My worthy manager had often pressed me to accompany him on one of our
off-nights to Alexandria, which he assured me boasted a very pretty
theatre, and a population, if not generally theatrical, still capable of
filling the house for two or three nights upon an extraordinary
occasion. Such he was pleased to consider the present; and although I
suggested the probability that most of the play-loving Alexandrians had
most likely, during the late very lovely nights, visited the Washington
theatre, Mr. Jefferson argued, there yet existed a sufficient body, of
the unsatisfied curious, to repay us for our short trip. A steam-boat,
he said, would take down him and his troop, bag and baggage, in a couple
of hours; and, as I was fond of riding, it was for me but a pleasant
canter.
As it was my intention to pass a few hours at this city, whose spires
might be seen any fine day from George-town heights, and close to which
lived a gentleman whom I had promised to visit, I decided with the
manager upon making trial of our popularity by convening on a certain
evening a public meeting of its inhabitants; our object being similar to
that of most conveners of public meetings, viz. to amuse the lieges and
benefit ourselves.
The town was advertised of our intended purpose, the night appointed,
and all the usual blowing of trumpets duly done, when on the forenoon of
a lovely day, accompanied by Captain R----y of the navy, I traversed the
interminable-looking bridge uniting the district of Columbia with
Virginia, and entered the _Old Dominion_, as the natives love to
distinguish their State.
The road was excellent, bordered with turf nearly the whole way, and
commanding extensive and varied views of the Potomac, together with
George-town and the Capitol. I often halted and turned my horse's head
to look upon this picture, for such it truly was. Nothing, in fact, can
be more panoramic than the aspect of these cities, lying in one of the
best-defined and most beautiful of natural amphitheatres, and flanked by
the grandest of rivers. At the distance of five or six miles all the
meannesses of the city are lost sight of, and the extreme ends, so
widely apart, and so worthily bounded, by the Capitol on the north and
the President's mansion, with the surrounding offices belonging to the
state department, on the south, combined with the dock-yard and a few
other large public buildings in the middle distance, give to the
metropolis of America an aspect no way unworthy of its high destiny.
Arrived at Shooter's Hill, the seat of Mr. D----y, we were encountered
with a welcome characteristic of a Virginian gentleman on his own soil,
and worthy the descendant of an Irishman.
Here then we dined, took our _tisan de champagne glacee_ upon the
well-shaded gallery fronting the river, and in due time I mounted, and
rode down to the city, to make my toilet and receive the Alexandrians.
The first I soon effected, and the last I should have rejoiced to have
also done; but they would not be received--"the more we waited, the more
they would not come."
I took possession of the stage, the only portion of the house occupied,
where, eyed by half a dozen curious negroes, who were evidently
amateurs, and by their good-humoured air ready to become admirers, I
awaited the appearance of the audience. In lieu of these, some half-hour
after the time of beginning, Mr. Jefferson made his appearance _solus_,
with an expression half comic, half vexed.
"It's no go, my good friend," said I.
"They're not come _yet_" said Mr. J.
"Nor are they on the road, Mr. Jefferson."
"They're a long way off, I guess, if they are," said he.
"And won't arrive in time, that's clear. Hadn't you better postpone the
business _sine die_?"
"We've nothing else left for it, I fear," said Mr. J., taking a last
careful survey of the well-lighted solitary _salle_: adding, "We must
dismiss."
"That ceremony will be quite superfluous," observed I, "unless as far as
we ourselves are concerned, and our sable friends here."
I had observed that the two or three little knots occupying the
intervals of the side-scenes were evidently interested observers of our
debate, and grieved and disappointed by the result. I should have liked
to have put them all into the front, and then have acted to them, could
one have insured their not being intruded on by any stray white-man. As
it was, Mr. Jefferson begged me to consider myself at perfect liberty.
"It's provoking too," added my good-humoured manager, who was quite a
philosopher in his vocation; "for it's a pretty theatre, isn't it?"
"It is a very pretty theatre," responded I. And so it was, exceedingly
so. It had been built when the place flourished, and the community was
prosperous and could afford to be merry. Now, trade having decayed, and
money ceased to circulate, the blood has also grown stagnant amongst
this once gay people: the fire is out and the drama's spirit fled.
Mr. Jefferson, however, had a much more summary mode of accounting for
our desolate state; for, on my suggesting that his bills might have been
ill distributed or his notice insufficient,--being rather desirous thus
to find a loophole for my vanity to creep out of,--he convinced me that
all points of 'vantage had been most provokingly well cared for.
"What the plague can be the reason they won't come for _once_, at least,
Mr. J.? One would be less surprised at their not answering to a second
summons."
Jefferson shook his head, in a fashion that expressed more than even
Puff designed Lord Burleigh's shake to convey:[9] adding, by way of
commentary,
"The Bank question, sir! all the Bank question!"
I waited for no more, feeling that this was indeed an explanation
sufficiently satisfactory; since, for some time, it served to account
fully for every possible event, moral and physical,--the depression of
the markets, the failure of the fruit-crop, the non-arrival of the
packets, the sinking of stock, and the flooding of the Ohio.
Joining my friends at the hotel,--an exceedingly good one, by the
way,--we were soon once more in saddle; and, lighted by as beautiful a
moon as ever silvered the smooth surface of the Potomac, off I dashed
with them, for Washington at a slapping pace, in no way regretting my
having visited Alexandria or my premature return, since my day had been
most delightfully passed: and my not having a _soiree_ of my own,
enabled me to assist at one given by a very charming and intelligent
person, to which I was bidden, but in consequence of my engagement to
Mr. J. had no hopes of attending.