The Judicial Murder of Mary E. Surratt

by David Miller DeWitt

After thus quietly disposing of Mr. Speed’s evidence, he proceeds:—

“The record of the court was submitted to me by Judge Holt in the afternoon of the 5th day of July, 1865. Instead of entering the Executive Mansion in the usual way, he gained admission by the private or family entrance to the Executive office. The examination of the papers took place in the library, and he and I alone were present. The sentences of the court in the cases of Herold, Atzerodt and Payne, were considered in the order named, and then the sentence in the case of Mrs. Surratt. In acting upon her case no recommendation for a commutation of her punishment was mentioned or submitted to me.”

He then states that the question of sex was discussed alone; Holt insisting upon carrying out the sentence without discriminating as to sex; that a woman unsexed was worse than a man; that too many females had abetted traitors during the war, and that there was a necessity an example should be made.

“He was not only in favor of the approval of the sentence but its execution on the earliest practicable day.

“Upon the termination of our consultation, Judge Holt wrote the order approving the sentences of the Court. I affixed my name to it, and, rolling up the papers, he took his leave, carrying the record with him, and departing as he had come through the family or private entrance.”

And there we must leave him.

True, he rejoined, in December, in another very long article, contributed to the same newspaper, in which he endeavored to break the force of several points made in Johnson’s answer, and dwelt with much insistence on the abstention of the President from making any open charge against him, and on his adversary’s present silence with regard to General Mussey’s letter. But there is nothing new in the way of testimony, except two sympathizing letters from Generals Ekin and Hunter, respectively; the former of which might be construed by the uncharitable as evidence that General Holt, at the time of the execution, was already forestalling anticipated accusation by defending himself in private to his friends; the latter is a tribute from the grim President of the Military Commission to the Judge-Advocate’s tenderness to the prisoners before that body, of which the printed record of the trial affords such striking illustrations.

This lengthy “Refutation,” as it was entitled, upon the whole added little, if any, strength to the “Vindication.” His accuser, on his side, resting content with his one single explicit public utterance, paid no attention to it.

And when, at the present hour, we calmly survey the relative standing, the position, the character and career of the two combatants, the circumstances surrounding the momentous confidential interview, the silent testimony of the record with the significant twist of the death-warrant, the nature of the accusation, the mysteries enveloping the belated defense, the probable motives actuating each, the thirst for blood which for a time maddened the leading spirits of the War Department, the passivity of Johnson for the few weeks after his sudden and sombre inauguration, and for the same period the wild and reckless predominance of Stanton;—what valid reason exists why we should discredit, or even suspect for a moment, the veracity of the ex-President? Andrew Johnson looms up in history a very different figure from the one discerned by his enemies, both North and South, amid the passions of his epoch. He was no inebriate, as he was stigmatized because of the unfortunate incident at his inauguration as Vice-President. He was no weak, frightened tool, as he appeared to be at the bloody crisis of his accession to the Presidency. He was no apostate from his section, as he was cursed by the South for being at the breaking out of the war. He was no traitor to the North, as he was denounced by the impeachers for the mere endeavor to carry out the reconstruction policy of his lamented predecessor. He was not the garrulous fool, he was called in ridicule when he “swung around the circle.” He is now recognized, when his career is reviewed as a whole, as a man temperate in his habits, firm, self-willed and honest; as a statesman, intelligent though uncultured, sometimes profound and always sincere; and as a union-loving, non-sectional, earnest patriot. His impeachment is looked back upon by the whole country with shame. His impeachers are already, themselves, both impeached and convicted at the bar of history.

In sober truth, so unique and perfect a triumph never capped and completed the career of Roman warrior or modern ruler of men, as when, but little more than a year after his reply to General Holt, the ex-President—once again the chosen representative of that State whose rebellious people he had coerced with an iron hand as military governor during the Civil War—took his seat in that body, before which he had been arraigned on the impeachment of the House of Representatives and had escaped conviction by but a single vote.