“Thus armed,” wrote Van Buren years later, “we repaired to the dinner with feelings on the part of the Chief akin to those which would have animated his breast if the scene of this preliminary skirmish in defense of the Union had been the field of battle instead of the festive board.”[260] When Benton arrived that night, he found a full assemblage, with the guests scattered about in groups excitedly examining the list of toasts, and discussing their significance. The congressional delegation from Pennsylvania, on scenting the conspiracy, left the hall before the dinner began. Many others, not caring to associate themselves with such a movement, retired, thus depriving themselves of a triumph. But many remained, among them four members of the Cabinet, Van Buren, Eaton, Branch, and Barry. During the toasts, which were so numerous and lengthy that they required eleven columns in the “National Telegraph,” Jackson sat stern and impassive, betraying nothing of his intention. At length, the regular toasts given, the volunteer toasts were called for, and Jackson rose. As he did so, Van Buren, who was short in stature, stood on his chair to observe the effect better.[261] Straightening himself to his full height, and fixing Calhoun with his penetrating eye, he paused a moment, and then, following the hush, proposed the most dramatic and historical toast in American history: “Our Federal Union: It must and shall be preserved.”[262] There was no possible misunderstanding of the meaning. From the time of the delivery of the Webster speech the value of the Union had been discussed with a disconcerting freedom of expression. The rumor was afloat in the capital that Calhoun had sinister designs, and proposed to place himself at the head of a disloyal movement of the extreme State Rights men. The toasts of the evening had told their tale of the dinner conspiracy. And Jackson’s brief, meaningful sentence cut like a knife. It was something more than a toast--it was a presidential proclamation. Without a word more, Jackson lifted his glass as a sign that the toast was to be drunk standing. Calhoun rose with the rest. “His glass trembled in his hand and a little of the amber fluid trickled down the side.”[263] There was no response. Jackson stood there, silent and impassive--clearly the master of the situation. All hilarity had gone. Jackson left his place, and, going to the far end of the room, engaged Benton in conversation, but not upon the subject of the dinner. When all were seated, Calhoun, who had remained standing, slowly and hesitatingly proposed: “The Union: next to our liberty, the most dear.” Then, after a pause of half a minute, he proceeded in such a fashion as to leave doubt as to whether the concluding sentence was a part of the toast, or a brief speech: “May we all remember that it can only be preserved by respecting the rights of the States, and by distributing equally the benefits and burdens of the Union.”