55. CHAPTER LV.
RECEPTION AT THE WHITE HOUSE.
Lights were gleaming in the Capitol, and the greater
portion of the population of the city had left their dwellings
and repaired, at that unseasonable hour, to the Halls
of Legislation. The rotunda, the galleries, the porticos,
and even the grounds surrounding the building, were
crowded with anxious citizens.
When it was ascertained that a quorum had assembled
in each House, the manifestations of joy could not be controlled.
In the Senate, Mr. Langdon was chosen to preside,
and soon after a mighty uproar without announced the
arrival of President Randolph. Deafening huzzas hailed
his approach to the Capitol. He and Blount were met at
the threshold by the President of the Senate and the
Speaker of the House of Representatives, and conducted
into the Great Hall, where they were received by the
members of both Houses, standing.
When the plaudits had subsided, the President addressed
the Senators and Representatives, face to face, as Washington
had done in the beginning. He described the extraordinary
condition of affairs briefly, but comprehensively,
and recommended such measures for their adoption as the
exigencies of the crisis seemed to demand. He then
retired to the Vice-President's room, accompanied by
Blount, where Alice and Edith awaited them.
“Tell me,” said Edith, while Blount grasped her hand
and gazed upon her lovely countenance, “shall we be compelled
to fly from the Capital?”
“It cannot be successfully defended against such an
overwhelming multitude as Ruffleton is leading,” was the
grave reply.
“But when will he be here?”
“It may be a week. It might be longer—but the President
inclines to the policy of non-resistance so far as the
Capital is concerned. If they destroy it, all the patriotism
in the nation will be outraged. If they spare it, we shall
re-posses it when the reflux of the tide wafts us back.”
“And there will be such a tide in our affairs!” said
Alice.
“Certainly,” said the President. “And we shall see such
unanimity in the views and acts of this Congress as was
never witnessed before! The country will be saved!”
“The Republic, father?” asked Alice, in a low tone.
“Unquestionably, my Marble, if it be susceptible of
enduring vitality!”
“And now,” said Blount, “farewell, until we meet
again!”
“Whither do you go?” asked Edith. “You have but
just arrived, and now you announce your departure.”
“There is a quorum without me, and my presence will
be required in the field. The glorious Crook is much better
in a charge than in a retreat. Every retrograde step
is a mortification to him. My resignation as a member of
Congress is in the hands of the Speaker. My father awaits
me in the committee-room. Farewell—brief adieus must
suffice in times like the present.” And he hurried away to
the interview with his father.
The departure of Blount was followed by the entrance
of the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House,
bearing Joint Resolutions, and sundry Bills, already passed
by both Houses of Congress—the rules having been modified
so as to dispense with the usual ceremony and
delay.
Almost dictatorial powers were conferred on President
Randolph: and all his previous acts were sanctioned.
Direct taxes were to be levied for revenue, and appropriations
were made to defray the expenses of the war for two
years, the duration of the term specified for the exercise of
the extraordinary power given the Executive. All citizens
found in arms, and waging war against the United States,
were required to disperse and to return to their homes in
obedience to the command of the Federal Executive, on or
before a day to be specified in a Proclamation, under
penalty of being pronounced traitors, &c. The privilege
of the writ of
Habeas Corpus might be suspended at the
discretion of the President.
War was declared against
Great Britain.
A few nights after the assembling of Congress, the doors
of the White House were thrown open for the reception
of visitors. The President, his Cabinet Ministers, his
daughter Alice, and her friend Edith, were standing in the
room where the visitors were usually received. The porter
then opened the door, and—not twenty persons entered!
Congress had not adjourned. The heads of bureaus, with
a few exceptions, and a vast majority of their subordinates,
had left the city.
“Be not so lugubrious, my Marble,” said Randolph, in
a whisper to his daughter.
“I will not, father!” said she, “I could laugh, gentlemen,”
she continued, addressing several members of the
Cabinet, men distinguished for their learning and administrative
abilities, “you are the more distinguished by the
desertion of others in the hour of peril. The historian will
record the incidents of this hour. The names, the attitudes,
and the very words of those who had the courage and fidelity
to stand by the Chief Magistrate when the enemy was
approaching the Capital, will be recorded, remembered, and
admired!”
“Among the faithless, faithful only these!” said the
President, smiling. “But be of good cheer. We shall see
them back again when I have patronage to bestow. Now,
none so poor to do me reverence! It is well. Why should
they remain here, when I am flying and the enemy advancing?
In truth, my friends, many have left the city not
only by permission of their superiors in office, but in consequence
of my advice. Indeed, indeed, ladies, the man
has as many friends as the office.”
The young ladies laughed outright, for the scene was
ludicrous enough.
“We are not even regaled with music, Mr. President,”
said Edith.
“No. Valiant would not leave me the band! And
Blount, too, deserted me! And Senator Langdon, although
proscribed by Ruffleton, is not here to dignify this mirthful
occasion.”
“But the Senator, you know, is engaged in the performance
of his duty, and, for that matter, the General—”
“Go on. Why do you pause?”
“You said my father had been proscribed!” was the
reply of the maiden, now pale and agitated.
“And for that matter,” continued the President, “I, and
Blount, and all who have been particeps criminis in resistance
to his treasonable usurpation, are in the same category.”
“And you see I am not alarmed, Edith,” said Alice.
“Nor will I be,” said Edith. “The tyrant will meet a
traitor's doom!”
“Bravely spoken,” said the President. “But here comes
more company.”
Congress having adjourned, the White House was soon
thronged with the patriotic Representatives of the States
and the People. They encircled the President, and renewed
their vows to sustain him in his endeavor to preserve the
Republic.
The President thanked them for their promptitude in
enacting the laws he had recommended, and he declared his
purpose to devote his energies to the salvation of his country
and the overthrow of the enemies of the people. He
then led the way towards the East Room, walking between
Alice and Edith, and followed by his Cabinet, and the members.
The folding doors were thrown open, and, to the
astonishment of many, a magnificent banqueting-board
greeted their vision.
The President sat down at one end of the table and Senator
Langdon at the other. The ladies, and there were but
two, Alice and Edith, occupied seats respectively beside
their parents.
“Fall to, gentlemen, and help yourselves,” said Randolph.
“For a sufficient number of waiters could not be
obtained, to use a common phrase, for love or money; and
so, perforce, we must be content with the cooks.”
Randolph was obeyed with alacrity, for many present
had not enjoyed a good dinner for several days, and this was
truly an imperial feast.
And, in process of time, when a clatter of knife-handles
imposed silence, the President rose up with a brimming
glass in his hand, and his example was followed by all the
guests.
“The Union!” said he, “but no cheers, gentlemen.
Let us drink it in silence, if we drink it at all, with the
secret resolve in our hearts too sacred for utterance.” This
was done. But many a tear flowed down the manly cheeks
of the company.
The next toast was offered by Senator Langdon.
“Re-union of the North with the South!” said he.
“And that too, in mute resolve, gentlemen!” It was done.
“Now, Alice!” said Randolph.
“The Daughters of the Republic!” said she; “May
they prove worthy of the patriotic sires who created it.”
“Now, Edith!” said Langdon.
“And worthy the heroes who would preserve it!” was
the response. And then the silence was ruptured. Cheers
and plaudits resounded from the basement to the gables of
the Federal Palace. Randolph rose again, his penetrating
eye fixed on the Senator's Daughter, and proposed “The
Hero Blount!” This was rapturously cheered, mingled
with some merriment, while Edith blushed under the many
glances directed towards her end of the table.
“And the Hero of Bladensburg, the brave Crook!” said
Langdon. And this was responded to as heartily as the
other.
“I propose the Knight of the Velvet Cap!” said the
elder Blount; and then, if she had not been Marble, it was
Alice's turn to blush. But she only turned paler, while
acknowledging the compliment.
Soon after this the company, and particularly the ladies,
were startled by the appearance of Crazy Charlotte at the
door. This poor woman, not yet thirty years of age, was
well known in various sections of the country, for she travelled
much, but always re-appeared at Washington at the
assembling of Congress. She was tall and majestic in stature,
and her pale oval face, retaining traces of former
beauty, and piercing eyes, usually inspired pity rather than
aversion in the beholder. But now her aspect was most
extraordinary. She had been to the theatre and obtained
a tinselled cuirass, and a painted helmet which she wore
with the ease of familiarity, and in her hand she waved a
light spear of tin culled from the same armory.
“Fly! Fly!” said she in a loud but mournful voice.
“Fly to the mountains, or dive under the sea, for the destroyer
cometh. And who is the destroyer? Man! inhuman
man!”
“Sit down, dame Charlotte,” said Randolph, “and feast
with us. It will be time enough to fly after we have eaten.”
“`Two women shall be grinding at the mill—one shall be
taken and the other left.' Nay, ladies,” continued Charlotte,
advancing a step and then pausing, “I do not mean either
of you. You are the daughters of the Republic, and will
never die. But beware—beware of the perils menacing
your great sires! Beware! beware!”
“We will try and guard against them, ourselves, Charlotte,”
said Randolph.
“How! can the eye of the eagle penetrate the earth and
detect the secret mine? Can the breast of the proud lion
be mailed against the venomous fangs of the hidden serpent?
Fly! Fly! I looked, and lo, the flag of my country fell
from the dome of the Capitol. The stars and stripes, the
symbols of glory, have vanished from the breeze, and the
wolves of oppression will lap our blood, and howl in the
sacred precincts of Freedom. Fly! Fly!”
“That will do, Charlotte!” said Randolph. “Come! if
you will not eat with us, let me pour you some wine!”
“Throw it to the earth! pour libations on the ground,
and bow your head at the desecrated Altar of Freedom!
I will neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep, while the Republic
is perishing. Fly! Fly! and return victors—or remain
and die.”
“Our army is between us and the enemy, Charlotte,” said
Alice.
“Alas!” cried the crazy woman, striding forward and
standing at the back of Alice's chair, “we know not who
are our most deadly enemies. We often eat with them and
drink with them. Your great father, it is said, will be the
last to leave the Capital. Hear me!” she continued in a
deep voice, “let him be the first—see that he is surrounded
by a wall of spears! Oh, I would die to save him. The
hopes of his country are centred on his head—”
“That is flattery, dame Charlotte,” said Randolph.
“Flattery! and from a woman. No! No! Flattery
that kills is uttered only by man. Beware of the warning!
Fly!”
“What have you heard, what do you know of danger
menacing my father?” demanded Alice.
“Be not incredulous, daughter of the President!” said
Charlotte, “nor haughty, nor scornful. I go—but will
return to repeat the warning. Once more I will enter the
Presidential mansion before you leave it. Farewell! Farewell!”
And she hurried out as abruptly as she had
entered.
