by Judith Pella
Walking back with Julia, nodding at the appropriate time to the chattered small talk, Carolina began to wonder what it was that motivated her father to find comfort in Scripture and prayer. When I pray, she thought, I’m never quite certain God hears me. I’m only a girl, after all, and no one on earth believes me capable of saying anything worth listening to, so why then should the King of the Universe?
48
Conversation on the Porch
The humid heat of July came upon the land with a vengeance, driving every living soul in search of cooler surroundings. Even Hampton Cabot escaped to the North, as did many families. Others went abroad as Leland and Edith Baldwin did, and only a few remained behind.
Carolina’s family often went north to the New Jersey seaside home of Margaret’s elderly cousin. Even when the management of Oakbridge and the duties of government kept Joseph near home, Margaret usually departed just with the children. This summer, however, they were all forced to struggle through the stifling muggy summer because of the demands of planning James and Virginia’s wedding.
On the afternoon of July third, with anticipation running high and spirits lifted in preparation for the celebration of the Fourth, Carolina joined her father on the veranda. Joseph Adams was stretched out in his chair with his feet on a small ottoman and a straw hat pulled over his face. Carolina smiled at this casual picture of her father. It wasn’t often she was able to catch him loafing. Fanning herself to stir even a slight breeze, Carolina accepted the offer of lemonade from one of the house slaves and took a seat opposite her father.
“Well, well,” Joseph said, pulling down the hat and sitting up straight in the wicker chair. He straightened his waistcoat and suspiciously eyed his outer coat, which had been discarded in the chair to his right.
“Oh, forget it, Father,” Carolina said, knowing that he was considering whether or not to put the coat on. “I’m not Mother and I won’t scold you for sitting here in your shirtsleeves.”
Joseph smiled. “I only did it because your mother is so preoccupied with Virginia and her wedding gown, she has scarcely taken notice of me.”
Carolina nodded with only the slightest hint of a frown. “Yes, they will have to work hard to have everything ready by September.” The twenty-eighth had already been announced to be the date of the wedding, and Carolina had endured two uncomfortable fittings for her bridesmaid gown. Putting aside her conflicting thoughts, which was nearly impossible, Carolina worked the fan back and forth.
“Your mother will no doubt have it all under control. I’ve yet to see her set her mind to a thing and not work it together.”
“To be certain,” Carolina replied. Movement on the horizon caught her attention. “Look, Father, riders.”
Joseph stood for a better look and Carolina joined him. Two riders approached the oak bridge at a slow easy pace that denoted either the age of the travelers or their concern for their mounts in such weather. As they neared the house, Carolina and Joseph gasped in unison to find themselves about to entertain none other than Andrew Jackson himself. York rode at the aging President’s side, clearly concerned for the health of his companion.
This time no protest was made when Joseph quickly reached for his coat. Carolina set down her drink and fan and helped her father adjust his collar. Grabbing up the straw hat, Joseph went out to greet his guests.
Carolina motioned the slave who lingered at the door to the house. “Quick, Missy, run and bring refreshments for our guests. That is the President of the United States with Mr. York.” The girl’s eyes widened in amazement before she hurried off to do as she was told.
“Mr. President,” Joseph said, assisting Jackson from the horse. It was well known that Jackson’s health had failed him, and just as well known that the demise had been helped along by multiple bloodlettings, continual battles with Congress, the banking situation, and the issue of Texas.
“Joseph,” Jackson said, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly.
“Come up out of the sun,” Joseph said, leading the way. “York, good to see you, son. Is all well with you?”
“Very much so, Father.” He tossed his reins to the waiting servant.
Carolina waited on the veranda steps, taking in the scene with some awe. She held her breath in anticipation of the introduction to come. This man, this very powerful man, was the overseer of an entire nation. By his authority treaties were made and broken. Under his direction the future of America could either benefit or be dashed upon the rocks of destruction. And here he was paying a call on her own father—and she supposed on herself as well!
“Mr. President, may I present my daughter, Carolina Adams,” Joseph said as they approached the steps. Carolina curtseyed deeply.
Jackson slowly and arduously mounted the steps and made a gallant bow before her. Taking up her hand, he squeezed it lightly and smiled. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Adams, and if you don’t mind an old codger like me saying so, you are a very beautiful young woman.” He didn’t wait for her to reply but turned instead to York. “She reminds me of my Rachel.”
York nodded. “Yes, indeed.”
“Thank you,” Carolina managed, feeling her face grow flushed. She had seen only one portrait of Rachel Jackson, and it had been painted when she was well into her years, but even Carolina had heard the stories behind the torrid love affair of the President and the unrivaled beauty of his once-divorced wife.
They took their seats, with Jackson sitting between Carolina and Joseph. There was no point made to dismiss Carolina, and so she eagerly took her place as hostess and sent Bartholomew to notify her mother of their visitor. She prayed her mother would linger over Virginia’s gown, even though there was little chance of that, given the importance of the visitor. Carolina longed to listen to the men discuss the politics of the day and contemplate their views on the future.
Accepting a drink, Jackson raised it to Joseph. “To your health and well-being.”
“And to yours,” Joseph and York said in unison.
Carolina said nothing but tilted her glass slightly in acknowledgment and drank. It was just as well no one noticed the gesture. It would be pushing propriety to make too much of a spectacle of herself, and she didn’t want to do anything that might bring about her father’s disapproval and her dismissal.
“Whatever brings you all the way out here in this heat?” Joseph asked.
Jackson chuckled. “The stifling atmosphere in Washington has little to do with the weather. And in my mind it is far worse. What pleasure it is to breathe fresh air for a change and to feel the power of a good horse under my tired old bones. Thank God I only have a few months of my reign—oops, I mean, term—left.”
Everyone joined with Jackson in a laugh over the intentional faux pas. Then Jackson continued, “I refuse to waste away to nothing in the capital. Many may figure, or hope, the old man is headed for pine—” This reference to his own demise caused the President to laugh even harder. “But I won’t give Henry Clay the satisfaction of dying just yet. That is, not unless I can take him with me.”
Joseph smiled. “No doubt Nicholas Biddle and John Calhoun would join Clay in mourning your passing.”
“Certainly!” Jackson exclaimed and added, “They’d all join hands and weep over the dust on my grave for fear of its rising.”
The morbidity of the conversation gave Carolina a chill, even in the midst of the breezeless afternoon heat. She thought of the man in the Baltimore cemetery and of the finality of death. Something in her expression must have noted her discomfort because the President turned to her with an apologetic expression.
“Forgive me for being rude, dear child. My enemies would say my mouth gets the better of me at times. And my friends would have to agree.”
“That’s quite all right.” She smiled and immediately felt at ease.
“Ah, you do so remind me of my Rachel,” he said in a faraway tone, as though forgetting he was not alone. “She had a most gracious smil
e, sweet and gentle, just like yours. No doubt the young men are standing in line to lay claim to your hand.”
“I’m afraid you are mistaken, Mr. President,” she answered with a lighthearted drawl. “My sister Virginia is the beauty of the family. It is she they stand in line for.”
“Fools!” Jackson declared and immediately won Carolina’s devoted friendship. He turned to Joseph but winked back at Carolina. “They’ll come to their senses soon enough, and then I wouldn’t want to be your father for all the bickering and feuding that’ll take place over you.”
“Carolina has always been more given to books and learning,” Joseph said. His admiration shone in his eyes, and Carolina blushed again. “And don’t let her fool you. She’s just as pretty as any of her sisters.”
“She’s the one I told you used to sneak into Father’s study and read the cabinet papers,” York added.
Jackson’s brow raised as if trying to decide whether he was being made the better part of a joke.
York continued, “Carolina loves the intrigue of business and government. Should she have been born a man instead of a woman, she’d no doubt give Henry Clay a run for his money.”
“Probably would have given me one as well,” Jackson replied, slapping his knee and guffawing with such energy that it startled Carolina. “Now, I know you’re just like my Rachel. She was a quiet, considerate soul, God rest her, but she had a fire and a wit that could match mine any day. I admire that greatly in a woman.”
Bartholomew quietly returned and after refreshing the drinks for everyone said, “Master Joseph, suh, Miz Margaret is napping. Do you wants me to wake her?”
The President answered, “Don’t do so on my account. I shan’t be able to stay long. I must attend a reception at the White House tonight.”
“Leave her be, Bartholomew,” said Joseph, then turned to the President. “She is quite exhausting herself with planning our daughter Virginia’s wedding.”
Carolina couldn’t have been more pleased. In this instance she happily took on the role of hostess. She absolutely relished each moment as the President broke into a conversation regarding one subject and then another, his store of amusing anecdotes never seeming to run dry.
“Oh, do tell Carolina of the time you were in Boston with the Vice-President,” Joseph suddenly requested. The story was well known and one of Jackson’s most favorite to relate.
“We were in Boston by express invitation of the legislature,” Jackson began. The old familiar sparkle was in his eye, and his expression was one of pure joy at the memory. “We were to be part of a military review scheduled to take place on the Common. I had been given a fine horse to ride—a real pleasure was that one. But several of my esteemed cabinet members, and of course Mr. Van Buren, were not quite as at ease with their mounts as was I. When we appeared in front of the troops, an artillery salvo was sounded. And as they will do,” he chuckled, already amused by the memory, “the horses reared and became quite agitated. Having little difficulty with my own horse, I shouted to my attendant as to the condition of Mr. Van Buren. ‘Where is the Vice President?’ I asked, and the man lost little time in saying, ‘About as nearly on the fence as a gentleman of his positive political convictions can get.’ ”
Joseph was suppressing a laugh because it was well known that Van Buren chose neither one side nor the other unless pushed to an absolute decision.
“And there was poor Vannie. His steed had brought up, tail first, against the fence and refused to move. I laughed so hard at the sight and exclaimed, ‘And you’ve matched him with a horse even more noncommittal than his rider.’ ”
Carolina smiled, trying to hold to her ladylike composure, but with her father and York and Mr. Jackson all given to fits of amusement over the picturesque story, she too gave in and laughed.
After another round of drinks, the conversation sobered and Joseph asked, “How is it with you and Congress these days?”
“I encouraged Congress to heed Senator Benton’s proposed resolution that public land sales be transacted only with gold and silver as payment,” Jackson told Joseph, “but the greed of land speculation is too powerful an influence.”
“But the westward migration is something you yourself have encouraged,” Joseph responded. Carolina was amazed that her father felt so free to speak his mind to the President.
“True enough and I continue to encourage it. As I told Congress, it cannot be doubted that the speedy settlement of these lands constitutes the true interest of the Republic. The very wealth and strength of a country are its population, and the best part of that population are the cultivators of the soil.”
“I read that speech,” Carolina chimed in without thinking. When all three men turned to stare at her, she quickly lowered her gaze in embarrassment.
“And did you think me accurate in the saying?” Jackson asked her seriously.
Carolina raised a questioning glance at her father.
“By all means answer the man, child,” Joseph said with a smile.
“I found it quite valid,” she replied. “I suppose that is why I am so supportive of the railroad.”
“Ah yes,” Jackson said, nodding his head. “The railroad is another issue that creates a great deal of strife these days. All articles of internal improvement create conflict for my office.”
“Why is that?” she asked, genuinely interested.
Jackson shrugged. “It goes back to my adversary, Mr. Clay, as well as others. There are those who believe the federal government should provide the means for each and every operation of improvement, no matter the size, sensibility, or location. I, on the other hand, believe that internal improvements must be weighed on the basis of the effect they will have for the entire nation and not just an isolated part of it.”
“But a railroad extending west would benefit a great many people. Add to that one extension many additional extensions, and eventually it will benefit the entire nation,” Carolina stated confidently.
“Perhaps, but there is always the possibility that something will happen to meet one person’s interest over that of another. Take, for instance, the problems with the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Your brother advises me that they must survey the land west of Harper’s Ferry and decide the most economical route to develop. The state of Virginia believes that route should make its course through her beloved lands, with provisions that it not interfere with rail lines she desires to develop under her own direction in the future. However, she doesn’t wish to lose the line and revenue in taxes and such that the B&O will pay for crossing her grounds. Pennsylvania would like to see the line move north and include a connecting route to Pittsburgh. Both situations would advance the line and make it possible to bring the railroad that much further west. The further west the railroad goes, the better it is for the advancement of westward expansion and settlements. Still, how can I favor one state over another by providing federal monies?”
“I believe I see the conflict,” Carolina remarked thoughtfully.
“Then, too, Carolina,” York chimed in, “how can you justify the B&O’s line over that of another proposed line. Why, even your proposed line with Father and the Baldwins would have to be considered as a possible recipient of government funds.”
“But our line wouldn’t be designed to benefit all of the nation,” objected Carolina. “Our line is only to benefit a few counties and possibly eventually expand to include several major cities and towns.”
“Ah yes,” York agreed, “but your line plans a direct route into the capital. That could be argued to be of benefit to the entire nation. Added to this, what about canals or federal roadways? There are hundreds of proposals for both, in addition to requests for railroad assistance.”
“York is right,” Jackson said. “I’m afraid these are exactly the kind of arguments I’ve been listening to for the last five years or more. There are many projects, some sound and justifiable, others pompous and without merit. Each state and local government sends their repr
esentatives to pursue my blessing and support. If I were to act as benefactor to all, the government would soon be in deep debt.”
“But I read in the Niles Register that the government is financially in surplus,” Carolina argued. “There has just been voted a Distribution Bill that you recently signed.”
“With misgivings,” Jackson replied, not at all offended by her outspokenness. “The best we can hope for is that by distributing the federal surplus to the states, we can force the deposit banks—those formerly keeping the surplus—to put an end to their business of making unsound loans for overvalued collateral. Having to produce large sums of federal deposits to turn over to the states will make those banks accountable and slow down their enthusiasm for making bad deals.
“The states must see their responsibility, even in this, Miss Adams.” Jackson drew a deep breath and sighed, “But I don’t expect them to. Not with the likes of Henry Clay spouting off his mouth at every turn. Rigging deals between northern industries and western settlers.”
“Isn’t that to the benefit of the entire nation?” Carolina questioned. She’d long desired to better understand Henry Clay’s American System.
“Not unless you remove the South from the nation, which would suit John Calhoun just fine. I’ve fought South Carolina once already over the issue of seceding and I have no desire to do it again. Mr. Clay has no provision for the South and its improvement. He foresees great expansion west, but this leaves little attention to the South, of which you are considered a part by virtue of your residence here in the great state of Virginia.”
“Mr. President,” York interrupted, “I must advise you of the time.”
Only then did Carolina realize over an hour had passed.
Jackson nodded and it appeared to Carolina that a sadness crossed his expression. “Alas, my escape must be retraced?”