A POLITICAL DISCUSSION AT ABEL BRAWN'S SHOP--ABEL'S VIEWS OF
THE SUB-TREASURY--IMPORTANT COMMUNICATION MADE BY THEODORE
FOG--THE NEW LIGHTS TAKE GROUND AGAINST THE BANKS--THE HON.
MIDDLETON FLAM RESIGNS THE PRESIDENCY OF THE COPPERPLATE
BANK--SNUFFERS ASPIRES TO THE SUCCESSION.
Toward the latter end of August, in the year referred to in the last
chapter, about five o'clock in the afternoon, a much larger collection
than usual of work horses were seen around Abel Brawn's shop, waiting to
be shod. The shop stands a few rods below Christy M'Curdy's mill, and
immediately upon the bank of the Rumblebottom. The mill is just outside
of the compactly-built portion of the Borough; and from the door, Neal
Hopper, the miller, could see along the road, on his left hand, into the
principal cross street of Quodlibet, and on his right, directly into
Abel Brawn's smith-shop. This advantage of position was much prized by
Neal, because it enabled him to observe everybody going either from the
town-side or the country-side to the blacksmith's. And as the shop was a
famous ground for political discussion and newsmongering; and as Neal
had an insaturable stomach (insaturabile abdomen) for that sort of
gossip, a glance from the mill door gave him the means of knowing who
was either at or on the way to the shop. Then, if the company suited
him, he was in the habit of confiding the temporary government of the
mill to a mealy-headed negro called Cicero, who could turn out a grist
as well as himself, and so allow himself the chance of a brush at
argument with Abel Brawn's customers.
On this evening in August, as I said, there were more horses than usual
at the smithy. Six or seven men were lounging about the door or in the
shop, talking very loud, with every now and then a word from Abel, who
was busily employed alternately hammering out shoes on the anvil, and
fitting them to the horses' feet; while squinting Billy Spike, a rather
ungainly lad, an apprentice to the smith, was keeping off the flies with
a horsetail fastened to the end of a stick. I had been taking a walk
that evening with some of my boys to look at the ruins of the old
school-house, and, seeing this little gathering about Abel Brawn's, I
stopped to hear what was going on. Being somewhat fatigued by my
exercitation, I sat down on the bench under the shed, having sent my
boys home by themselves, and remained here a quiet though not an
inattentive spectator of the scene before me. It is by cultivating such
opportunities that I have been enabled to impart that interest to these
pages which, without vanity, I may say my reader cannot fail to discover
in them. Such have ever been my choicest and most profitable moments of
observation--subseciva quaedam tempora, quae ego perire non patiar.
Neal Hopper was engaged in repairing a bolting-cloth up stairs in the
mill, and, for some time after this assemblage had gathered about the
smith's shop, did not hear or seem to know what was going forward, until
there came a loud, sharp laugh and a whoop which aroused his attention.
As soon as he heard this, he pricked up his ears, listened a moment, and
upon a repetition of the laugh, stepped to the window, looked down
toward the shop and saw who were there, then called Cicero to finish the
repair of the bolting-cloth--and went straight to the blacksmith's.
"Well, what's the fraction," said Neal, "that you're all a busting out
in such a spell of a laugh about?"
Hearing Neal's voice, Abel Brawn put down the horse's foot which he was
then shoeing, from his lap, and standing upright, replied,--
"There seems to be a sort of a snarl here among these brother Democrats
of yours, concerning of this here Sub-Treasury. Some of them say it's
against the banks, and some of them say it's for the banks. They have
got it that Cambreling should have give out in Congress that it was
going to help the banks and keep them up; and others, on the contrary,
say that Old Tom Benton swears that it won't leave so much as the skin
of a corporated company 'twixt Down East and the Mississippi. And they
say, moreover, that little Martin lays dark about it."
"What does the Globe give out concerning of it?" inquired Neal.
"Well, the Globe," replied Sam Pivot, the assessor of our county, who
was out for sheriff, and who was very cautious in all his opinions, "is,
as I take it, a little dubious. Sometimes he makes this Sub-Treasury a
smasher to all banks; and then again he fetches it up as a sort of staff
to prop the good ones and to knock down the cripples. Last fall, just
before the New York election, he rather buttered the banks, seeing that
the Democracy in that quarter hadn't made up their minds to run as
strong against the laboring people as they are willing to do over here
in the South. But in April, when the Virginny elections was up, he was
as savage as a meat-ax;--and I rather expect, from what I see in the
President's message, that it isn't yet fairly understood whether the
Sub-Treasury is to kill or cure the banking system."
"It's a pig in a poke, to make the best of it," said Abel Brawn; "and is
flung before the people now because Van hasn't got nothing better to
offer us, and not because he values it above an old shoe. To my
thinking, when the people have decided against a law, as they have done
now against this Sub-Treasury, as you call it, twice in Congress, a
President of the United States ought to have that respect for the will
of the people to let it drop. That's what I call Whig Democracy--though
it mayn't be yourn."
"Never!" exclaimed Tom Crop, the constable of our Borough. "If the
people go agin the Dimocracy, the Dimocracy ought to put them down. We
go for principle; and it's our business to try it over and over again,
until we carry it. Truth is mighty and _will_ prevail, as the old
Gineral says."
"I have never been able," said Neal Hopper, "rightly to make out what
this Sub-Treasury is, anyhow. If any man knows, let him tell me."
"What does that signify?" answered Crop. "Some calls it a divorce--but
betwixt who I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. It's for the
poor man we are a fighting, against the rich. The Whigs are for making
the poor poorer, and the rich richer--and I say any man who goes against
the Sub-Treasury, can't have no respect for Dimmicratic principles."
"I'll tell you what it is," said Abel Brawn; "ever since the old
Federals took hold of General Jackson's skirts, and joined him in
breaking down the banks, they have been plotting to keep their heads
above water--and so they set about making experiments right and left, to
see if they couldn't hit upon something new to please the people. But,
bless you--they don't know no more about the people than they do about
making horseshoes; and that's the reason why they have been such
bunglers in all their works: and the end has been to bring us into such
a pickle as no country ever was in before. They have teetotally ruinated
everything they have laid their hands on--and now they come out and say
'the people expect too much from the Government,' and by way of making
that saying good, they have got up this Sub-Treasury, which is nothing
more nor less than a contrivance to get all the money of the country
into their own strong box, knowing that when they have _the money_, they
have got _the power_, for as long as they please. That's an old Federal
trick, which they understand as well as any men in the world. Now the
people, who see into this scheme, don't like it, and so they vote it
down in Congress. Well, what does these Federals do then? Submit? No--to
be sure not--that's not their principle. They go at it again; set to
drilling of Congress, and by promising this man, and buying off that one
with an office, and setting their papers to telling all sorts of lies,
they get the country so confounded at last that it doesn't know whether
it is on its head or its heels. But the worst of it is, these very
Federals--some of them real old Blue Lights--go about preaching about
rich and poor, and sowing enmity between them; and they work so diligent
upon this heat, that many a simple man at last believes them. It's all a
trick--a mean, sneaking deceit, which I am ashamed to think any honest
poor man in this happy country of ours could be taken in by for one
minute. But we never had this talk until we got Federal measures and
Federal men at the head of the Government. Who are the rich that they
talk about? Why, it is every man who has sense enough to know that they
are imposing on him, whether he be worth a million or worth only five
hundred dollars--unless indeed it be one of their own rich men, and then
they can't praise him too much. Is industry a sin in this land, that
when it has earned a little something for a wet day, the man who has
thriven by it must be held up as an enemy to his country? Does it hurt a
man's patriotism, when he sends his children to school, and works until
he can buy a tract of land to start them well in life--or when he rents
a pew in church, and carries his family there to teach them to fear God
and keep his commandments? Is it to be told _against_ a man, that his
neighbors count him to be frugal and thrifty, and that he is considered
respectable in the world? Yet that is your new fashioned Democracy,
which wants to put every one in the dust who doesn't idle away his time
and squander his substance, and let his family go to rack, whilst he
strolls about the country bawling Democracy. Thank God! the Democracy
I've larnt in my time has taught me to do to others as I would have
others do to me; and which has imbibed into my mind the principle that I
am a freeman, and have a right to think for myself, to speak for myself,
and to act for myself, without having a string put through my nose to
lead me wherever it suits a set of scheming, lying, cunning politicians
to have me for their benefit. Democracy's not what it used to be, or you
would never find the people putting up with this eternal dictation from
the President and his friends to Congress and to the nation, what he
will have, and what he won't have:--that's what I call rank monarchy,
and I will fight against it to my latest breath.
"You will have a chance to judge for yourselves whether the
President dictates to the people or not, in this very matter of the
Sub-Treasury:--wait till the next session of Congress:--the bill has
just been rejected a second time. You will see that Martin isn't a going
to give it up, but will bring it forward again and again--until at last,
I make no doubt, he will get a Congress shabby enough to do his bidding,
and pass it;--and many of the very men who are against it to-day, will
abandon their own opinions and go for it, for no other reason in the
world but that they will be afraid of their nose-leaders, who will tell
them they are no Democrats unless they support the President. It is
nothing more nor less than _enlisting_ men in the service, and marching
and countermarching them whichever way the _officers_ choose; besides
bringing every man to a drum-head who dares to disobey orders."
"What's Tom Benton's notion?" inquired Neal Hopper.
"He goes for the Sub-Treasury out and out," said Pivot.
"In course, he does, all hollow," interrupted Tom Crop, with rather a
fierce frown and an angry tone, designed to express his indignant
feeling at the sentiments uttered by Abel Brawn, and which sternness of
countenance had been gradually gathering during the whole time occupied
by the Blacksmith's discourse. "There's none of this slang in him. He's
agin all Monypolies, and for the rale Constitutional Currency--and
them's the genuine Dimmicratic principles:--leastways, they've come
about so now, whatever they might 'a been in times past. Old Tom's the
first man what ever found out what the Constitutional Currency raly was,
and sot the Dimmicrats a goin' on the Hard-Money track! And, besides,
don't I know these banks?--they're nuisances in grain, and naturally as
good as strikes a poor man in his vitals. I've seed it myself. Here was
Joe Plumb, the cider-press maker, got a note from Jerry Lantern down
here at the crossroads, for settin' up his cider-press, and he heaved it
in the bank for them to collect it--and what does the bank do, but go
and _purtest_ it! That's the way they treat a poor man like Joe Plumb,
what's obliged to work for his livin':--would they 'a sarved a Big Bug
so? No--don't tell me about the banks! I'm sick a hearin' on 'em."
This discussion was now interrupted by the approach of Theodore Fog,
Flan Sucker, and Sim Travers. By this addition to the company, the New
Lights gained an overwhelming preponderance of numbers over their
adversaries. Indeed, Abel Brawn, and Davy Post, the wheelwright, were
the only Whigs in the assemblage; and the consequence was that Abel, who
fought them all pretty manfully at first, was obliged to give in so far
as to remain silent--with the exception of a random shot, which now and
then he let off by way of repartee--Abel not being bad at that. Davy
Post was naturally a silent man, and, therefore, did not pretend to be a
speaker on this occasion.
As soon as Theodore Fog was informed what was the topic in debate, and
especially of the doubts which seemed to be prevalent regarding the
Sub-Treasury, he took a station against the door-post, where the whole
company gathered around him; and, being now in an oratorical mood, he
began to address the auditory in something like a speech:--
"Gentlemen," said he, at the same time drawing, with a jerk, his
neckcloth away and flaunting it in his hand, "in a free government we
have no secrets. Freedom of Opinion and its twin-sister Freedom of
Discussion are chartered libertines that float upon the ambient air
consecrated to the Genius of Universal Emancipation----"
"Hurra for old The!" shouted Sim Travers.
"Ya--hoop--halloo--go it!" yelled Flan Sucker, with a wild and deafening
scream, which sufficiently manifested the fact that he was most noisily
drunk.
Several of the company interfered by remonstrating with Flan against
this unnecessary demonstration of fervor, which Flan, on the other hand,
insisted upon as his right.
"Whenever old The. Fog comes out high flown," said he, "I yells as a
matter of principle. It's encouragin' to youth. Nebuchadnezzar, the King
of the Jews, couldn't beat him at a speech: he's the butt cut of
Democracy."
"Flan, hold your tongue," said Theodore. "Gentlemen, we have no secrets.
Abel Brawn and Davy Post are welcome to hear all I have to impart. I
know--everybody knows--that we have been in a state of suspense on the
great question of the Sub-Treasury. The INDEPENDENT Treasury, as we are
going to call it since Congress rejected it--we'll try what a new name
will do. I say we have been in suspense. Like honest New Lights we have
waited to see how the cat would jump. Some men imagined that Martin
would bow to the judgment of the people and give it up. They did not
know the stern, uncompromising, footstep-following principles that dwell
at the bottom of his heart. He will _never_ give it up--the people
_must_ take it: he has got nothing else for them. Hasn't he tried
everything else? And isn't this the _last_ thing he could think of? Why,
then, of course, the people _must_ gulp it down, or the party is broke.
Where is the slave that would desert his party? Who's here so base would
be a turncoat? The Whigs call the President the _servant_ of the
people--we call him the Ruler, the Great Chieftain,--and when a man
deserts him he is a TURNCOAT--that is sound New-Light doctrine.
"Sirs, it has been developed in the recent demonstrations of
contemporary history----"
"Yip!"
"Silence, Flan Sucker, and don't make a fool of yourself. It has been
discovered that bank influence has defeated the Sub-Treasury bill. Every
member who voted against it has received a large bribe from the banks.
The Globe man has lately discovered this astounding corruption: the
President is aware of it; and for this reason, in addition to that which
I have already mentioned, he is determined to run it as the INDEPENDENT
Treasury again. Every New Light is expected to toe the mark."
"Three cheers for that!" cried Pivot.
"We have heretofore _partially_ denounced the banks," continued Fog; "we
are now to open upon them like hounds--worry them like rats. From this
day forth, the Quods will take a new turn;--they will dismiss all pity
from their bosoms, and cry aloud for strangling the banks--not even
excepting our own. Patriotism demands the sacrifice. Down with paper
money! will be the word. Turn the tables on the Whigs, and call the
whole bank system the spawn of aristocracy--remember that. At the same
time, gentlemen, be not afraid. No harm will be done to any bank you
have a liking for--the essence of the thing is in the noise. We shall
have perhaps to kill the banks in the District of Columbia--but that's
nothing;--it will be an offering to consistency. All experiments require
an exhausted receiver--and the District is ours;--a snug little piece of
machinery to play upon. So keep it in mind--Treasury Notes and no Paper
Money!--down with Credit, and up with the Independent Treasury!"
"Ain't that first-rate?" said Sim Travers. "The., who sot that agoin'?"
"Who?" replied Fog. "Why, some of the highest men in this nation--the
Lights of the age. Middleton Flam has just received letters from
Washington, laying open the whole plan of operations. He has accordingly
determined to put himself in position for ultimate action, by resigning
the presidency of the bank. Middleton Flam, gentlemen, I am free to say
it, although we have differed on some questions, is a great man and an
honor to the New Lights. He has already sent his resignation to
Nicodemus Handy. The Board meet to-morrow to act upon it. You may
imagine, gentlemen, who is looked to as his successor. But I here
announce to _you_, the conglomerate essence of my constituency at large,
that on no consideration can I be persuaded to accept the vacant place.
No, gentlemen, the whole tenor of my life renders that impossible. I
have defined my position years ago; and every man must see, that
president of that, or any other bank, I can never be. Simon Snuffers is
the man. If he can make it agreeable to the Democratic principle upon
which he holds the Hay Scales--and that it is for you to say--I have no
doubt he will accept. Simon has no ulterior objects;--and men without
ulterior objects may do as they please. But I trust that this
responsible post will never be pressed upon me. Upon that point I cannot
indulge the wishes of my friends."
The importance of this speech was duly appreciated by those to whom it
was addressed; and as every man was anxious to know what everybody else
thought about these matters, there was an immediate adjournment to the
Borough. The consequence was, that Abel Brawn's shop was left in a few
moments without a customer; and in the course of the next half hour the
news communicated by Theodore Fog was in every man's mouth. The movement
at Washington was held to be decisive. The Independent Treasury, from
that moment, became a leading test of the allegiance of the Democrats of
Quodlibet.