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.