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IMPEACHMENT of President Andrew Johnson
Final Vote in the Senate on the Eleventh Article
The President Acquitted of the Offences Charged
Adjournment of the Court
Without a Further Vote.
An Investigation to be
Made of the Bribery and Corruption Charges.
Special Dispatch to The New-York Times – May 16, 1868
Washington, Saturday, May 16.-- The great
impeachment drama is practically at an end, and the President stands acquitted
of the principal charge. Nineteen votes against thirty-five -- just enough, and
no more, to turn the scale of verdict. Twelve Democrats and seven Republicans --
that magical number of seven -- against thirty-five Republicans! My calculations
since Tuesday are fully verified. Thirty-six was the best vote the friends of
conviction could possibly count upon after Tuesday, and ever since then the
fight has been to get the one necessary vote for conviction on the other. The
debate of Monday developed the fact that the President had five Republican votes
sure. Senator Fowler's course developed the fact on Tuesday that he had six. It
has been the work of the week to get the seventh man, and Edmund G. Ross, of
Kansas, was secured. When Gen. Thos. Ewing, Jr., said yesterday that Ross would
vote for acquittal if necessary to secure it, he knew whereof he spoke.
The morning opened with the most agreeable
atmosphere we have yet had in this cold, chilly month of May. Possessors of
tickets started early for the Capitol, and before 11 o'clock the best seats were
all taken. Senators made their appearance very slowly. At 11:30 o'clock, when
the Senate was called to order scarce a quorum was present. They dropped in one
by one, seeming loth to step up to the task. The friends of conviction were
heavy-hearted, for they know the last condition of Ross. The friends of
acquittal were light hearted for they also knew his last condition.
At 12 o'clock the galleries were crowded. Every
ticket was in use. The diplomatic box overflowed as it rarely does. The
reporters gallery was as usual, inundated by the friends of easy natured Mr.
Wade, representing unheard of advocates of his aspirations. The day was
propitious for fine toilettes, and the dramatic effect was brilliant outside.
Thousands lingered in the corridors or strolled in the beautiful grounds,
inhaling the fresh odor of new-mown hay, waiting to catch the first vibration of
the result. Down on the streets many more thousands waited in groups and in
crowds, to hear the first note from the Capitol. The printing presses stood
still, with a hand to the lever that should start the cylinder on the first
exciting extra; the lightning quivered under the key of the telegraph, ready to
put the news round the earth like a girdle in a minute. Everywhere and
everything, and everybody but time, waited on impeachment.
Twelve o'clock rang out from the city bells, and
the black-robed Chief Justice assumed the chair, while Ben. Wade assumed his
Senatorial seat with a determination fully aroused to vote or die. The sick
Senators had begun to arrive. Conkling, pale, but straight and firm and
dignified, as he always is, sat erect in his chair. Morton was also there,
determined and sincere, promising to be the statesman of the Senate. Howard was
brought in leaning on the arms of friends, walking very feebly, and tottering
into his chair with a heavy shawl thrown around him. Mr. Grimes was brought in
by four men in an invalid's chair, and allowed to recline on his side without
taking his seat. Mr. Fessenden had just begun to be nervous about him, and had
moved a half-hour postponement, when he came in. On the floor were Sickles, Gen.
Holt, Anthony Trollope, and a score more of notables.
At 12:15 o'clock the House of Representatives were
announced, every man of them who is in the city being present. The galleries,
the chamber, the Senate, and the court were now all full. The Managers sat at
their table and Mr. Evarts, Mr. Groesbeck and Mr. Nelson at theirs. All eagerly
and anxiously awaited the calling of the roll. It had been resolved in
consultation last night, however, that the eleventh article, being the
strongest, should be voted on first, and this necessitated a little preliminary
business, for it was necessary to take it up, and then necessary to agree to it,
which necessitated two roll-calls. The result on these motions was thirty-four
to nineteen, Mr. Grimes not voting, which was immediately conceded to be a test
vote, and to indicate acquittal, Messrs. Ross and Wiley voting against the
change. But now comes the vote. The Chief Justice rises in his seat, and in
grave tones enjoined the galleries to the strictest observance of order. The
galleries bow in silent assent, and are reminded that the injunction is
unnecessary, for in each aisle stands three muscular policemen with drawn batons
ready to cleave the skull of the first person who shall demonstrate unseemly.
Even the reporters' gallery is not exempt. As if to be sure that none escape the
insult, a policeman, with club in hand and revolver in belt, stands at each end
of the rows of desks. The Sergeant-at-Arms disclaims the responsibility for this
exhibition, and says Senators demand it. Let Senators employ some of this brute
force occasionally in carrying debauchees from its floor, and the reporters will
not complain.
The eleventh article is now read. The Clerk calls
"Mr. Anthony." Mr. Anthony rises in his seat, and the Chief Justice says, "Mr.
Senator Anthony -- How say you, is Andrew Johnson, President of the United
States, guilty or not guilty of a high misdemeanor, as charged in this article?"
Mr. Anthony, with the poise of self-possession and the demeanor of an elegant
gentleman, answers in clear, decided tones, "Guilty." A suppressed murmur of
approbation runs through the galleries, and doubts about Mr. Anthony are
scattered to the wind. Bayard and Buckalew were called in quick succession, and
responded in indistinct undertones "not guilty." Then came the long list of
"C's." First the shrewd Cameron, who pronounced his judgement of guilty almost
before the question was asked. Then by the merchants Chandler and Cattell, past
Cole, to the able lawyer and graceful man Conkling, past Conness and Corbett to
the matter-of-fact Mr. Cragin, all answering with gravity, deliberation and
decision, "guilty." Then came the garrulous Mr. Davis, and sarcastic smiles when
the conscientious Mr. Doolittle and the precise Mr. Dixon announced their votes
of "not guilty." Next the fiery Mr. Drake, "guilty," clear and strong. Then
Edmunds and Ferry, calm and dignified with their verdict of "guilty." Then all
eyes turned to the centre of the Chamber, as the tall form of the frail and
fragile Fessenden arose at the call of his name and with graceful demeanor, but
visible agitation, responded very decidedly, "not guilty." Then came Fowler,
who, with agitation staggered from his seat, stumbled on his chair, and was lost
quite a minute before he recorded his vote, "not guilty," amid suppressed
execrations. Next the classic Frelinghuysen, grave but calm, silenced all doubts
by his vote of "guilty." The next name was Mr. Grimes, who, from his reclining
position, reinforced his argument against conviction with his vote. After him
the phlegmatic Mr. Harlan put his convictions into affirmative shape. Next Mr.
Henderson shot from his seat trembling with agitation, but sending his "not
guilty" to the corners of the Chamber by his clear prompt tones. Next feeble Mr.
Howard, rising in his seat with visible fatigue, replied in an emphatic
"guilty." After him, Mr. Howe, pale but unconcerned, on the side of "guilty."
Next Mr. Johnson gruffly, and Mr. McCreery sharply, "not guilty." All eyes next
turned on the merchant prince and Senator from New-York, Mr. Morgan, who
pronounced his verdict of "guilty," in behalf of the business of the country as
well as his own convictions. Then the two Morrills of Maine and Vermont, and
Morton, bold and defiant, followed on the same side. After them the quiet Mr.
Norton, scarcely heard, so faint was his vote of "not guilty." Next, Mr. Nye,
full and strong, and after him the cultivated Mr. Patterson, of New-Hampshire,
both "guilty." Then, came the President's son-in-law, Mr. Patterson, of Tennesse,
quickly and with evident pleasure responded "not guilty." After him, Pomeroy and
Ramsey, prompt and positive "guilty." Then a thousand pair of eyes shot into the
very heart of the modest, quiet little man who rises, at the call of the name of
Ross. Nervously and quickly he responds, "not guilty." A suppressed condemnation
is heard on all hands, and the fate of impeachment is sealed. The remaining
votes cannot save it. The call goes quickly on down by Sherman, Sprague, Sumner
to Trumbull, who winces under the flashing of indignant eyes, past him to old
Ben Wade, who redeems his promise to vote without squirming, then to Willey, who
was doubtful, but who sits gray-bearded in his chair, like an ironbound Puritan
and responds, "Guilty." Then to the foot of the list and the result is flashed
to the ends of the earth, the President is acquitted, thirty-five to nineteen,
not two-thirds, by just exactly one vote too much and no more.
In an instant a motion is made to adjourn, as
agreed upon in caucus before the Senate met, to Tuesday, the 26th inst.
Cool-headed men feel that this is foolish and absurd. Let us finish this work at
once, they say. But the rash men are the strongest. The rest of the articles are
postponed, and the president, though practically acquitted, is left hanging by
the eye-lids, to the disgust of the entire country.
The
indignation centres terribly and almost wholly upon poor Ross, and he has a hard
position to occupy. Five times, once in writing, as his colleague Pomeroy says,
he can swear he has promised to vote for conviction. So late as last night at
dinner at the latters house he promised. Until within two or three days he has
never been doubted. He was not outspoken except to his friends, to whom he
frankly stated ten days ago that his opinion was that the President was guilty.
So much evidence of this kind is in existence that his friends are overwhelmed
with shame and grief at his alleged duplicity.
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