At once I went over to Washington, taking Stephen French with me. When we entered the President’s apartment in the White House he advanced smiling to greet us, saying: “I know what you boys are after; you mean—”
“Yes, Mr. President,” I answered, “we do, and if ever—”
“I have thought over it, sworn over it, and prayed over it,” he said, “and I am going to pardon him!”
V
Another illustrative incident happened during the Arthur Administration. The dismissal of Gen. Fitz-John Porter from the army had been the subject of more or less acrimonious controversy. During nearly two decades this had raged in army circles. At length the friends of Porter, led by Curtin and Slocum, succeeded in passing a relief measure through Congress. They were in ecstasies. That there might be a presidential objection had not crossed their minds.
Senator McDonald, of Indiana, a near friend of General Porter, and a man of rare worldly wisdom, knew better. Without consulting them he came to me.
“You are personally close to the President,” said he, “and you must know that if this bill gets to the White House he will veto it. With the Republican National Convention directly ahead he is bound to veto it. It must not be allowed to get to him; and you are the man to stop it. They will listen to you and will not listen to me.”
First of all, I went to the White House.
“Mr. President,” I said, “I want you to authorize me to tell Curtin and Slocum not to send the Fitz-John Porter bill to you.”
“Why?” he answered.