He pleaded with the men, called upon their senses of duty and honor, and begged for more time to correct the failures of the Congress.  As he gazed out at the crowd in front of him, he was overcome with a sense of defeat. Brutus’ rhetoric had been far more eloquent than his own.  Washington had failed.

In desperation, he retrieved a letter from his from his coat that was written by Congressman Jones.  The letter praised the brave men for their selfless duty and offered his utmost support to their cause.  The hastily written script of the letter was tiny and difficult for Washington to see.  His eyes failed to focus on the words and they blurred together.  He stumbled through the first few sentences of the letter.  The murmurs from the crowd were increasing, he had lost them completely.

Washington stopped, embarrassed and broken, and removed a pair of spectacles from the pocket of his regimentals.  As he placed the glasses on his face, he said, ‘Gentlemen, you must pardon me. I have grown gray in your service, and now find myself growing blind.’  Very few of them even knew that he wore glasses.  They had always knew the man as the fearless, frontline commander, now they saw him for what he truly was.

Washington was a man that had given the better part of his life to his country for future generations he would never know.  They had seen him exhausted before, but he now displayed the look of being worn and battered from the years of sacrifice.  He appeared vulnerable and heartbroken.  If he, who had given so much, could still have faith in the fledgling country, then who were they to question?

His words mattered little from that point on.  The emotion that he displayed was what moved the men.  Some sat in silent shame for their actions, while others wept openly for the burdens that the man standing in front of them had silently borne for years.  As he finished the letter, he quietly left through the side door from which he came.  His head hung low in sorrow and defeat.

Gates never had an opportunity to reclaim the men in the room.  The emotion displayed by Washington had moved them greatly.  They decided on a new resolution that expressed their ‘unshaken confidence’ in Washington and the Congress.

Ultimately, Congress failed Washington and the army.  The debts were never paid in full.  Despite the egregious failure, an important precedence was established.  The men, who had sacrificed so much, chose to sacrifice once again.  They decided against a second revolution out of love of country.  For out of revolution, the prospect of an even greater tyranny is always at hand.

I’ve heard the murmurs among the crowds I’ve spoken to for another revolution, a bloody revolution against the tyrannies of the day.  Friends, let us not rush headlong into this. If we carelessly cast reason aside, we may invite a tyranny even greater than we can imagine.  We must stand firmly rooted in our values and principles. I agree it will cost many of us our lives, fortunes and sacred honor – just as it cost the men of the Revolution, countless men who gave all, and died broken and penniless.  We still have recourse though; we’ve not exhausted our options.  It’ll take great sacrifice to right our course, but it can be done.  Let us not give in yet. I will lead you, if you will have me.”

The crowd’s reaction was mixed; most cheered enthusiastically, but some were disappointed with his words.  Despite the misgivings of the few, the circle echoed with the sound of applause and roars of support.  Ames continued to enthusiastically walk the monument steps as they applauded, spurring them along and cheering with them as tears began to fill his eyes.

They never heard the report from the high-powered rifle, but they watched the senator collapse before them.  The display seemed almost surreal and in slow motion.  He was quickly swarmed by men in suits, their weapons drawn.  The head of his security detail reached the body of the senator first.  He shouted into the cuff of his jacket in a desperate voice, “Oh God, oh God; he’s gone.”

Cha pter 30

Governor Baker

Austin, Texas

Governor Baker walked the long hall in solitude.  The underground wings of the capitol building were institutional and spartan in appearance and nature.  There were no decorations or furnishings other than a few pictures that hung on the wall.  Somewhere behind him a rogue fluorescent light flickered occasionally, compounding the bleakness of the place.  The gloomy atmosphere magnified his somber mood.

He had sent everyone home for the next several days – his advisors, their staff, maintenance, everyone except security.  He wanted them to have a few nights at home with their families, for there would be scarce time for that when they returned.  As he reached the end of the hall, he turned the knob and entered his office.

He sat behind his desk and turned on the small television that hung on the wall.  He muted it while the marionettes bantered back and forth in anticipation of the president’s address from the oval office.  He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples to try and help relieve some of the tension.  He sat in silence for a while as he tried to forget the events of the last few weeks, if only for a moment, but he could not.

When Baker opened his eyes, the screen had changed to a scene in the oval office.  The president was solemnly sitting behind the Resolute Desk.  The desk was crafted from salvaged timbers taken from the British ship, the HMS Resolute.  It had been a gift from Queen Victoria to President Hayes in 1880.

The governor had always found the story of the desk fascinating.  The Resolute was part of a squadron sent from Britain in 1852 to search for a missing explorer.  Sir John Franklin had left Britain in search of a passage through the Canadian Arctic.  During the expedition, several of his ships became trapped in ice packs and were left by their captains, who ultimately faced a court-martial for their acts of abandonment.  In 1855, an American whaler from Connecticut saw the Resolute adrift off the coast of Cape Walsingham. He divided his crew and sailed her home, arriving on Christmas Eve.

In the meantime, the relationship between Britain and America was at a breaking point. The two countries were once again at the brink of war. The president had ceased diplomatic relations with Britain and had closed all British embassies. Escalating threats from each side only served to increase the tension between the nations.

Just as the relationship appeared irreconcilable, and war inevitable, a senator from Virginia proposed that America refurbish the Resolute and sail her back to Britain as a gesture of goodwill.  The British were so taken by the gesture, the talks of war ceased.  Years later, the Queen would return the favor with the gift of the desk as the ship was being decommissioned.  The desk would serve as a reminder of a nation that valued her allies and resolved to war only when necessary.

Governor Baker unmuted the television as the president began his speech.

“My fellows Americans, I come to you with a heavy heart.  Thes e are trying times that we face.  Our nation hasn’t weathered a crisis of this scale since its birth.  Yesterday, Senator Jackson Ames was assassinated in Indianapolis by a member of a radical, communist group.  I express my deepest condolences to the Ames family. I deeply respected the man and looked forward to facing him in the election.  Please take comfort in knowing that we have apprehended the individual responsible for this reprehensible act.

Senator Ames’ running mate, Governor Hawkins of Florida, released a statement earlier today stating he had no desire to continue the campaign in place of the senator.  Until a new candidate can be selected, Congress has passed a resolution to postpone the election until further notice.