by James Devine
“Very little, Sir,” said an astonished Bratton, who was beginning to wonder the actual direction of this briefing. “While the slaves make up less than 15% of the USBA’s overall population, they constitute anywhere from 20% to over 50% in the Southern states. In South Carolina, there are actually about 50,000 more slaves than whites and free blacks combined. The slaves outnumber the free population by a few thousand in Louisiana, also. I would be remiss not to add, however, that some 2200 slaves are currently held in New Jersey.”
Adams interrupted. “If you extend Mason and Dixon’s line due east, it would cross Southern New Jersey. I’m sure the great majority of those slaves are therefore, technically as well as physically, in the South.”
Bratton, grateful for the chance to have grabbed every note he could gather from his desk, hesitated, but then determined to push on. Well, they did ask me in here for my ‘counsel.’ “Not exactly, Mr. Adams. I’ve traveled through that beautiful state many times coming and going to and from New York and New England. Bergen County, as I’m sure you are aware, is somewhat northwest of New York City and more than 100 miles north of the theoretical Line. Yet the census lists it as having 584 slaves, the most in the state.”
Lord Goderich broke back into the discussion. “The location of and reasons for New Jersey’s slave population are of little concern to this Committee. Suffice to say, slaves do not constitute a significant portion of that state’s population. Our concern is the states where they do. The question is: can we apply the same formula to the USBA that we are utilizing to bring about emancipation in the rest of the Empire? Phased-in compensation under terms to be overseen by the Army and the Royal Marines?”
An excited chatter broke out across the table, while behind it, a flabbergasted Bratton wondered if he had correctly heard the Colonial Secretary’s question. Emancipation of the slaves? Dear Mother of God, it that what this is all about? No wonder they wanted Jackson defeated. He’s a planter. They don’t trust him to carry out the emancipation! But surely they don’t intend to send in the Army and the Royal Marines?
It will be 1775 all over again!
Lord Brougham seemed to be echoing Bratton’s thoughts. “Let’s be clear that we are not advocating a military solution here,” he said. “The USBA is not the West Indies! The first question is: how much must we sweeten the pot in order to convince the slaveholders to agree to emancipation? And, secondly, how much can this Government afford to sweeten said pot? Those are the issues on the table.”
“Well put, Henry,” said Lord Palmerston. “I’d like to hear Mr. Adams’ thoughts next, before we hear a financial report from the Chancellor of the Exchequer.”
“Personally, as you all well know, I’d be inclined not to pay the slaveholders another shilling,” said Adams. “They’ve made far too much money off the sweat of others as it is. But, I realize the catastrophic impact on the USBA economy of such a draconian approach. And, I’m ashamed to add, the majority of my fellow British Americans who live in the so-called free states---and who aren’t as opposed to slavery as they should be---would unfortunately sympathize with the slaveholders. As quickly as the movement is growing in the North, there are still too many who do not see the emancipation issue as their fight.
“I do not wish to be considered overly-pessimistic, but, as I’ve stated at previous meeting of this distinguished Committee, I am not at all certain that the slaveholders will be willing to relinquish their…‘peculiar institution’…at any price. It may all depend on the attitude of that frontier barbarian who now occupies The Residency. As a planter himself, he will be the lightening rod, so to speak, on this issue. If Jackson agrees to accept the proclamation of emancipation by His Majesty’s government, he may be able to stare down the more radical elements. Just as he so ably, it pains me to admit, did in the ‘nullification’ crisis of ’31.”
Adams paused before adding: “After all, he does claim to swear allegiance to the union of our states…” The former G-G looked around the table at the somber faces staring back at him. “Gentlemen, we are about to test that allegiance to the fullest.”
The Chancellor of the Exchequer broke the ensuing silence. “For the record, gentlemen, based on the twenty million pounds we have earmarked for the West Indies, and the fact that Sir Galbreath in Pretoria believes emancipation in the Cape Colony can be had for less than another million pounds, His Majesty’s Government expects to allocate another 23 millions for the project in the USBA. That is, of course, with the understanding that the Empire remains in a state of peace for the next seven years. A major European war could not be financed while this project is underway.”
“Ah yes, Frederick, that would be a problem,” said Lord Palmerston. “However, foreign affairs are on my watch and I see little likelihood of a major conflict. I must admit we are monitoring this situation within the Ottoman Empire. Seems this Egyptian vassal of the Sultan, Pasha Mehemet Ali, is flexing his muscles against Constantinople. He’s sent a force north through the Gaza and into Palestine. Unless the Bear decides to interfere, we shall probably allow them to settle that dispute internally. In any case, I do not see major war clouds threatening on the horizon.”
Lord Melbourne had been relatively quiet all morning. But then, the Home Secretary was famous for keeping his own counsel. Now he addressed the Chair. “We’ve heard Mr. Adams today repeat what he’s told us in prior meetings: much depends on Governor-General Jackson. I’d be interested in hearing now from our professional in the American Office. Mr. Bratton, you’ve heard enough now to understand our deep concerns that this most worthy plan to abolish slavery throughout the Empire might trigger a crisis in the USBA. Based on the plebiscite returns and other information at your disposal, what do you feel will happen over there when word of emancipation reaches the USBA?”
A shaken Bratton rose rather unsteadily to his feet as all eyes focused on him. Should I tell them I think this is ludicrous and could trigger a full-scale rebellion by the South? Let the damn planters keep their slaves for now. The bloody institution is bound to die out in the next few generations anyway, as strides in machinery make it obsolete.
“My Lords, and members of Parliament,” he bowed his head to Adams, the only fellow commoner in the room. “I have of course been made privy to this information only within the last hour and haven’t thought it all out.” He paused briefly. “My initial reaction to this breathtaking proposal is that, yes, the Governor-General is the key. Jackson commands wide support in the West and in the South, despite the fallout from that nullification battle Mr. Adams alluded to previously.
“However, I am not as certain as Mr. Adams of the absoluteness of Jackson’s allegiance to the union. In his speech to the Mississippi Legislature last Spring, in which he raised the possibility of the Empire acquiring Texas…”
More than one chuckle was heard and several amused faces turned to the Foreign Secretary, who shook his head with disgust.
“...in that speech, General Jackson was subtly raising an issue that has become of paramount concern among the Southern upper classes: the gradual erosion of their political power in Georgetown. Look again at this map, if you would, gentlemen.” He walked over to the easel and picked up the pointer the Colonial Secretary had put down.
Pointing to the southeast corner of the map, he continued: “Here the slave power thrives in a tightly-held area of 10 physically-connected states and two territories, Florida and Arkansas, soon to become states. As the Dominion expands north and west,” he pushed the pointer past the center of the map, “we run out of territory where slavery is economically feasible. The weather in the still-to-be organized portions of the Louisiana Territory simply rules out slavery, for the most part. And that’s without knowing what crops are most suited for the soil there. As we go further northwest into the vast uncharted lands we call the Canadian West, slavery is completely out-of-the-question.
“Yet these areas will also eventually be organized and will send representatives to Georgetown. U
nless the slaveholders can similarly expand, they will become a permanent minority in Georgetown, with or without their current alliance with Quebec. And, they have come to realize that with the abolitionist movement steadily gaining strength in the Northeast and, more slowly, in the West, as a permanent minority, they may not be able to hold on to their ‘peculiar institution.’”
Bratton paused again and glanced briefly at the Colonial Secretary, who smiled slightly and nodded for him to continue.
“So Jackson’s suggestion that the Empire acquire Texas was not simply interference in foreign policy. It was the opening salvo in the Southerners’ drive to expand into areas where slavery makes sense: the lands stretching from Louisiana’s current border with Mexican Texas all the way to California.” The pointer pushed west from the Gulf of Mexico across to the Pacific. “Lands that can be carved up into new slave states.
“And add Cuba to the equation, which is the reason the Southern newspapers and orators have lately begun decrying Spanish ‘oppression’ of the native population.”
There was complete silence in the room as the Committee members stared at the American Office official in shock and dismay. Silence, that is, until John Quincy Adams, of the Massachusetts’ Adamses, broke it with a loud clapping of his hands and a louder “Bravo.”
While the other members of the Committee sat stunned as they tried to grasp the full implications of Bratton’s analysis, the British American took command of the meeting.
“Gentlemen, I have been aware of General Jackson’s intentions even before his Mississippi speech. Unfortunately, due to my well-known personal apathy for the man, as well as my reputation as an abolitionist, to have raised the issues presented with such clarity just now by Mr. Bratton would have been counterproductive.
“Now, having proven himself extremely knowledgeable in the political affairs of the USBA, I would like the young man’s opinion on the question originally posed him: what will happen when word of the emancipation bill reaches the USBA?”
Bratton put on a face as grave as that of Adams himself. “I believe the Governor-General and the South will fight any emancipation of their slaves, with compensation or otherwise…to the fullest extent of their abilities and resources.”
“Militarily, as well as politically?” Lord Durham probed.
“To the fullest extent, including armed resistance,” Bratton reluctantly replied.
Adams, who had been sitting erect, his hands clutching the conference table tightly, fell back in his chair, a look of victorious satisfaction on his face. “I fully concur.”
___________
This time the silence did exceed 60 seconds. In fact, almost two full minutes passed before Lord Melbourne spoke.
“So gentlemen, the dreadful possibility we had previously hoped would be negated by the USBA electorate suddenly must be faced. The tool we will use to eradicate this blot on humanity in other parts of the Empire may not be effective in the USBA. The culture of slavery may be too embedded among too large a portion of the population to simply be bribed out of existence. In the USBA, as we have come to realize, slavery is a political, as well as an economic, issue. Therefore it must be addressed politically as well as economically. Fortunately, we have also planned for this contingency. I suggest we put our plan into operation as soon as possible.”
“Is that the consensus of this Committee?” asked Lord Palmerston. “That, as discussed, we send the Duke to Georgetown as soon as the Royal Navy ship which brought us this plebiscite dispatch can be readied for a return run? And that he briefs as soon as he sees fit the current Governor-General to ascertain his acceptance of His Majesty’s Government’s emancipation plans? With full authority from the King under the terms of the USBA constitution to remove the incumbent if he refuses to enforce said emancipation?”
Bratton’s jaw had dropped, but the concept was apparently a contingency fully discussed at previous meetings. Slowly, each Committee member voiced his approval…some more reluctantly than others.
Lord Palmerston began replacing his papers in his pouch. “I will go immediately to see the P.M. Thence, I expect, to Buckingham Palace. Meanwhile, Sir Arthur, I suggest you begin packing for an unpleasant journey. The North Atlantic is bound to be brutal, but we must resolve this crisis before it can escalate into bloodshed. God willing, we are underestimating Andrew Jackson’s commitment to the Colonial Compact and all it represents. That will be up to you to ascertain…and to take whatever measures are deemed appropriate.”
As the meeting broke up, the Duke motioned the Colonial Secretary and Bratton to the side. “Frederick, I believe it is mandatory that the American Office become mobile. Don’t you agree?”
“I certainly do, Sir Arthur. Harry, pack your own luggage. You’ll be going back to your old duty station with the Duke of Wellington.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Georgetown, D.C.
December 23, 1832:
The Residency had not regained the puritan fastidiousness of the Quincy Adams’ tenure after its near demolition by celebrating Westerners the night of Jackson’s inauguration. Despite the best efforts of the G-G’s niece---his wife Rachel had died soon after the 1828 plebiscite---the old house had neither quite regained the look of the fine Southern mansion that Dolly Madison had rebuilt after a devastating fire early in her husband’s second Administration.
No, thought Lieutenant Wilder. I’ve been to ‘real’ Southern mansions; including a huge one in Westminster, Maryland. He grinned to himself. The Residency simply doesn’t compare. He looked around the oval room where the formal reception would be held before everyone moved into the main dining room for a buffet-style supper and dancing. Now this room, at least, offers a great view of the Potomac River and the blue/green Virginia hills of Arlington. Including, he thought somewhat enviously, the Custis plantation, which Robert Lee stands to inherit, now that he’s finally married Mary. This house, though, reminds me of the Nashville Inn, where I stayed last Spring when General Jackson stopped off at his plantation on the way back from his tour of the Deep South.
Wilder had arrived at 5 p.m., 90 minutes before the official Governor-General’s Christmas reception was to begin. Most of the guests would begin arriving early---what else is there to do in this miserable excuse for a capitol city---but some would be fashionably late, in order to make the grand entrance. It’s a toss-up who’ll show up later, Lucille Latoure or Candice Samples, but the daughter of the new Russian Counsel-General, Countess Caroline Renkowiitz, is a good bet to upstage them both. Well, we’ll see what unfolds. Now its time to play social aide to ‘Old Hickory,’ though that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one…
The official carriages were rolling up to the Main Portico as Wilder hurried into the spacious vestibule dominated by the wide staircase leading to the G-G’s private quarters. The guests---the handful of members of Congress and their wives still in Georgetown, members of the Dominion Supreme Court, the diplomatic corps and favored government appointees and special guests, as well as a few senior military officers and their wives---were now pouring into the building, handing off their cloaks to various Negro ushers and drifting into the oval room. Wilder greeted Jacques Jean-Claude, King Louis Philippe’s representative, entering with his beautiful wife, Jacqueline, as well as, surprisingly on schedule, towering Count Karl Renkowiitz, the Russian C-G, with daughter Caroline in tow. (Renkowiitz’s wife had taken one look at Georgetown when the Count had first arrived and fled immediately back to St. Petersburg.)
“Well, Mr. Wilder. Enjoying yourself yet?” The Lieutenant spun around at the gruff growl of General Scott. The General’s dark-haired wife, Maria, seemed doll-like clinging to his arm. Yet Mrs. Scott was no more than an inch shorter than Wilder himself. “Well, Sir, on occasions such as this, if the diplomatic corps leaves without a declaration of war being threatened, I’ve been told to consider it a successful evening.”
“Why, Thomas,” drawled Mrs. Scott, like her husband a Virginia native, but unlike th
e General, the proud possessor of a Southern accent, “surely the Governor-General is fond of all his guests. Why, he told Sarah Polk just last week how much he was looking forward to tonight.”
Yes, to it being over, I’m sure, Wilder thought to himself. From the slight smile on General Scott’s face, it was obvious his other boss had once again read his mind. Damn, ‘Old Fuss and Feathers’ doesn’t miss anything. “Well Mrs. Scott, General Jackson is always more comfortable at these affairs if his niece is around. He’s come to rely on her more and more.”
The tall, gaunt figure of the G-G was now making his way down the staircase, with the aid of a cane, assisted by a lean, muscular hard-faced man of early middle age. “My dear,” gasped Mrs. Scott, clutching the General’s arm more tightly, “that can’t be who I think it is…can it?”
Even General Scott seemed taken back, though he recovered his aplomb quickly. “I believe you’re right, Maria. Unless I’m mistaken, that’s the former Governor of Tennessee.” Turning to a bewildered Wilder, he asked: “Were you aware Sam Houston was in town? When did he arrive?”
Wilder shook his head slowly. “He’s not on the official guest list, Sir. And when I left here at noon to return to the Department, there was no word or sign of him. Though I would not have known who he was until you identified him.”
A more expected guest now made his way out of a circle of Congressmen and their ladies and toward the Scotts. The elegant little figure—no more than 5-foot-5 and 130 pounds, with short dark hair circling his bald head like a wreath--was the newly-chosen Vice Governor-General, Martin Van Buren. A consummate politician, he was famously nicknamed ‘The Little Magician.’
