by James Devine
“Yes Sir!” The relief in Tom’s voice was obvious. Thank God he thinks there could be some validity to this crazy story. As I told Harps last night, I wasn’t looking forward to the General throwing me out his office window. Guess Arkansas will still have to deal with the Comanche without any more help from me…
___________
The Capitol Building
June 6, 1833, 11 a.m.:
While Calhoun had forcibly spoken for the single-minded Southern caucus on Tuesday (the few moderates like Georgia’s Forsyth having been cast out like Biblical lepers), Webster had spoken not for, but among, the enraged abolitionists of New England yesterday.
A weary Van Buren had announced at the conclusion of the long, humid session---a cloud of pipe and cigar smoke had hovered over the chamber, its smell mixing with the hot air and sweating bodies to produce a truly uncomfortable atmosphere---that he would hope the remaining sections--the West, the so-called Border States and the MidAtlantic States--would follow the Southern example and choose a single spokesman.
Now Ewing signaled for recognition. Previously informed, the Vice G-G happily called him to the podium. The still-arriving crowd---which had drifted off yesterday, repetitiously bored---began to hum in anticipation: the West, even the diplomatic newcomers (Count Ignatieff among them) realized, would be key in determining Congressional reaction.
The continuing heat wave announcing the arrival of the equatorial Georgetown summer was joined in progress this morning by a crashing thunderstorm. The rain continued to beat its audible tattoo on the big brown Capitol dome as the Ohioan commenced his address in a tone appropriate for the dark, dreary but electric-laced weather.
The West, Ewing began---and he identified his constituency in this case as Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Ontario and Michigan Territory---contained but 791 slaves overall, all but 44 of them held in southern Illinois, according to the 1830 census.
“Slavery, as a factor or condition in the daily lives of our constituents, is obviously negligible.”
Internal improvements, including a better transportation system to get their products to the big Eastern markets, was the West’s major concern, along with pacification of the Indians; he noted the raids the previous Fall by the Sioux into the western portions of the Michigan Territory and other Indian attacks in the unorganized but growing lands west of Ontario.
“We in the West do have a collective conscience, however,” he declared, his tone becoming stronger and more forceful, “and a collective commitment.
“We believe literally in that portion of the preamble to the USBA Constitution that states ‘all men are created equal,’ and we are committed to that portion of the preamble, as well as the entire Constitution itself.”
The crowd, which had continued to fill the galleries as the storm-aided congestion in front of the building gradually eased, had fallen silent when Ewing opened his remarks. Now, an audible gasp rippled through the galleries as the little-known Ohioan flung his verbal gauntlet at the stone-faced Calhoun. For the first time in some days, Count Ignatieff, once again sitting cramped shoulder-to-shoulder with Renkowiitz and the French C-G, began to relax. This has possibilities, he thought. It appears Calhoun has underestimated the opposition…
“Although our states were not party to the original Compact---indeed, a goodly portion of the West does not appear on any maps of the early USBA---we gave our solemn vow to abide by, participate in and cherish the Compact when we individually applied for statehood.”
The galleries’ rumblings grew louder and Van Buren was forced to utilize the gavel once again. Standing beside Frank Blair (General Scott was absent this day on War Department business), Aaron Burr whistled softly.
“One Dominion: once in, never out. So much for ‘concurrent majorities’ and our grandfathers’ property rights.’” Blair gave the Colonel a ruefully-impressed look. As usual, the old man had summed up the issue with brevity and clarity. He’s still sharp as a tack. What a pair he and Andy must have made in the old days…and how the hell did Jefferson ever out-maneuver him?
“We have heard, earlier in this debate, the claim by my distinguished colleague from South Carolina that the form of ‘benevolent paternalism’ he proclaims to be practiced by the planter class compares most favorably to the plight of the working classes in Europe and the large Northern cities.
“Having never been to Europe and having only a fleeting observation of living conditions among the workers of the great Northern cities, I will not debate that the slaves of the average planter may in fact be better cared for in their dotage than the city workers.”
Gasps of delighted disbelief (from the Southerner delegation and their gallery partisans) and groans of dismayed shock (from other Senators and the remainder of the galleries) broke loose as Ewing paused.
“Except that no such benevolence justifies the forcible denial of personal liberty! The city worker is not forcibly sent to his manufactory, dock or stable; he is free to quit his position and leave! To leave Europe for America; to leave the North for the West! The North, in turn, welcomes the European worker and offers him wages for specified work. The West offers the migrating Northern worker the same, if and when he chooses to leave that manufactory position. At his own determination and without opposition!” Ewing’s voice boomed across the chamber before he again paused.
“That, of course, is the difference,” he began again in a softer tone that forced many in the galleries to lean forward to hear as the angry jeers of the Southerners rose in earnest.
“’All men are created equal.’ Having ratified the Constitution, all the states are recorded as agreeing to that proposition. Having agreed that ‘all men are created equal,’ no rational man, nor group of men standing as representatives for all other citizens of their state, can then claim another equally-created man as his property. And, therefore, the ancient, revered and guaranteed right to hold property is, in this case, a specious argument.
“My southern collegues, you have already agreed that all men are created equal. Thus, none can be considered property!”
The entire Senate was on its feet; fights were breaking out throughout the galleries (some involving parasol-wielding ladies). Van Buren gaveled in vain and even Colonel Burr looked alarmed, while Blair quickly scanned the chamber in hopes that military uniforms might somehow appear.
Gradually, the dim quieted as peacemakers prevailed, both in the Senate well and in the galleries. (The Vice G-G was later to attribute much of the gallery policing to diplomatic volunteers.)
When peace, if not harmony, was eventually restored, the Ohio perpetrator of the explosion stood his ground behind the podium.
“These many individual states having agreed to the proposition that ‘all men are created equal’ when separately ratifying our Constitution; having so ratified in order to become part of a greater coalition; have thus subordinated their rights to act independently of the dictates of the greater coalition; just as they agreed to subordinate their rights to individual action independent of the dictates of the Empire when accepting the Colonial Compact, cannot now claim special regional rights.”
The well and galleries were now apparently too spent to register their collective feelings on this blunt negative assessment of the celebrated states rights theory. An eerie silence engulfed the chamber as Ewing concluded his remarks:
“The West sympathizes with the South’s predicament and will support any measures to make the legally-justified transition more palpable. But we will oppose, with all the strength we can muster, any attempts to ignore, nullify or forcibly restrain the implementation of this legislation where applicable any- and everywhere in our beloved Dominion.”
The interior thunderstorm having abated, the exhausted Senators and visitors filed out of the chamber and into the Rotunda to discover that the exterior thunderstorm, too, was over. As they walked down and around Capitol Hill, to their carriages or towards their destinations afoot, they found the outside temperature equal to tha
t of the crisis within.
___________
Marine Hospital
June 7, 1833
9 p.m.:
This thing, thought Lawrence Eugene Doby, has gotten completely out of hand.
Never thought the white higher-ups, like this man Scott, would take a nigga like me seriously. Thought they scoff and snicker. That way, I could take part in the snatch, then, after they posted a reward, Ol’ Ugene be first in line to claim it, since I done told them where the Duke be hidden even before the snatch. And even if they caught Simba and the others beforehand, that'd leave the way open for me to stay at Interior, maybe with a promotion...
He was still going to take part in the snatch as it now stood, but under the watchful eye of, as far he could knew, the entire USBA Army, or at least that part of it in-and-around Georgetown.
Eugene didn’t know the details, but he was aware that the woods on either side of the road from Long Bridge past Cranford would be teeming with white soldiers long before the Duke ever left The Residency. But they wouldn't make a move until the gang actually accosted Wellington.
Doby hadn’t understood that; had been educated only by his talk earlier this evening with Harper. He had been dragged down to Scott’s office, put before the General and gradually realized that even though the whites were taking this seriously, Simba and the others would not be arrested immediately.
It had been Harper, to whom he had gone just two days ago with his story---the Northerner always treated him with more respect that the other, mostly Southern, Interior Department workers---who had explained:
“There is no legal ground yet to arrest anybody, Eugene. They haven’t done anything and there’s no proof they intend to. Just your word. Not enough, especially if all three of the others deny it.
“No, they have to be caught in the act. That’s why this has to go down as planned---including you riding with them…”
"But what'll keep the soliders from shooting all of us once they do pounce?"
Harper was silent for a moment. He had been wondering the same thing himself. "Well, Eugene. You said Tousaint wanted to keep this non-violent. If your friends don't shoot first, the Army is under orders not to fire." Which doesn't mean they haven't been authorized to use swords...
Doby was dubious: "I don't know. Them soldiers see us pointing pistols at Wellington, they're liable to get the wrong idea..."
Pistols that you're not supposed to have access to, in any case. "Eugene, normally I'd agree. But the General has issued strict orders. He realizes Tousaint doesn't intend to harm The Duke. What would be the sense of that? Can't ransom too many slaves for a corpse... Besides, I understand you've given physical descriptions of your friends. The commander will have those, as well as your's…and he's under orders to make sure nothing happens to you, no matter what."
Doby shook his head as he remembered the conversation. Yeah, this thing has gotten completely out of hand.
So he thought, as he sat, under guard, in the barracks at the Marine Hospital complex at the intersection of Massachusetts and Georgia Avenues in far southeast Georgetown and waited for the dawn.
___________
The Residency
June 7, 1833, 6 p.m.:
The Kitchen Cabinet meeting to discuss Jackson’s scheduled Monday speech was reviewing the final day of opening sectional debate when Andrew Donelson broke in to deliver a note from Wellington.
Jackson and his key advisors---Blair, Cass and Polk---had been encouraged by the lack of fireworks today: Speaking surprisingly briefly apiece, border state representatives Thomas Hart Benton and Henry Clay had both pledged support for the Compact and Constitution, but had urged the South to offer a compromise proposal.
“Defiance is self-defeating,” Benton had warned. “Missouri did not come into the Dominion because slavery was tolerated; and it will not leave if it is banned.”
Kentucky reported 165,000 slaves in the last census, Clay said. “More than Tennessee, Alabama or Louisiana apiece and more than Maryland, Mississippi and the Arkansas and Florida territories combined. But our state has three times as many free people who have enjoyed the peace and prosperity of the Dominion and the Empire. We will not sacrifice the latter to maintain the former; we do, however, share the concerns of our Southern neighbors as to the fairness of the Parliamentary legislation. At the conclusion of this debate, Kentucky will offer resolutions designed to alleviate those unfairnesses.”
The MidAtlantic block had been blunt and business-like. “Free trade between the states and sections, as well as with the other portions of the Empire, has and will continue to propel economic growth,” said New Jersey’s Theodore Frelinghuysen, a staunch Dominion-Republican. “Nothing must be allowed to interfere. We will support compromise legislation and we will consider any resolutions, from Kentucky or elsewhere, which alleviate economic hardship on the South. However, the MidAtlantic States remain completely committed to both the Colonial Compact and the Constitution, both of which clearly allow King and Parliament to order the enforcement of Imperial law throughout the Dominion.”
“The question now,” Blair was saying, “is whether you, Andrew, should beat Clay to the punch by offering a compromise that…”
“Hold on Frank!” Polk interrupted with an anger that surprised the others. “Our position has not been determined, the last I checked. Yet you’re for offering compromises…which translate into acceptance by the Administration of Parliament’s right to shove this down our collective throats.”
Cass began to open his mouth, then shrewdly closed it again in recognition of the sudden narrowing of the G-G’s eyes.
“It would appear, James, that you have staked your position,” Jackson said in a low voice that to the startled Blair sounded suspiciously like a rattlesnake’s hiss. “Are we to understand that you have thrown in your lot with that of Cal…”
“Pardon me, Mr. Governor, but a note from the Duke.” Donelson’s eyes were wide and popping as he crossed the room and handed Jackson a folded slip of paper. “He’s standing just outside there waiting for the answer.”
The G-G opened the sheet and looked thoughtfully impressed. “It appears, gentlemen, that Wellington wishes to intervene in our little conference. Apparently wishes to brief us on a, ahem, ‘matter of the gravest urgency.’” Rising from his chair with the help of the cane, he flashed his advisors a grim face: “Perhaps that vermin Calhoun has beaten us all to the punch: a compromise or ultimatum of his own.”
___________
The others had risen as Jackson teetered his way to the door, exchanging baffled, dumbfounded looks. Polk, who had never before experienced Jackson’s wrath, was both relieved and confused: he hadn’t meant to show his hand concerning emancipation and he couldn’t believe Calhoun would act without informing him…
“Well, Sir, come in. And Sir John also.” Jackson was gracious but his surprise at seeing Burrell was evident. “You needn’t an invitation to sit in on any meeting in this house, Sir Arthur.” He paused again, his lips puckering: “A night off from the rigors of Georgetown’s social circuit? Or simply killing time before a late supper elsewhere?”
The others laughed nervously as Wellington motioned them back into their seats. He indicated the whisky jug on a side table. Burrell then proceeded to pour two glasses as the Duke began to speak.
“Mr. Governor-General, gentlemen, I am here tonight on official Government business. That is why Sir John has accompanied me. A volatile situation has developed in Europe which unfortunately may have---may already be having---ramifications here in British America. You should be aware of them, Mr. Governor, before preparing your address…”
As Sir John’s briefing progressed, Jackson’s face reddened dangerously. Blair and Polk exchanged worried looks and even Wellington seemed aware that the G-G was waging an internal battle for self-control.
That goddamned Calhoun: cavorting with a Russian spy! No wonder the bastard seems so cocky. He thinks he’s playing with a stacked dec
k… The G-G’s anger finally burst and he slammed his cane down on the floor.
”You mean there’s been a Russian agent floating free around this city---and elsewhere in the Dominion---for months and you people at the Liaison Office haven’t done anything about it? And you haven’t informed me or anyone else in this Administration!”
Wellington, who was prepared to flatly lie if pressed on whether “anyone…in this Administration” knew of the Calhoun-Russian connection, instead jumped on the Liaison Office’s failure to act.
“Gentlemen, our hands have been and continue to be tied. Clearly, Calhoun knows about Syria and has deduced the strain a two-front war would put on the Exchequer’s resources, especially with so much already committed to emancipation relief in this and other parts of the Empire. The man, after all, has been a senior member of your government for many years and is something of an intellectual. If a misguided one…
“We surmise that this Russian is a Czarist agent and has been in communication with Calhoun over a period of some months. But that is not illegal. We cannot arrest this Count, or whatever he is, for passing along news from St. Petersburg, much as we would like to. I admit, the reconnaissance we have had on him has been spotty at best and failed miserably when he slipped out of town. But there are no grounds to hold him, any more than there are grounds to arrest Calhoun on suspicion of meeting with him.”
There was a short silence, broken by the pragmatic Blair: “Is this Russian still in Georgetown?”
Burrell was eager to furnish some positive news. “Yes. He’s attended each day’s debates and was seen at a function Tuesday evening at the French Consulate.” His face blushing slightly, he continued: “He has been spending a great deal of time also at a local tavern. ‘The Golden Eagle,’ I believe it is called. You may be familiar…?
