CHAPTER XXVIII
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT
As she entered the room, there rose to meet her a tall gentleman,who stood gravely regarding her. At sight of him she paused,embarrassed. No figure was more familiar in Washington, yet nonewas less to be expected here. There was no mistaking the largeframe, the high brow, the dark and piercing eye, the costume--thatof another day. Involuntarily, although her first impression(based upon other meetings with distinguished men) was one more ofapprehension than of pleasure, she swept him a deep curtsy. Withthe grace of a courtier he extended a hand and led her to a chair.
"You know me, Madam?" he demanded, in a deep and bell-like voice."I know you, as well. I am delighted, I am honored, to announcethat I come to you as a messenger."
"It is an honor that you come in any capacity, Sir. To what may Iattribute so kind a visit, to one so unimportant?"
"No, no, my dear Countess. We rate you very high. It is the wishof a certain gentleman to have you attend a little meeting whichwill not welcome many out of all this city. It is informal andunofficial, my dear lady, but all those who will be there will beglad to have your attendance. It was thought well for me to dropin to interrogate your pleasure in the matter."
"It is a command, Sir! Very well, at what time, then?"
"If it should please you, it would delight me to accompany you atonce, my dear lady! My carriage is waiting now."
Josephine St. Auban did not lack decision upon her own part.Something told her that no danger this time lurked for her.
"Pardon me for just one moment then, Sir," she answered. A fewmoments later she returned, better prepared for the occasion withjust a touch to her toilet; and with a paper or two which with someinstinct she hastily snatched up from her desk. These latter shehurriedly crowded into her little reticule. They took the carriageand soon were passing through the streets toward the most publicportion of the city of Washington.
They entered wide grounds, and drew up before a stately buildingwhich lay well back from the street. Entering, they passed througha narrow hall, thence into a greater room, fitted with wide panelsdecorated with many portraits of men great in the history of thiscountry. There was a long table in this room, and about it--someof them not wholly visible in the rather dim light--there wereseveral gentlemen. As her tall escort entered with a word ofannouncement, all of these rose, grave and silent, and courteouslybowed to her. There approached from the head of the room a tall,handsome and urbane gentleman, who came and took her hand. He,some of these others, she could not fail to know. She had comehither without query or comment, and she stood silent and waitingnow, but her heart was racing, her color faintly rising in spite ofall her efforts to be calm.
They entered wide grounds.]
"My dear lady," he began, in a voice whose low, modulated tonesscarce could fail to please any ear, "I thank you for your presencehere. Will you not be seated? It is a very great honor that yougive us, and all of these gentlemen appreciate it."
Josephine St. Auban curtsied and, remaining silent and wondering,assumed the seat assigned her, at the right hand of the tall andgrave gentleman who had escorted her hither, and who nowcourteously handed her to her place.
"We meet absolutely without formality, my dear Madam," went on thetall and kindly man who had greeted her. "What goes on here isentirely unofficial and, as I need not say, it is altogetherprivate; as you will remember."
"You will perhaps pardon my diffidence at such a time and place,Sir," she began, at last. "It is difficult for me to understandwhat small merit, or large error, of mine should bring me here."
"Madam, we wish that your abilities were smaller," smiled the tallgentleman. "That is the very thing of which we wish to speak. It isyour activities which have seemed to us matters of concern--indeed,of kindly inquiry, if you do not mind. These gentlemen, I think, Ido not need to introduce. We are all of us interested in the peaceand dignity of this country."
"Have I done anything against either?" asked she.
"Ah, you have courage to be direct! In answer, I must say that wewould like to ask regarding a few things which seem to be withinyour own knowledge. You, of course, are not unaware of the populardiscontent which exists on this or the other side of the greatpolitical question in America to-day. We are advised that youyourself have been a traveler in our western districts; and itseemed to us likely that you might be possessed of informationregarding matters there of which we get only more interested, morepurely partisan, reports."
"That is not impossible," was her guarded reply. "It is true, Ihave talked with some in that part of the country."
"You were witness of the anxiety of our attempt to keep war and thetalk of it far in the background,--our desire to preserve thepresent state of peace."
"Assuredly. But, Sirs, you will forgive me,--I do not believepeace will last. I thought so, until this very day. In my belief,now, there will be war. It can not be averted."
"We are glad to hear the belief of all, on all sides," was thecourteous rejoinder. "We ourselves hope the compromise to be morenearly final. Perhaps you as well as others hold to the so-calleddoctrine of the 'higher law'? Perhaps you found your politics inRousseau's _Nouvelle Heloise_, rather than in the more sober wordsof our own Constitution?" His eyes were quizzical, yet not unkind.
"Certain doctrines seem to endure," was her stout answer, kindling."I am but a woman, yet I take it that anything that I can say willhave no value unless it shall be sincere. To me, this calm issomething which can not endure."
"There at least do not lack others who are of that belief. Butwhy?"
"They told me in the West that the South has over three millionslaves. They told me that the labor of more than seven millionpersons, black and white, is controlled by less than a third of amillion men; and of all that third of a million, less than eightthousand practically represent the owners of these blacks, who donot vote. Gentlemen, I have been interested in the cause ofdemocracy in Europe--I do not deny it--yet it seems to me anoligarchy and not a democracy which exists in the American South.The conflict between an oligarchy and a natural democracy is agesold. It does not die. It seems to me that there is the end of allcompromise--in the renewed struggle of men, all over the world, toset up an actual government of their own,--not an oligarchy, not amonarchy, not of property and wealth, but of actual democracy. Itmust come, here, some day."
"It is unusual, my dear lady, to find one of your sex disposed tophilosophy so deep and clear as your own. You please us. Will yougo on?"
"Sir, your courtesy gives me additional courage,". was her answer."You have asked me for my beliefs--and I do not deny that I havesome of my own, some I have sought to put in practice. To me,another phase of this question lies in something which the Southitself seems not to have remembered. The South figures that thecost of a laboring man, a slave, is perhaps a thousand or fifteenhundred dollars. The South pays the cost of rearing that man. Anynation pays the cost of bringing up a human being. Yet, withinthis very year, Europe has sent into the North and into the West athird of a million of men _already_ reared, already _paid_ for.Sir, you ask me what will be the result of this discontent, theresult of this compromise. It seems to me plainly written in thosetwo facts--industrial, not political facts. The 'finality' of thiscompromise, its final issue, will be established by conditions withwhich laws or their enforcement have little to do. Yet statesmentry to solve such a question by politics. I myself at one timethought it could endure--but only if all the blacks were bought,paid for and deported, to make room for those who come at no costto us. I thought for a time it could be done. I have tried to doit. I have failed. I do not think others will follow in myattempt."
"We have not undervalued, Madam, either the brilliance or theprofundity of your own active intellect! What you say is ofinterest. We already have followed with profound interest yourefforts. Your words here justify our concern in meeting you. Thisis perhaps the first time in our history
when a woman has beenasked to meet those most concerned in even so informal anassemblage as this, at precisely this place."
There were gravity and dignity in his words. The majesty of agovernment, the dignity of even the simplest and most democraticform of government, the unified needs, the concentrated wish ofmany millions expressed in the persons of a few,--these are thethings which can not fail to impress even the most ignorant andinsensitive as deeply as the most extravagant pageantry of theproudest monarchy. They did not fail to impress Josephine St.Auban, brilliant and audacious thinker though she was, and used tothe pomp of Old World courts. At once she felt almost a sense offright, of terror. The silence of these other gentlemen, so ableto hold their peace, came to her mind with the impress of somemighty power. She half shrank back into her chair.
"Madam, you have no need of fear," broke in the deep voice of thegentleman who had escorted her thither, and who now observed herperturbation. "We shall not harm you--I think not even criticizeyou seriously. Our wish is wholly for your own good."
"Assuredly," resumed the first speaker. "That is the wish of allmy friends here. But let us come now to the point. Madam, to befrank with you, you have, as we just have said, been much concernedof late with attempts at the colonization and deportation ofnegroes from this country. You at least have not hesitated toundertake a work which has daunted the imagination of our ablestminds. Precisely such was once my own plan. My counselorsdissuaded me. I lacked your courage."
"There seemed no other way," she broke in hurriedly, herconvictions conquering her timidity. "I wanted so much to dosomething--not alone for these blacks--but something for the goodof America, the good of the world. And I failed, to-day."
"The work of the Colonization Society has gone on for many years,"gently insisted the first speaker, raising a hand, "and made it noserious complications. Your own work has been much bolder, and, tobe frank, there _have_ been complications. Oh, we do not criticizeyou. On the contrary, we have asked your presence here that wemight understandingly converse on these things to which you havegiven so much attention."
"If I have erred," she ventured, "it has been done within thelimitations of human wisdom; yet my convictions were absolutelysincere--at least I may assure you of so much. I have not wishedto break any law, to violate convictions on either side. I onlywanted to do some good in the world."
"We are quite sure, my dear lady, that the sentiments of your mindare precisely those of our own. But perhaps you may be less awarethan ourselves of complications which may rise. Our friend whosits by you has found occasion to write again in unmeasured termsto the representatives of Austria. We are advised of youraffiliations with the Hungarian movement--in short, we are perhapsbetter advised of your movements than you yourself are aware. Weknow of these blacks which have been purchased and deported by youragents, but we also know that large numbers of slaves have beenenticed away from their owners, that whole plantations have beenrobbed of their labor, and this under the protection--indeed, underthe very _name_--of this attempt which you have set on foot. Hasthis been done by your knowledge, Madam? I anticipate your answer.I am sure that it has not."
"No! No!" she rejoined. "Assuredly, no! That is a matter entirelywithout my knowledge. You shock me unspeakably by this news. Ihave not heard of it. I should be loath to believe it! I havespent my own funds in this matter, and I have told my own agents todo nothing in the slightest contravention of the laws."
"None the less, these things have been done, my dear lady. Theyhave awakened the greatest feeling in the South--a feeling ofanimosity which extends even to the free colonies of blacks whichhave been established. The relations between the two greatsections of this country are already strained sufficiently. Wedeprecate, indeed we fear, anything which may cause a conflict, anoutbreak of sectional feeling."
"Gentlemen, you must believe me," she replied, firmly and withdignity, "I have been as ignorant as I am innocent of any suchdeeds on the part of my agents. While I do not agree that anyhuman being can be the property of another, I will waive thatpoint; and I have given no aid to any undertaking whichcontemplated taking from any man what he _himself_ considered to behis property, and what the laws of the land accorded him as hisproperty. My undertaking was simply intended as a solution of_all_ those difficulties--for both sides, and justly--"
"Madam, I rejoice to hear those words,--rejoice beyond measure!They accord entirely with the opinion we have formed of you."
"Then you have watched me!--I have been--"
"This is a simple and democratic country, Madam," was the quietanswer, although perhaps there might have been the trace of a smileon the close-set mouth of the speaker. "We do not spy on any one.Your acts have been quite within public knowledge. You yourselfhave not sought to leave them secret. Should these facts surpriseyou?"
"They almost terrify me. What have I done!"
"There is no need of apprehension on your part. Let us assure youof that at once. We are glad that you, whom we recognize as themoving spirit in this deportation enterprise, have not sanctionedcertain of the acts of your agents. There was one--a former armyofficer--with whom there labored a revolutionist, a German,recently from Europe. Is it not so?"
"It is true," she assented. "They were my chief agents. But asfor that officer, this country has none more eager to offer hissword to the flag when the time shall come. I am sure it is buthis zeal which has caused offense. I would plead for hisreinstatement. He may have been indiscreet."
"We shall listen to what you say. But in addition to these, therewas a former slave girl, who has been somewhat prominent inmeetings which these two have carried on in different parts of thecountry. In the words of the southern press, this girl has beenused as a decoy."
"Lily!" exclaimed Josephine. "It must have been she! Yes, I hadsuch a person in my employ--in very humble capacity. But, Sir, Iassure you I have not seen her for more than two months. I hadsupposed her busy with these others on the lecture platform."
"She is not now so engaged," interrupted a voice from the shadowson the other side of the table.
"Then she has been arrested?" demanded Josephine.
"That is not the term; yet it is true that she sailed on one ofyour own colonization ships last week. Her fortune will lieelsewhere hereafter. It was her own wish."
A sudden sense of helplessness smote upon Josephine St. Auban.Here, even in this republic, were great and silent powers withwhich the individual needed to contend. Absorbed for the time inthat which was nearest her heart, she had forgotten her ownfortunes. Now she suddenly half rose for the first time.
"But, gentlemen," said she, as she held out in her hand some paperswhich crackled in her trembling grasp,--"after all, we are at crosspurposes. This is not necessary. My own work is at an end,already! This very morning it came to an end, and for ever. Willyou not look at these?"
"My own work is at an end."]
"How do you mean, Madam?" The tall grave man near by turned uponher his beetling brows, his piercing dark eyes. "Your work wasworthy of approval in many ways. What has happened that it shouldcease?"
"This!" she said, handing to him the papers which she held. "Ihave a report to-day from my agents in Europe. Gentlemen, since Imust mention these things,--I have been possessor of a fortune inmy own name which might have been called considerable. I hadestates in France and in Austria. This advises me that my estateshave been confiscated by the governments in both countries--theygot word there, in some way--"
"It was Hulsemann!" ejaculated the dark man, as to himself."Austria's man here!"
She went on: "If I am not welcome in this country, whither shall Igo? I am an exile as I stand before you. I am a widow. I have noliving kin. Moreover, I am an exile, impoverished, as I stand. Myfortune has been dissipated--honestly so, gentlemen; but since itis gone, my powers are at an end. If I have displeased you, Ishall do so no longer. Here are my proofs."
She placed her pap
ers in the hand of her escort, the nearest ofthese grave and silent men. A nod from the leader at the head ofthe table caused this tall and dark gentleman to rise and seek aplace closer to the window in order that he might find better lightfor reading. His glasses upon his nose, he scanned the papersgravely. A sudden smile broke out upon his face, so that he passeda hand across his face to force it back into its usual lines ofgravity.
"Gentlemen," said he, at length, solemnly, "this lady has been kindto come to meet us, and you all are witness that her dealings havebeen perfectly frank and sincere. I confess, however, I amsomewhat puzzled over this document which she has given me. Ipresume we may well mark it 'Exhibit A.' If you do not mind, Iwill read it to you."
Slowly, deliberately, employing all the tones of his deep andsonorous voice, which before then had thrilled audiences ofthousands in every portion of his country, he read; his facestudiously turned away that he might not see the dismayed gesturesof the woman who had handed him these papers:
"MY DEAR MADAME:
"I take in hand my pen to tell you how life goes with us in this locality. The business of Hector is improved one half this year. We have green blinds on all sides of the house, and a vine that grows also. The mother of Hector is kind to me. We have abundance and peace at this place. But, Madame, that which it is which I write you, there is come but now the baby of Hector and myself Jeanne. In all this locality there is no baby like this. Madame, we have said to name it for yourself, Josephine St. Auban Jeanne Marie Fournier. Moreover, Madame, it is advise that for a baby so remarkable a godmother is necessary. I take my pen in hand to inquire of madame whether in the kindness of her heart madame could come to see us and be present at this christening of this child most extraordinary. I have the assurance also of Hector that the remarkable qualities of this baby will warrant the presence of madame. A reply _poste restante_, address on St. Genevieve in Missouri, will arrive to your faithful and obedient servant,
"JEANNE."
Before this singular document had been half concluded there weresounds of shifting chairs, bursts of stifled laughter. The tallgrave man nevertheless went on, solemnly finishing thiscommunication. As for Josephine, she had shrunk back in her chair,knowing not which way to turn.
"Sirs," concluded the gentleman who now occupied the floor, "whileI do not find full confirmation herein of all the statements thislady has made to us, I do discover this document to be not withoutinterest. At its close, I find in a different handwriting--Madam,may I guess it to be your own?--the addendum--let me see,--Ah, yes,it says merely two words: '_The darling_!'"
He approached, and laid just the lightest, gentlest hand upon theshoulder of the disturbed woman, who sat speechless, her facesuffused. "Your documents are regular, Madam," he said kindly."As for this other, which perhaps was the one you intended me toread, that is private matter. It is not necessary even for myselfto read it. There will be no further exhibits in this case. I amsure that I voice the feeling of every gentleman present herehowever, Madam, if I say that although we have not curiosity as tothe terms of this communication, we have deep regret over itsadvices to you. If your fortunes have been ruined, they have beenruined in a cause in which a kind heart and an active brain weredeeply enlisted. You have our regrets."
"Sir!" He turned now toward the tall gentleman who sat silent atthe head of the table. "I am sure there is no further need forthis lady's attendance here. For my own part, I thank her. Shehas offered us no remedy, I fear. In turn, there seems none we canextend to her."
"Wait a moment!" interrupted a voice from the opposite side of thetable.
The leader shifted in his seat as he turned toward Josephine St.Auban. "This is the gentleman from Kentucky," he said. "Weusually find his words of interest. Tarry, then, for just a momentlonger."
A tall figure was visible in the half light, as the clear voice ofthe gentleman so described went on.
"Sir, and gentlemen, there is no Kentuckian,--no, nor any man fromany other state here present--who could suffer this matter toconclude just as it is now. This is not all. This matter butbegins. We have invited to attend us a lady whose activities weconsidered dangerous,--that is the plain truth of it, and we allknow it, and she may know it. Instead of that, we find here withus now a woman in distress. Which of us would have the courage toendure with equal equanimity that which she faces now? It hasalready been said here that we have been not unmindful of the plansof this lady, not wholly unacquainted with her history. We knowthat although a revolutionist at heart, an alien on our shores, herpurposes have been clean, have been noble. Would to God we hadmore such in our own country! But now, in a plan which has provedwholly futile before her time, which would prove futile after it,even though backed by the wealth of a nation,--she has failed, notto our ruin, but to her own.
"It is not without my knowledge that this lady at one time,according to popular report, was asked to undertake a journey whichlater resulted, in considerable personal inconvenience, not to sayindignity, to herself. Is there no way, gentlemen, in which,especially in consideration of her present material circumstances,this government--I mean to say this country--can make some amendsfor that?"
"Madam," began the leader at the head of the table, "I did notpredict wrongly regarding our friend from Kentucky; but in reply tohim, I myself must say, as I have already said, we are but a simplerepublic,--all our acts must be open and known. What special fund,my dear sir,"--this to the speaker, who still retained hisposition,--"in what manner, indeed, could this be arranged?"
"In the easiest way in the world," rejoined the Kentuckian. "Thislady, whatever be her nationality, is at heart much identified withthe cause of Hungary, which she has been so good as to confuse withour own cause here in America. Her idea is to advance democracy--andto advance pure nationalism. Very well. We have already invitedLouis Kossuth to come to America as the guest of this country. Evennow one of the vessels of our navy is approaching his port of exilein Turkey to carry him hither. In the entertainment of Louis Kossuthlarge sums of money will be--and it is proper that they shouldbe--expended. The people demand it. The dignity of this nation mustbe maintained. Popular approval will meet the proper expendituresfor any such entertainment.
"Now then, gentlemen,"--and he raised an argumentativeforefinger,--"there must be committees of entertainment; there mustbe those able to interpret, those competent to arrange large plans,and to do so courteously, with dignity." He bowed toward thesomewhat dejected figure of the only woman present, who scarceventured to raise her eyes to his, startled as she was by thesudden turn of events,
"Now, Sir, we all understand this is wholly unofficial andinformal; we understand that there is no special fund which couldbe devoted to any such purpose as I have suggested--unless it wereprecisely this fund for the Kossuth entertainment! Gentlemen, itis not the part of a host to set a limit upon the visit of a guest.It is my belief that Kossuth will remain on these shores for atleast _ten years_, and that he will need entertainment for each ofthose ten years at least!" A gentle applause met this speech. Thespeaker himself smiled as he went on.
"For a competent committee head, charged with the duty of makingthat entertainment gracious and dignified and worthy alike of theOld World and the New, I should think that an annual expenditureof, say, eight thousand or ten thousand dollars, would not beinadequate! If this lady, whose kind heart and brilliant mind, asour honored friend has said, both have been shown before usto-day,--if she would agree,--if she would _accept_,--some suchprovision as this from this fund, I am entirely clear in my ownmind as to both the wisdom and the absolute propriety of extendingthis offer to her!"
He sat down. Laughter and applause met his remarks. Thus, andgallantly, did Kentucky make amends.
"Madam," at length interrogated the tall man at the head of thetable, bending upon her his gaze, as did all these other gravefigures present,--"provided this matter might be arranged, would itbe within your plea
sure to accept some such remuneration as that,for services which should be given quite within your wishes? Ineed not say," he added, turning his gaze along each side of thelong table, "that this is something which, _in view of allcircumstances_, to me also seems quite within dignity, decency andabsolute public propriety."
But Josephine St. Auban could make no reply. Her face was hiddenin her hands, and only her heaving shoulders showed the suddenemotion which had swept upon her overstrained soul. At last shefelt a gentle hand touch hers. She raised her head as, one afteranother, these men approached, each extending his hand to her andbowing in salutation. Presently the room was deserted.
In the hall the gentleman from Kentucky passed his arm within thatof a tall man, obviously from the North.
"I have just got word within the week of the arrival of a daughterat my own home out in Kentucky," said he. "I am in a position tounderstand all and several the statements in Exhibit A, my dearSir! 'The darling!'
"But what a woman,--what a woman!" he went on meditatively. "Sir,if I were a single man, as I am a married man, I should offer toher, upon the spot, a union, now and for ever, one and inseparable!"