JFK's Hero: Senator Edmund G. Ross of Kansas
by JFK
Kennedy, John F. Profiles in Courage. NY: Harper
& Row, 1956. Pp.111-132.
"In a lonely grave, forgotten and unknown, lies 'the
man who saved a President,' and who as a result
may well have preserved for ourselves and
posterity constitutional government in the United
States -- the man who performed in 1868 what one
historian has called 'the most heroic act in
American history, incomparably more difficult than
any deed of valor upon the field of battle' -- but a
United States Senator whose name no one
recalls: Edmund G. Ross of Kansas.
President Andrew Johnson was determined to
carry out the policies of Lincoln, to reconcile with
the defeated South, while the radical members of
his own party intended to use the southern states
as conquered lands, stripped of all rights by the
loss of the war.
Johnson the executive, was untactful, and
considered a drunkard. He had courage, though:
he'd been the only southern member of congress
who would not vote to secede along with his state.
Lincoln's approach was clear when he was killed.
When the radical leaders presumed to proceed
with an opposite agenda, Johnson not only
blocked the way, but opposed the majority
belligerently.
Ross entered congress in 1866, when Johnson
was in process of repeatedly vetoing bills he
thought were unconstitutional, including martial
law over the south and interference with the
authority of the executive branch by the legislature.
Johnson's vetoes were the first ever overridden,
thus law was being dictated by the legislative
branch over the head of the president.
Some of Johnson's vetoes were being upheld,
however, and as a result the radicals turned a rage
on him that exceeded what they were directing at
the defeated military enemy. Impeachment was
coming. The only question was whether the two-thirds majority necessary to convict and remove the
president was present.
The effort to form a certain two-thirds radical
majority was determining every move the Senate
made, from the admission of new states and
readmission of former confederate states to very
shady games in denying senatorial seats to pro-Johnson electees.
Kansas was one of the most radical states. Their
senator Jim Lane had gone against the sense of
his constituency in voting to uphold a Johnson veto
and again supporting Johnson in recognizing
Arkansas as a new state. Kansans had held a
mass demonstration in Lawrence, condemning
Senator Lane so viciously that the hated man
broke under the strain, committing suicide on July
1, 1866.
Edmund Ross had been the very man to lead the
attack on Lane in Lawrence, and radicals were
delighted when Ross was chosen to succeed to
the vacated Senate seat.
Ross had been a fervent abolitionist all his adult
life, rescuing fugitive slaves in his home state of
Wisconsin and joining the flood of activists who
moved to "bleeding" Kansas in 1856 to keep it a
free territory. He had fought for the Kansas Free
State Army to drive out the proslavery forces
invading the territory before the Civil War. By 1862
he was a major in the Union Army.
His opposition to Lane seemed to confirm his
support for the anti-southern agenda dominating
congress after the war.
August 5, 1867, President Johnson demanded the
resignation of Secretary of war Edwin M. Stanton,
who plainly sought to rule the south as a
dictatorship. Stanton defied the order, but Johnson
replaced him with General Grant, who was the one
man Stanton dared not resist.
The Senate insisted on Stanton's reinstatement in
early 1868 and Grant vacated the office. Stanton
was now barred from Cabinet meetings and
forbidden to associate with former colleagues in
the executive branch. Johnson again ordered
Stanton removed from his position in February.
Stanton barricaded himself in his office. Public
opinion was very much against the president. The
resolution to impeach was passed and the
fanatical leader of the House, Thaddeus Stevens
of Pennsylvania, warned that anyone who opposed
would suffer heavily in person and in the eyes of
history.
The impeachment, or indictment, operated as a
trial on various charges, presided over by the Chief
Justice. Johnson never attended a session.
The oath of "impartial justice" was even sworn to
by angry radical Benjamin Wade, senator from
Ohio and President Pro Tempore of the Senate,
thus next in line for the Presidency.
The galleries held 1000 witnesses every day.
The prosecution, led by former general Benjamin
butler, "the butcher of New Orleans", proceeded
from March 5 to May 16. The main charge was a
catch-all, to permit those unwilling to identify their
specific grievances to vote against the president
anyway.
The defense asserted that Stanton must vacate
office, then sue to be replaced in the courts.
Fairness was not a problem. Evidence in the
President's favor was arbitrarily excluded.
Prejudgment was openly announced by most of
the jury, or Senate. Bribery and threats were the
chief lines of "debate". The legal process was not
an issue; only the gathering of votes necessary to
convict.
There were 27 states in the Union, excluding the
South. 54 Senators sat on the jury, of whom 36
would be required to form the two-thirds necessary
to remove Johnson.
The 12 democratic votes were with Johnson. The
42 Republicans needed to secure 36 votes from
among their number. Somehow, six Republican
senators stood up against their party's agenda.
The other 36 had to stand firm or lose at this major
turning point in history.
The only Republican who would not announce his
verdict preliminary to the trial was Ross. His
extreme anti-Johnson constitutuency was outraged
that he could so much as entertain any doubt.
Ross was warned not to turn "against his country".
Strange, since Ross had declared allegiance to
Radical Republican policy and voted without
comment for all their moves. He did not like
President Johnson personally, nor support him
politically. He supported the contested removal of
Stanton. He stood with the majority on everything.
Still, somehow, he declined to surrender his vote
as demanded, so that the whole national struggle
suddenly turned on the vote of this one man, Ross.
Where for others the question was one of
allegiance, for Ross the issue had been, since the
day of the impeachment, the need for a fair trial.
All seven independent-minded Republican
senators were followed, pilloried in the press and
threatened daily with assassination. The violent
country had only recently been a slaughterhouse
over this same split. A lot of people wanted the
South to pay in the worst way.
Ross in particular was dogged mercilessly, like a
hunted animal. His mind and body were a horrible
crossroads where contending armies came
together.
He had no independent means and would answer to
the most radical state in the union. He was
considered especially vulnerable to coercion, as
such. Even so, his opinion was not known.
Powerful people waited at his door all night for an
audience he did not choose to grant. His brother
was offered $20,000 (millions in today's currency)
to reveal his intentions. Prosecutor Butler asked
"'How much does the damned scoundrel want?'"
The night before the critical vote on May 16, Ross
received a telegram from "D.R. Anthony and 1,000
others" demanding he convict the president. On
the morning of the vote, Ross replied "'To D.R.
Anthony and 1,000 Others: I do not recognize your
right to demand that I vote either for or against
conviction. I have taken an oath to do impartial
justice according to the constitution and laws, and
trust that I shall have the courage to vote according
to the dictates of my judgment and for the highest
good of the country.'" (120)
He was warned ten minutes before the vote by
Kansas' other senator that he would be ruined by
any means necessary if he did not do the
majority's will.
The House adjourned and its 250 members
flooded into the senate chamber. All the Cabinet
Officers were there. Even the morbidly sick
Senator Grimes of Iowa was carried in.
The silence was described as "deathlike."
Several legislators became ill from suspense. All
movement ceased, down to the shuffling of feet.
The first vote would be the deciding one, on the
catch-all Eleventh Article, because it had the widest
support and would, of itself, reveal the final
outcome.
Ross' name was the 25th called by the Chief
Justice. By that time, 24 had voted to remove
Johnson. Ten more were certain to follow and one
other almost certain. Only Ross was truly in
question and no one in the room knew his intent.
The tremendous emotion of the moment was
evident in the Chief Justice's voice as he put the
question: "'Mr. Senator Ross, how say you?'"
Ross later said that his "'powers of hearing and
seeing seemed developed in an abnormal
degree.'" (122)
Looking around him, he saw some with hands
raised as if to shield themselves from a blow. He
thought the intensity in the faces was "almost
tragic". Hate and hope passed across most faces
in alternating waves. Ross said he had tried to
get free of this position as he saw it coming, as if
struggling to escape a nightmare. "'I almost
literally looked down into my open grave.
Friendships, position, fortune, everything that
makes life desirable to an ambitious man were
about to be swept away by the breath of my mouth,
perhaps forever.'" Then he answered the question.
His voice had quavered, and did not reach the far
side of the chamber. Senators on the far side of
the chamber called for him to repeat what he had
said. So he answered again, this time loudly and
unmistakably:
"'Not guilty.'"
The trial was over, the President saved, the rest of
the roll call unimportant. Conviction had failed by
one vote and the Chief Justice announced the
verdict as 35 for, 19 opposed. The greatest crisis
in the history of the executive branch before Nixon
was past. The will of congress had not been
enough to overturn the role of the executive, in
effect destroying the balance of power held by the
framers to be essential to the rational operation of
government.
During the ensuing ten-day recess, other issues
were raised in an attempt to change votes on the
remaining articles, but nothing could be done in
that short a time. Ross remained the only
uncommitted vote on the other articles, and was
subjected to vilification including perjury by
professional witnesses before the Senate. Ross
returned to his function as Senator and even
carried a few bills to the White House in his
capacity as chairman of one committee.
When the impeachment proceedings reconvened,
Ross alone among the "renegade" senators voted
with the radicals on procedural matters. When the
remaining articles of impeachment were read, with
the greatest suspense again dominating the
chamber, Ross again voted a calm "'Not guilty.'"
Ross still disliked Johnson. His motive was clear
from his essays years later in Scribner's and
Forum magazines. He had voted against
"congressional autocracy... the worst element of
American politics... .'" (124)
A justice of the Kansas supreme court urged
Ross to follow Lane's example in committing
suicide. A Kansas editor wrote that Ross had
"'signed the death warrant of his country's liberty.'"
(ibid.)
He had indeed been looking down into his open,
political grave.
Stanton left office. Johnson served out his term
and returned as a senator from Tennessee. His
defenders were ruined. People avoided Ross on
the street. The stories of the other senators who
voted with him against the will of their party should
be known.
All were retired by their electorates into infamy, low
income and physical attack.
It is ironic that not a single law bears Ross' name.
History books ignore him. Lists of the "great"
senators make no mention of him. If not for his
inclusion in JFK's Profiles in Courage, his story
would be as good as forgotten.
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