“Madam,” he answered. “I am not your husband’s judge——”
“I know it!” I interrupted. “And I am thankful for it; and I would not have you for his accuser!”
“Neither am I his accuser!” he continued. I could scarcely believe I had heard him aright. His manner was gravely polite. I remember thinking at that moment, “Can this be the rude man of whom I have heard? Can I have been misinformed about him?”
“Thank you, Mr. Stanton, for those words,” I said. “I had not hoped to hear them from you. I thought you were the bitterest of my husband’s enemies! I assure you your words give me fresh hope! I will tell the President at once of this cheering interview!”
At these expressions Mr. Stanton seemed somewhat confused. I wondered whether he would modify or recall his words. He did not, however, and thanking him again for even that concession, I withdrew.
The legal friends to whom I gave an account of this conversation were less confident as to its significance. If Mr. Stanton was neither Mr. Clay’s judge nor accuser, who was? Some one was surely responsible for his detention; some one with the power to obstruct justice was delaying the trial, which the first legal minds in the country for months had sought to bring about. If not Mr. Stanton, could it be Mr. Holt, whose name was already become one of abhorrence among the majority of Southerners? Judge Black felt sure it was. But accusation against the Judge Advocate General without proof was impolitic, with my husband’s safety still in the balance. In a situation so serious as the present, I should, have preferred to conciliate him.
“Have you tried to interest Judge Holt in your husband’s behalf?” wrote our old friend ex-Speaker Orr. “Would not some little kind memory of the past steal over him when you revive the morning reminiscences of the Ebbitt House, when his much-adored wife was a shining luminary in that bright circle? He would be more or less than man if such a picture did not move him. Will you try it?”
Great, indeed, was Mr. Orr’s surprise when he learned that I had written to Mr. Holt three times, only to meet with complete silence at his hands!
Under such circumstances it was wiser to adhere to my first purpose; namely, to sue for the privilege of seeing Mr. Clay and for his release on parole, or for a speedy trial. I was urged by Judge Black not to cease in my appeals to the President; to tell the Executive of my interview with his Secretary of War, and in the meantime to secure from General Grant, if possible, a letter to the President, advocating my plea. I had already been assured by General Ihrie of his chief’s ability and willingness to serve me. On the evening of the second Sunday after my arrival in Washington, therefore, I drove from Willard’s at seven o’clock, accompanied by Major Echols, to Lieutenant-General Grant’s headquarters in Georgetown. I found these to be established in what was formerly the home of our friend Mr. Alfred Scott,[[55]] of Alabama, now deceased. Soldiers guarded the entrance, as became a military headquarters, and one came forward to take my card as we drove up. Upon his return, Major Echols and I were shown at once to the General’s reception parlour. Dismissing the officers in uniform who stood about, General Grant received me courteously, tendering his hand frankly. I at once presented Major Echols, saying that “my friend, like yourself, is a graduate of West Point; but, feeling bound to offer his allegiance to his native South, he had served with distinction at Fort Sumter,” which introduction, I imagined, pleased the General, though it disconcerted my modest escort.
I now briefly, and in some trepidation at finding myself face to face with the “Hero of the Hour!” the “Coming Man,” “Our next President” (for by these and many other titles was the hero of Appomattox already crowned), explained as succinctly as I could my motive in calling upon him, closing my remarks with the assurance that the one circumstance prompting me to ask his aid was not his army victories, but his noble conduct to our beloved General Lee in his recent surrender. I was convinced, I added, that the man who had borne himself so magnanimously toward a brave soldier whom he had vanquished, possessed the soul to espouse and sustain a cause, if just, though all the world opposed. It was in this faith I had come to him.