Mark Gildersleeve: A Novel

by John S. Sauzade

It is almost superfluous to mention, that the dinner was all that could be expected, for whatever Mr. Heath's other qualities may have been, good taste he unquestionably possessed, and in the important matter of dinner-giving he was behind no one. And when it is considered how important a part that art has displayed in diplomacy, it could not be denied that his aspirations to shine in that career were not by any means presumptuous. An opinion, it is safe to say, that would have been heartily indorsed by all who were fortunate enough to partake of the memorable repast. Perhaps a little less starched ceremony on the part of the host would not have been amiss; still, that was more than compensated by the quality of the menu. As usual on such extraordinary occasions, an eminent chef from the metropolis directed the culinary operations, and many bottles of old South Side Madeira and choice Hermitage, that had lain for years in dusty racks, were brought to light, and decanted for the delectation of appreciative palates; such a palate, for instance, as a Chief Justice of great legal acumen and good digestion, or a portly ex-Federal dignitary possesses, or even that of a dainty young High-Church ecclesiastic full of zeal and sentiment, like Spencer Abbott. What a fine dinner it was, to be sure! Rather formal and cold, it is true, in the drawing-rooms as the host was receiving his guests. Mrs. Applegate was flushed and fidgety amid such illustrious visitors, and Mr. Mumbie was ill at ease in his capacious white waistcoat, tight gloves, and freshly dyed whiskers. Such grand company impressed him immensely, and for fear of lapsus linguæ, he restricted himself to monosyllabic replies. The Chief Justice, being hungry, was somewhat surly until dinner was announced, when he ponderously and feebly toddled into the dining-room in advance of the other guests, and regardless of Mr. Heath's intention to have him lead Mrs. Applegate in. This duty therefore devolved on the ex-Federal dignitary, who did it with much courtly grace. How well the host presided, and how elegant he appeared! His stately white neck-tie and glossy gray locks were arranged with a precision that was mathematical, and with his small elegant white hands he looked as if he were descended from a long line of partridge-fed ancestors. A worthy pendant, indeed, to the ex-Federal dignitary, whose proudest boast was that he had been complimented by a queen as the most elegant American gentleman she had ever seen. What a contrast the two presented to Judge Hull, with his fell of white hair streaming over his massive head and bent shoulders, his beetling sable brows shading a pair of cavernous eyes, and who always looked as if he were on the bench administering inexorable justice. He certainly did to the dinner, and it was with difficulty that he could be drawn out by the host, and made to enlighten the company with bits of prodigious wisdom. Finnegass, the editor of the Sentinel, who occupied a seat at the farther end of the table, and expected to gather material for a brilliant leader from the table-talk of the assembled sages, was greatly disappointed at the commonplace style of the conversation.

"Heath, this soup's not so bad," quoth the Judge during a short breathing spell; "I'll take another plateful. What do you call it? Potage à la Reine. Ha—queen-pottage, eh? Well-named, verily. A man might well sell his birthright for a mess of such, and not be a fool either."

"Touching the late proceedings in Congress, Judge," edged in Mr. Heath, "you cannot have failed to notice how the breach is gradually widening. There seems to be a disposition on the part of certain members to push matters to extremes, and bring about a rupture at any cost. Don't you think, that an expression of opinion—a decided expression on the part of the higher classes—the respectable and influential part of the community, would go far to—to—"

"This can be arranged and must be," replied the Judge, addressing his plate dogmatically. "The hot-heads of both parties must be made to listen to reason, and the conservative element of the country should at once take the reins. By the bye, this white Burgundy is the same I've tasted here before, is it not? Yquem, you said? A good wine—a very good wine. The field has been left entirely too much to the fanatics of the East and the fire-eaters of the South, and to stop the current of demagogism which threatens to overwhelm us, we need the best efforts of sound sagacious statesmen like our friend here."

The friend referred to by the Judge's fork was the ex-Federal dignitary, who bowed an acknowledgment of the flattering allusion, and with a little deprecatory wave of the hand replied, "No doubt—no doubt, Judge, you are quite right. All that is necessary is to bring the best men of the country together to concerted action, and the matter can be settled without any difficulty. But if we hold aloof—if the great legal lights, such gentlemen as yourself or our friend Mr. Heath; or the heads of finance, as represented by our friend on my left, Mr. Bawbee; or the masterminds of the manufacturing and industrial interests, such as our friend Mr. Mumbie; in short, if the intellect and wealth and respectability of the nation do not interfere, and continue to permit men like Sumner and Seward to persist in their incendiary leadership, we may—I say it without hesitation and with great regret—we may expect any catastrophe."

Mr. Mumbie, who had been listening with awe and attention to the words of the great men in whose presence he was, reddened with modest confusion on being designated as a master-mind. He had never taken exactly that view of himself, but on reflection, concluded it to be an eminently fit and proper one, and felt that the world had much to answer for in having so greatly underrated him hitherto. "I quite agree with you. I do indeed, sir. Your remarks are very correct, sir; very correct indeed, I assure you, sir," spoke he, feeling that he ought to say something to keep up his reputation of a master-mind.

Finnegass, the editor, emboldened by generous wine, ventured to remark: "In my article in last Monday's Sentinel, I alluded to this very subject, and put it in rather forcible terms to the—" But he was cut short by the Judge, who, being at leisure between courses, resumed his harangue: "The proper way to settle this trouble is very simple. It can be arranged with very little difficulty. I am quite confident of that, and speak advisedly. All that is necessary is a conference of the patriotic intellects from all sections North and South, East and West, to restore harmony to the councils of our country. Of course, forbearance is indispensable, and a spirit of conciliation should preside over all deliberations, and—this paté has the appearance of being very fine—very fine. I'll take some more of the truffles."

"I wrote an article which created—" again attempted Finnegass.

"Mr. Bawbee, a glass of wine with you, if you please," said the host, adroitly checking the editor, and nodding gracefully to the financier. Mr. Bawbee was a Western banker, of Scotch birth, who had made no end of pelf by starting banks and issuing paper money. He took the floor, figuratively speaking, and predicted the dismemberment of the Union. Mr. Bawbee being a shrewd, hard-headed Scot, had an opinion of his own. "It'll never do in the world, Judge. The matter has gone too far. Mark my words, gentlemen, you'll see the States divided into three confederacies, and that within two years. I know the sentiments and temper of the Western people, and if the South secedes, which it doubtless will, the West will sever their connection with the East. In my section they deem their interests more closely identified with those of the South, than with the manufacturing East, and will never permit the mouth of the Mississippi, their great natural highway, to pass into the control of a foreign people, hence it is not improbable that in certain eventualities they would join hands with the South; but I am inclined to believe, as I mentioned at first, that the upshot will be a division into three confederations, and perhaps, as the Pacific States grow in importance, into four."

"Tut—tut, Mr. Bawbee," interrupted Mr. Justice Hull, "all those minor differences and territorial jealousies can be reconciled. As I have before stated, a well-selected conference could settle the vexed question in a short time. Get the right men together, and I have, no doubt as to the result."