Rochester, Oct . 15,
1864.
My Dear Mr. Tilton:
I am obliged by your favor containing a copy of your recent
speech in Latimer halL I had read that speech in the Tribune several days ago,
and in my heart thanked you for daring thus to break the spell of enchantment
which slavery, though wounded, dying and despised, is still able to bind the
tongues of our republican orators. It was a timely word wisely and well spoken,
the best and most luminous spark struck from the flint and steel of this
canvass. To all appearance we have been more ashamed of the negro during this
canvass than those of '56 and '60. The President's “To whom it may concern,” frightened his party and his
party in return frightened the President. I found him in this alarmed condition
when I called upon him six weeks ago — and it is well to note the time.
The country was struck with one of those bewilderments which dethrone reason
for the moment. Every body was thinking and dreaming of peace — and the
impression had gone abroad that the President's antislavery policy was about
the only thing which prevented a peaceful settlement with the Rebels. McClellan
was nominated and at that time his prospects were bright as Mr. Lincoln's were
gloomy. You must therefore, judge the President's words in the light of the
circumstances in which he spoke. Atlanta had not fallen; Sheridan had not swept
the Shenandoah —and men were ready for peace almost at any price. The President
was pressed on every hand to modify his letter “To whom it may concern”— How to meet this pressure he did
me the honor to ask my opinion. He showed me a letter written with a view to
meet the peace clamour raised against him. The first point made in it was the
important fact that no man or set of men authorized to speak for the
Confederate Government had ever submitted a proposition for peace to him. Hence
the charge that he had in some way stood in the way of peace fell to the
ground. He had always stood ready to listen to any such propositions.
The next point referred to was the charge that he had in his
Niagara letter committed himself and the country to an abolition war rather
than a war for the union, so that even if the latter could be attained by
negotiation, the war would go on for Abolition.
The President did not propose to take back what he had said
in his Niagara letter but wished to relieve the fears of his peace friends by
making it appear that the thing which they feared could not happen and was
wholly beyond his power. Even if I would, I could not carry on the war for the
abolition of slavery. The country would not sustain such a war and I could do
nothing without the support of Congress. I could not make the abolition of
slavery an absolute prior condition to the re-establishment of the union. All
that the President said on this point was to make manifest his want of power to
do the thing which his enemies and pretended friends professed to be afraid he
would do. Now the question he put to me was “Shall I send forth this letter?”
To which I answered “Certainly not.” It would be given a broader meaning than
you intend to convey — it would be taken as a complete surrender of your
antislavery policy — and do yon serious damage. In answer to your Copperhead
accusers your friends can make this argument of your want of power — but you
cannot wisely say a word on that point. I have looked and feared that Mr.
Lincoln would say something of the sort, but he has been perfectly silent on
that point and I think will remain so. But the thing which alarmed me most was
this: The President said he wanted some plan devised by which we could get more
of the slaves within our lines. He thought that now was their time— and that
such only of them as succeeded in getting within our lines would be free after
the war is over. This shows that the President only has faith in his
proclamations of freedom during the war and that he believes their operation
will cease with the war. We were long together and there was much said—but this
is enough.
I gave my address, To the People of the U. S., to the
Committee appointed to publish the Minutes of the Convention. It is too lengthy
for a newspaper article though of course I should be very glad to see it
noticed in the Independent. You may not be aware that I do not see the
Independent now-a-days. It was discontinued several months ago. If you were not
like myself taxed on every hand both by your own disposition to give and the
disposition of others to ask I should ask you to send me the Independent for
one year on your own account .
We had Anna Dickinson here on Thursday night. Her speech
made a profound impression. Nothing from Phillips, Beecher or yourself could
have been more eloquent, and in her masterly handling of statistics she
reminded one of Horace Mann in his palmiest days. I never listened to her with
more wonder. One thing however I think you can say to her, if you ever get the chance,
for it ought to be said and she will hear it and bear it from you, as well or
better than from most other persons, and that is Stop that waiting. She
walked incessantly— back and forth — from one side the broad platform to the
other. It is a new trick and one which I neither think useful or ornamental but
really a defect and disfigurement. She would allow me to tell her so, I think,
because she knows how sincerely I appreciate both her wonderful talents and her
equally wonderful devotion to the cause of my enslaved race.
I am not doing much in this Presidential Canvass for the
reason that Republican committees do not wish to expose themselves to the
charge of being the "Niggar" party. The negro is the deformed child
which is put out of the room when company comes. I hope to speak some after the
election, though not much before, and I am inclined to think I shall be able to
speak all the more usefully because I have had so little to say during the
present canvass. I now look upon the election of Mr. Lincoln as settled.
When there was any shadow of a hope that a man of more
decided antislavery convictions and policy could be elected, I was not for Mr.
Lincoln, but as soon as the Chicago convention my mind was made up and it is
made up still. All dates changed with the Domination of McClellan.
I hope that in listening to Mr. Stanton's version of my
visit to the President you kept in mind something of Mr. Stanton's own state of
mind concerning public affairs. 1 found him in a very gloomy state of mind,
much less hopeful than myself, and yet more cheerful than I expected to find
him. I judge from your note that he must have imparted somewhat of the hue of
his own mind to my statements. He thinks far less of the President's honesty
than I do, and far less of his antislavery than I do. I have not yet come to
think that honesty and politics are incompatible. Well, here I am, my Dear Sir,
writing you a long letter—needlessly taking up your precious time—and with no
better expense for the impertinence than a brief not from you and a knowledge
of your good temper and disposition toward me.
Make all the speeches of this Latimer Hall kind you can—They
will look better after the election than now—though they bear with them the
grace of fitness now. Please remember me kindly to Mrs Tilton—and all the Dear
bright eyed little Tiltons—who sparkle like diamonds about your hearth—
Truly yours Always,
FREDERCK DOUGLASS.
P.S. I wish you would drop a line to John S. Rock Esqur
asking him to send you advanced sheets of my address to the people of the
United States.
He is at 6. Fremont Street—
Boston.
SOURCES: Descriptive
Catalogue of the Gluck Collection of Manuscripts and Autographs in the Buffalo
Public Library, p. 35-7; The
Frederick Douglass Papers: Series III: Correspondence, Volume 2: 1853-1865,
p. 460-3
