James Harlan of Iowa was Secretary of the Interior. Caleb B. Smith, who was a member of Mr. Lincoln's original Cabinet, had resigned in order to accept a Federal judgeship in Indiana, and his able assistant-secretary, John P. Usher, had been promoted to the head of the department, fulfilling his trust to Mr. Lincoln's satisfaction. He in turn resigned, and was succeeded by Mr. Harlan who was nominated by Mr. Lincoln, and unanimously confirmed by the Senate on the 9th of March—the confirmation to take effect on the 15th of May. It was an exceptional form of appointment; but when the date was reached, President Johnson insisted that the new Secretary should assume the duties of the office. Mr. Harlan was a well-educated man with strong natural parts. He had shown admirable capacity for public affairs in various positions in Iowa, and had served that State efficiently in the Senate of the United States, which he entered March 4, 1855, at thirty-five years of age. He was a pronounced and unflinching Republican, ready from personal attachment to Mr. Lincoln to follow him in any public policy, and while somewhat distrustful of Johnson was undoubtedly gratified and re-assured by the tone of his speeches. Mr. Harlan was not hasty in judgment but thoughtful and reflective, and aimed always to be just in his conclusions.

William Dennison of Ohio was Postmaster-General. He had succeeded Montgomery Blair during the Presidential campaign of 1864, when that officer's resignation was asked by the President as a means of appeasing the unreasonable and unreasoning body of men who had attempted to divide the Republican party at the height of the war by the nomination of General Fremont as a candidate for the Presidency. Mr. Dennison was an amiable man of high principles and just intentions, but he was not endowed with executive force or the qualities of a leader. He had secured the warm friendship of Mr. Lincoln during his service as war governor of Ohio. His selection of president of the convention that nominated Mr. Lincoln a second time was due to the zeal and the warmth with which he had supported the National Administration. His sympathies and associations were all with the strong Republican element of the country, and he was sure to be firm and exacting in his views of a reconstruction policy.

James Speed was Attorney-General. He had succeeded Edward Bates in December, 1864, and was selected for reasons which were partly personal, partly public. He was a Kentuckian and a Clay Whig, two points in his history which strongly attracted the favor of Mr. Lincoln. But more than all, he was the brother of Joshua Speed, with whom in young manhood, if not indeed in boyhood, Mr. Lincoln had been closely associated in Illinois. Of most kindly and generous nature, Mr. Lincoln was slow to acquire intimacies, and had few close friendships. But those who knew him well cannot fail to remember the kindling eye, the warmth of expression, the depth of personal interest and attachment with which he always spoke of "Josh Speed," and the almost boyish fervor with which he related incidents and anecdotes of their early association. James Speed, to whom Mr. Lincoln had been thus drawn, was a highly respectable lawyer, and was altogether a fit man to succeed Mr. Bates as the Border-State member of the Cabinet. As a Southern man, he was expected to favor a lenient policy towards his offending brethren, and was supposed to look coldly upon much that was implied in the President's declarations.

Of the six Cabinet ministers thus enumerated, it will be seen that three—Mr. McCulloch, Mr. Welles, and Mr. Speed—might be regarded as favoring a conservative plan of reconstruction, and three—Mr. Stanton, Mr. Harlan, and Mr. Dennison—a radical plan. These positions were thus assigned from circumstantial evidence rather than from direct declarations of the gentlemen themselves. At a time so critical, responsible officials were naturally reserved and cautious in the expression of opinions. But it was instinctively perceived by close observers of public events, that in correctly estimating the influence of the Cabinet upon the policy of President Johnson, great consideration must be given to the attitude which Mr. Seward might assume. If his strength should go with Mr. Stanton and the radical wing of the Cabinet, the President would be readily and completely confirmed in the line of policy frequently forecast in his speeches. If on the other hand, Mr. Seward should follow the generally anticipated course, and take ground against the harsh and vengeful spirit indicated by the President, a struggle would ensue, of which the issue would be doubtful.

During the period in which Mr. Johnson had been copiously illustrating the guilt of treason, and avowing his intention to punish traitors with the severest penalty known to the law, Mr. Seward lay wounded and helpless. His injuries, received at the hands of the assassin, Payne, at almost the same moment in which Booth fired his fatal shot at the President, were at first considered mortal. The murderous assault came only a short time after a severe injury Mr. Seward had received in consequence of being violently thrown from his carriage. The shock to his nervous system from the attack of the assassin was so great that his physicians did not for some days permit him to learn the fate of the President, or even to know that his own son, Mr. Frederick Seward, who had been his faithful and able assistant at the State Department, was also one of the victims of the plot of assassination, and was lying, as it was feared, and indeed generally believed, at the point of death.

To the joy no less than to the surprise of the entire country Mr. Seward rallied and regained his strength very rapidly. He was wounded on the night of the 14th of April. By the first of May he had so far recovered as to be informed somewhat minutely of the sorrowful situation. By the tenth of the month he received visits from the President and his fellow-members of the Cabinet, and conferred with them on the engrossing questions that pressed upon the Administration. On the 20th he repaired to the Department of State—which then occupied the present site of the north front of the Treasury building—and held conference with foreign ministers, especially with the minister of France, touching the complication in Mexico. From that time onward, though still weak, and bowed down with grief by the death of Mr. Lincoln and the possibly impeding death of one still nearer to him, Mr. Seward gave close attention to public affairs. The need of action and of energy so pressed upon him that he found no time to utter lamentation, none to indulge even in the most sacred personal grief. The heroic element of the man was displayed at its best. His moral strength, his mental fibre, his wiry constitution were all tested to their utmost, and no doubt to the serious shortening of his days.

Mr. Seward feared that the country was in danger of suffering very seriously from a possible, if not indeed probable, mistake of the Administration. In the creed of his own statesmanship, there was no article that comprehended revenge as a just motive for action. No man had suffered more of personal obloquy from the South than he, no one living had received deeper personal injury from the demoniac spirit, the wicked inspiration of the rebellion. But he did not for one moment permit those causes which would have powerfully influenced lower natures to control his action, or even to extort a single word of passionate resentment.

It had been Mr. Seward's fortune at different epochs in the country's history and in different phases of his own career to incur the harshest censure from political associates. He had been accused at one time of urging the anti-slavery cause so far as to endanger the Union; and, when the Union was endangered, he was accused of being willing to sacrifice the anti-slavery cause to save it. "The American people," said he in February, 1861, "have in our day two great interests,—one the ascendency of freedom, the other the integrity of the Union. The slavery interest has derived its whole political power from bringing the latter object into antagonism with the former. Twelve years ago Freedom was in danger, and the Union was not. . . . To-day practically Freedom is not in danger, and the Union is. With the loss of the Union, all would be lost." Mr. Seward, influenced by this belief, went farther in the direction of conciliation for the avoidance of war than his associates were willing to follow. His words gave offense to some who had long been his most earnest supporters,—a fact thus pointedly recognized by him: "I speak now singly for Union, striving if possible to save it peaceably; if not possible, then to cast the responsibility upon the party of slavery. For this singleness of speech, I am suspected of infidelity to freedom." But Mr. Seward held his course firmly, and waited for vindication as men of rectitude and true greatness can afford to wait. "I refer myself not to the men of my time, but to the judgment of history."

A similar dedication of himself to the judgment of history was in Mr. Seward's opinion again demanded of him. He was firmly persuaded that the wisest plan of reconstruction was the one which would be speediest; that for the sake of impressing the world with the strength and the marvelous power of self-government, with its Law, its Order, its Peace, we should at the earliest possible moment have every State restored to its normal relations with the Union. He did not believe that guarantee of any kind beyond an oath of renewed loyalty was needful. He was willing to place implicit faith in the coercive power of self-interest operating upon the men lately in rebellion. He agreed neither with the President's proclaimed policy of blood, nor with that held by the vast majority of his own political associates, which, avoiding the rigor of personal punishment, sought by exclusion from political honor and emolument to administer wholesome discipline to the men who had brought peril to the Government and suffering to the people.

Mr. Seward was undoubtedly influenced in no small degree in these conclusions by the habit of mind he had acquired in conducting the foreign affairs of the Government during the period of the war. He had keenly felt the reproach, the taunt, and the open or ill-disguised satisfaction reflected by a large number of the public men of Europe that we were no longer and could never again be "the United States of America." He felt that the experiment of Imperial Government in Mexico, then in progress under Maximilian, was a disturbing element, and tended by possible conflicts on this continent to embroil us with at least two great European powers. The defense against that unwelcome alternative, and the defense against its evil result, if it should come, would in his judgment be found in a completely restored Union—with the National Government supreme, and all its parts working in harmony and in strength. He believed moreover that the legislation which should affect the South, now that peace had returned, should be shared by representatives of that section, and that as such participation must at last come if we were to have a restored Republic, the wisest policy was to concede it at once, and not nurture by delay a new form of discontent, and induce by withholding confidence a new phase of distrust and disobedience among the Southern people.

Entertaining these views, and deeply impressed with the importance of incorporating them in the plan of reconstruction, Mr. Seward rose from his sick-bed, pale, emaciated, and sorrowful, to persuade his associates in the Government, of the wisdom and necessity of adopting them. He had undoubtedly a hard task with the President. The two men were naturally antagonistic on so many points that agreement and cordiality seemed impossible upon a question in regard to which they held views diametrically opposite. Mr. Johnson inherited all his political principles from the Democratic party. He had been filled with an intense hatred of the Whigs and with an almost superstitious dread of the Federalists. Mr. Seward and he were therefore political antipodes. The one was the eulogist and follower of John Quincy Adams, the other was a sincere believer in the creed and the measures of Andrew Jackson. As Adams and Jackson had agreed only in devotion to the Union, so now Seward and Johnson seemed to have no other principle of Government in common, and that principle was equally strong in each.

Not only was this obstacle of inherent difference of political view in Mr. Seward's way, but he also encountered an intense personal prejudice which even while he was disabled by wounds had been insinuated into the President's mind. Nor had Mr. Seward any force of popularity at the time with the Republican party of the country. It had fallen to his lot during the four eventful years of the war to assume unpleasant responsibilities and to perform ungracious acts. He was not at the head of a department where popular applause awaited his ablest work, or where popular attention was attracted by the most brilliant triumphs of his diplomatic correspondence.

The successful placing of a vast loan among the people redounded everywhere to the praise of Mr. Chase. The gaining of a victory in the field reflected credit upon Mr. Stanton. But a series of diplomatic papers far outreaching in scope and grasp those of any statesman or publicist with whom he was in correspondence, recalling in skill the best efforts of Talleyrand, and in spirit the loftiest ideals of Jefferson, did not advance the popularity of Mr. Seward because the field of his achievements and triumphs was not one in which the masses of the people took an active interest. The most difficult and in many cases the most successful of diplomatic work is necessarily confidential for long periods. In legislative halls, discussion on questions of interest enlists public attention and holds the popular mind in suspense before the fate of the measure is decided. But the dispatches and arguments of a minister of Foreign Affairs, which may lead to results of great consequence to his country, are not gazetted till long after they have borne their fruit; and the public rejoicing in the conclusion, seldom turns to examine the toilsome process by which it was attained. It was from the comparative isolation of the Department of State, four years removed from active contact with the people, that Mr. Seward now assumed the task of controlling the new President and directing his policy on the weightiest question of his Administration.

Those who thoroughly knew Mr. Seward through all the stages of his political career were aware that, great as he was in public speech, in the Senate, at the Bar, before popular assemblies, cogent and powerful as he had so often proved with his pen, his one peculiar gift, greater perhaps than any other with which he was endowed, was his faculty, in personal intercourse with one man or with a small number of men, of enforcing his own views and taking captive his hearers. With the President alone, or with a body no larger than a Cabinet, where the conferences and discussion are informal and conversational, Mr. Seward shone with remarkable brilliancy and with power unsurpassed. He possessed a characteristic rare among men who have been long accustomed to lead,—he was a good listener. He gave deferential attention to remarks addressed to him, paid the graceful and insinuating compliment of seeming much impressed, and offered the delicate flattery, when he came to reply, of repeating the argument of his opponent in phrase far more affluent and eloquent than that in which it was originally stated.

In his final summing up of the case, when those with whom he was conferring were, in Dr. Johnson's phrase, "talked out," Mr. Seward carried all before him. His logic was clear and true, his illustration both copious and felicitous, his rapid citation of historical precedents surprising even to those who thought they had themselves exhausted the subject. His temper was too amiable and serene for stinging wit or biting sarcasm, but he had a playful humor which kept the minds of his hearers in that receptive and compliant state which disposed them the more readily to give full and generous consideration to all the strong parts of his argument. It might well indeed be said of Mr. Seward as Mr. Webster said of Samuel Dexter, "The earnestness of his convictions wrought conviction in others. One was convinced and believed and assented because it was gratifying and delightful to think and feel and believe in unison with an intellect of such evident superiority."

Equipped with these rare endowments, it is not strange that Mr. Seward made a deep impression upon the mind of the President. In conflicts of opinion the superior mind, the subtle address, the fixed purpose, the gentle yet strong will, must in the end prevail. Mr. Seward gave to the President the most luminous exposition of his own views, warm, generous, patriotic in tone. He set before him the glory of an Administration which should completely re-establish the union of the States, and re-unite the hearts of the people, now estranged by civil conflict. He impressed him with the danger of delay to the Republic and with the discredit which would attach to himself if he should leave to another President the grateful task of reconciliation. He pictured to him the National Constellation no longer obscured but with every star in its orbit, all revolving in harmony, and once more shining with a brilliancy undimmed by the smallest cloud in the political heavens.

By his arguments and his eloquence Mr. Seward completely captivated the President. He effectually persuaded him that a policy of anger and hate and vengeance could lead only to evil results; that the one supreme demand of the country was confidence and repose; that the ends of justice could be reached by methods and measures altogether consistent with mercy. The President was gradually influenced by Mr. Seward's arguments, though their whole tenor was against his strongest predilections and against his pronounced and public committals to a policy directly the reverse of that to which he was now, almost imperceptibly to himself, yielding assent. The man who had in April avowed himself in favor of "the halter for intelligent, influential traitors," who passionately declared during the interval between the fall of Richmond and the death of Mr. Lincoln that "traitors should be arrested, tried, convicted, and hanged," was now about to proclaim a policy of reconstruction without attempting the indictment of even one traitor, or issuing a warrant for the arrest of a single participant in the Rebellion aside from those suspected of personal crime in connection with the noted conspiracy of assassination.

In this serious struggle with the President, Mr. Seward's influence was supplemented and enhanced by the timely and artful interposition of clever men from the South. A large class in that section quickly perceived the amelioration of the President's feelings, and they used every judicious effort to forward and develop it. They were ready to forget all the hard words of Johnson, and to forgive all his harsh acts, for the great end to be gained to their States and their people by turning him aside from his proclaimed policy of punishing a great number of rebels with the utmost severity of the law. Johnson's wrath was evidently appeased by the complaisance shown by leading men of the South. He was not especially open to flattery, but it was noticed that words of commendation from his native section seemed peculiarly pleasing to him.

The tendency of his mind under such influences was perhaps not unnatural. It is a common instinct of mankind to covet in an especial degree the good will of the community among whom the years of childhood and boyhood are spent. Applause from old friends and neighbors is the most grateful that ever reaches human ears. When Washington's renown filled two continents, he was still sensitive respecting his popularity among the freeholders of Virginia. When Bonaparte had kingdoms and empires at his feet, he was jealous of his fame with the untamed spirits of Corsica, where among the veterans of Paoli he had received the fiery inspiration of war. The boundless admiration and gratitude of American never compensated Lafayette for the failure of his career in France. This instinct had its full sway over Johnson. It was not in the order of nature that he should esteem his popularity among Northern men, to whom he was a stranger, as highly as he would esteem it among the men of the South, with whom he had been associated during the whole of his career. In that section he was born. There he had acquired the fame which brought him national honors, and after his public service should end he looked forward to a peaceful close of life in the beautiful land which had always been his home.

Still another influence wrought powerfully on the President's mind. He had inherited poverty in a community where during the slave system riches were especially envied and honored. He had been reared in the lower walks of life among a people peculiarly given to arbitrary social distinction and to aristocratic pretensions as positive and tenacious as they were often ill-founded and unsubstantial. From the ranks of the rich and the aristocratic in the South, Johnson had always been excluded. Even when he was governor of his State or a senator of the United States, he found himself socially inferior to many whom he excelled in intellect and character. His sentiments were regarded as hostile to slavery, and to be hostile to slavery was to fall inevitably under the ban in any part of the South for the fifty years preceding the war. His political strength was with the non-slave-holding white population of Tennessee which was vastly larger than the slave-holding population, the proportion indeed being twenty-seven to one. With these a "good fellow" ranked all the higher for not possessing the graces or, as they would term them, the "airs" of society.

As Mr. Johnson grew in public favor and increased in reputation, as his talents were admitted and his power in debate appreciated, he became eager to compel recognition from those who had successfully proscribed him. A man who is born to social equality with the best of his community, and accustomed in his earlier years to its enjoyment, does not feel the sting of attempted exclusion, but is rather made pleasantly conscious of the prestige which inspires the adverse effort and can look upon its bitterness in a spirit of lofty disdain. Wendell Phillips, descended from a long line of distinguished ancestry, was amused rather than disconcerted by the strenuous but futile attempts to ostracize him for the maintenance of opinions which he lived to see his native city adopt and enforce. But the feeling is far different in a man who has experienced only a galling sense of inferiority. To such a one, advancing either in fortune or in fame, social prominence seems a necessity, without which other gifts constitute only the aggravations of life.

It was therefore with a sense of exaltation that Johnson beheld as applicants for his consideration and suppliants for his mercy many of those in the South who had never recognized him as a social equal. A mind of true loftiness would not have been swayed by such a change of relative positions, but it was inevitable that a mind of Johnson's type, which if not ignoble was certainly not noble, should yield to its flattering and seductive influence. In the present attitude of the leading men of the South towards him, he saw the one triumph which sweetened his life, the one requisite which had been needed to complete his happiness. In securing the good opinion of his native South, he would attain the goal of his highest ambition, he would conquer the haughty enemy who during all the years of his public career had been able to fix upon him the bade of social inferiority.

On the 29th of May (1865), nineteen days after Mr. Seward's first interview with President Johnson, and nine days after his first visit to the State Department, two decisive steps were taken in the work of reconstruction. Both steps proceeded on the theory that every act needful for the rehabilitation of the seceded States could be accomplished by the Executive Department of the Government. This was known to be the favorite doctrine of Mr. Seward, and the President readily acquiesced in its correctness. There in nothing of which a public officer can be so easily persuaded as of the enlarged jurisdiction which pertains to his station. If the officer be of bold mind, he arrogates power for purposes of ambition; and even with timid men power is often assumed as a measure of protection and defense. Mr. Johnson was a man of unquestioned courage, and was never afraid to assume personal and official responsibility when circumstances justified and demanded it. Mr. Seward had therefore no difficulty in persuading him that he possessed, as President, every power needful to accomplish the complete reconstruction of the rebellious States.

The first of these important acts of reconstruction, upon the expediency of which the President and Mr. Seward had agreed, was the issuing of a Proclamation of Amnesty and Pardon to "all persons who have directly or indirectly participated in the existing Rebellion" upon the condition that such persons should take and subscribe an oath —to be registered for permanent preservation—solemnly declaring that henceforth they would "faithfully support, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States and the union of the States thereunder;" and that they would also "abide by and faithfully support all laws and proclamation which have been made during the existing Rebellion, with reference to the emancipation of slaves." It was the first official paper which Mr. Seward attested as Secretary of State under President Johnson. He undoubtedly intended to signalize his return to health and his resumption of official duty by public participation in an act which he regarded as one of wisdom and mercy —an act which was wise because merciful.

The general declaration of amnesty was somewhat narrowed in its scope by the enumeration, at the end of the proclamation, of certain classes which were excepted from its benefit. In naming these classes a keen discrimination had been made as to the character and degree of guilt on the part of those who had participated in the Rebellion.

—First, "All diplomatic officers and foreign agents of the Confederate Government" were excluded. Their offense was ranked high because of their efforts to embroil us with other nations.

—Second, "All who left judicial stations under the United States to aid the Rebellion." They were held to be specially culpable because they had been highly honored by their Government, and because they could not, like many, plead in excuse the excitement and antagonisms which spring from an active participation in political affairs.

—Third, "All military and naval officers of the Confederacy above the rank of colonel in the army or lieutenant in the navy." The men who actually bore arms were, of course, the chief offenders; but holding officers only of high grade accountable, was intended as an act of marked and significant leniency to the multitude of the rank and file.

—Fourth, "All who left seats in the Congress of the United States to join the Rebellion." These should, indeed, have been first named, for they, above all other men, fomented the Rebellion in its early stages.

—Fifth, "All who resigned, or tendered resignations, in the Army or Navy of the United States to evade duty in resisting the Rebellion." These men were even more culpable than those who joined the Rebellion. They were not openly traitors, but were popularly and significantly termed "sneaks."

—Sixth, "All who have been engaged in treating otherwise than as lawful prisoners of war, persons found in the United-States service as officers, soldiers, or seamen." This was specially directed against those who had maltreated negro troops and attempted, by personal cruelty, to frighten them from the National service.

—Seventh, "All persons who have been, or are, absentees from the United States for the purpose of aiding the Rebellion." The men who had misled public opinion in England, and who hovered along the Canadian border during the war, concocting schemes for burning Northern cities, and for spreading the infection of yellow-fever and the plague of small-pox in the loyal States, were especially aimed at in this exclusion.

—Eighth, "All officers in the rebel service who had been educated at the United-States Military or Naval Academy." These men had received the bounty of the Government, shared its confidence, and were under peculiar obligation to defend it.

—Ninth, "All men who held the pretended offices of governors of States in insurrection against the United States." As the civil war had for its basis the dogma of State-rights, the chief executive officers of States represented in an especial manner the guilt of the Rebellion.

—Tenth, "All persons who left their homes within the jurisdiction and protection of the United States, and passed beyond the Federal military lines into the pretended Confederate States for the purpose of aiding the Rebellion." The personal guilt of these men lay in the fact that, according to their own theory of State-rights, they were traitors. They did not adhere to the States which gave them birth, or to the States of which they were citizens.

—Eleventh, "All persons who have been engaged in the destruction of the commerce of the United States upon the high seas, and all persons who have been engaged in destroying the commerce of the United States upon the lakes and rivers that separate the British Provinces from the United States." The acts of these men were specially reprobated because they did not proceed according to the laws of war. In the popular mind they were held amenable to the charge of piracy.

—Twelfth, "All persons who, at the time when they seek to obtain amnesty and pardon, are in military, naval, or civil confinement, as prisoners of war, or persons detained for offenses of any kind either before or after conviction." Many prisoners in the custody of the Government were charged with acts of peculiar cruelty or perfidy, especially with the committal of personal outrages which did not, in any degree, affect the fortunes of the war, and were not therefore entitled to the excuse of having been the necessities of a bad cause.

—Thirteenth, "All participants in the Rebellion, the estimated value of whose taxable property is over twenty thousand dollars." The intention of this exception was to draw the line between the men who could exert influence in their respective communities, and those who were necessarily led by others. Fixing this partition between voluntary and involuntary guilt on the property line was a favorite measure with President Johnson. It met with much opposition from the loyal as well as the disloyal.

A fourteenth class was excepted, not from the benefits of the proclamation of amnesty, but from the necessity of taking the oath demanded from the other classes. Full pardon was granted, without further act on their part, to all who had taken the oath prescribed in President Lincoln's proclamation of December 8, 1863, and who had thenceforward kept and maintained the same inviolate. The status of every man in the Confederate States was thus determined and proclaimed, —a procedure which was intended to be the corner-stone of the work of reconstruction.

Standing naked and unqualified these thirteen exceptions might seem to imply a harshness of treatment inconsistent with the spirit of forgiveness and generosity upon which Mr. Seward had been insisting, and to which the President had apparently assented. The classes excepted were more numerous and far more comprehensive than those excluded from amnesty under the proclamation issued by Mr. Lincoln on the 8th of December, 1863. That proclamation not only embodied the views of Mr. Lincoln, but was approved by Mr. Seward in whole and in detail. The difference between the two proclamations was not, however, radical, and was readily reconcilable with Mr. Seward's purpose. He had indeed equalized their attributes of mercy by inducing President Johnson to insert a proviso declaring that "special application may be made to the President for pardon by any person belonging to the excepted classes," and the assurance was added that "such clemency will be liberally extended for amnesty and pardon." Applications came in great numbers from the South. In the archives of the State Department there are some twenty-four large volumes recording the pardons granted in less than nine months after the proclamation. The aggregate number is nearly fourteen thousand, and the list includes prominent men of all classes in the South, who, recognizing the fact that the Rebellion had failed, turned, as the only alternative, to the Government which had conquered and was now ready to extend a magnanimous forgiveness. Many of those sought to place themselves in harmony with the restored Union, and looked forward hopefully to the events of the future. Many others, as it must be regretfully but truthfully recorded, appeared to have no proper appreciation of the leniency extended to them. They accepted every favor with an ill grace, and showed rancorous hatred to the National Government even when they knew it only as a benefactor.

Having by the proclamation extended amnesty on the simple condition of an oath of loyalty to the Union and the Constitution, and obedience to the Decree of Emancipation, the President had established a definite and easily ascertainable constituency of white men in the South to whom the work of reconstructing civil government in the several States might be intrusted. A circular from Mr. Seward accompanied the proclamation, directing that the oath might "be taken and subscribed before any commissioned officer, civil, military, or naval, in the service of the United States, or before any civil or military officer of a loyal State or Territory, who, by the laws thereof, may be qualified to administer oaths." Every one who took the oath was entitled to a certified copy of it, as the proof of his restoration to all civil rights, and a duplicate, properly vouched, was forwarded to the State Department, to be "deposited and remain in the archives of the Government." Mr. Seward had thus adapted the simplest, most convenient, and least expensive process for the administration of the oath of loyalty. Indeed the certifying officer was almost brought to the door of every Southern household. The mercy and grace of the Government fell upon the great mass of those who had been engaged in rebellion as gently and as plenteously as the rain from heaven upon the place beneath the feet of the offenders.

With these details complete, a second step of great moment was taken by the Government on the same day (May 29). A proclamation was issued appointing William W. Holden provisional governor of the State of North Carolina, and intrusting to him, with the co-operation of the constituency provided for in the first proclamation, the important work of reconstructing civil government in the State. The proclamation made it the duty of Governor Holden "at the earliest practicable period, to prescribe such rules and regulations as may be necessary and proper for assembling a convention—composed of delegates who are loyal to the United States and no others—for the purpose of altering or amending the Constitution thereof, and with authority to exercise, within the limit of said State, all the powers necessary and proper to enable the loyal people of the State of North Carolina to restore said State to its constitutional relations to the Federal Government and to present such a Republican form of State Government as will entitle the State to the guaranty of the United States therefor and its people against invasion, insurrections, and domestic violence."

It was especially provided in the proclamation that in "choosing delegates to any State Convention no person shall be qualified as an elector or eligible as a member unless he shall have previously taken the prescribed oath of allegiance, and unless he shall also possess the qualifications of a voter as defined under the Constitution and Laws of North Carolina as they existed on the 20th of May, 1861, immediately prior to the so-called ordinance of secession." Mr. Lincoln had in mind, as was shown by his letter to Governor Hahn of Louisiana, to try the experiment of negro suffrage, beginning with those who had served in the Union Army, and who could read and write; but President Johnson's plan confined the suffrage to white men, by prescribing the same qualifications as were required in North Carolina before the war. The convention that might be chosen by the voters whose qualifications were thus preliminarily defined, or the Legislature which the convention might order to meet, were empowered to prescribe the permanent qualifications of voters and the eligibility of persons to hold office under the Constitution and Laws of the State—"a power," as the President was careful to declare, "which the people of the several States composing the Federal Union have rightfully exercised from the origin of the Government to the present time."

The military commander of the Department of North Carolina and all officers and persons in the military and naval service of the United States were directed to aid and assist in carrying the proclamation into effect, and they were specially ordered to "abstain from hindering, impeding, or discouraging the loyal people in any manner whatever from the organization of a State Government as herein authorized." The several heads of the Executive Departments were directed to re-establish the entire machinery of the National Government within the limits of North Carolina. The Secretary of the Treasury was directed to nominate for appointment, collectors of customs, assessors and collectors of internal revenue, and such other officers of the Treasury Department as were authorized by law. The Postmaster-General was directed to re-establish the post-offices and postmasters. The United-States district judge was directed to hold courts in North Carolina, and the Attorney-General was ordered to "enforce the administration and jurisdiction of the Federal courts." In short, every power of the National Government in North Carolina was re-asserted, every function re-established, every duty re-assumed. In making appointments for office, it was ordered in the proclamation that "preference shall be given to qualified loyal persons residing within the districts where their respective duties are to be performed. But if suitable residents of the districts shall not be found, then persons residing in other States or districts shall be appointed."

A fortnight later, on the 13th of June, a proclamation was issued for the reconstruction of the civil government of Mississippi, and William L. Sharkey was appointed provisional governor. Four days later, on the 17th of June, a similar proclamation was issued for Georgia with James Johnson for provisional governor, and for Texas with Andrew J. Hamilton for provisional governor. On the 21st of the same month Lewis E. Parsons was appointed provisional governor of Alabama, and on the 30th Benjamin F. Perry was appointed provisional governor of South Carolina. On the 13th of July the list was completed by the appointment of William Marvin as provisional governor of Florida. The precise text of the North-Carolina proclamation, mutatis mutandis, was repeated in each one of those relating to these six States. The process was designed to be exhaustive by fully restoring every connection existing under the Constitution between the States and the National Government. Viewed merely as a theory it was perfect. The danger was that in the test of actual practice it might end like so many similar experiments in other countries. An opponent wittily characterized it as Government by diagram, accurately drawn on an Executive blackboard.

For the reconstruction of the other four States of the Confederacy different provisions were made. In Virginia Francis H. Pierpont had been made governor after the State had seceded and the State of West Virginia had been established. He was the head of the Loyal Government of Virginia, which gave its assent to the division of the State. His Government, the shell of which had been preserved after West Virginia's separate existence had been recognized by the National Government, with its temporary capital at Alexandria, was accepted by President Johnson's Administration as the legitimate Government of Virginia. All its archives, property, and effects, as was afterwards said by Thaddeus Stevens, were taken to Richmond in an ambulance. As early as the 9th of May President Johnson had issued a proclamation recognizing Mr. Pierpont as governor of the State, and assuring him that he would be "aided by the Federal Government, so far as may be necessary, in the lawful measures he may take for the extension and administration of the State Government throughout the geographical limits of said State." The same proclamation declared that "All acts and proceedings of the political, military, and civil organizations which have been in a state of insurrection and rebellion within the State of Virginia against the laws and authority of the United States are declared null and void." The proclamation further declared that any person assuming to exercise any authority in Virginia by virtue of a military of civil commission issued by Jefferson Davis, President of the so-called Confederate States, or by John Letcher, or William Smith, Governors of Virginia, "shall be deemed and taken as in rebellion against the United States, and dealt with accordingly."

A course not dissimilar to that adopted in Virginia was followed in Louisiana, Arkansas, and Tennessee. In all of them the so-called "ten per cent" governments established under Mr. Lincoln's authority were now recognized. Governor Hahn was held to be the true executive of Louisiana,—a concession all the more readily made, because, under the revised constitution of the State, the people would be called upon in the approaching autumn to choose his successor. In Arkansas also, the Government, with Isaac Murphy at its head, was now recognized; and in Tennessee the authority of William G. Brownlow as governor was promptly accepted as constitutional and regular. This Government, as already narrated, had been brought into existence by the earnest effort of Mr. Johnson in the period which had elapsed between his election and inauguration as Vice-President. The direct committal of the President to the legality of his own work was the controlling cause which led to the recognition of the Governments of the four States under consideration. But for the impossibility of disowning or in any way discrediting the existing Government of Tennessee, it is probably that the plan by which provisional governments were established in seven of the rebellious States would have been uniformly applied to the entire eleven which formed the Confederacy. The same executives would doubtless have been selected for provisional service, but there would have been evident advantage in treating all the States in precisely the same manner.

The scope and design of the President's reconstruction policy were thus made fully apparent. The work was committed to the white men of the several States, who, outside of the excepted classes, were ready to take the oath of allegiance to the Government. They were empowered to form the Convention which should shape the organic law of the State, and in that law they were authorized to establish the basis of suffrage,—a right which the President held to belong to the State, to be, indeed, inalienable from the State. It was, therefore, evident that the white men who were allowed to regain all the rights of citizenship by a mere oath of fidelity would not, in framing an organic law for the State, exclude the classes whom the President had excepted from pardon. The excluded classes had been the leaders, the commanders, the men of position, the friends and the patrons of those who, only less guilty because less influential and powerful, were now intrusted with the initial work in the re-establishment of civil Government in their respective States.

It was not a possible supposition that these men, when they assembled in convention, would exclude the entire leading class of the South, or even one member of it, from the full constitutional privileges and benefits of the civil Government they were about to re-organize. The suffrage conferred on others would, in like manner, be conferred on them: the offices of rank and emolument in the new Government would likewise be open to them, and it would thus be made evident that the President's exclusion of these classes was merely an inhibition from doing a preliminary work which others would do equally well for them. Unless, therefore, some other form of denial or exclusion should be announced,—and none other apparently was intended,—the President's policy would end in promptly handing over to the authors and designers of the Rebellion the complete control of the States whose civil power they had willfully perverted and turned against the National authority. Mr. Seward's magnanimity, his boundless confidence in human nature, had led him to believe that this was wise policy. He believed it so firmly that he had persuaded the President—against his own will and purpose —to adopt it, and to attempt its enforcement.

It soon became evident that President Johnson realized how completely he had excluded men of the colored race from any share of political power in the Southern States by his process of reconstruction. It is true that he stood loyally by the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, which had been submitted to Congress before his accession to the Presidency but had not yet been ratified by the States. He used his influence, which was commanding, to induce the Southern States to accept it in good faith. But he saw, as others had seen before him, that this was not going far enough to satisfy the reasonable desire of many in the North whom he felt it necessary to conciliate. To emancipate the negro and conceded to him no possible power wherewith to protect his freedom would, in the judgment of many Northern philanthropists, prove the merest mockery of justice. This sentiment wrought on Mr. Johnson so powerfully that against his own wish he was compelled to address a circular to his provisional governors, suggesting that the elective franchise should be extended to all persons of color "who can read the Constitution of the United States, and write their names, and also to those who own real estate valued at not less than two hundred and fifty dollar, and pay taxes thereon."

In writing to Governor Sharkey of Mississippi in relation to this subject the President argued that his recommendations touching colored suffrage could be adopted "with perfect safety," and that thereby "the Southern States would be placed, with reference to free persons of color, upon the same basis with the free States." That Mr. Johnson made this recommendation simply from policy and not from any proper conception of its inherent justice is indicated by the closing paragraph in his letter to Governor Sharkey. Indeed, by imprudent language the President made an unnecessary exposure of the character of his motives, and deprived himself of much of the credit which might otherwise have belonged to him. "I hope and trust," he wrote to his Mississippi governor, "that your convention will do this, and as a consequence the Radicals, who are wild upon negro franchise, will be completely foiled in their attempt to keep the Southern States from renewing their relations to the Union by not accepting their senators and representatives."

At this period the President did not contemplate a break with the Republican party, much less a coalition with its opponents. He had the vanity to believe, or was at least under the delusion of believing that —with the exception of those whom he denominated Radicals—he could induce the party to follow him. Mr. Seward had undoubtedly influenced him to this conclusion, as the Secretary of State indulged the same hopeful anticipation himself. The President seemed to have no comprehension of the fact that with inconsiderable exceptions the entire party was composed of Radicals, men who in aim and sympathy were hostile to the purposes indicated by his policy. His own radicalism, from which Mr. Seward had succeeded in turning him, was the radicalism of revenge upon the authors of the Rebellion. The radicalism to which he now contemptuously indicated his opposition was that which looked to the broadening of human rights, to philanthropy, to charity, and to good deeds. Every intelligent Republican saw that the attempt which the President was now making with his provisional governors to secure a partial franchise to the colored man, was really only a petition to the States to act in a certain manner upon a subject over which, by his own proclamation, their power of control was declared to be absolute. With the prejudices which inspired the South,—prejudices made still more intense by the victory of the Union,—it was altogether certain that the Southern Conventions would not extend the elective franchise or civil right of any kind to the colored men of any class. The Southern States would undoubtedly agree pro forma to the Thirteenth Amendment as a means of regaining their representation in Congress. Beyond that, so long as the National Government conceded their right of control, it was probable that every step which did not conflict with the Constitution and Laws of the United States would be taken by the Southern States to deprive the negro of all power or opportunity for advancement. Mr. Seward, by the generous instinct of his own philanthropy, believed all things for the Union, which had been regenerated by the emancipation of the slave, and hoped all things for the Southern people, who had been chastened by defeat. His philanthropy taught him a faith in others as strong as his own consciousness of right; and, by assuming the full responsibility of the President's position, he brought to its support thousands of advocates who, but for his personal influence and persuasive power, would have opposed and spurned it.

The whole scheme of reconstruction, as originated by Mr. Seward and adopted by the President, was in operation by the middle of July, three months after the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. Every step taken was watched with the deepest solicitude by the loyal people. The rapid and thorough change in the President's position was clearly discerned and fully appreciated. His course of procedure was dividing the Republican party, and already encouraging the hopes of those in the North who had been the steady opponents of Mr. Lincoln's war policy, and of those in the South who had sought for four years to destroy the Great Republic. It soon became evident that the Northern Democrats who had been opposed to the war, and the Southern Democrats who had been defeated in the war, would unite in political action, and that the course of the National Administration would exercise a potential influence upon their success or failure. In turn, the course of the National Administration would certainly be influenced, and its fate in large degree determined, by the conduct of the Southern men, in whom the President was placing unbounded trust. Public interest was therefore transferred for the time from the acts of the President at the National Capital to the acts of the Reconstruction conventions about to assemble in the Southern States.

CHAPTER V.

A great opportunity was now given to the South. It was given especially to the leading men of the South. Only a few weeks before, they had all been expecting harsh treatment, many, indeed, anticipated punishment, not a few were dejectedly looking forward to a life of exile and want. The President's policy, which had been framed for him by Mr. Seward, charged all this. Confidence took the place of apprehension, the fear of punishment was removed, those who conscious of guilt had been dreading expatriation were bidden by the supreme authority of the Nation to stay in their own homes, and to assist in building up the waste and desolate places.

Never in the history of the world had so mighty a rebellion been subdued. Never had any rebellion been followed by treatment so lenient, forgiving, and generous on the part of the triumphant Government. The great mass of those who had resisted the National authority were restored to all their rights of citizenship by the simple taking of an oath of future loyalty, and those excepted from immediate re-instatement were promised full forgiveness on the slightest exhibition of repentance and good works. Mr. Seward believed, and had induced the President to believe, that frank and open generosity on the part of the Government would be responded to in like spirit on the part of those who had just emerged from rebellion. The Administration, therefore, waited with confidence for its justification, which could be made complete only by the display of a manly appreciation and noble course on the part of those who had participated in the Rebellion.

The desire for a complete restoration of all the States to their normal position, as pictured so attractively by Mr. Seward, was general and deep throughout the North. The policy of the President was therefore essentially aided by the patriotic and ardent love for the Union,—a love always present with the loyal people of the free States, but developed in an extraordinary degree by the costly struggle which the slaveholders' rebellion had precipitated. If the Southern States should meet the overture of the Administration in the spirit in which it was made, the probability was decidedly in favor of their restoration to their old places without condition, without promise, without sacrifice. Observing men in the loyal States regarded such a policy not only as weak and maudlin, but as utterly insufficient and assuredly dangerous to the future safety of the Government. But they realized at the same time that the most important demands of far-seeing statesmanship and of true patriotism might be disregarded, and even contemned, by a wild, unreasoning wish of the people to see the old Government, in all its parts, promptly and fully re-established. The popular cry which demanded "the Union as it was, the Constitution as it is," was echoed by many from emotional love of country, and by many more from a conviction that the financial interests of the Government and the commercial interest of the people called for the speediest settlement of all political questions. The Administration believed, and with good reason, that the combined influence of sentiment for the Union and the supposed necessities of trade would overcome all obstacles, and that the rebellious States would be so promptly and completely reconstructed that their senators and representatives would be admitted at the beginning of the next session of Congress.

In forming an estimate of the probably response of the South to the plan of reconstruction now submitted, the Administration was certainly justified in believing that its own spirit of liberality and good will would be met with like spirit by those who, having failed in war, were specially interested in promptly securing all the conditions of a magnanimous peace. It could not anticipate that quibbles would be made by the defeated and lately suppliant parties, that captious objections would be interposed, that carping criticism would be indulged, that gross outrages would be perpetrated, that absurd conditions would be demanded, and that finally a postponement of the whole procedure would be hazarded, indeed its utter failure secured, by the lack of tact, by the willfulness, and by the apparent ignorance of the Southern men who were in control.

The kindness, consideration, gentleness of Mr. Seward's recommendations, instead of securing a return of like feeling, seemed rather to inflame the misjudging men of the South with a new sense of resentment. Instead of calling forth the natural and proper response, it appeared rather to impress them afresh with that vain imagination of Northern timidity which had always been the besetting weakness of the South. It seemed impossible at the time, it seems even more plainly impossible on a review of the facts after the lapse of years, that any body of reasonable men could behave with the ineffable folly that marked the proceedings of the Reconstruction Conventions in the South, and the still greater folly that governed the succeeding Legislatures of the lately rebellious States.

In the President's proclamation accompanying the appointment of provisional governors he had taken the ground that "the Rebellion, in its revolutionary progress, has deprived the people (of the revolting States) of all civil Government." It is evident, therefore, that the President—eager and even impatient as he was for the process of reconstruction to be completed—expected that a new Government would be built on the full recognition of the new order of things, casting behind all that pertained to the old, or had the spirit of the old. "No man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment, for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the rent is made worse." This Scripture was exactly applicable to the Southern Conventions which assembled for reconstruction. They could begin anew with organic laws adapted to the great revolution which had swept over them, or they could patch up the old constitutions now become indissolubly associated with a rebellion which had been fostered and protected under their provisions. In every State the Southern leaders chose the latter form of procedure. They assumed that the old constitutions were still in full force and vigor, and they made only such amendments to them as would in their judgment promptly insure to their States the right of representation in Congress. They did not even stop to submit these changes to the popular vote, but assumed for their own assemblages of oligarches the full power to modify the organic laws of their States—an assumption without precedent and without repetition in the history of State constitutions in this country, and utterly subversive of the fundamental idea of Republican Government.

With these incomplete and ill-digested changes in the organic laws of their respective States, the Reconstruction conventions usurped legislative power, and hastily proceeded to order the election of representatives in Congress. The Congressional elections proved to be little else than partisan assemblages under the dictatorial direction of rebel authorities—just as the Reconstruction Conventions were, in their membership and their organization, little else than consulting bodies of Confederate officers under the rank of brigadier-general, actually sitting throughout their deliberations in the uniform of the rebel service, and apparently dictating to the Government of the Union the grounds on which they would consent to resume representation in the National Congress. A joint committee of Congress subsequently commented with appropriate directness upon this offensive phase of the Southern Conventions. "Hardly is the war closed," said the committee, "before the people of the insurrectionary States come forward and haughtily claim, as a right, the privilege of participating at once in that Government which they have for four years been fighting to overthrow. Allowed and encouraged by the Executive to organize State Governments, they at once placed in power leading rebels, unrepentant and unpardoned, excluding with contempt those who had manifested an attachment to the Union, and preferring in many instances those who had rendered themselves peculiarly obnoxious. In the face of the law requiring an oath that would necessarily exclude all such men from Federal offices, they have elected, with very few exceptions, as senators and representatives in Congress, the very men who have actively participated in the Rebellion, insultingly denouncing the law as unconstitutional."

The oath referred to in the foregoing extract from the committee's report is that popularly known as the "Ironclad oath," prescribed by the Act of July 2, 1862, to be taken by every person elected or appointed to any office of honor or profit under the Government of the United States, either in the civil, military, or naval departments of the public service, the President alone excepted. The officer, before entering upon his duties or receiving any emolument, was compelled to swear that he had "never voluntarily borne arms against the United States;" that he had "voluntarily given no aid, countenance, counsel, or encouragement to persons engaged in armed hostility to the National Government;" that he had "neither sought nor accepted nor attempted to exercise the functions of any office whatever under authority or pretended authority in hostility to the United States;" that he had "never yielded a voluntary support to any pretended Government within the United States, hostile or inimical thereto." Of course the men who had been waging war against the Government could not take this oath except by committing perjury and risking its pains and penalties. But nothing daunted by the existence of this obstacle at the threshold of public service, the most notorious rebels sought election to the Senate and House, boasting that they would prove the unconstitutionality of the Ironclad oath, and demand their seats.

Alexander H. Stephens "had the assurance," as the committee already quoted declared, "with that oath staring him in the face, to lay his credentials on the table of the Senate as a senator-elect from Georgia." When Congress adjourned, March 3, 1865, Mr. Stephens was acting as the Vice-President of the rebel Confederacy. Six weeks later the Confederacy was destroyed, and with a political agility unparalleled, with a degree of presumption unprecedented, Mr. Stephens secured an election to the Senate, and was in Washington at the ensuing session of Congress, asking admission to a seat as cooly as if every living man had forgotten that for four years he had been exerting his utmost effort to destroy the Constitution under which he now claimed the full rights of a citizen. In his astounding effrontery Mr. Stephens even went so far as to insist on interpreting to those loyal men, who had been conducting the Government of the United States through all its perils, the Constitution under which they had been acting, and to point out how they were depriving him of his rights by demanding an oath of loyalty and good faith as the condition on which he should be entitled to take part in legislating for the restored Union. The same committee, worthy at all times to be cited, declared further, that "Other rebels of scarcely less note and notoriety than Mr. Stephens were selected from other quarters. Professing no repentance, glorying apparently in the crime they had committed, avowing still, as the uncontradicted testimony of Mr. Stephens and many others proves, an adherence to the pernicious doctrine of secession, and declaring that they yielded only to necessity, they insist with unanimous voice upon their rights as States, and proclaim that they will submit to no conditions whatever as preliminary to their resumption of power under that Constitution which they still claim the right to repudiate."

Not only were the official acts of the Southern Conventions inspired by a spirit of apparently irreconcilable hatred of the Union, but the popular manifestations in the South were for more decided in the same direction. A sense of official propriety, no doubt, in some degree governed the conduct and modified the language of the members of the conventions. It was left to the press and the stump-orators of the South to give full expression to what they knew to be the ruling sentiment of the people. The report of the Congressional Committee, whose members had closely investigated all the facts, stated that "the Southern press, with few exceptions, abounds with weekly and daily abuse of the institutions and people of the loyal States; defends the men who led, and the principles which incited, the Rebellion; denounces and reviles Southern men who adhered to the Union; and strives constantly and unscrupulously, by every means in its power, to keep alive the fire and hate and discord between the sections; calling upon the President to violate his oath of office, overturn the Government by force of arms, and drive the representatives of the people from their seats in Congress. The National banner is openly insulted and the National airs scoffed at, not only by an ignorant populace, but at public meetings, and once, among other notorious instances, at a dinner given in honor of a notorious rebel, who had violated his oath and abandoned his flag. The same individual is elected to an important office in the leading city of his State, although an unpardoned rebel, and so offensive that the President refused to allow him to enter upon his official duties. In another State the leading general of the rebel armies in openly nominated for governor by the House of Delegates, and the nomination is hailed by the people with shouts of satisfaction and openly indorsed by the press."

These representations of the prevailing spirit in the South and of the conduct of Southern men were not the loose and exaggerated statements of Northern partisans put forth in influence political opinion in the loyal States. They were the deliberate and conscientious statements of an eminent committee of the two Houses of Congress, of which Senator Fessenden of Maine was chairman. The quotations already made are from the same official report—a report based upon exhaustive testimony and prepared with scrupulous care. In that report, which is to be taken as an absolutely truthful picture of the Southern States at the time, it is averred that "witnesses of the highest character testify that, without the protection of United-States troops, Union men, whether of Northern or Southern origin, would be obliged to abandon their homes. The feeling in many portions of the country toward the emancipated slaves, especially among the ignorant and uneducated, is one of vindictive and malicious hatred. The deep-seated prejudice against color is assiduously cultivated by the public journals and leads to acts of cruelty, oppression, and murder, which the local authorities are at no pains to prevent or punish."

It was further declared by Mr. Fessenden's committee "that the evidence of an intense hostility to the Federal Union, and an equally intense love for the late Confederacy, nurtured by the war, is decisive. While it appears that nearly all are willing to submit, at least for the time being, to the Federal authority, it is equally clear that the ruling motive is a desire to obtain the advantages which will be derived from a representation in Congress." It was also proved before the committee, on the testimony, or rather the admissions, of witnesses who had been prominent in the Rebellion, that "the generally prevailing opinion in the late Confederacy defends the legal right of secession and upholds the doctrine that the first allegiance of the people is due to the States and not to the United States." It was further admitted by the same class of witnesses that "the taxes levied by the United States will be paid only on compulsion and with great reluctance," and that "the people of the rebellious States would, if they could see a prospect of success, repudiate the National debt." It was stated by witnesses from the South, with evident pride, that "officers of the Union Army, on duty in the South, and Northern men who go there to engage in business, are generally detested and proscribed," and that "Southern men who adhered to the Union are bitterly hated and relentlessly persecuted."

Upon the conclusion of the work of the respective conventions, the election of State Legislatures and of senators and representatives in Congress followed as promptly as was practicable in the several States. The Legislatures were all in session before the close of the year 1865, and their proceedings startled the country. If any need existed for proof of the spirit that animated the conventions, or of the ends to which they had directed their work, it was furnished in full by the action of the Legislatures. Indeed, when the latter bodies assembled, they were inspired with a fresh accession of courage and daring, imparted by the example of the former and the apparent acquiescence of the North in their proceedings. The period between the adjournment of the conventions and the assembling of the Legislatures was so short that there was no time for the maturing of public opinion in the North, and still less for bringing it to bear in any way upon Southern action. It is, moreover, doubtful whether any representation, however strong, from the North, would have exerted the slightest influence in holding the South back from its mad course. Emboldened by the support of the National Administration, the Southern leaders believed that they could carry their designs through, and, instead of being restrained by the protest or the advice of Republicans, they chose with apparent gladness the course that would prove most offensive to them. It would indeed, according to their own boasts, add a peculiar gratification to their anticipated triumph if they could feel assured that it would bring chagrin or a sense of humiliation to the Republican masses of the loyal States.

At this critical period it was the ill fortune of the South to be misled by the Democratic press and the Democratic orators of the North, as it had been before on perilous occasions. The South had been induced by the same press and the same orators to believe, in the winter of 1860-61, that efforts at secession would not be resisted by arms. Many Northern Democrats had indeed given the assurance that if any attempt at coercion should be made by the Republican National Administration, they would themselves meet it with force, and that, if war should come, it would be in the free States and not in the slave States. The South, in 1865, had apparently forgotten these baseless assurances; they had forgotten that, in the hour of conflict, the Democrats who did not become loyal, at once became silent, and that the few—scattering exceptions to a general rule—who were demonstrative and loud in their sympathy for the rebels were compelled to flee or accept imprisonment in Fort Lafayette. They seemed again ready and eager to believe all the unsupported assertions which the Northern Democrats, in a spirit of effrontery and not without gasconade, ventured to put forth. It might be difficult to determine which displayed the greater folly—those who made false representations, or those who, warned by previous deception, appeared so ready to be influenced anew by deception equally gross.

The truth was that the Republicans of the North, constituting, as was shown by the elections of 1865, a majority in every State, were deeply concerned as to the fate and fortune of the colored population of the South. Only a minority of Republicans were ready to demand suffrage for those who had been recently emancipated, and who, from the ignorance peculiar to servitude, were presumably unfit to be intrusted with the elective franchise. The minority, however, was composed of very earnest men of the same type as those who originally created and combined the anti-slavery sentiment of the country, and who now espoused the right of the negro to equality before the law. Equality, they believed, could neither be conferred nor maintained unless the negro were invested with the badge of American manhood—the right to vote—a right which they were determined to guarantee as firmly to the colored man as it was already guaranteed to the white man.

The great mass of the Republicans stopped short of the demand for the conferment of suffrage on the negro. That privilege was indeed, still denied him in a majority of the loyal States, and it seemed illogical and unwarrantable to expect a more advanced philanthropy, a higher sense of justice, from the South than had been yet attained by the North. But without raising the question of suffrage, there were rights with which the negro must be endowed before he could essentially better his material condition or advance in knowledge. It was, first of all, required that he should have the full protection of the law of marriage, of which he had always been deprived, and that with the privilege he should be subjected to the honest observance of the obligations which marriage imposes—to the end that good morals should be inculcated, and that every child should have a responsible father. It was, in the second place, in the highest degree necessary that he should have the benefit of such laws as would assure to him the wages of his labor and confer upon him the right to acquire and hold real estate and other property, with the same security and protection enjoyed by the whites. In the third place, it was imperatively demanded that some provision be made for the rudimentary instruction of colored children, in order that they might learn the mechanical arts and have the privilege of working at such callings as were best adapted to them. The list of requirements might be enlarged, but the three which are given represent primary and indisputable necessities, without the concession and free establishment of which the negro, with nominal freedom, would be in a worse condition than if he had been left in slavery.

In view of these facts, the course of the new organized Legislatures was watched with deep and jealous interest. It was in their power to repair, in large degree, the blunders of policy—nay, the crimes against human rights—which the Reconstruction Conventions had abetted if not committed. The membership of the Legislatures in all the States was composed wholly of those who, either in the military or civil service, had aided the Rebellion. If in such an organization a spirit of moderation and justice should be shown, if consideration should be exhibited for the negro, even so far as to assure to him the inherent rights of human nature, a deep impression would be made on the conscience and the public opinion of the North. Such a course in the South might, indeed, open the way for the success of the simple and speedy process of reconstruction, upon which Mr. Seward had staked his reputation as a statesman, and to which Mr. Johnson had pledged the power and committed the fortunes of his Administration.

As soon as the Southern Legislatures assembled, it was made evident that their members disregarded, and even derided, the opinion of those who had conquered the Rebellion and held control of the Congress of the United States. If the Southern men had intended, as their one special and desirable aim, to inflame the public opinion of the North against them, they would have proceeded precisely as they did. They treated the negro, according to a vicious phrase which had at one time wide currency, "as possessing no rights which a white man was bound to respect." Assent to the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution by the Southern States was but a gross deception as long as they accompanied it with legislation which practically deprived the negro of every trace of liberty. That which was no offense in a white man was made a misdemeanor, a heinous crime, if committed by a negro. Both in the civil and criminal code his treatment was different from that to which the white man was subjected. He was compelled to work under a series of labor laws applicable only to his own race. The laws of vagrancy were so changed as, in many of their provisions, to apply only to him, and under their operation all freedom of movement and transit was denied. The liberty to sell his time at a fair market rate was destroyed by the interposition of apprentice laws. Avenues of usefulness and skill in which he might specially excel were closed against him lest he should compete with white men. In short his liberty in all directions was so curtailed that it was a bitter mockery to refer to him in the statutes as a "freedman." The truth was, that his liberty was merely of form and not of fact, and the slavery which was abolished by the organic law of a Nation was now to be revived by the enactments of a State.

Some of these enactments were peculiarly offensive, not to say atrocious. In Alabama, which might indeed serve as an example for the other rebellious States, "stubborn or refractory servants" and "servants who loiter away their time" were declared by law to be "vagrants," and might be brought before a justice of the peace and fined fifty dollars; and in default of payment they might be "hired out," on three days' notice by public outcry, for the period of "six months." No fair man could fail to see that the whole effect, and presumably the direct intent, of this law was to reduce the helpless negro to slavery for half the year—a punishment that could be repeated whenever desired, a punishment sure to be desired for that portion of each recurring year when his labor was specially valuable in connection with the cotton crop, while for the remainder of the time he might shift for himself. By this detestable process the "master" had the labor of the "servant" for a mere pittance; and even that pittance did not go to the servant, but was paid into the treasury of the county, and thus relived the white men from their proper share of taxation. There may have been more cruel laws enacted, but the statute-books of the world might be searched in vain for one of meaner injustice.

The foregoing process for restoring slavery in a modified form was applicable to men or women of any age. But for "minors" a more speedy and more sweeping methods was contrived by the law-makers of Alabama, who had just given their assent to the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution. They made it the "duty of all sheriffs, justices of the peace, and other civil officers of the several counties," to report the "names of all minors under the age of eighteen years, whose parents have not the means or who refuse to support said minors," and thereupon it was made the duty of the Court to "apprentice said minor to some suitable person on such terms as the Court may direct." Then follows a suggestive proviso directing that "if said minor be the child of a freedman" (as if any other class were really referred to!) "the former owner of said minor shall have the preference;" and "the judge of probate shall make a record of all the proceedings," for which he should be entitled to a fee of one dollar in each case, to be paid, as this atrocious law directed, by "the master or mistress." To tighten the grasp of ownership on the minor who was now styled an apprentice, it was enacted in almost the precise phrase of the old slave-code that "whoever shall entice said apprentice from his master of mistress, or furnish food or clothing to him or her, without said consent, shall be fined in a sum not exceeding five hundred dollars."

The ingenuity of the Alabama legislators in contriving schemes to re-enslave the negroes was not exhausted by the odious and comprehensive statutes already cited. They passed an Act to incorporate the city of Mobile, substituting a new charter for the old one. The city had suffered much from the suspension and decay of trade during the war, and it was in great need of labor to make repairs to streets, culverts, sewers, wharves, and all other public property. By the new charter, the mayor, aldermen, and common council were empowered "to cause all vagrants," . . . "all such as have no visible means of support," . . . "all who can show no reasonable cause of employment or business in the city," . . . "all who have no fixed residence or cannot give a good account of themselves," . . . "or are loitering in or about tippling-houses," "to give security for their good behavior for a reasonable time and to indemnify the city against any charge for their support, and in case of their inability or refusal to give such security, to cause them to be confined to labor for a limited time, not exceeding six calendar months, which said labor shall be designated by the said mayor, aldermen, and common council, for the benefit of said city."

It will be observed even by the least intelligent that the charge made in this city ordinance was, in substance, the poverty of the classes quoted—a poverty which was of course the inevitable result of slavery. To make the punishment for no crime effective, the city government was empowered "to appoint a person or persons to take those sentenced to labor from their place of confinement to the place appointed for their working, and to watch them while at labor and return them before sundown to their place of confinement; and, if they shall be found afterwards offending, such security may again be required, and for want thereof the like proceeding may again be had from time to time, as often as may be necessary." The plain meaning of all this was, that these helpless and ignorant men, having been robbed all their lives of the fruit of their labor by slavery, and being necessarily and in consequence poor, must be punished for it by being robbed again of all they had honestly earned. If they stubbornly continued in their poverty, the like proceeding (of depriving them of the fruits of their labor) "may again be had from time to time, as often as may be necessary." It would, of course, be found "necessary" just as long as the city of Mobile was in need of their labor without paying for it.

It has been abundantly substantiated, by impartial evidence, that when these grievous outrages were committed under the forms of law, by the joint authority of the Alabama Legislature and the city government of Mobile, the labor of thousands of willing men could be hired for the low wages of twenty-five cents per day, with an allowance of a peck of corn-meal and four pounds of bacon for each man per week. It does not change the character of the crime against these humble laborers, but it certainly enhances its degree that the law-makers of Alabama preferred an oppressive fraud to the honest payment of a consideration so small as to be almost nominal. A man must be in abject poverty when he is willing to work an entire week for a sum usually accorded in the Norther States for the labor of one day. But only a community blind to public justice and to public decency as well, could enact a law that in effect declares the poverty of the laborer to be a crime, in consideration of which he shall be deprived of the beggarly mite for which he is willing to give the sweat of his face.