The Trial of Mary Todd Lincoln by James A. Rhodes Dean Jauchius

Author:James A. Rhodes, Dean Jauchius [James A. Rhodes, Dean Jauchius]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Military, Wars & Conflicts (Other), United States, 20th Century, Civil War Period (1850-1877)
ISBN: 9781789128710
Google: Bn-7DwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Pickle Partners Publishing
Published: 2019-11-01T16:06:20+00:00

Chapter 6

ARNOLD MOVED to help her as Mary Lincoln stepped up onto the small platform and sat down in the witness chair. She was watching his face and his broad wink startled her. Swett was still staring at her and Robert had raised his head slowly to do so too. Mary turned her eyes straight ahead and waited.

“Now, my dear,” Arnold said softly, “I will ask you if it is not true that you are Mary Todd Lincoln, widow of our great president?”

Mary said yes softly and Arnold encouraged her to speak louder.

“Yes,” she said.

“And you were sitting beside him when he was shot down and his blood was on your dress.”

“Yes. Right here it was.” Mary fingered a sleeve, feeling the old splinters of grief being driven through her.

“And before that dreadful day you had lost two children and seven years later you lost a third son.”

“Yes.”

“Now, Mrs. Lincoln, I will ask you if you did not rather expect that Robert would look after your interests after these tragic occurrences?”

“No,” she said, watching surprise cross Swett’s face. “No. Not Robert. He tended to remain aloof from me.”

“And did he ever consult you on business matters?”

“Only when he wanted money.”

“Only when he wanted money,” Arnold repeated. “Yes. Now I will ask you, Mrs. Lincoln, if you were given any notice previous to about one o’clock this afternoon that this sanity action was to be taken against you by your son?”

“No. I had no idea.”

“But you knew men were following you? Spying on you?”

“I was aware that strange men were constantly following me, yes.”

“And it troubled you?”

“Yes. Since Abraham’s death, you see, I have had a fear of strange men.”

“Yes. I see. Now you have heard your son testify that these men were following you for your protection?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you that Pinkerton men had been assigned to maintain surveillance on you?”

“No.”

“And when you told him that strange men were following you, did he not then inform you in order to relieve your mind and alleviate your fears?”

“No. He said I was imagining things.”

“I see. And you lived in the Grand Pacific Hotel and not your son’s home while here?”

“Yes.”

“Why, Mrs. Lincoln?”

“Robert’s wife, Mary Harlan, does not like me. I would not have felt comfortable.”

“You would not have been made to feel at home in your only surviving son’s house?”

“I would not have felt at home there. That is correct.”

“And so you have been alone, for all intents and purposes, since Tad’s death, then.”

“Yes.”

“Very lonely?”

“Very.”

“And you have sought friends.”

“I have found friends,” she said. “I have my sister,

Elizabeth, at Springfield, and her husband, Ninian Edwards.”

“Then why did you not go there, my dear?”

“Memories,” Mary said, feeling grief twist her face again. She fingered the gold ring on her finger. “Abraham and I were married there, in that house on the hill. Sometimes it seems as if it were but yesterday.”

“I see,” Arnold said softly. “But you have, on occasions, stayed with them.”

“Yes.”

“And did they ever question your sanity?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you question your sanity, Mary Lincoln?”

“Of course not.

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