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 notebooks, 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 —
