Then come what are called the Conspiracy Articles. Here also I am clear. Plainly there was an agreement between the President and Adjutant-General Thomas to obtain possession of the War Department, and prevent Mr. Stanton from continuing in office, and this embraced control of the mails and property belonging to the Department, all of which was contrary to the Tenure-of-Office Act. Intimidation and threats were certainly used by one of the conspirators, and in the case of conspiracy the acts of one are the acts of all. The evidence that force was intended is considerable, and all this must be interpreted by the general character of the offender, his menacing speeches, and the long series of transgressions preceding the conspiracy. I cannot doubt that the conspiracy was to obtain possession of the War Department, peaceably, if possible, forcibly, if necessary. As such it was violation of law, demanding the judgment of the Senate. This disposes of the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh Articles.
The eighth Article charges that Adjutant-General Thomas was appointed to obtain the control of moneys appropriated for the military service and the Department of War. All this would be incident to the control of the War Department. Controlling the latter, he would be able to wield the former. The evidence applicable to the one is also applicable to the other.
The ninth Article opens a different question. This charges a wicked purpose to corrupt General Emory and draw him from his military duty. Not much passed between the President and the General; but it was enough to show the President playing the part of Iago. There was hypocritical profession of regard for the Constitution, while betraying it. Here again his past character explains his purpose beyond reasonable doubt.
Then come the scandalous speeches, proved as set forth in the Articles, so that even the Senator from West Virginia [Mr. Van Winkle] must admit that evidence and pleading concur. Here is no question of form. To my mind this is one of the strongest Articles. On this alone, without anything else, I should deem it my duty to vote for expulsion from office. A young lieutenant, at the bottom of the ladder, if guilty of such things, would be cashiered promptly. A President, at the top of the ladder, with less excuse from the inexperience of early life, and with greater responsibility from the elevation he had reached, should be cashiered promptly also; and this is the object of impeachment. No person capable of such speeches should be allowed to govern this country. It is absurd to tolerate the idea. Besides being degraded, the country cannot be safe in such hands. The speeches are a revelation of himself, not materially different from well-known incidents; but they serve to exhibit him in his true character. They show him unfit for official trust. They were the utterances of a drunken man; and yet it does not appear that he was drunk. Now it is according to precedents of our history that a person disqualified by drunkenness shall be removed from office. This was the case of Pickering in 1804. But a sober man, whose conduct suggests drunkenness, is as bad at least as if he were drunk. Is he not worse? If without the explanation of drunkenness he makes such harangues, I cannot doubt that his unfitness for office becomes more evident, inasmuch as his deplorable condition is natural, and not abnormal. The drunken man has lucid intervals; but where is the assurance of a lucid interval for this perpetual offender? Derangement is with him the normal condition.
It is astonishing to find that these infamous utterances, where ribaldry vies with blasphemy, have received a coat of varnish from the Senator from Maine [Mr. Fessenden], who pleads that they were not “official,” nor did they “violate the Constitution, or any provision of the Statute or Common Law, either in letter or spirit.” In presence of such apologies for revolting indecencies it is hard to preserve proper calmness. Were they not uttered? This is enough. The drunkenness of Andrew Johnson, when he took his oath as Vice-President, was not “official”; but who will say that it was not an impeachable offence? And who will say that these expectorations differ in vileness from that drunkenness? If they did not violate the National Constitution, or any provision of law, common or statute, as is apologetically alleged, I cannot doubt that they violated the spirit of all laws. And then we are further reminded by the apologist of that “freedom of speech” which is a constitutional right; and thus, in the name of a great right, we are to license utterances that shock the moral sense, and are a scandal to human nature. Spirit of John Milton! who pleaded so grandly for this great liberty, but would not allow it to be confounded with license, speak now to save this Republic from the shame of surrender to an insufferable pretension!
The eleventh Article is the most comprehensive. In some respects it is an omnium gatherum. In one mass is the substance of other Articles, and something else beside. Here is an allegation of a speech by the President in which he denied that Congress was a Congress, and then, in pursuance of this denial, attempted to prevent the execution of the Tenure-of-Office Act, also of an important clause in the Army Appropriation Act, and also of the Reconstruction Act. Evidence followed, sustaining completely the compound allegation. The speech was made as set forth. The attempt to prevent the execution of the Tenure-of-Office Act who can question? The attempt to corrupt General Emory is in evidence. The whole history of the country shows how earnest the President has been to arrest the Reconstruction Act, and generally the Congressional scheme of Reconstruction. The removal of Mr. Stanton was to be relieved of an impediment. I accept this Article in gross and in detail. It has been proved in all its parts.
CONCLUSION.
In the judgment which I now deliver I cannot hesitate. To my vision the path is clear as day. Never in history was there a great case more free from all just doubt. If Andrew Johnson is not guilty, then never was a political offender guilty; and if his acquittal is taken as a precedent, never can a political offender be found guilty. The proofs are mountainous. Therefore you are now determining whether impeachment shall continue a beneficent remedy in the National Constitution, or be blotted out forever, and the country handed over to the terrible process of revolution as its sole protection. If the milder process cannot be made effective now, when will it ever be? Under what influences? On what proofs? You wait for something. What? Is it usurpation? You have it before you, open, plain, insolent. Is it abuse of delegated power? That, too, you have in this offender, hardly less broad than the powers he has exercised. Is it violation of law? For more than two years he has set your laws at defiance; and when Congress, by special enactment, strove to constrain him, he broke forth in rebellion against the constitutional authority. Perhaps you ask still for something more. Is it a long catalogue of crime, where violence and corruption alternate, while loyal men are sacrificed and the Rebellion is lifted to its feet? That also is here.
The apologists are prone to remind the Senate that they are acting under the obligation of an oath. So are the rest of us, even if we do not ostentatiously declare it. By this oath, which is the same for all, we are sworn to do “impartial justice.” It is justice, and this justice must be impartial. There must be no false weights, and no exclusion of proper weights. Therefore I cannot allow the jargon of lawyers on mere questions of form to sway the judgment against justice. Nor can I consent to shut out from view the long list of transgressions explaining and coloring the final act of defiance. To do so is not to render impartial justice, but to depart from this prescribed rule. The oath we have taken is poorly kept, if we forget the Public Safety in devices for the criminal. Above all else, now and forever, is that justice which “holds the scales of right with even hand.” In this sacred name, and in the name also of country, that great charity embracing so many other charities, I make this final protest against all questions of form at the expense of the Republic.
Something also is said of the people, now watching our proceedings with patriotic solicitude, and it has been proclaimed that they are wrong to intrude their judgment. I do not think so. This is a political proceeding, which the people are as competent to decide as the Senate. They are the multitudinous jury, coming from no small vicinage, but from the whole country: for on this impeachment, involving the Public Safety, the vicinage is the whole country. It is they who have sent us here, as their representatives, and in their name, to consult for the common weal. In nothing can we escape their judgment, least of all on a question like that before us. It is a mistake to suppose that the Senate only has heard the evidence. The people have heard it also, day by day, as it was delivered, and have carefully considered the case on its merits, properly dismissing all apologetic subtilties. It is for them to review what has been done. They are above the Senate, and will “rejudge its justice.” Thus it has been in other cases. The popular superstition which long surrounded the Supreme Court could not save that eminent tribunal from condemnation, amounting sometimes to execration, when, by an odious judgment, it undertook to uphold Slavery; and down to this day Congress has justly refused to place the bust of the Chief Justice pronouncing this judgment in the hall of the tribunal where he presided so long. His predecessors are all there in marble; no marble of Taney is there. The present trial, like that in the Supreme Court, is a battle with Slavery. Acquittal is another Dred Scott decision, and another chapter in the Barbarism of Slavery. How can Senators, discharging a political function only, expect that the voice of the people will be more tender for them than for a Chief Justice pronouncing judgment from the bench of the Supreme Court, in the exercise of judicial power? His fate we know. Nor learning, nor private virtues, nor venerable years could save him from justice. In the great pillory of history he stands, and there he must stand forever.