Chapter
Three (Continued)
Andrew
Stevens
January 1911
John launches into the story. “Well, the pot started to
boil when word slipped out that the pros wanted to hand a bonus victory or
two to
Governor Campbell before he left office. The pros of both houses held
late night caucuses last Monday to devise ways to outwit the new
governor.”
“Not only were they going to try to push through the
‘daylight’ bill for saloons,” continues Mr. Fred Goeth, “but Governor
Campbell also was advocating major increases in funding for the attorney
general’s office, half of which would be used for the enforcement of
anti-trust laws targeting the brewing industry. Of course, the
Governor-Elect let it be known that he would veto any such legislation.”
“For a while, it appeared like we would be squashed by the
prohibition steam-roller,” says John as he smacks his hands together.
“Aye, and there was a wee bit of vote padding going on somewhere in the
House; although it might have taken place on both the wet and the dry
sides of the aisle. On the first count, the number of votes cast for the
speaker’s race totaled three more than the number of representatives
present. After much furious pounding of the gavel and another roll call,
Sam Rayburn finally emerged as the winner of that race.”
“Which is a victory of sorts,” points out Mr. Koehler. “He
is far more sympathetic to our needs than
Gilmore.”
“Then there were more late night caucuses,” interjects Mr.
C.A. Goeth.
“In my opinion, this is when Governor Campbell’s men
started to trample upon the law,” says Mr. Fred Goeth. “The law reads
that the new governor ‘shall be inaugurated on the second Tuesday in
January, or as soon after as practical.’ Well, through the years, it has
always been practical do so on the second Tuesday. But they deemed it not
so this year. They schemed up ways to keep Governor Campbell in office
until they could plop the bills they wanted on his desk for signature.
And the first one on their agenda was the one Representative Brownlee
dreamed up – the ‘ten-mile bill’ that would shut down every saloon in the
big cities.”
Andy finds the political intrigue so fascinating that he
has trouble concentrating on taking notes.
“The art of the filibuster has never been finer than that
exhibited by our distinguished Senators this past week,” opines John.
“The highest compliment possible coming from an Irishman
with a tongue like yours,” the Colonel quips.
John accepts the ribbing without protest, perhaps even
regarding it as a compliment, and continues, “Senator Meachum requested
the reading of a voluminous prison bill and blatantly stated that there
was a large stock of bills of similar length at hand, including the
penitentiary reform bill that makes the Bible look like a short story.”
Mr. Fred Goeth takes over the tale. “On Tuesday, the day
we expected to be exchanging toasts at the inaugural ball, Governor
Campbell should have delivered his parting words to the legislature.
Instead, he read a treatise more than 70 typewritten pages in length that
sounded more like the agenda for a newly-elected governor. His wish list
included more than just his defeated liquor legislation. It included the
two-cent fare law, a law that would require newspapers to reveal the
identity of their stockholders and a new stab aimed directly at you – a
law prohibiting breweries from contributing to campaign funds. This law
defined breweries in the broadest possible terms. No corporation or any
person connected to the sale of liquor in any way could contribute to
candidates running for public office.” He pauses to take a sip of the
beer before him.
“That sanctimonious East Texas puritan absolutely cannot
arbitrarily single out our industry,” fumes Mr. Koehler.
“On Friday, after an absurdly spirited contest for the
office of Chaplain, the House finally was declared ‘organized’ and ready
for business,” explains John. “Then
Chester Terrell stepped up to the plate to interfere with the
Campbellistic tyranny reigning over Austin. He demanded that the first
bill introduced be read in its entirety.”
“The bad news is,” interjects Mr. C.A. Goeth, “is that
Speaker Rayburn put 20 pros and only one anti on the committee on
constitutional amendments. This means we definitely will end up with a
bill mandating a statewide election on prohibition.”
“You would be proud of the antis in the Senate, though,”
says Mr. Fred Goeth. “They carried on their filibustering until almost 2
o’clock Friday morning. The Old Militia Bill proved to be a particularly
heavy one someone dug up to eat away the night. The pros finally began to
concede that they would have to permit the inauguration to go forward.”
“The homespun crowd sank to a new low in the House on
Friday the 13th,” says John. “That fool molasses-maker from Upshur
County, W.O. Stamps, stood up and introduced a resolution designed to,
quite literally, take all the spirit out of the inaugural ball. Claimed
the home of the Texas Legislature was too sacred a place for dancing or
drinking. He then began railing against the evils of dancing. Dancing?
Why he says dancing encourages men to don the devil’s swallow-tailed coats
and ladies to appear in public in low-neck and, heaven forbid,
short-sleeved dresses. You will be pleased to know that the devil ruled
the day.”
The Colonel responds with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“With all the recent ballgown discussions I have had to endure between my
wife and daughters, I would hate to have to send them back to their
dressmakers. I do not even understand the language they speak. They
throw out phrases like ‘trimmed in passamenterie’ and ask my
opinion. My opinion is that, if it sounds French, it is too expensive.
But John, wait until the dressmaker’s bills arrive at your door. My
little Ottie is green with envy. She says her ‘pink marquisette
over satin,’ whatever that is, pales next to your Eleanor’s gown, cut from
cloth of gold and adorned with silver and gold embroidery.”
“Colonel, I am just plumb happy we have a ball to attend.
And that, fortunately, several of our daughters are still too young to go
with us,” adds John. “Our new Governor will have no such bill for gowns
to foot.
Alex Sanger of Dallas delivered a $500 gown for Mrs. Colquitt to wear,
and
George Littlefield of Austin presented him with a splendid team of
horses. Now the pros are whining about the gifts the new Governor is
receiving and quoting the Bible like it was the law of the land: ‘And thou
shalt take no gift, for the gift blindeth the wise and perverteth’
something or other. They actually tried to include that verse from
Exodus as part of a resolution. Although, I have heard rumors that
both Mr. Sanger and Mr. Littlefield lust to serve on the University of
Texas Board of Regents. Who gave
Governor Colquitt an automobile? I do hope it is someone in this
room.”
“What?,” asks Mr. Koehler. “Is it not enough that we
bought him the election? Our contributions are being acknowledged,
though, by the fact that our new Governor is making Otto the Lieutenant
Colonel of his staff.”
“Andy, do not include those remarks in your notes, please,”
cautions Mr. Fred Goeth, mindful of his role as one of the brewery’s
attorneys. “Back to the glories of the filibuster. The House Committee
on Liquor Traffic convened and was ready to put forward the ‘daylight’
bill. In the Senate, however, the ‘daylight’ bill was seemingly never
going to see daylight. Our good friend Senator Q.U. Watson was in the
chair for much of the session, and his rulings were marvelous. Senator
Hume had introduced a lengthy, musty old bill about reorganizing the
National Guard, which, of course, had to be read into the record. The
pros were doing everything they possibly could to secure recognition from
Senator Watson. Recognition would represent a suspension of the pending
business and would have provided an opportunity for the introduction of
the liquor bills. Senator McManus at one point shouted that he was in
favor of keeping everybody there for two weeks if it would take that long
to whip them.”
“Senator Austin even tried to introduce a seemingly
harmless resolution,” says Mr. C.A. Goeth, “to present the flag that had
covered Stephen F. Austin’s casket to the Daughters of the Republic. No
luck. Senator Watson would not budge. Senator Bryan tried to threaten
the chair by warning that Senator Watson’s name would be on the lips of
all the good people of Texas tomorrow, and what they were saying would not
be polite.”
“That old Watson did not so much as dignify him with a
reply. He just calmly leaned back in his chair,” explains John as he
leans back in his chair and demonstrates with his lit cigar, “drew deeply
on his cigar and slowly… and deliberately… puffed out a huge cloud of
smoke. He said he would entertain no motions other than one to
adjourn until after Governor Colquitt has been inaugurated.”
“The pros,” continues Mr. Fred Goeth, “then tried a
different ploy. They presented a petition to
Lieutenant Governor Davidson saying Senator Watson was usurping the
power of the chair and tramping on their constitutional rights by not
recognizing them. At first, it appeared their strategy might work. The
Lieutenant Governor relieved Senator Watson of the chair.”
“But, lo and behold,” interjects Mr. C.A. Goeth, “the
Lieutenant Governor ruled that dispensing with the reading of the bill
would not be constitutional. He assured Senator Watson that he was
presiding properly and promptly returned the gavel to him.”
“The bickering continued, and the Lieutenant Governor had
to return to the chair several times on one trumped up, from a wet point
of view, charge or another,” says Mr. Fred Goeth. “Things were beginning
to look rather bleak for us, but then the distinguished Senator Murray
rose up with a long-winded speech that meandered extensively through the
subjects of history and literature rather than addressing anything before
the Senate. He finally yielded to a motion to adjourn until Tuesday, a
motion that did not pass.”
John jumps up out of his chair. “The pros leapt out of
their chairs like jackrabbits with their tails on fire. They were yelling
at the Chair and flailing their arms to obtain recognition. In his
infinite wisdom, however, Senator Watson called on Senator Austin, who has
an ample supply of Texas history and lore stored up that he was more than
willing to share with his colleagues.”
(Click below to read the conclusion of Chapter 3....)
Conclusion of
Chapter 3
copyright 2007, Gayle Brennan Spencer
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