_Twenty-five_
THE CAMPAIGN
Mr. Easterly sat in Mrs. Vanderpool's apartments in the New Willard,Washington, drinking tea. His hostess was saying rather carelessly:
"Do you know, Mr. Vanderpool has developed a quite unaccountable likingfor the idea of being Ambassador to France?"
"Dear me!" mildly exclaimed Mr. Easterly, helping himself liberally tocakes. "I do hope the thing can be managed, but--"
"What are the difficulties?" Mrs. Vanderpool interrupted.
"Well, first and foremost, the difficulty of electing our man."
"I thought that a foregone conclusion."
"It was. But do you know that we're encountering opposition from themost unexpected source?"
The lady was receptive, and the speaker concluded:
"The Negroes."
"The Negroes!"
"Yes. There are five hundred thousand or more black voters in pivotalNorthern States, you know, and they're in revolt. In a close electionthe Negroes of New York, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois choose thePresident."
"What's the matter?"
"Well, business interests have driven our party to make friends with theSouth. The South has disfranchised Negroes and lynched a few. Thedarkies say we've deserted them."
Mrs. Vanderpool laughed.
"What extraordinary penetration," she cried.
"At any rate," said Mr. Easterly, drily, "Mr. Vanderpool's first steptoward Paris lies in getting the Northern Negroes to vote the Republicanticket. After that the way is clear."
Mrs. Vanderpool mused.
"I don't suppose you know any one who is acquainted with any number ofthese Northern darkies?" continued Mr. Easterly.
"Not on my calling-list," said Mrs. Vanderpool, and then she added morethoughtfully:
"There's a young clerk in the Treasury Department named Alwyn who hasbrains. He's just from the South, and I happened to read of him thismorning--see here."
Mr. Easterly read an account of the speech at the Bethel Literary.
"We'll look this young man up," he decided; "he may help. Of course,Mrs. Vanderpool, we'll probably win; we can buy these Negroes off with alittle money and a few small offices; then if you will use yourinfluence for the part with the Southerners, I can confidently predictfrom four to eight years' sojourn in Paris."
Mrs. Vanderpool smiled and called her maid as Mr. Easterly went.
"Zora!" She had to call twice, for Zora, with widened eyes, was readingthe Washington Post.
Meantime in the office of Senator Smith, toward which Mr. Easterly wasmaking his way, several members of the National Republican campaigncommittee had been closeted the day before.
"Now, about the niggers," the chairman had asked; "how much more boodledo they want?"
"That's what's bothering us," announced a member; "it isn't the boodlecrowd that's hollering, but a new set, and I don't understand them; Idon't know what they represent, nor just how influential they are."
"What can I do to help you?" asked Senator Smith.
"This. You are here at Washington with these Negro office-holders atyour back. Find out for us just what this revolt is, how far it goes,and what good men we can get to swing the darkies into line--see?"
"Very good," the Senator acquiesced. He called in a spectacled man withbushy eyebrows and a sleepy look.
"I want you to work the Negro political situation," directed theSenator, "and bring me all the data you can get. Personally, I'm at sea.I don't understand the Negro of today at all; he puzzles me; he doesn'tfit any of my categories, and I suspect that I don't fit his. See whatyou can find out."
The man went out, and the Senator turned to his desk, then paused andsmiled. One day, not long since, he had met a colored person whopersonified his perplexity concerning Negroes; she was a lady, yet shewas black--that is, brown; she was educated, even cultured, yet shetaught Negroes; she was quiet, astute, quick and diplomatic--everything,in fact, that "Negroes" were not supposed to be; and yet she was a"Negro." She had given him valuable information which he had sought invain elsewhere, and the event proved it correct. Suppose he askedCaroline Wynn to help him in this case? It would certainly do no harmand it might elect a Republican president. He wrote a short letter withhis own hand and sent it to post.
Miss Wynn read the letter after Alwyn's departure with a distinct thrillwhich was something of a luxury for her. Evidently she was coming toher kingdom. The Republican boss was turning to her for confidentialinformation.
"What do the colored people want, and who can best influence them inthis campaign?"
She curled up on the ottoman and considered. The first part of the querydid not bother her.
"Whatever they want they won't get," she said decisively.
But as to the man or men who could influence them to believe that theywere getting, or about to get, what they wanted--there was a question.One by one she considered the men she knew, and, by a process ofelimination, finally arrived at Bles Alwyn.
Why not take this young man in hand and make a Negro leader of him--aprotagonist of ten millions? It would not be unpleasant. But could shedo it? Would he be amenable to her training and become worldly wise? Sheflattered herself that he would, and yet--there was a certain steadfastlook in the depths of his eyes that might prove to be sheerstubbornness. At any rate, who was better? There was a fellow,Stillings, whom Alwyn had introduced and whom she had heard of. Now hewas a politician--but nothing else. She dismissed him. Of course,there was the older set of office-holders and rounders. But she wasdetermined to pick a new man. He was worth trying, at any rate; she knewnone other with the same build, the brains, the gifts, the adorableyouth. Very good. She wrote two letters, and then curled up to her noveland candy.
Next day Senator Smith held Miss Wynn's letter unopened in his hand whenMr. Easterly entered. They talked of the campaign and various matters,until at last Easterly said:
"Say, there's a Negro clerk in the Treasury named Alwyn."
"I know him--I had him appointed."
"Good. He may help us. Have you seen this?"
The Senator read the clipping.
"I hadn't noticed it--but here's my agent."
The spectacled man entered with a mass of documents. He had papers,posters, programmes, and letters.
"The situation is this," he said. "A small group of educated Negroes aretrying to induce the rest to punish the Republican Party for notprotecting them. These men are not politicians, nor popular leaders, butthey have influence and are using it. The old-style Negro politiciansare no match for them, and the crowd of office-holders are ratherbewildered. Strong measures are needed. Educated men of earnestness andability might stem the tide. And I believe I know one such man. He spokeat a big meeting last night at the Metropolitan church. His name isAlwyn."
Senator Smith listened as he opened the letter from Caroline Wynn. Thenhe started.
"Well!" he ejaculated, looking quickly up at Easterly. "This ispositively uncanny. From three separate sources the name of Alwyn popsup. Looks like a mascot. Call up the Treasury. Let's have him up whenthe sub-committee meets to-morrow."
Bles Alwyn hurried up to Senator Smith's office, hoping to hearsomething about the school; perhaps even about--but he stopped with asigh, and sat down in the ante-room. He was kept waiting a few momentswhile Senator Smith, the chairman, and one other member of thesub-committee had a word.
"Now, I don't know the young man, mind you," said the Senator; "but he'sstrongly recommended."
"What shall we offer him?" asked the chairman.
"Try him at twenty-five dollars a speech. If he balks, raise to fiftydollars, but no more."
They summoned the young man. The chairman produced cigars.
"I don't smoke," said Bles apologetically.
"Well, we haven't anything to drink," said the chairman. But SenatorSmith broke in, taking up at once the paramount interest.
"Mr. Alwyn, as you know, the Democrats are making an effort to get theNegro vote in this
campaign. Now, I know the disadvantages and wrongswhich black men in this land are suffering. I believe the Republicansought to do more to defend them, and I'm satisfied they will; but Idoubt if the way to get Negro rights is to vote for those who took themaway."
"I agree with you perfectly," said Bles.
"I understand you do, and that you made an unusually fine speech on thesubject the other night."
"Thank you, sir." This was a good deal more than Bles had expected, andhe was embarrassed.
"Well, now, we think you're just the man to take the stump duringSeptember and October and convince the colored people of their realinterests."
"I doubt if I could, sir; I'm not a speaker. In fact, that was my firstpublic speech."
"So much the better. Are you willing to try?"
"Why, yes, sir; but I could hardly afford to give up my position."
"We'll arrange for a leave of absence."
"Then I'll try, sir."
"What would you expect as pay?"
"I suppose my salary would stop?"
"I mean in addition to that."
"Oh, nothing, sir; I'd be glad to do the work."
The chairman nearly choked; sitting back, he eyed the young man. Eitherthey were dealing with a fool, or else a very astute politician. If theformer, how far could they trust him; if the latter, what was his game?
"Of course, there'll be considerable travelling," the chairman ventured,looking reflectively out of the window.
"Yes, sir, I suppose so."
"We might pay the railroad fare."
"Thank you, sir. When shall I begin?"
The chairman consulted his calendar.
"Suppose you hold yourself in readiness for one week from today."
"All right," and Bles rose. "Good-day, gentlemen."
But the chairman was still puzzled.
"Now, what's his game?" he asked helplessly.
"He may be honest," offered Senator Smith, contemplating the door almostwistfully.
The campaign progressed. The National Republican Committee said littleabout the Negro revolt and affected to ignore it. The papers weresilent. Underneath this calm, however, the activity was redoubled. Theprominent Negroes were carefully catalogued, written to, and put underpersonal influence. The Negro papers were quietly subsidized, and theybegan to ridicule and reproach the new leaders.
As the Fall progressed, mass-meetings were held in Washington and thesmall towns. Larger and larger ones were projected, and more and moreAlwyn was pushed to the front. He was developing into a most effectivespeaker. He had the voice, the presence, the ideas, and above all he wasintensely in earnest. There were other colored orators with voice,presence, and eloquence; but their people knew their record anddiscounted them. Alwyn was new, clear, and sincere, and the black folkhung on his words. Large and larger crowds greeted him until he was thecentral figure in a half dozen great negro mass-meetings in the chiefcities of the country, culminating in New York the night beforeelection. Perhaps the secret newspaper work, the personal advice ofemployers and friends, and the liberal distribution of cash, would havedelivered a large part of the Negro vote to the Republican candidate.Perhaps--but there was a doubt. With the work of Alwyn, however, alldoubt disappeared, and there was little reason for denying that the newPresident walked into the White House through the instrumentality of anunknown Georgia Negro, little past his majority. This is what SenatorSmith said to Mr. Easterly; what Miss Wynn said to herself; and it waswhat Mrs. Vanderpool remarked to Zora as Zora was combing her hair onthe Wednesday after election.
Zora murmured an indistinct response. As already something of the beautyof the world had found question and answer in her soul, and as she beganto realize how the world had waxed old in thought and stature, so now intheir last days a sense of the power of men, as set over against theimmensity and force of their surroundings, became real to her. She hadbegun to read of the lives and doing of those called great, and in hermind a plan was forming. She saw herself standing dim within theshadows, directing the growing power of a man: a man who would be greatas the world counted greatness, rich, high in position,powerful--wonderful because his face was black. He would never see her;never know how she worked and planned, save perhaps at last, in thatsupreme moment as she passed, her soul would cry to his, "Redeemed!" Andhe would understand.
All this she was thinking and weaving; not clearly and definitely, butin great blurred clouds of thought of things as she said slowly:
"He should have a great position for this."
"Why, certainly," Mrs. Vanderpool agreed, and then curiously: "What?"
Zora considered. "Negroes," she said, "have been Registers of theTreasury, and Recorders of Deeds here in Washington, and Douglas wasMarshal; but I want Bles--" she paused and started again. "Those are notgreat enough for Mr. Alwyn; he should have an office so important thatNegroes would not think of leaving their party again."
Mrs. Vanderpool took pains to repeat Zora's words to Mr. Easterly. Heconsidered the matter.
"In one sense, it's good advice," he admitted; "but there's the South toreckon with. I'll think it over and speak to the President. Oh, yes; I'mgoing to mention France at the same time."
Mrs. Vanderpool smiled and leaned back in her carriage. She noted withconsiderable interest the young colored woman who was watching her fromthe sidewalk: a brown, well-appearing young woman of notableself-possession. Caroline Wynn scrutinized Mrs. Vanderpool because shehad been speaking with Mr. Easterly, and Mr. Easterly was a figure ofpolitical importance. That very morning Miss Wynn had telegraphed BlesAlwyn. Alwyn arrived at Washington just as the morning papers heraldedthe sweeping Republican victory. All about he met new deference and newfriends; strangers greeted him familiarly on the street; Sam Stillingsbecame his shadow; and when he reported for work his chief and fellowclerks took unusual interest in him.
"Have you seen Senator Smith yet?" Miss Wynn asked after a few words ofcongratulation.
"No. What for?"
"What for?" she answered. "Go to him today; don't fail. I shall be athome at eight tonight."
It seemed to Bles an exceedingly silly thing to do--calling on a busyman with no errand; but he went. He decided that he would just thank theSenator for his interest, and get out; or, if the Senator was busy, hewould merely send in his card. Evidently the Senator was busy, for hiswaiting-room was full. Bles handed the card to the secretary with a wordof apology, but the secretary detained him.
"Ah, Mr. Alwyn," he said affably; "glad to see you. The Senator willwant to see you, I know. Wait just a minute." And soon Bles was shakingSenator Smith's hand.
"Well, Mr. Alwyn," said the Senator heartily, "you delivered the goods."
"Thank you, sir. I tried to."
Senator Smith thoughtfully looked him over and drew out the letters.
"Your friends, Mr. Alwyn," he said, adjusting his glasses, "have arather high opinion of you. Here now is Stillings, who helped on thecampaign. He suggests an eighteen-hundred-dollar clerkship for you." TheSenator glanced up keenly and omitted to state what Stillings suggestedfor himself. Alwyn was visibly grateful as well as surprised.
"I--I hoped," he began hesitatingly, "that perhaps I might get apromotion, but I had not thought of a first-class clerkship."
"H'm." Senator Smith leaned back and twiddled his thumbs, staring atAlwyn until the hot blood darkened his cheeks. Then Bles sat up andstared politely but steadily back. The Senator's eyes dropped and he putout his hand for the second note.
"Now, your friend, Miss Wynn"--Alwyn started--"is even more ambitious."He handed her letter to the young man, and pointed out the words.
"Of course, Senator," Bles read, "we expect Mr. Alwyn to be the nextRegister of the Treasury."
Bles looked up in amazement, but the Senator reached for a third letter.The room was very still. At last he found it. "This," he announcedquietly, "is from a man of great power and influence, who has the ear ofthe new President." He smoothed out the letter, paused briefly, the
nread aloud:
"'It has been suggested to me by'"--the Senator did not read the name;if he had "Mrs. Vanderpool" would have meant little to Alwyn--"'It hasbeen suggested to me by blank that the future allegiance of the Negrovote to the Republican Party might be insured by giving to someprominent Negro a high political position--for instance, Treasurer ofthe United States'--salary, six thousand dollars," interpolated SenatorSmith--"'and that Alwyn would be a popular and safe appointment for thatposition.'"
The Senator did not read the concluding sentence, which ran: "Think thisover; we can't touch political conditions in the South; perhaps this sopwill do."
For a long time Alwyn sat motionless, while the Senator said nothing.Then the young man rose unsteadily.
"I don't think I quite grasp all this," he said as he shook hands."I'll think it over," and he went out.
When Caroline Wynn heard of that extraordinary conversation heramazement knew no bounds. Yet Alwyn ventured to voice doubts:
"I'm not fitted for either of those high offices; there are many otherswho deserve more, and I don't somehow like the idea of seeming to haveworked hard in the campaign simply for money or fortune. You see, Italked against that very thing."
Miss Wynn's eyes widened.
"Well, what else--" she began and then changed. "Mr. Alwyn, the linebetween virtue and foolishness is dim and wavering, and I should hate tosee you lost in that marshy borderland. By a streak of extraordinaryluck you have gained the political leadership of Negroes in America.Here's your chance to lead your people, and here you stand blinking andhesitating. Be a man!"
Alwyn straightened up and felt his doubts going. The evening passed verypleasantly.
"I'm going to have a little dinner for you," said Miss Wynn finally, andAlwyn grew hot with pleasure. He turned to her suddenly and said:
"Why, I'm rather--black." She expressed no surprise but saidreflectively:
"You _are_ dark."
"And I've been given to understand that Miss Wynn and her setrather--well, preferred the lighter shades of colored folk."
Miss Wynn laughed lightly.
"My parents did," she said simply. "No dark man ever entered theirhouse; they were simply copying the white world. Now I, as a matter ofaesthetic beauty, prefer your brown-velvet color to a jaundiced yellow,or even an uncertain cream; but the world doesn't."
"The world?"
"Yes, the world; and especially America. One may be Chinese, Spaniard,even Indian--anything white or dirty white in this land, and demanddecent treatment; but to be Negro or darkening toward it unmistakablymeans perpetual handicap and crucifixion."
"Why not, then, admit that you draw the color-line?"
"Because I don't; but the world does. I am not prejudiced as my parentswere, but I am foresighted. Indeed, it is a deep ethical query, is itnot, how far one has the right to bear black children to the world inthe Land of the Free and the home of the brave. Is it fair--to thechildren?"
"Yes, it is!" he cried vehemently. "The more to take up the fight, thesurer the victory."
She laughed at his earnestness.
"You are refreshing," she said. "Well, we'll dine next Tuesday, andwe'll have the cream of our world to meet you."
He knew that this was a great triumph. It flattered his vanity. Afterall, he was entering this higher dark world whose existence had piquedand puzzled him so long. He glanced at Miss Wynn beside him there in thedimly lighted parlor: she looked so aloof and unapproachable, sohandsome and so elegant. He thought how she would complete a house--sucha home as his prospective four or six thousand dollars a year couldeasily purchase. She saw him surveying her, and she smiled at him.
"I find but one fault with you," she said.
He stammered for a pretty speech, but did not find it before shecontinued:
"Yes--you are so delightfully primitive; you will not use the world asit is but insist on acting as if it were something else."
"I am not sure I understand."
"Well, there is the wife of my Judge: she is a fact in my world; inyours she is a problem to be stated, straightened, and solved. If shehad come to you, as she did to me yesterday, with her theory that allthat Southern Negroes needed was to learn how to make good servants andlay brick--"
"I should have shown her--" Bles tried to interject.
"Nothing of the sort. You would have tried to show her and would havefailed miserably. She hasn't learned anything in twenty years."
"But surely you didn't join her in advocating that ten million people bemenials?"
"Oh, no; I simply listened."
"Well, there was no harm in that; I believe in silence at times."
"Ah! but I did not listen like a log, but positively and eloquently;with a nod, a half-formed word, a comment begun, which she finished."
Bles frowned.
"As a result," continued Miss Wynn, "I have a check for five hundreddollars to finish our cooking-school and buy a cast of Minerva for theassembly-room. More than that, I have now a wealthy friend. She thinksme an unusually clever person who, by a process of thought not unlikeher own, has arrived at very similar conclusions."
"But--but," objected Bles, "if the time spent cajoling fools were usedin convincing the honest and upright, think how much we would gain."
"Very little. The honest and upright are a sad minority. Most of thesewhite folk--believe me, boy," she said caressingly,--"are fools andknaves: they don't want truth or progress; they want to keep niggersdown."
"I don't believe it; there are scores, thousands, perhaps millions such,I admit; but the average American loves justice and right, and he is theone to whom I appeal with frankness and truth. Great heavens! don't youlove to be frank and open?"
She narrowed her eyelids.
"Yes, sometimes I do; once I was; but it's a luxury few of us Negroescan afford. Then, too, I insist that it's jolly to fool them."
"Don't you hate the deception?"
She chuckled and put her head to one side.
"At first I did; but, do you know, now I believe I prefer it."
He looked so horrified that she burst out laughing. He laughed too. Shewas a puzzle to him. He kept thinking what a mistress of a mansion shewould make.
"Why do you say these things?" he asked suddenly.
"Because I want you to do well here in Washington."
"General philanthropy?"
"No, special." Her eyes were bright with meaning.
"Then you care--for me?"
"Yes."
He bent forward and cast the die.
"Enough to marry me?"
She answered very calmly and certainly:
"Yes."
He leaned toward her. And then between him and her lips a dark andshadowy face; two great storm-swept eyes looked into his out of a worldof infinite pain, and he dropped his head in hesitation and shame, andkissed her hand. Miss Wynn thought him delightfully bashful.
The Quest of the Silver Fleece: A Novel Page 26