from office.
Again Stoneman passed his first act to reduce the "conquered provinces" of
the South to negro rule.
President Johnson vetoed it with a message of such logic in defence of the
constitutional rights of the States that it failed by one vote to find the
two-thirds majority needed to become a law without his approval.
The old Commoner's eyes froze into two dagger-points of icy light when
this vote was announced.
With fury he cursed the President, but above all he cursed the men of his
own party who had faltered.
As he fumbled his big hands nervously, he growled:
"If I only had five men of genuine courage in Congress, I'd hang the man
at the other end of the avenue from the porch of the White House! But I
haven't got them--cowards, dastards, dolts, and snivelling fools----"
His decision was instantly made. He would expel enough Democrats from the
Senate and the House to place his two-thirds majority beyond question. The
name of the President never passed his lips. He referred to him always,
even in public debate, as "the man at the other end of the avenue," or
"the former Governor of Tennessee who once threatened rebels--the late
lamented Andrew Johnson, of blessed memory."
He ordered the expulsion of the new member of the House from Indiana,
Daniel W. Voorhees, and the new Senator from New Jersey, John P. Stockton.
This would give him a majority of two thirds composed of men who would
obey his word without a question.
Voorhees heard of the edict with indignant wrath. He had met Stoneman in
the lobbies, where he was often the centre of admiring groups of friends.
His wit and audacity, and, above all, his brutal frankness, had won the
admiration of the "Tall Sycamore of the Wabash." He could not believe such
a man would be a party to a palpable fraud. He appealed to him
personally:
"Look here, Stoneman," the young orator cried with wrath, "I appeal to
your sense of honour and decency. My credentials have been accepted by
your own committee, and my seat been awarded me. My majority is
unquestioned. This is a high-handed outrage. You cannot permit this
crime."
The old man thrust his deformed foot out before him, struck it
meditatively with his cane, and looking Voorhees straight in the eye,
boldly said:
"There's nothing the matter with your majority, young man. I've no doubt
it's all right. Unfortunately, you are a Democrat, and happen to be the
odd man in the way of the two-thirds majorit
|