17

Political Maneuvering and Vallandigham’s Return

THE CLOSING MONTHS of 1863 were lonely ones for Vallandigham. His defeat in the October 13 elections had wounded his pride and tested his belief that time would vindicate him. The election returns also slammed the door on his hopes to return to Ohio triumphant and vindicated. The Canadian press lost interest in him, for he was no longer an important émigré. When the disheartened Ohioan looked out of the window of his hotel suite, he could see the U.S.S. Michigan, still serving as a grim reminder that military and naval authority could be used to keep him in exile.

Then, too, he was beset by financial problems late in 1863, being dependent upon money sent him by George Pugh and Samuel Cox.¹ Since the exile was a proud man, it depressed him to play the beggar. Furthermore, he was concerned about the health of his wife, who had returned to Dayton after a brief visit to Windsor. Her emotional instability plagued Vallandigham and he feared that his prolonged absence and the circumstances surrounding it might result in her nervous breakdown. In these months the martyr’s halo which C.L.V. imagined he wore lost much of its glow. He spent a lonely Christmas in his quarters at the Hirons House. The Christmas message, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men,” seemed to have a hollow ring for the troubled exile.

When word of Vallandigham’s financial needs reached Ohio, friends rallied to his support. Samuel Medary of the Crisis organized a “Vallandigham Fund,” begging subscribers of Democratic newspapers to give a dime or a dollar, and collecting money at party rallies. The success of the scheme thrilled Medary and eased the exile’s financial woes. By mid-January of 1864 Vallandigham could write, “Money I have now all that I shall need for some time.”² The “Vallandigham Fund” netted the exile about $20 thousand, perhaps more.³

Many of Vallandigham’s Ohio friends also visited him in Windsor, some dropping in nearly every weekend. Furthermore, several residents of Detroit and Windsor transformed acquaintances into friendships. “I have some excellent friends here and in Detroit,” the exile wrote to his brother James, “. . . and what time I am not occupied with them . . . I devote to my books.”⁴

Books furnished an escape from the harsh world of reality. Dayton friends brought some from his own library, and he bought or borrowed others. He reviewed history and political philosophy, seeking justification for his own inflexible views. He dipped again into “the ancient classics,” taking notes and extracting quotations which he might incorporate into letters or speeches. He had the time and the opportunity to don the mantle of a scholar. “Indeed, scarce ever in my life have I had so fine a chance to study,” he wrote, “and I am improving it to the utmost.”⁵

Vallandigham built up a false hope when he learned that the Supreme Court would hear his case on January 22, 1864. George Pugh, who occasionally visited Windsor, had applied for a writ of certiorari in the exile’s behalf, arguing that military commissions had limited uses and that General Burnside’s panel of army officers should not have tried a citizen “unconnected with the armed forces.” Pugh then asked the court to annul the exile’s sentence on grounds of illegality; he did not ask the court to judge if Vallandigham’s criticism of General Burnside and the Lincoln administration bordered on treason.⁶

Judge Advocate General Joseph Holt responded for the government. He argued that the court could be called upon to restrain the proceedings of Congress by injunction with as much propriety as it could to reverse the proceedings of military authority by certiorari in time of war. The laws providing for common defense and public safety, Holt maintained, recognized courts martial.⁷

Had Vallandigham known that eighty-six-year-old Chief Justice Roger B. Taney was too ill to hear Pugh’s arguments, he would have been less optimistic. In Taney’s absence, the judges decided not to paralyze the hand of the military and they ruled against the exile. Justice James M. Wayne delivered the opinion for his colleagues on February 15, 1864. The decision, which incorporated Holt’s arguments as well as his phraseology, denied the court’s right of jurisdiction. The nation’s highest judicial body ruled that it could not “originate a writ of certiorari to review . . . the proceedings of a military commission.” The judges refused the writ on the grounds that, even if the arrest, trial, and punishment were illegal, the court still had no authority to grant relief in this mode and that there was no law by which any appeal, or proceedings in the nature of an appeal, could be taken from a military commission to the Supreme Court.⁸ Hiding behind legal jargon, the Supreme Court simply believed it inexpedient to challenge military authority during the war.

Republicans applauded the court’s decision. President Lincoln, Attorney General Edward Bates, and General Burnside breathed sighs of relief. Some Republican editors seemed to believe that the court’s refusal to accept jurisdiction proved Vallandigham guilty of treason. William D. Bickham of the Dayton Journal deceived his readers by maintaining that the court had refused to intervene because the exile was guilty of the charges made by General Burnside. He turned to literature for an analogy to chide the hapless exile: “His Satanic Majesty is reported to have exclaimed when he was plunged into the infernal regions: ‘Miserable me! Which way shall I fly!’”⁹

Democrats, on the other hand, attacked the Supreme Court’s timidity and lack of integrity, claiming the judges had bowed to expediency. The editor of the Dayton Empire, for example, wrote that the court was guilty of “a cowardly evasion of a question which it was the duty of the Court to decide.”¹⁰ One angry and perceptive Democratic editor stated his views even more bluntly: “The Supreme Court has no jurisdiction in matters of individual liberty, unless the party claiming redress can prove he was outraged according to law.”¹¹

Although an exile, Vallandigham was intensely interested in political developments in the United States. Since 1864 was a presidential election year, the political pot began to boil early. Lincoln’s friends introduced resolutions in various state legislatures endorsing his reelection. Neither the Missouri nor the Ohio legislature, however, gave Lincoln the vote of confidence which he wanted, for radical Republicans in those states preferred John C. Frémont or Salmon P. Chase. Democrats, aware that explosive forces operated within the Republican party, hoped that a schism might develop and give their party a chance to win the election.

All Democrats agreed that Lincoln did not deserve a second term. “That Abraham Lincoln is ruining our country to perdition,” Samuel Medary stated in the Crisis, “—destroying ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,’ everybody not crazy with ‘negro on the brain’ knows, and knows it well.”¹² Although Democrats were united in their opposition to the reelection of Lincoln, they could agree on nothing else. They disagreed over the efficacy of peace and compromise, some giving it priority, others viewing it as impractical and unrealistic. Some styled themselves “Peace Democrats” while others called themselves “War Democrats.” Many Midwestern Democrats, including Medary and Vallandigham, viewed themselves as Western sectionalists and they resented the efforts of August Belmont and Erastus Corning, both of New York, to take over the party hierarchy. Defeated nearly everywhere in the ’63 elections and torn by dissension, the Democracy had degenerated into an ineffectual organization, without a positive program and without vibrant leadership.

Aware that neither Millard Fillmore nor Franklin Pierce retained any political magic, Democratic strategists studied the credentials of prominent generals. Samuel Cox, who had criticized Vallandigham on occasion while befriending him at other times, took the lead in promoting General George B. McClellan’s candidacy—the controversial general could envision himself in the White House and he made himself most available. Cox was sure that even Vallandigham could be brought around to support McClellan and that other peace men would fall in line. “We can get the Peace men for McClellan,” Cox wrote. “They are the fiercest disciplinarians,” he added, “& they dare not bolt.”¹³

Cox knew he had Vallandigham over a barrel. He had campaigned for him assiduously in 1863 even though he did not endorse his extreme peace views. He had gone out of his way to testify in Vallandigham’s behalf before Burnside’s military commission, even claiming as his own some remarks which the proscution attributed to the prisoner. More than that, Cox had reached deeply into his own pocket in the exile’s hours of greatest need and had encouraged his New York friends to do likewise. Having accepted Cox’s money and assistance, C.L.V. would hardly dare to repudiate his colleague’s candidate, unless he was willing to be called an ingrate or a self-centered snob. Cox did not expect Vallandigham to abet the McClellan boom, but he was sure that once McClellan had gained the nomination, the exile would accept the facts of political life.¹⁴

While Cox was busy promoting McClellan’s candidacy, some Midwestern peace men took steps to impose their views upon the party. Harrison H. Dodd of Indiana tried to revive the Sons of Liberty, a secret Democratic organization he had attempted to launch in 1863, as a vehicle to unite Peace Democrats and prevent McClellan’s nomination.

A handful of Midwestern peace men accepted the invitation of Fernando Wood and James A. McMaster of the Freeman’s Journal to meet secretly in New York on February 22 to discuss ways and means to stop the McClellan boom. On their way to New York City, Amos Green of Illinois and Dr. James A. Barret of Missouri passed through Windsor, stopping to visit Vallandigham and exchange views. They told the exile of their hope to create a widespread Democratic secret society, one that would effectively counter the work of the Union Leagues and help nominate and elect a peace man as president. They asked Vallandigham to head this association, appealing to his vanity by telling him that his name would draw many Democrats into the society. Green and Barret also insisted that they intended to reorganize and revitalize Dodd’s dormant association in New York City—selling their bill of goods to eastern peace men.

The exile stated his opposition to secret political associations. He endorsed the tenet preached by Charles H. Lanphier of the Illinois State Register: “True democracy works in the light of day.”¹⁵ But Green and Barret assured Vallandigham that the motives of the society’s founders were pure and that such action was necessary to meet the secret Union League on its own ground. When C.L.V. stopped protesting, Green and Barret took it for granted that he had acquiesced.¹⁶

Two other Midwestern Democrats, Dr. Thomas C. Massey of Ohio and Harrison H. Dodd of Indiana, stopped in Windsor on March 1, on their way home from the peace conclave in New York City. Vallandigham had a slight acquaintance with Massey. The two callers told the exile that he had been elected “Supreme Grand Commander” of the Sons of Liberty at the New York meeting and showed him the partly drafted constitution and ritual. Vallandigham crossed out much of the hocus-pocus and some of the ritual and added selections from the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions of 1798 as “lessons of the Inner Temple.” Then he agreed to serve as “Supreme Grand Commander” for a year.¹⁷ Pleased that Vallandigham had lent his name to the organization, Dodd and Massey returned home, each bearing the self-selected title of “Grand Commander” for his state.

A handful of Peace Democrats gathered in Vallandigham’s suite in the Hirons House in mid-April. Although their eyes were upon the exile, their thoughts dwelt on the Democratic National Convention of July 4 in Chicago, as they groped for ways to prevent McClellan’s nomination and to revive the peace-and-compromise crusade. As a result of the discussion, Vallandigham agreed to write an “open letter” emphasizing the need for compromise and the advisability of nominating a peace man at Chicago.¹⁸

After the meeting some of those present discussed the status of the Sons of Liberty. S. Corning Judd, a gubernatorial candidate in Illinois, reported on conditions in his state. Democrats there, Judd asserted, would not give up their rights without a struggle—they would insist upon free elections and all constitutional rights. Harrison H. Dodd reported on affairs in Indiana. He was bitter about Governor Oliver P. Morton’s arbitrary and partisan practices and he stated that the Sons of Liberty would save civil rights and elect peace men. Massey then discussed the situation in Ohio, and the exile bent an interested ear. The Ohio Democracy, Massey said, had not yet fully recovered from its resounding defeat in the gubernatorial contest of the previous fall. Antiwar sentiment, however, seemed to be gaining favor; Samuel Medary continued to chant “Peace! Peace! Peace!” in the Crisis, and the new editors of the Dayton Empire simplified the issue by claiming it was either peace or pandemonium. Vallandigham’s leadership of the Sons of Liberty, Massey added, should draw many into the society and make it a more effective political force.

Affairs in Missouri were then discussed by Charles L. Hunt. As a close personal friend of Phineas C. Wright, who had organized a handful of dissidents into the Order of American Knights, Hunt brusquely stated that Missouri peace men preferred the American Knights to the Sons of Liberty. Hunt further riled Vallandigham by advocating an immediate armistice and suggesting giving aid to the Southern rebels. Visibly angry, Vallandigham interrupted Hunt and gave him a severe castigation. He averred that he would have nothing to do with the Missouri “outfit!” There was a difference, the exile bluntly asserted, between being a critic of the government and a traitor. He would never be the latter! While ill feelings still smoldered, James A. McMaster of the Freeman’s Journal had his say. As the inactive “Grand Commander” in New York, McMaster spoke vehemently against President Lincoln and shocked some of those present by openly endorsing secession. Vallandigham forthrightly dissented and so did Judd. On the other hand, Hunt hurried to McMaster’s defense and sparks flew.¹⁹

Because of the disagreements among those trying to set policy for the Sons of Liberty, the organization died “aborning.” It became again merely a paper organization and a pretense. As “Supreme Grand Commander,” Vallandigham never issued an order or directive and never called a meeting of the “Grand Commanders” of the several states. The exile held only a title, not an office. The quarrelsome Peace Democrats returned home to their respective states, quite disheartened. They knew that their paper-based organization could not serve as an effective antidote to the Union Leagues. It could not protect the civil rights of dissenters and preserve states’ rights. Nor could it prevent General McClellan from gaining the Democratic presidential nomination. In fact, when ex-President Millard Fillmore, Manton Marble of the New York World, and Wilbur F. Storey of the Chicago Times threw their support to Cox’s candidate, McClellan’s nomination was all but assured.²⁰

Vallandigham’s Dayton and Ohio friends, however, refused to accept Cox’s contention that McClellan had the nomination in the bag. They assured the exile that they would put his name forward as a delegate-at-large to the Democratic National Convention, scheduled to meet in Columbus on March 23. Loyal supporters of Vallandigham believed that if he showed up at the Chicago convention as a duly elected delegate, President Lincoln would hardly dare order his arrest. “If he is chosen as a delegate,” avowed an adamant supporter of Vallandigham, “the Democracy of Ohio will see that he attends the Chicago Convention”²¹—even if 100,000 Democrats had to march to Windsor and escort him to the convention.

Heartened by the loyalty and promises of his friends, Vallandigham took steps to refurbish his reputation. He helped collect a stack of his speeches, addresses, and letters and waited impatiently while Jefferson A. Walter arranged for their publication in book form.²² He wrote letters of encouragement to his friends in Hamilton and Dayton. He must have regained some hope and confidence when the Montgomery County Democracy adopted a statement which read: “Resolved, That the Patriot and Statesman, Clement L. Vallandigham, is the first choice of the Democracy of Montgomery County for the next President of the United States.”²³ Perhaps the halo of the martyr regained some of its glow.

While Vallandigham sought to refurbish his reputation with one pen, he inadvertently damaged it with another, writing a letter while angry and indignant. Upon hearing that the editorial offices of several Democratic newspapers, including the Dayton Empire (in which he still had a financial interest), had been “mobbed” or destroyed, Vallandigham endorsed “the law of retaliation” and promised reprisals. His letter, written to the editor of the Empire and evidently intended for publication, regretted that Dayton mobsters had not received “the complete punishment”—lead from the defenders’ guns. To prevent future mob action against their persons or property, Democrats must let Republicans know that they would fight fire with fire—“instant, summary and ample reprisals upon the persons and property of those who, by language or conduct, incited the outrages.”²⁴

Every Daytonian knew that Vallandigham was thinking of William D. Bickham and his newspaper, the Dayton Journal. Earlier Bickham had intimated that threats and violence were proper means to transform dissenters and would-be traitors into patriots. When Vallandigham’s reprisal letter was published, Bickham’s ears burned. He denounced Vallandigham and his “mischievous teachings.” For good measure, Bickham restated an earlier contention, that Vallandigham was as much a traitor as Benedict Arnold and that he wanted to plunge the country into anarchy and civil war.²⁵

Vallandigham’s absurd reprisal letter brought him notoriety again. Even the editor of the New York Tribune censured the exile for “casting aside the practices of civilization and advocating the law of the jungle.” Reprisal policy, Greeley suggested, would popularize burglary, arson, and murder. Perhaps Vallandigham’s “manifesto,” Greeley added, was intended to help “his friend,” Jefferson Davis.²⁶

Reprisal doctrine, coming from Vallandigham’s mouth, had a strange sound for he had constantly claimed he was devoted to law, order, and constitutionalism. Now he seemed to revive John Brown’s tactics. The law of retaliation contradicted all of what Vallandigham had preached or written previously. It contradicted his claim that he was essentially a conservative who loved law and order and liberty. Even indignation was no excuse for writing another letter which was effective ammunition for his enemies.

While friends and foes discussed the merits of the exile’s reprisal letter, they immersed themselves in politics, for 1864 was a presidential election year. Ohio Democrats favorable to McClellan’s candidacy worked night and day to prevent the selection of peace Democrats as delegates to the Chicago convention. Above all, they did not want Vallandigham named as a delegate-at-large. Such prominent Ohio Democrats as Samuel Cox and George Manypenny, having pitched McClellan’s presidential tent on the state’s soil, regarded peace men like Vallandigham as “misguided warriors” and did not want the state convention to damage their chief’s chances in Chicago. Nor did such political realists as Allen G. Thurman and Rufus P. Ranney want Vallandigham’s “dead weight” to pull their party down to defeat.²⁷

On March 23 all eyes turned toward Columbus, where Democrats gathered to adopt resolutions and name four at-large delegates to the party’s national convention. Those who called themselves War Democrats expressed disappointment when the convention wrote Vallandigham’s views into the resolutions. The first lauded Jeffersonian doctrine “as expressed in the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions.” The second characterized the Lincoln administration as “an abject failure.” The third (the controversial peace-and-compromise resolution) asked for “the immediate inauguration of peaceful means” to end the war and restore “the Union under the Constitution.” Although Vallandigham and most of the delegates approved this resolution, radicals like Alexander Long and William M. Corry favored the immediate cessation of hostilities and the withdrawal of troops from the South. The fourth and last resolution denounced the “mob spirit” so prevalent throughout the country and laid the blame for it at Lincoln’s door. “The tyranny of the present Administration,” the last sentence of the resolution read, “has sown seeds from which we are now reaping a harvest of crime.”²⁸ It was typical of the law-and-order pleas expressed by conservatives throughout the Civil War.

After approving and applauding the resolutions, the representatives turned to the task of naming the state’s four delegates-at-large to the national convention. Three McClellan men received enough first-ballot votes to gain the necessary plurality: William Allen of Chillicothe, Allen G. Thurman of Columbus, and George H. Pendleton of Cincinnati. Rufus P. Ranney finished fourth, Vallandigham fifth, and Samuel Medary sixth on the first ballot, but each failed to receive the quota of votes set by the convention rules.

As the convention prepared for the second ballot, Medary arose, withdrew his name, and asked his friends to vote for Vallandigham. The exile’s friends, many no more than spectators, sent up a cheer that shook the rafters and caused Cox to turn pale. After the second ballot had been cast, the tellers tallied the votes: Ranney, 216⅔; Vallandigham, 211⅓; and William M. Corry, 1. When the presiding officer declared Ranney elected, Vallandigham’s supporters created an uproar. The scene defied description. The Vallandighamers denounced the presiding officer, the tellers, and their opponents generally. A dozen of them sought the floor, gesticulating violently and shouting at the president of the convention. Several in the bellicose Hamilton County delegation squared off as if to fight. After their fury had been spent in vain, the presiding officer stated that the tallies had been rechecked and recounted, with the results the same as first announced. When all “had been proven fair,” John A. McMahon, made “a very handsome speech” in favor of party harmony, asking the defeated delegates to accept the results as befitted loyal party men. Since McMahon was Vallandigham’s nephew and confidant, the discontented delegates stopped acting like street urchins who had lost their candy. Dr. Edson B. Olds, a well-known peace man, also asked for party harmony and good sportsmanship. Someone then moved to make the election of the four delegates-at-large “unanimous.” The motion carried, although a handful of discontented Vallandigham supporters showed their ill-will be shouting “Nay!” Before adjourning, the convention gave three cheers for the Constitution and three more for the Union.²⁹

McClellan’s Ohio supporters were elated at Vallandigham’s defeat, interpreting it as a victory for “Little Mac.” “Altogether,” one McClellan man wrote, “it may be considered that we have gained a great triumph.”³⁰

After their disappointment at Vallandigham’s defeat had worn off, his disciples realized that they had not walked away from the table empty-handed. They claimed that the party platform, in the form of the four resolutions, was quite satisfactory—more than crumbs at the political feast. Vallandigham, informed of his defeat at the convention, felt compelled to deny that he had sought a delegateship, even stating that his name had been presented “against his express consent.”³¹ He even implied that he could have been elected if he had so wished and the editors of the Democratic newspapers in his home town put the same contention into print.³² It was another case of sour grapes.

The exile still had a second chance—he could be elected one of the two delegates from the Third Congressional District. Vallandigham’s friends in Dayton announced they intended to nominate him at the district convention, scheduled to meet in Hamilton on June 15. Ground lost at Columbus might be regained there and some of his friends urged him to put in an appearance at Hamilton in mid-June. Such bold action might throw the balance in his favor and give him the delegateship he wanted more than words could tell.

Meanwhile, Republicans were engaged in a family fight. Both Salmon P. Chase and John C. Frémont wanted the Republican nomination, and each had the support of some radicals in the party. Outwitted and out-maneuvered by Lincoln, Chase felt compelled to renounce his presidential ambitions. Frémont, however, stayed in the field and his friends issued a call for “a special convention” to meet in Cleveland on May 31—a week before the Republican convention was slated to meet in Baltimore. The Cleveland convention, as expected, nominated Frémont but failed to intimidate Lincoln’s supporters or stampede the Republican party. The party steamroller nominated Lincoln at Baltimore on June 7, calling the gathering the National Union Convention and drafting Andrew Johnson as the running mate. Frémont, however, kept his hat in the ring and radical Republicans pushed the Wade-Davis Bill through Congress, thereby declaring war on Lincoln’s reconstruction program. The fight between Lincoln and the radicals of his own party gave heart to Vallandigham and the Democrats. They hoped it was a fight between two Kilkenny cats.³³

Democrats failed to exploit the Republican schism. Ohio Democrats were more guilty of feuding than were those of other states. Alexander Long, William M. Corry, and Samuel Medary tried to foist their extreme peace views upon the party. Long wanted an armistice and even advocated his views on the floor of the House of Representatives in the nation’s capital. “If the time ever was when the Union could be restored by war,” he declared dogmatically, “it has since been disspelled by emancipation, confiscation . . . and like proclamations.”³⁴ Party spokesmen such as Samuel Cox and George Manypenny, on the other hand, urged Democrats to put patriotism before partisanship. They arduously advocated the nomination of McClellan and accused peace men in the party of trying to lead the Democracy down the road of self-destruction.³⁵

At his Canadian retreat, meanwhile, Clement L. Vallandigham mulled over possible courses of action. He grew more restless with each passing month, fully aware of his waning influence in Ohio politics. Continued exile consigned him to oblivion, while his ego required publicity and attention. Furthermore, he was tired of the long separation from his family; word from Ohio indicated his wife was not well and his mother was gravely ill. Dr. John McElwee, editor of the Hamilton True Telegraph and one of Vallandigham’s closest personal friends, urged the exile to cross the border, appear at the Third District Convention on June 15, and get back into the public limelight. He even promised to escort Vallandigham from Windsor to Hamilton.

There were other considerations. Wilbur F. Storey of the Chicago Times had practically called him a coward for not returning to the U.S. to claim rights to which he was entitled. In addition, the peace movement, which Vallandigham had led before his arrest and exile, gathered new life in 1864. Grant’s murderous assaults against Lee’s lines in the Wilderness (May 5-6), at Spotsylvania (May 8-12), and at Cold Harbor (June 3) gained little ground and resulted in Union losses of 55,000. The blood baths gave impetus to the peace crusade, and Vallandigham would like to have been in Ohio aiding the groundswell.³⁶

Then too, Confederate agents in Windsor embarrassed him and gave his critics an excuse to say he was among friends. Jacob Thompson, a Confederate commissioner serving his country in Canada, visited Vallandigham in Windsor, perhaps to seek his aid to achieve Confederate aims. They discussed the question of peace and compromise but disagreed on the basic issue: Vallandigham desired peace, compromise, and reunion; Thompson wanted peace and Southern independence. The Confederate commissioner asked about the Sons of Liberty—the order’s size and objectives. Vallandigham bluntly told Thompson that he would give no information to a nonmember. Embarrassed by the rebuff, Thompson tactfully turned the conversation to such topics as reconstruction and the election of 1864.³⁷ Thompson’s visit to Vallandigham and the presence of an ever-increasing number of draft dodgers and Confederate agents in Windsor gave Republicans ample opportunity to concoct anti-Vallandigham propaganda.

All of these facts caused Vallandigham to grow more and more restless. Perhaps returning to Hamilton might insure his election as a delegate to the Democratic national convention. If he was elected, would President Lincoln dare defy the wishes of the Democracy of the Third District?

Vallandigham finally decided that the game was worth the candle. To put federal agents off the track, he stated aloud his intention to attend the Chicago convention of July 4. Four friends³⁸ from Hamilton arrived in Windsor on June 14 to escort the exile back home. After darkness had enveloped the city, Vallandigham donned his disguise—false whiskers and a cape. The five crossed the Detroit River on the ferry boat, walked to the Detroit railroad station, entered a sleeping car on the Toledo train, and tossed sleeplessly in their berths as they considered the possible consequences of their action.

The night ride was uneventful. The train passed through Dayton on its way southward and no one there dreamed that Vallandigham had taken steps to end a year’s exile. It chugged into Hamilton early on the morning of the fifteenth. As the train slowed down near the depot, the five weary travelers stepped off the cars. Two in the party conducted Vallandigham to the home of a farmer two miles north of Hamilton. There he planned his dramatic reentry into public life. After leaving Vallandigham near the depot, Dr. McElwee hurried to his print shop to set up handbills announcing the exile’s return and stating that Vallandigham would speak from the central platform at three o’clock. By that time the scheduled speakers should have had their say.

At his farm hideout, Vallandigham wrote a note to his nephew, John McMahon, representing Montgomery County at the Third District Convention. The note stated that C.L.V. was “two miles from Hamilton” and “would speak at three o’clock.” Vallandigham anticipated that the Montgomery County delegates would meet in caucus that morning to consider appropriate resolutions and endorse candidates to represent the district at the Chicago convention.

Vallandigham’s note reached McMahon’s hands at eleven o’clock, just after Montgomery County representatives met in caucus. When McMahon showed the note to others, an air of excitement pervaded the room. Some were surprised, most were elated, and all stated their intent to work for Vallandigham’s election. They convinced themselves that they would witness an historic event that afternoon.³⁹

Representatives of the Third District Democracy convened at one-thirty in the afternoon, electing Chris Hughes of Hamilton as chairman. They adopted a set of radical resolutions, some far to the left of Vallandigham’s position on peace, compromise, and reunion. The most controversial resolution asked for an “immediate cessation of hostilities” and the inauguration of measures to secure “a just and lasting peace.” The resolution offered evidence that defeatism and war-weariness were rampant and that the prayer for peace was on a thousand lips. Another resolution thanked Alexander Long for his propeace speech of April 8 in Congress—it was a speech which had brought him censure and nearly resulted in his expulsion from the House of Representatives. Other resolutions repeated the usual line: one blamed the Republicans for bringing on “the unnecessary war,” and another condemned the Lincoln administration for its “many arbitrary acts.”⁴⁰

After convention action on the resolutions, Chris Hughes read the handbill which stated that Clement L. Vallandigham was back and would address the gathering at three o’clock. “The whole crowd,” wrote a reporter who was present, “joined in one prolonged, furious, and overwhelming yell that lasted for several minutes.”⁴¹ When the presiding officer finally restored order, the convention named its two delegates to the Chicago National Convention. The selection fell upon Clement L. Vallandigham and Chris Hughes. Vallandigham’s supporters, jubilant and defiant, again rent the air with cheers and shouts.

At three o’clock, when the former exile walked onto the platform, his appearance electrified the crowd. “He came unheralded from his exile,” a devotee later recalled, “and his sudden appearance was like an apparition from the clouds.”⁴² Excited Democrats mixed calls for “Vallandigham! Vallandigham!” with hurrahs and applause. “The cheers and excitement was [sic] beyond anything we ever witnessed,” wrote another disciple of the exile, adding, “It was a most touching and inspiring spectacle. The hold Mr. Vallandigham has upon the popular heart is a very striking and wonderful fact.”⁴³

Vallandigham seemed to be his old confident self. He spoke deliberately, often half-reading from a carefully prepared manuscript, as the audience strained to catch every word. He denied he was guilty of any crime, adding that he was willing and ready to answer any charges in civil courts. He called the 186,000 Democrats who had voted for him on October 13, 1863, his “sureties.” He asserted that he had the right to be critical of Republican policies and the Lincoln administration. He also had the right to protection under the Constitution’s guarantees. “I am here,” he said with a voice ringing with sincerity, “for peace, not turbulence; for quiet, not convulsions; for law and order, not anarchy.” Yet his plea for law and order was shaded with the suggestion that his supporters should riot and rebel if he was again arrested and denied his rights.⁴⁴ It was the kind of boldness that Wilbur F. Storey of the Chicago Times would have admired and applauded.

Then the speaker felt compelled to explain his link to the Sons of Liberty and to deny Republican contentions that it was a subversive society, organized to aid Southern rebels and formed to bring a Northwest Confederacy into being. It was no more, Vallandigham asserted, than “a lawful Democratic society” interested in countering the work of the Republican-sponsored Union Leagues and in winning the coming presidential contest. He pretended that the organization was extensive, evidently thinking that the administration would be less inclined to rearrest him, interfere with free elections, and trample upon the rights of Democrats if Republicans believed the Sons to be as numerous as the leaves on the trees.⁴⁵

A detective, sent out by the provost marshal general of the Department of the Missouri to investigate rumors that Vallandigham would return from exile, happened to be in the audience at Hamilton on June 15, watching the crowd reaction and listening to the speakers. He scribbled scrupulously in a little black book and listened for statements he believed traitorous. He was disappointed, for he found no taint of treason attached to Vallandigham’s varied comments. Later, the agent presented himself to Vallandigham as a reporter for the Chicago Times and asked him about his future plans. But neither Vallandigham nor his immediate friends trusted the garrulous fellow; they surmised that he was a spy and evaded answering his questions.⁴⁶

Later that afternoon Vallandigham, his nephew, and most of the Montgomery County delegates to the convention entrained for Dayton, arriving early in the evening and without fanfare. The former exile took a carriage to his home at 323 First Street.

Next day excited Daytonians spread the word that Vallandigham was back. Many called at his home to receive a warm handshake, exchange pleasantries, and guess what the future held. In the afternoon, accompanied by Mayor Gillespie, C.L.V. walked down Main Street and on to the Empire Building. There, as in days of old, he received a warm welcome. In the evening some four hundred Dayton Democrats serenaded Vallandigham at his home. A hastily organized band played several numbers, including the “Vallandigham Polka.” The serenaders then formed a semi-circle around the front porch and called for “Valiant Val” to come out and give a short speech. His face wreathed in a smile of appreciation, he soon appeared on the front porch. He spoke briefly, saying he had come home to be with his family and to claim and enjoy the civil rights to which he was entitled. He publicly warned Dayton Republicans that if they sought to “interfere” with his rights, they might feel “the hand of wrath.” If any military commander came to arrest him, he supposed that Dayton Democrats would make “the persons and properties of his enemies” serve as “hostage” for him. Evidently he hoped to intimidate Dayton Republicans and expected them to use their influence to prevent his rearrest.⁴⁷

Governor Brough, excited at the news of Vallandigham’s return, promptly asked military authorities to arrest him. Colonel John H. Potter, provost marshal general of Ohio, ordered four companies of federal troops readied to assist in the arrest, but Major General Samuel P. Heintzelman, commanding the department,⁴⁸ stalled for time and sought advice from Indiana’s governor, Oliver P. Morton, with whom he happened to be closeted when he heard of Vallandigham’s return and Brough’s orders. Morton urged Heintzelman to rearrest Vallandigham, but the general procrastinated. He was reluctant to act without orders from Washington. Furthermore, he resented Brough’s and Potter’s instructions, for he questioned their right to give orders to his troops. Heintzelman escaped the pressure which Governors Brough and Morton sought to apply by getting lost on his return trip from Indianapolis to Columbus—he boarded the wrong cars at Xenia, ended up in Springfield next morning, and spent most of that day finding his way back to Columbus.⁴⁹

Although frantic partisans, such as Edgar Conkling of the Cincinnati Gazette, threatened to organize a posse and make a citizens’ arrest if federal or state authorities failed to act, more rational Republicans advised state and military authorities to ignore Vallandigham. “Say for me, if you please, to the Governor [Brough],” wrote the influential Murat Halstead, “that it would be a great mistake now to arrest Vallandigham. . . . Sensible Republicans without exception say the best thing to do is to let him alone.”⁵⁰

Horace Greeley, always free with advice, asked President Lincoln to ignore the returned exile. “Better let him alone,” Greeley advised the president. “He will do good here. His running for Governor last year was worth fifty thousand votes to the Unionists of Ohio. Can’t we get him on the Copperhead ticket as Vice-President?”⁵¹

Lincoln decided to follow the policy of watchful waiting. He wrote a letter to Brough and Heintzelman, asking them to consult together and to watch Vallandigham “closely.” If there was “any palpable injury, or imminent danger to the Military,” they should arrest the former exile and all others implicated. Showing irresolution and vaccilation, Lincoln added, “Otherwise do not arrest him without further orders; meanwhile report the signs to me from time to time.”⁵² Changing his mind again, the president never sent the letter, letting it gather dust upon his desk. Privately he wryly stated that he had no official knowledge of Vallandigham’s return and that he would know nothing until the Ohioan was guilty of some objectionable acts.⁵³

In the days that followed, Vallandigham lived quietly in Dayton, making no public speeches and even failing to reopen his old law office. Nor did he take any out-of-town trips, fearing arrest if he left the friendly confines of his city. He did not even go to New Lisbon to visit his mother, lying on her deathbed. “But while I feel perfectly secure here, I think the Administration would be but too glad to find me at a distance from home,” he wrote on July 7.⁵⁴ His mother never read the letter, for she died before it reached her. Nor did he go to New Lisbon for his mother’s funeral. He felt guilty for staying away and he put the blame on others rather than himself. “Words cannot express the feelings of my heart,” he wrote with a heavy pen, “at the thought that I have not been in a position to be with her and with you all. But it is part of the evil times upon which we have fallen. . . . Though I could not see her in death, I rejoice that she lived to see my return to my own country and my home.”⁵⁵

Vallandigham approved the postponement of the Chicago convention to August 29, believing that new draft calls and more military failures might seal the doom of the party in power. The onetime exile and other doves talked of “the high price of blood.” They pointed to Sherman’s heavy losses at Kennesaw Mountain and added his casualties to those resulting from Grant’s campaign before Richmond. Dr. John McElwee, for example, demanded that the government “STOP THIS WAR!”, asked Lincoln “to call off his dogs of war,” and ended a propeace editorial with the assertion, “This murderous crusade has gone far enough.”⁵⁶

While the peace crusade gathered momentum during June and July of 1864, a Republican-minded army colonel prepared an extraordinary piece of political propaganda. This “mare’s nest,” entitled “Conspiracy to Establish a Northwest Confederacy,”⁵⁷ claimed that a subversive society called the Order of American Knights aimed to “overthrow the Federal Government,” create “a Northwestern Confederacy,” and aid in the election of a Democratic president. Colonel John P. Sanderson, author of the exposé, claimed that Clement L. Vallandigham commanded the northern half of the serpentine society and that Confederate General Sterling Price headed the southern half.⁵⁸

Vallandigham, viewing Sanderson’s handiwork as pure poppycock, refused to dignify the story with any comments. His Democratic colleagues, however, turned their wrath upon the storyteller and his revelations. They characterized the report, which Republican newspapers broadcast over the country, as “pure humbuggery” and “a fantasy full of contradictions and inconsistencies.” “A greater lot of trash and falsehood,” wrote one indignant Democratic editor, “was never concocted for the telegraph wires. It is one of the old ‘Lincoln dodges’ to affect the Chicago Convention and elevate the falling stock of the administration party.”⁵⁹

While denying the O.A.K. revelations, the Democrats set their sights on the Chicago convention. Vallandigham and other Peace Democrats gloried in the ever-growing peace movement, hoping to draft a propeace platform and nominate a peace candidate. The heady wine misled them to believe their dream might become a reality.

¹ Cox to Samuel L. M. Barlow, 21 November 1863, Samuel L. M. Barlow Papers, Henry E. Huntington Library, San Marino, California.

² C.L.V. to his brother James, 16 January 1864, published in part in Vallandigham, Vallandigham, p. 346.

³ This estimate is based on reports published periodically in the Crisis and the Dayton Empire. The Dayton Daily Empire, 20 April 1864, reported that the “Vallandigham Fund” increased by $5,046.68 during the two-week period 4-18 April. Earlier the Hillsborough Weekly Gazette, 7 April 1864, stated that the fund had passed the $10,000 mark “by the end of March.”

⁴ 16 January 1864, published in part in Vallandigham, Vallandigham, p. 346.

⁵ Ibid.

⁶ Ex Parte Vallandigham 68 U.S. (1 Wallace) 243-54 (1864).

⁷ Ibid.

⁸ Ibid. David M. Silver, “The Supreme Court during the Civil War” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Illinois, 1940), proves conclusively that Justice Wayne leaned heavily upon Holt’s brief, paraphrasing large sections of it.

⁹ 16 February 1864.

¹⁰ 16, 29 February, 1 March 1864.

¹¹ Detroit Free Press, 26 February 1864.

¹² 27 January 1864.

¹³ Cox to Samuel L. M. Barlow, 21 November 1863, Barlow Papers.

¹⁴ Ibid.

¹⁵ 24 February 1863.

¹⁶ Testimony of Vallandigham before the Cincinnati Military Commission, 29 March 1865, published in the Cincinnati Daily Enquirer, 30 March 1865.

¹⁷ Ibid.

¹⁸ Ibid.

¹⁹ Testimony of S. Corning Judd and Vallandigham before the Cincinnati Military Commission, 29-31 March 1865, published in the Cincinnati Daily Enquirer, 30, 31 March 1865. The testimony of the two, given on different days, agreed on what was said at the conference in Vallandigham’s room.

²⁰ Fillmore to McClellan, 24 March 1864, George B. McClellan Papers, Library of Congress; Thomas O. Lowe to his brother William, 2 April 1864, Thomas O. Lowe Papers, Dayton and Montgomery County Public Library.

²¹ John A. Trimble to David A. Houk, 4 April 1864, Alexander S. Boys Papers, Ohio Historical Society, Columbus.

²² Twenty thousand copies were published under the title Speeches, Arguments, Addresses, and Letters of Clement L. Vallandigham (New York, 1864).

²³ “Resolutions of the Montgomery County Democracy, March 19, 1864,” published in the Dayton Daily Empire, 31 March 1864.

²⁴ C.L.V. to “Messrs. Hubbard,” 1 March 1864, published in Dayton Daily Empire, 12 March. Even George W. Manypenny, known as a moderate Democrat editor, endorsed the reprisal doctrine, writing that if his office or printing plant was destroyed, the Ohio State Journal (the Columbus Republican newspaper) would go down at the same time and by the same means, whether mob or fire. See Daily Ohio Statesman (Columbus), 17 February 1864. Marcus Mills “Brick” Pomeroy of the LaCrosse Democrat stated the law of reprisal more bluntly: “Matches are cheap. If fanatics and fools seek mob law and anarchy, by all means let them have it. . . . for every dime of property destroyed by political opponents, destroy a dollar’s worth in return” (1 February 1864).

²⁵ Dayton Daily Journal, 14 March 1864.

²⁶ New York Tribune, 13 March 1864.

²⁷ Daily Ohio Statesman (Columbus, n.d.), quoted in the Dayton Daily Empire, 31 March 1864.

²⁸ “Resolutions adopted at the Democratic State Convention, March 23, 1864,” published in the Daily Ohio Statesman (Columbus), 24 March 1864.

²⁹ A. Benning Norton to Samuel L. M. Barlow, 25 March 1864, Barlow Papers; John A. Trimble to David A. Houk, 4 April 1864, Boys Papers; Dayton Daily Journal, 25 March 1864; Crisis, 25 March 1864.

³⁰ George Morgan to McClellan, 28 March 1864, McClellan Papers; A. Benning Norton to Samuel L. M. Barlow, 25 March 1864, Barlow Papers.

³¹ Detroit Free Press, 26 March 1864.

³² Dayton Daily Empire, 28 March 1864.

³³ The story of the Republicans and the presidential election of 1864 is related in William Frank Zornow, Lincoln and the Party Divided (Norman, Okla., 1954).

³⁴ Congressional Globe, 38 Cong., 1 sess., p. 1500.

³⁵ Daily Ohio Statesman (n.d.), quoted in the Dayton Daily Empire, 29 April 1864; Manton Marble to James W. Wall, 30 March 1864, Manton Marble Papers, Library of Congress.

³⁶ Edward C. Kirkland, The Peacemakers of 1864 (New York, 1927), once regarded as a classic, needs considerable revision. Elbert J. Benton, Movement for Peace without Victory during the Civil War (Cleveland, 1919) and J. N. Hofer, “Development of the Peace Movement in Illinois during the Civil War,” Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society 24 (April 1931): 119-28, are also outdated.

³⁷ Testimony of Vallandigham before the Cincinnati Military Commission, 29 March 1865, published in Cincinnati Daily Enquirer, 30 March 1865. At a later date Jacob Thompson claimed that Vallandigham had initiated him into the Sons of Liberty. Historians are faced with the problem of weighing Vallandigham’s word against Thompson’s. Vallandigham was under oath when he testified at Cincinnati and he had a reputation for veracity even with his enemies. Thompson’s reputation, on the other hand, was tarnished by charges of corruption while he was in public office. (Perhaps a word should be said about the Cincinnati Military Commission, before which Vallandigham testified regarding his association with the Sons of Liberty. Early in 1865, the Commission tried a handful of men arrested and accused of being implicated in the “Chicago Conspiracy” or the “Northwest Conspiracy.” It was charged that a group of conspirators wanted to release Confederate prisoners held in Camp Douglas, outside Chicago, overthrow federal authority, and establish a “Northwest Confederacy.” Vallandigham testified willingly, seeing it as a chance to clear himself of reports and rumors that he also was involved. S. Corning Judd, the leader of the Sons of Liberty in Illinois and a well-known Democratic politician, also testified at Cincinnati; his testimony corroborated much of Vallandigham’s.)

³⁸ The four were Dr. John McElwee, David W. Brant, Jacob Troutman, and Edward Dalton. Vallandigham, Vallandigham, p. 352, states that no one in Hamilton or elsewhere knew of the exile’s return until he appeared on the stand at the convention of June 15. An observer and participant, however, refutes this story and lists the four who escorted Vallandigham to Hamilton. See Stephen D. Cone, A Concise History of Hamilton, Ohio, 2 vols. (Middletown, O., 1901), 2: 231.

³⁹ Dayton Daily Empire, 16 June 1864; Cincinnati Daily Commercial, 16 June 1864; Dayton Daily Journal, 16, 17 June 1864; Hamilton True Telegraph, 23 June 1864; Vallandigham, Vallandigham, pp. 352-53; Cone, A Concise History of Hamilton, 2: 230-32.

⁴⁰ Dayton Daily Empire, 16 June 1864.

⁴¹ Ibid.

⁴² Stephen D. Cone, Biographical and Historical Sketches: A Narrative of Hamilton and Its Residents from 1792 to 1896, 2 vols. (Hamilton, O., 1896), 1: 198.

⁴³ Dayton Daily Empire, 16 June 1864.

⁴⁴ Ibid.

⁴⁵ Ibid.

⁴⁶ “Report of William Taylor,” 18 June 1864, in John P. Sanderson Papers, Ohio Historical Society. Taylor was one of a dozen detectives whom Colonel John P. Sanderson sent out to scour the Midwest. Sanderson was General Rosecrans’s provost marshal general in the Department of the Missouri, headquartered in St. Louis.

⁴⁷ Dayton Daily Empire, 17, 18 June 1864; Dayton Daily Journal, 17 June 1864.

⁴⁸ Heintzelman succeeded Burnside in command in the region north of the Ohio River. War Department orders, dated 12 January 1864, brought an end to the old Department of the Ohio, which Burnside had commanded, created the Northern Department (composed of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan), and put Heintzelman in command. These orders listed Columbus rather than Cincinnati as headquarters for the new department.

⁴⁹ Entries 15, 16 June 1864, Samuel P. Heintzelman Papers, Library of Congress.

⁵⁰ Murat Halstead to William Henry Smith, 21 June 1864, William Henry Smith Papers, State Historical Society Library, Indianapolis.

⁵¹ New York Tribune, 17 June 1864.

⁵² Lincoln to Brough and Heintzelman, 20 June 1864, Robert Todd Lincoln Papers, Library of Congress. The envelope contains the endorsement “Not Sent.”

⁵³ Detroit Free Press, 17 July 1864.

⁵⁴ Vallandigham Papers, Western Reserve Historical Society, Cleveland.

⁵⁵ Vallandigham to his brother James, 10 July 1864, published in part in Vallandigham, Vallandigham, p. 364.

⁵⁶ Hamilton True Telegraph, 16 June 1864.

⁵⁷ John P. Sanderson, “Report,” 22 June 1864, Sanderson Papers. This manuscript varies slightly from the draft in the Records of the Office of the Judge Advocate General, National Archives. The latter appears in Official Records, ser. 2, 7: 314-36.

⁵⁸ Space does not allow extensive treatment of this strange story, which Sanderson concocted out of a few facts and much conjecture. An account of the exposé is found in Frank L. Klement, The Copperheads in the Middle West (Chicago, 1960), pp. 175-87.

⁵⁹ Dayton Daily Empire, 29 July 1864; Detroit Free Press, 2 August 1864; Chicago Times, 30 July 1864; New York Journal of Commerce (n.d.), clipping in the Sanderson Papers.