If those kind eyes of the Goddess of Justice were not bandaged, but she
could see how her pure white robes have been begrimed and soiled in San
Diego, and how her lofty dignity is thus lowered to the dust, she would
no doubt feel affronted and aggrieved. And if she is so irreverently
maltreated, can she afford any protection to those who must rely on her
alone, having no riches to maintain protracted litigation or carry their
plaints to higher tribunals? To the moneyless laity Justice thus defiled
seems as helpless as themselves. She is powerless to accomplish her
mission upon earth whenever a Judge, through weakness or design, may
choose to disregard her dictates. At present the dignity of a Judge's
personality is more sacred than the abstract impersonality of justice.
Because the accepted theory being that Judges are always just and
incorruptible (and generally the supposition is correct), there is a
broad shelter for a Judge who may be neither just nor impartial. What
mockery of justice it is in our fair land of freedom to say that a bad
Judge can be impeached when impeachment is so hedged with difficulties
as to be impossible--utterly ineffectual to protect the poor, victimized
laity! Who is the poor litigant that would dare arraign an unjust Judge,
well sheltered in his judicial ermine, and the entire profession ready
to champion him? "_Libel_" would be the cry against any one who would
dare hold the mirror for such Judge to see himself! Ah, yes, when the
real libel is to distort the law and degrade the mission of justice on
earth!
Peter Roper, knowing well with what impunity he could violate justice
and decency, conceived the brilliant idea of taking the Mechlin house at
Alamar, now that the family were sojourning in town. Peter did not like
to divide the spoils, but as accomplices were absolutely necessary,
there was no alternative but to take his friend and client Gasbang into
the plot.
On a Sunday evening Peter proceeded to unfold his plan before John, who
had come from his farm to attend church and was attired in a white vest
and black coat, having just come from evening service. For, as I have
said before, John Gasbang was a pillar of the church now, and never
failed in his attendance every Sunday. People knew that in old times,
when John was very poor, he used to play "_monte_" with the Indians and
cheat them out of their money. Many times he had been known to spend
almost the entire night sitting cross-legged on a blanket with a tallow
candle set in a bottle to light his high-toned game, surrounded by the
select company of naked Indians, who were too fascinated to see how
plainly John was robbing them. Pitilessly would John strip his
unsophisticated tattooed comrades of everything they owned on this
earth. Their reed baskets, bows and arrows, strings of beads, tufts of
feather-tips, or any other rustic and barbaric ornaments. All, all, John
would gather up with his skillfully shuffled cards. The spoils he thus
collected he would sell to other Indians from whom he would presently
gather in (like the good Sexton he was), gather in, with high-toned and
highly skillful shuffling. But John now was a rich man. Kindly San Diego
had forgiven John's petty thieving. The money won from the poor Indians
had helped him to thrive, and consequently convinced him that, after
all, cheating was no worse than other sins, the gravity of which
entirely depended upon the trick of hiding them. He would now try to
hide his humble, predatory gambling, he said to himself, and seem
respectable.
Yes, he would wear a white vest and try to look honest, but on hearing
Roper's project, his dull, fishy eyes revolved quickly in their little
sockets, and his square jaws expanded like those of a snake before it
shakes its rattle and coils up to spring. His mouth watered in
anticipation of the sweets of ill-gotten gain as he listened attentively
to all that Roper had to say.
"I'll see Hogsden the first thing in the morning," said he, joyously.
"But wait. Can you trust him?"
"Trust him? I should say I could, and if he weakens, there is his wife
to brace him up with her good advice. He owes a big sum of money to old
Mechlin; so old Hoggy will be only too glad to get even by jumping the
house. I suppose our friend, the Judge, is with us."
"Don't be silly. Do you suppose I would do a thing of this kind if I
wasn't sure of him? He won't fail me. He'll do as I say. Be sure of
that, and don't talk. Come to my house now and I'll draw up the
conveyance. Hog. must sign his quit-claim deed, and then I'll see that
his location of one hundred and sixty acres is properly filed. But,
mind, if Hogsden betrays us, he'll spoil our game," observed Roper.
"Leave that to me," said John, rubbing his hands and giving his vest a
downward pull.
The result of this dialogue was that Hogsden quit-claimed all his,
"right, title and interest in a certain parcel of land, etc., etc., with
a dwelling house and other improvements, etc., etc.," and the
description of the property might have applied to a hundred others in
the county. This transaction accomplished and recorded, they took the
furniture that had been left in the house by the Mechlins and put it
temporarily in the barn; Mrs. Hogsden taking only such articles as she
wished to keep. She stole them brazenly, saying she had bought them.
It was further agreed that they would work the farm in partnership,
dividing profits equally, and a contract in writing to this effect was
signed by them.
Roper now being a property holder, besides being so influential with
_the_ Judge, thought he could soar to higher altitudes. By the
assistance of Gasbang and a few others, whom he said belonged to his
_gang_, he managed to get himself nominated for Representative to
Congress. Bursting with pride, puny Peter started on his way to glory,
to _stump_ his district. He would begin at San Bernardino and carry the
county by storm, with the force of his eloquence and personal magnetism,
he said, with characteristic modesty.
He made speeches at San Pascual, and Poway, and San Bernardo, and Bear
Valley, and Julian, but his greatest effort, the achievement that would
crown his brow with laurels, that effort he reserved for Los Angeles.
Quite a big crowd was marshaled to hear him. He had paid a good deal of
money in advertisements so as to collect an audience. He succeeded; a
crowd was there ready to make up in quantity what it lacked in quality.
Roper came forward. His face was red as usual, but he seemed sober--he
stood straight. He was as loquacious as ever, of course, and talked
incessantly for quite a while, making the crowd laugh. After he had all
his audience in a laughing mood with his coarse anecdotes and broad
jokes, he thought he would capture their votes beyond a doubt if he then
and there proved himself--by his own admissions--to be _low_, the lowest
of the lowly--so very low, so very disreputable, that no one could be
lower.
"You cannot doubt," said Peter, "that my sympathies as well as my
interests, are with you, the working people, the poor who must work or
starve. I have nothing in common with bloated bondholders or pampered
monopolists who have enriched themselves with the earnings of the poor.
I don't know how I came to be a lawyer. I suppose it happened because I
don't like to work. I would rather talk and let others work. [Laughter.]
I am a child of the people, and _for_ the people--the poor people I
mean. My mother was a cook, a poor cook--poor in pocket I mean. Her
cookery may have been rich [laughter], but upon that point I couldn't
enlighten you, for I have forgotten the flavor of her dishes. But she
was a cook by profession, just as I am a lawyer by profession, and one
is as good as the other. [Laughter.] As for my father, of him I know
nothing to speak of--literally--[laughter], so the less said on that
head, the sooner mended; for if the fact of my being here goes to prove
_to you_ that I had a father, that is all the proof _I_ ever had
myself."
Here Peter laughed, but he laughed alone. He thought that a burst of
laughter and applause would follow this last shameless, revolting
admission, but not a sound was heard. He had overstepped the bounds of
decency so far, that even such a crowd as made his audience was silent
as if unanimous disgust was beyond utterance. Roper was evidently
disconcerted.
"We don't want to be represented in Washington by a fellow who exults in
degradation and has no respect for the memory of his mother," said a
loud voice, and the crowd began to disperse.
Soon Peter's native impudence came to his aid and he tried to recommence
his discourse. "Look here," he cried, "where are you going? You ain't
going to send my mother to Congress! Did you think I came to ask you to
vote for her?" He went on in this coarse, bantering style which had
taken so well at first, but in vain. Nobody wanted to hear him now. It
seemed as if the ghost of the poor reviled cook had come, like that of
Banquo, to frighten off the audience. In a few minutes only about half a
dozen of his supporters had been left, and they remained to scold.
"Well," said one, looking back at the receding crowd, "that cake is all
dough, Peter. I hope your mother would have made a better job of it."
"A delightful dough," said another; "and his goose is well cooked. I
say, Peter, you cooked your goose brown, browner than your mother ever
cooked hers, and I bet on it."
Peter answered with an oath.
"The worst of it is, that in cooking your goose, you burnt ours to a
cinder. We haven't the ghost of a chance now, and the Republican
candidate will have a walk-over to Congress," said a third supporter.
Alas for human delusions! This fiasco was the crowning glory of Roper's
political campaign. Like the celebrated ambitious toad which cracked its
sides by the force of its own inflation, Peter came to grief,
ignominious grief; that is to say, it would have been ignominious to any
one not thoroughly inoculated with disgrace as he, _according to his own
version_, must have been from the day of his birth.
"Let me ask you a question, Roper," said a fourth friend. "Why did you
bring out such a thing against your mother? It was your misfortune as
long as you kept quiet about it, but now it is your shame. What was the
good of telling against your own mother? Don't you know that people,
even the humblest, must censure and despise you for it? Few, very few
decent men, like to have anything to do with a man who reviles his dead
mother, no matter if she was a poor cook. What pleasure can you find in
proclaiming your shame?"
Roper laughed loud and derisively, saying:
"What will you bet that I'll have just as good and just as many friends
in San Diego as I ever had before?"
"Do you mean to say that the people of San Diego _approve_ of language
such as you used to-night? Approve your conduct?"
"Never mind about that, only will you take my bet?"
The henchman shrugged his shoulders and walked off, but if he had taken
that bet, he would have lost.
When Colonel Hornblower received the news of Roper's fiasco, it occurred
to him that he would take a trip to Europe. He had now made money enough
out of the troubles and distress he and Roper brought upon others, to
indulge in that luxury, the pleasure of saying he had been to Europe.
"My dear," said the Colonel to his wife, "I think now is the best time
to take that trip to Europe we have had in our hearts for so long. Get
ready; let us go."
"What has happened?" Mrs. Colonel Hornblower asked.
"Nothing, except that that partner of mine made a fiasco of his
political campaign," and the Colonel related to his swarthy lady Roper's
speech, and how it was received.
"How absurd! so unnecessary!" she exclaimed.
"Perfectly, but you see, for a man of _my_ dignity the thing is awkward.
What will the town say of _me_, *ME*?"
"The town will say nothing. As long as Roper has the friendship of Judge
Lawlack he can have clients; and as long as he has clients the San Diego
people will be indulgent to him, no matter how debased he says he is.
However, drop him, and let's go to Europe. I wish we could get letters
to distinguished people abroad."
"What for? Our American ministers can present us to the best society,
and besides, I am sure I am well known abroad. My name--the name of
Colonel Hornblower--must be as familiar to Europeans as the names of
other distinguished Americans. I am the most prominent man in San Diego.
All the world knows San Diego, all the world must know Colonel
Hornblower."
"Still, I would like to get letters."
"Not at all necessary, I assure you. I'll tell our minister in England
that Mrs. Colonel Hornblower wishes to be presented to Queen Victoria,
and he'll present you. The Queen, no doubt, will wish to make our
acquaintance."
"I would like to see other royal people. I would like to see the Pope,
also."
"You shall see as many princes and princesses as you like. We Americans
are princes, all of us. We are the equals of princes. As for the Pope, I
would not take one step to make his acquaintance, unless he met me half
way; but if you like to see him, we'll get an introduction easily.
Perhaps he might invite us to dinner. If he does, I hope it won't be on
Friday, as fish don't agree with me."
"Does he ever invite people to dinner?"
"Distinguished people, of course."
The Hornblowers sailed for Europe before Roper returned from his
stumping tour. He was detained at Los Angeles, where he had been beaten
so badly in a bar-room brawl that he was obliged to keep in bed for
several days. The Colonel then wisely slipped off for Europe, to hob-nob
with royal people and take dinner with the Pope, perhaps.
Mrs. Hornblower conjectured rightly. Roper's disgrace was condoned by
San Diego, because he was under the patronage of Judge Lawlack, and in
San Diego everybody has a law suit.
But has the Judge no moral responsibility in this? _Has he the right to
impose upon the community_ a man so self-debased and noxious? If the
Judge were to withdraw his support Peter would collapse like a pricked
gas-bag, to be swept off into the gutter. But the Judge is the genii,
"_the Slave of the Ring_" and his power keeps the little gas-bag afloat,
soaring as high as it is in the nature of little gas-bags to soar. The
Judge keeping in his hand the check-string, kindly preventing him from
going to destruction.
With characteristic coarseness, amounting to inhumanity, Peter Roper and
Gasbang decided to throw down their masks, and reveal their fraud in
"_jumping_" Mr. Mechlin's house. They came to this decision about ten
days after Mr. Mechlin's death.
Gabriel had returned that same day from San Francisco, where he had
accompanied the remains of his father-in-law, and deposited them in a
vault to await until Mrs. Mechlin should be able to travel, when she,
with all the family, would go East.
Mr. Lawrence Mechlin had also arrived. He started from New York on the
day of his brother's death, two hours after receiving George's telegram
conveying the terrible news. He reached San Francisco on the night
before the steamer for San Diego sailed. Thus he and George came
together.
The Deputy Sheriff presented himself to announce to Mrs. Mechlin that
her furniture left at her country house had been taken out by order of
Peter Roper, and put on the road about two miles from the house. As Mrs.
Mechlin was too ill to see any one, excepting the members of her family,
the Sheriff made his statement to George, in the presence of his uncle
and Gabriel, just arrived.
The proceedings seemed so atrocious that at first no one could
understand the Sheriff.
"Do you mean to say that Peter Roper claims to own our house, and
because he is the owner, has taken out the furniture and left it lying
on the road?" asked George.
"Yes; that's what I was told to say," the Sheriff replied.
"But why? How is he the owner of our house?"
"Because he and Gasbang bought it from Hogsden, who located a claim
there after you abandoned the place."
The trick was infamous. George and Gabriel saw through it. There was
nothing to do but to bring a suit in ejectment to get rid of them, but
in the meantime they would hold possession (perhaps for years), and that
was what they wanted, to get the property into litigation.
Gabriel went to state the matter to the lawyer who had attended to Mr.
Mechlin's law business, and he corroborated their opinion, that there
was no other course to pursue but to file a complaint in ejectment to
dispossess the thieves.
"Is there no quicker way to obtain redress?" George asked.
"No, sir," the lawyer answered; "as the deed is done by Peter Roper and
John Gasbang, the Judge will decide in their favor, and you will have to
appeal."
"But this is atrocious," Mr. Lawrence Mechlin said; "Do you mean to say
that people's houses can be taken like that in this country?"
"Not generally; but Peter Roper might, if there is the ghost of a
pretext, and if there is a dishonest servant, like Hogsden, left in
charge, who will steal and help to steal; then, you see, the thing is
easy enough, as long as the Judge befriends trespassers. But the Supreme
Court will put things to right again. That is to say, if the Judge's
findings are not a string of falsehoods which will utterly mislead the
Supreme Court."
This property, Mr. Mechlin had repeatedly said, he intended should be a
homestead for his wife, so the suit in ejectment was brought in her
name. She at the same time filing a petition for a homestead before the
Probate Court, and asking that Gabriel Alamar be appointed administrator
of her husband's estate.
All this would, of course, involve the property in tedious legal
proceedings, there being the probate matters, beside the suit in
ejectment to litigate in the District Court. The attorney employed in
the case advised George to have a deed executed by Dona Josefa,
conveying the property to Mrs. Mechlin, as it had been agreed before the
death of their husbands that it should be done. Dona Josefa cheerfully
assented, remembering that Don Mariano had said to her:
"If I should die before I get my land patented, the first thing you must
do is to make a conveyance of his place to Mr. Mechlin."
The shock caused by his father's death when that of Don Mariano was yet
so recent, acted most injuriously upon George's health. It made him
feverish, inflaming his wound again very painfully, as the ball had
never been extracted; now it chafed the wound, and gave him as much pain
as before.
Mrs. Mechlin, Dona Josefa and Mercedes were also in their beds,
suffering with nervous prostration and night fevers. It seemed
impossible that people could be more bereaved and disheartened than
these ladies, and yet exist. Mr. Lawrence Mechlin saw that George must
have skillful medical attendance without delay, and wanted his own
doctor to take him under his care. So he and Gabriel arranged all
business and other matters in order that George should go East. It was
heart-rending to Elvira--the mere thought of leaving her mother and
sister sick, and all the family in such distress--but she must go with
her husband. Gabriel would attend to the lawsuits. He had powers of
attorney from George and Mrs. Mechlin, and was the administrator.
The answer to Mrs. Mechlin's complaint was a masterpiece of unblushing
effrontery that plainly showed it had originated in a brain where brazen
falsehoods and other indecencies thrived like water-reptiles growing
huge and luxuriating in slimy swamps. The characteristic document ran in
the following manner:
_In the District Court of the ---- of the County of San Diego,
State of California._
_Beatrice Mechlin_, _Plaintiff_,
_v._
_Peter Roper_, _John Gasbang_, and _Charles Hogsden_,
_Defendants_.
And now come the defendants, Peter Roper, John Gasbang and
Charles Hogsden, and for answer to plaintiff's complaint, on
file herein, they and each of them say:
That they deny that in the year of 1873, or at any other time before or
after that date, James Mechlin was owner of the premises described in
this complaint; deny that the said James Mechlin ever purchased from
William Mathews the aforesaid property or any part thereof, or paid any
money or any other valuable consideration; deny that the said Mechlin
ever built a house, or planted trees, or resided on the said property
himself, with his family, or by agent or servant occupied said premises;
deny that respondent, Charles Hogsden, was ever put in charge of the
aforesaid premises or any part thereof, as the agent, or servant, or
tenant of the said James Mechlin; deny that the said James Mechlin ever
was in the possession of the said premises, but on the contrary, these
defendants allege that if James Mechlin had any kind of possession, it
was as a naked trespasser, and his title to said property was at all
times disputed and contested by other parties.
These defendants allege that defendant Charles Hogsden was the rightful
owner of the said premises; that defendants Peter Roper and John Gasbang
are the innocent purchasers of the legal and equitable title, and are
now in actual and lawful possession of the said premises, having paid a
just and fair price to the rightful owner, Charles Hogsden.
These defendants further allege, that the plaintiff Beatrice Mechlin
wrongfully, unlawfully, fraudulently and maliciously, and for the
purpose of cheating and defrauding the aforesaid innocent purchasers,
Peter Roper and John Gasbang, out of their rights in said property,
entered into a fraudulent conspiracy with one Josefa Alamar and one
Gabriel Alamar, wherein it was agreed by and between them that said
Josefa Alamar, as executrix of the estate of Mariano Alamar, and
purporting to carry out the wishes and instructions of her deceased
husband, the said Mariano Alamar, would execute a deed of sale or a
confirmatory deed of said property.
And these defendants aver, that in pursuance of the fraudulent
conspiracy aforesaid, the said Josefa did execute a fraudulent deed of
sale to the said Beatrice Mechlin, for the purpose of cheating and
defrauding these innocent purchasers, etc.
This string of prevarications ran on for about twenty pages more,
repeating, _ad nauseam_, the same falsehoods with all legal alliteration
and more than legal license.
Gabriel was left to attend this suit and other matters, and with grief,
which was too profound for description and too heart-rending almost for
human endurance, the two loving families separated.
Elvira must leave her beloved mother in her sad bereavement; Lizzie must
see hers go to perform the painful duty of accompanying the remains of a
beloved husband.
In sorrow and silent tears the Alamar family returned to their country
house the day after the Mechlins left.
Mrs. Mechlin's suit in ejectment against the "_innocent_ purchasers,"
Peter and John, was, as a matter of course, decided in favor of these
_innocents_ of Judge Gryllus Lawlack. The Judge knew, as well as any one
else, that the allegations of these men were brazen falsehoods strung
together for the purpose of robbery. Nevertheless, his Honor Lawlack
made his rulings, and set down his findings, all to suit the robbers.
Among the findings that his Honor had the hardihood to write down, were
these: That "James Mechlin had never possessed the premises in question;
had never lived there in person or by proxy, and had never made any
improvements, etc." And these premeditated falsehoods went to the
Supreme Court. The case was, of course, reversed and remanded for new
trial, but with additional misstatements it was _again_ decided by Judge
Lawlack in favor of his friends. Thus, in fact, the Supreme Court was
_reversed by Judge Gryllus Lawlack_. The case was the second time
remanded by the Supreme Court, but in a new trial it was _again_ decided
in favor of Peter and John. This being the same as "reversing the
Supreme Court," but Lawlack laughs at this, saying that the Supreme
Court decides according to their opinions, and he (Lawlack) does the
same.
As for Peter Roper, he made no concealment of there being a _private
bargain_ between himself and Judge Gryllus Lawlack. Peter to render
political or other services, Gryllus to reward them with judicial ones.
At a political meeting a friend of Roper (a lawyer in the pay of the
monopoly), urged him to make a speech in favor of the railroad. Peter
declined, saying that as Gryllus Lawlack wanted to run again for the
Judgeship, and knew how anti-monopolist San Diego County was, it would
hurt the Judge politically to have him (Peter Roper) speak for the
monopoly, as everybody knew that he (Peter) was the principal support of
the Judge, and exponent of his principles.
"And," concluded Peter, "if I speak for the monopoly the Judge will
grant a rehearing in a suit I am opposing, and will not decide my case
as I want. That is understood between us."
This is the fashion of dispensing justice in San Diego, just as Peter
bargains for.
But this order of things (or rather disorder) could not have been
possible if the Texas Pacific Railroad had not been strangled, as San
Diego would not then be the poor, crippled and dwarfed little city that
she now is. In this unfortunate condition it is that she submits to the
scandalous debaucheries of judicial favorites; debaucheries and
violations of common justice, social decorum, of individual rights;
debaucheries tolerated because the local power sanctions with his
encouragement such proceedings.
If San Diego had been permitted to grow, to have a population, her
administration of the laws would have been in other hands, and outrages
like breaking into the Mechlin house could not have occurred. The voters
of the county would not then have elected a Judge that could reward such
vandalism, by allowing the thieves to keep the stolen premises. Now,
however, without a railroad, San Diego is at the bottom of a bag, the
mouth of which Mr. Huntington has closed and drawn the strings tight.