Annex," which should be printed. Some memory of these conferences, as well as of interviews with leading Republicans, should be preserved.

From the date of the formal inception of the impeachment scheme to the date of the verdict, one of these gentlemen, Mr. Warden, was constantly interrogated by the Senators and Representatives who had ceased to visit the Executive Mansion, concerning President Johnson's sentiments and purposes. They wondered how he looked at the proceedings. "Of these things I faithfully and promptly informed him," says Mr. Warden, “in our evenings together. When we met at night—no matter how frequently we may have met during the preceding day — Mr. Johnson opened up with: 'Well, what are the signs of the zodiac to-day?' Thereupon I would proceed to inform him what the main features in the leading newspapers contained—always truthfully relating what was said of him personally or relative to his policy, sometimes reading aloud portions, and never failing to let him have opportunity for forming his own estimate of the prevalent opinions, in favor of or against him. Then I proceeded to relate the occurrences of the day in Congress. As, briefly, for example: 'Mr. Bingham and General Butler had a fierce debate in the House to-day;- Butler charged that Bingham had been guilty of a legal murder in the trial of the assassins of President Lincoln.' Then I gave the occurrences in the Senate. In this manner I imparted my information of all kinds, and as the impeachment trial progressed, and especially when nearing the end, I informed him that, besides the clamor of the radical Republican press for a verdict of guilty and the eviction of Mr. Johnson from the White House, the House managers had been openly predicting dire calamity to the country as the result of an acquittal of the President, primarily because a verdict of 'not guilty' would encourage Mr. Johnson to do rash things'; 'go on in his excesses'; 'encourage the exrebels'; and further, that these alarmists in the Senate had begun to threaten with infamy' any Senator who should vote 'not guilty'; and that secretly, in their talks among themselves, the radical Republican Senators were endeavoring to frighten off' the so-called doubtful' Republican Senators, who, it was then believed, would vote for acquittal.

"Senator Reverdy Johnson," said Mr. Warden to the writer, "had made an arrangement with me whereby I was to meet him at his home-the Johnson Annex to the Arlington Hotel - every evening at eight o'clock, and there talk over the affairs of the day. In those conversations he told me of the utterances of the radical Senators. As the partisan feeling in the Senate became somewhat fierce, Senator Johnson became apprehensive that one or other of three of the doubtful' Republican Senators might be driven to vote 'guilty'; and the Senator informed me that these 'doubtful' members had said to him that it was unfortunate that there was no means practicable by which they could have 'assurances from President Johnson that he did not intend any rash act,' in case of a verdict of acquittal. Senator Johnson

CONFERENCE AT THE ARLINGTON HOTEL.

593

asked the Senators what they would suggest for relief from their perturbation. They replied: Let him [the President] get himself heard publicly in some form, denying such intention.' Senator Johnson told these Senators that President Johnson, even if inclined to such course, was in no position to be heard publicly on this subject, except by his counsel in course of their arguments, and that assurances from that source would not be received as binding.

"Thereupon Senator Grimes one of the best of the radical Republican Senators, and who finally voted not guilty'-calls Senator Johnson aside upon the floor of the Senate. A brief, earnest interview is held. It is confidentially agreed that if it could so happen' that President Johnson and Senator Grimes should meet, casually, or in a social way, the subject would be discussed informally, so that President Johnson might respond in his own way to the assertions that he would do rash acts, and encourage rebels."

Senator Johnson suggested to Mr. Warden that at his next meeting with the President it would be advisable to let the latter know how the matter was affecting the doubtful Senators. Mr. Warden cautiously approached the President with an invitation from Senator Johnson to make the latter a brief visit at about nine o'clock on the following night. Meanwhile, Senator Johnson invited Senator Grimes, who lived "around the corner on I Street," to spend the evening. Owing to the peculiar nature of the President, it proved to be most difficult to bring about this desired meeting. However, the visit was made. Senators Grimes and Johnson are seated in the drawingroom of the latter's house. They pleasantly chat about trifles, until President Johnson arrives. He is accompanied by Col. Robert Morrow, of the President's executive household, and Mr. Warden. The greeting is exceedingly cordial.

After some rambling talk, relating to former days which these Senators had spent together, interlarded with some fun and humor, Senator Johnson, at the conclusion of an amusing anecdote he had been telling, cleverly broaches the subject that had brought the party together. In a short time, there is a candid interchange of sentiments; during which President Johnson becomes quite excited when expressing his indignation at the assertions of the alarmists in the Senate. He exclaims: "They have no warrant whatever, in anything I have said or done for believing that the President intends to do any act which is not in strict conformity with the Constitution and laws." He becomes eloquent as he proceeds. He convinces all present that he heartily and honestly means what he says.

Senator Grimes has frequently said, in defense of his vote for acquittal, that, for himself, he never believed President Johnson intended to do wrong, as alleged by the alarmists; but, that even if he had been doubtful before this meeting, he would have come away with full confidence in the President's patriotism and law-abiding intentions.

The party remained together an hour. They separated much gratified. Upon the following day, Senator Grimes, in a confidential, seemingly casual chat with the three doubtful Senators, inspires confidence. Without telling them upon what authority he acts, he says to them solemnly: "You may rely implicitly upon this: I know Johnson's purposes in the event of acquittal. You need not fear his behavior will cause you to regret your vote, whichever way you may cast it. He does not dread, personally, a verdict of guilty. He believes such a verdict would be disastrous to the Republic, and hence prays for acquittal. But he has no thought of wrong or rash doings." The proceedings of the trial were about closing, when the writer, then out of Congress and practicing law in New-York City, received a telegram from Mr. Charles W. Wooley. It required the author's presence at Washington. It gave him some mysterious reason. He arrived at Willard's and was informed by Mr. Wooley that it was suggested that John B. Henderson, then a Republican Senator from Missouri, was one of the doubtful Senators, and as it was understood that the Senator and the author were old friends, the telegram was sent. It was true that the friendship existed. They had been Douglas Democrats in stormy times together. The friendly relation yet exists. General Henderson is a man of great affectionateness and absolute probity. But his nature is mellowed with a geniality which is a leading trait in the nobility of the man. He is not a bitter partisan, although he presided over the National Convention that nominated Mr. Blaine in 1884.

It was then thought that the writer could influence this Senator. Whether he could or not,—or did or not,— he called on him to make the best impression possible on behalf of "acquittal." A public meeting had just been held at St. Louis, to instruct the Senator to vote "guilty." His sense of justice had been affronted by this. In this mood the writer found him. He seemed to want advice and counsel. It was not long before the writer was requested by the Senator to pen and send a telegram to the president and officers of that impudent St. Louis meeting. It substantially read: “I am a judge in the impeachment case. You have no right to instruct me in such affairs. As I am an honest man I will obey my conscience, and not your will. I shall vote not guilty.""

And he did so vote. A copy of that telegram the writer took to the White House at midnight. He found the President gloomy. His fate depended on one vote-nay, on this one Missouri vote. Grimes and Ross were sure, but Henderson was not. The telegram was read to the President. A festivity was improvised on the good news; and the morning dawned with roseate hues for all interested in the righteousness of the President's acquittal, and the certainty of the vindication of a President, than whom no man was ever more vilipended without justifiable cause.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

AMNESTY.

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THE VICISSITUDES OF THIS QUESTION - CARRIED ONCE IN THE HOUSE COLORED VOTES FOR IT-GENERAL BUTLER'S BILL OF GRACE WITHOUT GRACE, AND PUNITORY PARDON - MILITARY REPRESSION AND CIVIL OPPRESSION-RANCOR CHERISHED-HOPES OF RECONCILIATION MOCKEDSPURIOUS SPIRIT OF AMNESTY - MR. GREELEY'S NOMINATION-ITS CAUSESMR. LINCOLN'S PURPOSE OF MERCY-MR. BLAINE'S ACTION—THE PAGAN POLICIES OF REPUBLICANS - EXECUTIVE PARDONS AND THE AMNESTY OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT.

A

MONG the first bills introduced for amnesty was one the author offered in Congress as early as 1869. In fact he generally had charge of matters of a kindred nature. His object in congressional service was, since war could not be alleviated of its cruelties, to mitigate, in so far as it could be done, the proscriptive tendency which kept our people separated by a great chasm. In moments of unimpassioned patriotism the House indicated its preferences in the same direction. It may be said here that this bill came within two votes of passing the House of Representatives when it required a two-thirds vote. That majority included some colored members. In 1870, Gen. Benjamin F. Butler, then a member from Massachusetts, introduced his bill for a general grace, amnesty, and oblivion. It was copied from an old English statute about the Scotch Rebellion. The writer characterized it from his seat as a bill for pains and penalties, with a meagre element of mercy; yet it was a step toward amnesty. It was grace which was grudged, amnesty which was exceptive, and oblivion brimful of memories. It was most ungracious grace. It was punitory pardon; it was a rushing and turbulent lethe. The author pleaded for mercy on the old and fraternal plan, and against eternizing proscription.

Another bill appeared in Congress as late as 1875, to prevent the subversion of state authority and to maintain the security of elections. It provided against the invasion of states. There were sections in it which prescribed penalties of fine and imprisonment, and authorized suspension of

habeas corpus. The appointment of Federal supervisors, and other measures intended to inaugurate force and suppress freedom a decade after the war was over, were also provided for. General Butler's bill had in it what the bill of 1875 had not; it had some liberality. Five years had not lessened the hatred of the Northern radical toward the Southern insurgent. General Butler's bill had a strange feature in it; oblivion for the agents and officers of the United States engaged in reconstruction! Amnesty for the conqueror!

The history of the United States, from the close of the war until 1876, was a history of military repression and civil oppression, which destroyed the old divisions of power. The complex nature of our Federal and local governments was ignored. There was a time in our emergencies when men in their extreme views cried out for imperial power. The writer never sat at the feet of such tuition. Sometimes they preferred military rule, and sometimes revolution. There were civil convulsions, as we have shown, in Louisiana and elsewhere. They were marked with blood and saturated with fraud. The many South were discontented. They were willing to be pinned to the Union even by an honest bayonet, held to it by the mailed hand, or shackled to it by an iron gyve, rather than to be controlled by such State governments as were established for many years after the war.

The aspiration for civil discipline and patriotic allegiance was chilled in the South. The feeling that allegiance led to protection, and that these were co-ordinate in essence and should be in practice, was forgotten. Had the bugles at Appomattox sounded merely a truce? It was hoped that the conditions of peace frankly tendered by General Grant would create a contented people, and would be observed; that all future griefs would be solaced; that magnanimity would conquer hatred; that scorn and revenge would have their anodyne, and that for uncounted decades there would be no interregnum in the serene dynasty of peace and love; that through the bleeding and distracted land, and over the scenes and graves, and over the sorrows of mourning, the lethean stream would gently flow. But what did "peace" bring to the South? Only the respite of despair. It was the sign and proof of death. It was lethe, except its sleep. It was all of death with its sting and without its repose. Homes were wasted; property was confiscated and destroyed; enterprises ruined; cities burned, and the whole country swathed in destruction. But after all, it was expected that amid these immeasurable calamities hates and griefs would not be perpetuated; that the new generation would not wear rancor in their hearts until their hair whitened; that they would not teach their children to perpetuate the hate of their fathers.

For ten years, the middle decade, the hopes of the patriotic were mocked. What a mockery! God had fixed his creatures in this fair land in habitations bound together by the same rivers, mountains, lakes, and skies. He had fixed in their hearts the ennobling principles of unity and peace. He had sent to the world the divine Prince of Peace, as an exemplar and Saviour.