The Shut Mouth Society

the shut mouth society

Also by James D. Best

The Shopkeeper

Leadville

Murder at Thumb Butte

Tempest at Dawn

Principled Action, Lessons from the Origins of the American Republic

The Digital Organization

Praise for Steve Dancy Titles

 “
You'll find yourself lost in the book—the fast pace keeps it interesting.”—Maritza Barone,
Woman's Day

“
This is a fast paced tale with an interesting hero ... you’ll certainly find enough twists and turns to provide an entertaining and exciting story.”—Western Writers of America, August, 2008

“
The Shopkeeper is quick and fun to read, perfect for a vacation escape.”—
Diane Scearce
,
Nashville Examiner

“
A great book, I do hope that 
The Shopkeeper
 gets the readership it richly deserves.”—Simon Barrett ,
Blogger News Network

“
Once again, Best has penned a fine read.”—C. K. Crigger
,
Roundup Magazine

“
I loved it! The story is told in such a classic, smooth tone--it's really fast paced throughout.”—Jonathon Lyons, Lyons Literary

“
I enjoy Best's style of writing, and it's a quick read.”—BookAdvice.net

“
I would highly recommend these two westerns to anyone with an imagination and curiosity about the history of our country. And besides, they are just excellent reading.”—Holgerson’s Book and Bookstore

“
The Shopkeeper brings a hint of the ‘difference’ that is being called for in westerns, and the story moves along at a fast pace that provides a most enjoyable few hours of relaxation.”—John H. Manhold, Fascinating Authors

Praise for
The Shut Mouth Society

“
The Shut Mouth Society
 is a fast-moving, well-written novel
.”—David M. Kinchen,
Huntington News

“
The author has done an excellent job of building the story. It is a good, quick read with some exciting historical teasers.”—Bookadvice.net

Praise for
Tempest at Dawn

“
If you want to learn about the evolution of one of the greatest documents ever created by man---the Constitution of the United States---relax in your bed, favorite chair or recliner, and enjoy
Tempest At Dawn
.”
—Allen Ball,
Beaufort Observer

“
The author’s ability to flesh out so many characters so effectively makes the book, which could easily have been dry and flavorless, sparkle with subtle verve and wit.”—
Martin Sielaff, What Would the Founders Think?

“
I highly recommend this book
 to anyone who has an interest in our nation’s founding, the principals involved, and in great historical writing.  The research fleshes out the story and makes it informatively entertaining.”—Militant Reviews

“
This is an important story told in a lively fashion. 
Tempest at Dawn
 might be the ideal way of introducing the American public to the gripping story of how our Founding Fathers gave birth to our constitution.”—Jon Bruning, Attorney General, Nebraska

the shut mouth society

James D. Best

The Shut Mouth Society

James D. Best

Published by Queen Beach

Copyright © 2008 James D. Best. All rights reserved.

Discover other titles by James D. Best at

http://www.jamesdbest.com/

Cover photo by Mathew Brady, February 27, 1860

Cover design by Wayne Best

Ebook Library of Congress Control Number: 9781452401751

Print edition published by Wheatmark
^®

610 East Delano Street, Suite 104

Tucson, Arizona 85705 U.S.A.

www.wheatmark.com

International Standard Book Number: 978-1-60494-012-1

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007941144

Prologue

New York City

Monday, February 27, 1860

Amos Cummings cursed his editor.

He hated this assignment. Beyond career objections, it caused him to miss a rare opportunity to take his soon-to-be fiancée to dinner. When he had chosen journalism as a profession, he had had no idea that it would consume so many evenings.

As an abolitionist, he had wanted to influence public opinion, and he had believed that Horace Greeley’s
New York Tribune
would give him an elevated platform. Instead, Greeley had assigned him to cover Thurlow Weed and his political machine. Years of gritty local politics had made Cummings a cynic. Nowadays he was more concerned with starting a family than with changing the country.

This morning, he had asked Greeley for a new assignment: anything different from his old beat. As he climbed aboard the horse-drawn streetcar that would take him up Broadway, he knew haranguing his editor had been a mistake.

Although the packed streetcar rattled and clanged, Cummings thought he overheard one of the other passengers mention Abraham Lincoln. Considering the hour, many of the people on this trolley were probably also heading to the Cooper Union. Tonight’s speaker—and his assignment—was this Abraham Lincoln.

Cummings could not pick up the thread of the conversation. Just as well. He did not need to hear the banter of someone who would pay an exorbitant twenty-five cents to listen to a commonplace politician from some prairie state. Abraham Lincoln had earned a modicum of fame during his debates with Senator Stephen Douglas two years ago, but he had lost that race. Cummings could not see the fledgling Republican Party nominating a loser. How had this rough-hewn storyteller wangled an invitation to a lecture series meant to expose serious candidates to the New York political elite?

The Cooper Union was ablaze with gaslights when Cummings stepped off the trolley. Greeley had reserved him a seat in the front row, so he could hear clearly and report on Lincoln’s address. Still in a foul mood, Cummings merged with the crowd and meandered down the stairs to the Great Hall in the basement. As the crowd jostled him, he noticed that tonight there seemed to be a heightened sense of energy and excitement. The audience would surely be disappointed. Homespun yarns might draw crowds in the bucolic West, but New York City demanded a more elevated style of speech making.

After some salutations with fellow journalists and friends, Cummings took his seat at the side of the auditorium. The hall buzzed with conversations and greetings, and Cummings estimated the crowd at about four hundred, leaving a quarter of the seats empty. Most of the important Republicans in this overwhelmingly Democratic city had bought tickets, but after some rough calculations, he guessed the promoters would be lucky to break even.

The windowless Great Hall felt like a church, with its sixteen massive columns and vaulted ceiling. Red leather swivel chairs rose from front to rear at a slight incline, so everyone could see over people seated in front of them. One hundred and sixty-eight gaslights in crystal chandeliers bounced light off the mirrors that lined both walls to make the room bright as day. The illumination may have been a modern miracle, but the constant hiss from burners sometimes made it difficult to hear a soft-spoken speaker.

In a few minutes, Abraham Lincoln and his hosts emerged from behind a curtain and sat on chairs lined up across the stage. Cummings heard a muted gasp as this gangly, disheveled, and ill-dressed being walked onto the stage with the strangest gait he had ever seen. Lincoln walked with a slouch and took each step with the flat of his foot instead of the heel. When he sat, he wrapped his enormously long legs around the chair and assumed a glum expression that seemed to promise a fire-and-brimstone sermon instead of one of his well-known humorous talks. Cummings looked around and saw dismay on other faces.

Lincoln had provided typeset copies of his speech to the major newspapers, but Cummings had been in a snit, so he had not bothered to read it before leaving the Tribune building. He arranged the text on his lap and made sure his four sharpened pencils were handy in his side pocket. Hopefully, he would need to make few notes and be able to submit his story to the night editor before midnight.

After the introduction, Lincoln walked to the podium with one pant leg caught about two inches above his shoe. He seemed a pathetic creature and, as he began to speak, nothing altered this first impression. He laid his foolscap notes on the gold-tasseled podium and held his hands behind his back. He spoke in a high-pitched monotone voice and made few gestures of note. As Lincoln spoke, Cummings used his finger to follow the text, but he did not bother to note the minor alterations from the typeset copy.

Senator Douglas, more than any other man, had raised the specter of slavery in the territories north of the Mason-Dixon Line, by claiming that the Founding Fathers believed the federal government held no authority to restrict slavery in the territories. Lincoln, presenting a scholarly review of the voting records of the Constitution’s thirty-nine signers, showed that twenty-one of them had voted for bills restricting slavery in territories, and sixteen had left no record. Only two supported the Douglas contention.

Cummings had let the pencil slip onto his lap. He realized that he had been captured by Lincoln’s words. His grammar and diction were flawless, and he artfully used repetition to drive home his points and add levity without resorting to his famed countrified stories.

About five minutes into the speech, Cummings saw a startling transformation. Lincoln made faces, threw his head, and modulated his voice to captivate the audience. When he mimicked the Douglas stentorian style, he not only succeeded in mocking the “little giant,” but caused his audience to laugh uproariously and stomp their feet with abandon.

His speech had started slow, but as it picked up momentum, the energy in the hall lifted until the excited audience waited on the edge of their seats for the next opportunity to clap, yell, and bang out a rhythm with their shoes. Lincoln gave them plenty of opportunities.

Cummings watched Lincoln accentuate his great height by lifting himself on his toes and throwing his arms wide open. “Will you meet us then on the question of whether our principles wrong your region? Do you accept the challenge?” Lincoln snapped back down on his heels, and the Great Hall joined him in shouting, “No!”

“
Then you must believe our principles so wrong as to demand condemnation without a moment’s consideration.”

Cummings looked around as Lincoln waited for the applause and cheering to subside. With wonder, he realized that these jaded New Yorkers liked the man.

Lincoln again used his voice and mannerisms to mock Senator Douglas. “Some of you are for the ‘gur-reat pur-rinciple’ that if one man would enslave another, no third man should object, fantastically called Popular Sovereignty by the gur-reat Senator Douglas.”

Now laughter mixed with applause. Lincoln waited again. When he resumed, he directly addressed the South.