Our Presidents and how we make them

by Alexander K. McClure

U. S. GRANT

The Democrats were in a hopeless condition, and they at once began a systematic movement to make him their candidate. This alarmed the Republicans, and they made equally earnest and methodical efforts to make him their leader. It is doubtful upon which side General Grant would have fallen had it not been for the early estrangement between President Johnson and himself. Johnson made repeated attempts to overslaugh him either directly or indirectly. He ordered Grant to Mexico to get him out of the country, but Grant refused to go, and he afterward made an earnest effort to supersede Grant by calling General Thomas to the command of the army, but Thomas stubbornly refused to consider the call. As the Republicans were then in bitter warfare against Johnson, Grant logically found sympathy in Republican circles, and finally, with visible reluctance, he agreed to become the candidate of the Republicans. Had he been nominated by the Democrats he would have been elected, but his administration would have greatly conserved and liberalized the Democratic teachings of that day. His final assent to become the Republican candidate for President was obtained by the late Colonel Forney.

The assassination of Lincoln and the succession of Vice-President Johnson to the Presidency repeated the political history of Tyler and Fillmore in a radical change of the policy of the Government. Johnson started under a cloud in his career as Vice-President. On the day of his inauguration he appeared in the Senate visibly intoxicated, and delivered a maudlin harangue so disgraceful that a correct report was never permitted to be given to the public. The report of that address as severely modified by the omission of the most offensive expressions was highly discreditable. He was immediately hurried away to the country residence of the elder Francis P. Blair, and there remained most of the time until more than a month later, when Lincoln was assassinated. He never attempted to resume his place in the Senate as presiding officer, although he was frequently in Washington and was there on the night of the assassination.

As President he at first startled the country by the most violent demands for the punishment of all those prominently engaged in the Rebellion. His favorite declaration was that “treason must be made odious.” It was not long, however, until his views were materially changed, and he gradually drifted into entire sympathy with the South and aggressively against the policy of the Republicans in Congress. It was this conflict between the Executive and the legislative powers of the Government that led to the radical policy of reconstruction and the wholesale enfranchisement of the colored voters of the South. All the reconstruction measures were vetoed by the President and passed over his veto by the Senate and House, and the issue grew more and more in bitterness until it culminated in the impeachment of Johnson, in which he escaped conviction by a single vote. Grant and Johnson had an acrimonious dispute when Grant, as Secretary of War ad interim, admitted Stanton back to the office after the Senate had refused to approve his removal by the President, and from that time Grant and Johnson never met or exchanged courtesies on any other than official occasions, where the necessity for it was imperative. When the arrangements were about to be made for the inauguration of Grant, he peremptorily refused to permit President Johnson to accompany him in the carriage to the Capitol for the inauguration ceremonies, and Johnson did not make his appearance on that occasion.

I never met President Johnson but once during his term in the White House. I had met him casually before and during the war, but cherished a strong prejudice against him as an arch demagogue because of a debate between him and Senator Bell, his colleague from Tennessee, that I happened to hear in the Senate. Bell was one of the ablest and most dignified of Senators, and I never witnessed a more offensive exhibition of the studied arts of the demagogue than Johnson displayed in that Senatorial controversy. It was on some phase of the sectional issue, and Bell’s exalted patriotism and manly plea for union and fellowship contrasted with Johnson as the soaring eagle contrasts with the mousing owl. I had voted for his nomination for Vice-President in the Republican convention of 1864, because I surrendered my own preferences to considerations of expediency presented by Lincoln.

When he made the disgraceful exhibition of himself on inauguration day as he appeared as Vice-President in the Senate, I published an editorial in my Chambersburg paper denouncing Johnson as having offended against the dignity and decency not only of our own Government, but of civilized governments throughout the world, and demanded his resignation. Little more than a month thereafter he became President, and a troop of new friends flocked about him. It is needless to say that he was soon advised of the severe criticism I had made upon the inauguration address. I did not see or hear from him or communicate with him in any way until the early fall, when Governor Curtin informed me that he had received a request from the President for Curtin and myself to visit him at Washington. My answer to Curtin was that as he was in an official position it was probably his duty to regard a request from the President as a command, but as I was not anybody of consequence, I would not go. Within a fortnight a second and more pressing request was made to Curtin for us to come to Washington to confer with the President on the political situation. Curtin felt that we should go. He thought it possible that Johnson might yet be saved from political apostasy, although I had no confidence whatever in the future of the administration, judging from the surroundings he had invited, but I accompanied the Governor to Washington and called upon the President.

At that time Johnson had attempted and largely carried out a scheme of reconstruction of his own, that had gradually drifted him into very close and sympathetic relations with the ruling class of the South that had been active in rebellion. He had appointed provisional Governors, Legislatures had been chosen, Congressmen and Senators had been elected to some extent, and I was utterly surprised to find the President entirely confident that his scheme of reconstruction would be sanctioned by Congress. I was well informed by conference with the leading Republicans of the North as to the policy they would pursue in Congress, and I knew that there was not the shadow of a chance for any of his reconstructed States to be readmitted into the Union on the basis of his policy.

Curtin’s more responsible official position and general distrust made him quite willing to avoid discussion with the President, who opened the conversation by an earnest appeal to us to give tranquillity to the country and renewed prosperity to business by accepting his method of reconstruction, that he always spoke of as “my policy.” I answered by stating that it would be simply a waste of time and effort to attempt to maintain his policy, as not a single Senator and Representative then elected to the next Congress, or to be elected thereafter by Southern States as then reconstructed, would be admitted into Congress. He seemed to be utterly amazed at the audacity of such a declaration, and informed me in the most imperious and insolent manner that every State would be restored to the Union and to representation in the coming Congress. I told him that he was suffering from the common misfortune of power in seldom hearing the truth. He exhibited much irritation, and several times walked the full length of the Executive Chamber with rapid step, apparently to get cooling time for his passion. He finally tempered the discussion by more courteous expression, and we went over the whole ground with rugged frankness on both sides, ending in the disagreement on which we had started.

I then asked him what he proposed to do with Jefferson Davis, who was still in prison at Fortress Monroe, charged with complicity in the assassination of Lincoln. I saw that he was much embarrassed by the inquiry, and told him that he owed it to the truth of history, to Davis himself and to public justice to give him a fair trial. I reminded him also that Wurz, who had just been tried by a court-martial for wanton and murderous brutality to the Union prisoners, with the judgment in the case then in the hands of the Government, but not announced, would be condemned and executed, as he was poor and friendless. I said that if Wurz was guilty of studied brutality to prisoners he deserved to die, but that if he was simply executing the policy of the government of the Confederacy, as was then publicly charged, of deliberately and systematically murdering Union prisoners by giving them unwholesome or insufficient food, and withholding the necessary and possible attention to the sick and dying, the responsible criminal was Jefferson Davis. In answer, the President asked how that could be done, to which I responded by saying that a court-martial, consisting of Generals Grant, Sherman, Thomas, Sheridan and Meade, could well be charged with so grave an inquiry, as their judgment would be accepted by the country and the world. If they condemned Davis, he deserved to be executed. If they acquitted him, as I believed they would, he would stand acquitted of one of the most colossal crimes ever charged against an individual. To my surprise, the President answered that there was strong prejudice growing up against court-martials. He was quite right in that declaration, as up to that time he had used them freely and almost wholly in the administration of justice in all cases having any connection with the war. He had denounced Davis as an assassin, and in his new relations with the South, which changed his conditions materially, he was anxious to protect Davis, and evidently did not wish his accusations to be passed upon by a competent court.