CHAPTER XXXII.--_A False Friend Sent to Deceive the Southerners._
"Great men are the Fire Pillars in this dark pilgrimage of mankind; theystand as heavenly signs, ever living witnesses of what has been,prophetic tokens of what may still be--the revealed embodiedPossibilities of human nature," says Carlyle.
If conspicuousness or notoriety could mean greatness, we have our _greatmen_ in California. But are they the Fire Pillars in our darkpilgrimage? Verily, no. They are upas trees, blighting life, spreadingdesolation, ruin, death upon all they overshadow. Only the cruelistirony could designate them as _heavenly signs_, for surely they marchbefore us in the opposite direction from that in which heavenly FirePillars would be expected to stand.
And who are the most conspicuous in our State? The _monied men, ofcourse_--the monopolists. They are our _Fire Pillars_! UnfortunateCalifornia! if thou art to follow such guides, thy fate shall be to_grovel for money_ to the end of time, with not one thought beyond, orabove, money-making, and not one aspiration higher than to accumulatemillions greedily for rapacity's sake--without once remembering themisery that such rapacity has brought upon so many innocent people--theblight it has spread over so many lives. Thy ambition shall be tocontrol the judiciary and utterly debauch the legislative branch of ourGovernment; to contaminate the public press and private individual untilthy children shall have lost all belief in honor, and justice, and goodfaith, and morality. Until honesty shall be made ridiculous andsuccessful corruption shall be held up for admiration and praise.
And are not _our_ "Fire Pillars" dragging us already in that direction?blinding us instead of guiding and enlightening? Yes, alluring,tempting, making rapacity and ill-gotten wealth appear justifiable, seenthrough the seductive glamour of Success!
The letter Mr. James Mechlin received one morning about the latter partof November, 1875, would seem so to indicate. He and Mr. Holman metoften at the postoffice each winter since 1872, always hoping to getrailroad news from Washington. These two gentlemen religiously went tothe postoffice every day again this winter--particularly since theMechlins had taken their temporary residence in town--and religiouslythey expected that _good news_ would come at any time while Congress wasin session--news that a bill to aid in the construction of the TexasPacific Railroad had been passed. But days and days went by and no newscame. This morning, however, Mr. Mechlin received two letters from hisbrother, the first he had got since he brought the wounded George totown.
One of these letters said that early in that month (November) Mr. C. C.had taken east from California in his special car ex-Senator Guller, forthe purpose of being sent South _to persuade_ the Southern people intobelieving that the Texas Pacific Railroad would be injurious to theSouth; that it was being built for the benefit of Northern interests,but that _the Southern Pacific_, of Mr. Huntington and associates, wastruly the road for the South. Mr. Huntington instructed Senator Gullerin all the fictions he was to spread in the South, and with that burdenon his soul (if the old man has one), the hoary headed ex-Senatorstarted from Washington about the 12th of November, 1875, on this errandto deceive, to betray. To betray cruelly, hiding under the cloak offriendship and good will, the worst, blackest, most perfidious intent."He is going about the South making public speeches," Mr. Mechlin said,"and using his influence to mislead Southern newspapers and Southerninfluential men; trying to convince all that the Texas Pacific will dothe South great harm. The Southern people and Southern Press have falleninto the trap. They never doubted, never could doubt, the veracity ofex-Senator Guller, who had espoused their cause during the war of therebellion, and had always held Southern sentiments. Who could believethat now, _for money_, he would go to deceive trusting friends? That,_for money_, he would cruelly mislead Southerners to their ruin? Whowould believe that this old man, calling himself a friend, was theveriest, worst, most malignant Mephistopheles, holding in the heart sowicked a purpose, such an infamous design?"
In the second letter Mr. Lawrence Mechlin spoke of ex-Senator Gullerbeing still at work in the South, and that his patron, Mr. Huntington,seemed to think that the old man was not telling as many fictions as he(Huntington) wished. But that what more false statements he desired, itdid not appear, for in reality Dr. Guller had prevaricated andmisrepresented all that he could within the limits of possiblecredibility.
"And now," Mr. Mechlin's letter added, "old man Guller will soon returnfrom his Southern trip. Let us hope that the old man will be well paidfor his unsavory work. I cannot believe that in making his publicspeeches he does not occasionally feel a pang of regret, of remorse,when seeing the faces of those unfortunate, betrayed Southernersupturned to him, listening in the sincerity of their hearts to theatrocious concoctions which he is pouring upon their unsuspectingheads."
Mr. James Mechlin read to Mr. Holman this portion of his brother'sletter, and both looked at each other in dismay.
"Come with me," said Mr. Mechlin. "Let us go and talk with George aboutthis." When they had walked in silence a few minutes, Mr. Mechlin turnedsuddenly around and said:
"I have an idea. Let us (you, Don Mariano, and myself) go to seeGovernor Stanford and find out from him directly whether they reallymean to kill the Texas Pacific, or whether those tricks of Huntingtonare intended only as a ruse to bring Tom Scott to terms."
"But would Stanford tell us?"
"Whether he does or not, by talking with him we will find out thetruth."
"I don't think the sending of Guller to the South can be a ruse only; itmust have cost them money."
"True. You are right," said Mr. Mechlin, sadly, resuming his walk. "Andit proves conclusively that these men of the Central Pacific Railroadwill stop at nothing to obtain their end; and yet, I have always thoughtso well of Governor Stanford that I am unwilling to believe he is aparty to any trickery of Huntington's."
On arriving home, Mr. Mechlin, followed by Mr. Holman, went directlyinto George's room to lay before him his idea of interviewing GovernorStanford. After listening attentively, George said:
"I have not the slightest doubt that the railroad men of the CentralPacific wish to establish an iron-bound monopoly on the Pacific slope,to grasp all the carrying business of the entire coast, and to effectthat, they will do anything to kill the Texas Pacific, or any other roadthat might compete with them. Still, as you are going to San Franciscoto escort Lizzie, you can then, for your own satisfaction, have a talkwith Governor Stanford, and Mr. Holman and Don Mariano can join you."
"Yes, after I see him, I shall know the truth whether he tells it to meor I see it myself," said Mr. Mechlin.
"Well, I shall join you at any time. Let us go to see Don Marianoto-morrow and find out when he thinks he will be well enough to travel,"said Mr. Holman.
"Very well; I shall call for you about nine A.M.," said Mr. Mechlin. Mr.Holman then arose, and, saying he wished to speak with the ladies andtry to forget railroads, went into the parlor. Mr. Mechlin followed him,saying to George as he was leaving the room:
"Here is a lot of letters and papers that came this morning which I wasalmost forgetting to give to you."
Among the various letters of less interest to George, there was one fromhis uncle, one from Bob Gunther and (would he believe his eyes!) onefrom Clarence! The sight of that writing made George start, and heimmediately thought of the effect it would have on Mercedes. He hastilytore open the envelope and found four letters besides the one forhimself. One was for Don Mariano, one for Gabriel, one for Tano, and onefor Mercedes. "The noble fellow forgets no one," said George, beginningto read his letter, and thinking it was best not to give to Mercedeshers until all the visitors had left, was soon absorbed in what Clarencesaid. Knowing that all would repeat the contents of his letters to oneanother, Clarence related to each different incidents of his travels,leaving for Mercedes alone the recital of his heart's longings, andsufferings, and fears, and hopes. To George he related his travels inthe interior of Mexico, speaking with great enthusiasm of thetranscendent beauty, the sublimity of the scene
ry in that marvelouscountry. He had passed several weeks in the Sierra Madre, had ascendedto the summits of Popocatepetl and Orizaba, viewing from the snow-cladapex of this last named mountain, at an elevation of more than threemiles above the sea level, a vast panorama of the entire Mexico,bordered on each side by the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. Clarence alsospoke in highest terms of praise of the delta of the Sumasinta River,and beautiful scenery of the Rio Verde and Rio Lerma, and Chapala Lake,so large and picturesque that it looks like an ocean set apart by thejealous gods so that men may not defile its beauty and break its silencewith the hurry scurry of commercial traffic. Clarence dwelt, also, uponhis visit to Yucatan, where he went more especially to see the ruins ofUrmal. Those ruins which are the irrefragable witnesses of a pastcivilization, lost so entirely that archaeology cannot say one wordabout its birth or death. Clarence found those ruins intenselyinteresting, and would have spent much longer time than the month hepassed there, examining, studying and admiring them, had his travelingcompanions been willing to remain longer, but they were anxious to visitthe City of Mexico, and so he was obliged to leave those majestic ruinswhose silence spoke to him so eloquently. They seemed to him symbolicalof his ruined hopes, his great love, in fact, himself. Was he not likethose crumbling edifices--a sad ruin of lofty aspirations? PoorClarence, his sad heart was only made sadder when, upon his arrival atthe City of Mexico, he found no letters there. He inquired at theAmerican Legation whether any letters had come for him, and was told bythe Secretary that _no letters_, but one package, only one, had beenreceived, which had been kept for six months, at the end of which timeMr. Hubert Haverly had written saying that if Mr. Darrell did not callfor the package soon, to return it to him (Haverly) at San Francisco.This had been done about two weeks previously. On hearing this, Clarencesat down, wrote letters to all his friends, and then started for SouthAmerica, intending to cross that continent and embark at Brazil forEurope. His letter to Mercedes he ended with these words.
"I do not blame you for renouncing me, for it must be repugnant to youto unite yourself with one who has such rough blood in his veins. But,Oh! Mercedes, can you not pity me enough to say one kind word? What haveI done to deserve being the miserable outcast that I am?"
Mercedes was in despair. Where could all their letters be? Why did henot get them? He wrote to his mother, to Everett and Alice, and to themhe made the same complaint, and yet, all had written to him repeatedly.
Mr. Mechlin, accompanied by Mr. Holman, arrived at the rancho aboutluncheon hour. Their drive had given them a good appetite and theyenjoyed their repast. After it, they all adjourned to the parlor todiscuss, by the fire, their intended visit to San Francisco. Don Marianowould have preferred to sit out doors on one of the verandas, but DonaJosefa reminded him that a whole year had passed since he was overtakenby that disastrous snow-storm, and he had not yet regained his usualhealth; neither had Victoriano. The injury to his health seemed evengreater and more difficult to remedy, for every two or three months hehad attacks more or less serious of the same lameness which deprived himof the use of his limbs.
As for the cattle, the poor, dumb brutes who had never seen snow, theybecame so frightened at the sight of that white pall, envelopingeverything, that they were absolutely unmanageable after Don Mariano hadgone in advance with Victoriano, and the _mayordomo_ thought they wouldwait until the storm had passed. Next day the _mayordomo_ went about inhopes of finding such stray animals as might have ran less wildly, butnone were to be seen, excepting those which lay stiff in death under thesnow.
The loss of his cattle made it more imperative that Don Mariano shouldlook closely into land matters, into the prospects of a railroad for SanDiego. He therefore listened attentively to what his friends said aboutMr. Lawrence Mechlin having written, and their proposed visit of inquiryto ex-Governor Stanford as to what might be the fate of San Diego'srailroad.
"It seems to me incredible that Doctor Guller should have lent himselffor such service, no matter how well paid," said Don Mariano. "If he hadbeen sent to deceive the North, to fool the Yankees, the errand wouldhave been--if not more honorable--at least less odious for a Southerner,not so treacherous; but to go and deceive the trusting South, now whenthe entire country is so impoverished, so distressed, that act, I say,is inhuman, is ignominious. No words of reprobation can be too severe tostigmatize a man capable of being so heartless."
"Truly, but the instigators are as much to blame as the tool they used.They should be stigmatized also as corrupters, as most malignant,debasing, unscrupulous men," said Mr. Holman. "Men who are harmful tosociety, because they reward dishonorable acts; because they reward,with money, the blackest treason!"
"Can it be possible that Governor Stanford had any knowledge that hisassociate was sending Doctor Guller on that disgraceful errand?" DonMariano queried.
"It looks like it, but let us hope he did not," Mr. Holman replied.
"Yes, let us hope also that Mr. Lawrence Mechlin was misinformed, andDoctor Guller has not been guilty of anything so atrocious," the Donsaid.
It was finally decided that the three friends would go to San Franciscoat the same time that Lizzie would be going. She had made a flying visitto her family at San Diego, and Gabriel was calling loudly for her toreturn, saying that after banking hours he felt lonely and missed herdreadfully.
Lizzie, therefore, had three gentlemen for her escort, and in a few daysthey all steamed away for the city of the sand dunes.
The first day in the city Don Mariano devoted to raising a sum of moneyby a mortgage on his rancho, as he needed the money to pay taxes on theland occupied by the squatters; but the day after, the three friendspresented themselves at the railroad office and inquired for GovernorStanford. They were told that he had just left the office, but that hewould be there on the following day. As they were leaving the office,they met a Mr. Perin, a friend whom they had not seen for some time.When they had exchanged greetings, Mr. Perin asked them if they had cometo see Governor Stanford. On being told that such was the case, he said:
"It is well that you did not see him, for he is not in a very good humorto-day, and as for Mr. C., he is like a bear with a sore head--furiousat Tom Scott."
"What is the matter? What has Tom Scott done to anger his persecutors?"asked Mr. Holman.
"It seems they need money and can't raise as much as they want, whileHuntington keeps clamoring for more to kill Tom Scott together with theTexas Pacific," was the answer.
"The earnings of the Central Pacific this last year were seventeenmillions of dollars. How are they in such need of money? Is not thatenough to kill Colonel Scott?" Mr. Mechlin asked. "Why do they wantmore?"
"Because, if their earnings had been seventy millions, these men wouldstill be in need of money," Mr. Perin said.
"Why so?"
"Because, as they wish to absorb all the carrying business of thiscoast--in fact, all sorts of business--they want money, money, money.They want to buy steamboats, ferry-boats, ocean steamers; streetrailroads and street cars; coal mines and farms; in fact, they wanteverything, and want it more when some poor devil loses his businessthereby and goes, frozen out, into the cold world. So you see, to gointo such a variety of business besides railroading and killing TomScott, it costs money. It takes millions and millions to kill and freezeout so many people."
"I hope they'll be disappointed in killing Colonel Scott," said DonMariano. "That would mean death to many others."
"I hope so, too, but I hear that Mr. Huntington devoutly prays that akind Providence may enable him '_to see grass growing over Tom Scott_,'"Mr. Perin replied.
"Yes, my brother wrote me that Huntington does say that he hopes toworry Scott to death, and '_see grass growing over his grave_.' I fearhe will see grass growing over many graves if he succeeds in killing theTexas Pacific," said Mr. Mechlin.
"He is trying hard to do that, and his associates are backing him upwith millions," Mr. Perin said.
"Then Heaven help us poor people who have invested our a
ll, believingthat San Diego would have a railroad," said Mr. Mechlin, bitterly.
Next morning the three friends went again to the railroad office andsent their cards to Governor Stanford. In a few minutes the servantreturned to say that the Governor was very busy, but if the gentlemencould wait he would see them as soon as possible. The gentlemen waited;they read the morning papers and looked over railroad guides to whileaway time.
Yes, they waited, but they would have spared themselves that trouble,and they would have never made that pilgrimage from San Diego to consultthe oracle at San Francisco, could they have read what Mr. Huntingtonwas about that time writing to his _associates_ concerning his _modusoperandi_ in Washington to "_convince_" Congressmen to do as he wished,to defeat the Texas Pacific; writing all about sending an ex-Senator to"_switch off the South_," and there to pretend to be an anti-subsidyDemocrat, and to state falsely that the Texas Pacific would injure theSouth. All this, however, was only known lately, when Mr. Huntington'sletters were made public. At that time the three friends, thinking itimpossible that the rights of Southern California would be so utterlydisregarded, did not see any absurdity in interviewing the Governor.
While they waited they had an opportunity of hearing several instructivematters freely mentioned. One of these was the way of avoiding thepayment of taxes, and how to fight the cases in the courts. Thegentlemen who discussed the subject evidently understood it and werewaiting to have an audience. Their talk suggested a very sad train ofthoughts to Don Mariano, as he heard that the railroad people did notmean to pay taxes, and would resist the law. He thought how thosemillionaires would pay no taxes, and defy the law openly and fight tothe bitter end, whilst he was not only obliged to pay taxes upon a toohighly appraised property, but must also pay taxes for the land occupiedby the squatter and on the improvements thereon! As a necessary sequenceto such unjust, unreasonable, inhuman taxation, Don Mariano had beenobliged to mortgage his rancho to raise funds to pay the taxes of thesquatters. With the yearly sales of his cattle he had always been ableto pay his own taxes as well as those of his unwelcome neighbors, but ashis cattle were now lost, his only resource was his land. Not yet havingthe patent, he could not sell to advantage at all. He must thereforemortgage.
"If I were a railroad prince, I suppose I would not be forced to paytaxes for the squatters on my land," said Don Mariano to his friends,smiling sadly to hear how the taxes on railroad property were to befought.
"If you were a railroad prince, you would not pay your own taxes, muchless those of the squatters," said Mr. Holman.
"I think you ought not to hesitate to use the money that Clarence paidfor your cattle. If they ran away, it was not your fault," Mr. Mechlinsaid.
"No, not my fault, but my misfortune; a misfortune which I have no rightto put on Clarence's shoulders. I did not deliver the cattle; I don'ttake the pay. I am going to mortgage my land, but I can't avoid it," DonMariano replied.
"It is certainly a very hard case to have to mortgage your property topay taxes for the squatters," observed Mr. Holman.
"If these railroad men will only let us have the Texas Pacific all willbe right, but if not, then the work of ruining me begun by the squatterswill be finished by the millionaires--if they kill our railroad," saidDon Mariano sadly, adding: "Our legislators then will complete theirwork. Our legislators began my ruin; our legislators will end it."