The President promptly overruled the judgment and sentence. The
result was received with manifestations of joy. The defendants,
whose cruel prosecution had been protracted for six months,
had an ovation in the congratulations of their friends and
fellow-citizens. Strangers at a distance, feeling that public
liberty had suffered through them, sent their sympathy. The
press gave expression to the prevailing sentiment. Nor was Mr.
Sumner forgotten. The defendants made haste by telegraph to
say: “Accept the lasting gratitude of Smith Brothers, their
families, and their many friends.” Others wrote in the same
spirit,--as, for instance, J. C. Hoadley, of New Bedford, who,
though not knowing the sufferers, said: “I thank you, in the
name of all fair dealing, for your opinion upon the case of
Franklin W. Smith”; and John Clark, who, having been connected
with the press in Boston, had passed into the public service,
wrote from Norfolk:--
“Will you permit me to thank you for your able exposition
of the case of the Smith Brothers? I do not know those
parties; but I am interested in public liberty, and I have
seen no abler defender of it, since the beginning of the
war, than you have shown yourself to be on this occasion. I
thank you, Sir.”
From these expressions it appears that the effort of Mr. Sumner
was regarded as not only a defence of the individual citizen,
but a contribution to good government. The testimony of Mr.
Clark was of the more value, as he had not been accustomed to
sympathize with Mr. Sumner in his public course.
* * * * *
Independent of its character, this case has an incidental
interest. It was one of the last, if not the last, having a
personal relation, that ever occupied the mind of President
Lincoln. His indorsement, overruling the judgment and sentence,
bears date March 18th. This was Saturday. Meanwhile the
Rebellion was about to fall, and the President left Washington,
by boat, Thursday, March 23d, for City Point, the headquarters
of the Army of Virginia, where he remained till after the
surrender of Richmond, returning to Washington Sunday evening,
April 9th, and being assassinated Friday evening, April 14th.
* * * * *
Some circumstances associated with this case help exhibit the
character of the President. They will be stated briefly. As
soon as Mr. Sumner had prepared his Opinion, he hurried to
the President. It was late in the afternoon, and the latter
was about entering his carriage for a drive, when Mr. Sumner
arrived with the papers in his hand. He at once mentioned the
result he had reached, and added that it was a case for instant
action. The President proposed that he should return the next
day, when he would consider it with him. Mr. Sumner rejoined,
that, in his opinion, the President ought not to sleep on
the case,--that he should interfere promptly for the relief
of innocent fellow-citizens,--and urged, that, if Abraham
Lincoln had suffered unjust imprisonment as a criminal, with
degradation before his neighbors, an immense bill of expense,
a trial by court-martial, and an unjust condemnation, he would
cry out against any postponement of justice for a single day.
The President, apparently impressed by Mr. Sumner’s earnestness
and his personal appeal, appointed eleven o’clock that evening,
when he would go over the case, and hear Mr. Sumner’s Opinion.
Accordingly, at eleven o’clock that evening, in the midst of a
thunder-storm, filling the streets with water, and threatening
chimneys, Mr. Sumner made his way to the Presidential mansion.
At the very hour named he was received, and at the request
of the President proceeded to read his Opinion. The latter
listened attentively, with occasional comments, and at the
close showed his sympathy with the respondents. It was now
twenty minutes after midnight, when the President said that
he would write his conclusion at once, and that Mr. Sumner
must come and hear it the next morning,--“when I open shop,”
said he. “And when do you open shop?” Mr. Sumner inquired.
“At nine o’clock,” was the reply. At that hour Mr. Sumner was
in the office he had left after midnight, when the President
came running in, and read at once the indorsement in his own
handwriting, as follows:--
“I am unwilling for the sentence to stand and be
executed, to any extent, in this case. In the absence
of a more adequate motive than the evidence discloses,
I am wholly unable to believe in the existence of
criminal or fraudulent intent on the part of one of such
well-established good character as is the accused. If the
evidence went as far toward establishing a guilty profit
of one or two hundred thousand dollars, as it does of one
or two hundred dollars, the case would, on the question of
guilt, bear a far different aspect. That on this contract,
involving from one million to twelve hundred thousand
dollars, the contractors should attempt a fraud which at
the most could profit them only one or two hundred, or even
one thousand dollars, is to my mind beyond the power of
rational belief. That they did not, in such a case, strike
for greater gains proves that they did not, with guilty or
fraudulent intent, strike at all. The judgment and sentence
are disapproved and declared null, and the accused ordered
to be discharged.
“A. LINCOLN.
“March 18, 1865.”
Then followed an incident as original as anything in the
life of Henry the Fourth, of France, or of a Lacedæmonian
king. As Mr. Sumner was making an abstract of the indorsement
for communication by telegraph to the anxious parties, the
President broke into quotation from Petroleum V. Nasby, and,
seeing that his visitor was less at home than himself in this
patriotic literature, he said, “I must initiate you,” and then
repeated with enthusiasm the message he had sent to the author:
“For the genius to write these things I would gladly give up
my office.” Then rising and turning to a standing-desk behind,
he opened it and took out a pamphlet collection of the letters
already published, which he proceeded to read aloud, evidently
enjoying it much. For the time he seemed to forget the case
he had just decided, and Presidential duties. This continued
more than twenty minutes, when Mr. Sumner, thinking there must
be many at the door waiting to see the President on graver
matters, took advantage of a pause, and, thanking him for the
lesson of the morning, left. Some thirty persons, including
Senators and Representatives, were in the anteroom as he passed
out.[185]
Though with the President much during the intervening days
before his death, this was the last business Mr. Sumner
transacted with him.