremists and add weight to that segment of Northern opinion which agreed with Buchanan that no way existed to keep the states united.