Jasmine watched a look of despair etch itself upon her father’s face. If the conversation continued down this path, he would soon be miserable. Jumping to her feet, she extended a hand toward the president. ‘‘Why don’t I take you up to see Mother before Spencer awakens from his nap? Once he is up and about, I doubt there will be much peace for any of us.’’
‘‘Yes, of course,’’ he replied, accepting her hand. ‘‘Peggy will expect a full account upon my return to Washington.’’
CHAPTER• 3
LATER THAT EVENING, President Taylor escorted Jasmine into the dining room, followed by Nolan. The president pulled out one of the ornately carved mahogany chairs for Jasmine and greeted her brothers and father, who were already seated around the end of the table.
‘‘Tell me about life in Massachusetts, Jasmine,’’ the president said. ‘‘Unfortunately, I’ve not yet had the opportunity to visit Lowell.’’ He sat down beside her, obviously interested in what she had to tell him.
‘‘I hope you’ll come and visit one day soon. In my estimation, the town is quite progressive and has much to offer. The textile mills are the primary industry, although locomotives are now being manufactured in Lowell, aren’t they, Nolan?’’
‘‘Indeed. Both ventures have proven to be financially successful for those involved. And of course most of the other machinery and tools used directly in the mills are manufactured in Lowell as well,’’ Nolan replied. ‘‘And it appears one of the most recent undertakings is patent medicine. From all appearances, Lowell is beginning to diversify, which is good for the economy.’’
The president helped himself to several pieces of crisp fried chicken and a generous portion of creamed peas before heaping a mound of roasted potatoes and a slab of corn bread onto his plate. ‘‘You live in Lowell also, Mr. Houston?’’
Nolan shook his head. ‘‘No. I make my home near Boston, but I do visit Lowell frequently. I don’t want my nephew growing up without knowing me,’’ he said with a grin.
‘‘Good for you,’’ the president said. ‘‘You and young Spencer will both be the better for it. Time spent with children is a sound investment in their future.’’
‘‘Nolan also oversees the shipping business that was owned by my late husband, who was Nolan’s brother,’’ Jasmine added. ‘‘His assistance has lifted a great burden from my shoulders.’’
‘‘Ah, yes. Your late husband was responsible for pursuing the purchase of cotton from our Mississippi and Louisiana planters on behalf of the Boston Associates, wasn’t he?’’
‘‘Yes, although Samuel had taken over that particular aspect of the business prior to Bradley’s death.’’
‘‘I understand your brother is doing an excellent job—at least where my plantation is concerned,’’ the president remarked.
Nolan took a drink of coffee and leaned forward to meet the president’s gaze. ‘‘I hope you won’t think me boorish for asking, sir, but I do wonder if you would tell me how you’ve managed to win the Northern vote when you own a plantation and more than a hundred slaves.’’
President Taylor shrugged. ‘‘There are those who say it was my military record that appealed to the Northerners, while my slave ownership lured the Southern vote. I’m not certain if that’s true, but in retrospect, I suppose each side chose to believe I was loyal to their camp. Neither gave consideration to the fact that I am my own person. I place my loyalty where I feel it best serves the nation’s interests and welfare, though I know there are many around these parts who consider me a doughface in reverse.’’
Jasmine saw a twinkle in the president’s eyes when Nolan’s brow furrowed. President Taylor obviously realized Nolan was confused by his remark.
‘‘A Southern man with Northern principles,’’ Taylor explained. ‘‘Believe me, I heartily disagree with those who would characterize me in such a manner. I consider myself a patriot and, fundamentally, I believe in the Union.’’
‘‘Please don’t think me impertinent, President Taylor, but if you consider yourself a Unionist, how do you justify slave ownership?’’
‘‘Justify? Why would I feel a need to do so? Never have I attempted to hide my ownership of a cotton plantation and slaves. You must remember that I was a slave owner before I was elected president. Although there are many who abhor the thought, I shall be a slave owner when I leave the presidency. And I might add that the owners and workers of those famous textile mills in Lowell are more than a little dependent upon our Southern cotton.’’
‘‘True enough, yet there is valid argument that the slaves should be given the freedom to choose whether they desire to remain on the plantations or seek a life of their own in some other place. Does it seem fair and equitable that one man has the freedom to choose while another does not?’’ Nolan asked while spreading apple butter onto a warm piece of corn bread.
President Taylor speared another piece of chicken and then leaned back in his chair. ‘‘There are many things in life that are unfair, Mr. Houston, for both Negroes and whites. Surely you don’t desire or expect the men in Washington to solve every injustice.’’
‘‘No, I don’t, but I do expect the government to resolve issues that threaten to tear apart the very fabric of this country.’’
‘‘Then rest easy, my boy. I will not permit such a thing to occur,’’ President Taylor replied easily.
Jasmine glanced toward her father as he straightened in his chair and then loudly cleared his throat. The tension in her neck began to relax as she realized her father was going to call a halt to any further political discussion at the supper table.
‘‘Word down here is that you’ve forsaken us, Zachary. We hear you’re urging settlers in New Mexico and California to draft their own constitutions and apply for statehood, that you’ve advised them to bypass the territorial stage. But don’t think for a minute we’re oblivious to the negative effect that piece of advice will have upon the South,’’ her father candidly remarked.
Jasmine stared at him in disbelief. Obviously any topic was now considered acceptable table conversation.
McKinley nodded and smiled. ‘‘They’ll come in as free states since neither of them is likely to draw a constitution permitting slavery.’’
Jasmine stared at McKinley, surprised at the seeming pleasure in his tone.
‘‘Exactly! And don’t think your behavior is going to sit well with Congress, Zachary,’’ Malcolm added. ‘‘They don’t like having their policy-making prerogatives usurped by anyone, not even by the president. If you continue in this manner, you’re going to alienate the entire country.’’
‘‘There’s no way to make everybody happy over the slavery issue. Why, I daresay there’s no way I could please even the few gathered in this room. Ultimately there will be those who will be unhappy, no matter what the decision,’’ President Taylor said while glancing around the table. ‘‘Why, I’m sure they’re quite unhappy to find me absent from Washington. I know the men who traveled with me were surely displeased to awaken this morning and find me gone, but I am fully capable of seeing to myself. And I won’t worry overmuch about wooing them into better humors when I return. Just as I cannot concern myself with wooing each and every voter whose nose is out of joint.’’
‘‘Well, I think you would at least attempt to woo your Southern brothers who placed their faith in you,’’ Malcolm fumed.
The president emitted a loud guffaw. ‘‘And the Northerners who voted for me think I should take a harsh stand against slavery. Should any of you young folks have a hankering for politics, you should remember your allegiance likely will be called into question on a regular basis. I constantly find myself in quite a quandary.’’
‘‘I don’t think I would ever aspire to a political future,’’ McKinley commented. ‘‘There is little doubt repercussions will be forthcoming no matter what the outcome of the slavery issue. And should Congress pass a law requiring the return of fugitive slaves, I doubt that even the freed slaves up north
will be safe.’’
‘‘What law is this you’re talking about?’’ Nolan inquired.
‘‘McKinley is speaking out of turn. There have been rumors, nothing more,’’ David retorted.
‘‘Not so!’’ McKinley protested. ‘‘Matters have moved beyond rumor. I hear there are men who have already drafted legislation in the event California and New Mexico follow the president’s advice to avoid becoming territories and move forward with statehood.’’
Nolan turned his attention to McKinley. ‘‘And what are the provisions of this possible legislation?’’
President Taylor pushed his dinner plate aside. ‘‘In answer to your question, Nolan, it appears there are those who desire a law that would make it the responsibility of every person to return runaway slaves. I would tend to agree with McKinley. The possibility has moved beyond rumor for I, too, am privy to the information.’’ McKinley nodded vigorously as he met Nolan’s gaze. ‘‘Yet it goes far beyond the mere return of slaves: this law would actually mandate the involvement of every citizen who encounters a possible runaway.’’
‘‘Which is as it should be,’’ Malcolm replied. ‘‘Think of the financial investment. The North wants abolition and the president obviously isn’t going to take a stand for slavery. We must have some sort of protection for our investment. Expansion of the Underground Railroad continues with Northerners not only aiding runaways but practically encouraging slaves to leave their owners— and the antislavery do-gooders seem to be increasing their numbers daily.’’
Jasmine frowned and discreetly shook her head when Nolan glanced in her direction. She prayed he would heed her warning and remain silent. Continuing down this path would only cause her father to become more distressed.
‘‘I see many problems with such a law,’’ McKinley commented.
Startled, Jasmine tilted her head to one side and briefly contemplated her brother’s behavior. His actions this evening appeared completely out of character. She’d never seen him enter into a passionate discussion on any topic other than finances. ‘‘What difficulties do you predict?’’ No sooner had she uttered the question than she wished she could recall the words. There was little doubt further explanation by McKinley would only serve to inflame her father.
McKinley didn’t hesitate for a moment. ‘‘Such a law will make men greedy. They will accuse freed men of being escaped slaves, and they’ll find disreputable Southerners willing to look the other way if they can pay a lesser price for another healthy slave. They won’t take the time or energy to see if there’s validity to the Negro’s claim.’’
‘‘Absurd!’’ Malcolm retorted, his cheeks flushed in anger.
Unfortunately, her father was reacting exactly as Jasmine had anticipated—he couldn’t seem to hold his temper in check when it came to the issue of slavery and those who opposed it. However, McKinley’s views had come as somewhat of a surprise to her.
Granted, her youngest brother had always been kind to the household staff and, unlike Samuel, McKinley abhorred going out into the fields or to the slave quarters. Instead, he remained close to the big house, working on the accounts and honing his skills to become an astute businessman. Was he beginning to see the evils of slavery? His comments this evening seemed to indicate he was at least giving consideration to antislavery sentiments. If so, he might prove to be an excellent Southern connection for the antislavery movement in Lowell. Trusted Southerner antislavers were in demand. Jasmine touched the linen napkin to her lips and wondered if her father would later take McKinley to task for speaking his mind this evening.
David’s knife clanked onto his plate with such force Jasmine thought the china would surely be chipped or cracked. ‘‘You’re absolutely correct, Father. As usual, the Northerners are attempting to force their will upon the entire nation. They have always considered themselves superior to the genteel people of the South, quick in their attempts to force their choices upon all of us.’’
Although David had offered little to the dinner conversation this evening, Jasmine knew his loyalty would unfalteringly remain with their father and the South. She was keenly aware of his lifelong struggle to gain their father’s attention. Even at an early age, Jasmine had recognized her brother’s longing to be noticed by their father. Always anxious to please, David never disagreed with their father, never voiced an independent idea, and never failed to do exactly as instructed. Consequently, he remained the overlooked middle son, still attempting to gain some glimmer of recognition.
‘‘True enough. As far as I’m concerned, they speak from both sides of their mouth. On one hand, they want our cotton, but on the other, they wish to do away with the slaves needed to raise the crop. Ridiculous!’’
‘‘No need to get into a heated political debate over supper, Malcolm—bad for the digestion,’’ the president said calmly. He turned toward Jasmine and graced her with an affable smile. ‘‘Tell me, my dear, how is it that you chose to remain in Lowell rather than returning to Mississippi—especially since you have Mr. Houston to assist with your business interests in Boston.’’
Jasmine sighed with relief. The conversation was finally taking a turn for the better. She gave the president a radiant smile. ‘‘You may recall that Grandmother Wainwright lives in Lowell?’’
‘‘Ah yes, now that you mention it, I do seem to remember the fact that Alice went north. After your father’s death, wasn’t it, Malcolm?’’ .
Her father nodded.
‘‘Having Grandmother Wainwright in Lowell was a true blessing, for a move after my husband’s death would have been difficult. Spencer was a mere infant. However, since that time I have expanded my interests by purchasing a horse farm, where Spencer and I are now living.’’
‘‘A horse farm? Now that’s an unusual investment for a young woman with no husband. How did you happen to become involved in such a venture?’’
‘‘My husband had purchased several fine horses before his death—beautiful animals. When an unforeseen opportunity arose to purchase a farm several miles out of town, I immediately made a bid on the acreage. There was no way I could have expanded the horse business on the property I previously owned. My bid was accepted, and we moved to the farm a month later.’’
‘‘I’d say your daughter has some of that same spunk you had when you expanded your cotton business, Malcolm.’’
Her father appeared to soften at the president’s praise. ‘‘Once she had all the facts and figures, she wasn’t afraid to move forward.
And from what I’ve seen and been told, she made a wise decision.’’
‘‘Thank you, Papa. We’ve increased our stock and have earned a good reputation. In addition, we’ve gained the trust of the locals, and that’s always helpful.’’
‘‘Perhaps I’ll have to make that trip to Lowell in the very near future. I’ve been looking for a pair of carriage horses. I’m thinking you might have something you could recommend to me.’’
‘‘Better yet, something she could sell to you,’’ her father said with a loud guffaw.
Jasmine blushed at her father’s assertion. ‘‘I would be honored to discuss my horses with you, President Taylor. And should Cousin Peggy’s health permit, it would be my privilege to have the two of you be my guests in Lowell.’’
‘‘I’ll discuss that possibility with her, my dear. She hasn’t been inclined to do much visiting and, as I mentioned, Betty sees to formal functions at the White House. However, I’ve been encouraged by the number of friends and kinfolk Peggy has welcomed to her upstairs sitting rooms. She regularly worships with the family at St. John’s Episcopal Church, even though she steadfastly refuses to become involved in the Washington social functions. So there is a good possibility she might consider a visit to Lowell. Now tell me more about your horses.’’
‘‘Why don’t we adjourn to the sitting room, and I’ll tell you about my farm,’’ Jasmine suggested.
‘‘We’ll join you in a few moments, my dear,’’ her fathe
r stated. ‘‘I’d like to have a glass of port and a cigar. I’m certain the other gentlemen will want to join me.’’
‘‘Yes, of course. Since Nolan doesn’t partake in cigars, I’m certain you’ll excuse him. He promised to make a final visit to Spencer’s room.’’
‘‘Surely the boy is in bed by now,’’ the older man said.
Nolan rose from his chair. ‘‘He’s likely asleep, but I’ll go up and make certain. I don’t want to break my promise.’’
Malcolm nodded and gestured for the others to follow. ‘‘Whatever you think best—we’ll be in my library if you want to join us once you’ve looked in on Spencer.’’
Jasmine waited only a moment before pulling Nolan aside. ‘‘I know we didn’t have an opportunity to talk prior to supper, but I do wish you hadn’t begun a discussion of the slavery issue with President Taylor. Surely you realized the topic would be unpredictable.’’
Nolan gave her a sheepish grin. ‘‘I suppose that’s a correct statement. However, I wanted to see for myself where the president’s loyalties are placed. I must admit he surprised me. I assumed he would hold fast to the Southern ideology. When he stated he was a Unionist, I was taken aback. I gathered from his comments that he’s willing to do everything in his power to stop any talk of cessation. He’s against slavery expansion, yet he supports its continuation in Southern states, all the while saying the fugitive slave laws should not be more stringent. It’s obvious he doesn’t intend to bow to Whig leadership in Congress.’’
‘‘And it’s also obvious my father disagrees with him on almost every account. Nolan, I would prefer this be a gracious visit. Mother’s illness leaves Father weary and quick to temper, and I don’t know when the president will be able to return for another visit. For approximately four years they spent a great deal of time on their plantation across the river in Louisiana, and we would visit several times a year. However, the Mexican War put an end to those visits. And now that they live in Washington and neither Mother nor Cousin Peggy is in good health . . .’’
A Love Woven True Page 4
