Voices from the Past Part 146

January 4th, 1864

T

oday I visited the stables and talked to Old Abe. As usual, he was pleased to see me. I offered him a handful of oats, and he bobbed his head. The sun was warm in the stall. I stood by, as Abe munched. I could believe that he knew I was thanking him for my escape yesterday.

My hat is lying on my bed-a bullet hole right through the crown. A good hat. If Abe hadn't bolted someone might have shot again. We were lucky it was growing dark, Abe and I.

I offered him more oats.

Stablemen were arriving. Bill Slade appeared.

"Good mawnin', Mistah President. How is you this mawnin'?"

A fine person, Bill Slade-from Kentucky.

I must give away that telltale hat. It cost me eight dollars. Certainly, Mary must never find it; that would mean severe hysteria.

I have been considering the purchase of a taller horse.

No, Old Abe will serve me. I must shorten the stirrups. I appreciate his easy gaits. Gentleness-something hard to come by these days.

Desk

William Seward-I wanted to call him Will, wanted to bridge the gap that exists between us, a gap some three years wide. As my Secretary of State he has a.s.sisted the government through his foreign diplomacy; as an ardent anti-slave man he has successfully blocked the Confederacy through foreign influence. As governor of New York he left an enviable record; as senator he is above reproach. With his friendly Irish spirit, he has favored Irish immigration. With his eye on the presidency he has not spared me.

As friend of Jefferson Davis and his wife, I have had to work to allay suspicions, suspicions that have proved ungrounded. Seward's eye on the presidency will continue beyond my stay in the White House. He has an intense desire to improve our nation, to push on; I admire his faith in tomorrow. Unfortunately, he has not always manifested political balance. When he suggested an all- out war with Europe, to force an amalgamation of North and South, I was utterly nonplussed.

Trainer of Arabian horses, owner of Arabian horses, breeder of Arabians, Seward is many things. He is sixty, has white hair, slouches, swears, smokes cigars. When asked by an hysterical officer, when Was.h.i.+ngton was threatened with invasion at the time I took office, "What shall I fire at?," Seward responded coolly: "Fire at the crisis!"

One winter's afternoon, Louis Aga.s.siz drove up to the White House, with his brilliant wife, Elizabeth. A Swiss- American, he speaks English with a marked but dis- tinguished accent. We three had a long walk through the December garden and our conservatory, and he emphasized the value of studying from nature. Bustling to his carriage, parked on the driveway, he returned with his four-volume study, Natural History of the United States.

He was pleased to present it to me-and inscribed the first volume. Elizabeth did her best to enlighten me on scientific points since I have never studied the sciences, a brief elementary course, I might call it. I found the two remarkable. When I can, I dip into his History.

Later, he sent his Recherches sur les poissons fossiles, this study in French. I have bequeathed it to the Library.

The visit of this pair has shown me depths that lie in Europe-depths I must explore.

Executive Mansion

1/14/64

I reviewed my Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation to the best of my ability. Lights were on, the house quiet. Rain streaked the windows. I wanted to re-test each word, wholly for myself. In these troubled times I must rescue something for myself.

Thus:

...I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, order and declare that all persons held as slaves are forever free. The Executive Government, including the military and naval authority, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons...

I enjoin all people to abstain from violence. I evoke the considerate judgment of mankind...

Forever free.

Those words still ring in my mind.

As I signed, I remembered slaves, slaves in a slave depot, slaves on a barge, slaves on a Kentucky plantation; I remembered the dead and the dying, brother against brother; I thought about pillaged homes, families in rags. I saw. I stared at the Proclamation and saw.

Now, as I sit at my desk, it seems to me that I have been guided by experience. My presidency has been justified. It seems to me, in all calmness, in objec- tivity, I have placed a permanent seal on the ages.