(1964) The Man (119 page)

“And remember, too, the considered wisdom of Representative Bingham in that other time, and remember and do not forget his patriotic beseeching when you stand up to be counted for all time in your judgment of one and all of the Articles of Impeachment. He said then, and I say now, ‘I ask you to consider that we stand this day pleading for the violated majesty of the law, by the graves of half a million of martyred hero-patriots, who made death beautiful by the sacrifice of themselves for their country, the Constitution and the laws, and who, by their sublime example, have taught us that all must obey the law; that none are above the law, that no man lives for himself alone, but each for all; that some must die that the state may live; that the citizen is at best but for today, while the Commonwealth is for all time; and that position, however high, patronage, however powerful, cannot be permitted to shelter crime to the peril of the republic.’

“Glorious words, these, which once ennobled this hallowed Chamber. They are timeless, yet were I to make them entirely pertinent to our cause today, I would paraphrase what that House manager had to say—let not the graves of thousands of martyred hero-patriots, sons of the mothers of America, be dug tomorrow and in days to come in the remote and distant jungles of primitive Africa to satisfy the whims of one ill-motivated, incompetent, intemperate, impermanent President-by-accident. Better that one man figuratively die so that the thousands who share our blood, and the state itself, to which we pledge our blood, shall survive and live. Gentlemen of the Senate—”

The library door had opened, and Governor Talley stuck his head in. “Arthur, the press is ready and assembled.”

“Wayne,” Kay Eaton said, “do you mind switching off the set?” As Talley hastily obeyed her, she turned to her husband. “That wretched Miller of yours is clever, no question. If I had any doubts, they’re gone. What do I wear when you’re sworn in, Arthur?”

Eaton had been cheerful, but a frown crossed his brow. “Don’t talk like that, Kay. Don’t let anyone hear you talk like that. . . . Ready, Wayne? Come on, Kay. Let’s make it sweet and simple, and get them to the sandwiches and drinks.”

Eaton left the library and strode quickly into the packed living room, followed by his wife and his colleague. There were more than one hundred correspondents waiting, and many applauded as he waved jovially and took a position before the built-in bar, maneuvering his wife to one side of him, and drawing Talley to the other side.

“Hold it for some pictures!” a photographer yelled.

As the shutters clicked and bulbs exploded, Talley called out, “Remember the caption—‘T. C.’s Team Together Again!’ ”

More applause greeted this, and then, as reporters roughed the photographers to the sides of the room, Arthur Eaton held up his hand.

“First,” he said, “an apology for these cramped quarters. I’m afraid this is a do-it-yourself press conference, but since I’ve been locked out of the Department of State, it’s the best I can offer you!”

Eaton beamed at the laughter and cheers, and then he quieted the roomful of reporters, and his demeanor became serious.

“I have tried to avoid any communication with my friends of the press until the momentous matter before the bar of the Senate is settled today,” he said. “However, I have been so widely and persistently solicited by many of you to make some comment that I have, with reluctance, consented. Perhaps, after all, a few brief remarks are in order.”

“Hear! Hear!” someone shouted.

Again Eaton held up his hands for silence. Then, in his well-modulated voice, he resumed.

“I have been made increasingly aware of the fact, not that I have consciously ignored it or should do so, that under the law of the land, I am, as Secretary of State, next in line of succession to the Presidency. Although the person now in the office of the Presidency has not wished me in this position, has attempted to place himself above the law and exercise dictatorial powers to remove me, he has failed. The people of the United States would not have it, and the effect of their outrage was felt in Congress, which immediately condemned and rejected the President’s illegal behavior and reinstated me as the Secretary of State, as a member of the Cabinet, and as first in line of succession to the Presidency.”

Since he was speaking without notes, although he had considered with care what he would say, Arthur Eaton paused at length to determine what he should say next. Having organized his thoughts, he went on.

“Contrary to the propaganda mill of the White House, I have not desired wished for, or in any way actively sought, or do now seek, the Presidency. It was enough for me, these last years, exceeding my fondest dreams, to be our beloved T. C.’s Secretary of State and Cabinet adviser. I wish that were my position today. The eccentricities of life, so unpredictable, would not have it, the Lord’s will was done, and my mentor and our former President went to his premature death. When his successor, Senator Dilman, sought to retain my assistance, wishing, he then said, only guidance to carry out T. C.’s policies at home and abroad, I agreed to stay on. Like all of us, I was weighted down with grief, but I realized quickly that the welfare of our people, their government, came first, and grief must be subordinated to duty, and so I served.

“I will not discuss the events that have transpired since T. C.’s death. They have been fully and widely aired these last ten days from the floor of the United States Senate. Let me say, however, in complete earnestness, that although deeply concerned about the new President’s deviation from T. C.’s policies, and about certain deficiencies in his character and competence, I was reluctant to approve of his impeachment. When there was no longer a choice, when the impeachment became the desire of the American people, when I realized that it was my duty to stand with the people against one who would endanger the very life of this republic, only then did I submit to the inevitable and throw my full support behind the House of Representatives.

“I have no knowledge of what the outcome of the Senate’s vote will be this afternoon, and I have no opinion about it. If the members of the Senate choose to acquit and retain the President, I shall, of course, resign from my office, and devote all of my energies, as a private citizen and a personal friend who loved T. C., to opposing those White House actions that I feel are detrimental to the country at large. If the members of the Senate choose to convict and oust the President from his office, I can only say that I shall do my duty under the Constitution and God to serve as your President, and as T. C.’s President, with all my strength, with all of my heart and mind, and with every fiber of my being.

“I repeat, my friends, if serve I must, then serve I shall—yes, serve I shall, as everyone’s President, as President of no faction or factions but as President of the entire United States of America.

“Beyond that, there is little more I can say. I appreciate your attentiveness.”

Eaton was gratified by the spontaneous outbreak of handclapping, and he ventured a smile.

“Mr. Secretary,” the Atlanta
Constitution
correspondent called out, “do you mind a few questions?”

“Gentlemen, you know my position,” Eaton said. “It would be difficult to comment on a matter not yet settled by the Senate. Besides, every question keeps you longer away from Mrs. Eaton’s groaning board and that portable bar she’s stocked.”

There was pleased laughter, and Talley added, “Well, fellows, maybe a couple of quick questions if you don’t put him on the spot, you know. Okay, what was it, Jim?”

The Atlantan said, “Dilman seems to have rallied a good deal of last-minute Negro support. Everyone thinks that if he’s removed, racial rioting will reach a higher pitch. If that happens, do you have a plan for restoring peace to this country?”

“I have T. C.’s plan, I have the people’s plan, the one the impeached President has derailed,” said Eaton. “I would advocate revival of the Minorities Rehabilitation Program as the one guaranteed way of restoring peace and prosperity to our people.”

“What about Baraza?” the Portland
Oregonian
man asked. “Would you pull out our troops and seek a summit meeting with Premier Kasatkin?”

“No comment,” said Eaton. Then he added, “My feelings about the reckless adventure in Africa, this playing hide-and-seek until we catch or are caught by a nuclear catastrophe, are too well known to bear repetition. President Dilman is Commander in Chief, as of now, and what he is doing represents how much he is willing to risk for what he believes, for whatever reasons, to be right. If I were Commander in Chief of our armed forces, I would indeed have a policy statement to make on Baraza and the Soviet Union. Right now, it would be premature and out of order.”

“Mr. Secretary, you are practically Commander in Chief right now,” Reb Blaser bellowed. “Last night’s straw vote has eighty senators going to vote against Dilman—thirteen more than required. Doesn’t that impress you?”

“Mr. Blaser, I can’t comment on that, you understand,” said Eaton.

“Let me just say this, fellows,” said Talley, taking a step forward. “Secretary Eaton is quite correct in keeping away from speculation. But the Party has taken its own informal poll of the senators who will vote. I can tell you, frankly, there will be no problem in getting two-thirds of the Senate to announce that the President is guilty of high crimes and misdemeanors. Boys, tomorrow you’ll have a new look, a government of the people, for the people, and by the people, a government of all the people, again!”

There was smashing applause, and Eaton acknowledged it with a dip of his head. Linking his arm inside his wife’s arm, he called out, “Gentlemen, the press conference stands adjourned—and the stampede for the food and drinks begins. Again, thanks for you attentiveness, and now, follow us!”

And then Reb Blaser shouted, “Thank you,
Mr. President!

Immediately, the room was filled with an uproar of laughter, handclapping, cheers, whistling, and Arthur Eaton, feeling as he guessed T. C. must have felt in those great climactic days before the election, led the stampede to the celebration.

At twenty minutes after twelve o’clock in the afternoon, the tray containing two small mixed green salads, two ham-and-cheese sandwiches on rye bread, one coffee and one hot tea had been delivered to the Oval Office of the White House from the Navy Mess below, and it now rested on the coffee table between the sofas.

Waiting for his friend, Douglass Dilman had just sat down to pick at the salad when Nat Abrahams came in, casting aside his hat, shedding his overcoat, massaging his chilled red cheeks.

“Brrr, what a day,” he said.

“You’re right, what a day,” said Dilman, watching Abrahams sit down across from him. “Nat, I didn’t see all of your closing address, but what I saw was great.”

“I’m afraid Miller’s was as good,” Abrahams said.

“Nevertheless, thanks.”

Abrahams appeared neither to have heard him nor to have any interest in the lunch before him.

Dilman inspected him. “What is it, Nat? You have something on your mind. I can tell.”

Abrahams gnawed his lower lip thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

“Shoot.”

He looked at Dilman squarely. “We’ve had an offer, Doug. Political horse trade, but an offer.”

“For what?”

“Senate votes in an hour and a half from now.”

“From whom?”

“Boss of the Party. Allan Noyes buttonholed me when I was leaving. Took me aside. Said there are nine on-the-fence Party senators who are more concerned about what your conviction will do to the Party tomorrow than about what you are up to today. They feel that if you are kept in office, in the long run there’d be less harm done to the Party. They’re considering that there’s only a year or so of the unexpired term to go, and they’d lose fewer votes in the next election this way than if you are publicly disgraced and kicked out.”

“Lose fewer votes? What votes?”

“Well, the Party has been taking samplings around the country. You’ve regained the sympathy of most of the Negro population, and of other minorities. The bloc of white liberals behind you has grown. Some independents here and there are shifting toward you. Noyes said it isn’t a big switch to your side right now, but an impeachment conviction might gain you more sympathy than ever, and lose Eaton a lot of votes when he came up for election.”

“Eaton’s election. Is that what the Party is worrying about?”

“Frankly, yes. And that’s the proposition. These nine senators put their heads together with Noyes, and here’s what they came up with. Instead of splitting over you this afternoon, or going against you, they’ve promised to vote for you under certain conditions.”

“All right, let’s have it, Nat. What’s the price?”

“If they swing an acquittal for you, then they want a public announcement from you tomorrow that you will neither seek reelection as the Party’s candidate nor allow yourself to be drafted as a candidate by a third party, and that you will come out in full support of Arthur Eaton or any other Party choice for the Presidential nomination next summer. That’s it. Agree to this, and you’ve got nine powerful votes for acquittal you might not otherwise have.”

Dilman squinted at Abrahams and put down his sandwich. “And I need those nine votes?”

“Wouldn’t hurt, you can use them,” said Abrahams casually.

“And they want my answer before two o’clock?”

“Before a quarter to two.”

“Nat, my answer is no. You tell them no.”

Abrahams did not seem at all surprised. He began to eat. “I don’t have to tell them no,” he said, between mouthfuls. “I’ve already told them.”

“You already told them no?” Dilman fell back, laughing and shaking his head. “You were that sure? What are you, my conscience?”

“Why, I’m your counselor, Mr. President.”

“My assistant gravedigger, you mean.” Suddenly Dilman sobered. “How badly did we need that deal, Nat, no soft-soaping? At the press conference today, Reb Blaser said the House managers took a straw poll, and while they need only sixty-seven votes to convict me, the poll says they have eighty. Any truth to that?”