Turning to more realistic questions, Lincoln said the Confederate states could resume their place in the Union once they had laid down their arms and allowed the federal government to resume its traditional functions. Seward reminded the commissioners that the president in his annual message had announced, “In stating a single condition of peace, I mean simply to say that the war will cease on the part of the Government whenever it shall have ceased on the part of those who began it.” Congress would determine who was legitimately elected to serve in it, Lincoln pointed out, but he believed “that when the resistance ceased and the National Authority was recognized, the States would be immediately restored to their practical relations to the Union.”144 He added that “individuals subject to pains and penalties under the laws of the United States might rely upon a very liberal use of the powers confided to him to remit those pains and penalties if peace be restored.” Of course he could not infringe on the powers of Congress or repeal its laws or undo the findings of courts; but “he did offer all the power of mercy and pardon and influence, both as the Chief Magistrate, and as a popular party leader.” When Hunter remarked that he had no fear of harsh treatment, “Lincoln retorted, that he, also, had felt easy as to the rebels, but not always so easy about the lamp posts around Washington city—a hint that he had already done more favors for the rebels, than was exactly popular with the radical men of his own party.” (This was clearly an allusion to the fear he had expressed earlier to Congressman William D. Kelley that he might be hanged by disaffected Republicans.)
As for emancipation, Lincoln said that he “never would change or modify the terms of the proclamation in the slightest particular.” But that document had freed only about 200,000 slaves thus far; the status of the remaining 3 million-plus would be settled by the courts. (Lincoln underestimated the number of slaves already liberated.) Seward interjected that if the Thirteenth Amendment, whose recent passage by Congress was unknown to the Confederates, were ratified by three-quarters of the states, all slaves throughout the country would be free.
Apropos of the Thirteenth Amendment, Lincoln “suggested that there was a question as to the right of the insurgent States to return at once, and claim a right to vote upon the amendment.” Seward hinted that if the Confederates surrendered and quickly regained admission to the Union, they might defeat the amendment. Taking a different tack, Lincoln “intimated that the States [in rebellion] might do much better to return to the Union at once, than to stand the chances of continued war, and the increasing bitterness of feeling in Congress. And that the time might come” when Confederates “would cease to be [regarded as] an erring people, invited back to the Union as citizens.”145
If slavery were abolished, Stephens asked: “what are we to do? I know that negroes will not work, unless forced to it, and I tell you that we shall all starve together.” The question reminded Lincoln of an Illinois farmer who told his neighbor about an easy way to feed hogs: “plant plenty of potatoes, and when they are mature, without either digging or housing them, turn the hogs in the field and let them get their own food as they want it.” When the neighbor asked, “how will they do when the winter comes and the ground is hard frozen?” the farmer replied, “let’ em root.” Southern whites, Lincoln said, “can go to work like honest people or starve.”146
Lincoln renewed his proposal to compensate slaveholders, stating “that he would be willing to be taxed to remunerate the Southern people for their slaves. He believed the people of the North were as responsible for slavery as the people of the South, and if the war should then cease, with the voluntary abolition of slavery by the States, he should be in favor, individually, of the Government paying a fair indemnity for the loss to their owners. He said he believed this feeling had an extensive existence at the North. He knew some who were in favor of an appropriation as high as Four Hundred Millions of Dollars for this purpose. I could mention persons, said he, whose names would astonish you, who are willing to do this, if the war shall now cease without further expense, and with the abolition of slavery as stated. But on this subject he said he could give no assurance—enter into no stipulation.” When Seward objected to compensating slaveholders, Lincoln replied: “if it was wrong in the South to hold slaves, it was wrong in the North to carry on the slave trade and sell them to the South.”
In frustration, Hunter protested that the Confederacy was being asked to surrender unconditionally. Denying that assertion, Seward said he did not “think that in yielding to the execution of the laws under the Constitution of the United States, with all its guarantees and securities for personal and political rights, as they might be declared to be by the court, could be properly considered as unconditional submission to conquerors, or as having anything humiliating about it.”147 Seward was right. The terms offered the South by Lincoln—reunion and emancipation—were far more limited and generous than the demands that the United States would in 1945 impose on Germany and Japan, who surrendered unconditionally.
As the meeting closed, Hunter asked about the U.S. Capitol expansion. Seward described how the dome had been completed and was now crowned by a large statue of Armed Liberty. (A few months earlier Lincoln had said “that there were some people who thought the work on the Capitol ought to stop on account of the war, people who begrudged the expenditure, and the detention of the workmen from the army.” But Lincoln believed that the completion of the Capitol would symbolize the preservation of the Union: “If people see the Capitol going on, it is a sign we intend the Union shall go on.”)148
The only agreement to emerge from the conference dealt with prisoner exchanges. At Stephens’s suggestion, Lincoln said he would recommend to Grant that a cartel for such exchanges be negotiated with the Confederates. The president also agreed to have Stephens’s nephew released from a Northern prison camp in return for a Union soldier.
The disappointed Rebel commissioners relayed Lincoln’s terms to Jefferson Davis and said that “the conference was but a confirmation of the desire for peace upon the part of the United States.” The Confederate chief regarded the proposition as an insult and wanted to issue an announcement to that effect, but the commissioners refused. So a bland statement was released instead. In public speeches, the Confederate president breathed defiance. He would “teach the insolent enemy who has treated our proposition with contumely in that conference in which he had so plumed himself with arrogance, he was, indeed, talking to his masters.” With a sneer he referred to Lincoln as “His Majesty Abraham the First,”149 and declared that rather than rejoin the Union, “he would be willing to yield up everything he had on earth, and if it were possible would sacrifice a thousand lives before he would succumb.”150 As it turned out, far more than a thousand lives were sacrificed because of Davis’s stubborn unwillingness to accept the reality of defeat. As the disappointed John A. Campbell put it a few months later, Davis “became in the closing part of the war an incubus and a mischief” because he was “[s]low, procrastinating, obstructive, filled with petty scruples and doubts,” lacking “a clear, strong, intrepid judgment, a vigorous resolution, and a generous and self-sacrificing nature.”151
Lincoln returned to Washington optimistic that the conference at Hampton Roads might lead to peace. He told James W. Singleton, “I have not brought back peace in a lump from the conference, but I am glad I went down, and hope for good results.”152 Radicals disparaged Lincoln’s trip. “The peace fizzle has ended as I supposed it would in national disgrace,” remarked Zachariah Chandler. He thought it was bad enough for Seward and Blair to undertake such a fool’s errand, but it was “not only disgracefull but ridiculous” for “the President to go 200 miles to meet the representatives of these accursed Rebels and then to come back with a flea in his ear.”153
On February 6, Lincoln introduced to the cabinet a resolution embodying the proposal he made at the conference—to offer $400 million as compensation to slaveholders if the Confederacy would surrender by April 1. Half would be paid upon that surrender an
d the other half if the Thirteenth Amendment were ratified by July 1. Should Congress pass this resolution, Lincoln pledged that he would fully exercise the power granted him and that the “war will cease, and armies be reduced to a basis of peace; that all political offences will be pardoned; that all property, except slaves, liable to confiscation or forfeiture, will be released therefrom, except in cases of intervening interests of third parties; and that liberality will be recommended to congress upon all points not lying within executive control.”154
In justifying his proposal, Lincoln asked the cabinet, “how long has this war lasted, and how long do you suppose it will still last? We cannot hope that it will end in less than a hundred days. We are now spending three millions a day, and that will equal the full amount I propose to pay, to saying nothing of the lives lost and property destroyed. I look upon it as a measure of strict and simple economy.” The cabinet unanimously rejected this pragmatic argument, which Lincoln had used to justify compensated emancipation back in 1862. Secretary of the Interior John P. Usher speculated that Lincoln’s “heart was so fully enlisted in behalf of such a plan that he would have followed it if only a single member of his Cabinet had supported him in the project.” Sadly, Lincoln commented, “You are all against me” and dropped the matter.155
Welles recorded in his diary that Lincoln’s “earnest desire” to “conciliate and effect peace was manifest, but there may be such a thing as so overdoing as to cause a distrust or adverse feeling. In the present temper of Congress the proposed measure, if a wise one, could not be carried through successfully.” Welles feared that the Confederates would misunderstand it, and that if it were openly submitted and rejected, it would be harmful.156 Secretary Usher was equally anxious, believing that if Lincoln submitted the resolution to Congress, Radicals like Ohioan Robert C. Schenck “would make it the occasion of a violent assault on the President and perhaps thus weaken his influence to procure men and money to prosecute the war.”157 According to the man who was to procure the money, Treasury Secretary Fessenden, the cabinet thought that since the president’s proposal could not be acted on by Congress before its adjournment on March 4, it should not be submitted to that body. In addition, “it was evidently the unanimous opinion of the cabinet that the only way effectively to end the war was by force of arms—and that until the war was thus ended no proposition to pay money should come from us.”158 Lincoln evidently intended the $400 million to help revive the blighted economy of the South. It was an enlightened proposal designed to help restore sectional harmony.
When the House asked Lincoln for a report on the Hampton Roads conference, he promptly submitted a document including most of the relevant correspondence. (He omitted the dispatch from Thomas T. Eckert indicating that the commissioners might drop their unconditional demand for independence.) It tersely concluded that on the part of Seward and himself, “the whole substance of the instructions to the Secretary of State … was stated and insisted upon, and nothing was said inconsistently therewith; while, by the other party it was not said that, in any event, or on any condition, they ever would consent to re-union, and yet they equally omitted to declare that they never would so consent. They seemed to desire a postponement of that question, and the adoption of some other course first, which, as some of them seemed to argue, might, or might not, lead to re-union, but which course, we thought, would amount to an indefinite postponement. The conference ended without result.”159
As Lincoln’s report was read to the House, members listened breathlessly. When they heard the reference in the president’s letter to Blair about “one common country,” they audibly expressed satisfaction. The three conditions for peace in Seward’s instructions triggered spontaneous applause, and mirthful laughter greeted the injunction to the secretary of state not to “definitely consummate anything.” A reporter present guessed “that some men were ashamed of themselves when they remembered that they had said that Lincoln had gone to Fortress Monroe for fear that Seward would not make his terms liberal enough.”160 At the close of the reading, both the floor and galleries erupted in applause.
Originally skeptical about Lincoln’s decision to meet with Confederate emissaries, Radicals felt relief at the outcome. Thaddeus Stevens acknowledged that he and his allies had underestimated the president. The Pennsylvania congressman maintained that no Republicans “desired to sue for peace” with the Confederacy so near collapse. “But the President thought it was best to make the effort, and he has done it in such a masterly style, upon such a firm basis and principle, that I believe [all] who thought his mission there was unwise will accord to him sagacity and patriotism, and applaud his action.”161 Franklin B. Sanborn chided the bitter Radical, Moncure D. Conway, who had just published an especially vitriolic attack on the president. “It is not true that Mr Lincoln was detested by the men who elected him,” Sanborn wrote in late February. Rather, the president “was distrusted and still is,—witness the alarm which attended his late visit to Fortress Monroe. But even in that affair he seems to have been true to the policy which he has announced, and he is heartily bent on the destruction of slavery. Of this there is now no reason to doubt.”162 George Luther Stearns also chastised Conway for his criticism of Lincoln. Like Sanborn, Stearns spoke with Wendell Phillips, and they decided that it was time to stop agitating about emancipation and instead to focus on advocating black suffrage “with as much zeal and confidence too that we shall obtain it as we did emancipation last year. These questions are carried forward by their own gravity[.] Mr Lincoln Mr Seward, Mr Garrison or Mr Phillips are only straws on the current which shows the set in their particular locality. We do not care therefore to hold up Mr Lincoln’s deficiencies to the public gaze but rather by enlightening the people prepare the way for that perfect day of freedom for all, which we believe is the destiny of our country.”163 Such criticism of Conway, in the view of Samuel J. May, Jr., was too gentle. “His preposterous folly and self-conceit deserved a much more stinging rebuke than it ever got,” May confided to a friend.164
The Washington Chronicle accurately predicted that the Hampton Roads conference would unify the North, which was made more aware than ever that the war persisted only because of Jefferson Davis’s obstinacy. Flagging Confederate patriotism also received a boost, for many in the South regarded Lincoln’s terms as unacceptable. “There are no peace men among us now!” exclaimed the Richmond Sentinel.165
Lincoln was willing to meet Confederate commissioners and offer generous peace terms because he wanted to end the war swiftly, restore goodwill between the sections, reduce the chances of guerrilla warfare breaking out after the war’s end, and stave off impending anarchy and poverty in the South. Gideon Welles recalled that in early 1865, Lincoln “frequently expressed his opinion that the condition of affairs in the rebel States was deplorable, and did not conceal his apprehension that, unless immediately attended to, they would, in consequence of their disturbed civil, social, and industrial relations, be worse after the rebellion was suppressed.”166
In late February, Lincoln met with Roger A. Pryor of Virginia, who appealed in vain on behalf of convicted saboteur John Y. Beall. After explaining that he could not pardon Beall, the president spoke of the Hampton Roads conference. According to Pryor’s wife, Lincoln stated that Jefferson Davis, having turned down the generous peace terms offered, would “be responsible for every drop of blood that should be shed in the further prosecution of the war, a futile and wicked effusion of blood, since it was then obvious to every sane man that the Southern armies must be speedily crushed.” He spoke so warmly and at such great length that Pryor “inferred that he still hoped the people of the South would reverse Mr. Davis’s action, and would renew the negotiations for peace.” He hinted that he wanted Pryor to feel out Southern leaders on the matter. Pryor did so but was informed that Davis was inflexible.167
Misguided Cotton-Trading Policies
James W. Singleton’s mission to Canada involved more than peacemaking; he was a b
usinessman eager to purchase cotton, tobacco, and other Southern products. Nathaniel Beverly Tucker, with whom he met in late 1864, hoped to obtain meat for the Confederate army by selling cotton to the North. At that time, Lincoln was hoping to shorten the war by encouraging cotton trading (but not in exchange for meat and other commodities that might help the Confederate military). Acting on authority granted by Congress, the president early in the war had forbidden commercial intercourse with the enemy but did allow the Treasury Department to issue cotton-trading permits to Southern merchants who took a loyalty oath. Those merchants could sell cotton to treasury agents, then buy goods for resale in areas under Union control. Such commerce was designed to encourage Southern Unionists, supply Northern textile manufacturers with much-needed fiber, allow some cotton to reach Europe, thereby reducing the chance of British or French intervention, and fill the government’s coffers.
In practice, the system worked poorly. Soldiers and treasury officials accepted bribes to allow war material through Union lines; merchants who took the oath with mental reservations provided war material to the Confederates; and some Northerners paid for cotton with gold, which Rebels used to buy weaponry in the Bahamas. Military commanders, including Grant and Sherman, tried to staunch the flow of illegal cotton, but were only moderately successful. During the war, approximately 600,000 bales of Southern cotton made their way overland into the North illicitly, twice the amount that was lawfully traded. (Only 500,000 bales were shipped to Europe.) The proceeds helped keep the Confederacy relatively well supplied, despite the ever-tightening blockade and the fall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson.
Over the objections of Welles and Stanton, who echoed the views of army and navy commanders, Lincoln moved to liberalize trade with the enemy. Earlier, he had generally sided with the military in disputes about such commerce. When attorney Lawrence Weldon asked him one day about a struggle between the army and the treasury over cotton trading, Lincoln replied with a story about a mutual friend of theirs back in Illinois, one Robert Lewis, clerk of the De Witt county court. Lewis had inherited some property in a remote part of Missouri and went out to inspect it, taking along warrants and patents establishing his title. Arriving at his destination, Lewis discovered a lanky, leathery frontiersman in a cabin where a rifle hung above the fireplace. He showed the documents to the gentleman and asked what he might have to prove that the land was his. Pointing to the rifle, Lewis’s host said: “Well, that is my title, and if you don’t get out of here pretty damned quick you will feel the force of it.” Lewis promptly galloped off. “Now,” said Lincoln, “the military authorities have the same title against the civil authorities that closed out Bob’s … title in Missouri.”168
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