Perley's Reminiscences Part 34

Any representation of Sherman's army would have been incomplete which omitted the notorious "b.u.mmers." At the end of each corps appeared the strangest huddle of animation, equine, canine, bovine, and human, that ever civilian beheld--mules, a.s.ses, horses, colts, cows, sheep, pigs, goats, racc.o.o.ns, 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 distinguis.h.i.+ng 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.

CHAPTER XVII.

PRESIDENT JOHNSON SURRENDERS.

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, establis.h.i.+ng provisional governments in the Southern States, and granting a general amnesty to all persons engaged in the Rebellion, except certain cla.s.ses, 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 Ma.s.sachusetts, who had been in early life a prominent Abolitionist and temperance lecturer. During the Johnson Administration Mr. Hanscom edited the Was.h.i.+ngton _Republican_, 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 unblus.h.i.+ngly related the circ.u.mstances 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 circ.u.mstances.

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 t.i.tlow, 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 G.o.d! 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 a.s.signed, 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 t.i.tlow 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, 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 Was.h.i.+ngton as the chaplain to Henry Wilson's regiment, but he found himself unable to endure the hards.h.i.+ps of camp life, and Senator Sherman obtained a clerks.h.i.+p 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-alb.u.m containing the portraits of old Boston friends and paris.h.i.+oners. 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 emanc.i.p.ationist, 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 b.u.t.ter 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 pa.s.sion.

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 pa.s.sed their honeymoon at Newport, accompanied by the bride's young daughter. He finished a letter there to a friend by quoting from the _Spectator_, 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 fict.i.tious 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 pa.s.sed 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 const.i.tuted himself the chief impeacher, and a.s.sumed 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 ent.i.tled to the discharge prayed for in his pet.i.tion, his case coming within the strict letter of the law of Congress, pa.s.sed in 1863, authorizing the suspension of the writ of _habeas 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 a.s.sociate 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.

CHAPTER XVIII.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON CELEBRITIES.

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 Was.h.i.+ngton, many of whom, in later years, gladly welcomed her return to Was.h.i.+ngton. She was thus early introduced into Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 leaders.h.i.+p 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 b.u.t.toned 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 wors.h.i.+ped 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 a.s.sociates, to which was added their sympathy, caused by his physical condition. Possessed of an extraordinary physique and an iron const.i.tution, 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 flas.h.i.+ng with patriotism as he plead the cause of the emanc.i.p.ated, or flas.h.i.+ng 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 partic.i.p.ate 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 cla.s.sic 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 the _Congressional Record_ without any revision or correction, although many other members of Congress pa.s.s a deal of time in revising, polis.h.i.+ng, and correcting the reports of their remarks. Invaluable in opposition and almost irresistible in a.s.sault, 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 a.s.signment. His princ.i.p.al 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 a.s.sociates.

"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 Ma.s.sachusetts, who would listen in a stately embarra.s.sment which was delightful to Nye to witness, not wis.h.i.+ng to show any offense, and yet thoroughly disgusted. Nye wasn't particularly witty in debate, and the speeches of Proctor Knott, McCreery, or Sam c.o.x 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 pa.s.s 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-Generals.h.i.+p 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 const.i.tutional 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 a.s.semblage, 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 b.u.t.toned 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"