One day Thaddeus Stevens called at the White House with an elderly
woman, whose son had been in the army, but for some offense had been
court-martialed and sentenced to death. There were some extenuating
circumstances, and after a full hearing the President turned to Stevens
and said: “Mr. Stevens, do you think this is a case which will warrant
my interference?”
“With my knowledge of the facts and the parties,” was the reply, “I
should have no hesitation in granting a pardon.”
“Then,” returned Mr. Lincoln, “I will pardon him,” and proceeded
forthwith to execute the paper.
The gratitude of the mother was too deep for expression, save by her
tears, and not a word was said between her and Stevens until they were
half way down the stairs on their passage out, when she suddenly broke
forth in an excited manner with the words:
“I knew it was a copperhead lie!”
“What do you refer to, madam?” asked Stevens.
“Why, they told me he was an ugly-looking man,” she replied, with
vehemence. “He is the handsomest man I ever saw in my life.”