The funeral car was large. The lower base was fourteen feet long and seven feet wide, and eight feet from the ground. The upper base, upon which the coffin rested, was eleven feet long and five feet below the top of the canopy. The canopy was surmounted by a gilt eagle, covered with crape. The hearse was entirely covered with cloth, velvet, crape, and alpaca. The seat was covered with cloth, and on each side was a splendid lamp. The car was fifteen feet high, and the coffin was so placed as to afford a full view to all spectators. It was drawn by six gray horses, each attended by a groom.
The pall-bearers were, on the part of the Senate, Foster, ofConnecticut; Morgan, of New York; Johnson, of Maryland; Yates, ofIllinois; Wade, of Ohio, and Conness, of California. On the partof the House, Davis, of Massachusetts; Coffroth, of Pennsylvania;Smith, of Kentucky; Colfax, of Indiana; Worthington, of Nevada,and Washburne, of Illinois. On the part of the army, Lieutenant-General Grant, Major-General Halleck, and Brigadier-General Nichols.On the part of the navy, Vice-Admiral Farragut, Rear-AdmiralShubrick, and Colonel Jacob Ziellen, of the Marine Corps. Civilians,O. H. Browning, George P. Ashmun, Thomas Corwin, and Simon Cameron.
After the hearse came the family, consisting only of Robert Lincoln and his little brother and their relatives. Mrs. Lincoln did not go out. Next was President Johnson, riding in a carriage with General Auger on the right, and General Slough on the left, mounted. Following him were the Cabinet, Chief Justice Chase and the Supreme Bench, and the Diplomatic Corps, who were then succeeded by Senators and Representatives. The procession then reached two miles more, and was composed of public officers, delegations from various cities and members of civic societies, together with another large display of military. Some five thousand colored men were a prominent feature toward the end.
The procession was two hours and ten minutes in passing a given point, and was about three miles long. The centre of it had reached the Capitol and was returning before the rear had left Willard's. In one single detachment were over six thousand civil employees of the Government. Arriving at the Capitol, the remains were placed in the centre of the rotunda, beneath the mighty dome, which had been draped in mourning inside and out. The Rev. Dr. Gurley, in the presence of hundreds, impressively pronounced the burial service.
President Lincoln's remains were taken from the rotunda at six o'clock on the morning of April 21st, and escorted to the train which was to convey them to Springfield. The remains of little Willie Lincoln, who died in February, 1862, and which had been placed in the vault at Oak Hill Cemetery, were removed to the depot about the same time, and placed in the same car with the remains of his lamented father.
[Facsimile] Andrew Johnson ANDREW JOHNSON was born at Raleigh, North Carolina, December 29th, 1808; was a Representative in Congress from Tennessee, 1843-1853; was Governor of Tennessee, 1853-1857; was a United States Senator from Tennessee from December 7th, 1857, until he was appointed Military Governor of that State; was elected Vice-President of the United States on the Republican ticket with Abraham Lincoln and was inaugurated March 4th, 1865; became President after the assassination of President Lincoln, April 15th, 1865; was impeached and acquitted, May 26th, 1868; was again elected United States Senator from Tennessee, serving at the Special Session of 1875, and died in Carter County, Tennessee, July 31st, 1875.
Andrew Johnson took the oath of office as President of the United States, administered to him by Chief Justice Chase, at his room in the Kirkwood House. He sent word to Mrs. Lincoln to occupy the White House so long as might be agreeable to her, and he accepted the hospitality of Mr. Sam Hooper, a merchant prince, who then represented a Boston district in the House of Representatives, and occupied his own comfortable house at the corner of Fourteenth and H Streets.
Every morning President Johnson went to the Treasury Department, where he received scores of delegations, and his speeches to them foreshadowed a reconstruction policy which would deal severely with the leading Secessionists. In response to Governor Andrew, who called at the head of a delegation of citizen of Massachusetts, and assured him of the support of the Old Bay State, he made a long speech, he defined crimes, saying: "It is time the American people should be taught to understand that treason is a crime—not in revenge, not in anger—but that treason is a crime, and should be esteemed as such, and punished as such."
Mr. Johnson went on to say that he wished "to discriminate between criminals guilty of treason. There are," he said, "well educated, intelligent traitors, who concert schemes of treason and urge others to force numbers of ignorant people to carry them."
Money was lavishly expended in securing the arrest of those who had conspired with Booth to assassinate President Lincoln, Vice- President Johnson, Secretary Seward, and General Grant. In a fortnight the prisoners had been arrested (with the exception of Booth, who having been tracked to a barn, and refusing to come out, had been shot) and a military commission had been organized for their trial in the old penitentiary near the Arsenal, where they were confined. It was clearly shown before the Commission, of which General David Hunter was President and General Joseph Holt the Judge Advocate, that leading Secessionists in Canada had supplied Booth with funds for the abduction of President Lincoln, but there was no proof that they were privy to the assassination.
Booth squandered the money received by him in coal-oil speculations, and in his attention to an estimable young lady, whose photograph was found in his pocket-book after his death, but whose name was honorably kept a secret. Mrs. Surratt naturally attracted the most attention as she entered the room where the Military Commission was held every morning, the iron which connected her ankles clanking as she walked. She was rather a buxom-looking woman, dressed in deep black, with feline gray eyes, which watched the whole proceedings. The evidence showed that she had been fully aware of the plot. Her house was used by Booth, Payne, Atzerott, and Harold as a meeting place. Her son went to Richmond and then to Canada with information, and he had only returned immediately before the assassination. He was in Washington that day and night, and four days later had reached Montreal. She took the arms to Surrattsville, to the tavern which she owned, and the day of the assassination rode out with a team Booth had furnished money to hire, to say that the arms she had left and the field-glass she took would be wanted that night. Payne, after attacking Secretary Seward, and vainly attempting to escape, had called at her house in the night, and sought admittance, but an officer was in charge, and Payne, not having a plausible explanation of his unseasonable call, was arrested. Mrs. Surratt was clearly shown to have been an actor in the plot, but many doubted whether she should have been hung, and regretted that neither her confessor nor her daughter was permitted to see President Johnson and ask his clemency.
The male prisoners, heavily ironed, were seated side by side in a dock interspersed with officers. Sam Arnold was of respectable appearance, about thirty years of age, with dark hair and beard and a good countenance. Spangler, the stage-carpenter, was a chunky, light-haired, rather bloated and whisky-soaked looking man. Atzerott had a decided lager beer look, with heavy blue eyes, light hair, and sallow complexion. O'Laughlin might have been taken for native of Cuba, short and slender, with luxuriant black locks, a delicate moustache and whiskers, and vivacious black eyes. Payne was the incarnation of a Roman gladiator, tall, muscular, defiant, with a low forehead, large blue eyes, thin lips, and black, straight hair, with much of the animal and little of the intellectual. Dave Harold was what the ladies call a pretty little man, with cherry cheeks, pouting lips, an incipient beard, dark hazel eyes, and dark, long hair. Last on the bench was Dr. Mudd, whose ankles and wrists were joined by chains instead of the unyielding bars which joined the bracelets and anklets of the others. He was about sixty years of age, with a blonde complexion, reddish face, and blue eyes.
The prisoners were allowed counsel and such witnesses as they desired to have summoned. The Commission concluded its labors on the 30th of June. On the 5th of July the President approved the finding and sentence, and ordered the hanging of Mrs. Surratt, Harold, Atzerott, and Payne to take place on the 7th. The sentence of execution was carried into effect, and Arnold, Mudd, Spangler, and O'Laughlin were sent to the Military Prison on the Dry Tortugas.
Meanwhile the victorious armies of the Union had been congregated at Washington, where they passed in review before President Johnson and General Grant, and then marched home and into history. On the 23d of May the "Army of the Potomac," and on the 24th the "Division of the Mississippi," swept through the metropolis for hours, the successive waves of humanity crested with gleaming sabres and burnished bayonets, while hundreds of bands made the air ring with patriotic music. Loyal voices cheered and loyal hands applauded as the heroic guardians of the national ark of constitutional liberty passed along. Neither did the legions of imperial Rome, returning in triumph along the Appian Way, or the conquering hosts of Napoleon the Great, when welcomed back from their Italian campaign by the Parisians, or the British Guards, when they returned from the Crimea, receive a more heartfelt ovation than was awarded to the laurel-crowned "Boys in Blue."
Great expectation concerning this review was indulged throughout the nation. This home-coming of the "Boys in Blue" was a matter interesting every hamlet of the North and almost every home. But more than the welcome was clustering about the scene. These grand armies and their famous leaders had become historic, and worthily so, for they had endured and achieved, and victory now was theirs. The newspapers proclaimed the grandeur of the coming event; the railroads extended their best accommodations to travelers, and the people responded in immense numbers. With the soldiery and the civilians, Washington was densely packed, but cheerful enthusiasm appeared on every side.
Two hundred thousand veteran troops, trained on a hundred battlefields, and commanded by the leading Generals of the service, were there to be reviewed by the Lieutenant-General who commanded them all, by the President of the United States, by his Cabinet, by the dignitaries of our own and other nations, and by the innumerable throng of private citizens whose homes had been saved, and whose hearts now beat with grateful joy.
In those proud columns were to march the Army of the Potomac, the Army of the James, the Army of Georgia, the Army of the Tennessee, and the cavalry led by the indomitable Phil. Sheridan. To behold such a spectacle men came from every portion of the North; fathers brought their sons to see this historic pageant, while historians, poets, novelists, and painters thronged to see the unparalleled sight and there to gather material and inspiration for their future works. In that great display were to march heroes whose names will live while history endures.
The night before the review of the Army of the Potomac was wet and dreary enough, but as day dawned the clouds disappeared, and the scene in Maryland Avenue, between the Long Bridge and the Capitol, and on the large plain east of that building, was warlike and interesting. Brigades marching at route step, bivouac fires, around which groups were eating their breakfast, orderly sergeants insisting in very naughty yet impressive language on the use of sand paper on muskets already bright, musicians rehearsing some new march, little boys bracing up drums half as high as themselves, important adjutants riding to and fro to hurry up the formation of their respective regiments, elegantly attired aides-de-camp galloping like mad and endeavoring to avoid mud puddles, batteries thundering along, as if eager to unlimber and fire at some enemy—in short, it was fifty acres, more or less, of uniforms, horses, flags, and bayonets, in apparently inextricable confusion. Yet one man ran the machine. A few words from him reduced confusion to order, and the apparent snarl of humanity and horses began to be unraveled in a single, unbroken line, when General Meade gave the single word, "Forward!" Exactly as the watches marked nine the head of the column moved from the Capitol toward the reviewing stand along Pennsylvania Avenue.
The reviewing stand, erected on the sidewalk in front of the White House, was a long pavilion, with a tight roof, decorated with flags and bearing the names of the principal victories won. In this pavilion were seated the assistant secretaries and heads of bureaus and Diplomatic Corps. President Johnson occupied the central chair in a projection from the centre of the front, with Lieutenant- General Grant, Major-General Sherman, and the members of the Cabinet at his right and left hand.
The reviewing pavilion was flanked by two long stands, occupied by officials, ladies, and wounded soldiers. Opposite the reviewing pavilion was another on the north sidewalk for Congressional and State officials, and on the flanks of this pavilion were others, erected at private expense, for the families of officers on parade and for the citizens of Ohio, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.
The Army of the Potomac was six hours in passing the reviewing stand. As each brigade commander saluted, President Johnson would rise and lift his hat. General Grant sat during the whole time immovable, except that he would occasionally make some commendatory comment as a gallant officer or brave regiment passed. The foreign Ministers appeared deeply impressed by the spectacle.
It was the subject of general regret in the Army of the Potomac that President Lincoln was not there to review those who idolized him. For four long years they had guarded him at the Federal metropolis, often fighting desperately under generals whose ability to command was doubtful. Meanwhile the dandies of McClellan's force had become veteran campaigners, accustomed to the exposure of the bivouac, the fatigue of the march, the poor comfort of hard- tack, the storm of battle, and the suffering of sickness and wounds. They had watched on many a picket line the movements of a wily foe; they paced their weary rounds on guard on many a wet and cheerless night; they had gone through the smoke and breasted the shock and turned the tide of many a hard-fought field.
The Division of the Mississippi, which had swept like a cyclone "from Atlanta to the sea," was reviewed the next day. General Sherman, by granting amnesty to Joe Johnson's army, had incurred the displeasure of Secretary Stanton, who had intended that he should not have headed his victorious legions; but he was not to be separated from his "boys." As he passed along Pennsylvania Avenue the multitude of spectators sent up shouts that must have made his heart leap, and the enthusiasm increased as he approached the Presidential stand. He "rode up with the light of battle in his face," holding his hat and his bridle-rein in his left hand, and saluting with the good sword in his right hand, his eyes fixed upon his Commander-in-Chief. His horse, decked with flowers, seemed to be inspired with the spirit of the occasion, and appeared anxious to "keep step to the music of the Union."
After passing the President, General Sherman wheeled to the left, dismounted, and joined the reviewing party, where he was greeted by Governor Dennison. He shook hands cordially with President Johnson and General Grant, but when Secretary Stanton advanced with outstretched hand he remarked, "I do not care to shake hands with clerks," and turned away. Never was there a more complete "cut direct" than was given by the central figure of that grand pageant, whose brain and hand had guided this vast multitude of stalwart braves, leading them to victory, glory, and final triumph.
The troops displayed a fine physique, and had apparently profited from their foraging among the fat turkeys of Georgia. Their faces were finely bronzed, and they marched with a firm, elastic step that seemed capable of carrying them straight to Canada, or by a flank movement to Mexico, in a short space of time.
Any representation of Sherman's army would have been incomplete which omitted the notorious "Bummers." At the end of each corps appeared the strangest huddle of animation, equine, canine, bovine, and human, that ever civilian beheld—mules, asses, horses, colts, cows, sheep, pigs, goats, raccoons, chickens, and dogs led by negroes blacker then Erebus. Every beast of burden was loaded to its capacity with tents, baggage, knapsacks, hampers, panniers, boxes, valises, kettles, pots, pans, dishes, demijohns, bird-cages, cradles, mirrors, fiddles, clothing, pickaninnies, and an occasional black woman.
In effect Sherman gave a sample of his army as it appeared on the march through the Carolinas. Some of the negroes appeared to have three days' rations in their ample pouches, and ten days' more on the animals they led. The fraternity was complete; the goats, dogs, mules, and horses were already veterans in the field, and trudged along as if the brute world were nothing but a vast march with a daily camp. Thus were we shown how Sherman was enabled to live upon the enemy.
[Facsimile] Yours truly John A. Logan JOHN A. LOGAN was born in Jackson County, Illinois, February 9th, 1826; studied and practiced law; was a member of the State Legislature; was a Representative from Illinois, 1859-1861; was commissioned in September, 1861, Colonel of the Thirty-first Illinois Volunteers; was promoted to Brigadier-General in 1862, and Major-General in 1863, especially distinguishing himself at Belmont, Fort Donelson, Pittsburgh Landing, Vicksburg, Chattanooga, Atlanta, and as commander of the Army of the Tennessee; was Congressman-at-Large from Illinois, 1867-1871; was United States Senator from Illinois, 1871-1877, again in 1883, and was re-elected in 1885, for six years.
President Johnson was by nature and temperament squarely disposed toward justice and the right, but he could not resist the concerted appeals made to him by the dominant whites at the South. Early in May, rules were issued governing trade with the States lately in rebellion, but in June these restrictions were removed, and there rapidly followed executive orders restoring Virginia to her federal relations, establishing provisional governments in the Southern States, and granting a general amnesty to all persons engaged in the Rebellion, except certain classes, who could receive pardon by special application. These acts speedily alienated the President from the party whose votes elected him, but he was always "sure he was right, even in his errors."
Andrew Johnson's daily life as President was a very simple one. He arose promptly at six o'clock in the morning, read the newspapers, and breakfasted with his family at eight. Going into the executive office at nine, he remained there until four in the afternoon, devoting himself to conferences with Cabinet officers, his official correspondence, and the reception of visitors when he had leisure. At four o'clock he went into his family sitting-room, dined at five, and after dinner took a walk or a carriage-drive. From nine until eleven he received visitors, and then retired for the night. He had a few favorites who went into his room without being announced.
Prominent among them was Mr. S. P. Hanscom, of Massachusetts, who had been in early life a prominent Abolitionist and temperance lecturer. During the Johnson Administration Mr. Hanscom edited the WashingtonRepublican, and obtained office for applicants for a pecuniary consideration. When Mr. Buffington refused to pay the stipulated fee for his appointment, Mr. Hanscom published a handbill, in which he unblushingly related the circumstances and denounced the ex-Congressman for breach of faith. Mr. Hanscom spent the large income which he received for office brokerage very freely. He was kind to the poor and a generous friend, but he died a few years afterward in reduced circumstances.
Jefferson Davis, the leader of the conquered Confederacy, had been brought from Georgia, where he was captured, and imprisoned at Fortress Monroe. He occupied the inner apartment of a casemate, with a guard in the outer apartment and sentries posted on the outside at the porthole and at the door. He became naturally somewhat irascible, and orders having been sent to put him in irons if he gave any provocation, he one day gave it by throwing a tin plate of food which he did not fancy into the face of the soldier who had served him.
Captain Titlow, who was especially charged with the custody of Mr. Davis, and who is the authority for this statement, was accordingly ordered by the Commandant of the fort to place his prisoner in irons. Summoning a blacksmith who was in the habit of riveting irons on soldiers sentenced by court-martial to wear them, the Captain went to the casemate, accompanied by the blacksmith carrying the fetters and his tools. They found Mr. Davis seated on his cot, there being no other furniture besides but a stool and a few articles of tinware. When he glanced at the blacksmith and comprehended the situation, he exclaimed: "My God! this indignity to be put on me! Not while I have life." At first he pleaded for opportunity to inquire of Secretary Stanton. Then his excitement rose to fury as he walked the cell, venting himself in almost incoherent ravings. The Captain at length calmly reminded him that as a soldier he must be aware that however disagreeable the duty assigned, it must be performed, and that, as in duty bound, he should perform it.
"None but a dog would obey such orders," replied Mr. Davis, emphasizing his determination never to be manacled alive by grasping the stool and aiming a very vicious blow. The sentries rushed forward to disarm him, but were ordered back into their places. Captain Titlow explained that such demonstrations of self-defense were foolish and useless, and that it would be much better for Mr. Davis to submit to the inevitable necessity. But while receiving this advice, Davis took the opportunity of grasping the musket of one of the sentries, and in the furious endeavor to wrest it from him, quite a scuffle ensued.
That ended, the Captain took the precaution of clapping his hand on his sword-hilt, as he perceived Mr. Davis' eye was upon it, and at once ordered the corporal of the guard to send into the casemate four of his strongest men without side arms, as he feared they might get into the wrong possession and cause damage. They were ordered to take the prisoner as gently as possible, and, using no unnecessary force, to lay him upon the cot and there hold him down. It proved about as much as four men could do, the writhings and upheavings of the infuriated man developing the strength of a maniac, until it culminated in sheer exhaustion. When the unhappy task was done Mr. Davis, after lying still for awhile, raised himself and sat on the side of the bed.
As his feet touched the floor and the chain clanked he was utterly overcome; the tears burst out in a flood. When he became calm he apologized in a manly way to the Captain for the needless trouble he had caused him, and they afterward maintained mutual relations of personal esteem and friendliness. The indignity had, however, such an effect upon Mr. Davis that the physician called in insisted on the removal of the irons. Permission to do this was reluctantly obtained from Washington, and the same man who had put on the fetters took them off.
This act did much to restore the deposed leader of the Rebellion to the foremost place, which he had forfeited, in the hearts of those who had rebelled. The imperious manner in which Mr. Davis had dictated the military operations of the Confederacy, placing his personal favorites in command, and his inglorious flight from Richmond, which was burned and plundered by the Confederates, while the fugitive "President" carried away a large sum in gold, had increased the feeling of dissatisfaction which had always existed in "Dixie" with Mr. Davis. But when he was ironed and otherwise subjected to harsh treatment, the Southern heart was touched, and every white man, woman, and child felt that they were, through him, thus harshly dealt with. The manacling of Mr. Davis delayed the work of reconstruction for years, and did much to restore the feeling of sectional hatred which fair fighting had overcome.
John Pierpont, the veteran parson-poet, came to Washington as the chaplain to Henry Wilson's regiment, but he found himself unable to endure the hardships of camp life, and Senator Sherman obtained a clerkship in the Treasury for him. When he reached his eightieth birthday, in 1866, he was told in the evening that a few friends had called, and on entering the parlor to greet them he was entirely surprised. One presented him with a gold watch, another with a valuable cane, and another with a large photograph-album containing the portraits of old Boston friends and parishioners. But the most valuable gift was a large portfolio filled with autograph letters of congratulation in poetry and prose from Sumner, Wilson, Mr. Sigourney, Whittier, Wood, Dana, Holmes, Whipple, and other prominent authors, with other letters signed Moses Williams, Gardner Brewer, William W. Clapp, and other "solid men of Boston." All old differences of opinion were forgotten and due honor was paid to the poet, the priest, the emancipationist, and the temperance reformer of "Auld Lang Syne."
Those who were encouraging the President in his opposition to the reconstruction policy of Congress, with others who had received or who expected to obtain Federal offices, got up at Philadelphia what was known as the "Bread and Butter Convention," at which the Union "as it was" was advocated. Soon afterward, President Johnson with Secretaries Seward and Welles, with General Grant and others, set out for Chicago to attend the ceremonies of laying the corner-stone of the monument to Stephen A. Douglas. It was this political pilgrimage that gave rise to the well-known expression, "swinging round the circle." The President spoke very freely of his policy in the different places on the route, openly denouncing Congress and saying many things that were decidedly inconsistent with the dignity of his position, and unquestionably injurious to him.
Senator Sumner was married at Boston on the 17th of October, 1866, by Bishop Eastman, to Mrs. Alice Hooper, a daughter of Jonathan Mason and the widow of Samuel Sturges Hooper, only son of Representative Sam Hooper. Mr. Sumner was then in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and had never before been a victim to the tender passion. Almost every day through the preceding session Mrs. Hooper had occupied a seat in the gallery directly behind him, and had appeared engrossed in his words and actions. They saw a good deal of each other at Mrs. Hooper's, where Mr. Sumner became a daily visitor, and on the last day of the session he announced his engagement to his friends.
The newly married couple passed their honeymoon at Newport, accompanied by the bride's young daughter. He finished a letter there to a friend by quoting from theSpectator, and saying: "I shall endeavor to live hereafter suitably to a man in my station, as a prudent head of a family, a good husband, a careful father (when it shall so happen), and as your most sincere friend, C. SUMNER."
The bridegroom little thought that these dreams of domestic happiness would never be realized, and that in a few months his life would be embittered by his great family trouble, which the world never guessed, much less knew, but which turned his love for his wife into hatred, and his hopes for handing his name to posterity into unforgiving anger. Senator and Mrs. Sumner, when they came to Washington after their marriage, occupied a handsomely furnished house on I Street. Mrs. Sumner at once manifested a fondness for "society," often insisting on remaining at receptions until a late hour, when he had unfinished Senatorial work on his desk that would have to be completed on his return home.
President Johnson suffered by his undue kindness to pardon-brokers, prominent among whom as a good-looking young woman named Mrs. Cobb. She was a constant visitor at the White House, and boasted that she could obtain pardons in six hours for a proper pecuniary consideration. Detective Baker worked up a fictitious case for the purpose of entrapping her. She agreed, in writing, for three hundred dollars, to obtain the pardon of a Captain Hine, receiving one hundred dollars cash down, the rest to be paid when the pardon was delivered. After the pardon was signed by President Johnson, Detective Baker laid the papers before him, upon which the President grew very angry, and finally ordered Detective Baker from the White House. Mrs. Cobb and her friends insisted that it was a "put-up" job, and the Grand Jury indicted Detective Baker, but the case was never brought to trial.
When Congress met in December, 1866, Representative James M. Ashley, of the Toledo district of Ohio, commenced operations as chief impeacher of President Johnson. He had begun life at an early age as a clerk on a trading-boat on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, driving sharp bargains with the plantation darkies on the banks, in the exchange of cheap jewelry and gay calicoes for cotton and eggs. Next he undertook to learn the art and mystery of printing, studying law meanwhile, and finally located at Toledo as the editor of a Democratic paper. He was not a success as an editor, and went from the sanctum into a drug-store, where he put up prescriptions "at all hours of the night." Joining the Republican party in its infancy, he obtained an election to Congress, but failed to create any sensation until he mounted the hobby of impeachment, which enabled him to advertise himself extensively, and without expense. He was a rather short, fat man, with a clean-shaven face, and a large shock of bushy, light hair, which he kept hanging over his forehead like a frowsy bang threatening to obstruct his vision. He passed much of his time in perambulating the aisles of the House, holding short conferences with leading Republicans, and casting frequent glances into the ladies' gallery. A man of the lightest mental calibre and most insufficient capacity, he constituted himself the chief impeacher, and assumed a position that should have been held by a strong-nerved, deep-sighted, able man.
The Supreme Court, on the last day of 1866, presented to the Radicals an unacceptable New Year's present in the shape of a decision on the legality of military commissions. The case was that of Lamden P. Milligan, who had been sentenced to death, and on whose appeal for setting aside his trial there had been a division of opinion between the Judges of the Circuit Court of the United States for the District of Indiana. The Supreme Court was unanimous in deciding that no authority existed in the State of Indiana for the trial of Milligan by a Military Commission, and that he was entitled to the discharge prayed for in his petition, his case coming within the strict letter of the law of Congress, passed in 1863, authorizing the suspension of the writ ofhabeas corpus. On the question whether Congress had a right to legalize military commissions in States where the authority and action of the established courts was unimpeded for the trial of civilians, there was a disagreement. Five of the judges held the affirmative, and four the negative. This decision made the leading Radicals very angry, and Thad. Stevens undertook to prepare a bill to remodel the court. Public opinion generally rejoiced at the suppression of unjust tribunals "organized to convict."
[Facsimile] Edwin MStanton SecofWar EDWIN McMASTERS STANTON was born at Steubenville, Ohio, December 19th, 1814; was graduated at Kenyon College in 1834; practiced law at Steubenville and afterward at Pittsburg; was Attorney-General under President Buchanan, December, 1860 - March, 1861; was Secretary of War under President Lincoln and Johnson, January, 1860 - May, 1868; was appointed Associate Justice of the Supreme Court by President Grant, and the appointment was promptly confirmed by the Senate, but before the commission was issued he died, December 24th, 1869.
When President Johnson occupied the White House he was joined by the ladies of his family. Mrs. Johnson had been an invalid for twenty years, and although she could not go into society on account of her ill-health, her pride was amply gratified in the advancement of her husband, whom she had taught to read when he was a village tailor and had won her heart. Her only appearance in public at the White House was at a party given to her grand-children. She then remained seated, and as the young guests were presented to her she would say, "My dears, I am an invalid," which was fully proven by her careworn, pale face, and her sunken eyes.
Mrs. Patterson, the President's eldest daughter, was the wife of David T. Patterson, who was elected United States Senator from Tennessee soon after Mr. Johnson became President. She had been educated where so many daughters of the South have been, at the Academy of the Visitation in Georgetown, and while her father was in the Senate she had remained there, spending her weekly holidays with President Polk's family in the White House. There she met Mrs. Madison, the Blairs, Lees, and other old families of Washington, many of whom, in later years, gladly welcomed her return to Washington. She was thus early introduced into Washington social life, and the people who imagined that Andrew Johnson's family were to prove a millstone about his neck forgot that Martha Patterson was his daughter. When some of the leaders of Washington society undertook to call at the White House and tender their patronage, Mrs. Patterson quietly remarked to them: "We are a plain people from the mountains of East Tennessee, called here for a short time by a national calamity, but we know our position and shall maintain it." Mrs. Storer was President Johnson's other daughter, and the widowed mother of young children. A son, Robert Johnson was very dear to his father, but Mrs. Patterson was his favorite child, as she possessed his mental characteristics.
In the great struggle which ensued between the President and Congress, the Senate was really under the leadership of Roscoe Conkling, although Sumner, Fessenden, and Wade, each regarded himself as the head of the Republicans in the Upper House. Mr. Conkling was at that time a type of manly beauty. Tall, well made, with broad shoulders and compact chest and an erect carriage, he was always dressed with scrupulous neatness, wearing a dark frock- coat, light-colored vest and trousers, with gaiters buttoned over his shoes. His nose was large and prominent, his eyes of a bluish- gray hue, surmounted by heavy dark auburn eyebrows, his side whiskers curled closely, and his hair ran down with a sharp point into the middle of his broad, bald forehead, where it rose in a curl. His language was elegant, and when he spoke on the floor every word was clearly enunciated, while slow and deliberate gestures lent effect to what he said. At times, when his features would light up with animation, his deep nostrils would quiver and lengthen into the expression of scorn, which would often lash an opponent into fury. His manner toward strangers was at times dictatorial, but his personal friends worshiped him, and they have never thrown off their allegiance.
Oliver P. Morton, the "War Governor" of Indiana, entered the Senate in time to take a prominent part in resisting the arrogant claims of President Johnson. He had found it difficult to ascend from the vale of poverty, but with indomitable energy he had overcome all obstacles. The promptness, the vigor, and thorough manner with which he discussed every question upon which he took hold soon won him the respect of his associates, to which was added their sympathy, caused by his physical condition. Possessed of an extraordinary physique and an iron constitution, he gradually lost the use of his lower limbs without a murmur, and after he was hopelessly crippled he moved about on his canes with a herculean effort. He spoke with great power, his penetrating eyes flashing with patriotism as he plead the cause of the emancipated, or flashing with anger as with withering denunciation and sarcasm he denounced their oppressors. His mind was especially utilitarian and his speeches were more remarkable for common sense than for the flowers of rhetoric or the brilliancy or oratory. With indomitable perseverance and pluck he possessed a large heart, and his charities were freely given.
George F. Edmunds, of Vermont, was another Senator who took his seat in time to participate in the great contest with President Johnson, in which the fruits of the war were at stake. He was not a college graduate, yet few men have acquired a broader culture from contact with men and the study of books. Tall and spare in figure, his bald head and flowing white beard gave him a resemblance to the classic portrait of St. Jerome, but, unlike that portrait, his head is dome-shaped, symmetrical, while his temples are wide apart and full between. He debates a question in a clear, half- conversational manner, occasionally indulging in a dash of sarcasm which makes those Senators who are the objects of it wince. What he says goes into theCongressional Recordwithout any revision or correction, although many other members of Congress pass a deal of time in revising, polishing, and correcting the reports of their remarks. Invaluable in opposition and almost irresistible in assault, Senator Edmunds has always been regarded by the Republicans in the Senate as their "tower of strength" when the political horizon was overcast.
Zach Chandler, the merchant-Senator from Michigan, who was attaining high rank in the Republican councils, was justly proud of his business standing as a dry-goods dealer in Detroit, and he used to narrate how, when almost every business man there failed, in 1837, he could not see his way clear to the settlement of his own liabilities. He made a statement of his affairs, and, taking what money he could raise, went to New York and proposed to his creditors there to make an assignment. His principal creditor said to him: "You are too straightforward a man and too honest and enterprising a merchant to go under. You can take your own time for payment, and we will furnish you with a new stock of goods." The young merchant accepted the extension of time, and, going home, went to work again and was soon able to pay all his debts in full.
Senator Anthony, of Rhode Island, was a model Senator. Endowed by nature with a gracious presence, integrity, and good sense, what he had to say on any question was always listened to with attention on both sides of the Senate Chamber. He excelled in the felicitous eulogies which he was called upon to deliver over departed associates. "The shaft of Death, Mr. President," said he on one of these occasions, "has been buried in this Chamber of late with fearful frequency, sparing neither eminence nor usefulness nor length of service. No one can predict where it will next strike, whose seat will next be vacated. With our faces to the setting sun, we tread the declining path of life, and the shadows lengthen and darken behind us. The good, the wise, the brave fall before our eyes, but the Republic survives. The stream of events flows steadily on, and the agencies that seemed to direct and control its current, to impel or to restrain its force, sink beneath its surface, which they disturb scarcely by a ripple."
Senator Nye, of Nevada—Jim Nye—sat for years at the right hand of Charles Sumner in the United States Senate, and used to delight in making comments on what transpired in language that was not agreeable to the fastidious Senator from Massachusetts, who would listen in a stately embarrassment which was delightful to Nye to witness, not wishing to show any offense, and yet thoroughly disgusted. Nye wasn't particularly witty in debate, and the speeches of Proctor Knott, McCreery, or Sam Cox were funnier than his; neither had he any Senatorial dignity whatever. He had, in its place, a vast store of humor and genial humanity—better articles, that brought him in love all that he lost in respect. He had more humor than wit, although many of his good things possessed the sharp scintillations of the last-mentioned article, as when Horace Greeley sat down on the Senator's new hat, and Nye, picking up the crushed stove-pipe, said, gravely, "I could have told you it wouldn't fit before trying it on." He had little or no literary culture, read few books, and never troubled others with his convictions, if he had any, which was doubtful. He was a Falstaff of the nineteenth century, and it could be said of him, as Prince Hal said of his boon companion, "We could better spare a better man."
Mr. Elihu B. Washburne was the "Father of the House," and the man who had brought forward General Grant at a time when the Republic was sorely in need of such a man. Thad Stevens ruled the weak- kneed Republicans with a rod of iron, and never hesitated about engaging in a political intrigue that would benefit the party, as he understood its mission. Benjamin F. Butler was another power in the House, who delighted to engage in a debate, with copious invective interlinings, and who was more feared on the Republican side of the House than on the Democratic. And then there was Oakes Ames, a blunt, honest man, whose perceptions of right and wrong were not cloaked, but who placed his "Credit Mobilier" shares "where they would do the most good."
In the House of Representatives, Mr. Speaker Colfax presided in rather a slap-dash-knock-'em-down-auctioneer style, greatly at variance with the decorous dignity of his predecessors, and he was ever having an eye to the nomination for Vice-President in 1869. The most popular man in the House was unquestionably James G. Blaine, who exercised a fascination over all, and whose occasional speeches were marked by their purity of style, their terseness, and the strength of their arguments. His then graceful as well as powerful figure, his strong features, glowing with health, and his hearty, honest manner, made him an attractive speaker and an esteemed friend. Whatever might be said about some of his railroad speculations, no one ever lisped a syllable against his private character, nor was there in Washington a more devoted husband, a more affectionate father, or a kinder friend.
Once, when Mr. Tucker, of Virginia, was addressing the House, Mr. Blaine rose and questioned him concerning the accuracy of his statements. Mr. Tucker's reply implied that he doubted Mr. Blaine's ability to pass correct judgment on legal subjects, as that gentleman was not a lawyer. Blaine's memory enabled him to rejoin by reminding the distinguished member from Virginia of some egregious blunder committed by Mr. Tucker when filling the Attorney-Generalship of the Old Dominion, and he concluded by saying that if the commission of such a mistake was the result of being a lawyer, he, at least, congratulated himself on not belonging to the legal fraternity. Mr. Tucker thereupon said that his honorable friend from Maine reminded him of the Pharisee in the parable, apparently thanking his Deity for having created him unlike—"You," broke in Mr. Blaine, who had seated himself in the semicircle immediately in front of Mr. Tucker's desk. This telling interruption was greeted with roars of laughter, which completely drowned further remarks from the Virginian, most noted as a constitutional lawyer and as a wit.
A high tribute to Mr. Blaine's personal ability and popularity was paid in his election as Speaker of three successive Congresses, covering a period from March 4th, 1869, to March 4th, 1875. On the latter date, when by party changes it had become evident that a Democratic Speaker would succeed him, Mr. Blaine made a neat valedictory in adjourning the session, and as he declared the adjournment and dropped his gavel, a scene of tumultuous enthusiasm ensued. The crowded assemblage, floor and galleries, rose and greeted him with repeated salvos of applause, running in waves from side to side, with almost delirious cheering, clapping of hands, and waving of handkerchiefs. Fully five minutes, it seemed, he was detained, bowing and acknowledging with emotion, this tribute to the record he had made, and for full half an hour afterward there poured toward his standing place, at the clerk's desk, a constant stream of members and citizens anxious to press his hand and express in words the admiration already shown in signs. None who were there can forget the impression made by this scene.
Fernando Wood, of New York, was the best known man on the Democratic side of the House, nor was there a bureau official in the War Department who had such a military deportment. Tall, spare, erect, with clothes of faultless fit and closely buttoned to the chin, his hair cut short and his face cleanly shaven, with the exception of a heavy white moustache, he was the beau ideal of a colonel of the Old Guard. His manners were as courtly as were those of Lord Chesterfield, while his features were as immovable and emotionless as were those of Talleyrand. In his earlier days "Fernandy Wud" was identified with the lowest element of New York politics, and his political reputation was so unsavory that his own party twice, when opportunity offered, refused to elect him Speaker, a place to which he was entitled by seniority. On several occasions he was denounced virulently in debate, but he stood up "like a little man" and faced his assailants with features as imperturbable as if they were carved from marble. Mr. Wood's ambition was to be chosen Speaker when the revolutions of Fortune's wheel would again give the Democratic party the ascendency. This prompted him to entertain very liberally, and he used to receive many promises of support, but when the caucus was held, he never received over half a dozen votes.
[Facsimile] HBAnthony HENRY BOWEN ANTHONY was born at Coventry, Rhode Island, April 1st, 1815; was editor ofThe Providence Journal; was Governor of Rhode Island, 1849-1850; was United States Senator, 1859, until his death at Providence, Rhode Island, September 2d, 1884.
The New Year's reception at the White House, at the opening of 1866, was marked by the absence of volunteer officers in uniform, who had, since the breaking out of the war, always been present in large numbers. The East Room was not thrown open, but the suite of drawing-rooms, which had been re-decorated and newly furnished, were much admired. The traditional colors of scarlet, blue, and green had been preserved, but the walls had been painted with gilt moldings, and the furniture was far more elegant than was that which it had replaced. There was also a profusion of rare flowers from the conservatory.
The President received in the Blue Drawing-room, and it was a subject of general remark that age and official perplexities were evidently leaving their traces on his features, but he had lost none of his determined, defiant looks. During the more ceremonious part of the reception his two daughters stood near him. Mrs. Stover wore a rich black silk dress, with a basque of the same material, both being embroidered with violet-colored wreaths and trimmed with bugles. Mrs. Patterson wore a similar dress and basque, embroidered in white. Both ladies wore lace collars and had natural flowers in their hair.
The privileged guests began to arrive at eleven o'clock, the Diplomatic Corps taking precedence. They wore the official costumes of their respective courts, with the exception of Mr. De Romero, the Mexican Envoy, who was attired in a plain black suit. Sir Frederick Bruce and Mr. De Berthemy, the bachelor representatives of Great Britain and of France, were naturally objects of attraction to the ladies. M. Tassara, the Spanish Minister, and Baron Von Geroldt, the Prussian Minister, were accompanied by their wives, as was young M. De Bodisco, who represented Russia as Chargè d'Affaires. The South Americans were famously bedizened with embroideries, and nearly all of the Ministers, Secretaries, and attaches wore the broad ribbons of some order of merit across their right shoulders, or crosses upon their breasts. Some of them sported at least a dozen of these honorary decorations.
The Cabinet officers with their ladies next entered, and after them came the commanding figure of Chief Justice Chase, followed by the Justices of the Supreme Court and the local Judges. Members of Congress came next in order, but there were not many present. Assistant Secretaries, heads of bureaus, and chief clerks followed; and then, the band striking up the "Red, White, and Blue," Admiral Radford entered with a large party of naval officers, among them Admirals Davis and Stribling, with Colonel Ziellen and the other officers of marines stationed in Washington, all in full uniform.
"Hail to the Chief" announced General Grant, who was attended by Adjutant-General Thomas, Quartermaster-General Meigs, Paymaster- General Brice, Surgeon-General Barnes, and some fifty or sixty officers of lower grade, all in full uniform, and many of them who only performed bureau duty were arrayed in epaulettes and embroidery of the most stunning description. This comprised the official presentations, and many of those above named were accompanied by ladies, elegantly attired in full morning costumes, some of which, worn by the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps, were very elegant.
At twelve o'clock the officials took their leave, and the people were admitted. For two hours did a living tide of humanity surge through the rooms, each man, woman, and child being presented and shaking hands with the President as they passed him. There was almost every conceivable variety of dress, and every part of the country, with many foreign lands, was represented. A more promiscuous company had never yet attended a White House reception, than that which gathered on this occasion. But one colored man sought an introduction to the "Moses" of his race, and he was civilly treated by the President and those in attendance.
The reception at the house of General Grant was crowded. Among the other visitors was Hon. Sam Hooper, the merchant Representative from Boston, who handed the General a letter signed by himself and forty-nine other "solid men of Boston," presenting a library of well-selected books, which had cost five thousand dollars.
George Bancroft's eulogy on Abraham Lincoln attracted crowds to the hall of the House of Representatives. The occasion was indeed a memorable one, equaled only by the exercises in the old hall on the last day of 1834, when that "Old Man Eloquent" of Massachusetts, John Quincy Adams, occupied nearly three hours in the delivery of his grand oration on Lafayette, which covered the history of the preceding half century. Henry Clay, who was on that occasion Chairman of the Joint Committee of Arrangements on the part of the Senate, had ten years before, as Speaker of the House, welcomed Lafayette as the nation's guest. Mr. Adams, in eloquently alluding to this impressive scene, said that few of those who received Lafayette were alive to shed the tear of sorrow upon his departure from this earthly scene. Neither was there a member of Congress who joined in the memorial exercises to Lafayette to pay a farewell to Lincoln. There were a few present who heard the orator eulogize Jackson, and a few more who were present at the impressive funeral services of John Quincy Adams, who had fallen at his post in that glorious old hall, in which his voice, like that of John the Baptist, had proclaimed
"The coming of the glory of the Lord."
An incessant rain did not detract in the least from an immense attendance at the Capitol, although no one was admitted without a ticket. Notwithstanding the precautions taken, over three hundred tickets were issued beyond the utmost capacity of the House galleries, which were literally packed long before the ceremonies commenced. The audience, seemingly, was as select as it was large, and the attendance of many ladies gave to the occasion as brilliant and fascinating an interest as did the distinguished guests on the floor of the House. The hall was appropriately draped in mourning over the Speaker's chair and at other points.
Prominent on the front seats of the ladies' gallery were Mrs. General Grant, Mrs. Patterson and Mrs. Stover (the President's daughters), Mrs. Daniel Webster, Mrs. Admiral Dahlgren, and others equally famed in society. The floor of the House was divided into sections for the reception of the distinguished guests. All of the dignitaries were duly announced by the Sergeant-at-Arms as they appeared in a body at the main door of the hall. The House rose in compliment as they entered, and remained standing until the guests were duly seated. The Diplomatic Corps, with the exception of the French Minister and the Mexican Minister, were present in full force. Sir Frederick Bruce, the Spanish Minister, and the Russian Minister, occupied the front row of seats of the section assigned to the Diplomatic Corps. Lieutenant-General Grant sat in company with Admiral Shubrick, in front of the large delegation from the army and navy. There was a buzz in the hall and a quiet laugh as General Butler entered and unconsciously took a seat immediately behind General Grant; neither greeted the other. In the rear of General Butler General John A. Logan was sandwiched with General Holt and John Minor Botts.
At noon Sergeant-at-Arms Ordway entered bearing the official mace, and he was followed by Mr. Speaker Colfax. A rap from the Speaker's gavel brought the assembly to order, and a solemn and very appropriate prayer was offered by Mr. Chaplain Boynton. The journal of the last day's session was then read, followed by a letter from Secretary Seward apologizing for his absence.
The hum of conversation again echoed around the galleries, with the craning of fair necks and the peering of bright, curious eyes as the ladies sought to see who were there and what was worn. At ten minutes after twelve the doorkeeper announced the Senate of the United States. Mr. Speaker Colfax repeated the announcement with the familiar raps of the gavel, which on this occasion brought all on the floor to their feet. Sergeant-at-Arms Brown led the way, then came Mr. Foster, Presidentpro tempore, with Chief Clerk McDonald, and then came the Senators, two and two, who took seats on either side of the main aisle.
The inner half-circle of chairs was as yet unoccupied. President Foster, receiving the gavel from Speaker Colfax, said: "Please be seated," and a rap was again obeyed. A few moments elapsed, during which the occupants of the galleries had time to scan the countenances of the eloquent guardians of the Union and champions of freedom, whose voices had been and might again be heard as a battle-cry in the dark days of our eventful history.
The President of the United States was announced, and the audience rose to receive the Chief Magistrate. He was attired in simple black, and as he passed between the Senators down to the front seat reserved for him, escorted by Senator Foote, he reminded one of Webster and of Douglas, so immovable was the expression of his massive, resolute, determined features. The President took his seat directly opposite the Speaker, and the seats at his right hand were occupied by Secretaries McCulloch, Stanton, Welles, Harlan, Postmaster-General Dennison, and Attorney-General Speed. Secretary Seward's health was so precarious that it did not permit him to be present.
Mr. Bancroft entered with the President and was escorted to the clerk's table, on which a reading-desk had been placed for his use. Before taking his seat he shook hands with President Foster and Mr. Speaker Colfax, who sat side by side at the Speaker's table, directly behind the orator.
The Supreme Court was next announced, and all rose to pay homage to the majesties of the law. They wore their silk robes and took the front row of seats on the President's left hand in the following order: Chief Justice Chase, Justices Wayne, Nelson, Clifford, Swayne, Miller, Davis, and Fields. Justice Grier's recent family bereavement kept him away.
Just after the Supreme Court was seated the President and Justice Clifford rose, advanced toward each other, and cordially shook hands. This made it twenty minutes past twelve, and, as all were present, Major French, the Commissioner of Public Buildings, gave a signal, and the Marine Band performed, with impressive effect, theMiserere, from the opera "Il Trovatore." The Chaplain of the House, Rev. Dr. Boynton, made a most orthodox and righteous introductory prayer, after with Hon. Lafayette S. Foster, in a brief but eloquent address, introduced the orator of the day.
Mr. Bancroft was received, on rising, with hearty applause, and he commenced the delivery of his address in a clear, loud, and distinct tone of voice, heard in every part of the hall. He held his printed address in his left hand, and his sincerity and ability compensated for the absence of oratorical grace. His was the simplicity of faith rather than the simplicity of art, and by easy and rapid transitions it occasionally rose to bold and manly enthusiasm. The oration occupied two hours and thirty minutes, and at certain points was most rapturously applauded. The allusions by the orator to Great Britain's harboring rebel vessels during the war, and to the insignificance of Palmerston in comparison to Lincoln, did not seem to be well received by the British Minister, and his uneasiness was very manifest when the House thundered with repeated applause at the mention of the names of John Bright and Richard Cobden. On the other hand, the Russian Minister blushed at the continued applause and the thousands of eyes bent on him as Bancroft alluded to the unwavering sympathy of Russia with the United States during the late war. Baron Stoeckel congratulated the orator after the ceremonies were over.
When Mr. Bancroft had concluded, and the President and the Senate, with other invited guests, had retired, Mr. Washburne offered a joint resolution of thanks to Mr. Bancroft, copied almostverbatimfrom that passed when John Quincy Adams delivered the oration on Lafayette. When the address was printed Mr. Bancroft insisted on having the title-page state that it had been delivered before "the Congress of America," instead of "the Congress of the United States of America."
[Facsimile] Winfd S. Hancock WINFIELD SCOTT HANCOCK, born near Norristown, Pa., February 14th, 1824; graduated at West Point in 1844; served on the frontier, in the Mexican and Florida Wars, and in California; Brigadier-General of Volunteers, September 23d, 1861; Major-General of Volunteers, November 20th, 1862; commander of Second Corps, May, 1863; wounded at Gettysburg, July 3d, 1863; returned to his command and fought to the end of the war; Major-General of the regular army, July, 1866; commanded various military divisions; candidate for Presidency of the United States, 1880; died at Governor's Island, New York, February 9th, 1886.
The gulf between President Johnson and Congress gradually widened after the reconstruction bill was passed over his veto, although his friends announced that while he opposed the act and had resisted its passage, it was the law of the land, and he would fairly execute it. He appointed Generals Sheridan, Sickles, and Pope to carry out its provisions, and he was regarded as an obstinate man patriotically performing an unpleasant duty. Then he began to doubt, and Attorney-General Stanbery, aided by Judge Jere Black, declared that the Reconstruction Act was not legal, and that the military commanders at the South were merely policemen. Congress met in midsummer and made the act more stringent in its provisions. The President's advisers then counseled him to change those who were executing the provisions of the act at the South. Stanton was removed from the War Department and Grant appointed in his place, Sheridan was replaced by Hancock, and Sickles and Pope were relieved from duty. When the Senate met, it overruled the deposition of Mr. Stanton, and General Grant gracefully retired that the "War Secretary" might assume the duties of his office. This made President Johnson very angry. He had wanted to use General Grant as a cat's-paw for keeping Stanton out of the War Department, and had hoped at the same time to injure Grant in the estimation of the people. He raised a question of veracity with the General commanding, but Congress and the people speedily decided between the soldier, whose reputation for veracity was untarnished, and the President, who had broken his promises and had betrayed his friends.
Sir Frederick Bruce, the British Minister to the United States, died suddenly at a hotel in Boston, on the 19th of September, 1867. He had been attacked with diphtheria at Narragansett Pier, and had gone to Boston for medical advice, but he arrived too late. He recognized Senator Sumner, who hastened to his bedside, but was unable to speak to him. Sir Frederick was the younger brother of Lord Elgin. He was born in 1814, was educated at Christ's Church College, Oxford, and subsequently was called to the bar at Lincoln's Inn. Educated for the diplomatic service, he began his career in Lord Ashburton's suite, when he came to Washington in 1842, on his special mission regarding the north-eastern boundary question. At this time Rufus Choate said of him that he was "the Corinthian part of the British Legation." He was then employed in the diplomatic service until he was appointed in 1865 to succeed Lord Lyons as British Minister in Washington, and was presented to President Johnson immediately after the funeral of President Lincoln. While in China his official relations with the Hon. Anson Burlingame ripened into personal intimacy, and on the visit of the latter home there were reciprocated between these gentlemen the most cordial expressions of respect and friendship. He lived in excellent style in Washington, was very hospitable to his acquaintances and friends, whom he frequently entertained at his well-spread table, and was noted for that love of horses which has almost become a passion with Englishmen. To the public in general the deceased wore that stiff and formal appearance which characterizes the class of his countrymen to which he belonged, but in private life he is said to have been very social, conversational, and entertaining.
Mrs. Lincoln created an excitement in the autumn of 1867 by offering for sale, in a small up-stairs room on Broadway, in New York, what purported to be her wardrobe while she was at the White House. Ladies who inspected it said that the object of this exhibition could not have been to realize money from the sale of the collection. With the exception of some lace and camel's-hair shawls, and a few diamond rings, there was nothing which any lady could wear, or which would not have been a disgrace to a second-hand clothes shop; the dresses—those that had been made up and worn—were crushed, old-fashioned, and trimmed without taste. The skirts were too short for any but a very short person, and of the commonest muslins, grenadines, and bareges; all were made extremely low in the neck, and could not be available for any purpose. There were some brocaded silk skirts in large, heavy patterns, which had been made but not worn, but these were unaccompanied by any waists, while the price put upon them and the other articles was exorbitant. The opinion was that the exhibition was intended to stimulate Congress to make Mrs. Lincoln a large appropriation. Those Republicans who had subscribed to the fund of one hundred thousand dollars paid to Mrs. Lincoln after the death of her lamented husband were very angry. The general opinion was that the exhibition was an advertising dodge which some of Mrs. Lincoln's indiscreet friends had persuaded her to adopt.
Thurlow Weed created a decided sensation by taking up the cudgels in defense of his party, and published a letter stating that the Republicans, through Congress, "would have made proper arrangements for the maintenance of Mrs. Lincoln had she so deported herself as to inspire respect." He further intimated "that no President's wife ever before accumulated such valuable effects, and that those accumulations are suggestive of 'fat contracts and corrupt disposal of patronage.'" He continued, that "eleven of Mr. Lincoln's new linen shirts were sold" almost before the remains, which were shrouded in the twelfth, had started "for the bourne from whence no traveler returns." Not only was Mr. Weed censured in this country, but in England. The LondonTelegraphsaid: "To attack Mrs. Lincoln is to insult the illustrious memory of Abraham Lincoln, and to slander a gentle lady. Far and wide she has been known as an admirable and charitable woman, an irreproachable wife, and a devoted mother. She is entitled to more than 'respect' from the American people. They owe her reverence for her very name's sake. If fifty thousand swords were to have leapt from their scabbards to avenge the slightest insult offered to Marie Antoinette, a million of American hearts and hands would be quick to relieve the wants of the widow of the Emancipator; and if this deplorable tale could be true, which we decline to believe, the American public wants no stimulus from abroad to take such an incident at once from the evil atmosphere of electioneering, and to deal with the necessities of Abraham Lincoln's family in a manner befitting the national dignity."
The impeachment of President Johnson was loudly demanded by Wade, Butler, Thad. Stevens, and other ultra radicals when Congress met in December, 1867. "Why," said Mr. Stevens, "I'll take that man's record, his speeches, and his acts before any impartial jury you can get together, and I'll make them pronounce him either a knave or a fool, without the least trouble." He continued: "My own impression is that we had better put it on the ground of insanity or whisky or something of that kind. I don't want to hurt the man's feelings by telling him that he is a rascal. I'd rather put it mildly, and say he hasn't got off that inauguration drunk yet, and just let him retire to get sobered."
President Johnson, with an equally unfortunate want of reticence, denounced Congress, and finally again issued an order removing Mr. Stanton and appointing Adjutant-General Thomas Secretary of War. Senator Sumner at once telegraphed to Mr. Stanton, "Stick," and many believed that a scene of violence would soon be witnessed at the War Department.
What did occur, however, was simply ludicrous. General Thomas went to Mr. Stanton's office, we are told by Adjutant-General Townsend, and formally announced that he was Secretary of War, to which Mr. Stanton replied, "You will attempt to act as Secretary of War at your peril." General Thomas then went into General Shriver's room, and Mr. Stanton soon followed him there. Resuming the colloquy, Mr. Stanton said, in a laughing tone, to General Thomas: "So you claim to be here as Secretary of War, and refuse to obey my orders, do you?" General Thomas replied, seriously, "I do so claim. I shall require the mails of the War Department to be delivered to me, and shall transact all the business of the Department." Seeing that the General looked as if he had had no rest the night before, Mr. Stanton, playfully running his fingers up through the General's hair, as he wearily leaned back in his chair, said: "Well, old fellow, have you had any breakfast this morning?" "No," said Thomas, good-naturedly. "Nor anything to drink?" "No." "Then you are as badly off as I am, for I have had neither." Mr. Stanton then sent out for some refreshments, and while the two were sharing the refection they engaged in very pleasant conversation, in the course of which, however, Mr. Stanton suddenly and with seeming carelessness inquired when General Thomas was going to give him the report of an inspection, which he had lately made, of the newly completed national cemeteries. Mr. Stanton said if it was not soon rendered it would be too late for the printers, and he was anxious to have it go forth as a credible work of the Department. The question had apparently no especial point, and General Thomas evidently saw none, for he answered, pleasantly, that he would work at the report that night and give it to the Secretary. "This struck me," said General Townsend, "as a lawyer'sruseto make Thomas acknowledge Stanton's authority as Secretary of War, and that Thomas was caught by it. I some time after asked Mr. Stanton if that was his design. He made no reply, but looked at me with a mock expression of surprise at my conceiving such a thing."
The Senate at once declared that the President had exceeded his authority, and the House of Representatives passed a resolution— 126 yeas to 47 nays—that he be impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors. The House agreed to the articles of impeachment March 3d, 1868, and the Senate received them two days later. They specified his removal of Secretary Stanton, his publicly expressed contempt for the Thirty-ninth Congress, and his hindrances to the execution of its measures, as acts calling for his impeachment. The trial began in the Senate, sitting as a high court of impeachment, on March 23d. The managers of the trial on the part of the accusation were Thaddeus Stevens, B. F. Butler, John H. Bingham, George S. Boutwell, J. F. Wilson, T. Williams, and John A. Logan, all members of the House; for the President, appeared Attorney-General Henry Stanbery, Benjamin R. Curtis, Jeremiah S. Black, William M. Evarts, and Thomas A. R. Nelson.
The formulated charges were eleven in number, but only three were voted upon, two of these concerning that one item of Secretary Stanton's attempted removal and the other concerning the President's expressed contempt of Congress. The latter charge was based on language used by Mr. Johnson in a public speech in which Congress was characterized as a Congress of only part of the States, and not a constitutional Congress, with intent, as was charged, of denying that its legislation was obligatory upon him, or that it had any power to propose amendments to the Constitution.
The trial from its very inception to a great extent assumed a party character, the Republican party having strongly condemned the action and utterances complained of, while the Democratic party approved and defended them. On the final issue, however, seven of the Republican Senators refused to vote for conviction, and an acquittal followed. A question of importance on the trial was, whether the Presidentpro tem.of the Senate, who in the event of a conviction would become President, had a right to vote; but he claimed and exercised the right. Many members, however, handled the entire subject very delicately, feeling that the precedents were not very safe and sure.
Chief Justice Chase presided with great dignity, but the Senators retained their comfortable arm-chairs, instead of being ranged on a judicial bench, and were often engaged in letter-writing during the arguments. The managers occupied seats at a table on one side of the area before the table of the presiding officer, and the accused's counsel had a table on the other side. Seats were provided for the Representatives in the rear of the Senators.
The most noticeable argument on either side was that of Mr. Evarts, one of the counsel retained by the President's friends, who raised a large sum of money by subscription to secure his acquittal. Mr. Evarts was then fifty years of age, and his three days' speech was an oration rather than an argument. Tall, slender, with a high, round head, expressive eyes, and long, slender arms, he spoke without any emotion, continually indulging in fearfully long sentences.
Even his review of Mr. Manager Boutwell's astronomical proposition of a "hole in the sky," though it provoked shouts of laughter, was overdone. The subject was so good that he kept piling sentence upon sentence on it, and his phrase, "the honorable and astronomical manager," never failed to excite merriment. Boutwell bore it well, though disturbed. Like other men of logical habit of mind, when proposing to ornament his production with something imaginative, he struck upon the extravagant, and, feeling that he was doing a fantastic thing, gave rein to fancy.
An amusing feature of Mr. Evarts' argument was his illustration of "the proprieties of speech, as shown by the official report of the debates." He read from theCongressional Globethat Senator Sumner had called Andrew Johnson an "enemy of his country," and had been called to order. Senator Anthony, in the chair, said that it was usual and proper to call the President an enemy of his country, and Senator Sherman scouted the idea that Senator Sumner was out of order, saying that he had heard such language in the Senate fifty times. Senators were a good deal amused at this exhibition of their record. Then Mr. Evarts turned to the record of the House as to the propriety of speech, and there was a general stir and smile, as if to say, "Here's richness." The celebrated passage between Bingham and Butler, about murdering Mrs. Surratt, and Fort Fisher, and the bottle and spoons, was recited, and there was almost universal merriment. Bingham smiled and squirmed, looking, when his remarks about Butler were given, both puzzled and pleased. Butler had fixed himself in an easy position, his right elbow upon the manager's table, and his head leaning upon his hand, and he was as still as a wooden image until Evarts was through with the matter of decorum. Members of the House who were present, seemed greatly edified, and Garfield and Colfax talked it over, laughing heartily.
At last came the verdict. The votes on the two articles were taken May 16th and 26th, standing, in each case, thirty-five guilty and nineteen not guilty, which acquitted the President, as a two-thirds vote is required to convict. Mr. Stanton at once resigned, and General Schofield was made Secretary of War. The fact that had Mr. Johnson been found guilty Mr. Wade would have been President of the United States doubtless had great weight with several Senators who voted "not guilty."