One of the droll stories brought into play by the President as an ally
in support of his contention, proved most effective. Politics was rife
among the generals of the Union Army, and there was more “wire-pulling”
to prevent the advancement of fellow commanders than the laying of plans
to defeat the Confederates in battle.
However, when it so happened that the name of a particularly unpopular
general was sent to the Senate for confirmation, the protest against
his promotion was almost unanimous. The nomination didn’t seem to please
anyone. Generals who were enemies before conferred together for the
purpose of bringing every possible influence to bear upon the Senate
and securing the rejection of the hated leader’s name. The President was
surprised. He had never known such unanimity before.
“You remind me,” said the President to a delegation of officers which
called upon him one day to present a fresh protest to him regarding the
nomination, “of a visit a certain Governor paid to the Penitentiary of
his State. It had been announced that the Governor would hear the story
of every inmate of the institution, and was prepared to rectify, either
by commutation or pardon, any wrongs that had been done to any prisoner.
“One by one the convicts appeared before His Excellency, and each one
maintained that he was an innocent man, who had been sent to prison
because the police didn’t like him, or his friends and relatives wanted
his property, or he was too popular, etc., etc. The last prisoner to
appear was an individual who was not all prepossessing. His face was
against him; his eyes were shifty; he didn’t have the appearance of an
honest man, and he didn’t act like one.
“‘Well,’ asked the Governor, impatiently, ‘I suppose you’re innocent
like the rest of these fellows?’
“‘No, Governor,’ was the unexpected answer; ‘I was guilty of the crime
they charged against me, and I got just what I deserved.’
“When he had recovered from his astonishment, the Governor, looking
the fellow squarely in the face, remarked with emphasis: ‘I’ll have to
pardon you, because I don’t want to leave so bad a man as you are in
the company of such innocent sufferers as I have discovered your
fellow-convicts to be. You might corrupt them and teach them wicked
tricks. As soon as I get back to the capital, I’ll have the papers made
out.’
“You gentlemen,” continued the President, “ought to be glad that so bad
a man, as you represent this officer to be, is to get his promotion,
for then you won’t be forced to associate with him and suffer the
contamination of his presence and influence. I will do all I can to have
the Senate confirm him.”
And he was confirmed.