Part 15 (2/2)
”I'm not going to put my hand on the book, upon it,” said Sim Travers.
”If a man can't lodge a complaint without being hauled into court, the party's broke: a fig for the money! who cares about it?”
”That's my identical sentiment!” said Billy Goodlack. ”By blazes, I'm no prosecutioner!”
The committee was certainly thrown into great consternation. The cause of this is said to have been that in representing the case of Sergeant Trap to the President by letter, upon which they expected an immediate order dismissing the offender from service, they had charged him with a long list of misdemeanors against the welfare of the Great New-Light Democratic Party; which they knew, in the first place, had no sort of foundation in fact, and therefore might be found extremely difficult of proof; and the attempt to investigate which, in the second place, they were aware might bring the True Grits into collision with each other in a manner not very conducive to the harmony of the party. They were, therefore, not a little thrown aback when they were apprised of the President's determination to make the charges a subject of inquiry.
We cannot sufficiently commend Mr. Van Buren's caution in this matter, and the sound New-Light Democratic view he took of the subject. Here was a grave charge preferred against one of his own servants, imputing to him a disposition to deal with Whigs--nay, an _actual_ dealing with them, when there was a New Light to be found in the same town capable of furnis.h.i.+ng the same commodity. Doubtless, upon this nefarious transaction being fully proved, Mr. Van Buren, like a genuine, unadulterated Quod, as he is, would dismiss the offender from service, or even inflict on him other punishment, if it fell in his way. But in so serious a case he was determined not to be premature in his action: he would not proceed--unless, indeed, the offender had been a civil officer--upon such testimony as the confidential letter of a committee.
He takes the only just course--(in this I have reason to believe he was fully seconded, perhaps even prompted, by our sagacious representative, the Hon. Middleton Flam)--and that is a formal, solemn, judicial inquiry into the conduct of Sergeant Trap, to ascertain whether he _really had_ purchased liquors to the prejudice of the Great New-Light Quodlibetarian Democratic Party. Truly have we reason, day by day, to rejoice in a President of such magnanimity, such justice, such innate republicanism, and withal such dignity!
The Court of Inquiry met. It was composed of officers of high rank.
After a long and patient investigation, and the most accurate ascertainment of the number of gills of rum, whisky, and brandy sold to Trap's recruits by Sim Travers, and by Peter Ounce, and a careful arithmetical computation of the value thereof in money; and, after a laborious examination into Sim Travers's politics, as also into those of Peter Ounce, the trial resulted in the conclusion that Sim Travers was not so good a New Light as he professed to be, (this was founded on evidence that Sim had said ”he would leave the party if he couldn't get his share of spiles,”) and that Peter Ounce's politics were, in fact, not known to Sergeant Trap at the time he dealt with him: whereupon Trap was acquitted of each and every charge brought against him; although Theodore Fog, the Counsel for the Secret Committee, took upon himself to inform the Sergeant, somewhat authoritatively, that as he was now aware of the dangerous tendency of Ounce's principles, the President would expect him to close all accounts at the said Peter's bar, and to be more circ.u.mspect the next time.
It was generally admitted, and indeed was the common talk of the Borough, that in this notable trial Eliphalet Fox dodged, that Billy Goodlack dodged, that Sim Travers dodged, and that Tom Crop actually skulked. And the general effect of the whole was to cut the combs of the True Grits so thoroughly, that it is believed they will never rise again. Flan Sucker made a jest of this, very much to the annoyance of his friends--for Flan had taken a violent fancy to Sergeant Trap, and even at one time, it was supposed, had an idea of enlisting. He used to sit up with the Sergeant of nights and drink a good deal with him through the day, and by this means very naturally became quite a crony.
He therefore exulted much more than a True Grit, it was conceived, ought, at the Sergeant's triumphant acquittal. ”Sargeant Trap,” said he, ”Loc.u.msgillied Liphlet Fox;” and as this expression requires an explanation, he gave it, to this effect.
”Joe Snare, the bailiff over here in Tumbledown, fotch a suit before Squire Honeywell, agin Ike Swingletree for twenty-five dollars, on a cart which Joe sold him. Joe drawed up a note of hand for Ike to sign, which Ike did; and Ike never thought no more about it. Joe kept askin'
for his money, year after year, year after year, tell at last he got tired, and so fotch the suit. Ike found out at the trial that the Squire was goin' to give judgment agin him; so what does he do but sashrary the case!--whereby the case was tuck up to the Court. Well, when they came on to trial there, Ike had a lawyer who found out that the note of hand was more than three years old, and there hadn't been no promise to pay in the mean time. Thereupon the Court told Joe Snare, if he hadn't nothing to say agin' it, they must give judgment for Ike on the Statute of Lamentations. Is it that, your honor? said Snare--for Joe being bailiff was pretty well up to law, and pled his own cause;--well, may it please your honor, maybe the statue is agin me, but, your honor, I drawed up the note of hand myself, and if you'll just be so kind to look in the corner under the dog's-ear, you'll see two letters at the eend of Ike Swingletree's name tantamount to L. S., which, as I understand, your honor, goes for _Loc.u.msgilly_--whereby it takes twelve years, if I'm not mistaken, to kill the note of hand, bekase that's a bond. The judge looked and looked, and then sot up a laugh; and Ike Swingletree began to turn a little pale. Joe, says the judge, you're right, says he: that alters the case, and you must have the judgment. Joe, says he, you have beaten the lawyer and his client both--you're a clever fellow, and will get your money. So Joe accordingly got the judgment, and came off mightily pleased. And when he was tellin' me about the matter next day, he burst out in a great haw-haw, and couldn't hardly talk for laughing: Ike Swingletree, said he, sashraried _me_, but I reckon I Loc.u.msgillied _him_.
”Well, that's just what Sergeant Trap has done to Liphlet Fox--LOc.u.mSGILLIED him beautiful.”
CHAPTER XX.
THESE CHRONICLES DRAW TO A CLOSE--THE NEW LIGHTS NOT DISPLEASED WITH ELIPHALET FOX'S DISCOMFITURE--Pa.s.sAGE OF THE INDEPENDENT TREASURY BILL, AND REJOICING THEREON IN QUODLIBET--CHANGES--INTERESTING LETTER FROM THE DIBBLE FAMILY--MR. FLAM RETURNS TO QUODLIBET--HIS VIEWS OF THE CANVa.s.s--THE PRESIDENT'S RELIANCE ON THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE PEOPLE--IGNOMINY AND INSULT OF FEDERALISM--ELECTIONS IN KENTUCKY, INDIANA, AND NORTH CAROLINA--ALABAMA, MISSOURI, AND ILLINOIS--PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION--CONSTERNATION OF THE QUODS--MEETING OF THE CLUB--QUARREL OF THEODORE FOG AND HON. MIDDLETON FLAM--DEFECTION OF FOG AND SUNDRY TRUE GRITS--SECOND SPLIT--GREAT UPROAR AND CONFUSION.
My patient and indulgent reader will doubtless agree with me that it is time these gossiping chronicles were brought to a close. Indeed, I am so near upon the heels of the day in which I write, and the printer so near upon mine, that little remains to be said. I shall therefore dispatch what remains of my memoranda with such speed as shall suit my reader's longing for the end.
Although the New Lights in general bore no ill-will against that division or faction which has been distinguished in these pages by the name of True Grits, yet I must say we were not wholly displeased at the result of Serjeant Trap's trial. On the contrary, many of us chuckled in secret thereat. Eliphalet Fox we have ever acknowledged to be a useful man and a zealous--and we have not been backward to award him such meed as he deserved. But it must be told that in Eliphalet there lurks a scantling of ambition to climb higher on the ladder than our party is yet willing to afford to one of his degree. And Eliphalet moreover is suspected--Heaven forfend that I should do him wrong!--in regard to the Hon. Middleton Flam our representative, and those who are not altogether well disposed toward him, I mean Theodore Fog's adherents, (for it is manifest Theodore is looking to a seat in Congress,) utrosque parietes linere, as the Latin proverb has it, which in the vernacular signifies to wear two faces--by no means an uncommon, though a very objectionable sin in political affairs. This may be a groundless suspicion, as I would fain hope it is; but it is believed by many, and therefore the more reason was there for some secret rejoicing in Quodlibet at Eliphalet's failure in the matter of Sim Travers. It unquestionably hath made our editor of the Whole Hog more modest and seemly in his behavior of late.
The course of the canva.s.s has been growing every day more and more intensely interesting to our New Lights; and, bating some few aberrations into which we have fallen, daily gives us greater promise of the consummation of all our wishes. The pa.s.sage of the Independent Treasury bill has brought us fresh occasion of rejoicing and confidence.
After a long, and, as Tom Crop says, a b.l.o.o.d.y struggle, lo! it is at last the law of the land, and all our wishes are crowned. ”It is,” as Mr. Flam has declared, ”the unmingled, unaided, spontaneous result of popular sagacity--springing not from executive dictation, nor the influence of party discipline, but from the intuitive and instinctive wisdom of millions of freemen ground to the dust by the tyrannical pressure of a.s.sociated wealth. It is the law of the land in spite of the groans of merchants, the wailings of agriculturists, and the murmurs of mechanics. It seals the fortune of our great chief, and proclaims the immortal triumph of the New-Light Democracy.”
When the tidings of this joyful event reached us in Quodlibet, our first care was to fire one hundred guns; the next was to illuminate the Borough, and to bring out all our flags and lanterns; after this the New Lights were called together in the Court-House, where addresses were delivered by Agamemnon Flag and Theodore Fog--the latter of whom actually outdid himself in an effort that would have exalted the fame of Patrick Henry; and to close this jubilee, the Central Committee pa.s.sed a resolution declaring the bill the Second Declaration of Independence.
For this brilliant series of events we have to thank that st.u.r.dy devotion to State Rights which shone with such conspicuous l.u.s.ter in the annihilation of New Jersey by the New Lights, in the House of Representatives. But for that glorious stroke of policy the bill would again have been crushed by the serpent of opposition. Now that we have gained it, British Federal Whiggery is forever prostrate.
A fortnight after this event brought us the cheering tidings from Louisiana, to which many an anxious eye had been turned. The elections there have resulted in a splendid victory--a victory, indeed, not indicated by the polls, where the majority was _seemingly_ increased against us--but manifested in the spirit with which our people everywhere received the tidings. Until this spirit became manifest, it might be said our hopes were even wavering; but forthwith an unwonted confidence in our success has spread abroad. The sagacious Mr.
Doubleday, whose face may be called the barometer of our party, and to whom we all look for predictions of the future, now wears a countenance wreathed in smiles, and tells us that, from what he knows of the changeableness of that State, ”we may make ourselves altogether certain of the victory in the fall.”
In running over the events of the day, nothing is more deserving of our animadversion than the ostentatious display, by the British Federal Tory Whigs, of the _changes_ among the people against the New-Light Democracy;--as if here and there the change of some recreant Democrat, who is afraid to follow his leader and chooses to have opinions of his own, could stay the mighty torrent of attachment to the fortunes of our chief. We do not deny these changes; but rather rejoice that men, so little worthy of being called true Quods, should leave our standard to the tried soldiers who have marched behind it in all its vicissitudes, and fought its battles through the whole field of political experiment.
By such only can our glorious cause be upheld. But we can recount changes as well as they.
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