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 London Telegraph said: "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's ruse to 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 President pro 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.