Douglas Amanda M.
A Little Girl in Old Washington

CHAPTER XVI.
IN OLD WASHINGTON

There were many arrangements to make. Only Mr. and Mrs. Mason knew how really serious the case might be, and Mrs. Mason felt that she could not accept the responsibility alone. Dixon, the overseer, was a good manager and a trusty man, and his wife a very efficient woman. Indeed, the older house slaves could have run the place without supervision, but it was well to have a responsible head. Louis would come down now and then and inspect the financial affairs, and bring Jaqueline occasionally. It would not be quite like going to London, and Mr. Mason might return if really needed.

So they packed up and put things in order, and went up to Washington to settle Annis. Charles seemed really stronger, but the doctor knew it was only excitement. Patty's house was so pretty and the office so handy, the boy did not see why he could not remain with her.

The house was quite fine for the times. Land was abundant, and houses did not have to crowd. There were spacious rooms, for people were hospitably inclined. Southern women made charming hostesses. In an ell part the doctor had an office, for he was quite ambitious in his profession, if he had one eye on the advancement of the City. He had rented one of his houses, and another was likely to be sold.

There were people who shook their heads dubiously and feared an invasion; others reasoned there was so little prospect of booty in Washington compared to the commercial cities, there could be no possible danger.

Jaqueline had a pretty corner room. Opening into it was a smaller one devoted to Annis, with its dainty bed curtained with white muslin and fringe that nodded in the slightest breeze. The floor was painted, and a rug made by the slaves at home lay at the bedside. Grandmother had sent Patty the mahogany furnishing of one room that she had brought from the Mason house when she was married, and it was quite an heirloom. This was in Jaqueline's room.

The baby went far toward reconciling Annis. A pretty, plump little thing, with great dark eyes and a fringe of dark hair over a white forehead, she looked like a picture. Judy, one of the slaves from home, was her nurse.

Yet the parting was very hard for Annis. The doctor had taken Charles in his own carriage. They were to go to Baltimore and rest a day or two and visit some of the connections.

Annis felt at first as if she must be visiting.

"And do you remember we came up to Mr. Madison's inauguration and went to the Capitol? It seems as if it must have been years and years ago, so many things have happened since then. And everybody seems grown up except Charles and I."

"You were a tiny little girl then. I hope you will not be very homesick; there are so many things to see. And when the horses are sent up we can take beautiful rides."

Annis swallowed over a lump in her throat.

"The baby will grow and be very cunning. And every week you are to write to mamma."

"And to Charles. I am not to mind not getting answers from him; it makes his head ache to write."

"And, then, there are the children at Aunt Jane's. Her baby talks everything in the funniest crooked fashion. To-morrow we will call on Madame Badeau. I hope you will like school. It is only in the morning."

"I am fond of learning things if they are not too hard."

"Some of us have to learn quite hard lessons," and Jaqueline sighed.

Madame Badeau lived in a rather shabby-looking rough stone house, quite small in the front, but plenty large enough for her and a serving-man and maid, and running back to a pretty garden, where she cultivated all manner of beautiful flowers, and such roses that lovers of them were always begging a slip or piece of root. There was a parlor in the front filled with the relics of better days, and draped with faded Oriental fabrics that were the envy of some richer people. There was always a curiously fragrant perfume in it. Next was the schoolroom, entered by a side door, where there were small tables in lieu of desks, wooden chairs, and a painted floor that the maid mopped up freshly every afternoon when the children were gone. Back of this were the living room and a very tiny kitchen, while upstairs were two rooms under the peaked roof, where Madame and Bathsheba slept.

Madame was small, with a fair skin full of fine wrinkles. She wore a row of curls across her forehead, a loosely wound, soft white turban that gave her a curious dignity, and very high heels that made a little click as she went around. She was quite delicate, and had exquisite hands, and wore several curious rings. Her voice was so finely modulated that it was like a strain of music, and she still used a good many French words. She had been at the French court and seen the great Franklin and many other notables, and had to fly in the Reign of Terror, with the loss of friends and most of her fortune.

Bathsheba, the maid, was nearly six feet tall, and proud of some Indian blood that gave her straight hair and an almost Grecian nose. She was proud of her mistress too, and was in herself a bodyguard when Madame went out. The old man who kept the garden clean and did outside work was a slave too old for severe labor, and was hired out for a trifle. At night he went home to sleep at the cabin of a grandchild.

Annis was attracted at once by the soft voice that ended a sentence with a sort of caressing cadence. And when Jaqueline wrote her name in full Madame said:

"Bouvier. That is French. Your mamma's maiden name, perhaps?"

"No," returned Annis, with a little color. "It was my own papa, who is dead. And he could read and talk French. I knew a little, but I was so young when he died."

"And our father married Mrs. Bouvier some years ago," said Jaqueline, "so Annis and five of us Mason children constitute the family. Mrs. Bouvier was cousin to our own mother."

"I shall take great pleasure in teaching you French. Poor France has had much to suffer. And now that detestable Corsican is on the throne, with no drop of royal blood in his veins! but you can tell what he thinks of it when he divorces a good and honorable woman that his son may inherit his rank. But my nation did not take kindly to a republic. They are not like you," shaking her turbaned head.

The distance to school was not great, so in fair weather it was a nice walk. Now the place is all squares and circles and rows of beautiful houses, but then people almost wondered at the venturesomeness of Dr. Collaston and Mr. Jettson building houses in country ways; for although streets were laid out and named, there was little paving. The Mason tract was on Virginia Avenue, but the others had gone back of the Executive Mansion, on high ground, and had a fine view of the whole country; and Georgetown being already attractive, it seemed possible the space between would soon be in great demand.

Out beyond them were some fine old mansions belonging to the time of plantations and country settlements. The very last of the preceding century the Convent of the Visitation had been erected, for so many of the Maryland gentry were Roman Catholics. There was a school for girls here, mostly boarding scholars.

Then Rock Creek stretched way up on the heights, threading its path in and out of plantations where fields were dotted with slaves at their work, often singing songs with the soft monotonous refrain that suggested the rhythm of the distant ocean. Occasionally you met a silvery lake that bosomed waving shadows; then stretches of gigantic oaks, somber pines, and hemlocks; and now and then a little nest of Indian wigwams whose inhabitants preferred quasi-civilization.

To the southeast, on the Anacostia River, was the navy yard, active enough now. And there was Duddington Manor, with its high wall and stately trees overtopping it, built by Charles Carroll, to be for a long while a famous landmark in solitary grandeur. But the Van Ness mansion, nearer the Potomac, was always alight, and often strains of music floated out on the night air to the enjoyment of the passer-by.

Annis had been living in a kind of old world, peopled with the heroes of Homer, the knights of Arthur, and the pilgrims of Chaucer, as well as Spenser's "Faërie Queene." She had a confused idea that Pope's garden was in some of these enchanted countries, and that Ben Jonson and Shakspere were among the pilgrims who sang songs and told tales as they traveled on, or stopped at the roadside and acted a play. Charles had learned where to place his heroes and who of them all were real.

Annis left the realm of imagination and fancy and came down to actual study. At first she did not like it.

"But you must know something about modern events," declared Jaqueline, "to read well and write a nice letter; and to understand the history of our own country, which is all real. And to keep accounts – every housekeeper ought to be able to do that. Grandmamma had to look after the big plantation until papa came of age; and women have to do a good many different things."

"I think I shall like learning them, or most of them," and Annis' eyes shone.

"There is dancing, too; you must go in a class next winter. You can embroider nicely, so you needn't bother about that. And I have been in a painting class where there were some quite small girls. Some ladies paint fans and flower pieces beautifully. And Patty thinks she will have a pianoforte, which would be delightful. Singing classes are in vogue, too."

"Oh, dear, can one learn so much?" and the child looked perplexed.

"You do not have to learn it all at once," returned the elder with a smile.

Very few people had any thought of vacations then. True, Washington had a dull spell when Congress was not in session, and some of the people retired to country places or went to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, or to Bladensburg to drink medicated waters. But Madame Badeau kept her school going from eight to twelve for the children's classes. They were all composed of girls, for while Madame admired well-bred young men very much, she could not tolerate growing boys. The afternoons were devoted to what were called fancy branches. Young women came to learn embroidery and lace-making, the duties on foreign goods were so high, and now the risk of importing was so great.

There began to be a different feeling about education. Intelligent women were coming to the fore. To be sure, science was considered unwomanly, but handsome and well-bred Mrs. Gallatin knew enough on many subjects to entertain her husband's guests charmingly. Everybody would have been horrified at the thought of a woman's college, and if a woman's convention had been announced it would have created more indignation than the war was raising.

Yet women with but few early advantages went to Madame Badeau to be trained in conversation and the art of writing polite notes, and some who had a facility for verse-making to learn how an acrostic was put together, or an anagram, and the proper fashion for congratulatory verses. A few women poets had appeared, but the French "blue stockings" were quoted in derision. Still, it had occurred to other women beside Mrs. Adams that the mothers of sons trained for perilous times needed to be intelligent, at least.

For the first time Annis was thrown with a variety of girls near her own age. None of them were like Varina – but, then, they were not like each other. How strange there should be so many different kinds of people in the world! It amazed her.

Jaqueline was much interested in her unfolding. There was a delicious quaintness about her that contact with Madame Badeau brought out. She had some very clear ideas too, and there was so much to write about.

"I shall have to send a letter to mamma one week and to Charles the next," she said sagely. "Then I shall not tell the same things over."

"That is an excellent idea. You are a bright little girl," returned Jaqueline with a smile.

"And it will save my own time. Jaqueline, can't we go to Washington some time and really see it? One of the girls called me a country lass because I did not know about the streets and the way everything ran. And how queer they should be named after the letters and numbers! What will they do when the letters are exhausted? – and there are but twenty-six."

"There are the numbers, you know."

"But the numbers run criss-cross. Do you suppose they will go on as we work a sampler, make little letters and then Old-English text? One girl has the most beautiful Old-English alphabet worked in red silk, but it is very hard to tell the letters."

Jaqueline laughed. "No! I think they will take names then."

"They make up parties and go to Analostan Island. And, do you know, there are beautiful falls up the Potomac, ever so far!"

"Yes; they are beautiful, indeed; and we will get the doctor to take us up some time."

"Everything is so" – glancing around for a word – "so interesting. And there are so many people. I like it very much. Only if we could have mamma and Charles and papa! Then, it would be mean to crowd out Varina."

"We'll have the whole household at Christmas."

Louis was very much interested in the surprise and pleasure over everything, and he found Annis quite a delightful companion for walks. She was so eager to hear about the founding of the City.

"It has only come of age," said Louis. "For the cornerstone was laid in 1793."

"And there are cities in Europe over a thousand years old! Oh, what an old world it must be!"

"But we are a new country altogether. Then, we have much older cities."

"After all," she said reflectively, "the ground was here. And some of the houses and the people."

They were still working on the Capitol. Stonecutters and marble-dressers in their little sheds were a common sight.

A great many people went to Christ Church, which had been erected soon after the laying out of the City. Then there was old St. Paul's, that had stood nearly a century, built, as many other places were, of brick brought from England. Since that day many a secret had been learned, and during the last three years the United States had manufactured largely, though many people sighed for foreign goods.

There were two weeks in August when Madame Badeau went away for a little rest and change of air. Mrs. Collaston decided to spend a fortnight at Bladensburg, and though Aunt Jane cheerfully offered to keep Annis, Jaqueline insisted upon adding her to the party. Little Elizabeth Patricia, commonly called Bessie, and by her father Queen Bess, was thriving wonderfully.

Jaqueline had changed a good deal, but she was a greater favorite than ever, it seemed, and had no end of admirers. One of them, a very popular and well-to-do gentleman, made her an offer of marriage.

"Are you really going to stay single forever?" exclaimed her sister. "I wouldn't take Roger Carrington now if he asked me again. A man who cannot overlook a little tiff – though you did flirt shamefully, Jaqueline! But it doesn't much matter. I observe the men are just as ready to be flirted with again. Only don't wait too long, and don't pass by the good chances."

Having made an excellent marriage herself, she considered that her counsel and advice were worth a good deal to her unmarried friends.

Roger Carrington seemed to have passed out of Jaqueline's radius, whether purposely or not. Ralston spent much of his time out of Washington, inspecting and planning fortifications. Jaqueline kept up a friendly, occasional correspondence with him, and he had been strongly interested about Charles' mishap.

She was much too proud to allow herself to think she still cared for Roger, yet she admitted in her secret heart she had seen no one to put in his place, though there might be men quite as worthy.

Dr. Collaston went up to Philadelphia for a few days, and learned that his worst fears in regard to Charles had been realized. The most celebrated surgeon at that time, who bade fair to do quite as much for the advancement of medicine as Dr. Benjamin Rush had done in his day, a Dr. Physic, had been noting the case carefully, and decided that only an operation could prevent a settled deformity. Charles was growing stronger in some respects, and when the weather became cooler this would be undertaken.

He told the elders, but they kept Annis in ignorance. She went back to school; and, though she had been small for her age, seemed suddenly to shoot up and outgrow everything.

"And I shall not be little Annis any longer. I suppose everybody does grow taller and older. And now I am past thirteen. When shall I be old enough to curtsey to Mrs. Madison?"

"Oh, you can do that at any time. And since Varina has gone to Charleston to visit Dolly Floyd, you ought to have some indulgence. She has been to a reception at the Governor's."

The election of Madison for a second term had been largely the result of the victories that had thrilled the nation. The navy was springing into existence as if by magic. Some fine English ships had been captured and graced by the Stars and Stripes, and were doing brilliant work under their new colors.

The Constellation came up the Potomac, gayly decorated with flags and bunting, and Captain Stewart gave a grand dinner, at which the President and his wife and Mrs. Madison's son, then a handsome and elegantly bred young man, were among the most distinguished guests. Louis had obtained cards for himself and lady through Judge Todd.

"You look pretty enough to be married," said Annis when she saw Jaqueline in her pretty pink gauze gown, the lace on it run with silver threads, and her dainty slippers with silver buckles set with brilliants that certainly did twinkle. The dinner was spread with every luxury the season afforded, and enhanced by the brilliant lights and profusion of cut-glass with its sparkling points. While the elders sat on the quarterdeck surrounded by some of the chief men of the nation, beneath an awning of red, white, and blue danced the belles and beaus.

Lieutenant Ralston had come late, but he was in time for the dancing. When he caught sight of Jaqueline he made his way over to her.

"It has been so long since I have seen you!" he exclaimed. "And I really had not thought of meeting you to-night, but I shall be in Washington for a fortnight or more. And gay, pretty Patty has settled into a pattern wife and mother! Does she read you lectures?"

"Sometimes," returned Jaqueline, smiling.

"Tell me about all the others. It seems an age since I have heard of any of you."

"Then if you make such a little account of my letters I shall not write you any more."

"Nay, do not be so cruel. You can hardly call them letters, they are so brief. Still, I am glad to get them, and feel anxious about the poor little boy. You think he will recover?"

"Dr. Physic holds out hopes of a successful termination. But it will be very slow."

"And that dainty little Annis? You are mothering her? Do you know, your charming solicitude made me smile. Was she much homesick after her mother?"

"Only a little at first. She goes to school and is wonderfully interested."

"And Varina? Our little wasp?" laughingly.

"Varina is spending the winter with Dolly. You know she married a Floyd connection. He has been elected a member of the State legislature this winter. Varina is quite a young lady. We Masons have a trick of growing up soon."

"And your grandmother? How fares it with her?"

Jaqueline smiled inwardly at this mark of respect, and retailed the little happenings at the Pineries. He listened attentively when Marian's name was mentioned, and made no bitter comment. Was it utter indifference?

"This is our dance," he said, offering his hand; and they glided down the polished deck. Then someone else came for her, and she saw very little more of him until he marched up to bid her good-by and assure her he should call speedily.

"What a fine fellow Ralston has made!" Louis said as they were returning home. "He has half a mind to go in the navy, he tells me. They are winning all the glory. But he is very eager about the defenses of Washington. I do wonder if there is any real danger?"

"Oh, I hope not!" anxiously.

"No; we do not want the war brought to our door."

"New York or Boston will offer greater attractions. The enemy is raging over the loss of the Guerrière, and threatens desperate revenge. Oh, we are safe enough!"

Annis was eager to hear all about the ball. Was it prettier because it was on a ship? And wasn't Jaqueline glad to see Lieutenant Ralston again? Did anyone have a more beautiful frock?

"Oh, yes!" laughed Jaqueline.

"But no one was any prettier, I am sure," she said confidently.

The enthusiasm over the victories was running high. The news came of Commodore Decatur's famous victory off the Canary Islands, when he captured the Macedonian after an hour and a half of terrific fighting, with the loss of only five men killed and seven wounded. The United States brought her prize into New York amid great rejoicing.

The news was hailed in Washington with the utmost enthusiasm. It so happened that the evening had been selected for a brilliant naval ball, to celebrate the two other victories, and as a compliment to Captain Stewart. Ralston had been in a few days before with invitations for the Collaston household.

"I almost wish I was grown up," said Annis wistfully. "Can't little girls ever see anything?"

"Why, she ought to go," declared Ralston. "There may not be such another event until peace is declared, and if we go on this way, it must be, ere long. But it will be a great thing to remember in years to come. Think of the old ladies who saw our beloved Washington and the heroes of the Revolution, how glad they are to talk it all over! Oh, Annis must go, by all means!"

"But such a mere child!" said Patty.

"Well, she has eyes and ears. I will take her myself. Mistress Annis Mason, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to the grand naval ball? It will give me a great deal of pleasure, I assure you. I am a bachelor, fancy free, so no one's heart will be broken."

He rose as he said this, and crossed the room to where Annis was sitting, leaning her arm on Jaqueline's knee.

The child colored and glanced up in a puzzled manner.

"Well – why do you not answer?" said Patty in amusement. "Madame Badeau ought to train you in polite deportment."

"Can I say just what I should like?" a little timidly, glancing from one sister to the other.

"Yes," answered Patty laughingly. "Yes," said Jaqueline a little more gravely.

Annis rose and made a formal little courtesy, holding the side of her skirt with charming grace.

"It will afford me the greatest pleasure to accept your invitation, Lieutenant Ralston," she said in a stately and dignified manner.

"Thank you! That is very handsomely done. After this show of proper and ceremonious behavior you cannot refuse her permission?" turning to the elders.

"We are vanquished, certainly," admitted Patty. "Now you may be good enough, perhaps, to tell us what she must wear."

He glanced her over. "Some simple white frock," he said. "Then you might tie a red ribbon in her hair, and put on her a blue sash, and she will be the national colors."

"Luckily her hair isn't golden or red or black, so we shall not startle anyone."

"Now, remember there is no white feather to be shown," said the lieutenant. "You may be a soldier's wife some day."

Annis blushed.

Later, when she was alone with Jaqueline, she put her arms about the elder's neck.

"Dear Jaqueline," she said with a tender accent, "do you think you will like my going to the ball? If it isn't quite right I will stay at home. And are you sure the lieutenant was in earnest?"

"There is no reason why you should not go, except that children are not generally taken to balls. And it will be a grand thing for you to remember."

Annis kissed her, much relieved.

"I do so want to go," she returned after a little pause.

And that morning the news was announced by an extra from the office of the National Intelligencer. People went about in high spirits. As soon as the twilight appeared illuminations sprang up at many important points. Private houses were aglow from every window, and more than one flag waved. Washington was full of gayety and rejoicing. And some who did not go to the ball had strains of patriotic music to cheer the passer-by.

Entertainments began early. Tomlinson's Hotel was soon filled with guests, the beauty and fashion of the city. The captured flags of the Alert and Guerrière were arranged over a sort of dais where Mrs. Madison and the Cabinet ladies sat, while the secretaries stood about them. There was a host of military and naval men. Gold lace and epaulettes and swords gleamed with every movement, while women were lovely in satins and velvets and laces. Mrs. Madison wore a handsome gray velvet, trimmed with yellow satin and lace, and on her head a filmy sort of turban with some short white plumes. A neckerchief of fine soft lace rested lightly on her shoulders, but displayed the still beautiful throat and neck. The little curls across her forehead were still jet-black, and though women powdered and rouged, she was one of the few who "wore a natural complexion," said a newspaper correspondent.

One and another made a bow to her and passed on. Dr. Collaston and his wife, Jaqueline and a handsome young naval officer, and then Lieutenant Ralston and his young charge. Annis was a little bewildered. She had seen Mrs. Madison in the carriage, and at times walking about the grounds at the White House; but this really awed her, and a rush of color came to her fair face. Mrs. Madison held out her hand, and gave her a kindly greeting.

"What a pretty child!" she said to one of the ladies. "The American colors, too. How proud the lieutenant was of her! I remember now that Miss Jaqueline Mason is quite a belle. Perhaps it is her sister."

"That was beautifully done, Annis," whispered the lieutenant. "Now there is a friend of mine, a young midshipman, that you must meet. Will it be out of order for you to dance, I wonder? And there is Captain Hull. You must see all the heroes, so you can tell the story over your grandchildren."

It seemed to Annis that everyone must be a hero. There was the young middy, a Mr. Yardley, who did not look over sixteen, and who was going out on his first cruise next week.

"Has Miss Mason any relatives in the war?"

How queer "Miss Mason" sounded! She looked about to see who was meant. The young man complimented her on her colors. He had a brother, a lieutenant on the Constitution, and two cousins in the army on the frontier. We should gain the victory again, as we did in the Revolution. As a boy he used to be sorry he had not lived then, but this made amends. Only, nothing could compensate for not having seen Washington, the hero of them all.

Presently the dancing began. Mrs. Collaston and Jaqueline were both engaged, but Jaqueline put Annis in charge of a charming middle-aged woman whose daughters were dancing, and who, being a Virginian and residing at Yorktown, could recall all the particulars of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis.

Then Annis had her promised dance with the lieutenant. It was like a bit of fairyland. She thought Cinderella could not have been any happier with the prince. Afterward Mr. Yardley came, though by this time the floor was pretty well crowded. He was about to lead her back to Jaqueline, who was talking with Mrs. Todd, when she stopped suddenly and put out her hand.

"Oh!" she cried, then turned rosy-red.

"Is it – why, it is little Annis Bouvier! Child, how you have grown! Do they let you go to balls as young as this?"

"I wanted to so much. And it is beautiful! They are all here – "

There was a sudden commotion. Half a dozen gentlemen cut off their retreat. Then a whisper went round the room, growing louder and louder, and cheers sounded in the hallway.

"Ensign Hamilton with the captured flag!"

Secretary Hamilton rose, and the throng made way for him. Just at the doorway they met, the son with dispatches from Commodore Decatur and the captured colors of the Macedonian. A cheer almost rent the room. And as he advanced his mother met him with a clasp of wordless joy.

The President had been detained on some important business. But the procession made its way to the dais where the ladies were sitting, and the trophy of victory was unfurled amid loud acclamations. The band played "Hail, Columbia!" and when it ceased the young man modestly made a brief speech. The dispatches were for the President; the flag he laid at Mrs. Madison's feet – the flag that was next of kin to that of the Guerrière.

The enthusiasm was so great that the dancing stopped. The flag was raised to a place beside that of the other two trophies. Old veterans wiped their eyes, the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and more than one voice had a break in it.

Annis stood breathless. Mr. Carrington towered above her, and he could barely see; but he had heard the story in the hall, and was repeating it. The clasp of her soft hand touched him.

"If you want to go nearer," he said to Mr. Yardley, "I will take care of Miss Annis. I am an old friend of the family."

"It would be hopeless to think of getting her to her sister's just now. Yes – I should like to see young Hamilton."

"That is excuse enough for anyone," and Carrington smiled, bowing a polite dismissal.

"I am so glad to find you!" Annis said with childlike simplicity. "We have missed you so much. Where have you been all this long time?"

"We? Who?" He bowed his head a little.

"Charles and I. And do you know Charles is ill and in the doctor's hands at Philadelphia?"

"No; I have been away three months – up on the northern frontier and in Boston. Poor Charles! Is he likely to recover?"

"He was to come home at Christmas, but he can't now," and she sighed a little. "And papa too," irrelevantly thinking of his earlier question. "We were all sorry."

"I don't think everybody could have been," after a little pause.

She raised her soft, beseeching eyes. "Are you still angry with Jaqueline?" she asked. "I am sure she is sorry. Patty teases her and says she will be an old maid because – "