“So seriously do I estimate those evils,” Anderson stated, “that
if all other causes of war against the establishment and recognition
of the Southern Confederacy of slave states could be obviated and
removed, I do really think that these dangers from having our land
converted into a vast Cloaca Maxima [sewer] for their overflowing
filth, would constitute a just and sufficient cause to war, to the end
of the century.” Many people thought the same way but precious few
Union or Republican politicians dared to speak such words in a
public forum. Anderson was a powerful orator and could be as vicious
as a pit bull when the occasion demanded such vitriol. In politics,
however, he was loose cannon.
Anderson’s speech lasted less than an hour. Despite its controversial
ending, he received universal praise from those in attendance. Lincoln
shook Anderson’s hand and congratulated him on his fine effort.
Seward agreed. Brough and Anderson left with the presidential party
on the 6:30 p.m. train to Washington. The Ohio delegation passed a
resolution of thanks for the colonel’s “able and eloquent” address and
requested that he publish it for posterity. Excerpts of the speech
appeared in a few newspapers, such as the
Cincinnati Commercial
and
the
Springfield Republican
, but the entire speech was never printed.
The explanation of S. A. Hines, editor of the
Cincinnati Gazette
,
was typical. The Everett speech had taken up so much space that it
left little room for Anderson’s words. When Anderson looked for the
manuscript thirty years later, he could not find it.
The three addresses at Gettysburg were not a random collection of
individual orations. They were a carefully planned and constructed
ensemble designed to accomplish different yet complimentary
purposes. Each speaker intended to eulogize to some degree. Everett’s
style was deliberate. He sought to educate his audience. Lincoln was
inspirational. He intended to elevate the war to a higher moral plane.
Anderson was provocative. His address was designed to motivate,
even agitate the crowd to support a vigorous prosecution of the war.
Lincoln’s words entered the canon of American scripture where they
remained, timeless and permanent. Everett’s speech was printed and
then largely forgotten. Anderson’s oration had an even shorter
exposure, disappearing from sight immediately and remaining buried for
nearly 150 years.
O
N THE TRAIN FROM DAYTON
to Columbus in January
1864, just two months after his speech at Gettysburg,
Charles Anderson reflected on his future. He was about to
assume one of the most meaningless jobs in government.
The
lieutenant governor-elect had responded to the call of duty in yet
another critical hour of his beloved, fragile Union. He planned to serve
his term, assist the new governor in sustaining the war effort, and
enjoy time with old friends and rivals in the state legislature. A Union
military victory appeared inevitable. Anderson wanted to use this
interlude to prepare for the next chapter in his life. He had no idea
where that road might lead.
Anderson gave a brief, reserved address to the Ohio state
legislature at the inaugural ceremonies, occupied his new office, and went
to work. He found the administrative workload stifling. His lack of
any real authority made the job mundane and trivial. John Brough
was busy raising an additional thirty thousand volunteers in reply to
President Lincoln’s request for more troops. Anderson was relegated
to menial tasks. He relieved his boredom frequently at his brother
Larz’s house in Cincinnati. He spent an entire day there dressed in
full theatrical costume, channeling the lead character for a local
production of Macbeth. After several agonizing months in a job he
detested, Anderson wondered what he was supposed to do next. Union
Party bosses had their own ideas.
1
Despite his previous pronouncements,
Governor Brough fell in
line to support Lincoln’s reelection bid. He had expressed differences
with the president for many years, but the war persisted, and he was
determined to stand behind the commander in chief. His lieutenant
governor, on the other hand, had a long record of political
independence and would not kowtow to the leader of any party. Anderson
was aghast when the radical abolitionists co-opted the president’s
agenda and turned a war for the salvation of the Union into a war to
free the slaves. The ramifications of this growing crusade were vast.
Many working-class Americans recoiled at the thought that their
sons and brothers were dying to free the Negro. Once the war was
over, many feared that a veritable flood of newly freed slaves would
leave the devastated South and invade the industrial North, bringing
with them a debased standard of morality and competing with whites
for work. Americans had also grown weary of a war where the result
seemed decided, but there was no immediate end in sight.
2
Anderson worried about what the postwar nation would be like.
Divisions in the country and even in his own party made Lincoln’s
reelection, perhaps even his renomination, appear doubtful. Radicals
like New York newspaper editor
Horace Greeley were not satisfied
with the president’s moderate stances on abolition and reconstruction
and called for an alternate Republican candidate. Lincoln’s own
secretary of the treasury,
Salmon P. Chase, plotted to become the
nominee. In April the U.S. Senate passed the Thirteenth Amendment
abolishing slavery in the United States and areas under its control. Lincoln
was eventually nominated in early June. The Democrats responded in
August by selecting
General George McClellan, who had been
relieved of his command by Lincoln earlier in the war. Resurfacing at
the Democratic convention in Chicago was none other than
Clement
Vallandigham, who gave the keynote address and drafted the party
platform. Lincoln ignored Vallandigham’s illegal repatriation rather
than stir up the expelled Democrat’s most ardent supporters.
3
Indiana governor
Oliver P. Morton and Ohio Union Party leader
Godwin V. Dorsey reached out to Anderson in August, asking him
to join Governor Brough in stumping for Lincoln in their states.
Anderson refused. He was not satisfied with either candidate. “As
for Mr. Lincoln,” he predicted, “he might well attempt to row up the
Niagara Chute in a particularly frail birch bark canoe, with a
particularly weak feather for a paddle, as to talk about abolishing slavery
as a condition for reunion.” Lincoln’s “personal facility in changing
course to every last wind” was troubling to Anderson. “It is a cruel
duty to declare against my own political friends,” the lieutenant
governor declared, “but it is my duty.”
4
Anderson underestimated Lincoln’s political genius and paddling
ability.
McClellan unwittingly helped the president’s cause by
refusing to accept the portion of the Democratic platform that represented
the war as a failure, thus splitting with the Copperhead faction of the
party. But Northern morale was sinking. Lincoln himself told a
soldier in late August: “I am going to be beaten, and unless some great
change takes place,
badly
beaten.” While Lincoln and his cabinet
laid plans to cooperate with the incoming administration, great news
arrived on the telegraph. General
Sherman had taken Atlanta on
September 2. Everyone on both sides of the great conflict knew what
that meant. The way was now clear for the Union Army to march
virtually unmolested to Savannah and eventually to South Carolina.
Sherman was feted in cities across the North as the greatest general
of the century. Even the
Richmond Examiner
admitted that the fall
of Atlanta had come just in time to “save the party of Lincoln from
irretrievable ruin.” Two months later. Lincoln won in a landslide.
5
Anderson was in an awkward position. Peace Democrats despised
him. War Democrats merely tolerated him. Republicans felt betrayed
by him. His legendary political independence was wearing thin with
all but a few loyal friends. Anderson was still respected for his
intellectual prowess, his oratorical skills, and his unimpeachable
integrity. On the other hand, he was increasingly seen as inflexible and
dogmatic in his own extreme brand of Unionism. He was a political
liability. Anderson was certain that he was right. Surely the political
power brokers and the people of Ohio would see the truth of his
opinions and come to think as he did. In case they did not, however,
Anderson began to lay plans for a possible retirement elsewhere.
In January 1865, Larz’s eldest son, Richard Clough Anderson,
negotiated the purchase of a large tract of iron mining lands in Lyon
County, Kentucky. Charles Anderson imagined he could eventually
enjoy a quiet life filled with “intelligent society, books, and
agricultural pursuits,” back home in his native state. He needed to defer this
dream for at least another year, as his term did not expire until early
1866. Besides, there might be other opportunities coming his way. If
he could just get the right people to sponsor him for that long coveted
foreign ministry assignment, or even high political office, he might
still have a career in politics. Ohio’s lieutenant governor was an
unusual talent and still had dozens of powerful allies.
6
A gracious way to escape the tedium of the lieutenant
governorship and fulfill a lifelong ambition was to make yet another attempt
to secure a
foreign diplomatic post. Anderson went after this goal
in earnest. One position that he especially desired was minister to
Spain, which had been open since
Gustav Koerner had resigned in
July 1864. Koerner could not reconcile his minuscule salary with
the heavy financial obligations at the Spanish court. Anderson
conducted a furious letter-writing campaign, enlisting postmaster
general
William Dennison, a former governor of Ohio, as well as
Thomas
Corwin, late minister to Mexico, in the effort. Attorney general
James Speed, a boyhood pal, and judge advocate general
Joseph Holt
jumped on the bandwagon. Speed wrote that he had seen Secretary
of State Seward on Anderson’s behalf, but that the few available
positions were already spoken for. Ohio congressman
Rutherford B.
Hayes told Anderson that he would urge Lincoln to find a post for
him. A last ditch effort by another faithful friend, Ohio senator
John
Sherman, took the matter directly to the president, but Lincoln
refused to countermand Seward’s intentions. Three days later, Lincoln
appointed
Senator John Parker Hale of New Hampshire to the post.
Anderson could hardly argue that selection, as Hale was an
accomplished politician and former Free Soil candidate for president.
He was also the father of the beautiful Lucy Lambert Hale, who
was secretly engaged to a famous actor named John Wilkes Booth.
Dennison and Sherman went to see Seward together three days after
the Hale appointment, but the secretary claimed there were no
vacancies. Anderson, in his zeal for a plum foreign assignment, just
could not take a hint.
7
Four days after General Lee’s surrender on April 9, 1865,
Anderson
and his brother Robert attended a ceremony to restore the American
flag at Fort Sumter, where Robert had surrendered his command
after a gallant stand exactly four years earlier. The event was
planned shortly after Sherman had captured Charleston in February.
Hundreds of ebullient dignitaries were on scene. With the war over,
there were several reasons to celebrate. Robert raised the banner that
one of his sergeants had risked his life to keep flying during the
bombardment. It was hard to tell what was most battered: the cherished
flag, torn and tattered by shrapnel, or Robert Anderson himself,
broken and worn-out from defending his country in numerous wars. As
the remnant flag stiffened in the breeze, cheers arose from the
spectators while cannons on island and shore boomed a victory salute. The
crowd had no way of knowing that back in Washington, shortly after
the Sumter flag was restored, the man who bore the weight of more
than six hundred thousand dead on his conscience had entered Ford’s
Theatre for his own appointment with bloody destiny.
8
The stunned North collapsed into mourning at the news of
Lincoln’s
assassination. Governors and municipal leaders planned the largest
funeral train in U.S. history, passing through seven states to Lincoln’s
final resting place in Springfield, Illinois. Governors Brough, Morton
of Indiana, and Stone of Iowa accompanied the body on its
twelve-day, 1,654-mile journey. William G. Deschler, chairman of the
ceremonies at Columbus, offered Anderson the honor of delivering the
eulogy to the slain president. He declined. Although he and Lincoln
had not always been on the best of terms, Anderson would soon
realize that the untimely death of Abraham Lincoln was a great tragedy
for the South, as Lincoln’s own scheme for conciliatory
reconstruction died with him.
9
It was business as usual at first.
President Andrew Johnson
delivered an amnesty proclamation on May 29, signaling his intention to
honor Lincoln’s plans and place control of Southern political affairs
back in the hands of those who had wielded power before the war.
With the conflict over, Republicans and Democrats had much less to
squabble about. Even
Vallandigham suggested that the Democrats
should get behind the new president’s reconstruction plans to help
heal the nation’s gaping wounds. He accepted the fact that slavery
was dead. The issue climbing to the forefront of political debate,
however, was the political status of black Americans, in both the
North and the South. Should they be allowed to vote and become
full citizens? This issue, Vallandigham declared, should be settled by
each state. He was speaking not only for the Democrats but for an
overwhelming majority of whites, including Anderson, who held that
same opinion.