It has always been my opinion that if Chester A. Arthur had been named
by the Republicans as their candidate in 1884 they would have carried
the election, spite of what Mr. Blaine, who defeated Arthur in the
convention, had said and thought about the nomination of General
Sherman. Arthur, like Grant, belonged to the category of lovable men in
public life.
There was a gallant captain in the army who had slapped his colonel in
the face on parade. Morally, as man to man, he had the right of it. But
military law is inexorable. The verdict was dismissal from the service.
I went with the poor fellow’s wife and her sister to see General
Hancock at Governor’s Island. It was a most affecting meeting—the
general, tears rolling down his cheeks, taking them into his arms, and,
when he could speak, saying: “I can do nothing but hold up the action
of the court till Monday. Your recourse is the President and a pardon;
I will recommend it, but”—putting his hand upon my shoulder—“here is
the man to get the pardon if the President can be brought to see the
case as most of us see it.”
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.
“Because,” said I, “you will have to veto it; and, with the
Frelinghuysens wild for it, as well as others of your nearest friends,
I am sure you don’t want to be obliged to do that. With your word to me
I can stop it, and have it for the present at least held up.”
His answer was, “Go ahead.”
Then I went to the Capitol. Curtin and Slocum were in a state of mind.
It was hard to make them understand or believe what I told them.
“Now, gentlemen,” I continued, “I don’t mean to argue the case. It is
not debatable. I am just from the White House, and I am authorized by
the President to say that if you send this bill to him he will veto
it.”
That, of course, settled it. They held it up. But after the
presidential election it reached Arthur, and he did veto it. Not till
Cleveland came in did Porter obtain his restoration.
Curiously enough General Grant approved this. I had listened to the
debate in the House—especially the masterly speech of William Walter
Phelps—without attaining a clear understanding of the many points at
issue. I said as much to General Grant.
“Why,” he replied, “the case is as simple as A, B, C. Let me show you.”
Then, with a pencil he traced the Second Bull Run battlefield, the
location of troops, both Federal and Confederate, and the exact passage
in the action which had compromised General Porter.
“If Porter had done what he was ordered to do,” he went on, “Pope and
his army would have been annihilated. In point of fact Porter saved
Pope’s Army.” Then he paused and added: “I did not at the outset know
this. I was for a time of a different opinion and on the other side. It
was Longstreet’s testimony—which had not been before the first Court of
Inquiry that convicted Porter—which vindicated him and convinced me.”