THIRD ERA—DIVISIONS IN QUODLIBET CONTINUE—FOMENTED BY THE WOMEN—FOG RATHER DISAPPOINTS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS COURSE IN THE LEGISLATURE—PROSTRATION OF BUSINESS IN THE BOROUGH—TRACED TO THE MERCHANTS—MR. FLAM'S OPINION OF THEM, AND THE CONSEQUENCE THEREOF—INDIGNATION OF THE NEW LIGHTS AGAINST THEM—FOG'S EULOGIUM UPON THEM—MOVEMENTS OF THE TRUE GRITS—FOX'S SKILLFUL MANAGEMENT—THE TIGERTAIL AFFAIR—MYSTERIOUS TERMINATION OF IT—NIM PORTER'S INDISCRETION.

The design of this little book forbids that I should do more than cursorily touch upon many incidents in the history of Quodlibet, which, although abundant of interest to the curious reader, are not so immediately connected with the main purpose of this work—that purpose being to unfold the operation of the great principle of the New-Light Quodlibetarian theory.

Whenever the time shall arrive, as I would fain persuade myself it must, in which the public shall feel such concern in the affairs of Quodlibet as to demand of me a full disclosure of the treasures of my MSS., I shall greatly delight in spreading before it many particulars which I have collected, having reference to the private concernments and domestic transactions of our people and their sundry ways in regard to many matters which do not fall within the scope of my present undertaking. For, truly, the history of Quodlibet will be found, when impartially narrated, to yield a plentiful fruitage of ethical, moral and social instruction, as well as political—to which latter aspect are my labors at this time confined.

In conformity with my plan, and being desirous to hasten forward to a more modern epoch in these annals, I pass over the intervening space, and bring my reader almost a year in advance of the events narrated in the last chapter.

It was now approaching the fifth year of the Removal:—the long session of Congress had closed in July, 1838. The Hon. Middleton Flam had once more returned to his constituents, and temporarily mingled in the walks of private life. Greatly was his return desiderated at this epoch. We had got all wrong—we lacked information—we wanted this great man's advice.

The split at this time—if I may use a metaphor—was green and wide; or, in plainer language, our dissensions ran high. If the men might be said to be at sixes and sevens, the women were twice as bad—they were at twelves and fourteens. Mrs. Ferret had become inveterate, and headed a party of Feminine True Grits; Susan Barndollar, who had a temper of her own, of course became inveterate too, and, as Barndollar & Hardbottle were accounted a rich firm, she headed, or strove to do so, a party of Feminine Mandarins. Hester Hardbottle, under a similar impulse, took command of the Female Middlings. Thus marshaled, the New-Light women manifested a very high degree of political corruscation, and kept the Borough in perpetual hot water. Every tea-party was a scalding concern, and it was lamentable to see what a foothold the serpent of discord had gained in our little Eden of Quodlibet.

The men were not so ferocious; in part because they had their business to look after; but chiefly, because the stronger, when they failed in argument, could drub the weaker—and that drubbing system is a great moderator of political opinions. The women, having neither of these motives to keep quiet, took the bits in their mouths and ran off as fast as, and whenever, they chose.

Theodore Fog's conduct in the Legislature, during the past winter, had in some degree rather weakened the cause of his friends. He had disappointed them—although they were unwilling publicly to allow as much—on two points: First, because he had not got them all provided with offices, as he had, it appeared, secretly promised; but, on the contrary, came home without having accomplished that desirable object for a single individual of the party; and, secondly, because he had been exceedingly irregular in his habits during the whole session, and had consequently made but four speeches, of three hours each, during the winter, when it was confidently expected that he would have made at least thirty-four, and have completely silenced the opposition. The irregularity of his habits they could forgive; but the matter of the offices sunk deep in their hearts—they began to suspect his Democracy.

A change had also taken place in the business affairs of Quodlibet. All improvements had ceased:—many persons were out of employment; industry was declining; trade was at a low ebb; the mechanics were grumbling, and four mercantile houses had failed. Immediately after the suspension Nicodemus Handy had issued a great amount of small notes. Dr. Thomas G. Winkelman, actuated by patriotic emotions, also issued a batch payable in soda-water, soap, or physic. Zachary Younghusband, the tinplate-worker and postmaster, reflecting on the crisis, and being determined to contribute his mite toward the regulation of the currency, followed the example of Dr. Winkelman, and put out a ream, redeemable in Copperplate Bank notes when presented to the amount of five dollars at his tinplate shop. Sim Travers, who had a drinking shed at the lower end of the canal basin, with equal public spirit, uttered his paper in fips, "Good for a Drink." Many others imitated these precedents, whereby it fell out that no part of the Union was better supplied with a currency than Quodlibet.

Still the Borough languished and pined under a gradual decay of its prosperity; and it was long before our wise men could ascertain the real source of this decline. The cause was at last discovered. We are indebted for its development to the astuteness of our distinguished representative. There were eight of the principal mercantile houses of the Borough which had been established by Whigs: in fact, throwing out Barndollar & Hardbottle, all the merchants of Quodlibet might be said to be opposed to the administration. It was very apparent, after the Hon. Middleton Flam drew the attention of the club to this fact, that these houses had combined to produce an utter prostration of business, solely for political effect, and that the malevolence of four of the most thriving among them had gone so far as even to render themselves bankrupt, and to break up, for no earthly purpose but that of making the administration unpopular. "This is a specimen of the gratitude," said Mr. Flam, speaking with great emotion upon the subject, "this is the gratitude of these commercial vultures—(he always called them commercial vultures after the Suspension, and when speaking to the people)—for all the manifold favors and bounties which, for five years past, the government has been so assiduously heaping upon their heads. This is their acknowledgment of the extraordinary kindness shown them by the Secretary of the Treasury when he directed our bank to lend these vipers the public money! Biddle and the Barings are at the bottom of this conspiracy; and the merchants of the United States, yes, and the manufacturers and all the moneyed men, would gladly beggar themselves and their families rather than allow us to regulate their currency and make them the happiest people on earth. What unparalleled perfidy!"

After this, the New Lights of course became indignant against the merchants, and held them up, as they deserved, to public execration, as the authors of all our misfortunes. From Quodlibet, this sentiment became general among the New-Light Democrats everywhere. Mr. Van Buren caught the idea; the Globe expatiated upon it; the Stump rang with it; and it soon took its place as one of the cardinal maxims in the New-Light creed. Such is the supremacy of one commanding intellect!

Never was there a topic equal to this in the elections. "The merchants," Theodore Fog very pertinently remarked, "are a first-rate subject for a stump speech: they are a monstrous little knot of fellows, anyhow—and, comparatively speaking, of no sort of account, in the way of voting. Having the handling of a good deal of cash, and plenty to do in the way of giving and taking of promissory notes, you can slap upon them the argument of The Money Power with tremendous effect: you can tickle them with the whip of Aristocracy in perfection; and you can run 'em down with the text of the money-changers in the Temple, and all that sort of thing, to a nicety. Besides, there are so few of them that either can make a speech before the people, or, if they can, will take the trouble to follow a man about for that purpose, that you are not likely to be pestered with their replies. Capital animals for an opposition, they take a lathering so quiet! Then, sir, for every one merchant you lay upon his back, you gain five True Grits to your side. I've studied that out. Our people, I mean the New Lights, can be made to hate a merchant like snakes—because if he does get on well with his business, and makes a little fortune, we can call him a Rag Baron, a Ruffle Shirt, a Scrub Aristocrat,—and that's equal to sending him to the deserts of Arabia: and if he fails, as the greater part of the poor devils do, we can get up a still worse cry against him for turning the humble and honest laborer out of employment, grinding the faces of the poor, depriving the widow and the orphan of their bread, and coining the sweat of the Bone and Sinew's brow to feed Usurers, Brokers, and Shavers. And, by-the-by, these arguments are quite good against manufacturers and Whig master-mechanics. But a merchant, sir, can't hold up his head one moment before them. Every which way, sir, he's a prime scape-goat. Then, sir, when we want to make an EXPERIMENT,—why, of course, we go to the merchants. Here's all this currency business, especially the tail of it, the Sub-Treasury—fine thing to stir up the people with—sounds well in theory, though a little mischievous in practice. Well, sir, we test it on the merchants: we get the popularity, they get the damage. The approved philosophical mode to try a dangerous experiment, is to attempt it on a cat:—sir, The Merchants are our cats."

Mr. Flam, seeing the state of our divisions, took a great deal of trouble to restore harmony into our ranks, and certainly did much to overawe the True Grits, who, now fancying themselves in the ascendent, became very dictatorial. Eliphalet Fox, although he took every occasion to speak in his paper greatly in commendation of Mr. Flam, was, nevertheless, an active upholder of the True-Grit division. "Our worthy representative," he said, "was happily stationed above the influence of these little family quarrels; and it was undoubtedly a subject of congratulation with that distinguished gentleman, that every section of the great Democratic household of Quodlibet could cordially unite the testimonials of their confidence in his talents, his patriotism, and his fidelity to the interests of his constituents."

This paragraph was considered a master-stroke of New-Light Democracy in Eliphalet, because its tendency was to keep him and his paper on good terms with all parties supporting the administration, while it left him free to pursue the paramount objects which the True Grits steadily kept in view.

These objects were the attainment of all the lucrative offices in our district,—a striking exemplification of which now occurred in the celebrated Tigertail affair. That affair my duty as a chronicler requires me to notice.

A secret meeting of the True Grits had been lately held in the Borough. The subject in discussion was a weighty one. It was reported to this conclave that Ferox Tigertail, the marshal of this district, who resided and kept his office in Bickerbray, had in his employment two individuals of suspicious principles. The first was Washington Cutbush, a clerk, who had been overheard to say, at the Sycamore Spring, in a confidential conversation with his brother-in-law, Lemuel Garret, that he began to think Tom Benton's gold currency a HUMBUG! The second was Corney Dust, the porter and firemaker of the office, who, there was reason to believe, had voted at the last election for Agamemnon Flag. Upon these facts being vouched to the meeting by Magnus Morehead, the True Grit shoemaker in the Borough, and Sandy Buttercrop, the express-rider, message-carrier, baggage-porter, and follower of sundry other visible means of livelihood, it was resolved that a committee of three, to consist of Eliphalet Fox, Dr. Winkelman, and Nim Porter, should wait upon Mr. Tigertail, communicate to him the full extent of the charge, and require him, in the name of The Exclusive, New-Light, True-Grit Democrats of Quodlibet, forthwith to dismiss Washington Cutbush from his office, and substitute Magnus Morehead in his place; and also to supersede Corney Dust by the appointment of Sandy Buttercrop.

The committee, in pursuance of these instructions, visited the marshal, and explained the object of their mission in respectful but firm language. Tigertail, being a choleric man, and an old Federalist to boot,—who had been converted to the New-Light faith about eight years ago, at the date of the renewal of his commission,—heard the committee with exemplary composure; and then setting his eyes, with a fixed glare, upon Eliphalet Fox, he waited about ten seconds—at the end of which brief period of deliberation, he kicked the said Eliphalet clean out of his office:—and this being done to his entire satisfaction, he rather testily invited Dr. Winkelman and Nim Porter to follow their chairman. It is due to these two gentlemen to say, that like good committee men, they did so,—even anticipating the marshal's invitation to the adoption of that course of conduct.

This incident being faithfully reported by the committee to the meeting of True Grits, convened for the express purpose of learning the result, it was unanimously resolved,—First, that Tigertail's demeanor was mysterious, equivocal, and unexpected; secondly, that it was unpolite to Eliphalet Fox; and, thirdly, that it was against the principles and usages known to the New-Light Democracy. Another resolution was adopted to lay the whole matter before the President of the United States, and to instruct him, as the Representative of the People, to dismiss Marshal Tigertail, without delay, from his post; and confer it upon the injured Eliphalet Fox, whose kicking entitled him to the deepest sympathy of the party, and gave him, according to a well-established maxim of the New Lights, a right to immediate preferment.

These resolutions imparted great satisfaction to the meeting, and no doubt was entertained that the President would act upon the subject with that promptitude which distinguishes his character. Marshal Tigertail was looked upon as a doomed man, and no better than a Whig; and indeed he was already considered as having joined that party. Dr. Thomas G. Winkelman, Nim Porter, and Dabbs, the compositor, were intrusted with this embassy of instruction to the President;—Eliphalet Fox being left out of the deputation from obvious considerations of delicacy—a sentiment which it must be allowed has ever characterized the proceedings of the True Grits on all occasions, and which many of the most observant and sagacious of that sect have asserted has been the principal cause of the failure of their schemes.

The new deputation lost no time in setting forth upon the execution of their duty. They were attended to the stage coach by a large number of True Grits, who, to use the language of Theodore Fog, "signalized their departure with indignant pomp." Great expectations were indulged on this appeal, or rather this mandate to the President. Day after day passed by without bringing news from the mission:—the Globe was taken from each mail with increased avidity, in the hope of seeing some official announcement of the removal of Tigertail. A provoking silence on that point reigned throughout its columns. Ten days rolled on without a letter from the committee:—a fortnight wore away, and yet none had returned. A traveler at last reported that he had seen Nim Porter at the White Sulphur Springs. It was ascertained that Dr. Winkelman was in the City of New York purchasing drugs for his shop; and upon investigation it was discovered that Dabbs had been at his work in the printing-office, unknown to the Borough, for more than a week. By a singular coincidence of feeling among the True Grits, all curiosity as to the fate of the mission suddenly subsided. The subject was treated with indifference; and in the course of a few days, after both Dr. Winkelman and Nim Porter had returned home, when the Thorough Blue Whole Team put forth a paragraph inquiring after the Tigertail Embassy, the Whole Hog came out with a petulant and snappish reply, affirming that the report of such a mission was a mere Whig lie, coined with a view to political effect, and uttered in the Whole Team simply because "that mendacious and filthy sheet delighted to revel in falsehood, and had never been known to stumble upon the truth, even by accident." Dr. Winkelman studiously avoided all reference to his absence from the Borough, and Nim Porter was equally cautious for about a month; at the expiration of which period Neal Hopper happened to say, in his presence, he had good reason to know that Marshal Tigertail was no favorite with the President, and would be removed from office before the end of the next Congress;—whereupon Nim, very unguardedly and under a sudden, uncontrollable impulse, planted himself before the miller and said,—

"I'll bet you one hundred dollars to ten upon that."

"Well, I 'spose you know?" said Neal, struck by Nim's peremptory manner.

"Conclusively and distinctly," replied Nim with some heat. "If you think Liphalet Fox is going to be the marshal you're mistaken: I know Martin Van Buren," he added with some display of self-importance, "considerably—and I can tell you that he goes the whole figure against rotation in this individual and identical case. He's a Mandarin from snout to tail—trained up from the gum, and wouldn't touch a True Grit with a forty-foot pole. Martin has defined his position emphatically. There can't be a possibility of mistake upon the subject."

"Do you mean to say that you heard him say so?" inquired William Goodlack, the tailor, a strenuous member of the True Grits, looking angrily at Nim.

"That's neither here nor there," replied Nim. "But I'll stand to the bet of one hundred dollars to ten, that Tigertail's not turned out of office this year: you are welcome to take it yourself, Billy Goodlack, if you're a mind for a bet."

"Whoever said Tigertail ought to be turned out?" asked Goodlack, peevishly, "'cepting Neal Hopper, who picked up such a story out of the nine thousand lies of the Whole Team?"

From this little brush with Nim Porter, and from the looks that passed between the parties engaged in it, there was room for the inference that the President didn't give much encouragement to the committee who went to him with instructions to turn out the marshal: and this is nearly everything that has ever transpired in Quodlibet upon that subject. It is very certain that, for some time after this date, the True Grits were not so bold as a party as they had been before. Eliphalet Fox was undoubtedly much chop-fallen during all the following winter.