Nor was this gift of 1791 the only time the State of Maryland
offered the national government its terrain and territory as an official
seat of government. There was an earlier occasion, and it is this
occasion of Maryland generosity to the struggling young national gov-
ernment that appeals to me most.

It happened in 1783, when the national government—at the time
of the Continental Congress—also was hunting for a place to meet.
It had been to Philadelphia, and had been grossly insulted there. So
that, it moved to Princeton, New Jersey, where it had been compelled
to work in intolerably cramped quarters. Where was it to turn to find
a meeting place of safety and of suitable dignity? That was the question
before it, and Maryland supplied the answer. Maryland offered its
handsome new State House and its charming capital city, a truly
princely gesture.

Need I say that Congress accepted the offer? And that Annapolis,
in 1783, became our national capital? Need I? I am sure that we
Marylanders know about this, but how much of it is a part of our
thoughts as we consider our lovely Annapolis today? Do we remember
the year when the eyes of the whole nation turned toward us, when
George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe were familiar
figures upon the streets of Annapolis? When we go into our State
House, do we recall that its walls echoed with Jefferson's voice, as he
called upon Congress to take the action that would make us an
independent nation—that is, to ratify the treaty with Great Britain
that formally ended our War for Independence?

Another instance in which Maryland met an emergency for the
whole American nation occurred within a few miles of where we are
here this evening. It occurred on August 27, 1776, when, on Long
Island, the newly formed and as yet untrained American army Jay
almost surrounded by a mighty force of British regulars, supported by

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