THE SECOND MISSOURI COMPROMISE
I
The Legislature had sat up all night, much absorbed, having taken offits coat because of the stove. This was the fortieth and final day ofits first session under an order of things not new only, but novel. Itsat with the retrospect of forty days' duty done, and the prospect offorty days' consequent pay to come. Sleepy it was not, but wide andwider awake over a progressing crisis. Hungry it had been until after abreakfast fetched to it from the Overland at seven, three hours ago. Ithad taken no intermission to wash its face, nor was there just now anyapparatus for this, as the tin pitcher commonly used stood not in thebasin in the corner, but on the floor by the Governor's chair; so theeyes of the Legislature, though earnest, were dilapidated. Last nightthe pressure of public business had seemed over, and no turning back thehands of the clock likely to be necessary. Besides Governor Ballard, Mr.Hewley, Secretary and Treasurer, was sitting up too, small, iron-gray,in feature and bearing every inch the capable, dignified official, buthis necktie had slipped off during the night. The bearded Councillorshad the best of it, seeming after their vigil less stale in the facethan the member from Silver City, for instance, whose day-old blackgrowth blurred his dingy chin, or the member from Big Camas, whosescantier red crop bristled on his cheeks in sparse wanderingarrangements, like spikes on the barrel of a musical box. For comfort,most of the pistols were on the table with the Statutes of the UnitedStates. Secretary and Treasurer Hewley's lay on his strong-boximmediately behind him. The Governor's was a light one, and always hungin the arm hole of his waistcoat. The graveyard of Boise City this yearhad twenty-seven tenants, two brought there by meningitis, andtwenty-five by difference of opinion. Many denizens of the Territorywere miners, and the unsettling element of gold-dust hung in the air,breeding argument. The early, thin, bright morning steadily mellowedagainst the windows distant from the stove; the panes melted clear untilthey ran, steamed faintly, and dried, this fresh May day, after thenight's untimely cold; while still the Legislature sat in itsshirt-sleeves, and several statesmen had removed their boots. Even hadappearances counted, the session was invisible from the street. Unlike agood number of houses in the town, the State-House (as they called itfrom old habit) was not all on the ground-floor for outsiders to stareinto, but up a flight of wood steps to a wood gallery. From this, to besure, the interior could be watched from several windows on both sides;but the journey up the steps was precisely enough to disincline theidle, and this was counted a sensible thing by the law-makers. They tookthe ground that shaping any government for a raw wilderness communityneeded seclusion, and they set a high value upon unworried privacy.
The sun had set upon a concentrated Council, but it rose upon faces thatlooked momentous. Only the Governor's and Treasurer's were impassive,and they concealed something even graver than the matter in hand.
"I'll take a hun'red mo', Gove'nuh," said the member from Silver City,softly, his eyes on space. His name was Powhattan Wingo.
The Governor counted out the blue, white, and red chips to Wingo,pencilled some figures on a thickly ciphered and cancelled paper thatbore in print the words "Territory of Idaho, Council Chamber," and thenfilled up his glass from the tin pitcher, adding a little sugar.
"And I'll trouble you fo' the toddy," Wingo added, always softly, andhis eyes always on space. "Raise you ten, suh." This was to theTreasurer. Only the two were playing at present. The Governor was kindlyacting as bank; the others were looking on.
"And ten," said the Treasurer.
"And ten," said Wingo.
"And twenty," said the Treasurer.
"And fifty," said Wingo, gently bestowing his chips in the middle of thetable.
The Treasurer called.
The member from Silver City showed down five high hearts, and a lightrustle went over the Legislature when the Treasurer displayed three twosand a pair of threes, and gathered in his harvest. He had drawn twocards, Wingo one; and losing to the lowest hand that could have beatenyou is under such circumstances truly hard luck. Moreover, it was almostthe only sort of luck that had attended Wingo since about half afterthree that morning. Seven hours of cards just a little lower than yourneighbor's is searching to the nerves.
"Gove'nuh, I'll take a hun'red mo'," said Wingo; and once again theLegislature rustled lightly, and the new deal began.
Treasurer Hewley's winnings flanked his right, a pillared fortress onthe table, built chiefly of Wingo's misfortunes. Hewley had not countedthem, and his architecture was for neatness and not ostentation; yet theLegislature watched him arrange his gains with sullen eyes. It wouldhave pleased him now to lose; it would have more than pleased him to beable to go to bed quite a long time ago. But winners cannot easily go tobed. The thoughtful Treasurer bet his money and deplored this luck. Itseemed likely to trap himself and the Governor in a predicament they hadnot foreseen. All had taken a hand at first, and played for severalhours, until Fortune's wheel ran into a rut deeper than usual. Wingoslowly became the loser to several, then Hewley had forged ahead, winnerfrom everybody. One by one they had dropped out, each meaning to gohome, and all lingering to see the luck turn. It was an extraordinaryrun, a rare specimen, a breaker of records, something to refer to in thefuture as a standard of measure and an embellishment of reminiscence;quite enough to keep the Idaho Legislature up all night. And then it wastheir friend who was losing. The only speaking in the room was the briefcard talk of the two players.
"Five better," said Hewley, winner again four times in the last five.
"Ten," said Wingo.
"And twenty," said the Secretary and Treasurer.
"Call you."
"Three kings."
"They are good, suh. Gove'nuh, I'll take a hun'red mo'."
Upon this the wealthy and weary Treasurer made a try for liberty andbed. How would it do, he suggested, to have a round of jack-pots, sayten--or twenty, if the member from Silver City preferred--and then stop?It would do excellently, the member said, so softly that the Governorlooked at him. But Wingo's large countenance remained inexpressive, hisblack eyes still impersonally fixed on space. He sat thus till his chipswere counted to him, and then the eyes moved to watch the cards fall.The Governor hoped he might win now, under the jack-pot system. At noonhe should have a disclosure to make; something that would need the mostcheerful and contented feelings in Wingo and the Legislature to bereceived with any sort of calm. Wingo was behind the game to the tuneof--the Governor gave up adding as he ran his eye over the figures ofthe bank's erased and tormented record, and he shook his head tohimself. This was inadvertent.
"May I inquah who yo're shakin' yoh head at, suh?" said Wingo, wheelingupon the surprised Governor.
"Certainly," answered that official. "You." He was never surprised forvery long. In 1867 it did not do to remain surprised in Idaho.
"And have I done anything which meets yoh disapprobation?" pursued themember from Silver City, enunciating with care.
"You have met my disapprobation."
Wingo's eye was on the Governor, and now his friends drew a littletogether, and as a unit sent a glance of suspicion at the lone bank.
"You will gratify me by being explicit, suh," said Wingo to the bank.
"Well, you've emptied the toddy."
"Ha-ha, Gove'nuh! I rose, suh, to yoh little fly. We'll awduh some mo'."
"Time enough when he comes for the breakfast things," said GovernorBallard, easily.
"As you say, suh. I'll open for five dolluhs." Wingo turned back to hisgame. He was winning, and as his luck continued his voice ceased to besoft, and became a shade truculent. The Governor's ears caught thischange, and he also noted the lurking triumph in the faces of Wingo'sfellow-statesmen. Cheerfulness and content were scarcely reigning yet inthe Council Chamber of Idaho as Ballard sat watching the friendly game.He was beginning to fear that he must leave the Treasurer alone and takesome precautions outside. But he would have to be separated for sometime from his ally, cut off from giving him any hints. Once theTreas
urer looked at him, and he immediately winked reassuringly, but theTreasurer failed to respond. Hewley might be able to wink aftereverything was over, but he could not find it in his serious heart to doso now. He was wondering what would happen if this game should last tillnoon with the company in its present mood. Noon was the time fixed forpaying the Legislative Assembly the compensation due for its servicesduring this session; and the Governor and the Treasurer had put theirheads together and arranged a surprise for the Legislative Assembly.They were not going to pay them.
A knock sounded at the door, and on seeing the waiter from the Overlandenter, the Governor was seized with an idea. Perhaps precaution couldbe taken from the inside. "Take this pitcher," said he, "and have itrefilled with the same. Joseph knows my mixture." But Joseph was nightbar-tender, and now long in his happy bed, with a day successor in thesaloon, and this one did not know the mixture. Ballard had foreseen thiswhen he spoke, and that his writing a note of directions would seemquite natural.
"The receipt is as long as the drink," said a legislator, watching theGovernor's pencil fly.
"He don't know where my private stock is located," explained Ballard.The waiter departed with the breakfast things and the note, and whilethe jack-pots continued the Governor's mind went carefully over thesituation.
Until lately the Western citizen has known one every-day experience thatno dweller in our thirteen original colonies has had for two hundredyears. In Massachusetts they have not seen it since 1641; in Virginianot since 1628. It is that of belonging to a community of which everyadult was born somewhere else. When you come to think of this a littleit is dislocating to many of your conventions. Let a citizen of Salem,for instance, or a well-established Philadelphia Quaker, try to imaginehis chief-justice fresh from Louisiana, his mayor from Arkansas, histax-collector from South Carolina, and himself recently arrived in awagon from a thousand-mile drive. To be governor of such a communityBallard had travelled in a wagon from one quarter of the horizon; fromanother quarter Wingo had arrived on a mule. People reached Boise inthree ways: by rail to a little west of the Missouri, after which it waswagon, saddle, or walk for the remaining fifteen hundred miles; fromCalifornia it was shorter; and from Portland, Oregon, only about fivehundred miles, and some of these more agreeable, by water up theColumbia. Thus it happened that salt often sold for its weight ingold-dust. A miner in the Bannock Basin would meet a freight teamstercoming in with the staples of life, having journeyed perhaps sixtyconsecutive days through the desert, and valuing his salt highly. Thetwo accordingly bartered in scales, white powder against yellow, andboth parties content. Some in Boise to-day can remember these bargains.After all, they were struck but thirty years ago. Governor Ballard andTreasurer Hewley did not come from the same place, but they constituteda minority of two in Territorial politics because they hailed from northof Mason and Dixon's line. Powhattan Wingo and the rest of the Councilwere from Pike County, Missouri. They had been Secessionists, some ofthem Knights of the Golden Circle; they had belonged to Price's LeftWing, and they flocked together. They were seven--two lying unwell atthe Overland, five now present in the State-House with the Governor andTreasurer. Wingo, Gascon Claiborne, Gratiot des Peres, Pete Cawthon, andF. Jackson Gilet were their names. Besides this Council of seven werethirteen members of the Idaho House of Representatives, mostly of thesame political feather with the Council, and they too would be presentat noon to receive their pay. How Ballard and Hewley came to be aminority of two is a simple matter. Only twenty-five months had gonesince Appomattox Court-House. That surrender was presently followed byJohnston's to Sherman, at Durhams Station, and following this thevarious Confederate armies in Alabama, or across the Mississippi, orwherever they happened to be, had successively surrendered--but notPrice's Left Wing. There was the wide open West under its nose, and noGrant or Sherman infesting that void. Why surrender? Wingos, Claibornes,and all, they melted away. Price's Left Wing sailed into the prairie andpassed below the horizon. To know what it next did you must, likeBallard or Hewley, pass below the horizon yourself, clean out of sightof the dome at Washington to remote, untracked Idaho. There, besideswild red men in quantities, would you find not very tame white ones,gentlemen of the ripest Southwestern persuasion, and a Legislature tofit. And if, like Ballard or Hewley, you were a Union man, and thePresident of the United States had appointed you Governor or Secretaryof such a place, your days would be full of awkwardness, though yourdifference in creed might not hinder you from playing draw-poker withthe unreconstructed. These Missourians were whole-souled, ample-naturedmales in many ways, but born with a habit of hasty shooting. TheGovernor, on setting foot in Idaho, had begun to study pistolship, butacquired thus in middle life it could never be with him that spontaneousart which it was with Price's Left Wing. Not that the weapons now lyingloose about the State-House were brought for use there. Everybody alwayswent armed in Boise, as the gravestones impliedly testified. Still, thethought of the bad quarter of an hour which it might come to at noon didcross Ballard's mind, raising the image of a column in the morrow'spaper: "An unfortunate occurrence has ended relations between esteemedgentlemen hitherto the warmest personal friends.... They will be laidto rest at 3 p.m.... As a last token of respect for our lamentedGovernor, the troops from Boise Barracks...." The Governor trusted thatif his friends at the post were to do him any service it would not be afuneral one.
The new pitcher of toddy came from the Overland, the jack-potscontinued, were nearing a finish, and Ballard began to wonder ifanything had befallen a part of his note to the bar-tender, an enclosureaddressed to another person.
"Ha, suh!" said Wingo to Hewley. "My pot again, I declah." The chips hadbeen crossing the table his way, and he was now loser but six hundreddollars.
"Ye ain't goin' to whip Mizzooruh all night an' all day, ez a rule,"observed Pete Cawthon, Councillor from Lost Leg.
"'Tis a long road that has no turnin', Gove'nuh," said F. Jackson Gilet,more urbanely. He had been in public life in Missouri, and was nowPresident of the Council in Idaho. He, too, had arrived on a mule, butcould at will summon a rhetoric dating from Cicero, and preserved bymany luxuriant orators until after the middle of the present century.
"True," said the Governor, politely. "But here sits the long-sufferingbank, whichever way the road turns. I'm sleepy."
"You sacrifice yo'self in the good cause," replied Gilet, pointing tothe poker game. "Oneasy lies the head that wahs an office, suh." AndGilet bowed over his compliment.
The Governor thought so indeed. He looked at the Treasurer's strong-box,where lay the appropriation lately made by Congress to pay the IdahoLegislature for its services; and he looked at the Treasurer, in whosepocket lay the key of the strong-box. He was accountable to the Treasuryat Washington for all money disbursed for Territorial expenses.
"Eleven twenty," said Wingo, "and only two hands mo' to play."
The Governor slid out his own watch.
"I'll scahsely recoup," said Wingo.
They dealt and played the hand, and the Governor strolled to the window.
"Three aces," Wingo announced, winning again handsomely. "I struck myluck too late," he commented to the on-lookers. While losing he had beenable to sustain a smooth reticence; now he gave his thoughts freely tothe company, and continually moved and fingered his increasing chips.The Governor was still looking out of the window, where he could see farup the street, when Wingo won the last hand, which was small. "That endsit, suh, I suppose?" he said to Hewley, letting the pack of cards lingerin his grasp.
"I wouldn't let him off yet," said Ballard to Wingo from the window,with sudden joviality, and he came back to the players. "I'd make himthrow five cold hands with me."
"Ah, Gove'nuh, that's yoh spo'tin' blood! Will you do it, MistuhHewley--a hun'red a hand?"
Mr. Hewley did it; and winning the first, he lost the second, third, andfourth in the space of an eager minute, while the Councillors drew theirchairs close.
"Let me see," said Wingo, calculating, "if I
lose this--why still--" Helost. "But I'll not have to ask you to accept my papuh, suh. Wingoliquidates. Fo'ty days at six dolluhs a day makes six times fo' istwenty-fo'--two hun'red an' fo'ty dolluhs spot cash in hand at noon,without computation of mileage to and from Silver City at fo' dolluhsevery twenty miles, estimated according to the nearest usually travelledroute." He was reciting part of the statute providing mileage for Idaholegislators. He had never served the public before, and he knew all thelaws concerning compensation by heart. "You'll not have to wait fo' yohmoney, suh," he concluded.
"Well, Mr. Wingo," said Governor Ballard, "it depends on yourselfwhether your pay comes to you or not." He spoke cheerily. "If you don'tsee things my way, our Treasurer will have to wait for his money." Hehad not expected to break the news just so, but it made as easy abeginning as any.
"See things yoh way, suh?"
"Yes. As it stands at present I cannot take the responsibility of payingyou."
"The United States pays me, suh. My compensation is provided by act ofCongress."
"I confess I am unable to discern your responsibility, Gove'nuh," saidF. Jackson Gilet. "Mr. Wingo has faithfully attended the session, andis, like every gentleman present, legally entitled to his emoluments."
"You can all readily become entitled--"
"All? Am I--are my friends--included in this new depa'tyuh?"
"The difficulty applies generally, Mr. Gilet."
"Do I understand the Gove'nuh to insinuate--nay, gentlemen, do not rise!Be seated, I beg." For the Councillors had leaped to their feet.
"Whar's our money?" said Pete Cawthon. "Our money was put in thet yerebox."
Ballard flushed angrily, but a knock at the door stopped him, and hemerely said, "Come in."
A trooper, a corporal, stood at the entrance, and the disordered Councilendeavored to look usual in a stranger's presence. They resumed theirseats, but it was not easy to look usual on such short notice.
"Captain Paisley's compliments," said the soldier, mechanically, "andwill Governor Ballard take supper with him this evening?"
"Thank Captain Paisley," said the Governor (his tone was quite usual),"and say that official business connected with the end of the sessionmakes it imperative for me to be at the State-House. Imperative."
The trooper withdrew. He was a heavy-built, handsome fellow, with blackmustache and black eyes that watched through two straight, narrow slitsbeneath straight black brows. His expression in the Council Chamber hadbeen of the regulation military indifference, and as he went down thesteps he irrelevantly sang an old English tune:
"'Since first I saw your face I resolved To honor and re--'
"I guess," he interrupted himself as he unhitched his horse, "parrot andmonkey hev broke loose."
The Legislature, always in its shirt-sleeves, the cards on the table,and the toddy on the floor, sat calm a moment, cooled by this briefpause from the first heat of its surprise, while the clatter of CorporalJones's galloping shrank quickly into silence.
II
Captain Paisley walked slowly from the adjutant's office at BoiseBarracks to his quarters, and his orderly walked behind him. The captaincarried a letter in his hand, and the orderly, though distant arespectful ten paces, could hear him swearing plain as day. When hereached his front door Mrs. Paisley met him.
"Jim," cried she, "two more chickens froze in the night." And thedelighted orderly heard the captain so plainly that he had to blow hisnose or burst.
The lady, merely remarking "My goodness, Jim," retired immediately tothe kitchen, where she had a soldier cook baking, and feared he was notquite sober enough to do it alone. The captain had paid eighty dollarsfor forty hens this year at Boise, and twenty-nine had now passed away,victims to the climate. His wise wife perceived his extreme language notto have been all on account of hens, however; but he never allowed herto share in his professional worries, so she stayed safe with thebaking, and he sat in the front room with a cigar in his mouth.
Boise was a two-company post without a major, and Paisley, being seniorcaptain, was in command, an office to which he did not object. But hisduties so far this month of May had not pleased him in the least.Theoretically, you can have at a two-company post the followingresponsible people: one major, two captains, four lieutenants, a doctor,and a chaplain. The major has been spoken of; it is almost needless tosay that the chaplain was on leave, and had never been seen at Boise byany of the present garrison; two of the lieutenants were also on leave,and two on surveying details--they had influence at Washington; theother captain was on a scout with General Crook somewhere near theMalheur Agency, and the doctor had only arrived this week. There hadresulted a period when Captain Paisley was his own adjutant,quartermaster, and post surgeon, with not even an efficient sergeant torely upon; and during this period his wife had stayed a good deal in thekitchen. Happily the doctor's coming had given relief to the hospitalsteward and several patients, and to the captain not only an equal, butan old friend, with whom to pour out his disgust; and together everyevening they freely expressed their opinion of the War Department andits treatment of the Western army.
There were steps at the door, and Paisley hurried out. "Only you!" heexclaimed, with such frank vexation that the doctor laughed loudly."Come in, man, come in," Paisley continued, leading him strongly by thearm, sitting him down, and giving him a cigar. "Here's a pretty how dedo!"
"More Indians!" inquired Dr. Tuck.
"Bother! they're nothing. It's Senators--Councillors--whatever theTerritorial devils call themselves."
"Gone on the war-path?" the doctor said, quite ignorant how nearly hehad touched the Council.
"Precisely, man. War-path. Here's the Governor writing me they'll bescalping him in the State-House at twelve o'clock. It's past 11.30.They'll be whetting knives about now." And the captain roared.
"I know you haven't gone crazy," said the doctor, "but who has?"
"The lot of them. Ballard's a good man, and--what's his name?--thelittle Secretary. The balance are just mad dogs--mad dogs. Look here:'Dear Captain'--that's Ballard to me. I just got it--'I find myselfunexpectedly hampered this morning. The South shows signs of being toosolid. Unless I am supported, my plan for bringing our Legislature toterms will have to be postponed. Hewley and I are more likely to bebrought to terms ourselves--a bad precedent to establish in Idaho. Noonis the hour for drawing salaries. Ask me to supper as quick as you can,and act on my reply.' I've asked him," continued Paisley, "but I haven'ttold Mrs. Paisley to cook anything extra yet." The captain paused toroar again, shaking Tuck's shoulder for sympathy. Then he explained thesituation in Idaho to the justly bewildered doctor. Ballard had confidedmany of his difficulties lately to Paisley.
"He means you're to send troops?" Tuck inquired.
"What else should the poor man mean?"
"Are you sure it's constitutional?"
"Hang constitutional! What do I know about their legal quibbles atWashington?"
"But, Paisley--"
"They're unsurrendered rebels, I tell you. Never signed a parole."
"But the general amnesty--"
"Bother general amnesty! Ballard represents the Federal government inthis Territory, and Uncle Sam's army is here to protect the Federalgovernment. If Ballard calls on the army it's our business to obey, andif there's any mistake in judgment it's Ballard's, not mine." Which wassound soldier common-sense, and happened to be equally good law. This isnot always the case.
"You haven't got any force to send," said Tuck.
This was true. General Crook had taken with him both Captain Sinclair'sinfantry and the troop (or company, as cavalry was also then called) ofthe First.
"A detail of five or six with a reliable non-commissioned officer willdo to remind them it's the United States they're bucking against," saidPaisley. "There's a deal in the moral of these things. Crook--" Paisleybroke off and ran to the door. "Hold his horse!" he called out to theorderly; for he had heard the hoofs, and was out of the house beforeCorporal Jones
had fairly arrived. So Jones sprang off and hurried up,saluting. He delivered his message.
"Um--umpra--what's that? Is it _imperative_ you mean?" suggestedPaisley.
"Yes, sir," said Jones, reforming his pronunciation of that unaccustomedword. "He said it twiced."
"What were they doing?"
"Blamed if I--beg the captain's pardon--they looked like they waswaitin' fer me to git out."
"Go on--go on. How many were there?"
"Seven, sir. There was Governor Ballard and Mr. Hewley and--well, them'sall the names I know. But," Jones hastened on with eagerness, "I've sawthem five other fellows before at a--at--" The corporal's voice failed,and he stood looking at the captain.
"Well? Where?"
"At a cock-fight, sir," murmured Jones, casting his eyes down.
A slight sound came from the room where Tuck was seated, listening, andPaisley's round gray eyes rolled once, then steadied themselvesfiercely upon Jones.
"Did you notice anything further unusual, corporal?"
"No, sir, except they was excited in there. Looked like they might begoin' to hev considerable rough house--a fuss, I mean, sir. Two was intheir socks. I counted four guns on a table."
"Take five men and go at once to the State-House. If the Governor needsassistance you will give it, but do nothing hasty. Stop trouble, andmake none. You've got twenty minutes."
"Captain--if anybody needs arrestin'--"
"You must be judge of that." Paisley went into the house. There was notime for particulars.
"Snakes!" remarked Jones. He jumped on his horse and dashed down theslope to the men's quarters.
"Crook may be here any day or any hour," said Paisley, returning to thedoctor. "With two companies in the background, I think Price's Left Wingwill subside this morning."
"Supposing they don't?"
"I'll go myself; and when it gets to Washington that the commandingofficer at Boise personally interfered with the Legislature of Idaho,it'll shock 'em to that extent that the government will have to pay fora special commission of investigation and two tons of red tape. I've gotto trust to that corporal's good sense. I haven't another man at thepost."
"HIS PLAN WAS TO WALK AND KEEP QUIET"]
Corporal Jones had three-quarters of a mile to go, and it was tenminutes before noon, so he started his five men at a run. His plan wasto walk and look quiet as soon as he reached the town, and thusexcite no curiosity. The citizens were accustomed to the sight ofpassing soldiers. Jones had thought out several things, and he was notgoing to order bayonets fixed until the final necessary moment. "Stoptrouble and make none" was firm in his mind. He had not long been acorporal. It was still his first enlistment. His habits were by nomeans exemplary; and his frontier personality, strongly developed bysix years of vagabonding before he enlisted, was scarcely yetdisciplined into the military machine of the regulation pattern thatit should and must become before he could be counted a model soldier.His captain had promoted him to steady him, if that could be, and togive his better qualities a chance. Since then he had never been drunkat the wrong time. Two years ago it would not have entered hisfree-lance heart to be reticent with any man, high or low, about anypleasure in which he saw fit to indulge; to-day he had been shy overconfessing to the commanding officer his leaning to cock-fights--asign of his approach to the correct mental attitude of the enlistedman. Being corporal had wakened in him a new instinct, and thisState-House affair was the first chance he had had to show himself. Hegave the order to proceed at a walk in such a tone that one of thetroopers whispered to another, "Specimen ain't going to forget he'swearing a chevron."
III
The brief silence that Jones and his invitation to supper had causedamong the Councillors was first broken by F. Jackson Gilet.
"Gentlemen," he said, "as President of the Council I rejoice in aninterruption that has given pause to our haste and saved us fromill-considered expressions of opinion. The Gove'nuh has, I confess,surprised me. Befo' examining the legal aspect of our case I will askthe Gove'nuh if he is familiar with the sundry statutes applicable."
"I think so," Ballard replied, pleasantly.
"I had supposed," continued the President of the Council--"nay, I hadcongratulated myself that our weightiuh tasks of law-making and so fo'thwere consummated yesterday, our thirty-ninth day, and that our friendlygame of last night would be, as it were, the finis that crowned withpleashuh the work of a session memorable for its harmony."
This was not wholly accurate, but near enough. The Governor had vetoedseveral bills, but Price's Left Wing had had much more than the requiredtwo-thirds vote of both Houses to make these bills laws over theGovernor's head. This may be called harmony in a manner. Gilet now wenton to say that any doubts which the Governor entertained concerning thelegality of his paying any salaries could easily be settled withoutentering upon discussion. Discussion at such a juncture could not buttend towards informality. The President of the Council could wellremember most unfortunate discussions in Missouri between the years 1856and 1860, in some of which he had had the honor to take part--_minimapars_, gentlemen! Here he digressed elegantly upon civil dissensions,and Ballard, listening to him and marking the slow, sure progress of thehour, told himself that never before had Gilet's oratory seemed morewelcome or less lengthy. A plan had come to him, the orator nextannounced, a way out of the present dilemma, simple and regular inevery aspect. Let some gentleman present now kindly draft a bill settingforth in its preamble the acts of Congress providing for theLegislature's compensation, and let this bill in conclusion provide thatall members immediately receive the full amount due for their services.At noon both Houses would convene; they would push back the clock, andpass this bill before the term of their session should expire.
"Then, Gove'nuh," said Gilet, "you can amply vindicate yo'self by aveto, which, together with our votes on reconsideration of yohobjections, will be reco'ded in the journal of our proceedings, andcopies transmitted to Washington within thirty days as required by law.Thus, suh, will you become absolved from all responsibility."
The orator's face, while he explained this simple and regular way out ofthe dilemma, beamed with acumen and statesmanship. Here they would makea law, and the Governor must obey the law!
Nothing could have been more to Ballard's mind as he calculated thefleeting minutes than this peaceful, pompous farce. "Draw your bill,gentlemen," he said. "I would not object if I could."
The Statutes of the United States were procured from among the pistolsand opened at the proper page. Gascon Claiborne, upon another sheet ofpaper headed "Territory of Idaho, Council Chamber," set aboutformulating some phrases which began "Whereas," and Gratiot des Peresread aloud to him from the statutes. Ballard conversed apart withHewley; in fact, there was much conversing aside.
"'Third March, 1863, c. 117, s. 8, v. 12, p. 811,'" dictated Des Peres.
"Skip the chaptuhs and sections," said Claiborne. "We only require thedate."
"'Third March, 1863. The sessions of the Legislative Assemblies of theseveral Territories of the United States shall be limited to forty days'duration.'"
"Wise provision that," whispered Ballard. "No telling how long a pokergame might last."
But Hewley could not take anything in this spirit. "Genuine business wasnot got through till yesterday," he said.
"'The members of each branch of the Legislature,'" read Des Peres,"'shall receive a compensation of six dollars per day during thesessions herein provided for, and they shall receive such mileage as nowprovided by law: _Provided_, That the President of the Council and theSpeaker of the House of Representatives shall each receive acompensation of ten dollars a day.'"
At this the President of the Council waved a deprecatory hand to signifythat it was a principle, not profit, for which he battled. They hadcompleted their _Whereases_, incorporating the language of the severalsections as to how the appropriation should be made, who disbursed suchmoney, mileage, and, in short, all things pertinent to their bill, whenPete
Cawthon made a suggestion.
"Ain't there anything 'bout how much the Gove'nuh gits?" he asks.
"And the Secretary?" added Wingo.
"Oh, you can leave us out," said Ballard.
"Pardon me, Gove'nuh," said Gilet. "You stated that yoh difficulty wasnot confined to Mr. Wingo or any individual gentleman, but was general.Does it not apply to yo'self, suh? Do you not need any bill?"
"Oh no," said Ballard, laughing. "I don't need any bill."
"And why not?" said Cawthon. "You've jist ez much earned yoh money ez usfellers."
"Quite as much," said Ballard. "But we're not alike--at present."
Gilet grew very stately. "Except certain differences in politicalopinions, suh, I am not awah of how we differ in merit as publicservants of this Territory."
"The difference is of your own making, Mr. Gilet, and no bill you couldframe would cure it or destroy my responsibility. You cannot make anylaw contrary to a law of the United States."
"Contrary to a law of the United States? And what, suh, has the UnitedStates to say about my pay I have earned in Idaho?"
"Mr. Gilet, there has been but one government in this country sinceApril, 1865, and as friends you and I have often agreed to differ as tohow many there were before then. That government has a law compellingpeople like you and me to go through a formality, which I have done, andyou and your friends have refused to do each time it has been suggestedto you. I have raised no point until now, having my reasons, which weremainly that it would make less trouble now for the Territory of which Ihave been appointed Governor. I am held accountable to the Secretary ofthe Treasury semiannually for the manner in which the appropriation hasbeen expended. If you will kindly hand me that book--"
Gilet, more and more stately, handed Ballard the Statutes, which he hadtaken from Des Peres. The others were watching Ballard with gatheringsullenness, as they had watched Hewley while he was winning Wingo'smoney, only now the sullenness was of a more decided complexion.
Ballard turned the pages. "'Second July, 1862. Every person elected orappointed to any office of honor or profit, either in the civil,military, or naval service, ... shall before entering upon the duties ofsuch office, and before being entitled to any salary or other emolumentsthereof, take and subscribe the following oath: I--'"
"What does this mean, suh?" said Gilet.
"It means there is no difference in our positions as to whatpreliminaries the law requires of us, no matter how we may vary inconvictions. I as Governor have taken the oath of allegiance to theUnited States, and you as Councillor must do the same before you can getyour pay. Look at the book."
"I decline, suh. I repudiate yoh proposition. There is a wide differencein our positions."
"What do you understand it to be, Mr. Gilet?" Ballard's temper wasrising.
"If you have chosen to take an oath that did not go against yohconvictions--"
"Oh, Mr. Gilet!" said Ballard, smiling. "Look at the book." He would notrisk losing his temper through further discussion. He would stick to thelaw as it lay open before them.
But the Northern smile sent Missouri logic to the winds. "In what areyou superior to me, suh, that I cannot choose? Who are you that I andthese gentlemen must take oaths befo' you?"
"Not before me. Look at the book."
"I'll look at no book, suh. Do you mean to tell me you have seen me dayaftuh day and meditated this treacherous attempt?"
"There is no attempt and no treachery, Mr. Gilet. You could have takenthe oath long ago, like other officials. You can take it to-day--or takethe consequences."
"What? You threaten me, suh? Do I understand you to threaten me?Gentlemen of the Council, it seems Idaho will be less free than Missouriunless we look to it." The President of the Council had risen in hisindignant oratorical might, and his more and more restless friendsglared admiration at him. "When was the time that Price's Left Wingsurrendered?" asked the orator. "Nevuh! Others have, be it said to theirshame. We have not toiled these thousand miles fo' that! Others havecrooked the pliant hinges of the knee that thrift might follow fawning.As fo' myself, two grandfathers who fought fo' our libuhties rest in thesoil of Virginia, and two uncles who fought in the Revolution sleep inthe land of the Dark and Bloody Ground. With such blood in my veins Iwill nevuh, nevuh, nevuh submit to Northern rule and dictation. I willrisk all to be with the Southern people, and if defeated I can, with apatriot of old, exclaim,
"'More true joy an exile feels Than Caesuh with a Senate at his heels.'
"Aye, gentlemen! And we will not be defeated! Our rights are here andare ours." He stretched his arm towards the Treasurer's strong-box, andhis enthusiastic audience rose at the rhetoric. "Contain yo'selves,gentlemen," said the orator. "Twelve o'clock and our bill!"
"I've said my say," said Ballard, remaining seated.
"An' what'll ye do?" inquired Pete Cawthon from the agitated group.
"I forbid you to touch that!" shouted Ballard. He saw Wingo movingtowards the box.
"Gentlemen, do not resort--" began Gilet.
But small, iron-gray Hewley snatched his pistol from the box, and satdown astraddle of it, guarding his charge. At this hostile movement theothers precipitated themselves towards the table where lay theirweapons, and Governor Ballard, whipping his own from his armhole, said,as he covered the table: "Go easy, gentlemen! Don't hurt our Treasurer!"
"Don't nobody hurt anybody," said Specimen Jones, opening the door.
This prudent corporal had been looking in at a window and hearingplainly for the past two minutes, and he had his men posted. Each memberof the Council stopped as he stood, his pistol not quite yet attained;Ballard restored his own to its armhole and sat in his chair; littleHewley sat on his box; and F. Jackson Gilet towered haughtily, gazing atthe intruding blue uniform of the United States.
"I'll hev to take you to the commanding officer," said Jones, briefly,to Hewley. "You and yer box."
"Oh, my stars and stripes, but that's a keen move!" rejoiced Ballard tohimself. "He's arresting _us_."
"'DON'T NOBODY HURT ANYBODY,' SAID SPECIMEN JONES"]
In Jones's judgment, after he had taken in the situation, this hadseemed the only possible way to stop trouble without making any, andtherefore, even now, bayonets were not fixed. Best not ruffle Price'sLeft Wing just now, if you could avoid it. For a new corporal it waswell thought and done. But it was high noon, the clock not pushedback, and punctual Representatives strolling innocently towards theirexpected pay. There must be no time for a gathering and possiblereaction. "I'll hev to clear this State-House out," Jones decided."We're makin' an arrest," he said, aloud, "and we want a little room."The outside bystanders stood back obediently, but the Councillorsdelayed. Their pistols were, with Ballard's and Hewley's, of course incustody. "Here," said Jones, restoring them. "Go home now. Thecommanding officer's waitin' fer the prisoner. Put yer boots on, sir,and leave," he added to Pete Cawthon, who still stood in hisstockings. "I don't want to hev to disperse anybody more'n what I'vedone."
Disconcerted Price's Left Wing now saw file out between armed soldiersthe Treasurer and his strong-box; and thus guarded they were brought toBoise Barracks, whence they did not reappear. The Governor also went tothe post.
After delivering Hewley and his treasure to the commanding officer,Jones with his five troopers went to the sutler's store and took a drinkat Jones's expense. Then one of them asked the corporal to have another.But Jones refused. "If a man drinks much of that," said he (and thewhiskey certainly was of a livid, unlikely flavor), "he's liable to gohome and steal his own pants." He walked away to his quarters, and as hewent they heard him thoughtfully humming his most inveterate song, "Yeshepherds tell me have you seen my Flora pass this way."
But poisonous whiskey was not the inner reason for his moderation. Hefelt very much like a responsible corporal to-day, and the troopers knewit. "Jones has done himself a good turn in this fuss," they said. "He'llbe changing his chevron."
That afternoon the Legislature sa
t in the State-House and read toitself in the Statutes all about oaths. It is not believed that any ofthem sat up another night; sleeping on a problem is often much better.Next morning the commanding officer and Governor Ballard were calledupon by F. Jackson Gilet and the Speaker of the House. Every one wascivil and hearty as possible. Gilet pronounced the captain's whiskey"equal to any at the Southern, Saint Louey," and conversed for some timeabout the cold season, General Crook's remarkable astuteness in dealingwith Indians, and other topics of public interest. "And concernin' yohdifficulty yesterday, Gove'nuh," said he, "I've been consulting thelaws, suh, and I perceive yoh construction is entahley correct."
And so the Legislature signed that form of oath prescribed forparticipants in the late Rebellion, and Hewley did not have to wait forhis poker money. He and Wingo played many subsequent games; for, as theyall said in referring to the matter, "A little thing like that shouldnevuh stand between friends."
Thus was accomplished by Ballard, Paisley--and Jones--the SecondMissouri Compromise, at Boise City, Idaho, 1867--an eccentric moment inthe eccentric years of our development westward, and historic also. Thatit has gone unrecorded until now is because of Ballard's modesty,Paisley's preference for the sword, and Jones's hatred of the pen. Hewas never known to write except, later, in the pages of his companyroster and such unavoidable official places; for the troopers wereprophetic. In not many months there was no longer a Corporal Jones, buta person widely known as Sergeant Jones of Company A; called also the"Singing Sergeant"; but still familiar to his intimate friends as"Specimen."