How the States Got Their Shapes Too_ The People Behind the Borderlines - Mark Stein [126]
Sidney Edgerton (1818-1900) (photo credit 36.1)
James Ashley (1824-1896) (photo credit 36.2)
Ashley’s original proposal
Word arrived in Bannack shortly after Edgerton’s arrival that Ashley was now planning to bring the bill back to the House floor. To rank-and-file miners, the boundary made little difference. But to those with financial interests in the mines, Ashley’s horizontal division would dilute their political clout in their respective territories by dividing the mountainous mining region and combining it with soon-to-be agricultural and ranching regions. Mine owners in Idaho could maintain more clout with a vertical division, since it would result in an agricultural region limited to the Snake River Valley in what would then be its south. In Montana, however, limiting the vast agricultural regions was not an option, no matter how you sliced it. Consequently, it was imperative for the mine owners that they acquire a western border with as much of the gold-rich mountains as possible.
The logical choice to make the case for Montana was Edgerton. Not only had he served in Congress, but he had done so from the same state and political party (Republican) as Ashley, the territorial committee chairman. Moreover, Edgerton was personally acquainted with President Lincoln. And he knew what to wear and how to pack. “Ingots were quilted into the lining of my father’s overcoat,” his daughter recollected, “and he carried in his valise immense nuggets wherewith to dazzle the eyes of Congressmen and to impress upon their minds by means of an object lesson some adequate idea of the great mineral wealth of this section of the country.”
While members of Congress may have been familiar with the quantities of gold being mined in the region, Edgerton’s daughter was quite right that the object itself would have dazzled their eyes—and possibly ethics. “Arriving safely in Washington, the gold was exhibited, Congressmen interviewed, and at length the desired end was accomplished,” her recollection continued, concluding, “Judge Edgerton saved to Montana all of her rich territory lying west of the summit of the Rockies.”
Idaho’s representative, William H. Wallace (the man who, as territorial governor, had assigned Edgerton his judicial district) joined Edgerton in supporting the vertical division over Ashley’s horizontal proposal. Wallace, however, sought a vertical boundary along the Continental Divide, whereas Edgerton sought a boundary that shifted to the more westerly crest of the Bitterroot Range. Edgerton won (though the northernmost segment of the border departs from the Bitterroots, preserving the Kootenai River Valley for Idaho).
Who, among those congressmen Edgerton “interviewed,” as his daughter put it, might have been both persuaded by his “object lesson” and sufficiently influential to change Congressman Ashley’s proposed borders so radically? The ideal person, of course, would have been Congressman Ashley himself. But could a man so committed to the most progressive issues of his day (abolition of slavery, the right of women to vote) have been influenced by the sight of gold? It doesn’t seem unlikely; in April 1869 the New York Times devoted four articles to Ashley, detailing “abundant evidence of his public corruption.”
Edgerton left Washington not only with the boundary he had sought for Montana but also with the governorship of the new territory. He soon discovered, however, that the line he purchased failed to take into account other lines that divided the region, such as the interests of farmers and ranchers. He was unable to govern the various groups opposed to his personal interests. He left the territory before his term expired and was replaced by an interim governor until—small world—James Ashley was appointed.
Learning of Ashley’s appointment, Montana’s congressional delegate, James M. Cavanaugh, stated on the floor of the House that he “never solicited [Ashley] to come among us.” Cavanaugh (who, unlike a territorial governor,