At this point began a perplexity that was to torment the President almost to the verge of distraction.  How far could he trust his military advisers?  Old General Scott was at the head of the army.  He had once been a striking, if not a great figure.  Should his military advice be accepted as final?  Scott informed Lincoln that Sumter was short of food and that any attempt to relieve it would call for a much larger force than the government could muster.  Scott urged him to withdraw the garrison.  Lincoln submitted the matter to the Cabinet.  He asked for their opinions in writing.(12) Five advised taking Scott at his word and giving up all thought of relieving Sumter.  There were two dissenters.  The Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon Portland Chase, struck the key-note of his later political career by an elaborate argument on expediency.  If relieving Sumter would lead to civil war, Chase was not in favor of relief; but on the whole he did not think that civil war would result, and therefore, on the whole, he favored a relief expedition.  One member of the Cabinet, Montgomery Blair, the Postmaster General, an impetuous, fierce man, was vehement for relief at all costs.  Lincoln wanted to agree with Chase and Blair.  He reasoned that if the fort was given up, the necessity under which it was done would not be fully understood; that by many it would be construed as part of a voluntary policy, that at home it would discourage the friends of the Union, embolden its adversaries, and go far to insure to the matter a recognition abroad.

Nevertheless, with the Cabinet five to two against him, with his military adviser against him, Lincoln put aside his own views.  The government went on marking time and considering the credentials of applicants for country post-offices.

By this time, Lincoln had thrown off the overpowering gloom which possessed him in the latter days at Springfield.  It is possible he had reacted to a mood in which there was something of levity.  His oscillation of mood from a gloom that nothing penetrated to a sort of desperate mirth, has been noted by various observers.  And in 1861 he had not reached his final poise, that firm holding of the middle way,—–­which afterward fused his moods and made of him, at least in action, a sustained personality.

About the middle of the month he had a famous interview with Colonel W. T. Sherman who had been President of the University of Louisiana and had recently resigned.  Senator John Sherman called at the White House with regard to “some minor appointments in Ohio.”  The Colonel went with him.  When Colonel Sherman spoke of the seriousness of the Secession movement, Lincoln replied, “Oh, we’ll manage to keep house.”  The Colonel was so offended by what seemed to him the flippancy of the President that he abandoned his intention to resume the military life and withdrew from Washington in disgust.(13)