Burlington, July 29, 1862.
I have now been at home ten days. Permit me to tell you what
conclusions I have reached from my intercourse with the people of Iowa.
The people are far in advance of the Administration and of
Congress in their desire for a vigorous prosecution of the war. They are
unanimous for the confiscation bill, and execrate every man who opposed its
passage, or who now opposes its stringent execution. There is but little
disposition to enlist until it is known what the course of the Administration
is to be on this subject.
I need not tell you that the expressions of confidence in
the management of the President, his prudence, sagacity, etc., are in a measure
enforced, and proceed from the confessed necessity of supporting him as the
only tangible head of the loyal Government, and not from any real confidence in
his wisdom. Rely upon it, if things drift along as at present, no volunteers
will take the field, and the tax law will become so odious that it will require
a larger army to enforce it than to put down the rebellion. Sixty days will
determine whether we are longer to have a Government, and the Administration
must decide it. It is folly to disregard the sentiment of the country in such a
time as this — it is worse; it is wickedness. Either Mr. Lincoln disregards it,
or else he willfully keeps himself in ignorance of it. Good men, the best we
have, are beginning to utter expressions of despair; and they are not cowed by
fear of the strength of the enemy, but by apparent weakness of our friends. I
beg you not to be misled by the proceedings of war-meetings in our large towns.
Volunteers will come when a “war policy” is declared and acted upon, and not to
any considerable extent before. Speeches and resolutions will not bring them.
I thought I comprehended somewhat the popular sentiment before
I left Washington. In this I was mistaken. It is far more ardent and extreme
than even I ever supposed. It is nonsense to attempt to frighten the
masses by the story that rigorous measures will “nail up the door against
reconciliation of contending sections.” We have too much at stake, the
Government is of too much value, too much of the best blood of the nation is
calling to us for vindication, to justify us in neglecting any methods to put
the rebellion down known to civilized warfare. Would to God every man connected
with the Administration could travel incognito through the country, and
get the true expression of the people on these subjects! Instead of getting a
knowledge of that sentiment from impartial sources, it now comes to the President
and his cabinet from newspapers edited by men in office, from applicants for
place, from sycophants, and from cowards who dare not tell a man in power what
he knows to be the truth, if he supposes it will be unpleasant to him.
I pray and hope, but I confess that my hope is becoming
daily fainter and fainter. I know you will pardon this intrusion upon you. I
felt that it was a necessity that I should let out my soul on this subject, and
I know no one else to write to but you. I have written very frankly, but very
honestly. I hope the country is not in so bad a condition as I fear it to be
in. In my opinion, if wisdom rules the hour at Washington, a rigorous
confiscation war policy will first be declared, and then a conscription of
one hundred thousand men made at once. Men will not volunteer into the old
regiments. One volunteer in an old regiment is worth three fresh men in a new
regiment. A conscription of one hundred thousand men would be of more value
to the country than three hundred thousand volunteers, and, of course, cost
only one-third as much. But why should I advise?
SOURCE: William Salter, The Life of James W. Grimes,
p. 215-6
