The Gilded Age, Complete

M >> Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner >> The Gilded Age, Complete


"But he will not vote for your corrupt measure, nevertheless, madam!"
exclaimed Mr. Trollop, rising from his seat in a passion.

"Ah, but he will. Sit down again, and let me explain why. Oh, come,
don't behave so. It is very unpleasant. Now be good, and you shall
have, the missing page of your great speech. Here it is!"--and she
displayed a sheet of manuscript.

Mr. Trollop turned immediately back from the threshold. It might have
been gladness that flashed into his face; it might have been something
else; but at any rate there was much astonishment mixed with it.

"Good! Where did you get it? Give it me!"

"Now there is no hurry. Sit down; sit down and let us talk and be
friendly."

The gentleman wavered. Then he said:

"No, this is only a subterfuge. I will go. It is not the missing page."

Laura tore off a couple of lines from the bottom of the sheet.

"Now," she said, "you will know whether this is the handwriting or not.
You know it is the handwriting. Now if you will listen, you will know
that this must be the list of statistics which was to be the 'nub' of
your great effort, and the accompanying blast the beginning of the burst
of eloquence which was continued on the next page--and you will recognize
that there was where you broke down."

She read the page. Mr. Trollop said:

"This is perfectly astounding. Still, what is all this to me? It is
nothing. It does not concern me. The speech is made, and there an end.
I did break down for a moment, and in a rather uncomfortable place, since
I had led up to those statistics with some grandeur; the hiatus was
pleasanter to the House and the galleries than it was to me. But it is
no matter now. A week has passed; the jests about it ceased three or
four days ago. The whole thing is a matter of indifference to me, Miss
Hawkins."

"But you apologized; and promised the statistics for next day. Why
didn't you keep your promise."

"The matter was not of sufficient consequence. The time was gone by to
produce an effect with them."

"But I hear that other friends of the Soldiers' Pension Bill desire them
very much. I think you ought to let them have them."

"Miss Hawkins, this silly blunder of my copyist evidently has more
interest for you than it has for me. I will send my private secretary to
you and let him discuss the subject with you at length."

"Did he copy your speech for you?"

"Of course he did. Why all these questions? Tell me--how did you get
hold of that page of manuscript? That is the only thing that stirs a
passing interest in my mind."

"I'm coming to that." Then she said, much as if she were talking to
herself: "It does seem like taking a deal of unnecessary pains, for a
body to hire another body to construct a great speech for him and then go
and get still another body to copy it before it can be read in the
House."

"Miss Hawkins, what do yo mean by such talk as that?"

"Why I am sure I mean no harm--no harm to anybody in the world. I am
certain that I overheard the Hon. Mr. Buckstone either promise to write
your great speech for you or else get some other competent person to do
it."

"This is perfectly absurd, madam, perfectly absurd!" and Mr. Trollop
affected a laugh of derision.

"Why, the thing has occurred before now. I mean that I have heard that
Congressmen have sometimes hired literary grubs to build speeches for
them.--Now didn't I overhear a conversation like that I spoke of?"

"Pshaw! Why of course you may have overheard some such jesting nonsense.
But would one be in earnest about so farcical a thing?"

"Well if it was only a joke, why did you make a serious matter of it?
Why did you get the speech written for you, and then read it in the House
without ever having it copied?"

Mr. Trollop did not laugh this time; he seemed seriously perplexed. He
said:

"Come, play out your jest, Miss Hawkins. I can't understand what you are
contriving--but it seems to entertain you--so please, go on."

"I will, I assure you; but I hope to make the matter entertaining to you,
too. Your private secretary never copied your speech."

"Indeed? Really you seem to know my affairs better than I do myself."

"I believe I do. You can't name your own amanuensis, Mr. Trollop."

"That is sad, indeed. Perhaps Miss Hawkins can?"

"Yes, I can. I wrote your speech myself, and you read it from my
manuscript. There, now!"

Mr. Trollop did not spring to his feet and smite his brow with his hand
while a cold sweat broke out all over him and the color forsook his face
--no, he only said, "Good God!" and looked greatly astonished.

Laura handed him her commonplace-book and called his attention to the
fact that the handwriting there and the handwriting of this speech were
the same. He was shortly convinced. He laid the book aside and said,
composedly:

"Well, the wonderful tragedy is done, and it transpires that I am
indebted to you for my late eloquence. What of it? What was all this
for and what does it amount to after all? What do you propose to do
about it?"

"Oh nothing. It is only a bit of pleasantry. When I overheard that
conversation I took an early opportunity to ask Mr. Buckstone if he knew
of anybody who might want a speech written--I had a friend, and so forth
and so on. I was the friend, myself; I thought I might do you a good
turn then and depend on you to do me one by and by. I never let Mr.
Buckstone have the speech till the last moment, and when you hurried off
to the House with it, you did not know there was a missing page, of
course, but I did.

"And now perhaps you think that if I refuse to support your bill, you
will make a grand exposure?"

"Well I had not thought of that. I only kept back the page for the mere
fun of the thing; but since you mention it, I don't know but I might do
something if I were angry."

"My dear Miss Hawkins, if you were to give out that you composed my
speech, you know very well that people would say it was only your
raillery, your fondness for putting a victim in the pillory and amusing
the public at his expense. It is too flimsy, Miss Hawkins, for a person
of your fine inventive talent--contrive an abler device than that.
Come!"

"It is easily done, Mr. Trollop. I will hire a man, and pin this page on
his breast, and label it, 'The Missing Fragment of the Hon. Mr. Trollop's
Great Speech--which speech was written and composed by Miss Laura Hawkins
under a secret understanding for one hundred dollars--and the money has
not been paid.' And I will pin round about it notes in my handwriting,
which I will procure from prominent friends of mine for the occasion;
also your printed speech in the Globe, showing the connection between its
bracketed hiatus and my Fragment; and I give you my word of honor that I
will stand that human bulletin board in the rotunda of the capitol and
make him stay there a week! You see you are premature, Mr. Trollop, the
wonderful tragedy is not done yet, by any means. Come, now, doesn't it
improve?"

Mr Trollop opened his eyes rather widely at this novel aspect of the
case. He got up and walked the floor and gave himself a moment for
reflection. Then he stopped and studied Laura's face a while, and ended
by saying:

"Well, I am obliged to believe you would be reckless enough to do that."

"Then don't put me to the test, Mr. Trollop. But let's drop the matter.
I have had my joke and you've borne the infliction becomingly enough.
It spoils a jest to harp on it after one has had one's laugh. I would
much rather talk about my bill."

"So would I, now, my clandestine amanuensis. Compared with some other
subjects, even your bill is a pleasant topic to discuss."

"Very good indeed! I thought. I could persuade you. Now I am sure you
will be generous to the poor negro and vote for that bill."

"Yes, I feel more tenderly toward the oppressed colored man than I did.
Shall we bury the hatchet and be good friends and respect each other's
little secrets, on condition that I vote Aye on the measure?"

"With all my heart, Mr. Trollop. I give you my word of that."

"It is a bargain. But isn't there something else you could give me,
too?"

Laura looked at him inquiringly a moment, and then she comprehended.

"Oh, yes! You may have it now. I haven't any, more use for it." She
picked up the page of manuscript, but she reconsidered her intention of
handing it to him, and said, "But never mind; I will keep it close; no
one shall see it; you shall have it as soon as your vote is recorded."

Mr. Trollop looked disappointed. But presently made his adieux, and had
got as far as the hall, when something occurred to Laura. She said to
herself, "I don't simply want his vote under compulsion--he might vote
aye, but work against the bill in secret, for revenge; that man is
unscrupulous enough to do anything. I must have his hearty co-operation
as well as his vote. There is only one way to get that."

She called him back, and said:

"I value your vote, Mr. Trollop, but I value your influence more. You
are able to help a measure along in many ways, if you choose. I want to
ask you to work for the bill as well as vote for it."

"It takes so much of one's time, Miss Hawkins--and time is money, you
know."

"Yes, I know it is--especially in Congress. Now there is no use in you
and I dealing in pretenses and going at matters in round-about ways.
We know each other--disguises are nonsense. Let us be plain. I will
make it an object to you to work for the bill."

"Don't make it unnecessarily plain, please. There are little proprieties
that are best preserved. What do you propose?"

"Well, this." She mentioned the names of several prominent Congressmen.

"Now," said she, "these gentlemen are to vote and work for the bill,
simply out of love for the negro--and out of pure generosity I have put
in a relative of each as a member of the University incorporation. They
will handle a million or so of money, officially, but will receive no
salaries. A larger number of statesmen are to, vote and work for the
bill--also out of love for the negro--gentlemen of but moderate
influence, these--and out of pure generosity I am to see that relatives
of theirs have positions in the University, with salaries, and good ones,
too. You will vote and work for the bill, from mere affection for the
negro, and I desire to testify my gratitude becomingly. Make free
choice. Have you any friend whom you would like to present with a
salaried or unsalaried position in our institution?"

"Well, I have a brother-in-law--"

"That same old brother-in-law, you good unselfish provider! I have heard
of him often, through my agents. How regularly he does 'turn up,' to be
sure. He could deal with those millions virtuously, and withal with
ability, too--but of course you would rather he had a salaried position?"

"Oh, no," said the gentleman, facetiously, "we are very humble, very
humble in our desires; we want no money; we labor solely, for our country
and require no reward but the luxury of an applauding conscience. Make
him one of those poor hard working unsalaried corporators and let him do
every body good with those millions--and go hungry himself! I will try
to exert a little influence in favor of the bill."

Arrived at home, Mr. Trollop sat down and thought it all over--something
after this fashion: it is about the shape it might have taken if he had
spoken it aloud.

"My reputation is getting a little damaged, and I meant to clear it up
brilliantly with an exposure of this bill at the supreme moment, and ride
back into Congress on the eclat of it; and if I had that bit of
manuscript, I would do it yet. It would be more money in my pocket in
the end, than my brother-in-law will get out of that incorporatorship,
fat as it is. But that sheet of paper is out of my reach--she will never
let that get out of her hands. And what a mountain it is! It blocks up
my road, completely. She was going to hand it to me, once. Why didn't
she! Must be a deep woman. Deep devil! That is what she is;
a beautiful devil--and perfectly fearless, too. The idea of her pinning
that paper on a man and standing him up in the rotunda looks absurd at a
first glance. But she would do it! She is capable of doing anything.
I went there hoping she would try to bribe me--good solid capital that
would be in the exposure. Well, my prayer was answered; she did try to
bribe me; and I made the best of a bad bargain and let her. I am
check-mated. I must contrive something fresh to get back to Congress on.
Very well; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; I will work for
the bill--the incorporatorship will be a very good thing."

As soon as Mr. Trollop had taken his leave, Laura ran to Senator
Dilworthy and began to speak, but he interrupted her and said
distressfully, without even turning from his writing to look at her:

"Only half an hour! You gave it up early, child. However, it was best,
it was best--I'm sure it was best--and safest."

"Give it up! I!"

The Senator sprang up, all aglow:

"My child, you can't mean that you--"

"I've made him promise on honor to think about a compromise tonight and
come and tell me his decision in the morning."

"Good! There's hope yet that--"

"Nonsense, uncle. I've made him engage to let the Tennessee Land bill
utterly alone!"

"Impossible! You--"

"I've made him promise to vote with us!"

"INCREDIBLE! Abso--"

"I've made him swear that he'll work for us!"

"PRE - - - POSTEROUS!--Utterly pre--break a window, child, before I
suffocate!"

"No matter, it's true anyway. Now we can march into Congress with drums
beating and colors flying!"

"Well--well--well. I'm sadly bewildered, sadly bewildered. I can't
understand it at all--the most extraordinary woman that ever--it's a
great day, it's a great day. There--there--let me put my hand in
benediction on this precious head. Ah, my child, the poor negro will
bless--"

"Oh bother the poor negro, uncle! Put it in your speech. Good-night,
good-bye--we'll marshal our forces and march with the dawn!"

Laura reflected a while, when she was alone, and then fell to laughing,
peacefully.

"Everybody works for me,"--so ran her thought. "It was a good idea to
make Buckstone lead Mr. Trollop on to get a great speech written for him;
and it was a happy part of the same idea for me to copy the speech after
Mr. Buckstone had written it, and then keep back a page. Mr. B. was
very complimentary to me when Trollop's break-down in the House showed
him the object of my mysterious scheme; I think he will say, still finer
things when I tell him the triumph the sequel to it has gained for us.

"But what a coward the man was, to believe I would have exposed that page
in the rotunda, and so exposed myself. However, I don't know--I don't
know. I will think a moment. Suppose he voted no; suppose the bill
failed; that is to suppose this stupendous game lost forever, that I have
played so desperately for; suppose people came around pitying me--odious!
And he could have saved me by his single voice. Yes, I would have
exposed him! What would I care for the talk that that would have made
about me when I was gone to Europe with Selby and all the world was busy
with my history and my dishonor? It would be almost happiness to spite
somebody at such a time."




CHAPTER XLIII.

The very next day, sure enough, the campaign opened. In due course, the
Speaker of the House reached that Order of Business which is termed
"Notices of Bills," and then the Hon. Mr. Buckstone rose in his place and
gave notice of a bill "To Found and Incorporate the Knobs Industrial
University," and then sat down without saying anything further. The busy
gentlemen in the reporters' gallery jotted a line in their note-books,
ran to the telegraphic desk in a room which communicated with their own
writing-parlor, and then hurried back to their places in the gallery; and
by the time they had resumed their seats, the line which they had
delivered to the operator had been read in telegraphic offices in towns
and cities hundreds of miles away. It was distinguished by frankness of
language as well as by brevity:

"The child is born. Buckstone gives notice of the thieving Knobs
University job. It is said the noses have been counted and enough votes
have been bought to pass it."

For some time the correspondents had been posting their several journals
upon the alleged disreputable nature of the bill, and furnishing daily
reports of the Washington gossip concerning it. So the next morning,
nearly every newspaper of character in the land assailed the measure and
hurled broadsides of invective at Mr. Buckstone. The Washington papers
were more respectful, as usual--and conciliatory, also, as usual. They
generally supported measures, when it was possible; but when they could
not they "deprecated" violent expressions of opinion in other
journalistic quarters.

They always deprecated, when there was trouble ahead. However, 'The
Washington Daily Love-Feast' hailed the bill with warm approbation. This
was Senator Balaam's paper--or rather, "Brother" Balaam, as he was
popularly called, for he had been a clergyman, in his day; and he himself
and all that he did still emitted an odor of sanctity now that he had
diverged into journalism and politics. He was a power in the
Congressional prayer meeting, and in all movements that looked to the
spread of religion and temperance.

His paper supported the new bill with gushing affection; it was a noble
measure; it was a just measure; it was a generous measure; it was a pure
measure, and that surely should recommend it in these corrupt times; and
finally, if the nature of the bill were not known at all, the 'Love
Feast' would support it anyway, and unhesitatingly, for the fact that
Senator Dilworthy was the originator of the measure was a guaranty that
it contemplated a worthy and righteous work.

Senator Dilworthy was so anxious to know what the New York papers would
say about the bill; that he had arranged to have synopses of their
editorials telegraphed to him; he could not wait for the papers
themselves to crawl along down to Washington by a mail train which has
never run over a cow since the road was built; for the reason that it has
never been able to overtake one. It carries the usual "cow-catcher" in
front of the locomotive, but this is mere ostentation. It ought to be
attached to the rear car, where it could do some good; but instead, no
provision is made there for the protection of the traveling public, and
hence it is not a matter of surprise that cows so frequently climb aboard
that train and among the passengers.

The Senator read his dispatches aloud at the breakfast table. Laura was
troubled beyond measure at their tone, and said that that sort of comment
would defeat the bill; but the Senator said:

"Oh, not at all, not at all, my child. It is just what we want.
Persecution is the one thing needful, now--all the other forces are
secured. Give us newspaper persecution enough, and we are safe.
Vigorous persecution will alone carry a bill sometimes, dear; and when
you start with a strong vote in the first place, persecution comes in
with double effect. It scares off some of the weak supporters, true,
but it soon turns strong ones into stubborn ones. And then, presently,
it changes the tide of public opinion. The great public is weak-minded;
the great public is sentimental; the great public always turns around and
weeps for an odious murderer, and prays for-him, and carries flowers to
his prison and besieges the governor with appeals to his clemency, as
soon as the papers begin to howl for that man's blood.--In a word, the
great putty-hearted public loves to 'gush,' and there is no such darling
opportunity to gush as a case of persecution affords."

"Well, uncle, dear; if your theory is right, let us go into raptures,
for nobody can ask a heartier persecution than these editorials are
furnishing."

"I am not so sure of that, my daughter. I don't entirely like the tone
of some of these remarks. They lack vim, they lack venom. Here is one
calls it a 'questionable measure.' Bah, there is no strength in that.
This one is better; it calls it 'highway robbery.' That sounds something
like. But now this one seems satisfied to call it an 'iniquitous
scheme'. 'Iniquitous' does not exasperate anybody; it is weak--puerile.
The ignorant will imagine it to be intended for a compliment. But this
other one--the one I read last--has the true ring: 'This vile, dirty
effort to rob the public treasury, by the kites and vultures that now
infest the filthy den called Congress'--that is admirable, admirable!
We must have more of that sort. But it will come--no fear of that;
they're not warmed up, yet. A week from now you'll see."

"Uncle, you and Brother Balaam are bosom friends--why don't you get his
paper to persecute us, too?"

"It isn't worth while, my daughter. His support doesn't hurt a bill.
Nobody reads his editorials but himself. But I wish the New York papers
would talk a little plainer. It is annoying to have to wait a week for
them to warm up. I expected better things at their hands--and time is
precious, now."

At the proper hour, according to his previous notice, Mr. Buckstone duly
introduced his bill entitled "An Act to Found and Incorporate the Knobs
Industrial University," moved its proper reference, and sat down.

The Speaker of the House rattled off this observation:

"'Fnobjectionbilltakuzhlcoixrssoreferred!'"

Habitues of the House comprehended that this long, lightning-heeled word
signified that if there was no objection, the bill would take the
customary course of a measure of its nature, and be referred to the
Committee on Benevolent Appropriations, and that it was accordingly so
referred. Strangers merely supposed that the Speaker was taking a gargle
for some affection of the throat.

The reporters immediately telegraphed the introduction of the bill.--And
they added:

"The assertion that the bill will pass was premature. It is said
that many favorers of it will desert when the storm breaks upon them
from the public press."

The storm came, and during ten days it waxed more and more violent day by
day. The great "Negro University Swindle" became the one absorbing topic
of conversation throughout the Union. Individuals denounced it, journals
denounced it, public meetings denounced it, the pictorial papers
caricatured its friends, the whole nation seemed to be growing frantic
over it. Meantime the Washington correspondents were sending such
telegrams as these abroad in the land; Under date of--

SATURDAY. "Congressmen Jex and Fluke are wavering; it is believed they
will desert the execrable bill."

MONDAY. "Jex and Fluke have deserted!"

THURSDAY. "Tubbs and Huffy left the sinking ship last night"

Later on:

"Three desertions. The University thieves are getting scared, though
they will not own it."

Later:

"The leaders are growing stubborn--they swear they can carry it, but it
is now almost certain that they no longer have a majority!"

After a day or two of reluctant and ambiguous telegrams:

"Public sentiment seems changing, a trifle in favor of the bill
--but only a trifle."

And still later:

"It is whispered that the Hon. Mr. Trollop has gone over to the pirates.
It is probably a canard. Mr. Trollop has all along been the bravest and
most efficient champion of virtue and the people against the bill, and
the report is without doubt a shameless invention."

Next day:

"With characteristic treachery, the truckling and pusillanimous reptile,
Crippled-Speech Trollop, has gone over to the enemy. It is contended,
now, that he has been a friend to the bill, in secret, since the day it
was introduced, and has had bankable reasons for being so; but he himself
declares that he has gone over because the malignant persecution of the
bill by the newspapers caused him to study its provisions with more care
than he had previously done, and this close examination revealed the fact
that the measure is one in every way worthy of support. (Pretty thin!)
It cannot be denied that this desertion has had a damaging effect. Jex
and Fluke have returned to their iniquitous allegiance, with six or eight
others of lesser calibre, and it is reported and believed that Tubbs and
Huffy are ready to go back. It is feared that the University swindle is
stronger to-day than it has ever been before."

Later-midnight:

"It is said that the committee will report the bill back to-morrow. Both
sides are marshaling their forces, and the fight on this bill is
evidently going to be the hottest of the session.--All Washington is
boiling."




CHAPTER XLIV.

"It's easy enough for another fellow to talk," said Harry, despondingly,
after he had put Philip in possession of his view of the case. "It's
easy enough to say 'give her up,' if you don't care for her. What am I
going to do to give her up?"

It seemed to Harry that it was a situation requiring some active
measures. He couldn't realize that he had fallen hopelessly in love
without some rights accruing to him for the possession of the object of
his passion. Quiet resignation under relinquishment of any thing he
wanted was not in his line. And when it appeared to him that his
surrender of Laura would be the withdrawal of the one barrier that kept
her from ruin, it was unreasonable to expect that he could see how to
give her up.