Part 5 (1/2)
”Step over here a moment. Foreman of my finis.h.i.+ng-shop split his thumb to-day in a lathe, and I want you to look at it.”
The doctor was in doubts whether to respond to an appeal so unceremoniously conveyed. He decided, however, after a short debate with himself, to cross over to the counting-room and examine the injured man.
The hurt being dressed and p.r.o.nounced but a slight affair, he was about to leave when George Gildersleeve must needs engage him in a discussion, which gradually drifted into the delicate subject of the comparative merits of Englishmen and Americans. At this time there were sputterings in Congress, and in the newspapers, in regard to a fresh ”outrage”
perpetrated by the navy of Great Britain on our flag, and the general expression was that we were not ”going to stand it.”
George for his part certainly was not, and said so plainly: ”Look here, Major, do you see that?” (pointing to an old horse-shoe nailed over the fire-place.) ”Right here was my grandfather's forge, and right about here's where he shod Gineral Was.h.i.+ngton's horse just awhile afore he fought the great battle of Trenton, and that's one of the cast-off shoes, and I wouldn't take a thousand dollars for it. Well, sir, the man that rode that horse that my grandfather shod, flaxed you Englishmen out of your boots; and I tell you we've plenty more that can do it now, and they'll do it again, if you Johnny Bulls don't behave yourselves; now mind.”
Dr. Wattletop, being in that condition when he was excessively patriotic, prejudiced, and punctilious, was so utterly dumbfounded by this tirade, that for a moment apoplexy was imminent. Luckily, contempt supervened, and with a smile of scorn and withering irony, he repeated, ”Was.h.i.+ngton--Trenton--great battle of Trenton, I believe you said? Do you seriously call that a battle? Why, my man, do you know what a battle is? At the so-called battle of Trenton the total loss, according to your historians, and their statements are evidently grossly exaggerated--the total loss in killed on both sides amounted to five-and-twenty, including a drummer, who received a black eye in the s.h.i.+ndy; five-and-twenty killed! all told--all told!”
George Gildersleeve shook his head incredulously at this statement, and the doctor continued: ”Now, if you will take the trouble to instruct yourself a bit, you will find out what Englishmen can do. Read, for instance, an account of the battle of Waterloo. Talk of Homeric heroes!
What's Achilles and the well-greaved Greeks to the Iron Duke and the Guards?--what's Ajax Telamon to Shaw the Life-guardsman? tell me that--tell me that?” Shaw the Life-guardsman was the doctor's favorite hero, and he never failed, when the occasion offered, to bring him in as the compeer of all the paladins of old, from Hector to Roland.
”Ah! there was fighting such as the world ne'er saw before,” continued the doctor, kindling with enthusiasm. ”Not the famous Macedonian phalanx nor the Roman legion held their ground so stoutly as the squares of British linesmen when the steel-clad squadrons of cuira.s.siers broke against them in vain.”
”That was all very well when you fought them Frenchmen and Greeks. But when you tackled us, you found a different sort of people to deal with, I reckon. Old Put, and Jackson, and Gineral Scott, were too much for you, old man,” returned George, with a shake of the head that ought to have settled matters.
Dr. Wattletop's nose glowed with a fiercer heat, and if looks could have scorched a man, Gildersleeve would have shrivelled on the spot; but the chances are that even the glances of that pleasant dame Medusa would have fallen harmless on the pachydermatous master of the Archimedes Works.
”Why, confound it, man, you talk like an a.s.s. Should her Gracious Majesty, the Queen of England, ever deign to notice the vaporings of your politicians, and take it into her head to resent them, she'd send the Channel fleet over here and knock your blasted country into flinders in no time, and dammit, I wish she would!” and with that volley the doctor turned on his heel, and left abruptly, to work off his choler by an additional tramp of a mile or two.
”How are you to convince a pig-headed, obstinate man like that?” said George, turning to his book-keeper. ”He's so prejudiced that he won't listen to reason, and must have his own way.”
VI.
While all the efforts of man, long-repeated, to change the baser metals into gold have proved futile, it is no less certain that gold, in revenge, has been successful in trans.m.u.ting man. The power of its moral alchemy is seen in individuals like Rufus Heath. Poor, he would have remained a fawning toady, but wealth transformed him into a haughty, arrogant aristocrat at heart. No Somerset or Rohan was ever more so.
Starting in life without other capital than a moderate education, tact, and industry, his first aim was to acquire wealth. His tastes were luxurious and refined, and to gratify them wealth was necessary. So to succeed he was plastic and serviceable to his employers, and a.s.siduous in courting useful friends. A good name is a great stepping-stone, and to secure this he was correct and respectable in his conduct and demeanor. ”Correctness,” in fact, was his religion and code of morality.
Of course, right and wrong were relative terms, and it was not to be expected that any one should live up to the exact letter of the law. A margin was allowable.
Nevertheless, decorum and all outward observances were due to society, and indispensable. Acting on this principle, there was no more popular and respected young man at twenty-one, in Belton, than Rufus Heath, nor one with brighter prospects. Counsellor Hull, his patron, declared that the young lawyer promised to be an ornament to the profession; and when the Counsellor was called to the bench, Rufus Heath succeeded to his practice. Exempt from gross vices, and gifted with an elastic conscience, the thriving lawyer successfully pursued his calling, until his marriage with Miss Obershaw crowned his pecuniary prosperity. Now the influence of riches made itself manifest, and it almost seemed as if the precious metals had been injected into his veins. He stiffened, became cold and imperturbable, laid aside his urbanity, and his ill-concealed pride and contempt for the less prosperous betrayed itself. And now that he had tasted all the joys that affluence can give, and tasted them unto satiety, he craved the flattering unction of distinction. Ambition was now his G.o.d. He was a politician, but a successful one only so far as he had been a.s.sisted by his wealth and family connections. He owed it to these powerful auxiliaries that he had spent a term in Congress. But he had gained no prominence there. He lacked oratorical ability, and without it, it is scarcely possible to attain eminence in a republic. His daintiness, moreover, caused him to recoil from contact with the ma.s.ses, and though he strove to overcome this repugnance when the occasion called for it, he had never entirely succeeded. Perseverance, intrigue, and a lavish expenditure of money, were the means he relied on to ascend the first steps of political preferment. Once fairly launched as a public man, he doubted not his ability to make his way and mark as a statesman or a diplomat. To become Governor of his State was his present aim, and he had laid his plans to secure the nomination from his party as a candidate at the next election. To this end a host of emissaries, with money at command, were at work throughout the State. The _Belton Sentinel_, the organ in the county of Mr. Heath's party, advocated his interest with tremendous energy, persistency, and abundance of adjectives. Finnega.s.s, the editor, was a poor printer, whose shop, presses, types, and all were mortgaged to Rufus Heath. This well-known fact furnished an unfailing quant.i.ty of sarcasm to the _Pa.s.saic County Argus_, the opposition sheet, that invariably alluded to Finnega.s.s as the ”minion” or ”serf,” either ”pampered” or ”truckling,” of the ”aristocrat on the cliff.” These amenities were treated by the editor of the _Sentinel_ with complete indifference, until once (stung into retorting by some particularly sharp gibe) he referred to the _Argus_ as an ”obscure sheet of no circulation, edited by a low, ignorant felon.” Obscurity and ”no circulation” were accusations too atrocious to be borne, and the editor of the _Argus_ flung them back, with indignation, in the teeth of his defamer. This brought out sworn statements of copies issued by the two presses, and much evidence on both sides was published; for the rival editors were ready to go to any lengths to exculpate their respective papers from so heinous a charge as obscurity or want of ”circulation.”
As for the personalities, they were treated as mild banter, tending to enliven the canva.s.s, and stimulate partisans.
At this time, to quote the after-words of the _Belton Sentinel_, ”the horizon of political affairs was darkening, and the clouds that confined the storm destined to shake the fabric of our Union to its foundation, were gathering ominously.” The different parties were in a ferment. The Whigs no longer existed--they had given way to an organization originated by the Free-Soilers, and styling themselves Republicans.
There were, however, a large number of old Whigs wedded to their prejudices, with a distaste for affiliation with the Democrats and a greater repugnance to a party tainted in any degree with Abolitionism, who looked upon the new movement as an ephemeral ebullition. These individuals, calling themselves ”Conservatives,” imagined that it required but an effort on their part to still the waters of political strife, and decided to const.i.tute themselves ”bulwarks,” and ”arks of safety.” Among these was the Hon. Rufus Heath. Like all men of his stamp, he was utterly opposed to any disturbance of the established order of things. He was perfectly well satisfied with them as they were.
As for radicals or reformers, he hated their very name. Such people sprang from the vulgar herd, and were only bent on mischief. His ideal of a proper government was a const.i.tutional monarchy supported by an oligarchy of wealth, and to this form he believed the republic was gradually tending. He was not un.o.bservant of the increasing prestige of birth. Position in the army, navy, or state was gradually tending to perpetuate itself in certain families. The bearers of historic names wielded a certain influence, which increased with time, and would eventually and under certain circ.u.mstances crystallize into decided power. Here were the germs of an oligarchy, which needed but a law of entail to perfect itself and inst.i.tute a cla.s.s of hereditary legislators, or house of peers--the bulwark indispensable against the agrarianism inherent in a democratic form of government.
In order to exchange views on the condition of the body-politic, and devise means to combat the evil influences then prevailing (to say nothing of advancing his own personal plans), Mr. Heath took advantage of the presence in the vicinity of a statesman who had occupied a very exalted position in the commonwealth, to ask him to meet at dinner sundry other influential and distinguished citizens, and confer on the important subjects in question.
The preliminary step was to send for Mr. Mumbie. Mr. Heath had an imperial way of summoning people to him, and his mandates were generally obeyed with alacrity--always so when addressed to his good old neighbor and toady, Mumbie; who, although suffering from an attack of rheumatic gout, hobbled as quickly as his swollen feet would permit him, in prompt response to the call.
”Mumbie,” said Mr. Heath, ”I suppose you have heard that there is a great deal of talk about my running for Governor at the next election?”
Mr. Mumbie had not heard of it, nor had any one else; but he looked and nodded as if it were a familiar and constant topic of conversation with everybody.
”Well, I have not yet made up my mind whether I will consent to run or not. However, that is neither here nor there at present, nor what I wanted to see and talk with you about. Senator Rangle is your brother's wife's cousin, I believe, and you are on a familiar footing with him, are you not?”
”Yes, sir,” said Mumbie, listening attentively.
”So I thought. Now Rangle and I are not on the very best of terms. He accuses me, I believe, of having used my influence against him in the Legislature, when he sought a renomination--said I wanted the place myself, and so forth. He is mistaken in that. However, I am willing to pa.s.s it over, as this is a time when personal feeling should not interfere to prevent men from acting in accord on vital questions of state. Here is the point. I have asked ex-President ---- to meet Judge Hull at dinner Thursday week. Several other prominent gentlemen will be present, and matters of importance may be discussed. Now, Mumbie, you can a.s.sist me in this way: call on Rangle, state to him that as my friend you regret that there should be any divergence of opinion between us; that from your personal knowledge I have never held any but the highest opinion of him; and so on. You might then introduce the subject of the proposed dinner, and state that you know that I would be pleased to have him make one of the company. On your report, if everything is satisfactory, I can forward him a formal invitation. Now, my dear Mumbie, you will help me in this little matter, and I can rely on your discretion, I know.”