CHAPTER 8
FAMILY COUNCIL OF WAR
The clan had been busy on several fronts; time for the first wartime Blair
council of war.
Lizzie no longer had to demand to be included in the political sessions
during these ingatherings at Silver Spring. With her husband, Phillips Lee, at
sea most of the time, she had become her father's confidential secretary,
drafting his most important correspondence and keeping track of the family's
far-flung financial commitments.
When the businessman-son, James, died a decade ago, Father Blair had
prevailed on his widow to raise the grandchildren in a house on the Silver
Spring compound. Lizzie had felt that parental pressure, too, and had resisted
at first, using part of her ten-thousand-dollar stake from her father to build a
house flush up against the Blair house in town on Pennsylvania Avenue. Then
Father gave his original house, so convenient to the Executive Mansion across
the street, to Montgomery, the oldest surviving son, and the parents pro-
ceeded to make Lizzie's house their in-town home.
Lizzie liked that arrangement. The Blair-Lee houses were almost a single
unit, kept from complete amalgamation only by the sniffiness of Montgom-
ery's second wife, and nobody with an interest in the nation's affairs could be
lonely there. It was a lively place; in the front parlor of the Blair house, only a
couple of months ago, Father and General Scott had offered the field com-
mand of the Union Army to Colonel Robert Lee, who turned them down and
went South.
In this council of the clan, around the dining-room table of the great three-
story house, Lizzie sat on the firm wooden arm of the chair of Frank, the
family's favorite. He was a black-mustachioed man, enthusiastic and impetu-
ous and not oppressively intelligent, who had adopted Western ways when he
took charge of family newspapers and businesses in Missouri. Frank was the
politician-son, the most immediately likable of all the Biairs; he was already a
factor in Congress, and was destined by the clan's common consent to be
President one day. Lizzie was pleased that Montgomery, just turned fifty,
who now sat as Postmaster General in Lincoln's Cabinet, never showed the
slightest jealousy at the family's choice of his brother, ten years his junior, to
be the family candidate for Chief Executive. Montgomery, a fine lawyer
whom Lincoln liked to call "the judge," had the intellect, but Frank had the
ability to lead, if he could keep from tripping over his big feet.
To Lizzie's left, in a straight-backed chair directly across the circle from
her husband, sat the woman Washington society called the Lioness. Mother
spoke up, defended her brood against all comers, and counted for much at
family decision time. She had been like a daughter to Henry Clay, co-edited
the Jackson-supporting Globe, and through her extensive family, the Gists,
extended the Blair family influence throughout the South and West. She had
more than doubled her husband's reach; the clan had blood connections
throughout the nation.
"You could have had your head shot off at that arsenal, Frank," Mother
said.
A month before, with nobody's authority, Frank had enlisted a detachment
of troops in St. Louis, appointed himself their leader, and seized the city
arsenal in the name of the Union. This daring act prevented the secession-
minded governor from turning over a great store of arms to the South.
"We had to shoot into the mob," Frank reported proudly, "killed about
twenty, lost only a handful of my men." Lizzie ostentatiously patted him on
the back on behalf of the clan. "That's what the Federal commander should
have done in Baltimore when the mob took over."
"The Baltimore riots called for different handling," Montgomery, whose
base was the state of Maryland, countered. "We had the votes in the state
legislature to defeat secession, so we just kept moving the legislature around,
out to Frederick, so the mob couldn't influence the members. Not as dra-
matic, but it worked."
Frank shrugged. "You're the Cabinet member. I'm not even Speaker of the
House."
"Don't complain," Father said to the younger son. "The speakership had
to go to Pennsylvania. It was part of my deal to make Monty Postmaster
General."
Frank pretended to look put out, then grinned up at Lizzie. "Always glad
to lay down my career for my brother. Which reminds me, Monty, I'm
broke."
"You're worse than that," Montgomery replied, "you're bankrupt. I had to
send an accountant out West to bail you out. How do you lose so much
money on a newspaper?"
"In a good cause," Father interceded. "I don't mind losing money on the
papers for a while, if they promote our cause. Remember those two reporters
Frank hired last year out of Lincoln's law office in Springfield? Nicolay, the
serious one, and the young lady-killer fresh out of the college in Rhode
Island? They're the President's secretaries now, and they owe their start to
the Biairs."
"The word is around Washington, Father," said Frank, "that you're the
one who has Lincoln's ear. True? Were you really the only one to see the
Inaugural Address before he delivered it?"
"Seward and I," his father nodded. "Men who have the destiny of great
nations in their hands never hear the truth; I am trying in this instance to
make Lincoln an exception. I told him he had to put in the part about not
abolishing slavery where it exists. Seward added that folderol at the end about
the better angels of our nature."
"If the Biairs are in so close, Preston," said Mother, "how come Billy
Bowlegs carries so much weight? He's hated all the Biairs from the start."
"That's the way Lincoln operates," the oldest Blair explained. "He bal-
ances forces, keeping us all at each other's throats, so that no faction gets the
upper hand. But don't say that Seward hates us, Eliza. He offered Frank the
vice presidency last year."
Frank looked up sharply, as did Monty. "Seward offered me what?"
Lizzie, alone of the children, knew the secret, and was glad it was out. The
old man relished telling the story.
"You will recall at the Republican convention last year, Seward of New
York was the strongest candidate. Bates of Missouri was second, Lincoln of
Illinois third. The rest was split between Chase of Ohio and Cameron of
Pennysivania."
"And we supported Bates," said Frank impatiently. "We even got Horace
Greeley to desert Seward and swing his support to Bates. We controlled the
Bates support at the convention. I forget why we were so high on Bates."
"Because," Lizzie put in, "only a border-stater like Edward Bates, who was
no abolitionist, could keep the South from seceding. Father was right about
that. When Simon Cameron double-crossed everyone and threw Pennsylvania
to Lincoln, old Abe got the nomination and we've got a war."
"What has that got to do with me and the vice presidency?" Frank, though
not the shrewdest of them, had his eye on the main chance.
"Thurlow Weed came to me on behalf of his longtime partner, William
Seward," said the elder Blair. "As you know, Mr. Weed and I detest each
other, but business is business. In his desperation, after Pennsylvania had
defected to Lincoln, Thurlow Weed offered the vice presidency to you, Frank,
on a Seward ticketif I would deliver the Bates support to Seward on the
next ballot."
"And you turned him down?" asked the youngest son weakly.
"I turned him down, and as a result, Lincoln won the Republican nomina-
tion. With Breckinridge splitting the Democrats, it meant that our decision
put Lincoln where he is today."
"Our decision? This is the first I heard of it." Frank was genuinely put out.
"It would have been unfair of me to put the offer to you at the time. You
would have jumped at it, and Seward would have taken the nomination and
the presidency, with you as his vice president." The elder Blair paused before
making his point: "And William Seward, that damnable weakling and cow-
ard, would have let the Southern states secede." He shot a look at Montgom-
ery. "Am I right about that, Monty?"
"Seward was not prepared to fight to keep the Southern states in the
Union," his older son confirmed. "All his talk years ago of an 'irreconcilable
conflict' was just so much talk. I'll never forget that Cabinet meetingif
Seward had been President when they fired on Surnter, we would be two
nations now."
"I suppose, Father," Frank said gloomily, "we got something at the con-
vention in return for standing fast for Bates and blocking Seward."
"Yes, of course. I traded our refusal to help Seward for a post in the
Lincoln Cabinet for Monty. And for the Blair family's influence in this ad-
ministration."
Monty spoke up. "I really think, Father, that a choice as far-reaching as
that should have been made by all of us. Or at least with the consultation of
the two of us most directly affected. We've been grown men for some time
now, and nobody's puppets, not even yours."
"You're wrong." The Lioness spoke for the first time. "In a clash of your
futures, it's better if your Father decides. That way, the two of you remain
allies."
"Come on, Mother," Lizzie said, "tell them the real reason. Good politics
comes before family sentiment."
Her mother looked at her with surprise, then smiled. "Another reason is
that Frank is the Blair destined to be President. Everything we do, all of us, is
toward that end."
"Then what was wrong with the vice presidency?" Frank asked. "It seems
like a step in the right direction."
"The vice presidency leads nowhere," said the Old Man. "Look at your
cousin John Breckinridgethe vice presidency saddled him with all the mis-
takes of the fool Buchanan. Only Martin Van Buren made it, and that was
despite the vice presidency."
"Sometimes vice presidents succeed to the office," Monty put in mildly.
"Twice in sixteen times," Lizzie said. She remembered when her father had
asked her to look it up; Seward's offer had not been rejected out of hand.
"I don't like those odds," said Francis Preston Blair. "And waiting for
somebody to die is no way for an honorable man to aim for the top. More
important, I wanted to have nothing to do with a deal that would result in the
dismemberment of the Union."
After a silence, Mother said, "I think it might be nice if the boys were to
ratify their father's decision."
Frank broke into a smile. "Fathertell Thurlow Weed to go to hell! I
would rather labor in the vineyards of the Lord, than"
"You'll labor in the United States Army," snapped the Old Man, who,
Lizzie could see, felt better. "We're in a war, such as it is, and the President
after Lincoln is going to be a war hero. A general. That's what you're going
to be, Frank."
The clan chewed that over. After a moment, Frank put forward a problem:
"Fremont. He's a Missourian, a famous soldier, the first candidate of the
Republican Party for President, in fifty-six. They're sure to make him the
commanding general in St. Louis, and you know John Fremonthe thinks
he's God. Where does that leave me?"
"That leaves you in Congress for the time being," his father said, "until the
world can see Fremont making an idiot of himself, like he always does."
"But the war will be over soon."
The Old Man shook his head. "That's what everybody thinks. It's what
Lincoln thinks, he's told me as much, and he's counting on a big victory this
weekend. He thinks the war is about the preservation of the Union, that's all
he talks about. But Lincoln is wrong. The schemers who are taking over his
partyWade, Stevens, Baker, Greeley, the lot of themwill make slavery the
issue. That would push the border states, which are slave states, into South-
ern hands. And all the South will fight to the death against abolition, which
means a long war, maybe two or three years. General Scott agrees with me."
"I disagree." The family's eyes swung to Monty. "I don't think Jeff Davis
speaks for the masses of people in the South. I think a group of conspirators
have got control down there, and as soon as we get into that territory, the
peoplemost of them don't own slaves, you knowthe Southerners will
come over to us. Scott's plan to blockade the South, to seize the Mississippi
and starve them out, is crazy. All it will take is one sharp blow to put down
Davis's band of plunderers."
Father Blair waved at that theory in disgust, causing his wife to say, "He's
the only one here who went to West Point, Preston. Maybe he learned some-
thing there you don't know."
"Wait," Frank said, trying to figure out his plans. "In case Father is right,
and there is a long war, who would win?"
"If the radicals get Lincoln to fight this war over the abolition of slavery,
the South will win." The Old Man had thought it through. "The North will
just get tired and tell the South to take their slavery and go away. But if we
Republicans with enough sense to see that abolition will lose us the warif
we can hold Lincoln to his promise not to interfere with slavery where it
exists, and just to oppose its extension to the Westthen the North will win
and the Union will be saved. The Southerners will get tired of fighting for
slavery out in Kansas so long as they can keep their damn institution at
home."
When this was digested, Frank asked the traditional question: "So what's
the family plan?"
"We've got to beat the radicals in our party so Lincoln can win the war.
You, Frank, will have to undercut Thaddeus Stevens in the House. That mean
old bastardyou know, he lives with a black womanwill be the power
behind the Speaker, and he lives for abolition. I'll make it my job to work on
the Senate, I have Orville Browning there to counter Ben Wade. Maybe I'll
have Breckinridge, too, if Kentucky stays in the Unionwhich it better, or
there's hell to pay."
Lizzie saw Montgomery being quiet, so she said, "The big fight is inside the
Cabinet."
Her brother nodded, eyes closed, as if going around the Cabinet table.
"Attorney General Bates is with us, a border-state man, a Whig, no abolition-
ist. Seward, I don't know"
"Seward will give the appearance of siding with the radicals," said his
father, "to hold his New York constituency and to keep Horace Greeley
quiet. But in a pinch, Billy Bowlegs will be as conservative as any of us."
"Simon Cameron?" Lizzie asked Monty.
"The Secretary of War will go whichever way the wind blows. He seems to
be influenced most by Chase."
"Salmon Portland Chase," said Frank, rolling the name around on his
tongue. "I'll never figure out why a senator from Ohio, with the best chance
of anybody of becoming the next Republican candidate for President, took
the thankless job of Secretary of the Treasury. He's a pompous coot, I know,
but'
"Great dignity," the elder Blair cut him off. "Never underestimate him.
Serious man, wants to be President, thinks he should be President right now,
finds it hard to conceal his contempt for Lincoln. Ohio is shot through with
abolitionism, and Chase will be working with Wade in the Senate to push
every damn radical idea."
"Wade and Chase despise each other personally," Mother explained to
Frank, "like Seward and us. You learn to swallow your dislikes in this world.
What counts is what side you're on."
"I'll keep my eye on Chase," Monty promised. "My Post Office Depart-
ment, by the way, is more than just a good source of the patronage. It's
helpful in keeping track of all sorts of information, holding up certain news-
paper deliveries."
"Not as good as the War Department," said Father. "That controls the
telegraph service. Remember, boys, never send a telegram, even in code, that
you don't want Cameron or Chase to read."
Frank shook his head in wonderment. "We have more enemies on our side
than on the other side."
"Another idea," said the Old Man, rising slowly as the clan council came
to an end. "Anna Carroll will be helpful in learning what Chase is doing. You
remember, she did a lot of writing work for Bates, who can't put a sentence
together. She and Chase are good friends, but she shares an interest with us."
Lizzie presumed that cryptic reference meant that Father had Anna Car-
roll on his payroll somewhere. Lizzie liked Miss Carroll; there was talk about
her having a romantic liaison with Millard Fillmore some years ago, after she
had arranged Know-Nothing support for his attempted comeback, but the
former President had treated her shabbily. Man's world, politics.
"I'll ask her to the Sunday reception, Father."
"You still think we ought to have a big party," Frank cautioned, "with a
battle coming on?"
"The Secretary of War thinks it will be a great way to celebrate the vic-
tory," Monty replied. "Cameron ought to know."