The Dominion's Dilemma: The United States of British America (26 page)

___________

     Captain Bratton, in turning around to survey the remaining taproom crowd, had seen Lieutenant Wilder hoisting beers with another young British American. The two seemed to find the entire situation amusing. Harry finally got the younger officer’s eye and the two nodded. As the room was now emptying rapidly---Georgetown early on had earned a reputation as an ‘early-to-rise, early-to-bed’ capital with a short, intense evening social life---he moved easily down the bar towards Tom and his friend.
      “Ah, Lieutenant. Thought I might catch sight of you here. Establishment hasn’t changed a bit. Just as I remembered it…”
      Just wait till Joanne gets you upstairs. Then tell me if it’s the same
. “Well Captain, perhaps you have a slightly different perspective than mine.
     “By the way, this is David Harper of the Interior Department. Dave tells me much of his correspondence to London is initially directed to you.”
      Bratton’s eyes lit up. “I say, Mr. David Harper! Of course! Jolly good to meet you in person after all this time. Though I feel that in many ways we are already well acquainted after all the paperwork we’ve exchanged. Delighted to meet you. Was planning on getting over to the Interior Department within the next day or so. Should have done so sooner, but was called away on His Majesty’s business right after the welcoming ceremonies…”
       Harper shook the big Briton’s hand warmly. “Glad to finally make your acquaintance in person, Mr. Bratton. Or should I say, Captain Bratton. Does resuming your military position mean you’re no longer at the Office?”
       “Certainly not, Mr. Harper. I’m simply back on full pay for the duration of His Grace’s tour of the Dominion. By fall I expect to be back in my cubbyhole in foggy old London. I say, however, how about another round?  Or are you, too, evacuating this fine establishment?”
       Tom couldn’t resist: “Another round would be much appreciated, Captain. And no, we’re not evacuating. David and I plan to have a late supper here. We usually do two or three times a week, but the Duke’s arrival has kept both of us on the run.” He paused.
      “Would you care to join us?”
      Bratton, who kept peeking around toward the back room doors, shook his head. “Normally it would be my pleasure. However, I do have a late evening supper engagement of my own.” Joanne at that moment emerged gliding through the doors. “Which I believe is imminent.”
       The proprietress was plainly not pleased to see two of her lovers sharing a round of drinks, joined by that damn young War Department aide. Joanne, who prided herself on her sexuality and ability to arouse any man, could not understand how the Lieutenant seemed somehow invulnerable to her wiles. Right now, however, she had more important things to worry about.
      “Well Harry dear. I see you’ve identified the true powers behind our government. And they the true power behind the Empire…”
      Taken unawares---for Lieutenant Wilder had mentioned her name sparingly in his references to the Eagle---Captain Bratton smiled uncertainly. “Ah, Joanne my dear. So the Lieutenant wasn’t exaggerating. He and Mr. Harper actually are regulars. He’s just told me they sup here two or more evenings per week.”
        The proprietress was icy: “Yes and how fortunate tonight is one of them. Hello David. I didn’t expect you this evening. Nor your Army friend…”
      Harps was splendidly neutral. “Well Joanne, as you said, Tom and I do have the affairs of the Dominion to determine. Instead of burning the government’s candles, we thought tonight we’d take a break and utilize yours.”
      Stung by her offhand reference to him---and delighted to stroke a fire he could sense raging in the black-haired woman---Tom could not resist adding: “We’ve even asked the Captain to join us in order to bring a world perspective, but he seems to have a previous engagement.” He offered his most innocent blue-eyed smile.
      The look of rage that flashed across her face demonstrated that he had scored a direct hit. It also brought back Harper’s earlier remark about not crossing her. 
These two can
have her. Am I glad I stopped coming here
…
      Joanne had regained a measure of her self-control: “Captain, your table will be ready in 15 minutes. I’ll send a waitress over to remind you.” She turned and walked away, her compact behind frankly ogled by any number of men at the bar.
        For all his British sophistication, Harry Bratton was taken aback by the turn in the conversation. “Well gentlemen! From the attitude of the proprietress, am I to deduce the pair of you absconded with the tavern silverware last week? Or were you overly rambunctious with some of the hired help, eh?”
        Thomas laughed and pulled on his beer. “Sir, I am, by act of the USBA Congress, an officer and a gentleman. Certainly you don’t think…”
        “…that either of us would dally with the hired help in this establishment, Harry?” Dave completed in a tone of exaggerated injured shock. Harry joined in the general laughter as Harper continued:
      “Anyway, the next round’s on the Interior Department….” The trio lifted their glasses: “To the Interior Department.” Shortly afterward, Bratton vanished into the backroom, while the two British Americans found an empty table by a fireplace. When they had finished their meals and paid the bill he had not yet returned…

CHAPTER TWENTY

London, England
February 13, 1833:
     The dismal wet-and-dark afternoon matched the mood of Lord Palmerston as he emerged from his brougham in front of #10 Downing Street.
     He carried in his pocket notes from a report just arrived from St. Petersburg that had the potential, in his view, to blow the elaborate emancipation program out-of-the-water even before the legislation was introduced in Parliament.
And that,
he thought
, is the least of its possible
consequences.
       The Foreign Secretary passed quickly into the old house and was escorted directly to the Prime Minister’s office by one of the secretaries.  With the pained face of an old man who knows he has not long to serve, Lord Grey looked up from the papers spread across his desk: “Yes, Henry, what brings you up the stairs in such a rush? Surely Bonaparte hasn’t returned to raise another Grande Armee?”’
        Palmerston smiled as he shook his head but there was no mirth in his voice. “No Prime Minister. But the news is not good nevertheless. I’ve just received a visit from Baron Heytesbury, who’s just home from St. Petersburg. The Sultan, it seems, has asked the Russians for assistance against the Egyptians. The damn fool has invited them to land a force in Syria to cut off the Egyptians’ march on Constantinople!”
         Lord Grey’s spectacles slid down his many-veined nose. “And the Czar’s response?”
       “Why he’s ordered an army to Damascus! The bloody Ottomans have agreed to open the straights to a Russian fleet, warships as well as transports. They’re gathering at their Black Sea ports now. They’ll sail within 30 days!”
       The P.M.’s normally pale face had now gone gray. “Don’t those idiots in the Porte realize that the Russians, once landed, won’t leave until forced out? Why, the fools have virtually ceded Syria to the Bear!”
      “And, Prime Minister, left the Bear within striking distance of our shortest potential route to India…” Palmerston shook his head. “Our dream of a canal across the Suez could turn into a nightmare.” He balled his fists in frustration:
       “How could the Turks be so incredibly stupid?”
       Lord Grey had taken off his spectacles and dropped them on his stack of state papers. “Henry, this could upset the balance of power, not only in the Near East but in Europe itself…”
        The Foreign Secretary was grim: “I agree Prime Minister. If the Russians should somehow gain unlimited access to the Mediterranean through the Bosporus Straits, they will soon bite off all the Balkans. That would make the eastern Mediterranean their private lake. Then they can gobble up the rest of the Ottomans’ territory at their leisure: The Valley of the Euphrates, Palestine, Egypt. They’ll push on through to Persia and…”
       “And arrive at the gates of India fresh and ready to overpower us. Let St. Petersburg get its hands on India and the Romanovs will be invincible. We’d as well move His Majesty’s seat of government to Georgetown!” Lord Grey held his head in his hands.
       There was a tense silence in the room until Lord Palmerston cracked a smile. “Well Prime Minister, let us hope it does not come to
that
…
       “Anyway, enough reason to call the Cabinet into session, wouldn’t you say, My Lord?”
       The P.M. nodded. “Yes Henry, this news puts policies domestic and international in a new perspective. By George, colonial, too! We’ll meet tomorrow at 11 a.m. I assume all the members are in Town?”
      Lord Palmerston nodded. “I would assume so. In any case, I will return to the Foreign Office. I already have some options being developed for presentation. I’ll lay them before you and the Cabinet tomorrow. By the way, do you intend to notify Buckingham Palace?”
       Lord Grey had risen and was looking out his window. “When we have agreed on a plan. No reason to alarm the King just yet…”
       Palmerston nodded in agreement. “Yes…never alarm His Majesty unnecessarily…” They smiled and Palmerston turned to leave the room. Grey sighed heavily and returned to his desk.
Lord Melbourne, you are welcome to this old house. I’ve about had enough
glory…

Georgetown, D.C.
February 13, 1833:
     John C. Calhoun took stock of the Southerners gathered in the Senate cloakroom for the noontime meeting. It was too soon, of course, for those from the southwest---Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Tennessee---to have reached the capitol for the special session, but a good representation of the states closer to the District was in attendance. Unfortunately, he was disappointed in some of the faces, but felt the need to caucus before tonight’s state dinner.
     The fiery slavery advocate from Georgia, Senator George Troup, was here accompanied by the former governor of that state, newly-elected representative George Gilmour.  Calhoun’s staunchest ally, Representative George McDuffie of South Carolina, articulated the nullification argument, in Calhoun’s view, better than he himself did and had traveled with him and Floride on the boat from Charleston.  McDuffie was clearly not pleased that Georgia Representative John Forsyth was in the room; Forsyth was a loyal---“lapdog,” in McDuffie’s words---Jacksonian who opposed nullification and was, at best, lukewarm in his support of slavery.
      The Virginians, Tyler and Rives, had come from Richmond with Wellington; Calhoun wanted their views on the significance of the Duke’s visit. He knew where the two stood politically: Rives was a Jacksonian but a true Southerner in terms of states rights while Tyler’s opposition to Dominionist legislation went back almost 20 years.
     The two North Carolinians, Senators Willie Person Mangum and Bedford Brown, were moderates, but both had supported nullification. Calhoun felt he could count on them in any showdown. Also attending were Maryland’s two Senators, Joseph Kent and Ezekiel Chambers. Calhoun had little faith in or respect for either, but thought Maryland deserved to participate in the caucus.
      By the time the meeting broke up some 2 1/2 hours later, several things were clear: Maryland would stand with the South against the Bank but would not support any renewed nullification efforts; the group was united in its opposition to Dominion funding of intrastate internal improvement projects; more pressure must be brought on London during the session to annex, buy or seize Texas as the best way to offset growing abolitionist strength in the North; and Wellington’s visit was disquieting. (The two Virginians had related the conversation at Governor Floyd’s dinner party and subsequent follow-up conversations over the previous few days.)
   “This visit is extraordinary and unprecedented,” said Calhoun. “I’m baffled by Jackson’s apparently cavalier response to it. And I don’t accept for one moment that Wellington is here unofficially.
    “There is something going on, gentlemen, which, while it may not be sinister, is definitely troubling. A former Prime Minister, who is now the leader of the Parliamentary opposition and who once defeated the greatest conqueror since Caesar, does not cross the Atlantic in midwinter simply to tour our Dominion.
    “No, the Duke is here on the King’s business.  And,
whatever
that business
is
, it is
our business
to ascertain.” Calhoun paused and glanced around the room at his confederates.
     “Senator Tyler will introduce Troup and me to Wellington tonight and lead the conversation towards the slavery issue. As John has indicated, Sir Arthur has expressed a disquieting interest in it since arriving here. We must determine how strong that interest is.
   “The rest of you should be sure to speak individually to the Governor-General concerning Texas. We want Jackson to know he has support on that issue for taking on the Foreign Office.  I do not, of course, have any firm idea of his agenda for this special session, but we must not forego this opportunity to debate Texas on the floor of both Houses. So we need a strong statement from him in his speech to open the session.”
      With that, the group adjourned to prepare for the state dinner.

___________

    Count Nicholas Ignatieff was satisfied. Count Renkowiitz had taken one look at Ignatieff’s directive from the Czar---
the one Terravenissian and the other fools in London
failed to discover hidden in the handle of the long pistol returned to me when I
boarded that damned Pride of the Hudson---
and ceded him control of the Consulate.
     Ignatieff had predetermined to leave Renkowiitz (if found willing and able) in nominal charge of the Consulate’s day-to-day activities, but answerable, of course, to him. For that reason, the Consul would be attending tonight’s dinner at the residence of this colonial Governor-General, Jackson. The last thing Count Nicholas wanted was to draw attention to either the Consulate or himself while he familiarized himself with the situation and the players. He had ordered Renkowiitz to attend, taking with him the beautiful young Countess Caroline (perhaps there’d be time to attend to her at some point!), while he explored this drab little village in his ‘Karlhamanov’ guise.
      Ignatieff had already learned that the capital had been stunned when Wellington had unexpectedly ridden in; this “state dinner” was in his honor. According to Renkowiitz, all the C-Gs in the city would attend, along with members of the Dominion government and what few ranking military figures there were. Renkowiitz had also mentioned that Jackson had called a special session of the provincial parliament for next week. Count Karl mentioned the issues, but emancipation of the slaves was not among them. Apparently, Wellington had not yet broken that news to Jackson or anyone else.
       At Ignatieff’s direction, the Consulate’s political/intelligence staffer, Captain Alexei Drago, had been called in and ordered to prepare a briefing for Thursday morning on the overall political situation in the USBA. With that information and anything Renkowiitz came up with at the state dinner, he could then begin to develop a plan to identify any potential ‘rebel’ leaders.
        Count Nicholas had also probed Drago about Captain Bratton, but neither he nor Count Karl knew anything about him. The Count did vaguely recall seeing an officer who matched Bratton’s description at the Liaison Office’s welcoming reception 10 days before, but he had been just another in a group of British Army officers who had stayed close to the Duke. Drago’s assignment had thus been expanded to prepare a dossier on the Captain for the Thursday meeting.
        Now, with Drago hard at work and Renkowiitz preparing for the affair at The Residency---a pretentious old building that seemed almost quarantined by its surrounding parkland from the rest of the
city
---he would assume his ‘dissident’ persona and do some personal exploring…