And in 1929, the year after he ascended into office, Long's adversaries in the state legislature attempted what might be described as a kind of palace coup. After blocking Long's attempts to ran through yet another tax increase on big oil, and foiling Long's last-minute attempt to shut down the legislative session, opposition lawmakers narrowly voted to impeach Long, alleging that the governor was guilty of fraud, misconduct, and even apparently impolite behavior arising from one incident in which he allegedly got "frisky" with a hula dancer.
Needless to say, Long mounted a vigorous defense, using state money to print up a flier to take his case to the people, whipping his loyal supporters up in his support and borrowing a phrase from his populist patron saint Bryant to do it. The flier was entitled "The Cross of Gold: Standard Oil vs. Huey P. Long."
But that was not the only defense Long is believed to have employed. In what has long been regarded as a watershed moment in the anthology of political arrogance, Long managed to persuade 15 senators to sign a document publicly declaring that they would not vote to convict the Kingfish no matter what evidence was presented. To make sure that no one would ever know who signed the document first, each of the senators scrawled their names in a circle. In the end, Huey Long beat back the impeachment articles by the narrowest of margins, and, to the surprise of almost no one, many of those senators who supported him were later rewarded with handsome state contracts.
If Long's opponents thought that the Kingfish had been ruthless and dictatorial before their failed attempt to oust him, they soon realized that his narrow escape from political ignominy made him only more determined to consolidate his power and to punish his adversaries.