ied their belief in the honesty of Welles
without saying a word for Cameron. There is every reason to think he
was not personally dishonourable. Lincoln believed in his complete
integrity, and so also did sterner critics, Chase, an apostle of
economy and uprightness, and Senator Sumner. But he had to go. He
opened the door for his removal by a circular to generals on the
subject of slaves, which was comparable to Fremont's Proclamation and
of which Lincoln had to forbid the issue. He accepted the appointment
of Minister to Russia, and when, before long, he returned, he justified
himself and Lincoln's judgment by his disinterested friendship and
support. He was removed from the War Office at the end of December and
a remarkable incident followed. While Lincoln's heart was still set on
his law practice, the prospect of appearing as something more than a
backwoods attorney smiled for a single moment on him. He was briefed
to appear in an important case outside Illinois with an eminent lawyer
from the East, Edwin M. Stanton; but he was not allowed to open his
mouth, for Stanton snuffed him out with supreme contempt, and he
returned home crestfallen. Stanton before the war was a strong
Democrat, but hated slavery. In the last days of Buchanan's Presidency
he was made Attorney-General and helped much to restore the lost credit
of that Administration. He was now in Washington, criticising the slow
conduct of the war with that explosive fury and scorn which led him to
commit frequent injustice (at the very end of the war he publicly and
monstrously accused Sherman of being bribed into terms of peace by
Southern gold), which concealed from most eyes his real kindness and a
lurking tenderness of heart, but which made him a vigorous
administrator intolerant of dishonesty and inefficiency. He was more
contemptuous of Lincoln than ever, he would constantly be denouncing
his imbecility, and it is incredible that kind friends were wanting to
convey his opinion to Lincoln. Lincoln made him Secretary of War.

Since the summer, to the impatient bewilderment of the Northern people,
of Congress, now again in session, and of the President himself, their
armies in the field were accomplishing just nothing at all, and, as
this agitating year, 1861, closed, a deep gloom settled on the North,
to be broken after a while by the glare of recurrent disaster.

CHAPTER IX

THE DISASTERS OF THE NORTH

1. _Military Policy of the