Still, the murmurs continued. A Virginia congressman, Muscoe Garnett, kept accusing Lincoln of “tyranny,” even though Lincoln had not even arrived yet. While the chaplain was praying, Garnett stormed out, loudly denouncing the proceedings and stamping his feet.
Hauntingly, a reporter in The Times said that the tantrum resembled the histrionics of a famous Shakespearean actor, Junius Booth, celebrated for portraying the title character in “Richard III” (a favorite play of both his son, John Wilkes Booth, and of the incoming president). The younger Booth would play the role 115 times over his career. Lincoln’s love of the play was so profound that he left visitors dazzled by his impromptu performances from memory.
There were reasons Americans felt a special tie to “Richard III,” with its cautionary tale of a cunning schemer, willing to be “subtle, false and treacherous” in his desperate pursuit of power and popularity: Democracy was already turning up demagogues with depressing regularity; Lincoln’s earliest speeches had denounced this defect.
For all of their virtues, the American people were not immune to the charm of would-be autocrats, ready to promise anything. There was no shortage of such types among the leading secessionists, which is why governing the Confederacy proved to be far more difficult than launching it. Lincoln’s rhetorical modesty — he hardly ever referred to himself — was a breath of fresh air after the most overheated decade in memory.
In 1861 as in 2021, the actual documents were important. On Wednesday, quick-thinking staffers grabbed the boxes holding the electoral certificates during the tumult. In 1861, the boxes were preserved as well, despite the fact that they were entrusted to the person most likely to benefit from their destruction.
Each of the state electoral certificates had been duly sent to the president of the Senate — the vice president of the United States, Kentucky’s John C. Breckinridge. Breckinridge was also the defeated candidate in the presidential election, and the one who had carried the hopes of the Deep South. If he had chosen to misplace the certificates, the election might have been thrown into Congress, where Lincoln, as a stranger to Washington, was at a disadvantage.
The crucial moment came when the certificates were delivered from the Senate to the House, where the ceremony was held. Several commentators mentioned how fragile democracy seemed at this moment, with two ordinary boxes holding the hopes of the nation. Many in the room were waiting for a spark — a witness felt “hot treason … seething beneath the quiet exterior.”