But Lincoln’s lofty dignity on the first of April was of a moment only.  When the Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles, that same day called on him in his offices, he was the easy-going, jovial Lincoln who was always ready half-humorously to take reproof from subordinates—­as was evinced by his greeting to the Secretary.  Looking up from his writing, he said cheerfully, “What have I done wrong?"(22) Gideon Welles was a pugnacious man, and at that moment an angry man.  There can be little doubt that his lips were tightly shut, that a stern frown darkened his brows.  Grimly conscientious was Gideon Welles, likewise prosaic; a masterpiece of literalness, the very opposite in almost every respect of the Secretary of State whom he cordially detested.  That he had already found occasion to protest against the President’s careless mode of conducting business may be guessed—­correctly—­from the way he was received.  Doubtless the very cordiality, the whimsical admission of loose methods, irritated the austere Secretary.  Welles had in his hand a communication dated that same day and signed by the President, making radical changes in the program of the Navy Department.  He had come to protest.

“The President,” said Welles, “expressed as much surprise as I felt, that he had sent me such a document.  He said that Mr. Seward with two or three young men had been there during the day on a subject which he (Seward) had in hand and which he had been some time maturing; that it was Seward’s specialty, to which he, the President, had yielded, but as it involved considerable details, he had left Mr. Seward to prepare the necessary papers.  These papers he had signed, many of them without reading, for he had not time, and if he could not trust the Secretary of State, he knew not whom he could trust.  I asked who were associated with Mr. Seward.  ‘No one,’ said the President, ’but these young men who were here as clerks to write down his plans and orders.’  Most of the work was done, he said, in the other room.

“The President reiterated that they (the changes in the Navy) were not his instructions, though signed by him; that the paper was an improper one; that he wished me to give it no more consideration than I thought proper; to treat it as cancelled, or as if it had never been written.  I could get no satisfactory explanation from the President of the origin of this strange interference which mystified him and which he censured and condemned more severely than myself. . . .  Although very much disturbed by the disclosure, he was anxious to avoid difficulty, and to shield Mr. Seward, took to himself the whole blame.”

Thus Lincoln began a role that he never afterward abandoned.  It was the role of scapegoat Whatever went wrong anywhere could always be loaded upon the President.  He appeared to consider it a part of his duty to be the scapegoat for the whole Administration.  It was his way of maintaining trust, courage, efficiency, among his subordinates.