The evening for the public meeting, which was to decide the all-important question, arrived. The town hall was crowded to its utmost capacity. Mr. Tompkins and his two sons were present, and so was Uncle Dan, the mountaineer. The meeting was called to order and the Mayor took the chair. He was a man past the meridian of life, a slaveholder and a royal Southerner. The long, white beard falling down upon his breast gave him a patriarchal look.
The uproar and confusion of tongues were hushed, and all awaited the speaker in anxious silence.
A call was made on any one present to state the object of the meeting. A man sprang at once to his feet, and succinctly informed the chairman that the "object of this meetin' is to determine the question whether or not it is best to 'low Abraham Lincoln, the great Abolitionist, to speak in the town. I believe them's all the pints to be discussed," and he sat down. Another and more voluble speaker arose and addressed the meeting. He was of the class called "fire-eaters," and was strongly and directly opposed to Lincoln's visit to Snagtown. His speech was replete with the vilest vituperations his brain could conceive, or his tongue utter, against the Republican party. He regarded them as robbers, as enemies who should be shot down at sight, and he was in favor of greeting Abe Lincoln with tar and feathers if he dared show himself in Snagtown.
Several others spoke in the same vein, and then Mr. Diggs rose. His speech of an hour proved not half so long. It was full of empty-sounding words and borrowed ideas, for there was little originality about Mr. Diggs.
All, so far, had been against the proposed debate between Lincoln and Douglas, but now a man rose in the audience whose word always carried weight. It was Mr. Tompkins, the planter.
"Mr. Chairman," he began, in even, modulated tones, "I am, indeed, surprised that men of intelligence should give vent to such expressions and such feelings as we have heard this evening—men who know the law, and claim to be law abiding citizens. Are we savages or border ruffians, that we must be swayed and controlled by mob law? Have we not a Constitution and Constitutional privileges? Have we not statute laws to protect us against wrongs which others may inflict? Then why resort to mob law? Why disgrace our fair State and put the blush of shame on all good citizens by attacking, like outlaws, a stranger among us? Our Constitution gives to all freedom of speech, and we have no right to deny any man this Constitutional privilege."
Mr. Tompkins proceeded quietly but forcibly, pointing out to the malcontents the error of their plans. In conclusion, he said:
"I may be the only one in the house who opposes these views, but as one I say this, though I be alone. I will oppose with violence the attempt to injure Mr. Lincoln. You are not compelled to vote for him, even to hear him speak; but if Mr. Lincoln comes here, by Heaven! he shall speak."
"So say I, an' I swar if any sorry hound attempts the mobbin' business, he'll have to cross my carcass fust." The speaker was Uncle Dan, and as he spoke he drew up his tall figure by the side of Mr. Tompkins, holding his ominous-looking rifle in his hand.
Abner also rose and took his place at his father's side, but Oleah kept his seat. This was the first visible difference of opinion between the brothers.