The Dominion's Dilemma: The United States of British America (58 page)

      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 deck…
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…?

      “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 prospect of having all those darkies wandering around free and undirected…