Tennessee Johnson (1942) - full transcript

This biopic focuses on Andrew Johnson, the first American president to be impeached. Initially an uneducated drifter who stumbles upon a job as a tailor in a Tennessee town, Johnson is taught to read by librarian and future wife, Eliza. Eliza convinces him to enter a local election, and, from there, Johnson rises swiftly. However, after inheriting the presidency in the wake of Abraham Lincoln's assassination, he finds himself on unsteady political ground.

There.

See that?

We didn't see nothing, stranger.

I see'd you sewing, though.

First time I ever see a man sew like that.

I done tailoring.

How much you want to sew
the seat in a pair of britches?

I don't want work here.

I'm going west.

I don't, uh,

aim to take something for nothing.



I'll... I'll patch them britches.

Pretty square tailor, ain't ya?

Sit down till I get my garment.

Where you coming from, stranger?

East.

Where you heading?

West.

What do you want out there?

Land.

Don't talk much, do you?

Not unless I get something to say.

- Here she is.
- Uh...

It might take a week of filing.

I-if you get your nippers, you could...



You're a fugitive.

- I'd be aiding.
- You, uh...

I--

I was, uh, I was bound to a tailor

back in Carolina.

Runaway apprentice?

You don't look young enough for that.

You think I'm lying.

Well, here.

Read this.

When an apprentice lights
out and gets caught again

he's got to serve out his time, don't he?

- Miss Eliza! Miss Eliza!
- Look!

Well, where'd you get that?

Howdy, Miss McCardle.

Oh, good day, Blackstone.

- Hello, Sam, Mordecai.
- Howdy, Miss McCardle.

- McCardle.
- Hello, Mrs. Fisher.

Good afternoon.

You know those new boxes
of books that came?

I figured out how much
shelf space is wanted, see?

If you could bring some boards
and a hammer and some nails--

I'll be right up to the library,
Miss McCardle,

as soon as I get Mrs. Fisher's
mule shoed up.

- Hello, Sheriff.
- Good afternoon, McDaniel.

Mordecai, who is he?

Says he's apprentice what lit out.

That what it says there?

Yes, but they can't touch
a runaway apprentice

here in Tennessee, across the state line.

Forget what I asked you,
I'll patch your britches,

as pay for this file here
and be getting down the road.

Never mind the britches now.

Come here.

Put your foot up here.

This might hurt some, tailor.

Huh, hurts worse where it is.

What the Sam Hill?

Well, that's like spring steel.

Yeah. Get--get your hammer and chisel.

But it'll half-kill you.

It's been too long I got this thing on.

I'm warning you, you might lose your ankle.

Will you get your chisel?

Go on, get it!

He wants to be mule-headed...

Speaking of mule..

Gram of White Mule might help some.

I.--I can't touch that stuff.

It makes me sicker than a hound dog.

You know, this town could
maybe use a man like you.

Don't talk much, don't drink,
lots of spunk.

Ain't been a tailor hereabouts

since ol' Finney got drunk
and sewed his finger

to a leg of the parson's pants.

I ain't looking to do tailoring, ma'am.

Man what can get to own land
don't get chained up.

Man who can sew like you
could soon buy an acre here.

Lots of folks here ain't got no basement
nor britches.

Brace his foot.

Good morning!

- Morning, Miss McCardle.
- Morning, Miss Eliza.

Oh, that's a fine job, Mordecai.

I'm getting a pair of
brand-new britches for doing this.

Well, I thought those old ones of yours

would be too much for any tailor.

Well, Mrs. Fisher!

Them cobwebs ain't been swept out

since the Grangers lit out west,
Miss McCardle.

And I'll be choking and spitting for weeks

to get the dust out of my lungs.

Well, aren't you a good neighbor?

I ain't been messing about in
there to help that mule head.

I'm a-gettin' paid.

I'm gonna have the first new dress

since the one I wore the day
the parson tied me up.

Good morning, Mr. Johnson.

Morning.

We haven't exactly met before.

I'm Eliza McCardle
from the library across the street.

Yes, miss.

Everyone's so pleased to have
a tailor here again in Greeneville.

Thank you, miss.

I-it saves so much trouble

not having to take my cloak
and dress down to Nashville.

Am I your first customer?

Oh.

It was you left that?

I guess you are, then, miss.

Is my work ready?

Oh, you shouldn't be about on that foot.

It does a man's foot good
getting a shackle knocked off it.

Yes, of course.

Everyone's talking about what happened
at the blacksmith's shop.

What happened at the blacksmith's

ain't nobody's business!

Mr. Johnson.

Forgot myself, miss, don't...

don't pay no mind.

I'll take my clothes now, if you please.

There ain't nothing been done
to them clothes, miss.

Those clothes.

But the instructions are plainly written.

I know, miss, but...

I can't read.

"Will you please lengthen
the dress two inches at the hem

and mend tear in cloak."

I'll have it fixed tomorrow.

Oh.

How much will it cost?

I ain't asking no favors
from anybody, but...

a fair bargain's a fair bargain.

I don't understand.

You... you know about books?

A little, yes, but...

I asked you how much my work would cost.

And you--you speak nice.

"Them clothes," I said.

Oh, I corrected you.

It--it just slipped out.

It was forward of me, I'm afraid.

No, miss.

I-I got to learn to speak right.

You speak about the nicest I know of.

Miss McCardle,

I'll sew you all the clothes
you can bring me, homespun,

if you'll learn me to read and write.

Your proposal, Mr. Johnson,
seems rather unusual.

Miss McCardle.

I'll think it over.

I--

I'm making you a fair offer.

I-I never had no chance to learn.
Will you learn me?

I have never had a chance to learn.

Will you teach me.

Will you teach me?

"There is a lady sweet and kind,

was never face so pleased my mind,

I did but see her passing by

and yet I love her till I die."

Please go on.

It's past time to close the library.

Got to get home and
read something besides poetry.

Andrew.

You've learned to read almost as well as I.

You've made so many new clothes for me,
it's almost sinful.

Why do you want to go on with the lessons?

Is this the...

Words, I read somewhere,

are verses the heart sets to music.

Eliza, there's...

music inside me that
almost drowns out my thinking.

But I'm a poor man

and the law says a white man
without property

is nothing but a mudsill

for other men to wipe their boots on.

Why, no law says that.

It don't have to say it,
it's true, ain't it?

Your people owned a house and land.

How did my father get a house and land?

By cobbling shoes for 20 years.

My father was nothing
but a mudsill, and he died one.

Poor white trash,
that was him, and that's me.

I'll be going now.

Andrew.

Don't you know we were all mudsills once?

Forget the history of England for tonight.

Read your own history.

Here.

The Declaration of Independence.

I've heard that spouted by stump speakers

every Fourth of July since I can remember.

Well, maybe you didn't understand it.

Read this part here.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident

that all men are created equal."

Uh, they're fine words,
but they ain't true.

Ain't no equality for mudsills.

Go on.

"That they are...

endowed by their Creator with certain...

unalin--una--"

"Unalienable rights."

Rights no man can take away.

Well, they have taken them away.

What are you making me
read this for, anyway?

Go on.

"That among these are life, liberty,

and the pursuit of happiness."

Why, a man ain't even got a right to vote

without he owns property.

Then why don't you make it your business

to see that men without property
are given the right to vote?

- My business?
- Certainly.

You've got a temper, Andrew,

but people like you.

Go out and talk to them.

Make speeches.

Stand up for your rights and theirs, too.

People wouldn't listen to me.

I think they would.

Anyway, the Constitution says
you can try to make them listen.

I s-suppose you'll be making me read
the Constitution out loud to you.

I will, if it will help you
to understand it

and realize that everything
in the Bill of Rights

and the Declaration, too,
means you, personally.

You, Andrew Johnson.

It seems as--as if...

Maybe I never really
understood this before.

The Constitution, neither.

I suppose plain people can't agitate

the way you want me to
in them foreign countries.

- Those foreign countries.
- Those.

No, of course they can't.

The reason this is a free country

is because here,
what's wrong can be set right.

Whatever is wrong has got
to be set right by the people.

You're the people.

This is your country as much as theirs.

It's my--my fish in the stream.

Your flag on the fort.

"It's life, liberty..."

Finish the sentence, Andrew.

"The pursuit of happiness."

They're all yours.

The pursuit of happiness, too.

The pursuit of happiness.

And it says we were created...

Go on.

Equal.

What it says must be right, Andrew.

Created equal, you and me.

Yes, Andrew.

"Votes for all free men."

More than a year now,
he's been putting leveling ideas like that

into common folks' heads, Sheriff.

Mm-hmm.

White trash got enough to do
hustling to make a living.

And not sticking their snouts

into what don't rightly concern them.

Goes on like this,
he'll rouse up the whole county.

Too many property interests involved,
Sheriff Cass.

You see, Mrs. Johnson,

them that own the country should run it.

A man with land pays taxes, don't he?

So ain't it right that he should have a say

how the money is spent?

Now you tell your husband to leave voting

to the men of property.

They'll look after the interests
of folks like you.

Well, surely, that's a matter
of opinion, Sheriff.

You have no right
to keep him from speaking.

Bill of Rights says
there should be no law made

to abridge freedom of speech.

We're living in Tennessee.

Well, we ain't abiding by no federal laws,

less'n they suit us.

Well, nothing's legal in this town

if the Aldermen don't like it.

Now, they don't like tailors
rousing up the white trash

and making leveling speeches.

Goodnight.

Uh, now don't forget,

you tell Andy
he ain't gonna hold no more meetings.

Now, he's got a temper.

Better make him see reason,

else'n he might get hurt.

- Evening, Eliza.
- Evening.

You're late for supper, dear.

I had to go over and
fit Mr. Bronson's coat.

What was that hard-shelled,
rum-dipped sheriff doing here?

What's the matter, Martha?

Hey, she ain't sick, is she?

No, no, it's just her teeth bothering her.

She used to sleep all the time.

Now take your coats right off.

Andrew, I kept a nice bit of salt pork warm

and those baby cabbages you like so much.

There's plenty for Mordecai, too.

Uh, that's mighty fine of you,

but it'll taste just as good cold.

It's time to get my notes
and go to the meeting.

You'd better mind little Martha.

I'd make a lot better speech
with you there listening.

Why, Eliza, you're all tensed up.

Andrew, that meeting last week,

there was some trouble, wasn't there?

It didn't come to anything.

Yes, but if one night it did,

if someone got hurt...

Eliza, what...

what was Cass doing here?

Ain't exactly like the sheriff
to come social visiting.

Eliza?

Well, he came to say that the Aldermen
won't allow the meeting tonight.

Won't allow it?

Well, I've got a piece to speak.

That's what free speech
is in the Constitution for,

so as I can speak it.

- Come on, Milligan.
- We'll get our friends.

What he really came to say was

you can't hold meetings at all anymore

or you might get hurt.

Andrew, put away that gun. Please.

- Stay home.
- No, Eliza.

Andrew, you shan't do this. You shan't!

Nothing can keep me from going.

Andrew! Mordecai!

Don't worry none, Eliza.

I promise, nothing will happen to Andrew.

Mrs. Johnson! Mrs. Johnson!

There's been a bad ruckus at the town hall!

No. No, you mind the baby.

My husband. What happened?

Where are they?

Them that got hurt
was carried over to the blacksmith's shop.

Water! Get some water!

Wh-where is...

Where is...

Anybody want to buy
a first-rate blacksmith's shop?

Mordecai Milligan's dead.

- Where are you going?
- To get Sheriff Cass.

That ain't no private affair of yourn.

How many men can we get together?

I got close to 20 cousins in the county

ain't standing by
and see me get no hammering.

And how about Milligan's kin?

They ain't gonna put up with his killing.

We can raise a 100 men by midnight.

Them with no guns have scythes and axes.

Round 'em up! Let's get started!

If it's killing they want,
let's give it to 'em!

If I hadn't toted that gun,

Milligan would be asleep
in his bed in there.

Not dead in it.

That's right!

And we're gonna make 'em pay for it!

Put down those weapons!

You're quitting on us, tailor?

I ain't never quitting.

From now on, never.

Then come along! Join the party!

You begun this, Andy,

with your meetings

and your telling us
to stick up for our rights.

You led the scrimmage

when the sheriff's bullies
started throwing us out the hall.

You done more than your share
of fighting your own self.

And who pulled the gun first?

It'll take me more than all my life...
to pay for that.

He's quitting on us.

- Come on!
- No!

Mob fighting, shooting,
and hanging and burning,

that ain't the way!

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth!

That's Bible!

So you want to start killing.

First you kill,

the militia comes from Nashville,

then they start killing.

And the dead they leave are you,
Maude Fisher.

And, Dick, you.

And, Ebenezer, you.

And, Ethan, you. And you.

And you, McDaniel.

Yes, I--I tell you to fight
for your rights.

But the Constitution ain't for the dead,

it's to protect the living!

Ain't nothing in it I know of says
not to hang a murdering sheriff!

It--it says the law hangs murderers!

It--it says the people got
the right to make the laws!

That's--that's us!

And that's how we're gonna win
our fight election day!

And when we win it,
we'll--we'll get Cass indicted!

How?

Lots of us ain't even got a vote.

You ain't got no vote, Andy.

Well, a--a lot of us have.

Come November, I'm gonna have
my acre paid for and a vote.

Then we can elect one of our own sheriff,

a common man, one of us.

- Now you're talking crazy.
- Who'll we get?

None of us is fitting.

Most of us can't hardly read.

We ain't good enough.

We ain't got no rights!

Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness.

Those are our rights, as well as theirs.

It's o-our fish in the stream

our... our flag on the fort.

Hey! What about the tailor?

- He's fitting!
- Yes!

- That's right.
- Andy would be good.

Me? Wh...

No.

No, I-I...

I ain't fit enough.

You can read and write and figure!

- And you can speak.
- And you can fight.

How about it, Andy? You're good enough.

And fit enough.

- Eliza's right!
- Andy for sheriff!

- We can put you in!
- Andy the man.

We'll beat their pants off

and let you sew 'em up!

- Andy for sheriff!
- We want him!

We want Andy! He'll be the sheriff!

They put me up to do the introducing,

here in Greeneville, of some old friends

that don't need no introducing.

Now most of you younger folks
didn't know this lady here

when she was Miss McCardle,

a-passing out books at the library.

And there's her daughter, Martha.

You remember her.

Many of you played in the streets with her.

And now she's grown-up, too,

married, and has a little boy of her own.

And I almost forgot.

There's a man here, too.

A man that got his start in politics

when a bunch of us
made him run for sheriff.

He said he wasn't fit enough.

Well, he's been fit enough
to be made sheriff, assemblyman,

congressman, governor,

and now he comes back to
his home folks in his own town

as senator of the United States.

No, I ain't gonna introduce him,
not in Greeneville.

Welcome home, Andy! Welcome home!

I guess Blackstone McDaniel is right.

I don't need any introducing to you.

I've patched the britches of a lot of you.

And your fathers' britches before you.

I'm still wearing that first
little dress Andy made me.

Well, it's mighty fine to be home again.

My friends...

I have been a Jacksonian democrat
all my political life.

I hope we will lick
the Republicans this fall

and send Abe Lincoln
back to splitting rails in Illinois!

But people here in the South

who threaten to break up this country

if Lincoln is chosen president,

forget that in our America,

the verdict of the majority
must be accepted.

That is what I will say
in the Senate in Washington

even if Lincoln is chosen president.

I repeat, that is what
I will say in the Senate

whether you back me up
at home here in Tennessee

or whether you don't!

We of the South
have lost the election! Very well!

Mr. Lincoln will be inaugurated
president in six weeks!

The people have spoken!

Let the will of the people be done!

We can vote Mr. Lincoln
out of office in four years

and I hope and believe we shall do so!

Meanwhile, we southerners
should remain here

and prevent him from carrying out policies

that will ruin this country,

our one country!

Enough of this Yankee cackle,
you renegade to the South!

I repeat, our one country!

Does any senator dare to challenge that?

Let us keep in our hearts
the immortal toast

of that great democrat, Andrew Jackson.

"Our federal union, it must be preserved."

In the noble words of Daniel Webster,

"Liberty and union, now and forever,
one and inseparable."

The senator has been making
that same speech here

day after day for the past two months.

Like a parrot.

What can you expect from a mudsill tailor

elected by the rabble of the city

among the gentlemen of the South?

I'm proud of having been a tailor

and I'd rather sit among the rabble

than some of you self-appointed
gentlemen of the South.

- I demand an apology!
- An apology for what?

Mr. President!

While the Southern senators
make this place a beer garden

business north and south
is at a standstill!

And who is to blame?

Yes, who is to blame?

You are! You are!

Men of the North, if you force us
to fight for our liberties,

then we'll fight you!

Don't you shake your fist at us!
We're not your slaves!

- Don't you yell at us!
- Well, you started it!

Gentlemen, this is the Senate
of the United States, not a pot house!

Order in the galleries! Order on the floor!

Jefferson Davis. He's finally got here.

It's about time.
Now he can speak for all of us.

For the whole South.

The chair recognizes
the senator from Mississippi.

Mr. President of the Senate.

Senators.

I appear here...

to announce to the Senate

that Mississippi, by solemn ordinance...

and in convention assembled...

has declared her separation
from the United States.

In so doing, she has followed
others of her sister states

on whose behalf, as well as my own...

I must pronounce our solemn farewell.

Under these circumstances,
of course, my functions

and those of my colleagues terminate here.

We but tread in the path of our fathers

when we proclaim our independence

and take the hazard

putting our trust in God...

and in our own firm hearts...

and strong arms...

we will vindicate the right as best we may.

I see now around me

some with whom I have served long.

There have been points of collision.

For whatever offense I have given,

I ask forgiveness.

Or whatever of offense that has been to me,

I leave here.

I carry with me no hostile remembrance.

I go hence unencumbered
of the remembrance of injury received...

and having discharged the duty

of making the only reparation
in my power...

for any injury offered.

Mr. President,

senators,

having made the announcement

which the occasion seemed to me to require,

it remains
only for my colleagues and myself...

to bid you a final...

adieu.

Now that Tennessee has left the Union

and joined the Confederacy,

I denounce Andrew Johnson as a traitor
to the sovereign state of Tennessee!

May your black tongue rot
in your throat, you liar!

No man can call me a traitor!

Andrew.

Oh, thank you, Andrew.

I was so afraid there'd be violence.

From now on, there will be
nothing but violence, Eliza.

Nationwide violence.

No, it mustn't come to that.

Isn't there
some peaceful way of settling it?

The Southern senators walked out.

They declared war.

I'm going to Lincoln now
and offer my services

to raise troops in Tennessee
and fight for the Union.

- Where's the general, sir?
- At his gun.

Captain Brenner!

- Message from General Williams?
- Only verbal, sir.

General Williams was in action,
trying to rally the Zouaves.

Trying to rally them? What's happened?

Our center is broken!

General Williams asks that
all available reserves

be sent to him immediately!

There are no reserves!

The rebels just sent
over another white flag

with a demand to surrender Nashville!

You order General Williams for me

to shoot any man who talks of surrender!

Yes, sir.

Four more years! Four more years!

Boys! Boys! Close the window!

Come on. Let's get on with the business.

Gentlemen, not that
anyone cares, of course,

but we have one more tiresome formality

now that we've done our duty by old Abe--

Wasn't us delegates re-nominated
Lincoln by acclamation.

The country done that.

Sir, I'm not accustomed
to being interrupted.

Thad Stevens.

Most of us delegates ain't congressmen

and you can't treat us like you do
that tame cattle of yours

down in Washington.

Eh, my Pennsylvania delegation

and some others that I have friends in

will support anyone
you men decide you want.

Just agree on a name.

Well, there'd be no trouble
if Lincoln would let us know

who he wants on the ticket with him.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Well, it looks as though the White House
decided to tell us something.

Ah, clear out of here, you men.

How do you do?

- Oh, so glad to see you.
- Glad to see you.

The president hopes you're better,
Congressman Stevens.

Thank you, thank you.

Afternoon, Senator Waters.

Afternoon, BP.

White House, Senate,
House of Representatives.

What we three agree on
ought to go down with this mob.

The president is very grateful
for the plank and the platform

that favors full emancipation.

Well, I wrote it myself.

But he wasn't so happy about
that other plank you forced in.

Oh, that one demands that
the rebels and traitors

are punished after the war.

What's wrong with that?

Well, he feels that it's a blow
to his policy of reconciliation.

Well, that's just why it's there.

Come on. Let's quit playing marbles.

Lincoln sent you down here
to see Jim and me. What for?

To discuss the vice presidency.

Yeah, he wants to shove
Andy Johnson down our throats.

The president feels
that Johnson, a democrat,

will be supported by
the democrats who backed the war

and so will help us win the election.

He says to tell you that a vice president

from a rebel state
will strengthen the Union.

That the American people can never repay

their debt of gratitude to Andrew Johnson.

Oh, Johnson's a loyal man, uh...

But as a southerner,
he'd be bound after the war

to try and stop our vengeance on the South.

Mr. Lincoln does not approve
of vengeance on anyone.

In the interest of unity,

he's anxious for a unanimous nomination,

no contest on the floor.

You tell the president

I'll support his wartime policy

until the last rebel's dead or quits.

He knows you will.

The president regrets that you
don't agree with him on reconstruction,

but he knows that you stand with him
on the two important issues,

victory and freedom.

I fought slavery all my political life.

- What's that got to do with it?
- Oh, a great deal.

Why, Johnson stands
with you and Lincoln there.

He once said in a speech,

"I do not mourn over
the dead body of slavery.

I think we're freeing more whites
than blacks in Tennessee."

I wouldn't want to free a white man

if he was a rebel.

Well, I've said all
the president asked me to say.

What Lincoln wants will go down
with the delegates, then.

What the president wishes will go down

because you and the other delegates

know that the country is behind him.

Good afternoon.

Ah.

Thad, you can't fight Lincoln
on the floor here.

If he wants Johnson,
you better make it unanimous.

That mudsill tailor.

From the heart of the rebel land...

next vice president of the United States.

The oath of office will now be administered

to the vice president-elect

by the Chief Justice of
the United States Supreme Court.

Mr. Vice President-elect.

Mr. Chief Justice.

Raise your right hand, sir,
and repeat after me.

I do solemnly swear...

I do solemnly swear...

...that I will faithfully
execute the office

of vice president of the United States...

...that I will faithfully
execute the office

of the vice president
of the United States...

...and will, to the best of my ability

preserve, protect, and defend...

...to the best of my ability, preserve...

Protect, and defend...

Protect, and defend...

...the Constitution of the United States,

so help me God.

...the Constitution of the United States,

so help me God.

The President of the United States!

Mr. President...

senators...

judges...

people of the United States

who are... are more--

I ask your indulgence.

Drunk again.

I ask your indulgence
during my term of office.

I, a plebeian, have studied
only how best to advance the...

interest of my state and country.

I have... risen from
the humblest walks of life

to this--this... this proud position.

"...with malice toward none."

This is the way he wound up, Eliza.

I wish you'd got to town
in time to hear him.

I wouldn't have heard him.

I'd have been right here,
looking after you in bed,

where you belong.

They sent me this this morning.

It's a photograph
of the inaugural ceremony.

See, there he is, reading his speech.

The people will gaze on
that picture for ages to come.

Where are you, Andrew?

There I am, my dear,
in the custody of Hannibal Hamlin.

The cool air out there cleared my head.

You see, I'm holding my hat over my face.

Perhaps you can guess why.

Now, don't you want to hear
what they have to say

about your husband's speech?

No, Andrew, please.

"After being sworn in,

the new vice president indulged

in an incoherent harangue,

concerning which,
the less said, the better,

in view of the obvious condition

of the man between whom

and the presidency stands

only one human life."

Stop, Andrew.

You were ill.

I disgraced my president.

I disgraced my country and our cause.

Come in.

From the White House, Mrs. Johnson.

Flowers for you
and a letter for Mr. Johnson.

Thank you.

Aren't they beautiful?

I... I'm afraid to open this.

Oh, you needn't be.

Mr. Lincoln sees deep into all hearts

and he knows yours,
all wool and a yard wide.

"You ornery old galoot.

If only you took a drink now and then,

you'd know enough about liquor

not to fire yourself up with brandy

on an empty stomach when you're sick.

I know you only went
through the ceremony for me

because I asked you to.

Don't worry at what they say.

In hitting at you, they're hitting at me

and I don't mind.

We've got Lee all but whipped.

You were a good tailor, Andy.

And you're going to help me now,
you poor, loyal cuss,

to patch up the torn garment of our Union.

Gratefully yours, A. Lincoln."

Didn't I tell you?

Three cheers for Vice President!

Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!

Evening, Mr. Johnson.

I'm afraid all this noise
will be disturbing Mrs. Johnson.

I'm awfully sorry,
but there's nothing we can do about it.

That's perfectly all right.

She only wishes she could get out

and join in the jollification herself.

She'll be up tomorrow.

Sleep well, Mr. Vice President.

We'll all sleep well now,
the first time in four years.

Oh, just a moment, please, sir.

I forgot something, if you please.

This gentleman called while you were out.

No, I don't know the name.

Probably he's just some office-seeker.

- Hello, hello, dear.
- Hello.

Well, you should see that city out there.

Oh, I can feel it even lying here in bed.

It's a new Washington
since Lee surrendered.

New country, same crowd,
same bands all over the north.

People don't seem ugly or vindictive
now that we've won, do they?

No, this is the start of a new era

of good feeling in a United States

really united and for the first time.

And we both know
whom the country has to thank.

Yes, we all know,

except that little knot
of his enemies down on Capitol Hill.

His enemies and yours.

Mm-hmm.

Just listen to that noise
out there, will you?

We want Andy!

They're calling for you, Andrew.

We want Andy! We want Andy!

Stop the music! Stop it!

Yeah! We want to hear Andy!

My friends and fellow countrymen...

Hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!

Hang Lee, too!

My friends...

Never mind me.

You go around the corner
and serenade the president,

but don't grieve him with shouts about

hanging our fellow countrymen.

Come on down, Andy,
and have a drink, you old toper!

I repeat, you should be around
at the White House. Not here.

We just came from there, Andy.
Ain't nobody home.

Abe Lincoln's gone to Ford's Theater.

Few words I shall say to you,
and not my own.

"With malice toward none,

with charity for all,

let us bind up the nation's wounds."

And General Grant, when he took Lee's army,

there was no pride, no boasting.

He just said, "Let us have peace."

Now, you trust and follow Mr. Lincoln
to guide us under God

for four years more!

Oh, splendid, Andrew.

You said just the right thing.

Now, you try to get some sleep.

Let's hope there will be no more bands

to keep you awake tonight.

I will.

Here, what are you reading?

Poetry.

"There is a lady, sweet and kind,

it was never a face

so pleased my mind."

Oh, please don't close the doors

and don't you sit up
working half the night.

I won't. Just a half-hour or so.

Yes.

Who is it?

Mr. Johnson, the president's been shot.

Don't go, sir.
There's murder all through the city.

Secretary Seward's just been
stabbed at his house

and we got here just in time to save you

from an assassin outside your door.

It's a general conspiracy.

I'm going to the president.

You must stay here, sir.

I'm posting a guard outside.

I must go, Eliza.

Of course you must.

Now he belongs to the ages.

It is now my duty to ask
when it will be convenient

to administer the oath of office...
Mr. President.

All right, Major, take these away.

And, uh... I want that report

on the Freedmen's Bureau
to work on tonight.

Thank heavens there's nobody else
waiting here to see me.

Has this young lady an appointment,
Major Crook?

- She didn't ask for one, sir.
- Mm-hmm.

Here, here, wait a minute, wait a minute.

Oh, Major, don't forget those two bills.

We got to write a couple more
veto messages after dinner.

I must have seen 60 people
in this room today

and you're the first one
didn't come in to ask me for something.

Oh.

Where did you get your flowers?

I picked them on the lawn with Martha.

She just had the children
out there for a romp.

How did they stand the trip from Nashville?

They loved every minute of it.

It'd be kind of homelike, Eliza,

to have Martha and the kids living here.

This place seems sort of lonesome.

I don't know. Maybe it's just the job.

Must be the lonesomest job in the world.

Such a big place, isn't it?

Glad I don't have to pay the taxes on it.

And so full of ghosts.

Ghosts that are hard to live up to.

I bark out at people.

He knew how to turn 'em down
with just a funny story.

The wonder of it...

that you should work in his study...

sit at his desk.

The terror of it,
to ask myself every day, every hour,

"What would he have done?"

And not to know.

Eliza... I ain't fit.

Andrew, it came to us at Milligan's forge

that you were fit to be sheriff

and you've grown a lot since then.

You trying to tell me
that I'm fit to follow him?

You know better than that.

To follow him who is whoever will be.

The trouble with me, Eliza, I was never fit

to lace up his boots,
let alone stand in them.

You were the man he chose,
Andrew, to stand in his boots

if anything should happen to him.

Oh, let me.

I told Martha she could
bring the children in

to say goodnight.

Well, I must be the first president

with grandchildren here.

We'll let them come in every night.

Grandpa, my doll! Isn't she beautiful?

Oh, isn't she?

Hey, Andy, Andy!

Hey there, Andy! What--

Well, now, what have we got here?

Major Crooks gave it to me.
It's a gun to shoot bears.

Well, now, we'll go out tomorrow
morning right after breakfast

and shoot us some bears.

- Come on! Let's go now!
- No!

Tell me a bedtime story, Grandpa,

like you always used to
in Nashville when I was little.

All right.

Here... we go.

Well, now.

Once upon a time,
there was a beautiful princess.

Oh, look! There's a great bad bear!

Oh, come in, gentlemen, come in.

You know my wife, my daughter,
Mrs. Paterson, the children.

Congressman Stevens, Senator Waters,

and Congressman Hargrave.

Yes, it's quite a thing to
have a typical American family

in the White House again, Mrs. Johnson.

It's a great pleasure to welcome
you to Washington, ma'am.

All Washington hopes,
Mrs. Johnson, for a revival

of the fine, old White House
traditions of before the war.

Well, then I'm afraid Washington
will be disappointed.

Oh, we're just plain people
from the hills, that's all.

A brief stay in high places

can't be expected to change us very much.

Martha.

Now, children, it's your bedtime.

Grandpa hasn't told me my story yet.

Well, he'll come up
and tell you one in bed.

- Promise?
- Yes, I promise.

Now, you say goodnight to the gentlemen.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

May I have a kiss, little one?

Yes, if you want one.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Do you want to have a kiss, too?

I couldn't think of
anything more delightful,

but I'm not going to submit you
to any such dubious pleasure.

You killed the bear!

I didn't mean to.

Now, children, that's enough. Goodnight.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Well, we've had enough
homespun humor in the White House.

Let's quit being whimsical
and run the country.

Sit down, gentlemen.

You know, I've often thought
if I could speak

with your culture and learning,

with your eloquence, Mr. Hargrave,

or the power and force

that you blast your opponents with,
Mr. Stevens,

I'd probably make a much better president.

Why, Mr. President, I've never found you
lacking in eloquence, sir.

But unfortunately, you are as stubborn

as the orneriest mule
in your own Tennessee.

He just plants his feet
wide apart like that

and you couldn't budge him with a cannon.

A mule, huh?

Is that why you fellas
in Congress lit a fire under me?

You don't act like our fire done much more
than keep your belly nice and warm.

Unfortunately, Mr. President,

the contraption you're hitched to

is the United States of America.

We've gotta keep it on the move.

Stevens, if you'll just state your case
and let me state mine,

I think we'll see better where we stand.

Very good, Mr. President.

I propose that we treat the South

as an outside conquered people,

that we confiscate
all estates worth 10,000 dollars

and containing 200 acres.

Then, sir, I would give
every adult colored man

forty acres of land.

Sell the rest and pay for the war with it.

No use vetoing that program, Johnson.

We have the votes to override your vetoes.

So it comes to this.

You fought a war to preserve the Union.

Having preserved it,
now you deny that it exists.

Gentlemen, my one aim
is to carry out Lincoln's policies.

Try and get into your head

that Lincoln's reconstruction
program died with him.

Oh, shut up, Waters.
Let the president state his own case.

Lincoln always held

that the Confederate states
could not secede.

That they were therefore
never out of the Union.

Now, they stopped fighting.

They took the oath of allegiance
to the United States.

They ratified the amendment
abolishing slavery

that you yourself, Stevens,
piloted through congress.

Ah, yes, yes, yes.

It follows from Lincoln's policy

that they therefore were entitled

to the same rights as the rest of us.

Now, gentlemen,
it's just as simple as that.

Well, no use making him
our offer now, Stevens,

after what he just said.

Offer? You have some compromise to suggest?

I should think it would be rather difficult

to compromise our points of view.

I never compromise.
I came here to make a deal.

To secure your cooperation
with us, Mr. President.

For the next eight years.

Oh, I see.

That's, uh, an offer to buy me...

with a second term.

One practical man to another, yeah.

What in tarnation is that thing?

What you're trying to put on my leg again

and I don't like being chained up.

That's why I've kept this
for nearly 40 years now,

just to remind me what being
chained up feels like.

Well, gentlemen,
there's a little girl waiting for me

to tell her a bedtime story,
so I guess that's all.

Oh, no, no. That's not all, Mr. President.

That's only half.

Now, wait outside, will you?

I want a word alone with the president.

- Goodnight, Mr. President.
- Goodnight, Mr. President.

Goodnight, gentlemen. Goodnight.

First, Lincoln tried to block me.

Now it's you.

Well, that's a poor substitute, but now me.

Stevens, why did you want to see me alone?

To tell you that since
you've turned me down,

I fear I'll have to turn you out.

Impeachment?

You know the House would prefer
charges of high crimes

and misdemeanors against you anytime I say.

I hope that never happens.

Unfortunately, it takes
a two-thirds vote of the Senate

to sustain a conviction.
That's the Constitution.

You're a great stickler for
the Constitution, aren't you?

Well, you might as well know,
then, we can get you out

by strictly Constitutional means.

Why aren't you more reasonable?

And when there's no vice president,

the man who succeeds an impeached president

is the acting presiding officer
of the Senate.

Right, right.

Well, they'll never put me out
to put Jim Waters in.

Well, that is kind of funny, at that.

The Senate would never have
elected him to pound that gavel

if they realized that
it might make him president.

I have infinite faith in the people.

Oh, this country
isn't ruled by a plebiscite.

Congress would be against you

and the money power and the press.

Yes, every power would be against me

except the common people

that Abe Lincoln said
the Lord must have loved

because He made so many of them.

Well, go ahead, then, take the stump.

Swing around the circle.

Make your speeches to the people.

Only you get all het-up.

You don't make very good speeches.

Yes, and you'd rig the press
and pack my meetings.

Well, we're not likely
to meet socially anymore

so I have to tell you that
nothing would make me do

what I fear I have to do,

no personal or party interests,
just one thing.

The safety of our country

which your policies would destroy.

You have the impudence
to sit there and tell me

you're doing this to save the country?

Why, you hypocrite,
if you weren't a cripple,

I'd pick you up and
throw you through that bay window

right out on the White House lawn,
wheelchair and all!

You know, most people think
that drink is your weakness

on account of that thing that
happened at the inauguration.

But I know better. It's temper.

I've got to see Mr. Stevens at once.

You can't, sir. He's sick, Mr. Secretary.

- The doctor just left--
- Now, don't argue with me.

Thad, he's turned me out.
The tailor turned me out.

You've got to do something to help me.

Now, sir, Mr. Stevens is a very sick man.

You can't be bothering him.
I won't let you.

Mr. Stevens, you've got to rest.

Oh, Addie, what do they
care whether I live or die,

as long as I hold a job?

Now, please, sir,
don't say nothing about dying.

There it is, Thad. Read it.

Run along, Addie.

If'n you get the lung fever,
don't blame me.

I done told you, the doctor,

he say you've got to get your rest.

So the tailor threw you out, huh?

And after all the trouble
we took to have that bill passed

that he couldn't fire
any of Lincoln's cabinet

without the express consent of the Senate.

He's violated a law
passed over his own veto.

That's going to cost him the presidency.

I've got him just where I want him.

Now, you go back and stay in your office.

But I've been dismissed.

You don't think I'm going to let
him do a thing like that to you?

Now, you go and get some troops

and a couple of cannon to
protect the building.

Troops? Cannon?

Sure. And just stay in office.

- You mean, never leave it?
- Leave it?

No, of course not!

You just stay, stay, and stay.

Well, you better get a bed
and some canned food

because in all probability,

you'll be there for three or four months.

But after Johnson's out
and Jim Waters is president,

well, then you can go home
and get all cleaned up.

I'll do exactly as you say.

Ah, it's amazing what privations
a politician will endure

just to stay in office.

Here's the last report
on the cabinet meeting

and that's the last bit
of what you call spying

I'll have to do for you.

You never can tell.

I might want you to spy on Jim Waters
when he's president.

Addie! Addie!

- Yes, sir?
- Come here!

Yes, sir, Mr. Stevens!

- Order my carriage.
- Tonight, in this rain?

No, sir! You'll get your death of--

Order my carriage!

If'n you go out in this rain
and get the lung fever--

Get me my crutches!

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Who are you to tell me what
I can do and what I can't do.

Yes, sir.

I'll do what I want.

I'll die when I feel like it.

The president will see you now.

What's this about some
amnesty idea of yours, Johnson?

So your spy in my cabinet
told you that, too.

Well, after you broke up my meetings,

I got to wondering whether
I had any powers left at all,

if I hadn't better resign and go back home.

Oh, cut the cackle.

And then I remembered
a power vested in the president

by the Constitution that even
Congress can't touch, Stevens.

Maybe you can guess what it is.

A power Congress can't touch?

Yes.

Lincoln would've got
around to that before now,

but I had to wait till
things settled down a bit.

You wouldn't dare.

That's right, you've guessed it,
the pardoning power.

I'm gonna sign something now

and I'm glad you came over
here to watch me do it.

Here at this desk where
Lincoln freed the slaves

I now free their former masters.

This proclamation pardons all
and restores full citizenship

to all who fought for the lost cause

in the war between the states.

All? Did you say all?

All.

- Not Jeff Davis?
- Jeff Davis, too.

Lee?

Oh, yes, Lee, as well.

Well, you're right, you have the power.

Congress can't stop you.

Now every rebel snake in the South

will crawl out of its hidden den
into the daylight.

Johnson, what you've just done tonight...

and what you plan to do
means a new Civil War.

You honestly believe that, don't you?

You know I do.

I haven't long to live.

Just kept alive for the day
of retribution and justice

so I could die happy knowing
I'd bequeathed the country peace.

Peace?

You call revenge, confiscation,
and disfranchisement peace?

Have you no pity for those four million

injured, depressed, hopeless colored people

under bondage for two centuries?

I want the two races
to live together peacefully,

to respect one another.

Your way of making slaves of the whites

would put that off another century.

Johnson, if you withdraw this thing...

for the sake of peace,
I'll quash the impeachment.

So you'd drop the impeachment.

Uh, yeah.

Well, Stevens, I decline your offer.

But I want to tell you one thing.

I never really understood
you until this minute.

I always thought you wanted
a puppet President you could boss.

I called you a hypocrite.

You're not. You're a very sincere man...

and that's what makes you so dangerous.

You have the sincerity and will and force.

You have the drive of a great fanatic.

You'll not rob me of all I've lived for.

You'll not ruin the country
with another war.

I'll live long enough to stop that.

My policies will go through

with you out of the way.

Even if I'm not here to see it.

Stevens... what's the matter with you?

You'd better let me get you some coffee.

Huh? No.

I'll crush you, Johnson.

I'll save our country yet.

Stevens.

Stevens! Major Crooks!

Mr. President.

What happened?

Get a doctor.

Ah...

Would you deny any other tailor
his day in court

if you were his lawyers?

If I took refuge in your technicalities

and cowered here in the White House

while you fellows fought
for me in the Senate,

what could Stevens call me?

Whatever he calls you, Mr. President,

he mustn't spatter you with mud and filth

while you sit there in person.

Yes, like a man in the dock.

President is more than a man.

He's a symbol of the whole nation.

And that's why, for the sake
of the dignity of your office--

Look, you--you can't--you can't fool me!

You're afraid if I went down there,

Stevens and his gang would bait me

in making a howling jackass of myself.

That's your real reason
for trying to keep me

from going to my own trial.

Well, I choose to face
my enemies in person.

I'm going to the capitol.
Come along, gentlemen.

- Andrew.
- Wish me luck, Eliza.

There's no hurry, Andrew.

Why sit down there alone
in the President's room

fidgeting until they summon you?

The President will drive to
the Senate a little later.

- Uh, will I have time?
- Oh, yes, Mr. President.

The preliminaries and the swearing-in

will take another hour or so.

You see?

- Reserved seats.
- Reserved seats. Huh.

It's like walking into Ford's Theatre

knowing what's going to happen.

Yes, another assassination
of the President.

Any statement for the AP, Mr. Stevens?

Well, don't quote me, but I think I got
the tailor just where I want him.

- But for quotation?
- Quote.

The days of the tyrant
are numbered. Unquote.

The country's greatly
disturbed about your illness.

Well, tell the country I'm all right.

I just had a stroke, that's all.
No further statement.

- Thank you, Mr. Stevens.
- Thank you.

The honorable managers
of the House of Representatives.

Who's going to carry me about

when you two boys are dead and gone?

The President of the Senate pro tempore

recognizes the spokesman for
the House of Representatives.

In the name of the House of Representatives

and of all the people of the United States

we do impeach Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

of high crimes and misdemeanors.

We shall exhibit our
articles of impeachment

and make them good.

In fulfillment of the mandate laid down

in article one, section three
of the Constitution,

the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court

shall preside over the Senate

when, as now, this body is called to sit

as a high court of justice

in judgment upon
the President of the United States.

The honorable Chief Justice!

Your Honor.

The chair recognizes Mr. Stevens.

Mr. Chief Justice, before the 11 articles
of impeachment are formally read

let me state to the Senate and the country

the essence of our indictment.

We do not intend to cite the obvious fact

that Andrew Johnson is unmindful

of the dignity of his office,

his disgraceful speeches of rage,
if not intoxication.

We will confine ourselves
to the Constitution and the law.

Now, in a public speech,
the President of the United States

suggested hanging certain
elected representatives of the people,

including myself.

He has denied, also in a public speech,

that this congress is a lawful body.

He has termed us an "illegal rump"

because we refuse to admit what he terms

"legally elected representatives

of states in the American Union,"

meaning unreconstructed rebels.

Now, our main case, however,

is based on his violation of a law

passed over his veto by Congress.

The Tenure of Office Act.

Now, everyone in the country knows

that that forbids a President
to dismiss from his cabinet

any member who was belonged to the cabinet

of a President who died in office.

Now, in so doing,

Andrew Johnson, who was sworn
to maintain the Constitution,

created the highest possible
Constitutional crime.

If this is condoned,
Congress will be powerless.

It will be ruled over by
an irresponsible tyrant.

So the House of Representatives,
by solemn resolution,

has instructed us, its managers,
to demand that the Senate,

as made mandatory by the Constitution,

forthwith summon and do justice
upon the accused, Andrew Johnson.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye!

All persons are commanded to keep silent

while the Senate of the United States
is sitting for the trial

of the articles of impeachment.

Summon the accused.

Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

appear and answer
the articles of impeachment

exhibited against you
by the House of Representatives

of the United States.

Andrew Johnson.

Andrew Johnson.

Andrew Johnson!

What's this mean, Thad?

Ah, Johnson isn't coming.

Mr. Chief Justice,
the President desires to be represented

throughout this trial
solely by his counsel.

Mr. Chief Justice,
the President has been summoned

and refused to appear.

This action defies the Senate, Congress,

and the whole American people.

We demand that he be brought
before this tribunal

and stand his trial
like any other man accused of crime.

The Constitution does not require
the presence of the respondent.

The chair rules that he may, at his wish,

be represented by counsel.

The clerk will now read
the articles of impeachment

exhibited against Andrew Johnson
by the House of Representatives.

"Article One, whereas Andrew Johnson,

President of the United States,

has been accused of conduct..."

Well, Blackstone, it's good to see you.

Andy.

Come on in here now and sit down.

Oh, I, uh...

I wanted to, uh, wanted to thank you

for calming down the folks back home.

Just sit down, sit down.

Well, what's on your mind, now?

Things ain't so good down there, Andy.

What, in Greeneville?

The Senate.

Ah, sitting there at my trial every day,

listening to the way they kick me around

kind of makes you sore, huh?

It sure does, Andy.

Now, Blackstone, here's the way I figure.

Out of 54 votes, they need 36
to get the two-thirds for conviction.

Now we only need 19 for acquittal

and we know we got 16 to start with.

Wish I knew where
those other three were coming from.

Why, from honest senators
who really believe

that I violated the Constitution

when I got rid of that spy in my cabinet.

But they'll switch when they hear the truth

from the other cabinet members.

You go on back there now
and listen to our side.

Andy... what I come up here for to tell you

before anybody else did was, uh...

they ain't gonna let
your witnesses testify.

Who won't?

The Chief Justice?
That's--that's not possible.

He's an honest man.

Oh, he ruled for you, all right,

but the Senate overruled
him on every point.

Now, now, Andy, don't fly off the handle.

Well, I expected everything but this.

Accusations of drunkenness!

Galleries packed with my enemies
howling and yelling against me!

Even that old charge in Congress
that I conspired to murder Lincoln!

But I never expected this!

Well, I'll--I'll issue a statement
to the country right now.

It's too late, Andy.

They're gonna start voting right soon.

I should have gone down there

and stood up to them in the beginning.

This is no state trial.
It's a criminal conspiracy!

They're... they're doing this to me

because I'm trying to
carry out his policies.

They'd be doing it to him,
too, if he were alive

and in my shoes!

They'd be trying to destroy the--

Andrew.

We could hear you shouting
all over this end of the White House.

People all over Washington
are gonna hear me shouting!

People all over this country
are gonna hear me shouting!

Those senators up on that hill
are gonna hear me shouting!

Once more I must caution
the galleries to keep quiet.

Mr. Chief Justice,

the case for the House of Representatives

and the people
of the United States is concluded.

After the closing speech
for the defense has been made,

vote will be taken upon
the guilt or innocence

of the President of the United States.

- Mr. Chief Justice--
- The President!

- The President?
- The President?

Mr. President, this is highly inadvisable.

You should have notified us.

I've been waiting a long time for this.

Mr. Chief Justice,
the closing speech for the defense

will be made, at his own desire,
by the respondent.

That will be in order.

He'll blow up higher than a kite
and cook his own goose.

Mr. Chief Justice...

One of the first rules of...

When the people of U--

Will the President please be seated?

After repeated warnings,
the chair now orders the attendants

to clear the galleries.

Clear the galleries!

Mr. Chief Justice,
I protest against your order

to exclude the people from this chamber

where their fate is about to be decided.

Yes, there's an organized
focus of disorder.

The ruling of the chair must stand.

I move the galleries be not cleared!

I second the motion!

Those in favor of overruling the chair

respond by saying "Aye."

- Aye!
- Aye!

- Aye!
- Aye!

- Contrary, no.
- No.

- No.
- No.

The ayes have it.

The galleries will not be cleared.

The Chief Justice of the United States

must now decline to preside over this body

while an organized clack
denies respectful hearing

to the President of the United States.

Article one, section three
of the Constitution says

the Chief Justice must preside
when the President is impeached.

True, but I must decline
to continue to do so

on the grounds that
it was obviously the intent

of the Constitution to place
the Chief Justice in the chair

in order to insure a fair trial.

Under the Constitution,
this trial cannot proceed

without the Chief Justice in the chair.

Of course, a way out of
the difficulty might be found

if the galleries would
cease these interruptions.

Now that order has been restored,

the President will proceed.

Mr. Chief Justice.

If, as has been charged,

I have sometimes not been mindful enough

of the dignity of my office,

I am certainly mindful of it now.

I kept away from my own trial...

following the best advice I know of...

to avoid the sort of rough-and-tumble

that would heat up not only this body

but the whole country to a fever point

where riot and bloodshed
might have swept our people.

I am charged with the high crime

or is it a misdemeanor?

Of making speeches in a state of
mingled intoxication and rage.

You were drunk inauguration day!

You know you were!

The attendants will remove the interrupter!

Please, Mr. Chief Justice,

I... I want that man to hear my answer.

Very well.

I have a letter in my pocket.

I didn't bring it down here
to read to the Senate.

I have it with me because
I always carry it.

It's my most precious possession.

I shall now read
a few lines from this letter

as my only reference
now or ever to what my...

my friend in the gallery has touched upon.

"You ornery old galoot,

if only you took a drink now and then,

you would know enough about liquor
not to fire yourself up

with brandy on an empty stomach
when you're sick.

I know you only went through
the ceremony for me

because I asked you to.

Don't worry at what they say.

In hitting at you they are hitting at me

and I don't mind."

This letter is dated from the White House

March the fifth, 1865.

I just heard that the Senate

had refused to hear
the evidence of my cabinet.

Gentlemen, prepare to prove
that my removal of a cabinet member

was solely intended
to test the Constitutionality

of the Tenure of Office Act
before the Supreme Court.

So... I won't deny that
I was a little hot under the collar

when I left the White House.

But the ride down
Pennsylvania Avenue cooled me off.

And I came to realize

that the crime
for which I am being tried here

is not contained in the flimsy charges

trumped up in the articles of impeachment.

It appears to have been
one of misunderstanding.

I thought the war had ended.

It seemed so,
no enemy confronted us on any field.

The hand of friendship was stretched out,
and I clasped it.

Is forgiveness a crime?

My enemies think so.
They're not willing to forgive.

For, senators, in this crowded chamber

there still stand 20 empty desks.

Why are those desks empty?

Where are the senators
who should be sitting at them?

They have been lawfully elected,
but they're not here.

Why?

The man most responsible

for the fact that we are still at war

although the guns are silent...

sits there at that table.

I wish to say that he is a sincere man.

It is his honest belief

that by pardoning the Confederate leaders,

I made inevitable another Civil War.

He hates the South
with such consuming passion

that he thinks, as he has said,

that it must be kept
in subjugation and slavery

for the next 100 years.

If I am removed from office,
the new President,

who shares the sentiments of Mr. Stevens,

will set up a junta

that will be no government
of United States,

but a self-perpetuating, corrupt tyranny

based upon bayonets, confiscation,
and disfranchisement.

Abraham Lincoln fought this war
to restore the Union.

Long ago, the fighting stopped.

But while those desks remain empty,

there is no Union.

Senators, while we were
fighting one another,

a European tyrant,

master of the strongest army in the world,

seized our sister Republic of Mexico.

If we continue a divided nation,

the day will come when still
stronger armies and fleets from overseas

will conquer and enslave not only
our central and south American brethren,

but ourselves as well.

As our forefathers knew,

united we stand, divided we fall.

Senators, the issue before you
and before the whole country

is not my fate as an individual.

It is the issue of union or disunion

and upon its solution depends,

for our descendants if not ourselves,

this nation's survival

or its destruction.

The event is in the hands of God.

Order must be maintained in the galleries.

The clerk will now call the roll.

Mr. Albert.

Mr. Senator Albert, how say you?

Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

- What goes on?
- It's Huyler. He's fainted.

Go get a doctor! We can't do without him!

Mr. Arnold.

Mr. Senator Arnold, how say you?

Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

Mr. President.

Andrew, Andrew.

Oh, Andrew.

As my husband,

you've always held my love and respect,

but today you really stand forth for me,

the President of the United States.

Well, Eliza, I'm--I'm glad
to hear you say that

since I'm not likely to hold this job

for more than a couple of minutes longer.

Well, if that should be true,

nothing... nothing in your presidency

has become you so much
as... as your leaving it.

Then this means, if you can vote Huyler--

We'll vote him.

We're gonna carry him in, drag him in.

- The voting's nearly over.
- Come on.

Man, even with Huyler,
the whole thing turns on me.

Just think what it means,
asking me to make myself President

with my own single vote,
judge in my own cause.

Stevens isn't asking you. He's telling you.

But he agreed the dignified
thing was for me to sit there

and just answer "present"
when they called my name.

He told you that when he thought
we could win without you.

What will the country say
if the case turns on my vote?

What will history say?

Mr. Senator Vincent,
how say you? Is the r--

- Guilty.
- Senator Vincent,

is the respondent, Andrew Johnson,

President of the United States,
guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

Mr. Waters.

Mr. Senator Waters, how say you?

Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

Good old Jim.

We're still one short.

Well, Huyler can still vote if he gets here

before the acquittal's announced.

- He's unconscious.
- Well, bring him to.

- I can't--
- We mustn't lose the country by one vote.

I think we're safe.

- I must go and tell him.
- Not so fast.

The formalities will take another minute.

We might still lose
if they get Huyler in here to vote.

Upon the roll call, 53 votes were cast

and one senator did not answer to his name.

Under the Constitution, the vote...

Huyler just came to.

They're dragging him in here.

Well, hurry up, I'll keep the Chief Justice

from finishing the announcement.

...necessary for conviction.

Mr. Chief Justice, in the name
of the House of Representatives

and of the people
of the United States, I protest!

Senator Huyler has publicly announced

he was going to vote guilty!

The manager is out of order.

Senator Huyler must vote.

His vote is necessary to save the country.

Would you throw the nation into chaos

and start a new Civil War
on a point of order?

Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

has been adjudged guilty by 35 senators.

If this outrage
is consummated on this floor,

guns and knives will be brought into play
within the hour...

on every street corner,

in every city, town,
and hamlet in the United States!

You stand in most gross contempt, sir!

Remove Mr. Stevens from the floor.

Why, Senator Huyler's vote
should be counted, anyhow.

Everyone knows
it was pledged against Johnson.

A new Civil War,
that's what you're starting,

a new Civil War.

This is
the most gross miscarriage of justice

in human history.

If the Chief Justice pronounces those words

that are even now trembling on his tongue,

the only hope for the salvation of this--

Here's Huyler!

- There you are, Huyler.
- Good old boy.

I knew we could count on you.

Mr. Chief Justice,
the roll call was completed.

The President stands acquitted by one vote.

Mr. Chief Justice, under the rules,

any senator who appears on the floor

before the result has been announced

has the right to vote!

The chair had not completed
the announcement.

The clerk will call Senator Huyler's name.

Mr. Huyler.

Mr. Senator Huyler, how say you?

Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson,
President of the United States,

guilty or not guilty?

The senator need not rise.

My...

my vote is pledged.

I say...

not guilty.

You're acquitted, sir.

Andrew! Andrew!

Thirty-five to 19.

Senator Huyler's vote.

- Andy!
- Mr. President.

- Andy.
- One vote!

Mr. President, congratulations!

- Thirty-five to 19!
- Huyler decided it.

You should have seen Thad Stevens' face!

On behalf of President Grant,

of the Senate, and of the entire nation,

the chair extends welcome
to the new senator elect.

Before the gentleman from Tennessee
is escorted to the bar

to take the oath of office,

the Senate would welcome a few remarks

from the only former President

to be elected a member of this body
after he left the White House.

Mr. President.

Senators.

My... my fellow Americans.

When I last occupied this...

this seat in 1861,

I was surrounded by empty desks.

Now I... I see that
they are no longer vacant.

Virginia and the Carolinas,
Alabama, Louisiana,

and... Texas, Mississippi,

Florida, Arkansas, and Georgia.

You are all back in the fold...

as Tennessee stands here in your midst.

I...

I see as I greet you
who sit here about me...

that what Lincoln fought for...

lived for, and... and died for

at long last, has come to pass.

The union of these states.

One and inseparable.

Now and forever.