by James Devine
“At any rate, he apparently has developed a liaison of his own with the proprietress, one Mrs. Casgrave.”
Wellington stood up. “As you see, gentlemen, we now have our friend in our sights. But his well-being is not why I briefed you. You, Mr. Governor-General, were entitled to know about this Syrian adventure, both as a senior officer of His Majesty’s Government and because of it’s, as I say, ‘ramifications’ for your internal debate. Having told you as much as we know, Sir John and I will withdraw.”
Wellington and Jackson bowed stiffly and formally to each other and Sir John nodded respectfully to the others before leading Wellington to the door. Wellington was halfway through the doorway when he paused and turned:
“The debate in your Senate, you know, has been most impressive; the arguments most cogent. I look forward to your decision, Mr. Governor-General, now that you have received that ‘sense of the people’ you so aptly sought.”
The door closed; fortunately before Jackson could offer a retort…
__________
Georgetown, DC
June 8, 1833
Dawn:
There were all kinds of consternation being expressed in Georgetown as dawn broke:
Tousaint D’Overture Numidia was muttering to himself over Ugene’s failure to appear at Monticello last night. While Cris Donfield had passed off the no-show with the observation that Doby might have gotten lucky with some young lovely, Tousaint was more concerned that the Interior Department man had gotten cold feet and fled. Well, won’t take four to capture this old man and his big aide. And Motley’s the key, anyway, since it’s his people who will be hiding Wellington at Huntley. Still, it isn’t like Ugene to get scared…
___________
Finally informed of the plot and its particulars, Capt. Harry Bratton was livid. Livid that these colonials had withheld information concerning the Duke’s safety until last night’s midnight summons to Scott’s townhouse. Equally, if not more livid, that the colonials’ plan---which there was no longer time to alter---put the Duke, his responsibility, at risk. And livid most of all that the damn Old Man had agreed to play the bait in this scheme, which seemed bloody unnecessary and designed only to conform to the rules of their damnable constitution! Why, at home, we’d simply pick the buggers up right now and let them rot in the Tower---or someplace worse---until they confessed! I’m 100 percent for habeas corpus…but not when it interferes with national security and keeping Old Hook Nose alive and well. Especially on my watch!
___________
There was consternation and anger at The Residency, too. The G-G was livid…but not because of the uncovered plot. Jackson, as a planter, had lived with real and perceived slave plots all his life. He thought Scott’s report last night had been plausible and his proposed response correct. No, what had the G-G enraged was the thought of another meeting between Wellington and Governor Floyd.
“By the Eternal,” he thundered at Frank Blair, whom he had summoned for an early morning breakfast conference. “His Grace,” Jackson made the title a sneer, “is supposed to be a messenger. He tells us what London is doing and waits for our response. Damn it all, he shouldn’t be sticking his big, crooked nose in our internal political processes!”
“Now, Andrew.” Blair was smooth and soothing as he broke open a hot roll and sipped coffee. “I think it takes an extraordinary amount of courage for Wellington to agree to risk his life in order to foil this insane plot. As for the meeting with Floyd, well, if the Governor can get His Grace to consider changing the emancipation bill’s terms to get the blacks out of the Dominion and back to Africa or Central America or such, why not?"
Recently, there had been increasing sentiment for shipping all the blacks in the USBA to the newly-founded West African country of Liberia. Or, to sending them to some closer Central American jungle like Honduras or Nicaragua. Floyd was reportedly in favor of this approach, which also counted Henry Clay and Chief Justice Marshall among its adherents.
“Hmm. Can think of more than a few white men I’d like to ship to Liberia. Starting with Clay and Calhoun…”
Blair simply grinned and dug into his ham and eggs.
___________
Tom Wilder wasn’t happy, either. Since he had been the one to uncover the plot---in actuality, Harper had before simply dumping the report in Tom’s lap---the Lieutenant thought he was entitled to command, or at least assist, the rescue party. But the General had assigned the duty to the Marines. Captain Goodwin would command.
Teacher’s pets. Damn pretty boys. Always strutting around in their fancy uniforms. Look like heroes for taking down three or four damn darkies... Like to see them chasing around Arkansas Territory after the Comanche…
___________
And so the hours passed till Wellington emerged from the Residency and, with Captain Bratton his only apparent guard, mounted up and headed for the Long Bridge and Cranford.
While Moses, who could and would have put an end to the whole grotesque scenario with one loud curse and a clenched fist, was left in the dark, greeting customers and shoeing and renting out horses in his stables next to The Church of Jesus Christ, Liberator.
___________
Calhoun Residence
Georgetown, D.C.
June 8, 1833, 9 a.m.:
“I questioned how long it would be before our ‘English overseer’ decided to bring Jackson up-to-date on world affairs.” Calhoun was his usual sarcastic self, even over the bacon-and-eggs.
“You say Jackson’s response was muted, eh? Once he got over the initial insult, you mean!”
Polk and the Kitchen Cabinet had spent the remainder of last evening debating the position the G-G should take, in view of Wellington’s bombshell report, in his upcoming speech. A speech, the Kitchen Cabinet had finally decided, that should be postponed some days.
This morning’s breakfast had been previously scheduled and North Carolina’s Brown, Troup, McDuffie and several other fire-eaters were also in attendance as Polk made his report.
Calhoun smiled his dark smile as he looked around the table while his negro butler oversaw the removal of dishes and the arrival of the next course.
“Wellington has not only brought Jackson up-to-date, but has sent him a multi-faceted message: The crisis in Asia Minor has precedence because of the over-riding importance of ensuring both the safety of India and the trade routes to-and-from. Therefore, the Jackson Administration must defuse the emancipation crisis here, with a military solution out-of-the-question.
“’And the only way to accomplish that task is by means of an exemption. But Jackson must arrange it himself; for while he, Wellington, will accept it, he must appear to have no prior knowledge of, or participation in, its development.’”
Smiles of impending triumph broke out across the table. Only Troup seemed concerned: “James, is that the rationale for the delay in Jackson’s address? So he can ‘arrange things himself’?
“Well, Senator,” Polk paused and looked thoughtful, “I’m not completely convinced that the G-G has fully, err, ‘digested’”--the others laughed in appreciation of the pun--“the Duke’s message in the totality John has analyzed it.
“Once we got past Andy’s predictable outburst over Wellington’s high-handedness in withholding the news until this late date, discussion centered on the remarkable solidarity of the other sections in supporting London’s subversion of the Compact and the Constitution. Actually, I think the G-G, though he’ll never admit it, especially to himself, wants to see what Clay will offer on Monday.”
Brown broke in anxiously: “Surely Frelinghuysen’s speech made it clear that New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania will support virtually any compromise…”
It was Calhoun who answered: “Yes, those damn Yankees will go to any lengths to preserve business-as-usual. And despite Benton and Clay’s stand for the Dominion, there’s 200,000 slaves in those two states alone. Neither state, Kentucky in particular, can simply adjust its way-of-life to the pr
ospect of having all those darkies wandering around free and undirected…
“That’s why I expect to hear from ‘Harry of the West’ in the next day or so. He’ll work out an exemption that satisfies this man Ewing and his Westerners. Then, knowing the Yankees will go along with just about anything, he’ll come to us. There may be strings attached that I’ll have to cut off---perhaps accept a few to save several faces---but eventually, he’ll present it to Jackson.”
Nodding his head, the long hair bouncing off his shoulders, Calhoun looked pleased. “Probably through you, James, or perhaps Frank Blair. At any rate, by the time Jackson comes to the Hill next week, we’ll have our exemption in the bag.”
McDuffie looked at his chief. “And Wellington will go along?”
“Yes. In view of the Syrian situation, he’ll have to. And once he puts his prestige behind it, Parliament will accept an exemption---though perhaps not an all-inclusive one---despite Quincy Adams’ predictable howling.
“After all, the ‘Hero of Waterloo’ will have saved the Empire once again by securing peace in America. And, therefore, in India, too.”
___________
The Deerhead Inn
June 8, 1833, 11 a.m.:
With a brood of over a dozen children to support back in Ohio, Thomas Ewing was resigned to the confines of a hotel room while in Georgetown. Shabby as it might be, the Deerhead was as good as any. Now, on Saturday morning, he was sitting at a back table in the dining room, grudgingly accepting a compromise proposal worked out by Clay, Benton and Frelinghuysen over the course of the two previous days. The trio had arranged in a late night message to meet him for a 9 a.m. breakfast.
“Then you’re agreed, Senator, that we should now proceed en mass to The Residency to offer the G-G this compromise? Even before we propose it to either the abolitionists or the Southern radicals?”
Clay was sizing Ewing up shrewdly. He had paid scant attention to the Ohioan in the previous Congress, though Dan Webster had labeled him a ‘comer’ in their late afternoon drinking sessions in Clay’s office. Knowing that his own very appearance might be enough to set Jackson off, Clay intended to remain in the background during the scheduled negotiations at The Residency this afternoon. Since Benton, too, had clashed personally with the G-G (an infamous Nashville bar brawl that had led to the young Benton’s evacuation to Missouri over 20 years prior), someone else was required to take the lead. The patrician Frelinghuysen would, in his own way, also be oil to Jackson’s water…
The Ohioan thought the proposal overly generous to the South---from the abolitionist point of view, to say nothing of London’s---yet probably not generous enough for Calhoun’s faction. The Southern fire-eaters smelled blood, in his opinion, and would not accept any limitations on slavery or its expansion westward.
Clay’s compromise called for a 25-year exemption from the Parliamentary bill, on the grounds that, while eliminating bondage elsewhere would simply allow the slaves freedom in societies they would invariably come to dominate, the blacks here would be entering a predominately white, educated society. The 25-year exemption would be utilized in part to bring rudimentary education---financed by the Empire and overseen by the Dominion---to the slaves so that, at the end of the period, they would have a better chance for survival. While minimally affecting the Southern culture and economy.
To sweeten the deal further, the Administration, backed by Congressional resolution, would urge and work for Empire absorption of Texas, by whatever means necessary.
“Well, Senators,” Ewing sighed and looked at the trio, “if we go to The Residency as a centrist block and can get Old Jack to sign on, it at least provides a starting point from which to negotiate. And might ratchet down the rhetoric among the wild men on both sides.”
He frowned suddenly: “But what will Wellington say? He came here to enforce the existing emancipation bill. We’re watering that down, from his original perspective, considerably.”
“Well, Tom,” Hart Benton said with a grin, “one duck at a time. Let’s concentrate on getting a Dominion response.”
___________
John Tyler’s Townhouse
Georgetown, D.C.
June 8, 1833, 7:00 p.m.:
The Southern inner-circle---the Calhouns, Troups, McDuffie---had all gathered for a previously arranged dinner-party at the Tylers when James and Sarah Polk arrived shortly before 7 p.m.
Polk, whose wife had become resigned to his prolonged absences, had spent a fascinating afternoon at The Residency after leaving Calhoun’s breakfast meeting. Now he reported to an enthralled audience:
A group composed of Clay, Benton, Ewing and Frelinghuysen---calling themselves the ‘Centrist Committee’---had appeared at The Residency around 1 p.m., expecting a sit-down with the Governor-General. Jackson, however, was closeted with General Scott and the Secretary of War all afternoon. The G-G had come out briefly to authorize him and Blair to meet with the committee and to brief them on the Syrian situation, including its implications for the emancipation debate. The G-G’s secretary, Donelson, had shuttled between the two meetings, updating Jackson…but never explaining exactly what was happening in the Old Man’s private office.
Polk then explained, to much initial glee (though Calhoun’s dark smile barely registered), Clay’s proposal. “Now then, there are three additional steps ascertained: The Committee, or at least Clay and possibly Benton, will seek a meeting with you, John, for tomorrow. A message may be waiting at your townhouse. Another meeting, of course, will be arranged to brief Webster and the lesser of his fanatics.
“Finally, a meeting of the Kitchen Cabinet will begin at The Residency at 1 p.m. tomorrow to discuss the proposal. Hopefully, we’ll find out what all this War Department business is about.”
Calhoun waited till the comments had died off before speaking.
“I’ll receive Harry and whoever else shows up. We can entertain any and all proposals without committing to any…until we see what Jackson officially has to say later in the week.
“As for this ‘War Department business,’ well, I have a good sense of what that’s all about…and why the meeting went on so long.
“James, you’ll of course let me know the outcome immediately post tomorrow’s meeting. Pay particular attention to Cass’ reaction to all this. I believe he and Jackson received quite a shock today in their meeting with Scott. See what you can find out…
“Meanwhile, ladies and gentlemen, while there are many long and excruciating turns yet to navigate, I believe our cause grows ever closer to reality. I believe a toast is in order.” He smiled, tiredly but fully, for the first time all evening as the others applauded loudly.
Even though none, save Floride, were completely sure what cause it was…
___________
Arlington-Georgetown Road
June 8, 1833
8 pm:
Since Tousaint and Ugene both worked for the Dominion government, and had the necessary identification to prove it to any snickering guards, they had little trouble getting across the Long Bridge and into Virginia. Motley, with identification that demonstrated that his family were tenant farmers at Hunting Creek Farm, had come across the previous night and had remained south of Cranford. Only Crispus had significant explaining to do. Which he accomplished by flashing his Spanish Consulate ID and mumbling about delivering papers to the Spanish commercial agent in Richmond.
What none---except Ugene---suspected was that the guards had been instructed to let them pass with no more than cursory harassment. The guards, Marines dressed in civilian attire, had of course been furnished their descriptions and checked each off the list as they came across.
There was enough traffic on the Georgetown-Alexandria road that none of the gang wondered about the lack of enforcement between the Bridge and Cranford. Motley and Donfield were simply happy to disappear into the traffic, while Tousaint, with that cockiness that Ugene correctly identified as arrogance, thought that four young blacks, riding separately
over two days, was too sophisticated a plan for any dumb white soldiers or marshals to decipher.
The operation was to commence when Wellington, alone or with his aide, was sighted riding back from Cranford. While the other three were still at work, Motley, with a day off from the Indian Queen, had been hiding in the woods about halfway from Cranford to the Bridge since noon. He spotted the Duke---by this time everyone in Georgetown, white or black, could identify him---accompanied by one solidly built aide, ride by about going south two hours later. Crispus, who had made friends with the white American in charge of the Consulate’s physical plant and could get off an occasional hour or two early, rode in two hours later.
From Tousaint’s perspective, getting Doby and himself to the rendezvous location on time was the trickiest part of the operation. But Ugene had been waiting when he rode past the War-Interior building around 5:30 on his favorite mount from the family stables. Tousaint grinned at Doby’s problems with the horse Jurgurtha had rent him at noon time but made little conversation as the two passed through the apparently flimsy security and clattered out onto the Bridge. Unless Wellington has indigestion or something and leaves early, we’ll be there with time to spare.
___________
General Scott had set up his operational headquarters at Arlington House and, with a good view of the road, had been waiting since leaving the Residency. Still smarting from the General’s decision to place the operation in the hands of Captain Goodwin and the Marines, Lieutenant Wilder was with him, though Tom was sent by back roads to secure the proposed southern escape route to Hunting Farm once Tousaint and Doby were identified as coming down the road. A strong Army guard also set up a roadblock just above Arlington to seal off the northeastern route back into Georgetown. Both Tom’s command and the soldiers north of Arlington had fanned off the road under Scott’s design to close off the woods as if by swinging doors inward should the gang attempt to escape by scattering. A third USBAA contingent from the 4th Artillery had already secured Hunting Creek Farm itself once Motley had been spotted heading northeast.
