The Purchase Price; Or, The Cause of Compromise Read online

  CHAPTER II

  THE GATEWAY, AND SOME WHO PASSED

  When Captain Edward Carlisle made casual reference to the"weak-kneed compromise," he simply voiced a personal opinion on atheme which was in the mind of every American, and one regardedwith as many minds as there were men. That political measure ofthe day was hated by some, admired by others. This man condemnedit, that cried aloud its righteousness and infallibility; oneargued for it shrewdly, another declaimed against it loudly. Itwas alike blessed and condemned. The southern states argued overit, many of the northern states raged at it. It ruined manypolitical fortunes and made yet other fortunes. That year was athreshold-time in our history, nor did any see what lay beyond thedoor.

  If there existed then a day when great men and great measures wereto be born, certainly there lay ready a stage fit for any mightydrama--indeed, commanding it. It was a young world withal, indeeda world not even yet explored, far less exploited, so far as wereconcerned those vast questions which, in its dumb and blind way,humanity both sides of the sea then was beginning to take up.America scarce more than a half century ago was for the most part aland of query, rather than of hope.

  Not even in their query were the newer lands of our country thenalike. We lay in a vast chance-medley, and never had any countrygreater need for care and caution in its councils. By the grace ofthe immortal gods we had had given into our hands an enormous areaof the earth's richest inheritance, to have and to hold, if thatmight be; but as yet we were not one nation. We had no unitedthought, no common belief as to what was national wisdom. Forthree quarters of a century this country had grown; for half acentury it had been divided, one section fighting against anotherin all but arms. We spoke of America even then as a land of thefree, but it was not free; nor on the other hand was it whollyslave. Never in the history of the world has there been so great aland, nor one of so diverse systems of government.

  Before these travelers, for instance, who paused here at the headof the Ohio River, there lay the ancient dividing line between theSouth and the North. To the northwest, between the Great Lakes andthe Ohio, swept a vast land which, since the days of the oldNorthwest Ordinance of 1787, had by _national_ enactment beendecreed for ever free. Part of this had the second time beendeclared free, by _state_ law also. To the eastward of this laycertain states where slavery had been forbidden by the laws of theseveral states, though not by that of the nation. Again, far outto the West, beyond the great waterway on one of whose arms ourtravelers now stood, lay the vast provinces bought from Napoleon;and of these, all lying north of that compromise line of thirty-sixdegrees, thirty minutes, agreed upon in 1820, had been declared forever free by _national_ law. Yet beyond this, in the extremenorthwest, lay Oregon, fought through as free soil by virtue of theold Northwest Ordinance, the sleeping dog of slavery being evadedand left to lie when the question of Oregon came up. Along thePacific, and south of Oregon, lay the new empire of California,bitterly contended over by both sections, but by her ownself-elected _state_ law declared for ever free soil. Minnesotaand the Dakotas were still unorganized, so there the sleeping dogmight lie, of course.

  To the south of that river on which our voyagers presently were totake ship, lay a section comprising the southern states, in extentfar larger than all the northern states, and much stronger inlegislative total power in the national halls of Congress. Hereslavery was maintained by laws of the _states_ themselves. Thegreat realm of Texas, long coveted by the South, now was joined tothe ranks of the slave-holding states, by virtue of a war ofsomewhat doubtful justice though of undoubted success. AboveTexas, and below the line of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes,lay a portion of what was known as the Indian country, where in1820 there had been made no _prohibition_ of slavery by the_national_ government.

  Above the line of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, there thrustup a portion of Texas which had no law at all, nor had it any untila very recent day, being known under the title of "No Man's Land."Yet on to the westward, toward free California, lay a vast butsupposedly valueless region where cotton surely would not grow,that rich country now known as Utah, Nevada, Arizona and NewMexico. This region, late gained by war from Mexico, soon to beincreased by purchase from Mexico on the South, was still ofindeterminate status, slavery not being prohibited but permitted,by _federal_ action, although most of this territory had been freesoil under the old laws of Mexico. Moreover, as thoughsardonically to complicate all these much-mingled matters, therethrust up to the northward, out of the permitted slavery region ofthe South, the state of Missouri, quite above the fateful line ofthirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, where slavery was permittedboth by _federal_ and _state_ enactment.

  Men spoke even then, openly or secretly, of disunion; but in fulltruth, there had as yet been no actual union. In such confusion,what man could call unwise a halting-time, a compromise? A countryof tenures so mixed, of theories so diverse, could scarcely havebeen called a land of common government. It arrogated to itself,over all its dominion, the title of a free republic, yet by its ownmutual covenant of national law, any owner of slaves in thesouthern states might pursue what he called his property across thedividing line, and invoke, in any northern state, the support ofthe state or national officers to assist him in taking back hisslaves. As a republic we called ourselves even then old andstable. Yet was ever any country riper for misrule than ours?Forgetting now what is buried, the old arguments all forgot, thatmost bloody and most lamentable war all forgot, could any mind, anyimagination, depict a situation more rife with tumult, more ripefor war than this? And was it not perforce an issue, of compromiseor war; of compromise, or a union never to be consummated?

  Yet into this heterogeneous region, from all Europe, itselfconvulsed with revolution, Europe just beginning to awaken to thedoctrine of the rights of humanity, there pressed westward everincreasing thousands of new inhabitants--in that current year overa third of a million, the largest immigration thus far known. Mostof these immigrants settled in the free country of the North, andas the railways were now so hurriedly crowding westward, it was tobe seen that the ancient strife between North and South must growand not lessen, for these new-comers were bitterly opposed toslavery. Swiftly the idea national was growing. The ideademocratic, the idea of an actual self-government--what, now, wasto be its history?

  North of the fated compromise line, west of the admitted slavestate of Missouri, lay other rich lands ripe for the plow, readyfor Americans who had never paid more than a dollar an acre forland, or for aliens who had never been able to own any land at all.Kansas and Nebraska, names conceived but not yet born,--what wouldthey be? Would the compromise of this last summer of 1850 hold thebalances of power even? Could it save this republic, still youngand needy, for yet a time in the cause of peace and growth? Manydevoutly hoped it. Many devoutly espoused the cause of compromisemerely for the sake of gaining time. As neither of the greatpolitical parties of the day filled its ranks from either section,so in both sections there were many who espoused, as many whodenied, the right of men to own slaves. We speak of slavery as theone great question of that day. It was not and never has been thegreatest. The question of democracy--that was even then, and it isnow, the greatest question.

  Here on the deck of the steamer at the little city of Pittsburg,then gateway of the West, there appeared men of purposes andbeliefs as mixed as this mixed country from which they came. Somewere pushing out into what now is known as Kansas, others going totake up lands in Missouri. Some were to pass south to the slavecountry, others north to the free lands; men of all sorts andconditions, many men, of many minds, that was true, and allhurrying into new lands, new problems, new dangers, new remedies.It was a great and splendid day, a great and vital time, thatthreshold-time, when our western traffic increased so rapidly andassuredly that steamers scarcely could be built rapidly enough toaccommodate it, and the young rails leaped westward at a speedbefore then unknown in the world.

  Carried somehow, somewhi
ther, for some reason, on these surgingfloods, were these travelers, of errand not wholly obvious to theirfellows, yet of such sort as to call into query alike the nature oftheir errand and their own relations. It is easily earnedrepetition to state that Josephine St. Auban's was a presence notto be concealed. Even such a boat as the Mount Vernon offered atotal deck space so cramped as to leave secrecy or privacy well outof the question, even had the motley and democratic assemblage ofpassengers been disposed to accord either. Yet there was somethingin the appearance of this young woman and her companion whichcaused all the heterogeneous groups of humanity to make way forthem, as presently they approached the gang-plank.

  Apparently they were not unexpected. The ship's clerks readily ledthe way to apartments which had been secured in advance. Havingseen to the luggage of his charges, whom he disposed in a gooddouble state-room, the leader of the party repaired to his ownquarters. Tarrying no longer than to see his own luggage safeaboard, he commanded one of the men to fetch him to the office ofthe captain.

  The latter gentleman, busy and important, dropped much of hisofficial way when he found whom he was accosting. "This is quiteunexpected, sir," he began, removing his cap and bowing.

  "Captain Rogers," began the other, "you have been advised to someextent of my plans by telegram from Washington."

  The captain hesitated. "Is this with the lady's consent? I mustconsider the question of damages."

  "There will be no damages. Your owners will be quite safe, and sowill you."

  "Are there any charges of any kind against----?"

  "That is not for you to ask. She is under my care, and must notdisembark until I say the word. You will kindly give her a placeat my table. There must be no idle curiosity to annoy her. Buttell me, when shall we reach the mouth of the river? Is it notpossible to save some time by avoiding some of the smaller stops?"

  "But our freight, our passengers--" The captain passed a handacross his brow, much perplexed. The other showed a suddenfirmness.

  "My errand demands secrecy and speed alike. There must be nocommunication between this boat and the shore, so far as this younglady is concerned. Meantime, if all is ready, it would please memightily if we could start."

  The captain pulled a bell rope. "Tell the mate to cast off," hesaid, to the man who answered. An instant later the hoarse boom ofthe boat's whistles roared out their warning. There came a crushof late-comers at the gangway. Shouts arose; deck hands scrambledwith the last packages of freight; but presently the staging wasshipped and all the lines cast free. Churning the stained watersinto foam with her great paddles, the _Mount Vernon_ swung slowlyout into the narrow stream.

  The Captain pulled a bell rope.]

  "Now, Captain Rogers," went on Captain Carlisle, tersely, "tell, mewho's aboard;" and presently he began to ponder the names which, inloose fashion, the clerk assembled from his memory and his personalacquaintance.

  "Hm, Hm!" commented the listener, "very few whom I know. JudgeClayton from the other side, below Cairo. State Senator Jones,from Belmont--"

  "You know Mr. Jones? Old 'Decline and Fall' Jones? He never readsany book excepting Gibbon's _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_.Always declines a drink when offered, but he's sure to fall amoment later!" Thus the smiling clerk.

  "Well, I may see Mr. Jones, possibly Judge Clayton. There's no oneelse." He seemed not dissatisfied.

  Alas! for human calculations and for human hopes! Even as he leftthe captain's room to ascend the stair, he met face to face thevery man whose presence he least desired.

  "Dunwody!" he exclaimed.

  The gentleman thus addressed extended a hand. "I see you are safeaboard. Myself, too, I am very glad."

  "I thought you said you were going--"

  "I was, but I changed my mind at the last moment. It is far morecomfortable going down by boat than it is by stage. Then, thethought of the pleasure of your society on the journey--" He wassmiling, rather maliciously.

  "Yes, yes, of course!" somewhat dismally.

  "But now, to be frank with you, you don't seem altogether happy.Why do you want to be rid of me? What harm have I done?" smiledDunwody.

  "Oh, my dear sir!"

  "May not one change his mind if he likes?"

  "My dear sir, there is no argument about that."

  "Certainly not! The only argument is on the previousquestion--When are you going to introduce me as you should, to thatextremely beautiful young lady who is with you?"

  "Good God, my very dear sir!"

  "You are not 'my dear sir' at all, so long as you try to hoodwinkme," persisted Dunwody, still smiling. "Come, now, what are youdoing here, west bound with a young and charming person who is notyour wife, widow, mother, daughter, _fiancee_ or sister--who isnot--"

  "That will do, if you please!" Carlisle's hot temper named into hisfreckled face.

  "Why so touchy?"

  "It is within a man's rights to choose his own company and his ownways. I am not accountable, except as I choose."

  The other man was studying him closely, noting his flush, hisirritation, his uneasiness. "But what I am saying now is that itis cruel, unusual, inhuman and unconstitutional to be so selfishabout it. Come, I shall only relent when you have shown yourselfmore kind. For instance, in the matter of her table in thedining-room--"

  "The lady has expressed a desire to remain quite alone, my dearsir. I must bow to her will. It is her privilege to come and goas she likes."

  "She may come and go as she likes?" queried Dunwody, still smiling.There was a look on his face which caused Carlisle suddenly to turnand examine him sharply.

  "Naturally."

  "Without your consent, even?"

  "Absolutely so."

  "Then why should she have sent me this little message?" demandedDunwody suddenly. He presented a folded bit of paper, snapping iton the back with a finger.

  A still deeper flush spread over the young officer's telltale face.He opened and read: "If you care to aid a woman who is in trouble,come to me at room 19 when you can."

  "When did you receive this?" he demanded. "By God!" he added, tohimself, "she did it, too!"

  "Within the moment. Her maid brought it."

  "You didn't have this before you came on board--but of course, thatwasn't possible."

  Dunwody looked at him keenly. "You have just heard me," he said."No, I don't deny there are some things here which I can'tunderstand. You are covering up something, my dear Captain, ofcourse, but just what I do not know. Your station in life, yourpresence in this country, so far from home!--" He smiled now in away which his antagonist considered sinister. Yet what defensecould be made without exposing secrets which were not his touncover?

  "Come," went on Dunwody, "let's be frank about it. You may trustme, of course. But--neither sister, wife, nor servant--could youblame any man, especially any man who had a direct message likethis, for wanting, or, say, even demanding a meeting? Haven't Ithe right? Come, now!"

  Carlisle made no immediate answer, and was about to turn on hisheel, finding it hard to restrain himself. He paused, however.

  "Very good, then. To show how little you know me, and how much youwrong both this lady and myself, you shall meet her, as you say.Not that you have earned the right."