“I will speak to you of the importance of representative government, of the necessity of freedom of discussion. I am opposed to uneducated democracy, as I am sure you all are. These are abstractions that must never be forgotten, goals that must be achieved. But your first goal must be economic strength. You will win this military war. You will find it harder to win the peace, to win the economic war that must follow.”
Stanton’s brow was furrowed. “Do you speak in riddles?” he asked.
“Not at all. When you fought this war against the British you also fought a war against the British Empire. Have you ever looked at a map of this Empire, where the countries that sustain it are marked in pink? That map is pink, gentleman, and it is pink right around the world. There is a 25,000 mile circuit of the world where the British flag flies. The pink covers one-fifth of the Earth’s surface, and Queen Victoria rules one-quarter of the world’s population. The Empire is strong so you must be stronger. I know my countrymen and I know they will not suffer a defeat of the nature that you have forced upon them. I do not know what action they will take, but they will be back. So you must be prepared. The easy days in the South are at an end — although I realize that much of the way of the South is a myth and her people actually labor well and long. Your land is rich and your people, North and South, know the meaning of work. But the South must be just as industrialized as is the North. Subsistence farming does not make a country rich. The South must produce more than cotton to add to the national wealth. If you have the will you have the means. There is wealth in the soil, wealth to feed all of this country’s citizens. Wealth as well in iron, copper, gold.
“You must take this wealth and build a strong America. You can do this if you have the will. Seize the opportunity and lead the world by your example. The people of oppressed countries will see in you a glowing example of representative government. And, as my dear wife and daughter have pointed out to me, half of the citizens of the world are women. I owe much to them. Whoever, either now or hereafter, may think of me and the work I have done, must never forget that it is the product not of one intellect and conscience, but of three. Therefore you must one day consider the cause of universal franchisement.”
“Would you make that clearer?” Salmon Chase rumbled. “I do not understand your meaning.”
“Then I will elucidate. All here must surely believe in the bond that unites man and woman. Marriage is an institution that unites both sexes equally. For one cannot exist without the other. Women of intellect can match their male counterparts. They are equal before the law. They can own property. But in one thing they are unequal. They cannot vote.”
“Nor shall they ever!” Edward Bates called out.
“Why not, may I ask?” Mill said calmly.
“The reasons are well known. Their physical inferiority to men. Their nerves, their inconsistency.”
Mill would not be moved. “I feel that you belittle them, sir. But I do not wish argument now. I simply say that one day universal enfranchisement must be considered if this country is to be a true democracy representing all of its citizens. Not right now, but the issue cannot be avoided forever.”
“In the South we hold our women in great esteem,” Judah P. Benjamin said. “Though I hesitate to say that allowing them to vote would affect that esteem in a negative manner. And if one follows your logic to the very end — why you will next be thinking of allowing the Negro to vote?”
“Yes. In the long run the ideal universal suffrage must be taken under consideration as well. To be truly free a man must be sure that others are free. When others are chattels, either women or Negroes or any other group, then freedom is not complete. A true democracy extends freedom to all of its members.”
He paused for breath and touched his kerchief to his lips. Before he could continue there was a discreet knock at the door and secretary Hay entered.
“President Lincoln, members of the Cabinet, please forgive this interruption. But I know that you will want to hear the contents of this telegram.” He lifted it and read.
“Quebec is taken, the enemy is routed. Signed, General Sherman.”
In the silence that followed the President’s quiet words were clearly heard by all present.
“It is over then. The war is won.”
A UNION TRIUMPH
Oh the sound of it! Oh the glory of it!
Men shouted, children shrieked, churchbells rang on every side. People cheered themselves hoarse, then croaked on, happily unaware.
Victory shouted aloud, cried aloud, sung aloud. The British power broken with the fall of Quebec. The streets filled as the word was passed. Victory! The day, which had started damp and cold, turned warm with the warmth of victory, shone with the sun of success.
The crowds gathered outside the White House, calling loudly for the President.
“I must go out and talk to them, Mary,” Lincoln said.
“Not in that old wrinkled black suit, not on this day of jubilee.”
She prevailed upon the President to put aside his soiled and rusty black suit for at least this one day. The new suit was black swallow-tailed and made of the finest broadcloth, his linen shirt white and crisp, his foulard the finest silk from Paris.
“I am so proud of you, Father,” Mary said, clasping her hands and smiling. He returned her smile, pleased to see it there, for she had rarely smiled since Willie’s death. She had also abandoned her black garb, at least for this day, and was wearing a white silk ball dress decorated with hundreds of small black flowers.
They went hand in hand to the balcony and the crowd roared its approval. There was nothing he could say: if he spoke none could possibly hear. But they waved and smiled until, after some minutes, they felt the chill. Also the first of many carriages was coming up the drive as they went inside.
The Cabinet members had found their way to the Green Room, where they were joined by a troop of senior Senators from the Hill. The walls echoed with the sounds of mutual admiration and good cheer. Hay pushed his way through and caught Lincoln’s eye.
“It’s the Russian Ambassador.”
“The baron with the unpronounceable name?”
“Yes, sir. Baron Stoeckl. He wants to offer his congratulations.”
“After what the British did to the Russians in Crimea I imagine he does.”
The baron was elegantly garbed and bore a soup plate-sized golden decoration around his neck. He seized Lincoln’s hand and worked it like a pump handle, so strenuously did he do this that his wig threatened to be displaced.
“May I extend my congratulations, Mr. President, my heartiest congratulations on your victory in the field of battle.” He stepped aside and indicated the elegantly garbed military man behind him. “May I introduce you to Admiral Paul S. Makhimov who is here with flagship, a coincidental but wonderfully timed visit.”
The admiral had a calloused hand and a firm grip, but a limited command of English. “You sink the sheeps, I sink Angleski sheep. Da!”
“The admiral is referring to his victories at sea during the last war.”
Lincoln extracted his hand with some difficulty and nodded agreement. “We have indeed sunk a great number of ships.”
A touch on his arm drew him away. “Mrs. Lincoln would like you to join her in welcoming the guests,” Nicolay said.
As more and more well-wishers crowded into the White House an impromptu reception line was being formed. Lincoln greeted them all with a quick word or two and a handshake. Mary, who did not relish the thought of touching so many people, held a bouquet before her in her folded hands. Nodded and smiled.