Upon my return from Charleston, South Carolina and my visit to Fort Sumter, I passed on to Mr. Lincoln everything that I had seen and heard in Charleston. The information, I could tell, was not comforting to the president. He paced back and forth in front of me, his hands clasp together behind his back, an action I had seen hundreds of times in the courtrooms of Illinois. I knew not to interrupt.
I had known the man who was president since 1848. I knew that he often asked advice from all those around him, but rarely actually took it. He knew the decision at Charleston rested on his shoulders. He was the president. It was his decision and his alone. He was processing the pros and cons as I watched silently.
I was always amazed by how this man processed information. Thousands of times he asked the advice of the men around him. In court, he sought that input from other lawyers and his law partners. I got the feeling each and every time that it made no difference what that input was. Mr. Lincoln made up his own mind, often in complete opposition to what the majority had told him. Yet more often than not, what he decided on the subject turned out to be the most effective and fair decision.
He continued to march back and forth, negotiating as he did so expertly with others, only this time he appeared to me to be negotiating with himself. He was looking for a way to do what needed to be done while at the same time coming out on top.
It is my humble opinion (and I haven’t been drinking tonight) that before he wore a path in the carpet on the floor, he would figure this whole Fort Sumter out to his advantage.
W. H. Lamon
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