Tennessees Partner | Page 3

I am indebted for the authority for some of these
statements, - Chamberlain's journal.
From this simple material the imagination of Bret Harte spun the
characters, incidents, and motives that his genius wove into an
exquisite fabric, an idyl of blind, unreasoning love of man for man. He
was not writing history; and the complaint of those who were part of
the life he depicted, that he misstated the facts, rests on the same failure
to appreciate his purpose and method that leads Eastern and English
critics to consider his realism reality and to mistake his verisimilitude
for the truth itself. The fact is that Bret Harte was a consummate
literary artist, who used facts with all an artist's freedom. His genius
"imbalm'd and treasur'd up on purpose to a life beyond life," however,
many an actual incident that otherwise would lie buried 'neath the
poppy that the iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth.
William Dallam Armes.

Tennessee's Partner

I do not think that we ever knew his real name. Our ignorance of it
certainly never gave us any social inconvenience, for at Sandy Bar in
1854 most men were christened anew. Sometimes these appellatives
were derived from some distinctiveness of dress, as in the case of
"Dungaree Jack"; or from some peculiarity of habit, as shown in
"Saleratus Bill," so called from an undue proportion of that chemical in
his daily bread; or from some unlucky slip, as exhibited in "The Iron
Pirate," a mild, inoffensive man, who earned that baleful title by his
unfortunate mispronunciation of the term "iron pyrites." Perhaps this
may have been the beginning of a rude heraldry; but I am constrained
to think that it was because a man's real name in that day rested solely
upon his own unsupported statement. "Call yourself Clifford, do you?"
said Boston, addressing a timid newcomer with infinite scorn; "hell is
full of such Cliffords! "He then introduced the unfortunate man, whose
name happened to be really Clifford, as "Jaybird Charley," - an
unhallowed inspiration of the moment that clung to him ever after.
But to return to Tennessee's Partner, whom we never knew by any
other than this relative title; that he had ever existed as a separate and
distinct individuality we only learned later. It seems that in 1853 he left

Poker Flat to go to San Francisco, ostensibly to procure a wife. He
never got any farther than Stockton. At that place he was attracted by a
young person who waited upon the table at the hotel where he took his
meals. One morning he said something to her which caused her to
smile not unkindly, to somewhat coquettishly break a plate of toast
over his upturned, serious, simple face, and to retreat to the kitchen. He
followed her, and emerged a few moments later, covered with more
toast and victory. That day week they were married by a Justice of the
Peace, and returned to Poker Flat. I am aware that something more
might be made of this episode, but I prefer to tell it as it was current at
Sandy Bar, - in the gulches and barrooms, - where all sentiment was
modified by a strong sense of humor.
Of their married felicity but little is known, perhaps for the reason that
Tennessee, then living with his partner, one day took occasion to say
something to the bride on his own account, at which, it is said, she
smiled not unkindly, and chastely retreated, this time as far as
Marysville, where Tennessee followed her, and where they went to
housekeeping without the aid of a Justice of the Peace. Tennessee's
Partner took the loss of his wife simply and seriously, as was his
fashion. But to everybody's surprise, when Tennessee one day returned
from Marysville, without his partner's wife, - she having smiled and
retreated with somebody else, - Tennessee's Partner was the first man to
shake his hand and greet him with affection. The boys who had
gathered in the cañon to see the shooting were naturally indignant.
Their indignation might have found vent in sarcasm but for a certain
look in Tennessee's Partner's eye that indicated a lack of humorous
appreciation. In fact, he was a grave man, with a steady application to
practical detail which was unpleasant in a difficulty.
Meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown up on the
Bar. He was known to be a gambler; he was suspected to be a thief. In
these suspicions Tennessee's Partner was equally compromised; his
continued intimacy with Tennessee after the affair above quoted could
only be accounted for on the hypothesis of a copartnership of crime. At
last Tennessee's guilt became flagrant. One day he overtook a stranger
on his way to Red Dog. The stranger afterward related that