Chapter 22: “Still in Wild Water”: Fall 1863

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Welcome to the Deep Dive.

Today we're really digging into a fascinating period, looking at Abraham Lincoln not just as a president but as, well, a master strategist navigating some incredibly choppy waters.

Picture this if you can.

It's the fall of 1863.

The big battlefield victories like Gettysburg and Vicksburg, they're still echoing.

But there's another fight heating up, quieter maybe, but just as crucial.

It's happening in the political arena.

That's exactly right.

This fight wasn't about military tactics directly.

It was about

public opinion, about morale, about ballots, really not bullets this time.

And the stakes were just enormous, weren't they?

Oh, absolutely.

Despite those Union wins, morale up north was surprisingly shaky.

You had these critical state elections coming up, especially in Ohio and Pennsylvania.

If the anti -war Democrats, the so -called Copperheads, gained ground - That would be devastating.

Exactly.

Would crush the army's spirit, give huge momentum to the Confederacy.

The whole Union project, I mean, it felt like it was hanging by a thread, shaped just as much by votes as by battles.

And Lincoln himself.

The sources say he was visibly unsettled.

Apparently, he told someone his anxiety about these elections was even worse than during his own run in 1860.

Yeah, which tells you something.

So we'll explore how he handled that pressure, and we'll meet some of these key rivals.

These are figures from his own cabinet, the political scene, whose own goals and ideas were constantly swirling around him.

Our mission today, then, is to unpack how Lincoln navigated all this, how he used relationships, clever political moves, and, well, some truly powerful words to keep the Union together and even start redefining what it stood for.

Okay, let's jump right into that first big challenge.

The governor races in Ohio and Pennsylvania.

These were bellwether states, right?

Definitely.

And the Democratic candidates were

quite something.

In Ohio, you had Clement Volandim.

He was a leading Copperhead, that term, for Northerners wanting peace, even if it meant splitting the country and keeping slavery.

He wasn't even in the country.

No, he was campaigning from exile in Canada.

His platform was basically peace at any price.

Lincoln was apparently quite disheartened that the Democrats picked him.

He felt any vote for Volandim was a, quote,

discredit to the country.

Wow.

And Pennsylvania.

There, the candidate was George Woodward, an archly conservative judge.

His view, slavery was a special blessing.

And then, to make things tighter, former General McClellan, still popular, endorsed Woodward.

So Lincoln's facing serious opposition in key states.

What's his play?

He must have learned from the 62 midterms, right?

When the soldier vote wasn't there.

Absolutely.

He learned that lesson the hard way.

This time, he was much more proactive.

For starters, he gave government clerks from Ohio and Pennsylvania 15 days leave, plus free train passes, specifically so they could go home and vote.

Smart.

Getting the reliable votes home.

But the bigger move, definitely, was arranging furloughs for soldiers.

Thousands of soldiers from those states were allowed home to vote.

He was directly tackling that problem of the missing army vote from the previous year.

It shows him really getting into the mechanics of winning.

And then there's Salmon Chase, his treasury secretary.

He wants to go campaign too.

Right.

Chase asks Lincoln for leave to go campaign for the union ticket back in Ohio, his home state.

Now, Lincoln, he wasn't naive.

He knew, absolutely knew, that Chase would use this trip to boost his own chances for the presidency in 64.

Against Lincoln himself.

Exactly.

It was pretty blatant ambition.

But Lincoln, in this really interesting calculation, grants him permission anyway.

He figured Chase's presence, even if self -serving, would ultimately help the union cause win in Ohio.

National need over personal rivalry.

That's quite a gamble.

And Chase's tour sounds like it was, well, quite the production.

Oh, it was.

He even brought a journalist, Whitelaw Reid, to make sure it got plenty of press.

Enormous crowds met him even late at night, cheering, calling him old greenbacks because of the currency he introduced.

So he's soaking up the attention.

Completely.

His speeches were clever.

They, you know, ostensibly praised Lincoln.

But they were laced with these subtle digs, especially about the Emancipation Proclamation's timing.

He'd say it was great, but, you know, should have happened sooner.

Fewer exceptions.

Basically promoting himself.

Like in Cincinnati, right, with the six white horses pulling his carriage.

Yeah, exactly.

A festival -like atmosphere.

Bands playing.

It was Chase building his brand under the guise of helping the union ticket.

Did Lincoln's gamble pay off, though?

Did Chase's campaigning actually help?

It seems it did alongside the soldier vote strategy.

The results were decisive union victories.

Braque crushed Philandaham in Ohio by about 100 ,000 votes.

Curtin won again in Pennsylvania.

How did Lincoln react?

He was ecstatic.

Overjoyed.

He was in the telegraph office when the Ohio news came in.

He apparently wired back, glory to God in the highest, and declared, Ohio has saved the nation.

Stanton, the Secretary of War, sent a similar wire celebrating the Pennsylvania win.

Huge relief, clearly.

But what about the cabinet?

How do they feel about Chase's obvious campaigning?

Well, Lincoln, described as being in good spirits, seemed almost resigned to Chase's ambition.

He had that famous quote about the presidential gnawing, saying, no man knows what that gnawing is till he has had it.

He sort of accepted it.

But not everyone else.

Not at all.

Attorney General Bates was pretty cynical.

He called Chase's trip his opening campaign and mocked him for acting like Cicero, claiming he saved the country with his financial system.

And the Blairs, particularly Montgomery Blair, the postmaster general, were apparently scathing about Chase's maneuvering.

Lincoln's tolerance was pretty unique there.

So while he's managing these very public rivalries and elections, he's also leaning on a different kind of relationship rate with William Seward, his Secretary of State.

Yes.

And that relationship had really transformed.

What started as Seward expected to be president, not Lincoln, had become, by Fall 63, very close and unreserved.

They apparently shared this kind of genial, philosophical outlook and a real love for humor and storytelling.

A deep bond.

There's that great story about Thanksgiving.

Ah, yes.

October 63.

Seward pops over to see Lincoln.

He suggests kind of playfully that they should steal another state right, the power to designate Thanksgiving Day.

Back then, different states celebrated on different days.

And Lincoln liked the idea.

Loved it.

Immediately approved.

He apparently joked that a president had as good a right to thank God as a governor.

Seward draps this proclamation, calling on citizens everywhere in the U .S.

to set apart the last Thursday of November for Thanksgiving and praise, and also, significantly, to heal the wounds of the nation.

That's more than just creating a holiday, isn't it?

Oh, much more.

It's Lincoln, through Seward, finding this unifying gesture amidst the division.

A shared national moment of gratitude.

And those themes of healing, they foreshadow his later speeches, like the second inaugural.

It shows that trust between them.

And Seward was loyal by this point.

He wasn't still eyeing the presidency.

He assured Lincoln his own ambitions were all past and ended.

He genuinely seemed to want Lincoln to be his own successor, believing it was the key to ending the rebellion.

That loyalty must have been a huge source of strength for Lincoln.

There was also a personal connection there, too, with Seward's son, Will.

Right.

Young Will Seward was sick with typhoid, which was a serious concern.

Lincoln actually held Will in high regard.

Earlier, he'd sent him on this incredibly dangerous solo mission, traveling through hostile territory, carrying vital intelligence memorized in his head.

It shows the kind of quiet bravery Lincoln respected, even in his rival -turned -friend's son.

Okay, so Lincoln's juggling state elections,

cabinet rivals, building trust with Seward, establishing national holidays, and then Washington society gets completely swept up in a wedding.

Yes.

The wedding of the season, maybe the decade.

Sam and Chase's daughter, Kate, who is very politically ambitious herself.

Really, her father's key advisor was marrying William Sprague, a young, very wealthy senator and former governor from Rhode Island, a millionaire.

And the press went wild.

Absolutely wild, nonstop gossip.

Was the diamond tiara really worth $50 ,000?

Details about the dress, the trousseau.

For a war -weary public, it was this glittering distraction, you know, a brief escape from all the casualty lists.

But underneath the glamour, there were complicated feelings, right?

Right.

Especially for Chase.

Definitely.

Chase apparently felt torn losing Kate's constant political focus, but also pleased by Sprague's wealth and connections, and Kate's motives.

People debated endlessly.

Was it cold calculation, using Sprague's money to fuel her father's presidential bid?

Or was it love?

She wrote about it differently in her diary.

Exactly.

She described it as a long dream of happiness and love, finding ineffable rest.

But then you have observers like Henry Adams calling her Jephthah's daughter, that biblical story of a daughter sacrificed for her father's vow.

So maybe it was a mix of love and ambition, or maybe ambition was the main driver.

Hard to say definitively.

What was the wedding itself like?

A huge spectacle.

Crowds outside the Chase mansion, inside almost the entire cabinet, except Monty Blair, who pointedly stayed away, plus diplomats, generals.

Lincoln himself showed up, notably unescorted, without Mary.

Why wasn't Mary Lincoln there?

She later cited her health, but there was probably tension there, too.

Maybe disapproval of the lavishness or the political implications?

Kate looked stunning, apparently, in white velvet and the famous tiara.

The Marine Band even played a special march.

And after the wedding,

did it change things politically?

Well, John Haye, Lincoln's secretary, noted Kate seemed softer, less severe.

But more telling, perhaps, as a letter Chase wrote to Sprague soon after.

It's affectionate, but he still manages to slip in commentary, mentioning Kate's anxiety about his political future, and reiterating that, while he wouldn't be hostile to Lincoln, he still felt the country needed a different leader.

Wow.

Even in a thank you note for his daughter's wedding.

The political maneuvering never really stopped, even in these personal moments.

Alright, let's shift from Washington society to a muddy field in Pennsylvania, Gettysburg.

Lincoln's invited to say a few words at the cemetery dedication.

Right.

The main speaker was Edward Everett, a very famous orator, former Harvard president, known for long, elaborate speeches.

Lincoln was just asked for a few appropriate remarks.

And he was nervous about it.

Apparently quite uneasy.

Sources say he felt extremely busy,

hadn't had quiet time to really work on it, and worried he wouldn't live up to expectations.

He even changed his travel plans, decided to leave for Gettysburg a day earlier than planned.

To get more time to write.

Maybe.

Or maybe just to avoid rushing straight into it.

Accounts differ on when he wrote the speech.

Some say he wrote about half before leaving D .C.

Others remember him working on the train, maybe using his hat as a desk or jotting notes.

His secretary Nicolay, though, insisted Lincoln relaxed on the train.

So the exact moment of creation is a bit murky.

Yeah, a bit of historical debate there, but the pressure was definitely on.

When he gets to Gettysburg, there's a crowd, right?

They want a speech.

Yes, a crowd serenades him the night before the ceremony.

But Lincoln comes out and says, Very modestly, I have no speech to make.

In my position, it is sometimes important that I should not say any foolish things.

Kind of deflecting.

Unlike Seward, who also spoke that night.

Right.

Seward gave a longer, well -received speech later at the house where they were staying.

People praised his eloquence.

So the contrast was there.

And then there's that poignant detail about his son, Tad.

Yes.

That evening, while Lincoln was likely finalizing his remarks, he asked for more paper.

A telegram arrived from Secretary Stanton.

It brought welcome news that Tad, who'd been quite ill, was doing better.

That must have been a huge relief.

You have to imagine.

Lifting that personal worry probably freed his mind, allowed him to fully focus on the immense task of the next day's address.

So the ceremony itself, Everett speaks for how long?

Two hours.

A detailed, memorized oration about the battles.

Very classical, very grand.

And then Lincoln gets up.

Yes.

Puts on his glasses, unfolds his paper, and begins.

Four score and seven years ago.

Just instantly iconic.

Instantly.

And in those few minutes, he distills ideas he'd been wrestling with for years.

He connects the war directly back to the Declaration of Independence, to the idea that all men are created equal.

For him, the war was fundamentally about proving self -government wasn't an absurdity.

And that phrase, a new birth of freedom.

So powerful.

Incredibly.

And ending with, government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

He redefined the war's purpose in about 270 words.

What was the reaction right then, though, in the crowd?

Sort of stunned silence, actually.

People were maybe expecting something longer, more traditional after Everett.

The brevity surprised them.

And Lincoln himself.

He apparently turned to his friend, Ward Lamont, and said, Lamont, that speech won't scour.

It is a flat failure.

He thought it bombed.

He genuinely seemed to think so, initially.

But Edward Everett knew better.

The very next day, Everett wrote to Lincoln, saying basically, I wish I could have captured the essence of the day in two hours as well as you did in two minutes.

That's high praise from the main orator.

Exactly.

Everett recognized immediately what Lincoln had done translated the entire meaning of the war and the nation's founding ideals into simple, profound, accessible language.

So Lincoln comes back from Gettysburg, having delivered this, well, immortal speech, even if he didn't know it yet, and walks right into another political fight.

Right back into it.

This time, it's about reconstruction.

How to bring the southern states back into the Union eventually.

The pressure was intense, especially from the radical Republicans in his own party.

Like Senator Chandler.

Yeah, Zachariah Chandler of Michigan.

He wrote Lincoln a pretty aggressive letter, criticizing how the war was run, Lincoln's tardiness on emancipation, and warning him about conservative influences like Seward and Blair, calling them a millstone about your neck.

How did Lincoln take that?

He was uncharacteristically angry in his reply.

You can feel the irritation.

He defended his cabinet, took pride in making his own decisions, and basically told Chandler he wouldn't be pushed too far too fast.

He said, I hope to stand firm enough not to go backward and not go forward fast enough to ruck the country's cause.

A very Lincoln -esque balancing act, but with an edge this time.

And incredibly, he was actually sick while dealing with this.

Yes.

This is amazing.

He was dealing with a mild case of smallpox right around this time.

Very alloyed, they called it.

The illness apparently frayed his self -restraint a bit, which might explain the sharper tone with Chandler.

But not his sense of humor.

Never his humor.

He joked about finally having something he could give to everyone who came to

But the illness did force him into bed rest.

And that quiet time?

It actually allowed him to really focus on drafting his plan for reconstruction, something he called the greatest question ever presented to practical statesmanship.

And that led to the 10 % plan.

Tell us about that.

It surprised people, right?

It really did.

It was Lincoln's Proclamation of Amnesty and Reconstruction, issued in December 63.

The core idea was relatively lenient, aimed at encouraging Southerners to rejoin the Union.

How did it work?

Basically, he offered pardons to most Confederates except high -ranking officials if they swore an oath of loyalty to the Union and accepted emancipation.

Once 10 % of the number of voters from the 1860 election in a given state took that oath, they could reestablish a state government.

10%.

That seems low.

He was deliberately set low to make it achievable, to give loyal Southerners something to rally around.

And it was politically brilliant in how it navigated his own party.

The radicals, who wanted harsher terms and stronger guarantees for freedmen, were actually pleased because emancipation was explicitly required.

It was a cornerstone, as Senator Sumner said.

But the Conservatives were relieved because it wasn't too radical.

It allowed states to keep their names, boundaries, rebuild somewhat familiar structures.

So he found a way to thread the needle between the factions.

Masterfully.

Even Chase, who dissented wanting a constitutional amendment for emancipation, likely to bolster his standing with radicals, couldn't derail the general acceptance.

The plan offered a path forward,

boosted Unionist sentiment in the South, and was a blow to Confederate morale.

Vintage Lincoln political strategy.

Even as he's managing these huge national issues,

the war's personal impact keeps hitting home, doesn't it?

Like with his sister -in -law visiting.

Yes.

A really poignant story.

Emily Todd Helm, Mary Lincoln's half -sister.

Her husband, a Confederate general, had been killed just much before at Chickamauga.

Lincoln himself arranged a pass for her to travel north to the White House.

That must have been incredibly difficult for everyone.

Imagine the grief in that house.

Mary had lost her son Willie the year before.

Emily had just lost her husband.

And both sisters had lost three brothers fighting for the Confederacy.

It's the whole brother -fighting -brother tragedy playing out right in the president's home.

Did they talk about the war?

Mary apparently tried hard to avoid it, showing what the source calls fine tact.

She did share something deeply personal with Emily, though confiding that she felt Willie's spirit visited her, sometimes with his Uncle Alec, Emily's dead husband, promising that the family and the nation would eventually be reunited.

A very intimate, almost spiritual sharing of grief.

But the tension was still there.

There was that incident in the Red Room.

Oh yes.

A very dramatic confrontation.

Mary, despite Lincoln's advice to keep Emily's visit quiet, invited her into a reception with General Dan Sickles, who'd lost a leg at Gettysburg, and Senator Ira Harris.

Not exactly a sympathetic audience for a Confederate widow.

Not at all.

The conversation apparently degenerated rapidly.

Sickles and Harris were likely talking critically about the Confederacy, maybe boasting about Union efforts.

Senator Harris apparently mentioned his sons fighting for the Union.

And Emily snapped back.

She did.

Coldly retorted.

And if I had 20 sons,

they should all be opposing yours.

Just raw, defiant grief and loyalty.

How did Lincoln handle that fallout?

His reaction is so revealing, he apparently heard about it later, his eyes twinkled, and he made a wry joke.

The child has a tongue like the rest of the toads.

Trying to lighten it, perhaps?

Sickles was furious.

Yes.

Sickles apparently confronted Lincoln, bangs the table, demanded, You should not have that rebel in your house.

But Lincoln stood firm, he defended Emily, and more importantly, asserted his right to choose our own guests.

It shows him navigating not just political divisions, but these incredibly painful personal ones, right under his own roof and still holding his ground.

Despite all that intensity, the politics, the war, the family drama, Lincoln somehow kept a sense of humor.

It seems he did.

He still went to the theater, still told his folksy stories.

There's that lovely anecdote about him recounting a dream where he enjoyed saying, The Lord prefers common -looking people.

That is the reason he makes so many of them.

That core humility and humor seemed to have sustained him.

What was the general mood as 1863 came to a close among his cabinet in Washington?

Kind of mixed, but leaning towards hopeful, I'd say.

Seward was hosting lavish parties again.

Attorney General Bates expressed gratitude for his wife's health, despite the sorrow of having a son fighting for the Confederacy.

Gideon Wells felt a bittersweet joy.

And Stanton, the war secretary, seemed newly confident the war would end swiftly, even promising wounded soldiers they'd soon be honored guests of the nation.

And there was that visit to the prison camp,

a sign of things to come.

Yes.

Lincoln and Stanton went to Point Lookout in Maryland, a camp for Confederate prisoners.

They found many rebels there were actually willing to take the loyalty oath and accept emancipation to get pardons.

It was a concrete sign that the 10 % plan might actually work, that there was war weariness in the South they could leverage.

So looking back at the end of 1863,

how had perceptions of Lincoln changed?

Were people starting to see him differently?

Definitely.

There was a profound shift.

Even harsh critics like Count Gorowski, the sort of perpetual grumbler, had to admit the Union's position was much stronger.

Charles Francis Adams, the U .S.

minister in London, who was initially really unimpressed by Lincoln back in 61.

Right, thought he was kind of a country bumpkin.

Exactly.

Adams completely changed his tune by late 63.

He wrote about Lincoln's remarkable leadership, his honesty and fidelity, praising how he'd essentially rebuilt the government and military under immense pressure.

And then there was that James Russell Lowell article.

Ah, yes.

Lowell, a major literary figure, Harvard professor, he wrote this incredibly insightful piece analyzing Lincoln's leadership.

Lincoln apparently read with pleasure, which is saying something.

What did Lowell grasp about Lincoln?

Lowell saw Lincoln's profound common sense, not as a lack of sophistication, but as the best genius for statesmanship.

He used this great metaphor of Lincoln guiding a rather shackly raft through the rapids, always carefully feeling out where the main current was before acting decisively.

So understanding the pulse of the nation.

Precisely.

Lowell praised Lincoln's sure footed understanding of the American people, his impeccable timing on huge issues like emancipation and using black soldiers, things that seemed radical earlier, but Lincoln knew when the moment was right.

And Lincoln, typically humble, just said Lowell gave him overmuch credit.

What an incredible period just looking back at that fall and winter of 1863.

It's intense.

We've seen Lincoln, the politician, the speaker, the commander in chief, also the grieving father, the pressured husband, the man trying to hold it all together.

It really showcases his multifaceted genius, doesn't it?

That blend of shrewd political calculation, deep moral conviction, and this relentless focus on preserving the union while also pushing it towards that new birth of freedom.

His ability to manage all this competing ambitions, to calm down warring factions within his own side and to articulate the stakes so powerfully.

Extraordinary.

So as we wrap up this deep dive, maybe something for you, the listener, to think about.

In our own noisy, complicated times with so many conflicting views, what can we learn from Lincoln's ability to listen, to find that main current, that profound common sense amidst all the chaos?

How might leaders today apply that?

Thank you so much for joining us for this deep dive.

We hope you feel a little more informed, maybe a bit more fascinated by the deep complexities of history and leadership.