Chapter 3: The Lure of Politics

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Welcome to the Deep Dive.

Today we're actually heading back, way back into 19th century America.

We're going to unpack the really crucial early years of four political giants.

That's right.

We're digging into a key chapter from Doris Kearns Goodwin's fantastic book, Team of Rivals, the Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln.

We'll be focusing on Lincoln, of course, but also his future cabinet rivals, Edward Bates, William Seward, and Sam and Chase.

And our goal here is pretty straightforward.

We want to quickly get you up to speed on how these men climbed the ladder, their early struggles, their big ambitions, and the whole political scene that shaped them.

Yeah, making all that dense history feel a bit more, well, real and engaging.

And what a scene it was.

I mean, 19th century America.

It wasn't like today.

Alexis de Tocqueville, he visited back then, and he was struck by how self -government dominated every level of human association.

Wow.

Every level.

Pretty much.

He said it made politics a consuming, almost universal concern.

Imagine consonant tumult, a confused clamor everywhere from tiny villages right up to Washington.

It sounds exhausting,

but also incredibly vibrant.

Politics wasn't just a civic duty.

It was almost entertainment.

Ralph Waldo Emerson even talked about the lure of politics for ambitious young guys, the appeal of being that successful orator.

Exactly.

And that's the arena where these four figures we're talking about today really started their climb.

Okay.

So let's start with Edward Bates.

He was the oldest of the bunch, right?

He was.

And his political career sort of ignited during that really intense fight over Missouri statehood back in 1820.

Ah, the Missouri compromised territory.

Precisely.

The big question was, did the constitution's protection of slavery apply to these new territories we were acquiring?

It blew up into a national crisis.

I remember reading Thomas Jefferson called it like a fire bell in the night.

Terrifying stuff.

It really was.

There was this proposed amendment and anti -slavery restriction that would have required gradual emancipation in Missouri.

Bates, he was part of this group, the lawyer faction, very strict on the constitution.

He fought hard against that restriction, saw it as violating states' rights.

So how did they resolve it?

Briefly, anyway.

Well, enter Henry Clay, the great pacificator, they called him.

He hammered out the Missouri Compromise of 1820.

Missouri comes in as a slave state.

Maine balances it as a free state.

And crucially, they drew that line, the 36 degrees, 30 minutes parallel, north of that line in the Louisiana Purchase Territory.

No slavery allowed.

Okay.

And Bates was right in the thick of it.

Absolutely.

He helped draft Missouri's constitution, became its first attorney general, right at the center of this huge national fight from the get -go.

His path kind of twisted later, though, and he ended up joining the Whigs.

The Whigs.

Remind us.

Sure.

They were generally for government support for infrastructure roads, canals, protective tariffs to help industry and a national bank.

Got it.

But Bates.

Yeah.

He wasn't exactly Mr.

Ambition, was he?

I read he was really devoted to his family.

Oh, incredibly so.

He married Julia Coulter in 1823.

And get this, they had 17 children.

17?

Wow.

Yeah.

His diaries, they spend decades and they're just filled with stuff about the kids, his garden, life in St.

Louis.

He genuinely seemed to find public office a bit of a burden because it took him away from home.

That's such a contrast to the usual political narrative.

He even wrote about his son, Ben, having a frog -shaped birthmark.

He did.

He had this whole theory about his wife being startled by a frog.

It sounds quaint, but it really shows you his world.

You know, very domestic, very rooted, that deep commitment to home, to St.

Louis.

It's why he was maybe more reluctant than the others to chase national fame.

Like during that awful cholera epidemic in St.

Louis, he stayed put.

Exactly.

Felt it was his sacred duty.

It wasn't about personal gain for him, but that sense of duty did pull him back onto a bigger stage sometime.

You mean the River and Harbor Convention in Chicago?

That's the one.

Late 1840s.

Huge gathering.

Like over 5 ,000 people protesting President Polk's veto of funding for rivers and harbors internal improvements.

And guess who they chose as president of the convention?

Bates.

He was completely astonished apparently, but he handled it skillfully and gave this speech.

He called for moderation and compromise, especially on slavery and expansion.

People were mesmerized.

Was Lincoln there too?

He was.

Still fairly unknown outside Illinois, but he apparently made an impression with a clever argument.

But even after that national moment, Bates basically said, okay, that's enough, and chose, quote, lifelong retirement.

He genuinely seemed happier back home with his family.

Okay.

Let's switch gears to William Seward in New York.

He got into politics too, but kind of drifted into it.

Yeah, he tried law for a few years, wasn't really feeling it.

He realized that politics, well, that was the important and engrossing business of the country.

That's where the action was.

And he found a key ally pretty early on, right?

Thurlow Weed.

Oh, Thurlow Weed.

What a character.

Newspaper editor, phenomenal memory, total political operator.

Weed became Seward's mentor, his magician, his dictator in New York politics.

He started the Albany Evening Journal, the main rig newspaper, and basically got Seward elected to the state Senate when he was just 29.

Youngest guy there.

So it was more than just politics between them.

Definitely.

They loved theater, read Dickens and Scott together, a real partnership built on shared ambition, yeah, but also genuine friendship.

Seward's personal life seems pretty intense too.

That whole situation with Senator Tracy and Seward's wife, Frances.

Right.

It got complicated.

Seward had this very close friendship with Tracy, almost a foolish fondness, the book says.

But then Tracy developed this emotional intimacy with Frances Seward, who felt kind of neglected by her ambitious husband.

Awkward.

How did Seward handle that?

Like the consummate politician he was, managed to cool things with Tracy without making a huge scene or burning bridges.

But these pressures, personal and political, took a toll.

He lost his first run for governor in 1834 and got pretty down about it.

He wrote that letter to Frances calling ambition a demon.

Exactly.

Reaffirming that her love was the chief good in his life.

It seems like that setback, that period of reflection really mattered.

And then came that trip south in 1835.

That sounded like a turning point.

Hugely transformative.

He saw firsthand the, quote, curse of slavery, the poverty, the neglect, the economic stagnation, and Frances.

She was deeply affected.

She wrote about seeing an old, blind, enslaved woman in this horrifying image of 10 naked little boys tied together heading to auction.

Oh, awful.

It solidified their hostility to slavery.

Then, oddly enough, the financial panic of 1837 actually helped the Whigs.

Seward, with Weed and another key player, Horace Greeley of the New York Tribune, managed to broaden the party's appeal.

And he won the governorship the second time around.

He did in 1838.

And his inaugural address in 39 laid out this incredibly ambitious plan, expanding public schools, including for black children, building canals and railways, treating the mentally ill more humanely, ending betters prisons.

Sounds pretty progressive for the time, but controversial, too.

The Catholic schools thing.

Oh, yeah.

Proposing state support for parochial schools for Irish and German immigrants, it caused a huge backlash from nativist Protestants, accused him of being in league with the pope.

That haunted him later when he aimed for the presidency.

And the Virginia case.

Yeah.

Refusing to extradite those black seamen.

That really put him on the map nationally as anti -slavery.

He flat out argued that people were not property, took a very strong stand, pushed for New York's own anti -slavery laws.

Which brings us to that really dramatic William Freeman trial in 1846.

A really tough case.

Freeman, a black man, clearly disturbed, later found to be deaf, and likely mentally ill, committed this awful massacre.

Public outrage was immense.

No lawyer wanted to touch it.

But Seward stepped in.

He did.

Famously declared, I shall remain counsel for the prisoner until his death.

He faced huge criticism, but his wife, Frances, stood by him.

His closing argument was apparently incredible, pleading not to judge by skin color, arguing Freeman was a maniac, not a malefactor.

And he mentioned his epitaph.

He was faithful.

He did.

Wish that would be on his tombstone.

And you know what?

It is.

That defense, that courage, it won him national respect.

Even Salmon Chase, who we'll get to, called him one of the very first public men of our country.

Okay, let's pivot to the man himself, Abraham Lincoln.

Humble beginnings, but big dreams from the start.

Absolutely.

Drawn to politics at just 23.

Can you imagine?

Barely settled in New Salem, Illinois, and he's running for state legislature, saying he wants to be truly esteemed of his fellow men.

Did he win that first time?

No, he actually lost.

But he got huge support right there in his local area.

Two years later, 1834, he won and then got reelected through more times.

What was he like back then?

People remembered his stories fresh and sparkling, how they'd light up his normally kind of sad face.

He had this amazing laugh.

And he was a master of grassroots politics, campaigning on horseback across these wide open prairies, knowing how to connect.

There's a great story about him joining a cannonball throwing contest just to win votes at one guy's store.

Whatever it takes.

Pretty much.

And he was meticulous about organizing his 1840 campaign plan.

It was incredibly detailed, dividing up districts, identifying voters, making sure every single Whig vote got counted.

Real nuts and bolts stuff.

Then he moved to Springfield, became part of that scene.

Yeah, in 1837.

Quickly became the center of this informal social club at his friend Joshua Speed's store.

Hanging out, telling stories, debating with guys who'd become future allies and rivals like Stephen Douglas.

And his political ideas were pretty straightforward back then.

The old woman's dance.

Ah, yeah, that was his phrase.

Basically three things.

National bank, protective tariff, and internal improvements.

Roads, rivers, railways.

He really believed in that last one.

Because of his flatboat experience.

Exactly.

He knew firsthand how important good transportation was.

He remembered the thrill of his first dollar from that work.

He believed economic development give everyone that unfettered start and a fair chance in the race of life.

He wanted to be the DeWitt Clinton of Illinois, the guy who built things.

And what about slavery?

Where did he stand early on?

He made his first public statement in 1837.

Illinois legislature was passing all these pro slavery resolutions.

Lincoln was one of only six guys who voted no.

He put out a statement saying slavery was founded on both injustice and bad policy.

But he acknowledged limits on Congress.

Right.

He respected the Constitution, believed Congress couldn't just abolish slavery in states where it existed.

But he strongly affirmed Congress did have power over federal territories, like Washington, D .C.

His core belief even then was clear.

If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong.

But things weren't always smooth sailing for him, personally or politically.

That internal improvements plan in Illinois kind of crashed.

Yeah, the Panic of 1837 hit Illinois hard.

Their big infrastructure plan collapsed and it really damaged Lincoln's reputation for a while.

He even planned to quit the legislature.

And his love life was complicated.

Oh, definitely.

He seems to have been pretty awkward with women despite being so engaging publicly.

There was that bizarre courtship with Mary Owens where his proposal letter basically warned her off.

She wisely declined.

And then Mary Todd, very different.

Very different, lively, smart, politically savvy herself.

They connected over poetry and politics.

But even that was rocky.

He got engaged, then had serious doubts, maybe an infatuation with someone else, maybe fear that marriage would derail his ambition.

The law is a jealous mistress, you know.

He broke the engagement.

He tried to, twice.

The second time, it completely devastated him, plunged him into this incredibly deep depression in the winter of 1841.

The most miserable man living, period.

That's what he called himself.

It was serious.

Friends called it hypochondriasm.

They literally took razors away, worried he might take his own life.

He told Speed he felt he'd done nothing to make any human being remember that he had lived.

Wow.

How did he pull out of that?

Partly, it seems, that very desire to be remembered, to engrave his name in history.

That became his driving force.

And interestingly, that period of suffering seemed to deepen his empathy.

He was always sensitive, couldn't stand cruelty to animals, famously rescued a pig once.

That sensitivity became this amazing political tool later on, understanding opponents.

And humor helped him cope.

Immensely.

People noted the contrast between his deep melancholy and his incredible sense of humor.

He used jokes, stories,

to whistle off sadness, as one friend put it.

Laughed so he wouldn't weep.

A really healthy way to adapt, actually.

So how did he get back on track?

And back with Mary?

Staying busy helped.

Visiting Speed in Kentucky, he gave this great speech on temperance in 1842.

And then friends kind of conspired to get him and Mary back together.

He helped Speed sort out his own romantic doubts, and in doing so, seemed to figure out his own feelings.

Realized maybe earthly happiness was possible, after all.

And they got married.

They did.

November 4, 1842.

Early marriage wasn't easy, especially for Mary, who wasn't used to the chores.

But the arrival of their sons, Robert and Eddie, brought a lot of joy.

Lincoln was apparently a very indulgent dad, wanted them to be free, happy, and unrestrained.

And his political ambition came roaring back, aiming for Congress.

He went about it methodically.

Lobbying newspapers, pressuring friends, making quiet trips through counties.

Used a turnabout -is -fair -play argument for rotating terms to cleverly outmaneuver a rival, John Harden, and finally won his seat in Congress.

Okay, last but not least, Sam and Chase.

He seems like he took a completely different route into politics.

Initially quite skeptical.

Very different.

Initially wary of all the party fighting, he even said, I'm not a politician.

His path was much more driven by moral conviction in the law, especially around slavery.

What was the catalyst for him?

A dramatic event in Cincinnati in 1836.

A mob attacked the press of James G.

Burnie, an anti -slavery publisher.

Chase was horrified.

He actually ran to warn Burnie, and physically stood in the doorway of Burnie's hotel, telling the mob, Sam and P.

Chase, I can be found at any time.

Wow, confronting the mob directly.

Made him an instant hero in the anti -slavery movement.

Then, the next year, the Matilda case.

He defended an enslaved woman brought into Ohio, arguing the Northwest Ordinance of 1787 made her free the moment she set foot in the state.

Did he win?

No, he lost the case.

But his legal arguments were printed up, circulated, and gained him a lot of respect, especially among Northern intellectuals.

His whole approach was different from, say, radical abolitionists like William Lloyd Garrison.

Chase based everything on history, the Constitution, the law.

He believed you had to work through the system,

politics, government, courts to end slavery.

But the main parties weren't exactly welcoming.

Not at first.

The Whigs rejected him because he was too openly abolitionist.

So, in 1841, he joined the brand new Small Liberty Party.

Just an abolitionist party.

Primarily.

But Chase wanted to make it bigger, broader.

He argued they should focus on stopping slavery's expansion to federal territories, D .C., the West, and not interfere where it already existed in the states.

He even tried to recruit bigger names like Seward to join.

How did Seward respond to that?

Seward, despite his own feelings about slavery, felt he had to stick with the Whigs, work from within.

Chase saw it differently.

For him, the cause of abolition was more important than loyalty to any particular party.

He thought the party could eventually push one of the major parties, maybe even the Democrats, on some economic issues towards an anti -slavery stance.

Slavery was always the bottom line for him.

And his legal work continued, earning him that nickname.

Attorney General for the Negro.

Yes.

He took on numerous fugitive slave cases, usually for free.

The most famous was probably the Van Zandt case in 1842.

Van Zandt was an Ohio farmer who helped fugitive slaves.

He actually inspired a character in Uncle Tom's cabin.

And Chase challenged the Fugitive Slave Act itself?

Directly.

Argued the 1793 Act was unconstitutional, said fugitives were persons, not property, under the Constitution, and became free once they entered a free state.

Slavery, he argued, was purely a state creation.

It couldn't exist legally beyond the state that allowed it.

Did he win that one?

No, he lost again, ultimately.

But those arguments, they became absolute pillars for the anti -slavery movement and future political parties.

He appealed to the Supreme Court, actually got Seward to join him as co -counsel.

Seward praised his chaste and beautiful eloquence.

So he was building a national reputation through the courts.

Absolutely.

In 1845, the black community in Cincinnati honored him, gave him this beautiful engraved silver picture for his work.

He pledged right then to keep fighting until every vestige of oppression shall be erased.

It sounds like he was maybe a bit intense, hard to get close to.

Yeah, the book suggests he was reserved, didn't have much of a sense of humor, found it hard to make casual friends.

But he did form a really deep bond with another lawyer, Edwin M.

Stanton.

Stanton, later Secretary of War for Lincoln.

The very same.

They bonded over shared personal tragedies in the mid -1840s.

Stanton also hated slavery, swore eternal hostility to it as a kid.

He thought about joining the Liberty Party, but worried about the financial sacrifice.

And Chase gave him hard time about that.

Oh, yeah.

Chase apparently chastised him pretty strongly for putting personal concerns ahead of the Great Cause, principle over everything for Chase.

But they stayed friends.

They did.

Stanton really valued the friendship and both men hoped they'd eventually be fighting side by side against slavery.

It shows how these personal connections mattered, even across political differences.

So as we get towards the end of the 1840s, let's say 1847, we have these four men.

Bates, Seward, Lincoln, Chase,

all gaining prominence, all wrestling with the biggest issue of the day,

slavery, but from really different perspectives.

Exactly.

Bates, the reluctant statesman anchored in Missouri compromise.

Seward, the pragmatic New York reformer pushing boundaries.

Lincoln, the self -made Illinoisan mastering grassroots politics while battling his own demons.

And Chase, the principled Ohio lawyer using the courts as his weapon.

Each with growing renown, though, Lincoln was still the least known nationally and setting the stage for the incredible drama to come.

So we've just walked through these incredible and sometimes really surprising early paths of Bates, Seward, Lincoln, and Chase.

It's fascinating how their formative years played out.

Absolutely.

You see Bates, whose deep personal values kind of shaped his hesitant public service, then Seward, evolving morally through experience, becoming this strategic reformer.

And Lincoln,

fighting those inner battles while methodically climbing the political ladder in Illinois.

And Chase, just unwavering in his legal and moral crusade against slavery.

Right.

It's this rich mix of personal stories, political maneuvering, ambition, principle, all playing out against that backdrop of 19th century America.

And it really strikes you how those early experiences, the crises, the family stuff, the ideological fights, who they allied with, they weren't just background noise.

Not at all.

That was the crucible, you know, where these leaders were actually forged, moral growth, how they learned to build coalitions, the political strategies they started developing back then.

It was all essential preparation for what came later.

It makes you think, doesn't it?

Here's a thought to leave you with.

How did those early setbacks, the heartbreaks, the small local wins things, maybe they didn't even talk about much later.

How did that actually equip them for the absolutely immense, almost unimaginable task of leading a nation tearing itself apart?

It's a powerful question.

Maybe it makes you wonder too, how might your own early struggles, your triumphs, even the things you kind of keep hidden, how might they be shaping you for a future you can't even see yet?

Something to ponder.

Well, thank you so much for joining us on this deep dive into the foundational years of Lincoln's team of rivals.

We hope you feel a little more well informed, maybe a bit inspired and ready to keep exploring those deep currents of history.