The two Chroniclers: Lonely is the man who understands.
Lonely is vision that leads a man away
From the pasture-lands,
From the furrows of corn and the brown loads of hay,
To the mountain-side,
To the high places where contemplation brings
All his adventurings
Among the sowers and the tillers in the wide
Valleys to one fused experience,
That shall control
The courses of his soul,
And give his hand
Courage and continence.

The First Chronicler: Shall a man understand,
He shall know bitterness because his kind,
Being perplexed of mind,
Hold issues even that are nothing mated.
And he shall give
Counsel out of his wisdom that none shall hear;
And steadfast in vain persuasion must he live,
And unabated
Shall his temptation be.

Second Chronicler: Coveting the little, the instant gain,
The brief security,
And easy-tongued renown,
Many will mock the vision that his brain
Builds to a far, unmeasured monument,
And many bid his resolutions down
To the wages of content.

First Chronicler: A year goes by.

The two together: Here contemplate
A heart, undaunted to possess
Itself among the glooms of fate,
In vision and in loneliness.

SCENE II.

Ten months later. Seward’s room at Washington. WILLIAM H. SEWARD, Secretary of State, is seated at his table with JOHNSON WHITE and CALEB JENNINGS, representing the Commissioners of the Confederate States.

White: It’s the common feeling in the South, Mr. Seward, that you’re the one man at Washington to see this thing with large imagination. I say this with no disrespect to the President.

Seward: I appreciate your kindness, Mr. White. But the Union is the Union you can’t get over that. We are faced with a plain fact. Seven of the Southern States have already declared for secession. The President feels and I may say that I and my colleagues are with him that to break up the country like that means the decline of America.

Jennings: But everything might be done by compromise, Mr. Seward. Withdraw your garrison from Fort Sumter, Beauregard will be instructed to take no further action, South Carolina will be satisfied with the recognition of her authority, and, as likely as not, be willing to give the lead to the other states in reconsidering secession.

Seward: It is certainly a very attractive and, I conceive, a humane proposal.

White: By furthering it you might be the saviour of the country from civil war, Mr. Seward.

Seward: The President dwelt on his resolution to hold Fort Sumter in his inaugural address. It will be difficult to persuade him to go back on that. He’s firm in his decisions.

White: There are people who would call him stubborn. Surely if it were put to him tactfully that so simple a course might avert incalculable disaster, no man would nurse his dignity to the point of not yielding. I speak plainly, but it’s a time for plain speaking. Mr. Lincoln is doubtless a man of remarkable qualities: on the two occasions when I have spoken to him I have not been unimpressed. That is so, Mr. Jennings?

Jennings: Certainly.

White: But what does his experience of great affairs of state amount to beside yours, Mr. Seward? He must know how much he depends on certain members of his Cabinet, I might say upon a certain member, for advice.

Seward: We have to move warily.

Jennings: Naturally. A man is sensitive, doubtless, in his first taste of office.

Seward: My support of the President is, of course, unquestionable.

White: Oh, entirely. But how can your support be more valuable than in lending him your unequalled understanding?

Seward: The whole thing is coloured in his mind by the question of slavery.

Jennings: Disabuse his mind. Slavery is nothing. Persuade him to withdraw from Fort Sumter, and slavery can be settled round a table. You know there’s a considerable support even for abolition in the South itself. If the trade has to be allowed in some districts, what is that compared to the disaster of civil war?

White: We do not believe that the Southern States wish with any enthusiasm to secede. They merely wish to establish their right to do so. Acknowledge that by evacuating Fort Sumter, and nothing will come of it but a perfectly proper concession to an independence of spirit that is not disloyal to the Union at heart.

Seward: You understand, of course, that I can say nothing officially.

Jennings: These are nothing but informal suggestions.

Seward: But I may tell you that I am not unsympathetic.

White: We were sure that that would be so.

Seward: And my word is not without influence.

Jennings: It can be used to bring you very great credit, Mr. Seward.

Seward: In the mean time, you will say nothing of this interview, beyond making your reports, which should be confidential.

White: You may rely upon us.

Seward (rising with the others): Then I will bid you good-morning.

White: We are profoundly sensible of the magnanimous temper in which we are convinced you will conduct this grave business. Good-morning, Mr. Seward.

Jennings: And I

There is a knock at the door.

Seward: Yes come in.

A CLERK comes in.

Clerk: The President is coming up the stairs, sir.

Seward: Thank you.

THE CLERK goes. This is unfortunate. Say nothing, and go at once.

LINCOLN comes in, now whiskered and bearded.

Lincoln: Good-morning, Mr. Seward. Good-morning, gentlemen.

Seward: Good-morning, Mr. President. And I am obliged to you for calling, gentlemen. Good-morning.

He moves towards the door.

Lincoln: Perhaps these gentlemen could spare me ten minutes.

White: It might not

Lincoln: Say five minutes.

Jennings: Perhaps you would

Lincoln: I am anxious always for any opportunity to exchange views with our friends of the South. Much enlightenment may be gained in five minutes. Be seated, I beg you if Mr. Seward will allow us.

Seward: By all means. Shall I leave you?

Lincoln: Leave us but why? I may want your support, Mr. Secretary, if we should not wholly agree. Be seated, gentlemen.

SEWARD places a chair for LINCOLN, and they sit at the table.

You have messages for us?

White: Well, no, we can’t say that.

Lincoln: No messages? Perhaps I am inquisitive?

Seward: These gentlemen are anxious to sound any moderating influences.

Lincoln: I trust they bring moderating influences with them. You will find me a ready listener, gentlemen.

Jennings: It’s a delicate matter, Mr. Lincoln. Ours is just an informal visit.

Lincoln: Quite, quite. But we shall lose nothing by knowing each other’s minds.

White: Shall we tell the President what we came to say, Mr. Seward?

Lincoln: I shall be grateful. If I should fail to understand, Mr. Seward, no doubt, will enlighten me.

Jennings: We thought it hardly worth while to trouble you at so early a stage.

Lincoln: So early a stage of what?

Jennings: I mean

Seward: These gentlemen, in a common anxiety for peace, were merely seeking the best channel through which suggestions could be made.

Lincoln: To whom?

Seward: To the government.

Lincoln: The head of the government is here.

White: But

Lincoln: Come, gentlemen. What is it?

Jennings: It’s this matter of Fort Sumter, Mr. President. If you withdraw your garrison from Fort Sumter it won’t be looked upon as weakness in you. It will merely be looked upon as a concession to a natural privilege. We believe that the South at heart does not want secession. It wants to establish the right to decide for itself.

Lincoln: The South wants the stamp of national approval upon slavery. It can’t have it.

White: Surely that’s not the point. There’s no law in the South against slavery.

Lincoln: Laws come from opinion, Mr. White. The South knows it.

Jennings: Mr. President, if I may say so, you don’t quite understand.

Lincoln: Does Mr. Seward understand?

White: We believe so.

Lincoln: You are wrong. He doesn’t understand, because you didn’t mean him to. I don’t blame you. You think you are acting for the best. You think you’ve got an honest case. But I’ll put your case for you, and I’ll put it naked. Many people in this country want abolition; many don’t. I’ll say nothing for the moment as to the rights and wrongs of it. But every man, whether he wants it or not, knows it may come. Why does the South propose secession? Because it knows abolition may come, and it wants to avoid it. It wants more: it wants the right to extend the slave foundation. We’ve all been to blame for slavery, but we in the North have been willing to mend our ways. You have not. So you’ll secede, and make your own laws. But you weren’t prepared for resistance; you don’t want resistance. And you hope that if you can tide over the first crisis and make us give way, opinion will prevent us from opposing you with force again, and you’ll be able to get your own way about the slave business by threats. That’s your case. You didn’t say so to Mr. Seward, but it is. Now, I’ll give you my answer. Gentlemen, it’s no good hiding this thing in a corner. It’s got to be settled. I said the other day that Fort Sumter would be held as long as we could hold it. I said it because I know exactly what it means. Why are you investing it? Say, if you like, it’s to establish your right of secession with no purpose of exercising it. Why do you want to establish that right? Because now we will allow no extension of slavery, and because some day we may abolish it. You can’t deny it; there’s no other answer.

Jennings: I see how it is. You may force freedom as much as you like, but we are to beware how we force slavery.

Lincoln: It couldn’t be put better, Mr. Jennings. That’s what the Union means. It is a Union that stands for common right. That is its foundation that is why it is for every honest man to preserve it. Be clear about this issue. If there is war, it will not be on the slave question. If the South is loyal to the Union, it can fight slave legislation by constitutional means, and win its way if it can. If it claims the right to secede, then to preserve this country from disruption, to maintain that right to which every state pledged itself when the Union was won for us by our fathers, war may be the only way. We won’t break up the Union, and you shan’t. In your hands, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. You can have no conflict without yourselves being the aggressors. I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, do not allow it to break our bonds of affection. That is our answer. Tell them that. Will you tell them that?

White: You are determined?

Lincoln: I beg you to tell them.

Jennings: It shall be as you wish.

Lincoln: Implore them to order Beauregard’s return. You can telegraph it now, from here. Will you do that?

White: If you wish it.

Lincoln: Earnestly. Mr. Seward, will you please place a clerk at their service. Ask for an answer.

SEWARD rings a bell. A CLERK comes in.

Seward: Give these gentlemen a private wire. Place yourself at their disposal.

Clerk: Yes, sir.

WHITE and JENNINGS go out with the CLERK. For a moment LINCOLN and SEWARD are silent, LINCOLN pacing the room, SEWARD standing at the table.

Lincoln: Seward, this won’t do.

Seward: You don’t suspect

Lincoln: I do not. But let us be plain. No man can say how wisely, but Providence has brought me to the leadership of this country, with a task before me greater than that which rested on Washington himself. When I made my Cabinet, you were the first man I chose. I do not regret it. I think I never shall. But remember, faith earns faith. What is it? Why didn’t those men come to see me?

Seward: They thought my word might bear more weight with you than theirs.

Lincoln: Your word for what?

Seward: Discretion about Fort Sumter.

Lincoln: Discretion?

Seward: It’s devastating, this thought of war.

Lincoln: It is. Do you think I’m less sensible of that than you? War should be impossible. But you can only make it impossible by destroying its causes. Don’t you see that to withdraw from Fort Sumter is to do nothing of the kind? If one half of this country claims the right to disown the Union, the claim in the eyes of every true guardian among us must be a cause for war, unless we hold the Union to be a false thing instead of the public consent to decent principles of life that it is. If we withdraw from Fort Sumter, we do nothing to destroy that cause. We can only destroy it by convincing them that secession is a betrayal of their trust. Please God we may do so.

Seward: Has there, perhaps, been some timidity in making all this clear to the country?

Lincoln: Timidity? And you were talking of discretion.

Seward: I mean that perhaps our policy has not been sufficiently defined.

Lincoln: And have you not concurred in all our decisions? Do not deceive yourself. You urge me to discretion in one breath and tax me with timidity in the next. While there was hope that they might call Beauregard back out of their own good sense, I was determined to say nothing to inflame them. Do you call that timidity? Now their intention is clear, and you’ve heard me speak this morning clearly also. And now you talk about discretion you, who call what was discretion at the right time, timidity, now counsel timidity at the wrong time, and call it discretion. Seward, you may think I’m simple, but I can see your mind working as plainly as you might see the innards of a clock. You can bring great gifts to this government, with your zeal, and your administrative experience, and your love of men. Don’t spoil it by thinking I’ve got a dull brain.

Seward (slowly): Yes, I see. I’ve not been thinking quite clearly about it all.

Lincoln (taking a paper from his pocket): Here’s the paper you sent me. “Some Thoughts for the President’s Consideration. Great Britain ... Russia ... Mexico ... policy. Either the President must control this himself, or devolve it on some member of his Cabinet. It is not in my especial province, but I neither seek to evade nor assume responsibility.”

There is a pause, the two men looking at each, other without speaking. LINCOLN hands the paper to SEWARD, who holds it for a moment, tears it up and throws it into his basket.

Seward: I beg your pardon.

Lincoln (taking his hand): That’s brave of you.

JOHN HAY, a Secretary, comes in.

Hay: There’s a messenger from Major Anderson, sir. He’s ridden straight from Fort Sumter.

Lincoln: Take him to my room. No, bring him here.

HAY goes.

Seward: What does it mean?

Lincoln: I don’t like the sound of it.

He rings a bell. A CLERK comes in.

Are there any gentlemen of the Cabinet in the house?

Clerk: Mr. Chase and Mr. Blair, I believe, sir.

Lincoln: My compliments to them, and will they be prepared to see me here at once if necessary. Send the same message to any other ministers you can find.

Clerk: Yes, sir.

He goes.

Lincoln: We may have to decide now now.

HAY shows in a perspiring and dust-covered

MESSENGER, and retires. From Major Anderson?

The Messenger: Yes, sir. Word of mouth, sir.

Lincoln: Your credentials?

The Messenger (giving LINCOLN a paper): Here, sir.

Lincoln (glancing at it): Well?

The Messenger: Major Anderson presents his duty to the government. He can hold the Fort three days more without provisions and reinforcements.

LINCOLN rings the bell, and waits until a third CLERK comes in.

Lincoln: See if Mr. White and Mr. Jennings have had any answer yet. Mr. what’s his name?

Seward: Hawkins.

Lincoln: Mr. Hawkins is attending to them. And ask Mr. Hay to come here.

Clerk: Yes, sir.

He goes. LINCOLN sits at the table and writes. HAY comes in.

Lincoln (writing): Mr. Hay, do you know where General Scott is?

Hay: At headquarters, I think, sir.

Lincoln: Take this to him yourself and bring an answer back.

Hay: Yes, sir.

He takes the note, and goes.

Lincoln: Are things very bad at the Fort?

The Messenger: The major says three days, sir. Most of us would have said twenty-four hours.

A knock at the door.

Seward: Yes.

HAWKINS comes in.

Hawkins: Mr. White is just receiving a message across the wire, sir.

Lincoln: Ask him to come here directly he’s finished.

Hawkins: Yes, sir.

He goes. LINCOLN goes to a far door and opens it. He speaks to the MESSENGER.

Lincoln: Will you wait in here?

The MESSENGER goes through.

Seward: Do you mind if I smoke?

Lincoln: Not at all, not at all.

SEWARD lights a cigar.

Three days. If White’s message doesn’t help us three days.

Seward: But surely we must withdraw as a matter of military necessity now.

Lincoln: Why doesn’t White come?

SEWARD goes to the window and throws it up. He stands looking down into the street. LINCOLN stands at the table looking fixedly at the door. After a moment or two there is a knock.

Come in.

HAWKINS shows in WHITE and JENNINGS, and goes out. SEWARD closes the window.

Well?

White: I’m sorry. They won’t give way.

Lincoln: You told them all I said?

Jennings: Everything.

Lincoln: It’s critical.

White: They are definite.

LINCOLN paces once or twice up and down the room, standing again at his place at the table.

Lincoln: They leave no opening?

White: I regret to say, none.

Lincoln: It’s a grave decision. Terribly grave. Thank you, gentlemen. Good-morning.

White and Jennings: Good-morning, gentlemen.

They go out.

Lincoln: My God! Seward, we need great courage, great faith.

He rings the bell. The SECOND CLERK comes in.

Did you take my messages?

The Clerk: Yes, sir. Mr. Chase and Mr. Blair are here. The other ministers are coming immediately.

Lincoln: Ask them to come here at once. And send Mr. Hay in directly he returns.

The Clerk: Yes, sir.

He goes.

Lincoln (after a pause): “There is a tide in the affairs of men ...” Do you read Shakespeare, Seward?

Seward: Shakespeare? No.

Lincoln: Ah!

SALMON P. CHASE, Secretary of the Treasury, and MONTGOMERY BLAIR, Postmaster-General, come in.

Good-morning, Mr. Chase, Mr. Blair.

Seward: Good-morning, gentlemen.

Blair: Good-morning, Mr. President. How d’ye do, Mr. Seward.

Chase: Good-morning, Mr. President. Something urgent?

Lincoln: Let us be seated.

As they draw chairs up to the table, the other members of the Cabinet, SIMON CAMERON, CALEB SMITH, BURNET HOOK, and GIDEON WELLES, come in. There is an exchange of greetings, while they arrange themselves round the table.

Gentlemen, we meet in a crisis, the most fateful, perhaps, that has ever faced any government in this country. It can be stated briefly. A message has just come from Anderson. He can hold Fort Sumter three days at most unless we send men and provisions.

Cameron: How many men?

Lincoln: I shall know from Scott in a few minutes how many are necessary.

Welles: Suppose we haven’t as many.

Lincoln: Then it’s a question of provisioning. We may not be able to do enough to be effective. The question is whether we shall do as much as we can.

Hook: If we withdrew altogether, wouldn’t it give the South a lead towards compromise, as being an acknowledgment of their authority, while leaving us free to plead military necessity if we found public opinion dangerous?

Lincoln: My mind is clear. To do less than we can do, whatever that may be, will be fundamentally to allow the South’s claim to right of secession. That is my opinion. If you evade the question now, you will have to answer it to-morrow.

Blair: I agree with the President.

Hook: We ought to defer action as long as possible. I consider that we should withdraw.

Lincoln: Don’t you see that to withdraw may postpone war, but that it will make it inevitable in the end?

Smith: It is inevitable if we resist.

Lincoln: I fear it will be so. But in that case we shall enter it with uncompromised principles. Mr. Chase?

Chase: It is difficult. But, on the whole, my opinion is with yours, Mr. President.

Lincoln: And you, Seward?

Seward: I respect your opinion, but I must differ.

A knock at the door.

Lincoln: Come in.

HAY comes in. He gives a letter to LINCOLN and goes.

(Reading): Scott says twenty thousand men.

Seward: We haven’t ten thousand ready.

Lincoln: It remains a question of sending provisions. I charge you, all of you, to weigh this thing with all your understanding. To temporise now, cannot, in my opinion, avert war. To speak plainly to the world in standing by our resolution to hold Fort Sumter with all our means, and in a plain declaration that the Union must be preserved, will leave us with a clean cause, simply and loyally supported. I tremble at the thought of war. But we have in our hands a sacred trust. It is threatened. We have had no thought of aggression. We have been the aggressed. Persuasion has failed, and I conceive it to be our duty to resist. To withhold supplies from Anderson would be to deny that duty. Gentlemen, the matter is before you.

A pause.

For provisioning the fort?

LINCOLN, CHASE, and BLAIR hold up their hands.

For immediate withdrawal?

SEWARD, CAMERON, SMITH, HOOK, and WELLES hold up their hands. There is a pause of some moments.

Gentlemen, I may have to take upon myself the responsibility of over-riding your vote. It will be for me to satisfy Congress and public opinion. Should I receive any resignations?

There is silence.

I thank you for your consideration, gentlemen. That is all.

They rise, and the Ministers, with the exception of SEWARD, go out, talking as they pass beyond the door.

You are wrong, Seward, wrong.

Seward: I believe you. I respect your judgment even as far as that. But I must speak as I feel.

Lincoln: May I speak to this man alone?

Seward: Certainly. He goes out. LINCOLN stands motionless for a moment. Then he moves to a map of the United States, much larger than the one in his Illinois home, and looks at it as he did there. He goes to the far door and opens it.

Lincoln: Will you come in?

The MESSENGER comes.

Can you ride back to Major Anderson at once?

The Messenger: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: Tell him that we cannot reinforce him immediately. We haven’t the men.

The Messenger: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: And say that the first convoy of supplies will leave Washington this evening.

The Messenger: Yes, sir.

Lincoln: Thank you.

The MESSENGER goes. LINCOLN stands at the table for a moment; he rings the bell. HAWKINS comes in.

Mr. Hay, please.

Hawkins: Yes, sir.

He goes, and a moment later HAY comes in.

Lincoln: Go to General Scott. Ask him to come to me at once.

Hay: Yes, sir.

He goes.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.