A Gentleman from Mississippi - Thomas A. Wise
[Illustration: THE SENATOR AND "BUD" HAINES.]
A GENTLEMAN FROM MISSISSIPPI
A NOVEL
Founded on the popular play of the same title
PRODUCED UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF WM.A. BRADY AND JOS.R. GRISMER
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE SENATOR AND BUD HAINES
"FROM NEW YORK, EH? THE VICKSBURG OF THE NORTH"
"STRANGE, HOW THE LANGDON'S TREAT HIM AS A FRIEND"
THE SENATOR ACCEPTS AN INVITATION TO TEA
THE LANGDON FAMILY
"YOU'LL HAVE TO TAKE YOUR MEDICINE LIKE A MAN"
"TO-MORROW, AT 12.30"
"AFTER I HAVE FINISHED, I DARE ONE OF YOU TO DENY A WORD"
_INTRODUCTION_
_Here is a story of an epoch-making battle of right against wrong,
of honesty against corruption, of simplicity and sincerity against
deceit, bribery and intrigue. It is the story of to-day in this
country. It vitally concerns every man, woman and child in the United
States, so far-reaching is its influence.
The warfare is now going on--the warfare of honest men against corrupt
political machines.
The story tells the "inside" of the political maneuvers in Washington
and of the workings of bosses there and elsewhere--how they shape men
and women to their ends, how their cunning intrigues extend into the
very social life of the nation's capital. You will find inspiration in
the career of the honest old Southern planter elected to the United
States Senate and the young newspaper reporter who becomes his private
secretary and political pilot. Your heart will beat in sympathy with
the love of the secretary and the Senator's youngest daughter.
You will read of the lobbyists and find that not all of them are men.
You will see how avarice causes a daughter to conspire against her
father. You will hear the note of a gripping national tragedy in the
words of Peabody, the "boss of the Senate." But cause for laughter as
well will not be found lacking in this truly many-sided narrative._
A Gentleman from Mississippi
* * * * *
CHAPTER I
PRACTICAL POLITICS
That bids him flout the law he makes;
That bids him make the law he flouts.
_--Kipling_.
In buoyant spirit the Hon. Charles Norton rode up the bridle path
leading through the Langdon plantation to the old antebellum homestead
which, on a shaded knoll, overlooked the winding waters of the Pearl
River. No finer prospect was to be had in all Mississippi than greeted
the eye from the wide southwest porch, where on warm evenings the
Langdons and their frequent guests gathered to dine or to watch the
golden splendor of the dying sun.
The Langdon family had long been a power in the South. Its sons fought
under Andrew Jackson at New Orleans, under Zachary Taylor in the war
with Mexico, and in the Civil War men of that name left their blood
on the fields of Antietam, Shiloh, the Wilderness and Gettysburg. But
this family of fighting men, of unselfish patriots, had also marked
influence in the ways of peace, as real patriots should. Generations
of Langdons had taken deepest pride in developing the hundreds of
acres of cotton land, whose thousands of four-foot rows planted each
April spread open the silvery lined bolls in July and August, and the
ripened cotton fiber, pure white beneath the sun, gave from a distance
the picture of an expanse of driven snow.
The Hon. Charles Norton had reason for feeling well pleased with the
world as he fastened his bay Virginia hunter to a convenient post
and strode up the steps of the mansion, which was a characteristic
survivor of the "old South," the South of gilded romance and of
gripping tragedy. Now in this second year of his first term as
Congressman and a promising member of the younger set of Southern
lawyers, he had just taken active part in securing the election of
Colonel William H. Langdon, present head of the family, to the United
States Senate, though the ultimate action of the Legislature had been
really brought about by a lifelong friend of Colonel Langdon, the
senior Senator from the State, James Stevens, who had not hesitated to
flatter Norton and use him as a cat's-paw. This use the Hon. Charles
Norton seemed to consider an honor of large proportions. Not every
first-term Congressman can hope for intimacy with a Senator. Norton
believed that his work for Langdon would win him the family's
gratitude and thus further his ambition to marry Carolina, the
planter's oldest daughter, whose beauty made her the recipient of many
attentions.
A complacent gleam shone in Norton's eyes as they swept over the
fertile acres of the plantation. He thought of the material interest
he might one day have in them if his suit for the hand of Carolina
progressed favorably. Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by the
voice of young Randolph Langdon, a spirited lad in his early twenties,
who had just been made plantation manager, by his father.
"Well, how is the honorable to-day?" said Randolph, approaching from
the doorway. "I didn't think a Congressman could be spared from
Washington but rarely, especially when the papers say the country
needs such a lot of saving."
"Oh, this 'saving the country' talk goes all right in the story
books," replied Norton, who exercised considerable influence over the
youth through a long acquaintanceship and by frequently taking him
into his confidence, "but this country can take pretty good care of
itself. In Congress we representatives put the job of saving it over
on the Senate, and the Senate hands back the job to us. So what's
everybody's business isn't anybody's; a fine scheme so long as we have
a President who keeps his hands off and doesn't--"
"But how about the speeches and the bills?" broke in Randolph. "I
thought--"
"Yes, yes; to be sure," the Congressman quickly added. "Nearly all of
us introduce these so-called reform bills. When they're printed at
government expense we send copies, carried free by the Post-office
Department, to our constituents, and when we allow the bills to die in
some committee we can always blame the committee. But if there's a big
fight by our constituents over the bill we let it pass the House, but
arrange to kill it in the Senate. Then we do the same thing for the
Senators. Like in every other business, my boy," continued Norton as
he led the way into the house, "it's a case of 'you tickle me and I'll
tickle you' in politics. And don't let any one fool you about the
speeches either. They are pretty things to mail to the voters, but all
the wise boys in Washington know they aren't meant seriously. It's
all play acting, and there are better actors in the Senate than Henry
Irving or Edwin Booth ever were."
"I don't think my father looks at things in the way you do, Charlie."
"No? Well, maybe he doesn't now, but he will later on when he takes
his seat in the Senate. If he isn't wise enough to play around with
the rest of the Senators he won't get any bills passed, especially any
bill carrying an appropriation or of any other particular importance."
"What!" ejaculated the planter's son. "Do you mean to say that if
father won't do what the other Senators want him to do they will
combine against him and destroy his usefulness, make him powerless--a
failure?"
The Congressman smiled patronizingly on the youth. "Why, of course
they will. That's politics, practical politics, the only kind that's
known in Washington. You see--"
"But the leaders of the great parties!" cried the young plantation
manager, in amazement. "Why don't they prevent this?"
"Because they invented the system and because political party
differences don't amount to a whole lot much of the time in
Washington. The politicians do most of their criticizing of the other
party away from Washington, where the voters can hear them. But when
circumstances sometimes force a man to rise to assail the other side
in Congress he afterward apologizes in secret for his words. Or,
sometimes he apologizes beforehand, saying: 'I've got to hand out some
hot shot to you fellows just to please a crowd of sovereign voters
from my district who have come up to Washington to see me perform. So,
of course, I've got to make a showing; Don't mind what I say. You know
I don't mean it, but the old fogies will go back home and tell their
neighbors what a rip-snortin' reformer I be.'"
"Is that the way you represent your district; Norton?" asked Planter
Langdon, who at this juncture entered the room.
"No, no, Mr. Langdon--I should say Senator now, I suppose. I was
merely telling Randolph how some legislators conduct themselves."
The Senator-elect paused momentarily, gazing at the Congressman, who,
dark-visaged, tall, black-haired, broad-shouldered and athletic, was
visibly uneasy at having his conversation with Randolph overheard by
the father.
"No doubt it won't be all plain sailing in Washington for an
old-fashioned man like me, but I believe in the American people and
the men they send to Congress," slowly spoke the planter. "There's
Senator Stevens, for instance. He has always stood for the rights of
the people. I've read all his speeches. Just why he brought about my
election it is hard to tell, for I've been a planter all my life,
except when I fought under Beauregard. I feel that he did it out of
friendship, and I simply can't say how much I appreciate the honor. I
am indebted to you, too, Congressman."
Tactfully disclaiming any credit for his work, only Norton's
congressional training in repression enabled him to refrain from
smiling at Langdon's innocence, his belief in Stevens' sincerity and
his wonder over his election. Stevens, the keen, cold and resourceful,
who forced his officeholders to yield him parts of their government
salaries; Stevens, who marketed to railway companies his influence
with the Department of Justice; Stevens, who was a Republican in
the committee room in Washington and a Democrat on the platform
in Mississippi; Stevens, who had consummated the deal with Martin
Sanders, boss of seven counties, to elect Langdon because of the
planter's trustfulness and simplicity of character, which should make
him easy to influence and to handle in the all-important matter of the
gulf naval base project!
The entry of Carolina Langdon and her younger sister, Hope Georgia,
gave Norton a welcome opportunity to shift the trend of conversation.
"You ladies will have a gay time in Washington," he began, after
directing a particularly enthusiastic greeting to Carolina. "You will
be in great demand at all the big affairs, and I don't think you
will ever want to come back to old Mississippi, forty miles from a
railroad, with few chances to wear your New York gowns."
Carolina spoke quickly, her face flushing at the thought of the new
vista of life now opening. "Yes, I have always longed to be a part of
the real life of this world; the life of constant action--meeting
new people every day, and prominent people. Balls, receptions, teas,
theater parties, afternoon drives, plenty of money and plenty of
gayety are what I want. I'm not a bit like Hope Georgia, who thinks
these ideas are extravagant because she has not seen real life yet--"
"Carolina, you must not think me 'only your little sister' now. I have
seen life. Haven't I spent a week in Jackson?"
"That's enough proof. You know all about life, I'm sure, Miss Hope
Georgia," smilingly remarked Norton.
Later, rising to join Planter Langdon on the veranda, where he had
gone to smoke, the Congressman gazed intently at Carolina. "You will
probably forget your old friends when you enter the dizzy social race
in Washington."
"No, Charlie, I couldn't forget you, anyhow. You will be there, too. I
shall depend on you a great deal to take me about, unless you are too
busy making speeches and fighting your opponents."
Again it was Norton's turn to be inwardly amused at the political
ignorance of the Langdon family. Speeches? The first-term Congressman
doesn't make speeches in Washington, because no one cares what he
thinks--except the lobbyists, whose business it is to provide new
members with a complete set of thoughts. Neither does he have
opponents--he is not considered important enough by the veterans to be
opposed.
Skilfully approaching the subject which next to Carolina Langdon
had been uppermost in his mind during his visit, Norton asked the
Senator-elect on joining him if he did not believe that the entire
South would benefit if the plan to establish a naval base on the gulf
was successfully carried through.
"Most certainly I do, and, as I said during the senatorial fight, the
whole country as well will be the gainer," responded Langdon.
"Don't you think the people who want Altacoola chosen as the site have
the best arguments?" was the visitor's next question, the reply to
which he anxiously awaited.
"Yes, I do, from what I've already heard; but I haven't heard very
much of what the folks who advocate other sites have to say. So, until
I've heard all sides and made my own examination, I couldn't give
any one my final answer, but Altacoola seems to have the necessary
qualifications."
"Senator Stevens is in favor of Altacoola," eagerly suggested Norton.
"Yes, and that's a pretty good argument in its favor," responded
Langdon.
Norton now excused himself, pleading an appointment with a client at a
neighboring village. Waving farewell to Carolina and Hope Georgia,
who stood at a window, he rode away. "The old man is sure to be
all right," he muttered. "He leans toward Altacoola and believes in
Stevens. He'll lean some more until he falls over--into the trap.
There's a fortune in sight--within reach. Langdon has faith in his
friends. He won't suspect a thing."
Still another thought occurred to the Hon. Charles Norton. "Stevens
elected Langdon out of friendship," he chuckled, gleefully. "That will
be well worth telling in Washington."
CHAPTER II
THE WARS OF PEACE
"Big Bill" Langdon was the term by which the new Senator from
Mississippi had been affectionately known to his intimates for years.
He carried his 230 pounds with ease, bespeaking great muscular power
in spite of his gray hairs. His rugged courage, unswerving honesty and
ready belief in his friends won him a loyal following, some of whom
frequently repeated what was known as "Bill Langdon's Golden Rule":
"There never was a man yet who didn't have some good in him, but most
folks don't know this because their own virtues pop up and blind 'em
when they look at somebody else."
At the reunions of his old war comrades Langdon was always depended
on to describe once again how the Third Mississippi charged at
Crawfordsville and defeated the Eighth Illinois. But the stirring
events of the past had served to increase the planter's fondness for
his home life and his children, whose mother had died years before. At
times he regretted that his unexpected political duties would take him
away from the old plantation even though the enthusiastic approval of
Carolina and Hope Georgia proved considerable compensation.
Although not sworn in as Senator, Colonel Langdon's political duties
were already pressing. A few days after Congressman Norton's visit he
sat in his library conferring with several prominent citizens of his
county regarding a plan to ask Congress to appropriate money to dredge
a portion of the channel of the Pearl River, which would greatly aid a
large section of the State.
During the deliberations the name of Martin Sanders was announced by
Jackson, the Colonel's gravely decorous negro bodyguard, who boasted
that he "wuz brung up by Cunel Marse Langdon, suh, a fightin'
Mississippi cunel, suh, sence long befo' de wah and way befo' dat,
suh."
"Show Mr. Sanders right in," commanded Colonel Langdon.
"Good-day, Senator," spoke Sanders, the boss of seven counties, as he
entered. Glancing around the room, he continued, bending toward the
Colonel and muffling his now whispering voice with his hand: "I want
to speak to you alone. I'm here on politics."
"That's all right; but these gentlemen here are my friends and
constituents," was the reply in no uncertain voice. "When I talk
politics they have a perfect right to hear what I, as their Senator,
say. Out with it, Mr. Sanders."
As Sanders was introduced to the members of the conference he grew red
in the face and stared at Langdon, amazed. At last he had discovered
something new in politics. "Say," he finally blurted out, "when I talk
business I--"
"Are you in politics as a business?" quickly spoke Colonel Langdon.
"Why--I--er--no, of course not," the visitor stammered. "I am in
politics for my party's sake, just like everybody else," and Sanders
grinned suggestively at his questioner.
"Have you anything further to say?" asked Langdon, in a tone hinting
that he would like to be rid of his caller.
"Well, since you are so very new in this game, Senator, I'll talk
right out in meetin', as they call it. I came to ask about an
appointment an' to tip you off on a couple o' propositions. I want
Jim Hagley taken care of--you've heard of Jim--was clerk o' Fenimore
County. A $2,000 a year job'll do for him; $500 o' that he gives to
the organization."
"You're the organization, aren't you?" queried Langdon.
"Why, yes. Are you just gettin' wise?" cried Sanders. "Haven't I got
fellers, voters, VOTERS, VOTERS, d--n it, hangin' on to me that needs
to be taken care of! An' so I make the fellers that work help those
that don't. Why, Langdon, what'n h--l are you kickin' an' questioning'
about? Didn't you get my twelve votes in the Legislature? Did you have
a chance for Senator without 'em? Answer me that, will you? Why, with
'em you only had two more than needed to elect, an' the opposition
crowd was solid for Wilson," cried the angry boss, pounding the long
table before which Langdon sat.
"I'll answer you almighty quick," retorted the now thoroughly aroused
Senator-elect, rising and shaking his clenched fist at Sanders. "Those
twelve votes you say were yours--yours?"
"Yes, mine. Them noble legislators that cast 'em was an' is mine,
mine. I tell you, jest like I had 'em in my pocket, an' that's where I
mostly carry 'em, so as they won't go strayin' aroun' careless like."
"You didn't have to vote those men for me. I told you at the Capitol
that I would not make you or anybody else any promises. You voted them
for me of your own accord. That's my answer."
At this point the gentlemen of the county present when Sanders entered
and who had no desire to witness further the unpleasant episode, rose
to leave, in spite of the urgent request of Colonel Langdon that they
remain. The only one reluctant to go was Deacon Amos Smallwood, who,
coming to the plantation to seek employment for his son, had not been
denied of his desire to join the assemblage of his neighbors.
Last to move toward the door, he stopped in front of Sanders,
stretched his five feet three inches of stature on tiptoe, and shook a
withered fist in the boss' firmly set, determined face.
"Infamous!" shrieked the deacon. "You're a monster! You're
unrighteous! You should have belonged to the political machine of
Cataline or Pontius Pilate!"
"Never heard tell o' them," muttered Sanders, deeply puzzled. "Guess
they was never in Mississippi in my time."
His accompanying gesture of perplexity caused the deacon to hasten his
exit. Tripping over the leg of a chair, he fell headlong into the
arms of the watchful Jackson, who received the deacon's blessing for
"uplifting the righteous in the hour of their fall."
Relieved at the departure of the witnesses, Sanders showed increased
aggressiveness. "To be sure, Senator, you were careful not to
personally promise me anything for my support at the election, as you
say," the leader sneered; "but you had Jim Stevens to make promises
for you, which was smooth, absolute an' artistic smooth--"
"Stop, sir!" Langdon furiously shouted. "You forget, sir, that your
insinuation is an insult to a man elected Senator from Mississippi, an
insult to my State and to my friend Senator Stevens, who I know would
make you no promises for me, for he had not my authority."
"Certainly you're a Senator, but what's a Senator, anyhow? I'll tell
you, Mr. Colonel Langdon, a Senator is a man who holds out for his own
pocket as much as us fellows that make him will stand for. When we
don't get our rightful share, he's through."
With a sudden start, as though to spring at Sanders' throat, Langdon,
with compressed lips and eyes blazing, grasped the edge of the
table with a grip that threatened to rend the polished boards. With
intensest effort he slowly regained control of himself. His fury had
actually weakened him. His knees shook, and he sank weakly into a
chair. When he finally spoke his voice was strained and laborious.
"Sanders, you and I, sir, must never meet again, because I might not
succeed in keeping my hands off you. What would my old comrades of the
Third Mississippi say if they saw me sitting here and you there with
a whole body, sir, after what you have said? They would not believe
their eyes, thank God, sir. They would all go over to Stuart City and
buy new glasses, sir." A suspicious moisture appeared on the Colonel's
cheeks which he could not dry too quickly to escape Sanders'
observation.
"But I had to let you stay, sir, because you, the sole accuser, are
the only one who can tell me what I must know."
"What do you want to know?" asked Sanders, who had realized his great
mistake in losing his temper, in talking as openly and as violently
as he had and in dragging the name of Senator Stevens into the
controversy. He must try to keep Stevens from hearing of this day's
blunder, for Jim Stevens knew as well as he, didn't he, that the man
who loses his temper, like the man who talks too much, is of no use in
politics.
"I want to know how you formed your opinion of political matters--of
Senators. Is it possible, sir, that you have actual knowledge of
actual happenings that give you the right to talk as you have? I want
to know if I must feel shame, feel disgrace, sir, to be a Senator from
Mississippi; that State, sir, that the Almighty himself, sir, would
choose to live in if he came to earth."
"There, there, Senator, don't take too seriously what I have said,"
Sanders replied in reassuring tone, having outlined his course of
action. "I lost my head because you wouldn't promise me something I
needed--that appointment for Hagley. What I said about Senators an'
such was all wild words--nothin' in 'em. Why, how could there be,
Senator?" This query was a happy afterthought which Sanders craftily
suggested in a designedly artless manner.
"Just what I thought and know!" exclaimed Langdon, sharply. "It
couldn't be; it isn't possible. Now you go, sir, and let it be your
greatest disgrace that you are not fit to enter any gentleman's
house."
"Oh, don't rub it in too hard, Senator. You may need my help some day,
but you'll have to deliver the goods beforehand."
"I said, 'Go!'"
"I'm goin', but here's a tip. Don't blame me for fightin' you. I've
got to fight to live. I'm a human bein', an' humans are pretty much
the same all over the world; all except you--you're only half natural.
The rest of you is reformer."
After Sanders' departure the Colonel sat at his table, his head
resting in his hand, the events of the day crowding his brain
bewilderingly.
"The battles of peace are worse than any Beauregard ever led me into,"
he murmured. "Fighting o conquer oneself is harder than turning the
left flank of the Eighth Illinois in an enfilading fire."
But the new Senator from Mississippi did not know that for him the
wars of peace had only just begun, that perhaps his own flesh and
blood and that of the wife and mother who had gone before would turn
traitor to his colors in the very thickest of the fray.
CHAPTER III
HOW TO PLEASE A SENATOR
The International Hotel in Washington was all hustle and bustle. Was
it not preparing for its first Senator since 1885? No less a personage
than the Hon. William H. Langdon of Mississippi, said to be a warm
personal friend of Senator Stevens, one of the leading members of his
party at the capital, had engaged a suit of rooms for himself and two
daughters.
"Ain't it the limit?" remarked the chief clerk to Bud Haines,
correspondent of the New York _Star_. "The Senator wrote us that he
was coming here because his old friend, the late Senator Moseley, said
back in '75 that this was the best hotel in Washington and where all
the prominent men ought to stay."
Haines, the ablest political reporter in Washington, had come to the
International to interview the new Senator, to describe for his paper
what kind of a citizen Langdon was. He glanced around at the dingy
woodwork, the worn cushions, the nicked and uneven tiles of the hotel
lobby, and smiled at the clerk. "Well, if this is the new Senator's
idea of princely luxury he will fit right into the senatorial
atmosphere." Both laughed derisively. "By the way," added Haines, "I
suppose you'll raise your rates now that you've got a Senator here."
The clerk brought his fist down on the register with a thud.
"We could have them every day if we wanted them. This fellow, though,
we'll have all winter, I guess. His son's here now. Been breaking all
records for drinking. Congressman Norton of Mississippi has been down
here with him a few times. There young Langdon is now."