The judge advocate-general, Holt, as well as the military chiefs, were
in despair at their superior trifling with the laws of war by
suspending mortal decrees, and, in short, in hunting up excuses for
delaying the blow of justice. Once the judge brought to the President a
case so flagrant that he did not doubt that, for a rarity, the chief
would sign without any cavil and hesitation. A soldier had demoralized
his regiment in the nick of a battle by dashing down his rifle and
hiding behind a tree. He had not a friend or relative to sue for him.
Despite all this, the Executive laid down the pen quivering between his
long fingers, and said:
"Holt, I think I must, after all, file this away with my 'Leg Cases.'"
And thrust the paper in one of a series of pigeonholes already crammed
with the like.
The judge was taken off his guard by the inconsistent levity, and
demanded the meaning of the term with acerbity.
"Holt, were you ever in battle?" he counter queried.
The man of law was a man of peace; he had seen lead, but in seals, not
bullets.
Secretary of War Stanton was spurring the military justice on, as often
before.
"Did Stanton ever march in the first line, to be shot at like this man?"
Holt answered for his colleague in the negative.
"Well, I tried it in the Black Hawk War!" proceeded the Illinoisian,
"and I remember one time I grew awful weak in the legs when I heard the
bullets whistle around me and saw the enemy in front of me. How my legs
carried me forward I cannot now tell, for I thought every minute that I
should sink to the ground. I am opposed to having soldiers shot for not
facing danger when it is not known that their legs would carry them
into danger! Well, judge, you see the papers crowded in there? You call
them cases of 'Cowardice in the face of the enemy,' a long title, but I
call them my 'Leg Cases,' for short!--and I put it to you, Holt, and
leave it to you to decide for yourself, if Almighty God gives a man a
_cowardly pair of legs,_ how can he help them running away with him?"
* * * * *