by James Devine
Henry Clay, however, had apparently limited his legendary intake. He, too, was the center of a small circle of guests. And yet despite Tom’s efforts to shield Burr from view, the Kentuckian spied the old man coming down the stairs. He quickly moved to intercept them by the front door. “By God Colonel Burr, it is you!” he said quietly. “Haven’t seen you since the trial, but I’d know you anywhere. What the devil are you doing here?”
Burr flashed his mischievous grin but Clay wasn’t ready for an answer as yet: “And with a uniformed officer as an escort, no less! So you’re here officially…
“But not staying for the dinner-party, I see. So where are you off to? The Residency, by chance, under cover of darkness?”
The Colonel modestly shook his head: “Now Harry, why would I need cover of any kind? I’ll wager there aren’t five people in Georgetown who remember, much less recognize, me. As for The Residency…”
The conspirator’s grin broke out: “...Tennessee mash is not recommended for people my age after 5 p.m. A shot or two of good Irish whiskey, however, is another matter… Enjoy the evening, Harry. Matty Van sets the best table of anyone I know.”
Clay’s jaw dropped as Tom opened the door for the Colonel. When the Lieutenant looked back after assisting the old man into the War Department rig, he was still staring after them.
Burr was chuckling. “Well Mr. Wilder, I would rather have escaped unseen, but it was worth it to see Harry speechless. Poor Matty, though; Clay will pester him no end to find out why I’m here…and where I’ve gone.” He laughed again. “Perhaps it is for the best. Matty promised the Duke last night he’d enlist Harry to rally the West. This will provide the perfect entrée to the conversation. Not that Matty needs help, but …”
But the Lieutenant was no longer listening. As he escorted the Colonel to the carriage, they had passed a trio of arriving guests. With Lucille and her mother was the bachelor political chief of the Liaison Office, Sir John Burrell.
___________
Long Bridge over the Potomac
7 p.m.
Robert E. Lee dismounted near the Virginia side of the Bridge and looked up the hill to the lights of Arlington House. Could it be just 24 hours ago that I rode up the long driveway so eagerly anticipating a joyous homecoming?
One look at Mary’s face in the vestibule and I knew something was gravely wrong. Thank God little Custis was there in her arms; otherwise I’d have thought him deathly ill. Instead, I found reports of a crisis of another, most unexpected kind….
And today it has been confirmed: Parliament apparently intends to abolish slavery throughout the Empire without so much as asking our opinion! They intend to uproot the entire economic and social fabric of the South starting next year…and we’re to actually participate cheerfully in this cataclysm in exchange for what amounts to a small monetary bribe!
He shook his head in disbelief.
Anyone who has known me understands I am uncomfortable with our peculiar institution; in any case, the Lee family’s slaves were long ago seized to pay my late father’s debts. I did not mature in this culture… And my wife knows I have given much thought to freeing the slaves up on that hill when the time is right and I am available to oversee their orderly transition into free, hired workers.
But not now---and not on order of some faraway politicians---before either owners or slaves are ready…
Mary is sure the Yankees are behind this. I myself am not; their representatives seemed as shocked as our own during Wellington’s address today. And General Scott looked as sorrowful as a man can be in our meeting this morning. But then the General, too, is a Virginian, as is his wife. Yet he made it clear that our duty under the oath we swore upon becoming officers requires us to support and enforce this intolerable act, if and when it becomes law.
But there is a higher loyalty: to Virginia. The General sees the possibility of organized resistance, particularly in the Deep South. He is already thinking in terms of smothering it. But what if Virginia becomes an integral part of that resistance?
That, sadly, is where General Scott and I differ. It is not up to the Dominion to decide this matter. That is the right and prerogative of the states. If Virginia decides to enforce emancipation, I will acquiesce. If Virginia determines that the Empire has overstepped the bounds; if London has violated the terms of the Colonial Compact and Georgetown the terms of the Constitution, I will have no choice but to cast my lot with my native soil.
But surely it will not come to that! Surely a compromise will be reached, just as in 1776. There must be a way to settle this issue without bloodshed, without the Empire physically imposing its will on the South. I pray to God there are men of good faith on both---all---sides willing and able to do so…
In as black a mood as he could ever recall, Robert E. Lee remounted his horse and rode slowly up the hill to Arlington House.
___________
Scott Townhouse
8:00 p.m.
There was an unexpected guest already in the parlor having a quiet drink with General Scott and the Duke when Colonel Burr was ushered in. If Burr was surprised to see the Chief Justice, John Marshall was literally silenced by pure shock to realize who it was offering a small, callused hand.
“Well, Mr. Chief Justice. Don’t recall seeing you since we all left Richmond…Yes, yes, it is I. The former Vice Governor-General turned traitor-indictee, who managed to escape Jefferson’s gallows in large part due to your fearless management of the trial! What do you think Cousin Tom would say if he knew we were together again, eh?”
Still dumbfounded, Marshall automatically took the thrust-out hand, while Burr grinned passed him to the host and Wellington. “I’ll wager you were unaware that the Chief Justice sat in judgment on me, Your Grace. The General can tell you; he was there. Yes, a fine comedy was played out that summer in Richmond, won’t you agree, Mr. Marshall…”
“What I will agree with, Colonel,” said the still dazed Chief Justice, “is that my late uncle neglected to present any evidence of an overt act which would have found you guilty, if any such evidence in fact existed.”
Burr turned at the sound of Maria Scott returning from giving Captain Bratton a tour of her home. “One piece of evidence we can in fact agree exists, Mr. Chief Justice. That our host indeed married above and beyond himself…”
“I can see why Jeremy Benthem considered you ‘perfectly civilized,’ Colonel,” Captain Bratton said, with a bow and to applause and laughter.
With a sweeping gesture of her own, Maria indicated the dining room to her guests “as we are all here now.”
The Duke wasted no time once everyone, including Mrs. Scott, was seated.
“Mr. Chief Justice, Colonel Burr and I dined last evening at the home of the incoming Vice G-G. General Scott and I have had private talks since soon after my arrival. We are all in agreement that you, as the Dominion’s leading legal scholar, should be asked to join our efforts to contain this crisis. So I ask you flat out: do you believe the Government has the right to impose Parliamentary-approved emancipation legislation under terms of the Compact? And are you also in agreement that, under the terms of the USBA Constitution, the Governor-General is required to enforce such legislation?”
Marshall had by now shook off any lingering symptoms of Burr-induced astonishment. It soon became obvious he had been ready to articulate his position prior to the Duke’s question; perhaps even before entering the Scott home:
“Gentlemen, I have participated in more than 1000 decisions during my 31 years on the Court. In fact, I’ve authored more than 500 opinions myself. My record is quite clear: the supremacy of Dominion law over state law. It thus follows that I also support the supremacy of Parliamentary law as agreed upon in the Colonial Compact, particularly in cases, such as this, when that law is directed at the Empire as a whole.”
He paused and his tired, severe face broke into the tiniest of smiles. “You of course, also wish to know, Your Grace, my stand on slavery as an institu
tion. I am not of the planter class in that neither my late wife nor I have ever owned slaves. In fact, I have been active for many years, and have been president for a decade, of the Richmond branch of the American Colonization Society.”
The relief on Wellington’s face was plainly evident. He rose and, walking around the table, extended his right hand in the American manner as the Chief Justice rose to extend his own hand. “Welcome to the team, Justice Marshall. Your counsel will be most gratefully appreciated.
“Now then, Colonel Burr, a briefing on your afternoon at The Residency, if you please.”
___________
Marshall’s head had spun around to stare at the Colonel as he retook his seat. The others were also looking at Burr; apparently, the old man had been dispatched to see the G-G while everyone else of note was at the Capitol.
Burr’s report was alarming, if not surprising. Jackson was not yet willing to concede that the Compact gave the Crown the right to arbitrarily abolish slavery; thus whether he himself would recommend---much less enforce---such abolition among his fellow Southerners was still debatable.
Apparently, there had been much discussion of applying a version of the nullification principle on a grand scale---that governing agreements should always be subject to review--in the kitchen cabinet. “Fortunately, Andy---though he’ll raise it---doesn’t really believe in it. I gather Polk is its foremost proponent, while Blair is dead-set against it.”
Instead, the G-G was basing his opposition on the grounds that slavery, having been accepted by the Crown as a de facto “condition of affairs” in America in 1776, was therefore “exempt” from Parliamentary interference now or in the future. Polk, Blair and the others were apparently united behind this position.
The G-G, he concluded somewhat anticlimactically, wanted him to return late tomorrow afternoon---going in through a back entrance from a private carriage---after the Congressional leadership had been consulted. “The advisors are back there now after having heard your speech, Duke. The Congressional leaders have been asked to be at The Residency at 12 noon.”
Scott and Marshall were looking at each other glumly, but Wellington surprised them with a large smile.
“We are gaining ground, gentlemen. If the G-G concedes that the Government has the right to impose emancipation without consultation with the Congress, then he will ultimately agree that his duty, under the Constitution, is to enforce it. He has not yet ruled out so conceding, according to Colonel Burr. This ‘exemption’ argument has no legal standing. Even I recognize that. It’s a tactical retreat to buy time and see what compromises can be worked out.”
Wellington’s enthusiasm was falling on deaf ears, however, Captain Bratton, sitting quietly at a corner of the table, observed. Sir Arthur’s words had failed to lift the gloom emanating from the General and the Chief Justice. Burr, too, looked somewhat less than enthusiastic.
Scott answered for the trio, looking not at the Duke, but at his own tight-lipped wife:
“That the Governor-General has not denied the Crown’s right to impose emancipation arbitrarily is significant, Your Grace, but not much of an advance of ground. And until the South is heard from, there is no cause for celebration.
“Unless I’m very wrong, Calhoun and the others are formulating their response even as we speak. Colonel Burr here got to General Jackson early. He appealed to his Dominionist side and received some acknowledgement of the strict constitutionalist interpretation we were seeking.
“When the Southerners are in with him tomorrow, however, the appeal will be somewhat different. They won’t be appealing to Andrew Jackson, Governor-General of the Dominion. They’ll be seeking to fire up Andy Jackson, Southerner and planter. When we have the G-G’s response to that, we’ll know how much ground we have yet to cover.”
The Duke had sat---fallen---back in his chair during Scott’s analysis. Marshall and Mrs. Scott stared into their wine glasses as though contemplating a Southern revolt. A deafening silence engulfed the table.
It was Burr, naturally, who broke it, after signally for another round of wine for all. “You are of course correct that the fire-eaters will be in to see the G-G, General, though I’ll lay odds they’ll be storming The Residency gates this night.
“So let me tell you what Andy’s response will be. To the Southerners as well as the rest of the leadership tomorrow afternoon. So you don’t think all I did over there was drink up his Tennessee mash…”
___________
The Residency
11:30 p.m.
Troup and McDuffie, as the representatives of the fire-eaters chosen by Calhoun to sound out Jackson, stood on the steps of the Main Portico with Polk, who had escorted them outside to their carriage.
How much of their agitation was liquor-induced was hard for Polk to tell: both men were as riled now as when they had arrived, despite the fact that Jackson had ordered the servants to stop serving the moment they had been announced.
“It’s a compact, not a commandment,” McDuffie continued to sputter. “An agreement. Well, agreements sometimes need to be revisited; if necessary, renegotiated. Or terminated. That applies to the Constitution, too. The individual states entered into both pacts peacefully and of our own free will. If necessary, we will seek to withdraw in the same manner.”
He looked at Polk. “That Jackson acknowledges the potential for such an extreme solution is one of only two rays of hope we can carry back to our caucus, Mr. Polk. That and the position that slavery is exempt from tampering as a condition of the Compact itself! I suggest he get word to the rest of the leadership tomorrow morning that the South expects their support when we jointly caucus in the afternoon. That is, if he and they care about maintaining the Dominion intact.
“A united front will send the Duke scurrying back to advise Parliament against ram-rodding this abomination down our throats.” He nodded grimly. “It’s the leverage we’ll need to negotiate this, under Jackson’s leadership.
“Make sure, Mr. Polk, that he and they understand that,” McDuffie added as he and Troup climbed into their carriage.
It’s a brilliant political ploy, thought Polk, Calhoun has devised: having the South act as if we naturally expect the support of the rest of the Dominion. Because if that support fails to materialize, we have yet another grievance to place before our Southern people.
And even though the legal grounds for the exemption are flimsy at best, that argument, too, will strike the average Southerner as a question of inherent rights threatened. What sane man would argue that Randolph and the other Southern delegates to the Continental Congress would have agreed to the Compact if they thought it could be turned into a weapon against our institutions?
The Governor-General will not be immune to the call of the South. In the end, he’ll fight for the way of life he’s known and loved. I see three options here: a complete Dominion exemption; break-up of the Dominion into slave and free provinces or complete independence. Jackson has the prestige to see any of the three enacted. With Calhoun and the others pressuring from the outside and myself secretly doing the same on the inside, the Old Man will come around…
Let Parliament debate emancipation in London. Here in Georgetown, we will debate the value and importance of the Compact itself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Residency
Georgetown, D.C.
March 3, 1833, 7 p.m.
Leaning on his cane, Jackson stood at the window of the second floor private dining room and watched the snow fall furiously. After a two-week warm spell that had appeared to signal the coming of spring, the weather had now turned mulishly, even vengefully, colder and nastier. Well, he thought with a grin, whoever does turn out tomorrow for the Inaugural will be hoping for a short speech. Which is exactly what I plan to deliver…
Burr had arrived, as requested, about two hours ago, through the Rear Portico, though the steadily falling snow had provided sufficient camouflage in and of itself. He was now charming Eliza Blair, who
had apparently never heard of him, as they awaited the arrival of Sarah Polk for dinner.
Frank Blair had been astonished when the Colonel had been announced into the kitchen cabinet meeting, the G-G thought, still smiling. I’ll have to remind him that Burr’s stay in town is not grist for that newspaper of his, The Globe. Though the paper will again be a vital Administration tool in this new crisis. Polk, who of course knows of the Tennessee legends concerning Burr and myself, did not seem totally surprised. Lewis Cass, however, was floored…
Perhaps James’ capacity for astonishment has already been exceeded by the weekend’s events; he had sat back quietly to see what new surprises were in store after being introduced to Aaron. Cass, meanwhile, had stared at Burr as if the Colonel was Lazarus exiting the tomb…
Without disclosing the whereabouts of their meeting (I must remember to question young Wilder tomorrow), Burr had reported that Wellington approved of the plan to call the 23rd Congress into session in early June to deal with the crisis. That will allow plenty of time for all factions in the new Congress to get a handle on the people’s opinions before opening the debate here. The Colonel had added, seemingly off-handedly, that Chief Justice Marshall was “confident” a majority of the Court would rule, if called upon, that Parliament was well within its rights under terms of the Compact to impose emancipation…and that the Constitution required the G-G to enforce it.
We were all caught by surprise at the mention of Marshall and the Court, though I should have anticipated it.
“His Grace has been thorough, Colonel Burr,” Blair had said, “lining up the Court well in advance of any legal challenge. What other ‘allies’ has he lined up, may I ask?”
Polk had also moved quickly in: “Yes, especially what about Mr. Van Buren? He has been most conspicuously absent these past few days…”
