They "of the western dome, whose weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence."

I had been so abashed by my wretched mistake that I had not so much as told the President who I was (though, truth to tell, he had not asked me, and it would have been only another impertinence on my part to have volunteered the information). Yet as I sat waiting for young Mr. Lewis, and reviewing in my mind the miserable events through which I had just passed, it suddenly occurred to me as very remarkable that Mr. Jefferson should have known I was from Philadelphia, when I thought I had been so particularly skilful in betraying no fact concerning myself. Moreover, he had not only guessed I was from Philadelphia; he must have guessed my identity also, for he had "communications of interest" for me.

My curiosity was now so thoroughly aroused, both as to how the President knew me and what his communications might be, that it began to efface the keenness of my mortification. In the midst of my wondering surmises, Mr. Lewis appeared and greeted me most affably; and when I had presented Captain Clarke's letter of introduction, he was, if possible, more affable still. He was an older-looking man than I had expected to see, and with so much of seriousness in his countenance, and yet of such frankness and earnestness in his manner, that it drew my interest and liking at once.

He was the bearer of a very polite message from the President, inviting me to dinner at the White House at four o'clock that afternoon; and then he proposed that we should set out at once for the Capitol, where, as he said, a debate of special interest was on the calendar.

I was much touched at the generosity of Mr. Jefferson in returning my discourtesy to himself by so courteously placing his secretary at my disposal for my entertainment, and nothing could have pleased me better than Mr. Lewis's proposal. It had been my intention to visit the Capitol as soon as this visit of ceremony should be performed, but to visit it with a guide so much at home as the President's secretary was good luck indeed.

I thought it still better luck when I found that, by Mr. Jefferson's special invitation, we were to sit in a small gallery set aside for the President and his friends, and to which a guard in uniform admitted us with a key. I was much impressed by the exterior of the Capitol (though in such an unfinished state), but when I found myself seated in the seclusion of the President's own private gallery, looking down upon the horseshoe of grave and distinguished senators, I could have wished that one of the ladies (of whom there were a number in the gallery opposite, and who cast many inquisitive glances at the two young men in the President's box) might have been Mademoiselle Pelagie, for I felt sure she would never again think of me as a boy, could she but see me in my present dignified surroundings.

But it was only for a moment that my attention was distracted by the ladies and by thoughts of mademoiselle. A gentleman was speaking (Mr. Lewis told me it was Mr. Ross of Pennsylvania) in a most impassioned manner, and the magic word "Mississippi" caught my ear and charmed my attention. Mr. Ross was saying:

"To the free navigation of the Mississippi we have undoubted right, from nature and also from the position of our Western country. This right and the right of deposit in the Island of New Orleans were solemnly acknowledged and fixed by treaty in 1795. That treaty has been in actual operation and execution for many years, and now, without any pretense of abuse or violation on our part, the officers of the Spanish government deny that right, refuse the place of deposit, and add the most offensive of all insults by forbidding us from landing on any part of their territory and shutting us out as a common nuisance. I declare it, therefore, to be my firm and mature opinion that so important a right will never be secure while the mouth of the Mississippi is exclusively in the hands of the Spanish. From the very position of our country, from its geographical shape, from motives of complete independence, the command of the navigation of the river ought to be in our hands.

"We are now wantonly provoked to take it. Hostility in its most offensive shape has been offered us, and hostility fatal to the happiness of the Western World. Why not seize, then, what is so essential to us as a nation? Why not expel the wrong-doers? Paper treaties have proved too feeble. Plant yourselves on the river; fortify the banks; invite those who have an interest at stake to defend it. Do justice to yourselves when your adversaries deny it, and leave the event to Him who controls the fate of nations!"

Ah, how his words burnt my brain! I was for leaving Mr. Lewis in the President's gallery, running down to the great entrance where I had left Fatima in charge of a negro boy, mounting her, and riding straight back to Kentucky. Once there, I was sure it would be an easy matter to raise a company of eager patriots and march at their head down the Great River to the hostile city. But Mr. Ross had not finished, and I could not lose a word of his impassioned speech:

"Why submit to a tardy and uncertain negotiation—a negotiation with those who have wronged you? When in possession you will negotiate with more advantage. You will then be in the position to keep others out. The present possessors have no pretense to complain, for they have no right to the country, by their own confession.

"The Western people will discover that you are making every effort they could desire for their protection. They will ardently support you in the contest, if a contest becomes necessary. Their all will be at stake, and neither their zeal nor their courage need be doubted.

"But after negotiations shall have failed; after a powerful, ambitious nation shall have taken possession of the key of their Western country and fortified it; after the garrisons are filled by the veterans who have conquered the East: will you have it in your power to waken the generous spirit of the West and dispossess them? No, no; their confidence in you as their rulers will be gone; they will be disheartened, divided, and will place no further dependence upon you."

At this moment two officers in uniform entered the Senate, preceding a gentleman who carried on a cushion a document. Immediately the President of the Senate, Mr. Burr (a man whom I had been reared to dislike and distrust above all men, and whose enmity for Mr. Hamilton was sufficient cause to make me his foe, yet whose attractive personality, seeing him for the first time, I could not deny), called the house to order, and requested Mr. Ross to defer the completion of his speech until a message from the House of Representatives should have been read.

I was all curiosity, for it seemed to me an imposing ceremony and one that must be of great moment. But I was doomed to disappointment. The gentleman bearing the document said something in a low tone to the clerk, who repeated it to Mr. Burr. Whereupon Mr. Burr rose in his seat.

"Gentlemen of the Senate," he said, "the House of Representatives sends you a confidential message. Sergeant-at-arms, clear the house!"

Mr. Lewis rose at once, and signaled to me to follow, which I did, very unwillingly. Outside in the corridors he said:

"I think this will be but a brief secret conference—most like we can return in a few minutes; and I will employ the interim in showing you the building."

From his manner I thought he must know the subject of the secret conference, as, indeed, being the President's private secretary, he would have every means of knowing. But he gave me no hint of it, and it was not until long afterward that I learned that in the half-hour we were shut out the Senate had confirmed the House bill to place two million dollars at the President's disposal to commence with more effect a negotiation with France and Spain for the purchase of the Isle of New Orleans and the East and West Floridas.

When the doors were opened again, and we were back in our seats in the President's gallery, we found Mr. Ross already on his feet, continuing his interrupted speech, and evidently the sentences I first heard were in reference to the bill just passed.

"I know," he said, "that some gentlemen think there is a mode of accomplishing our object, of which, by a most extraordinary procedure, I am forbidden to speak on this occasion. I will not, therefore, touch it. But I will ask honorable gentlemen, especially those from the Western country, what they will say, on their return home, to a people pressed by the heavy hand of this calamity, when they inquire: What has been done? What are our hopes? How long will this obstruction continue? You answer: We have provided a remedy, but it is a secret! We are not allowed to speak of it there, much less here. It was only communicated to us confidentially, in whispers, with closed doors. But by and by you will see it operate like enchantment. It is a sovereign balsam which will heal your wounded honor; it is a potent spell, or a kind of patent medicine, which will extinguish and forever put at rest the devouring spirit which has desolated so many nations of Europe. You never can know exactly what it is; nor can we tell you precisely the time it will begin to operate: but operate it certainly will, and effectually, too! You will see strange things by and by; wait patiently, and place full faith in us, for we cannot be mistaken!

"This idle tale may amuse children, but the men of the West will not be satisfied. They will tell you that they expected better things of you, that their confidence has been misplaced, and that they will not wait the operation of your newly invented drug; they will go and redress themselves!"

Then Mr. Ross proceeded to read a series of resolutions he had drawn up, the most important part of them being to authorize the President to take immediate possession of the Isle of New Orleans, and to raise a militia army not exceeding fifty thousand men in the Western States, to cooperate with the army and navy of the Union; and that the sum of five millions of dollars should be appropriated to carry out these resolutions.

They took my breath away. "What would I not give to be back in Kentucky!" I whispered to Mr. Lewis, in irrepressible excitement.

"Calm yourself, my young friend," he whispered back. "War is not declared yet. Listen to this next speech; it is Mr. White from Delaware. See whether he supports or opposes the resolutions."

His opening sentence answered the question:

"As to the closing of the port of New Orleans against our citizens, the man who can now doubt that it was a deliberate act of the Spanish or French government must have locked up his mind against truth and conviction, and be determined to discredit even the evidence of his own senses. But, sir, it is not only the depriving us of our right of deposit by which we have been grieved: it is by a system of measures pursued antecedent and subsequent to that event, equally hostile and even more insulting. I have in my hand a paper signed by a Spanish officer, which, with the indulgence of the chair, I will read to the Senate."

Then he read a paper signed by Carlos de GrandprÉ, warning the subjects of his Majesty of Spain that they were to have no communications with America, and couched in the most insulting terms. My blood boiled as I listened!

"These," said Mr. White, "are the measures that have been adopted by the Spaniard, excluding us from their shores for a distance of two hundred and seventy miles, treating us like a nation of pirates and banditti. Would the great Washington have permitted such an insult had he still been with us? Spain has dared us to the trial, and now bids us defiance. She is yet in possession of that country; it is at this moment within your reach and within your power. It offers a sure and easy conquest. We should have to encounter there only a weak, inactive, and unenterprising people. But how may a few months vary the scene and darken our prospects! Though not officially informed, we know that the Spanish provinces on the Mississippi have been ceded to the French, and that they will, as soon as possible, take possession of them. What may we then expect? When, in the last extremity, we shall be drawn to arms in defense of our indisputable rights, where now slumbers on his post the sluggish Spaniard we shall be hailed by the vigilant and alert French grenadier; and in the defenseless garrison that would now surrender at our approach we shall see unfurled the standards that have waved triumphant in Italy, surrounded by impregnable ramparts and defended by the disciplined veterans of Europe. I am willing to attribute to honorable gentlemen the best of motives; I am sure they do not wish to involve this country in a war—and, God knows, I deprecate its horrors as much as any man. But this business can never be adjusted abroad; it will ultimately have to be settled upon the banks of the Mississippi; the war is inevitable unless honorable gentlemen opposed to us are prepared to yield up the best interest and honor of the nation. I believe the only question now in our power to decide is, whether it shall be the bloodless war of a few months or the carnage of years.

"These observations are urged upon the supposition that it is in the power of the government to restrain the impetuosity of the Western people and to prevent their doing justice to themselves, which, by the by, I beg to be understood as not believing. They know their own strength; they know the feebleness of the enemy; they know the infinite importance of the stake, and they feel—permit me to say, sir, with more than mere sensibility—the insults and injuries they have received. You had as well pretend to dam up the mouth of the Mississippi, and say to its restless waves, 'Ye shall cease here and never mingle with the ocean,' as to expect they will be prevented from descending it.

"Without the free use of the river and the necessary advantage of deposit below our line, their fertile country is not worth possession; their produce must be wasted in the field or rot in the granary. These are rights not only guaranteed to them by treaty, but also given to them by the God of nature, and they will enforce them, with or without the authority of government!"

This long speech (and I have not remembered half of it) was interrupted by frequent bursts of applause, and when Mr. White sat down, it was amid such enthusiasm of cheering as quite carried me off my feet.

"Was there ever such a speech?" I shouted into Mr. Lewis's ear, for the noise was deafening. "That will surely win the day."

"Wait," he shouted back, "until you hear the other side. That is Mr. Jackson of Georgia trying to get the floor, and, if I mistake not, he will be in opposition, and he is a strong speaker, with plenty of caustic wit."

Mr. Jackson began to speak with so slow a drawl and in such low tones that at first I hardly thought him an adversary to be dreaded. But as he warmed to his work I changed my mind.

"What is the course," he began, "which we have to pursue? Is it to go immediately to war without asking for redress? By the law of nations and the doctrines of all writers on such law, you are not justified until you have tried every possible method of obtaining redress in a peaceable manner. It is only in the last extremity, when you have no other expedient left, that a recourse to arms is lawful and just, and I hope the United States will never forfeit their character for justice by any hasty or rash steps which they may, too late, have to repent of.

"Sir, we have been told much, by the gentleman from Delaware, of Bonaparte: that he is the hero of France, the conqueror of Italy, the tyrant of Germany, and that his legions are invincible. We have been told that we must hasten to take possession of New Orleans whilst in the hands of the sluggish Spaniards, and not wait until it is in the iron grip of the CÆsar of modern times. But much as I respect the fame and exploits of that extraordinary man, I believe we should have little more to fear from him, should it be necessary in the end to contend with him for the possession of New Orleans, than from the sluggish Spaniards. Bonaparte, sir, in our Southern country would be lost with all his martial talents. His hollow squares and horse artillery would be of little service to him in the midst of our morasses and woods, where he would meet, not with the champaign country of Italy,—with the little rivulets commanded by his cannon which he could pass at leisure,—not with the fortified cities which command surrounding districts, but with rivers miles wide, and swamps mortal or impenetrable to Europeans. With a body of only ten thousand of our expert riflemen around him, his laurels would be torn from his brow, and he would heartily wish himself once more on the plains of Italy.

"The sacred name of Washington has been unnecessarily appealed to on this as on many other occasions, and we have been boastingly told that in his time no nation dared insult us. Much, sir, as I revere his memory, acknowledging him among the fathers of his country, was this the fact? Was he not insulted?—was not the nation insulted under his administration? How came the posts to be detained after the definitive treaty with Great Britain? What dictated that inhuman deed to stir up horror and destruction among us—Lord Dorchester's insolent and savage speech to the hordes of Indians on our frontiers to massacre our inhabitants without distinction? Were those not insults? Or have we tamely forgotten them? Yet, sir, did Washington go to war? He did not; he preferred negotiation, and sent an envoy to Great Britain. Peace was obtained by a treaty with that nation. Shall we, then, not negotiate? Shall we not follow the leading feature of our nation's policy? We are all actuated, I hope, by one view, but we differ in the means. Let us show the nations of the earth we are not anxious for war, that scourge of mankind; that we bear patiently our injuries, in hope of redress.

"But, sir, if forced to war, contrary to our policy and wish, let us unsheathe the sword and fling away the scabbard until our enemies be brought to a sense of justice and our wrongs be redressed."

Now to every word of this speech I had listened breathlessly. There was a ring in Mr. Jackson's voice as he warmed to his theme, and his long body swayed in the power of his own eloquence, that moved me mightily, though I wished not to be moved.

I scarcely listened to the gentleman that followed (a Mr. Cocke from Tennessee), so intently was I reviewing Mr. Jackson's ringing sentences, and wondering if, after all, he was right, and all the brave Kentuckians who had been so loud in their demands for war were wrong. But one or two sentences of Mr. Cocke caught my ear; I heard him say:

"We were told by Mr. Ross that we were bound to go to war for this right which God and nature had given to the Western people. What are we to understand by this right given by God and nature? Surely not the right of deposit, for that was given by treaty, and as to the right of navigation, that has been neither suspended nor brought into question. But we are told by the same gentleman that the possession of New Orleans is necessary to our complete security. Leaving to the gentleman's own conscience to settle the question as to the morality of taking that place because it would be convenient, I beg to inform him that the possession of it would not give us complete security."

What further Mr. Cocke said I do not know, for at that moment Mr. Lewis whispered to me:

"Do you know the lady in the gallery opposite? She has been for some time covertly regarding one of us, and I think it must be you. Do not look at her just now; look at the right-hand gallery, and then gradually let your glance come around to the lady wearing a black lace veil beside the pillar in the front row opposite."

I did as Mr. Lewis instructed—letting my glance finally fall in the most casual manner where he indicated. But as I did so my heart gave a great bound. Could that be Mademoiselle Pelagie? The pose of the head, the dark eyes seen dimly through the lace veil, the little ringlets in the neck, were hers; but after a moment I convinced myself that it was only a chance resemblance. I had left Mademoiselle Pelagie in Kentucky not three weeks before, with no intention of coming to Washington, but of going direct to New York as soon as suitable escort could be found. It would hardly be within the bounds of possibility that she should be in Washington as soon as I. It was true I had been detained somewhat on the route, once by losing my way, and once by Fatima laming her foot and causing me to spend two days with a Virginia planter while she recovered sufficiently to permit our resuming our journey. But still I could not believe mademoiselle could have accomplished such a journey so quickly, and when I had left her there had been a small prospect of an escort to New York, but none at all to Washington.

So I told Mr. Meriwether Lewis that the lady did indeed remind me of one I knew, but as she was at that moment (I had every reason to believe) safe with Mrs. O'Fallon at Mulberry Hill, it was impossible that it could be she. Then, though much disturbed by this chance resemblance and the thronging memories it awakened, I addressed myself once more to the debate.

I was just in time to see rising to his feet the handsomest man in the Senate, as I had long before decided. Mr. Gouverneur Morris, with his clean-cut, aristocratic features, his carefully curled peruke, his fine lace ruffles falling over his long white hands, and his immaculate stockings and pumps with their glittering buckles, was, to my mind, every inch the gentleman, and quite worthy to have called himself a blue-blooded Philadelphian, but that an unkind fate had given him New York for a birthplace. I was more than curious to know on which side he would be, and his opening sentence filled me with the assurance he was on the right side and every word was weighted. Clear-cut, each sentence dropped from his lips like a string of burnished jewels.

"Had Spain the right to make this cession to France without our consent? Gentlemen have taken it for granted that she had. But I deny the position. No nation has a right to give to another a dangerous neighbor without her consent. He who renders me insecure, he who hazards my peace and exposes me to imminent danger, commits an act of hostility against me and gives me the rights consequent on that act. Suppose Great Britain should give to Algiers one of the Bahamas, and contribute thereby to establish a nest of pirates near your coast. Would you not consider it as an aggression? It is among the first limitations to the exercise of the rights of property that we must so use our own as not to injure another, and it is under the immediate sense of this restriction that nations are bound to act toward each other.

"The possession of Louisiana by the ambitious ruler of France would give him in the New World the preponderance he has already obtained in the Old. It becomes the United States to show that they do not fear him who is the ruler of all; and it specially behooves the young and growing republic to interpose, in order to revive the energy and resistance of the half-conquered nations of Europe, and to save the expiring liberties of mankind!"

No one can imagine the fire, the grace, the inspiring tones and gestures, with which this last sentence was uttered. In my enthusiasm I looked across to my fair neighbor in the opposite gallery for sympathy. Through the veil I thought I caught her eye; but by the slightest turn of her head and an almost imperceptible movement of her hand she conveyed to me (whether intentionally or not, I was not sure) that she was not at all in sympathy with the speaker—indeed, that she disagreed with him wholly.

I looked down again into the arena below me. Slowly rising from his seat was a figure as ungainly as the other had been elegant. Red of face, with features almost coarse, and unwieldy from too great a burden of flesh, I recognized at once Mr. Morris's colleague, the famous Mr. Clinton of New York. What he said pleased me no more than his appearance, yet I could but own that no speaker had spoken with more force, more caustic satire, or more fluent eloquence. I had to admit, also, that there was a flavor of good sense and practicability about much that he said, though I was loath to admit it. He began ponderously, with pompous tones; but as he went on his voice changed until it became at times high and even rasping.

"Sublime, sir, as these speculations may appear to the eyes of some, and high-sounding as they may strike the ears of many, they do not affect me with any force. In the first place, I do not perceive how they bear upon the question before me; it merely refers to the seizure of New Orleans, not to the maintenance of the balance of power. Again, of all characters, I think that of a conquering nation least becomes the American people. What, sir! Shall America go forth, like another Don Quixote, to relieve distressed nations and to rescue from the fangs of tyranny the powerful states of Britain, Spain, Austria, Italy, the Netherlands? Shall she, like another PhaËthon, madly ascend the chariot of Empire, and spread desolation and horror over the world? Shall she attempt to restrain the career of a nation, which my honorable colleague represents to have been irresistible, and which he declares has appalled the British lion and the imperial eagle of the house of Austria? Shall we wantonly court destruction and violate all the maxims of policy which ought to govern infant and free republics? Let us, sir, never carry our arms into the territory of other nations, unless we are compelled to take them up in self-defense. A pacific character is of all others most important for us to maintain. With a sea-coast of two thousand miles, indented with harbors and lined with cities, with an extended commerce, and with a population of only six millions, how are we to set up for the avenger of nations? Can gravity itself refrain itself from laughter at the figure which my honorable colleague would wish us to make on the theater of the world? He would put a fool's cap on our head and dress us up in the parti-colored robes of a harlequin for the nations of the world to laugh at. And after all the puissant knights of the times have been worsted in the tournament by the Orlando Furioso of France, we must then, forsooth, come forward and console them for their defeat by an exhibition of our follies!

"I look, sir, upon all the dangers we heard about the French possession of Louisiana as visionary and idle. Twenty years must roll over our heads before France can establish in that country a population of two hundred thousand souls. What, in the meantime, will become of your Southern and Western States? Are they not advancing to greatness with a giant's stride? The Western States will then contain on their borders millions of free and hardy republicans, able to crush every daring invader of their rights!"

There was a slight stir in the gallery opposite. I looked up to see the figure in black rising from her seat. But even as I looked I thought I caught a direct glance from the dark eyes, and I could almost have sworn there was a slight wave of the hand as if in parting salute to me. Her companion, an older lady, rose with her, and together they turned and left the gallery. Once more I was struck by the startling resemblance to Mademoiselle Pelagie in every movement, and in the outlines of the graceful figure. I heard nothing more Mr. Clinton had to say; I was lost in an abstracted reverie as to the possibility of its being mademoiselle in the flesh. I would have liked to propose to Mr. Lewis that we go out and follow the mysterious figure, but cold reason assured me that mademoiselle was many miles away, and it was but a fond fancy that pictured her image in every dark-eyed maiden, and so shamed me from such a foolish pursuit.

"Shall we go?" said Mr. Lewis. "There will be no vote—probably none for a week at least."

I started from my reverie to find the debate over, the Senate adjourned, floor and gallery rapidly clearing. I answered with alacrity, hoping he had not discovered my abstraction:

"By all means. It has been a grand occasion, and I am much indebted to you, sir, for giving me the opportunity of hearing so great a debate."

Through the long corridors I hurried Mr. Lewis, eagerly scanning the throng for a glimpse of that figure, which I hoped we might overtake; but it had utterly vanished. Outside we found our horses waiting, and together we picked a rough and broken path down Capitol Hill, and then a smoother road where we could put our horses to a canter up the avenue; a gay throng in coaches, in saddle, and on foot accompanying us, and Mr. Meriwether Lewis saluting to right and left as we passed the more leisurely ones, or were passed by those riding or driving in reckless haste. And so on to my inn, where Bandy Jim, still industriously polishing boots on the sidewalk, ducked his white head with a joyous "Howdy, marsa!" and I felt as if an old friend was welcoming me home.