From this review, showing how this proceeding is political in
character, before a political body, and with a political judgment,
being expulsion from office and nothing more,--then how the
transgressions of the President, in protracted line, are embraced under
“impeachable offences,”--then how the form of procedure is liberated
from ordinary technicalities of law,--and, lastly, how unquestionable
rules of evidence open the gates to overwhelming testimony,--I pass to
the consideration of the testimony, and how the present impeachment
became a necessity. I have already called it one of the last great
battles with Slavery. See now how the battle began.
Slavery in all its pretensions is a defiance of law; for it can have
no law in its support. Whoso becomes its representative must act
accordingly; and this is the transcendent crime of Andrew Johnson.
For the sake of Slavery, and to uphold its original supporters in
their endeavors to continue this wrong under another name, he has set
at defiance the National Constitution and the laws of the land; and
he has accompanied this unquestionable usurpation by brutalities and
indecencies in office without precedent, unless we go back to the Roman
emperor fiddling or the French monarch dancing among his minions. This
usurpation, with its brutalities and indecencies, became manifest as
long ago as the winter of 1866, when, being President, and bound by
oath of office to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution,
and to take care that the laws are faithfully executed, he assumed
legislative powers in the reconstruction of the Rebel States, and,
in carrying forward this usurpation, nullified an Act of Congress,
intended as the corner-stone of Reconstruction, by virtue of which
Rebels are excluded from office under the National Government, and
thereafter, in vindication of this misconduct, uttered a scandalous
speech, in which he openly charged members of Congress with being
assassins, and mentioned some by name. Plainly he should have been
impeached and expelled at that early day. The case against him was
complete. That great patriot of English history, Lord Somers, has
likened impeachment to Goliath’s sword hanging in the Temple, to
be taken down only when occasion required;[193] but if ever there
was occasion for its promptest vengeance, it was then. Had there
been no failure at that time, we should be now by two years nearer
to restoration of all kinds, whether political or financial. So
strong is my conviction of the fatal remissness of the impeaching
body, that I think the Senate would do a duty in strict harmony
with its constitutional place in the Government, and the analogies
of judicial tribunals so often adduced, if it reprimanded the House
of Representatives for this delay. Of course the Senate could not
originate impeachment. It could not take down the sword of Goliath. It
must wait on the House, as the court waits on the grand jury. But this
waiting has cost the country more than can be told.
Meanwhile the President proceeded in transgression. There is nothing
of usurpation he has not attempted. Beginning with assumption of all
power in the Rebel States, he has shrunk from nothing in maintenance of
this unparalleled assumption. This is a plain statement of fact. Timid
at first, he grew bolder and bolder. He saw too well that his attempt
to substitute himself for Congress in the work of Reconstruction was
sheer usurpation, and therefore, by his Secretary of State, did not
hesitate to announce that “it must be distinctly understood that the
restoration will be _subject to the decision of Congress_.”[194] On
two separate occasions, in July and September, 1865, he confessed the
power of Congress over the subject; but when Congress came together in
December, the confessor of Congressional power found that he alone had
this great prerogative. According to his new-fangled theory, Congress
had nothing to do but admit the States with governments instituted
through his will alone. It is difficult to measure the vastness of
this usurpation, involving as it did a general nullification. Strafford
was not bolder, when, speaking for Charles the First, he boasted that
“the King’s little finger was heavier than the loins of the Law”;[195]
but these words helped the proud minister to the scaffold. No monarch,
no despot, no sultan, could claim more than an American President; for
he claimed all. By his edict alone governments were organized, taxes
levied, and even the franchises of the citizen determined.
Had this assumption of power been incidental, for the exigency of
the moment, as under pressure of war, and especially to serve human
rights, to which before his elevation the President had professed
such vociferous devotion, it might have been pardoned. It would have
passed into the chapter of unauthorized acts which a patriot people
had condoned. But it was the opposite in every particular. Beginning
and continuing in usurpation, it was hateful beyond pardon, because it
sacrificed Unionists, white and black, and was in the interest of the
Rebellion, and of Rebels who had been in arms against their country.
More than one person was appointed provisional governor who could not
take the oath of office required by Act of Congress. Other persons
in the same predicament were appointed in the revenue service. The
effect of these appointments was disastrous. They were in the nature
of notice to Rebels everywhere, that participation in the Rebellion
was no bar to office. If one of their number could be appointed
governor, if another could be appointed to a confidential position in
the Treasury Department, there was nobody on the long list of blood
who might not look for preferment. And thus all offices, from governor
to constable, were handed over to disloyal scramble. Rebels crawled
forth from their retreats. Men who had hardly ventured to expect life
were candidates for office, and the Rebellion became strong again.
The change was felt in all gradations of government, in States,
counties, towns, and villages. Rebels found themselves in places of
trust, while true-hearted Unionists, who had watched the coming of
our flag and should have enjoyed its protecting power, were driven
into hiding-places. All this was under the auspices of Andrew Johnson.
It was he who animated the wicked crew. He was at the head of the
work. Loyalty was persecuted. White and black, whose only offence was
that they had been true to country, were insulted, abused, murdered.
There was no safety for the loyal man except within the flash of our
bayonets. The story is as authentic as hideous. More than two thousand
murders have been reported in Texas alone since the surrender of Kirby
Smith. In other States there was like carnival. Property, person, life,
were all in jeopardy. Acts were done to “make a holiday in Hell.” At
New Orleans was a fearful massacre, worse, considering the age and
place, than that of St. Bartholomew, which darkens a century of France,
or that of Glencoe, which has printed an ineffaceable stain upon one
of the greatest reigns of English history. All this is directly traced
to Andrew Johnson. The words of bitterness uttered at another time are
justified, while Fire, Famine, and Slaughter shriek forth,--
“He let me loose, and cried, Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.”[196]