THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION

                                  OF

                           THOMAS JEFFERSON

                               1805–1809




                                HISTORY

                                OF THE

                       UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

                  DURING THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION OF

                           THOMAS JEFFERSON


                            BY HENRY ADAMS


                               VOL. III.


                               NEW YORK
                        CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
                                 1921




                           _Copyright, 1890_

                      BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS.


                           _Copyright, 1918_

                            BY HENRY ADAMS

  [Illustration]




                         CONTENTS OF VOL. III.


    CHAPTER                                         PAGE

        I.  INTERNAL IMPROVEMENT                       1

       II.  MONROE’S DIPLOMACY                        22

      III.  CABINET VACILLATIONS                      54

       IV.  BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND                80

        V.  THE FLORIDA MESSAGE                      103

       VI.  THE TWO-MILLION ACT                      126

      VII.  JOHN RANDOLPH’S SCHISM                   147

     VIII.  MADISON’S ENEMIES                        172

       IX.  DOMESTIC AFFAIRS                         197

        X.  BURR’S SCHEMES                           219

       XI.  BURR’S PREPARATIONS                      245

      XII.  ESCAPE PAST FORT MASSAC                  268

     XIII.  CLAIBORNE AND WILKINSON                  295

      XIV.  COLLAPSE OF THE CONSPIRACY               318

       XV.  SESSION OF 1806–1807                     344

      XVI.  THE BERLIN DECREE                        370

     XVII.  MONROE’S TREATY                          392

    XVIII.  REJECTION OF MONROE’S TREATY             415

      XIX.  BURR’S TRIAL                             441




                     HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES.




                              CHAPTER I.


A SECOND time President Jefferson appeared at the Capitol,
escorted with due formalities by a procession of militia-men and other
citizens; and once more he delivered an inaugural address, “in so
low a voice that not half of it was heard by any part of the crowded
auditory.”[1] The second Inaugural roused neither the bitterness nor
the applause which greeted the first, although in part it was intended
as a cry of triumph over the principles and vanishing power of New
England.

Among Jefferson’s manuscripts he preserved a curious memorandum
explaining the ideas of this address. As the first Inaugural declared
the principles which were to guide the government in Republican hands,
the second should report the success of these principles, and recall
the results already reached. The task deserved all the eloquence and
loftiness of thought that philosophy could command; for Jefferson had
made a democratic polity victorious at home and respectable in the
world’s eyes, and the privilege of hearing him reaffirm his doctrines
and pronounce their success was one that could never be renewed. The
Moses of democracy, he had the glory of leading his followers into
their promised and conquered Canaan.

Jefferson began by renewing the professions of his foreign policy:--

   “With nations, as with individuals, our interests, soundly
   calculated, will ever be found inseparable from our moral
   duties; and history bears witness to the fact that a just nation
   is taken on its word, when recourse is had to armaments and wars
   to bridle others.”

The sentiments were excellent; but many of Jefferson’s followers must
have asked themselves in what history they could find the fact, which
the President asserted, that a just nation was taken on its word;
and they must have been still more perplexed to name the nation,
just or unjust, which was taken on its word by any other in the
actual condition of the world. Without dwelling on this topic, which
had already become one of interest in the councils of his Cabinet,
Jefferson, passing to practical questions involved in redemption of
debt, advanced a new idea.

   “Redemption once effected,” he said, “the revenue thereby
   liberated may, by a just repartition among the States and
   a corresponding amendment of the Constitution, be applied,
   _in time of peace_, to rivers, canals, roads, arts,
   manufactures, education, and other great objects within each
   State. _In time of war_,--if injustice, by ourselves or
   others, must sometimes produce war,--increased as the same
   revenue will be increased by population and consumption, and
   aided by other resources reserved for that crisis, it may meet
   within the year all the expenses of the year without encroaching
   on the rights of future generations by burdening them with the
   debts of the past. War will then be but a suspension of useful
   works, and a return to a state of peace a return to the progress
   of improvement.”

Ten years earlier, in the mouth of President Washington, this sentiment
would have been generally denounced as proof of monarchical designs.
That Jefferson was willing not only to assume powers for the central
government, but also to part from his States-rights associates and to
gratify the Northern democrats by many concessions of principle, his
first Administration had already proved; but John Randolph might wonder
to see him stride so fast and far toward what had been ever denounced
as Roman imperialism and corruption; to hear him advise a change of
the Constitution in order to create an annual fund for public works,
for the arts, for education, and even for such manufactures as the
people might want,--a fund which was to be distributed to the States,
thus putting in the hands of the central government an instrument of
corruption, and making the States stipendiaries of Congress. Every
principle of the Republican party, past or to come, was put to nought
by a policy which contradicted the famous sentiment of Jefferson’s
first annual message: “Sound principles will not justify our taxing
the industry of our fellow-citizens to accumulate treasure for wars
to happen we know not when, and which might not perhaps happen but
from the temptations offered by that treasure.” Yet pregnant as this
new principle might be in connection with the Constitution and the
Union, its bearing on foreign affairs was more startling. Jefferson,
the apostle of peace, asked for a war fund which should enable his
government to wage indefinite hostilities without borrowing money!

Quitting this dangerous ground, the President spoke of the Louisiana
purchase. Then followed a paragraph upon religion. Next he came to the
subject of the Indians, and chose this unusual medium for enforcing
favorite philosophical doctrines. The memorandum written to explain his
address declared the reasons that led him to use the mask of Indian
philanthropy to disguise an attack upon conservatism.[2]

   “Every respecter of science,” said this memorandum, “every
   friend to political reformation, must have observed with
   indignation the hue-and-cry raised against philosophy and
   the rights of man; and it really seems as if they would
   be overborne, and barbarism, bigotry, and despotism would
   recover the ground they have lost by the advance of the public
   understanding. I have thought the occasion justified some
   discountenance of these anti-social doctrines, some testimony
   against them; but not to commit myself in direct warfare on
   them, I have thought it best to say what is directly applied
   to the Indians only, but admits by inference a more general
   extension.”

In truth, under the lead of Napoleon and Pitt, Europe seemed bent on
turning back the march of time and renewing the bigotry and despotism
of the Middle Ages; but this occasion hardly dignified Jefferson’s
method of bearing testimony against the danger, by not committing
himself to direct warfare upon it, but by applying to Indians the
homily which by inference included the churches of New England.

   “The aboriginal inhabitants of these countries,” said the
   President to his great audience, “I have regarded with the
   commiseration their history inspires. Endowed with the faculties
   and the rights of men, breathing an ardent love of liberty and
   independence, and occupying a country which left them no desire
   but to be undisturbed, the stream of overflowing population from
   other regions directed itself on these shores.”

If the Boston newspapers were not weary of ridiculing Jefferson’s
rhetoric, this sentence was fitted to rouse their jaded amusement;
but in a few moments they had reason to feel other emotions. He said
that he had done what humanity required, and had tried to teach the
Indians agriculture and other industries in order to prepare them for
new conditions of life,--a claim not only true, but also honorable to
him. Unfortunately these attempts met with obstacles from the Indians
themselves:--

   “They are combated by the habits of their bodies, prejudice of
   their minds, ignorance, pride, and the influence of interested
   and crafty individuals among them, who feel themselves something
   in the present order of things, and fear to become nothing in
   any other. These persons inculcate a sanctimonious reverence
   for the customs of their ancestors; that whatsoever they did
   must be done through all time; that reason is a false guide,
   and to advance under its counsel, in their physical, moral, or
   political condition, is perilous innovation; that their duty is
   to remain as their Creator made them, ignorance being safety,
   and knowledge full of danger. In short, my friends, among them
   is seen the action and counter-action of good sense and bigotry;
   they too have their anti-philosophers, who find an interest in
   keeping things in their present state, who dread reformation,
   and exert all their faculties to maintain the ascendency of
   habit over the duty of improving our reason and obeying its
   mandates.”

Gallatin remonstrated in vain against this allusion to New England
habits;[3] the President could not resist the temptation to strike once
more his old enemies. Gallatin, whose sense of humor was keener than
that of Jefferson, must have been amused by the travesty of New England
under the war-paint and blankets of the Choctaws and Kickapoos; but
Jefferson was never more serious than in believing that the people of
Massachusetts and Connecticut were held in darkness by a few interested
“medicine-men,” and that he could, without committing himself in
direct warfare, insult the clergy, lawyers, and keen-witted squirarchy
of New England, thus held up “by inference” to the world as the
equivalent to so many savages.

The rest of the Inaugural was chiefly devoted to the press and its
licentiousness. Jefferson expressed himself strongly in regard to
the slanders he had received, and even hinted that he would be glad
to see the State laws of libel applied to punish the offenders; but
he pointed out that slander had no political success, and that it
might safely he disregarded as a political weapon. He urged “doubting
brethren” to give up their fears and prejudices, and to join with
the mass of their fellow-citizens. “In the mean time let us cherish
them with patient affection; let us do them justice, and more than
justice, in all competitions of interest.” Finally, as though to
silence the New-England pulpit, he closed with a few words which the
clergy might perhaps think misplaced in the mouth of so earnest a
deist,--an invocation of “that Being in whose hands we are, who led our
forefathers, as Israel of old,” to the “country flowing with all the
necessaries and comforts of life, ... and to whose goodness I ask you
to join with me in supplications.”

The Second Inaugural strode far beyond the first in the path of
democracy, away from the landmarks of Virginia republicanism, betraying
what Jefferson’s friends and enemies alike thought a craving for
popularity. If this instinct sometimes led him to forget principles he
had once asserted, and which he would some day again declare vital, the
quality was so amiable as to cover many shortcomings; but its influence
on national growth could not be disputed. Jefferson cherished but one
last desire,--to reach the end of his next term without disaster. He
frankly expressed this feeling in a letter written to General Heath
soon after the autumn election of 1804, which gave him the electoral
vote of Massachusetts:--

   “I sincerely join you,” said he, “in congratulations on the
   return of Massachusetts into the fold of the Union. This is
   truly the case wherein we may say, ‘This our brother was dead,
   and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’ It is but too
   true that our Union could not be pronounced entirely sound
   while so respectable a member as Massachusetts was under morbid
   affection. All will now come to rights.... The new century
   opened itself by committing us on a boisterous ocean; but all
   is now subsiding; peace is smoothing our path at home and
   abroad; and if we are not wanting in the practice of justice and
   moderation, our tranquillity and prosperity may be preserved
   until increasing numbers shall leave us nothing to fear from
   abroad. With England we are in cordial friendship; with France
   in the most perfect understanding; with Spain we shall always
   be bickering, but never at war till we seek it. Other nations
   view our course with respect and friendly anxiety. Should we
   be able to preserve this state of public happiness, and to see
   our citizens, whom we found so divided, rally to their genuine
   principles, I shall hope yet to enjoy the comfort of that
   general good-will which has been so unfeelingly wrested from
   me, and to sing at the close of my term the _Nunc dimittis,
   Domine_, with a satisfaction leaving nothing to desire but
   the last great audit.”[4]

He could not forgive the New England clergy their want of feeling in
wresting from him ever so small a share of the general good-will, and
he looked forward with impatience to the moment when he should enjoy
universal applause and respect. In December, 1804, when this letter
was written, he felt confident that his splendid triumph would last
unchecked to the end of his public career; but the prize of general
good-will, which seemed then almost won, continually eluded his
grasp. The election of November, 1804, was followed by the session of
1804–1805, which stirred bad blood even in Virginia, and betrayed a
spirit of faction among his oldest friends. His Inaugural Address of
March, 1805, with its mixture of bitter-sweet, was answered within
a few weeks by Massachusetts. At the April election the Federalists
reversed the result of November, and re-elected Caleb Strong as
governor by a vote of about 35,200 against 33,800, with a Federalist
majority in the Legislature. Even in Pennsylvania divisions among
Jefferson’s followers increased, until in the autumn of 1805 Duane and
Leib set up a candidate of their own choice for governor, and forced
McKean, Dallas, and Gallatin’s friends to unite with the Federalists in
order to reelect McKean. Jefferson balanced anxiously between these
warring factions, trying to offend neither Duane nor John Randolph,
nor even Burr, while he still drew the mass of moderate Federalists to
sympathize in his views.

Thus the new Presidential term began, bringing with it little sign of
change. The old arrangements were continued, with but one exception.
Madison, Gallatin, Robert Smith, and Dearborn remained in the Cabinet;
but Attorney-General Lincoln resigned, and Robert Smith asked to
be transferred from the Navy Department to the Attorney-General’s
office.[5] After some hesitation Jefferson yielded to Smith’s request
and consented to the transfer. As Smith’s successor in the Navy
Department Jefferson selected Jacob Crowninshield, a member of Congress
from Massachusetts, who was then at Washington. Crowninshield, in
consequence of his wife’s objection to leaving her family, declined
the offer, Jan. 29, 1805,[6] but the President nevertheless sent the
nomination to the Senate, March 2, 1805, together with that of Robert
Smith, “now Secretary of the Navy to be Attorney-General of the United
States.” The same day the Senate confirmed both appointments, and the
commissions were regularly issued, March 3,--Robert Smith apparently
ceasing thenceforward to possess any legal authority over the Navy
Department.

Nevertheless Crowninshield persisted in declining the office, and
Robert Smith continued to act as Secretary of the Navy, probably
by the verbal request of the President. At length he consented to
retain his old position permanently, and Jefferson sought for a new
attorney-general. He offered the post, June 15, to John Julius Pringle
of South Carolina, who declined. He then offered it, July 14, to
John Thomson Mason, who also declined. August 7, Jefferson wrote to
Senator Breckinridge of Kentucky, asking him to accept the office of
attorney-general, and a temporary commission was the same day issued to
him.

When Congress met, Dec. 2, 1805, Breckenridge was attorney-general
under a temporary commission, and Robert Smith, who had ceased to be
Secretary of the Navy on the confirmation of his successor, March 3,
was acting as secretary under no apparent authority. Dec. 20, 1805, the
President sent a message to the Senate making nominations for vacancies
which had occurred during the recess, for which commissions had been
granted “to the persons herein respectively named.” One of these
persons was John Breckinridge of Kentucky to be Attorney-General of the
United States, and the nomination was duly confirmed. Breckenridge’s
permanent commission bore date Jan. 17, 1806.

These dates and facts were curious for the reason that Robert
Smith, who had ceased to be Secretary of the Navy, March 3, 1805,
ceased necessarily to be attorney-general on the confirmation of
Breckinridge, and continued to act as Secretary of the Navy without
authority of law. The President did not send his name to the Senate,
or issue to him a new commission either permanent or temporary. On the
official records of the Department of State, not Robert Smith but Jacob
Crowninshield was Secretary of the Navy from March 3, 1805, till March
7, 1809, when his successor was appointed, although Jacob Crowninshield
died April 15, 1808, and Robert Smith never ceased to act as Secretary
of the Navy from his appointment in 1801 to his appointment as
Secretary of State in 1809. During the whole period of Jefferson’s
second administration, his Secretary of the Navy acted by no known
authority except the verbal request or permission of the President.

In perfect quiet, disturbed only by rumors of wars abroad, spring
crept forward to summer, summer ripened to autumn. Peace was restored
with Tripoli; commerce grew apace; the revenue rose to $14,000,000;
the Treasury was near a surfeit; no sign appeared of check to the
immense prosperity which diffused itself through every rivulet in
the wilderness, and the President could see no limit to its future
increase. In 1804 he had sent out an expedition under Captain
Meriwether Lewis to explore the Louisiana purchase along the course
of the Missouri River. May 14, 1804, Lewis and his party began their
journey from St. Louis, and without serious difficulty reached the
Mandan towns, sixteen hundred and nine miles from the starting point,
where, Nov. 1, 1804, they went into winter quarters. April 8,
1805, Lewis resumed his journey to the westward, sending the report
of his wanderings to Washington. This report told only of a vast
region inhabited by Indian tribes and disturbed by the restless and
murderous Sioux; but it served to prove the immensity of the new world
which Jefferson’s government had given to the American people. Other
explorations had been begun along the line of the Red and Washita
rivers. In such contributions to human knowledge Jefferson took keen
interest, for he had no greater delight than in science and in whatever
tended to widen the field of knowledge.

These explorations of the territory beyond the Mississippi had little
immediate bearing on the interests of commerce or agriculture; but
the government was actively engaged in measures of direct value. July
4, 1805, William Henry Harrison, Governor of the Indiana Territory,
closed a bargain with the Wyandots, Ottawas, and other Indian tribes,
by which the Indian title over another part of Ohio was extinguished.
The Indians thenceforward held within the State of Ohio only the
country west of Sandusky and north of the old line fixed by the treaty
of Greenville. Within the year the Piankeshaw tribe sold for a small
annuity a tract of land in southern Indiana, along the Ohio River,
which made the United States government master of the whole north bank
of the Ohio to its mouth. These concessions, of the utmost value, were
obtained at a trifling cost. “The average price paid for the Indian
lands within the last four years,” wrote the Secretary of War,[7] “does
not amount to one cent per acre.” The Chickasaws and Cherokees sold
a very large district between the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers in
Tennessee, so that thenceforward the road from Knoxville to Nashville
passed through no Indian land. In Georgia the Creeks were induced to
sell an important territory between the Oconee and Ocmulgee rivers.
In these treaties provision was also made for horse-roads through
the Creek and Cherokee country, both from Knoxville and from central
Georgia to the Mobile River.

Besides the many millions of acres thus gained for immediate
improvement, these treaties had no little strategic value in case of
war. No foreign country could fail to see that the outlying American
settlements were defenceless in their isolation. Even the fort and
village at Detroit were separated from the nearest white village by
a wide Indian country impassable to wagons or artillery; and the
helplessness of such posts was so evident as to impress every observer.

   “The principles of our government,” said Jefferson when danger
   at last arose,[8] “leading us to the employment of such moderate
   garrisons in time of peace as may merely take care of the post,
   and to a reliance on the neighboring militia for its support in
   the first moments of war, I have thought it would be important
   to obtain from the Indians such a cession in the neighborhood
   of these posts as might maintain a militia proportioned to this
   object.”

This “principle of our government” that the settlers should protect the
army, not the army the settlers, was so rigorously carried out that
every new purchase of Indian lands was equivalent to providing a new
army. The possession of Sandusky brought Detroit nearer its supports;
possession of the banks of the Ohio strengthened Indiana. A bridle-path
to New Orleans was the first step toward bringing that foreign
dependence within reach; and although this path must necessarily
pass through Spanish territory, it would enable the government in an
emergency to hear from Louisiana within six weeks from the despatch of
an order.

In spite of these immense gains, the military situation was still
extremely weak. The Indians held in strong force the country west
of Sandusky. The boundary between them and the whites was a mere
line running from Lake Erie south and west across Ohio, Indiana, and
Illinois to the neighborhood of St. Louis. Directly on this boundary
line, near Greenville, lived the Shawanese, among whom a warrior
named Tecumthe, and his brother called the Prophet were acquiring an
influence hostile to the white men. These Indians, jealous of the
rapid American encroachments, maintained relations with the British
officials in Canada, and in case of a war between the United States
and England they were likely to enter into a British alliance. In
this case unless the United States government could control Lake
Erie, nothing was more certain than that Detroit and every other post
on the Lakes beyond must fall into British hands, and with them the
military possession of the whole Northwest. Whether Great Britain could
afterward be forced to surrender her conquests remained to be seen.

Even in Kentucky the country between the Tennessee River and the
Mississippi still belonged to the Chickasaws; and south of the
Tennessee River as far as the Gulf of Mexico, and east to the Ocmulgee,
all belonged to Cherokees, Creeks, and Choctaws, who could not boast,
like the Chickasaws, that “they had never spilt the blood of a white
man.” These tribes maintained friendly relations with the Spanish
authorities at Mobile and Pensacola, and, like the Shawanese and
Northwestern Indians, dreaded the grasping Americans, who were driving
them westward. In case of war with Spain, should New Orleans give
trouble and invite a Spanish garrison, the Indians might be counted
as Spaniards, and the United States government might be required to
protect a frontier suddenly thrust back from the Floridas to the Duck
River, within thirty miles of Nashville.

The President might well see with relief every new step that brought
him within nearer reach of his remote military posts and his
proconsular province at New Orleans. That he should dread war was
natural, for he was responsible for the safety of the settlements on
the Indian frontier, and he knew that in case of sudden war the capture
of these posts was certain, and the massacre of their occupants more
than probable. New Orleans was an immediate and incessant danger, and
hardly a spot between New Orleans and Mackinaw was safe.

Anxiety caused by these perils had probably much to do with the bent of
the President’s mind toward internal improvements and democratic rather
than Virginia principles. In 1803 the United States government became
owner of a territory which dwarfed the States themselves, and which
at its most important point contained a foreign population governed
by military methods. Old political theories had been thrown aside
both in the purchase and in the organization of this New World; their
observance in its administration was impossible. The Louisiana purchase
not only required a military system of government for itself, but also
reacted on the other national territory, and through it on the States
in their relations to Washington. New England was thrown to the verge
of the political system; but New York and Pennsylvania, Georgia and
Tennessee, Ohio and Kentucky found many new interests which they wanted
the central government to assist, and Virginia, holding the power and
patronage of the central government, had every inducement to satisfy
these demands.

So it happened that Jefferson gave up his Virginia dogmas, and adopted
Gallatin’s ideas. They were both jealous of the army and navy; but they
were willing to spend money with comparative liberality on internal
improvements; and the wisdom of this course was evident. Even in a
military point of view, roads and canals were more necessary than forts
or ships.

The first evidence of change was the proposed fund for internal
improvements and war purposes described in the second Inaugural
Address. The suggestion was intended to prepare the public for a
relaxation of Gallatin’s economy. Although the entire debt could not be
paid before 1817, only ten and a half millions of bonds remained to be
immediately dealt with. By the year 1809 these ten and a half millions
would be discharged; and thereafter Gallatin might reduce his annual
payments of principal and interest from $8,000,000 to $4,500.000,
freeing an annual sum of $3,500,000 for use in other directions. During
the next three years Gallatin was anxious to maintain his old system,
and especially to preserve peace with foreign nations; but after the
year 1808 he promised to relax his severity, and to provide three
or four millions for purposes of internal improvement and defence.
The rapid increase of revenue helped to create confidence in this
calculation, and to hasten decision as to the use of the promised
surplus. The President had already decided to convert it into a
permanent reserve fund. He looked forward to the moment when, as he
expressed it, he could “begin upon canals, roads, colleges, etc.”[9] He
no longer talked of “a wise and frugal government which shall restrain
men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free
to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall
not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned;” he rather
proposed to devote a third of the national revenues to improvements and
to regulation of industries.

This theory of statesmanship was broader than that which he had
proclaimed four years earlier. Jefferson proved the liberality
and elevation of his mind; and if he did this at some cost to his
consistency, he did only what all men had done whose minds kept pace
with the movement of their time. So far as he could see, at the
threshold of his second term, he had every reason to hope that it
would be more successful than his first. He promised to annihilate
opposition; and no serious obstacle seemed in his path. No doubt
his concessions to the spirit of nationality, in winning support
from moderate Federalists and self-interested democrats, alienated a
few State-rights Republicans, and might arouse uneasiness among old
friends; but to this Jefferson resigned himself. He parted company with
the “mere metaphysical subtleties” of John Randolph. Except in his
aversion to military measures and to formal etiquette, he stood nearly
where President Washington had stood ten years before.

The New England hierarchy might grumble, but at heart Massachusetts was
already converted. Only with the utmost difficulty, and at the cost of
avoiding every aggressive movement, could the Federalists keep control
of their State governments. John Randolph flattered himself that if
Jefferson’s personal authority were removed from the scale, Virginia
would again incline to her old principles; but he was mistaken. So
long as Virginia held power, she was certain to use it. At no time
since the Declaration of Independence had the prospects of nationality
seemed so promising as in the spring of 1805. With the stride of the
last four years as a standard for the future, no man could measure the
possible effects of the coming four years in extending the powers of
the government and developing the prosperity of the nation. Gallatin
already meditated schemes of internal improvements, which included
four great thoroughfares across the Alleghanies, while Fulton was
nearly ready with the steamboat. The Floridas could not escape the
government’s grasp. Even New England must at last yield her prejudices
to the spirit of democratic nationality.

No one could wonder if Jefferson’s head was somewhat turned by the
splendors of such a promise. Sanguine by nature, he felt that every
day made more secure the grandeur of his destiny. He could scarcely
be blamed for putting a high estimate on the value of his services,
for in all modesty he might reasonably ask what name recorded in
history would stand higher than his own for qualities of the noblest
order in statesmanship. Had he not been first to conceive and to put
in practice the theories of future democracy? Had he not succeeded in
the experiment? Had he not doubled the national domain? Was not his
government a model of republican virtues? With what offence against the
highest canons of personal merit could he be charged? What ruler of
ancient or modern times, what Trajan or Antonine, what Edward or Louis,
was more unselfish or was truer to the interests intrusted to his care?
Who had proposed to himself a loftier ideal? Among all the kings and
statesmen who swayed the power of empire, where could one be found who
had looked so far into the future, and had so boldly grappled with its
hopes?




                              CHAPTER II.


DURING the administrations of Jefferson and Madison, the
national government was in the main controlled by ideas and interests
peculiar to the region south of the Potomac, and only to be understood
from a Southern stand-point. Especially its foreign relations were
guided by motives in which the Northern people felt little sympathy.
The people of the Northern States seemed almost unwilling to know what
the people of the Southern States were thinking or doing in certain
directions, and their indifference was particularly marked in regard
to Florida. Among the varied forms of Southern ambition, none was so
constant in influence as the wish to acquire the Floridas, which at
moments decided the action of the government in matters of the utmost
interest; yet the Northern public, though complaining of Southern
favoritism, neither understood nor cared to study the subject, but
turned impatiently away whenever the Floridas were discussed, as
though this were a local detail which in no way concerned the North.
If Florida failed to interest the North, it exercised the more control
over the South, and over a government Southern in character and
purpose. Neither the politics of the Union nor the development of
events could be understood without treating Florida as a subject of
the first importance. During the summer and autumn of 1805,--a period
which John Randolph justly regarded as the turning point of Republican
administration,--Florida actually engrossed the attention of
government.

On arriving at Madrid, Jan. 2, 1805, Monroe found Charles Pinckney
waiting in no happy temper for a decision in regard to himself.
Pinckney’s recall was then determined upon, and his successor chosen.
He was anxious only to escape the last humiliation of being excluded
from the new negotiation by Monroe. From this fear he was soon
relieved. Monroe shared his views; allowed him to take part in the
conferences, and to put his name to the notes. The two ministers acted
in harmony.

Nearly a month was consumed in the necessary preliminaries. Not
until Jan. 28, 1805, were matters so far advanced that Monroe could
present his first note.[10] Following his instructions, he put forward
all the claims which had been so often discussed,--the Spanish and
French spoliations; the losses resulting from suppression of the
_entrepôt_ at New Orleans in 1802; the claim of West Florida,
and that to the Rio Bravo. With the note the two envoys enclosed the
_projet_ of a treaty,--to which could be made only the usual
objection to one-sided schemes, that it required Spain to concede
every point, and offered no equivalent worth mention. Spain was to cede
both the Floridas, and also Texas as far as the Rio Colorado, leaving
the district between the Colorado and the Rio Bravo as a border-land
not to be further settled. She was to create a commission for arranging
the spoliation and _entrepôt_ claims; and this commission should
also take cognizance of all claims that might be made by Spanish
subjects against the United States government.

To this note and _projet_ Don Pedro Cevallos quickly replied.[11]
Availing himself of an inadvertent sentence in Monroe’s opening
paragraph, to the effect that it was necessary to examine impartially
the several points at issue in each case, Cevallos informed the
Americans that in accordance with their wish he would first examine
each point separately, and then proceed to negotiation. He proposed to
begin with the claims convention of August, 1802.

Commonly nothing gratified American diplomatists more than to discuss
questions which they were ordered to take in charge. Yet the readiness
shown by Cevallos to gratify this instinct struck Monroe as a bad sign;
he saw danger of lowering the national tone, and even of becoming
ridiculous, if he allowed the Spaniards to discuss indefinitely claims
which the United States had again and again asserted to be too plain
for discussion. He felt too the influence of Pinckney, who had never
ceased to urge that nothing could be done with the Spanish government
except through fear or force. He could not refuse discussion, but he
entered into it with the intention of promptly cutting it short.[12]

To cut the discussion short was precisely what Cevallos meant should
not be done; and a contest began, in which the Spaniard had every
advantage. Monroe replied to the Spanish note of January 31 by imposing
an ultimatum at once.[13] “We consider it our duty to inform your
Excellency that we cannot consent to any arrangement which does not
provide for the whole subject” of the claims, including the French
spoliations. “It is in his Majesty’s power, by the answer which you
give, to fix at once the relations which are to subsist in future
between the two nations.” Cevallos, leaving the ultimatum and the
French spoliations unnoticed, rejoined by discussing the conditions
which the King had placed on his consent to ratify the claims
convention of 1802.[14] Taking up first the Mobile Act, he expressed in
strong terms his opinion of it, and of the explanation given to it by
the President. Nevertheless, he withdrew his demand that the Act should
be annulled. The King’s “well-founded motives of complaint in respect
to that Act still exist,” he said, “and his Majesty intends to keep
them in mind, that satisfaction may be given by the United States; but
as it relates to ratifying the convention of August, 1802, his Majesty
agrees from this time to be satisfied in this respect.” The question of
French spoliations he reserved for separate discussion.

Monroe replied briefly by referring to his ultimatum, and by inviting
discussion of the boundary question; but Cevallos, instead of taking
up the matter of boundaries in his next note, discussed the French
spoliation claims and the right of deposit at New Orleans.[15] To rebut
the first, he produced a letter from Talleyrand dated July 27, 1804, in
which Napoleon announced that neither Spain nor the United States must
touch these claims, under penalty of incurring the Emperor’s severe
displeasure. In regard to the right of deposit, Cevallos took still
stronger ground:--

   “The edict of the Intendant of New Orleans, suspending the
   deposit of American produce in that city, did not interrupt,
   nor was it the intention to interrupt, the navigation of the
   Mississippi; consequently these pretended injuries are reduced
   to this small point,--that for a short time the vessels loaded
   in the stream instead of taking in their cargoes at the
   wharves.... If the erroneous opinions which were formed in the
   United States, if the complaints published in the papers of your
   country,--as false as they were repeated,--that the navigation
   of the Mississippi was interrupted, if the virulent writings by
   which the public mind was heated, and which led to compromit
   the American government and tarnish the good name of that of
   Spain, were causes that the inhabitants of the western territory
   of the United States could not form a correct idea of what
   passed at New Orleans; and if, in this uncertainty, they were
   disappointed in the extraction of their produce, or suffered
   other inconveniences,--they ought to attribute the same to
   internal causes, such as the writings before mentioned, filled
   with inflammatory falsehoods, the violence of enthusiastic
   partisans, and other occurrences which on those occasions served
   to conceal the truth. The Government of Spain, so far from being
   responsible for the prejudices occasioned by these errors and
   erroneous ideas, ought in justice to complain of the irregular
   conduct pursued by various writers and other individuals in
   the United States, which was adapted to exasperate and mislead
   the public opinion, and went to divulge sentiments the most
   ignominious, and absurdities the most false, against the
   government of his Majesty and his accredited good faith.”

Not satisfied with this rebuttal, Cevallos added that the persons who
complained of this trifling inconvenience “had been enjoying the rights
of deposit for four years more than was stipulated in the treaty, and
this notwithstanding the great prejudice it occasioned to his Majesty’s
revenue, by making New Orleans the centre of a most scandalous
contraband trade, the profits of which it is not improbable but that
some of those individuals have in part received.” Finally, he affirmed
the Intendants right to prohibit the deposit.

On receiving this paper, Monroe hesitated whether to break off the
negotiation; but quickly came to the decision not to do so. His
instructions expressly authorized him to abandon the _entrepôt_
claims; while a rupture founded on the French spoliations, in the face
of Talleyrand’s threats, was rupture with France as well as with Spain,
and exceeded his authority. He concluded to go on, although he saw that
every new step involved new dangers.

Before Monroe had prepared a reply to the sharp letter on the claims
convention, Cevallos wrote again.[16] In this letter, dated February
24, he discussed the West Florida boundary, and contented himself
with stating the Spanish case as it stood on the treaties and public
evidence. His argument contained no new points, but was evidently
intended to lure the Americans into endless discussion. Monroe was
obliged to follow where Cevallos led. February 26 he replied to the
Spanish note on the claims. Beginning with complaints that Cevallos had
not met with directness the American proposals; branching into other
complaints that he had renewed propositions which Monroe had already
declared incompatible with the rights of the United States; that he
had charged the American government with trying to obtain double
payment for the same loss, and had branded the whole American people
as being in league with smugglers; that he had attacked the freedom
of the press, and had called the right of deposit a charity of King
Charles,--after adding that “it was impossible for us to have received
a note which could have been more unexpected,” the two American envoys
began to discuss the French spoliation claims, “on the presumption that
no premeditated outrage was intended.”[17]

After a long argument on the French spoliations, Monroe’s note next
reached the most delicate point in discussion,--the positive order
of Napoleon forbidding recognition of the claims. Treating the order
as though it were only an expression of opinions, Monroe said, “We
have received them with the consideration which is due to the very
respectable authority from which they emanate. On all treaties
between independent Powers each party has a right to form its own
opinion. Every nation is the guardian of its own honor and rights;
and the Emperor is too sensible of what is due to his own glory, and
entertains too high a respect for the United States, to wish them to
abandon a just sense of what is due to their own.” Appealing finally
to the positive orders of his own government, Monroe repeated that
on these claims he must insist. Cevallos replied with a disavowal of
“premeditated outrage;” and there, March 1, 1805, after Monroe had
passed two months in Spain, he found himself at his starting-point, at
a loss how to go forward or to recede.

Monroe received early in February Talleyrand’s letter of Dec. 21, 1804,
on the boundary of West Florida;[18] he next suffered the mortification
of listening to Talleyrand’s order of July 27, 1804, forbidding Spain
to “condescend” to pay or even to discuss the French spoliation claims;
and from these documents he saw that for nearly a year past the French
and Spanish governments had combined to entrap and humiliate him.
The fault was his own, for he had received plain, not to say rude,
warning; but he was perhaps only the more angry on that account, and
in his irritation he undertook to terrify Napoleon. March 1, 1805,
under the full consciousness of his situation, he wrote to Armstrong at
Paris;[19]--

   “It cannot be doubted that if our Government could be prevailed
   on to give ground, that of France would be very glad of it, as
   it would be to take us and all our concerns, especially our
   funds, under its care. We are inclined to believe, with almost
   equal confidence, if we are firm, and show that we are not only
   able but resolved to take care of ourselves, that she will let
   us do so, and in regard to this question with Spain throw her
   weight into our scale to promote an adjustment between us on
   the fair principles insisted on by our Government. To bring her
   to this, she must clearly understand that the negotiation is
   about to break up without doing anything, and that the failure
   is entirely owing to the part she has taken against us. When
   she sees that this is the literal fact, I do not think that her
   government will expose itself to the consequences resulting from
   it. It is not prepared to quarrel with us for many reasons:
   first, as we are a republic, and that system of government too
   recently overset there, and the one established in its stead too
   feebly founded, to make it a desirable object with the Emperor;
   second, as she relies altogether for supplies on our flag, and
   on our merchants and people for many other friendly offices in
   the way of trade, which none others can render; third, as our
   government pursues, by prohibiting our trade with St. Domingo,
   and in many other respects, a system of the most friendly
   accommodation to the interests of France, she ought not to
   hazard those advantages if there were no other objections to a
   rupture with us; fourth,--but there are other and much stronger
   objections to it,--we should come to a good understanding with
   England.... These considerations incline us to think that a
   rupture with us is an event which of all others she least seeks
   at the present time; and that it is only necessary to let her
   see distinctly that one with Spain is on the point of taking
   place, and will be owing altogether to her support of her
   pretensions, to induce France to change her policy and tone in
   the points depending here.”

Pursuing this train of reasoning, Monroe tested its correctness by
challenging a direct issue of courage. His letter, thus inspired,
reached Paris in due time, and its ideas were pressed by Armstrong on
members of the French government. Their answer was prompt and final;
it was instantly reported by Armstrong to Monroe in a letter[20] so
pregnant with meaning that two of its sentences may be said to have
decided the fate of Jefferson’s second administration:--

   “On the subject of indemnity for the suspended right of
   deposit (professing to know nothing of the ground on which the
   interruption had been given) they would offer no opinion. On
   that of reparation for spoliations committed on our commerce by
   Frenchmen within the territory of his Catholic Majesty, they
   were equally prompt and decisive, declaring that our claim,
   having nothing of solidity in it, must be abandoned.

   “With regard to boundary, we have, they said, already given an
   opinion, and see no cause to change it. To the question, What
   would be the course of this government in the event of a rupture
   between us and Spain? they answered, We can neither doubt nor
   hesitate,--we must take part with Spain; and our note of the
   30th Frimaire [Dec. 21, 1804] was intended to communicate and
   impress this idea.”

This stern message left Monroe helpless. To escape from Madrid
without suffering some personal mortification was his best hope; and
fortunately Godoy took no pleasure in personalities. The Spaniard was
willing to let Monroe escape as soon as his defeat should be fairly
recorded. The month of March had nearly passed before Monroe received
Armstrong’s letter; meanwhile Cevallos consumed the time in discussing
the West Florida boundary. At the end of the month Monroe, fully aware
at last of his situation, attempted to force an issue. March 30 he
wrote to Cevallos that he was weary of delay:[21]

   “It neither comports with the object of the present mission
   nor its duties to continue the negotiation longer than it
   furnishes a well-founded expectation that the just and friendly
   policy which produced it, on the part of the United States, is
   cherished with the same views by his Catholic Majesty.”

Unfortunately he had no excuse for breaking abruptly a negotiation
which he had himself invited; and Cevallos meant to give him at that
stage no such excuse, for the important question of the Texan boundary
remained to be discussed, and Talleyrand’s instructions on that point
must be placed on record by Spain.

Monroe wrote to Cevallos, April 9, that he considered “the negotiation
as essentially terminated by what has already occurred.[22]... Should
his Majesty’s government think proper to invite another issue, on it
will the responsibility rest for the consequences. The United States
are not unprepared for, or unequal to, any crisis which may occur.”
Three days later he repeated the wish to “withdraw from a situation
which, while it compromits the character of our government, cannot be
agreeable to ourselves.”[23] Cevallos took no notice of the threats,
and contented himself with repelling the idea that the blame of
breaking off the negotiation should rest upon him. Nevertheless he
hastened to record the opinion of his Government in regard to the last
claim of the United States,--the Texan boundary.

Here again Cevallos followed the guidance of Talleyrand. The
dividing-line between Louisiana and Texas, he said, ought to be decided
by the line between the French and Spanish settlements. The French post
of Natchitoches, on the Red River, was distant seven leagues from the
Spanish post of Nuestra Señora de los Adaes; and therefore the boundary
of Louisiana should run between these two points southward, along the
watershed, until it reached the Gulf of Mexico between the Marmentou
and the Calcasieu,--a boundary which deprived the United States not
only of Texas, but of an important territory afterward included in the
State of Louisiana.[24]

Eager as Monroe was to close the negotiation, he could not leave
this note without reply; and accordingly he consumed another week in
preparing more complaints of Cevallos’ dilatory conduct, and in proving
that Texas was included in the grant made by Louis XIV. to Anthony
Crozat in 1712. After disposing of that subject, he again begged
for a conclusion. “As every point has been thus fully discussed, we
flatter ourselves that we shall now be honored with your Excellency’s
propositions for the arrangement of the whole business.”[25] He
flattered himself in vain; ten days passed without an answer. May 1,
at a private interview, he tried to obtain some promise of action,
without better result than the usual obliging Spanish expressions; a
week afterward he made another attempt, with the same reply, followed
on Monroe’s part by an offer to concede even the point of dignity.
“Would Señor Cevallos listen to a new and more advantageous offer on
the part of the United States?” Cevallos replied that such a step would
be premature, as the discussion was not yet ended.[26] Monroe had no
choice but to break through the diplomatic net in which he had wound
himself; and at length, May 12, 1805, he sent a general ultimatum to
the Spanish government: If Spain would cede the Floridas, ratify the
claims convention of August, 1802, and accept the Colorado as the
Texan boundary, the United States would establish a neutral territory
a hundred miles wide on the eastern bank of the Colorado, from the
Gulf to the northern boundary of Louisiana; would assume the French
spoliation claims, abandon the _entrepôt_ claims, and accept the
cession of West Florida from the King, thereby abandoning the claim
that it was a part of Louisiana.[27]

To this note Cevallos replied three days afterward by a courteous but
decided letter, objecting in various respects to Monroe’s offers, and
summing up his objections in the comment that this scheme required
Spain to concede everything and receive nothing; she must give up both
the Floridas, half of Texas, and the claims convention, while she
obtained as an equivalent for these concessions only an abandonment of
claims which she did not acknowledge:[28]--

   “The justice of the American government will not permit it to
   insist on propositions so totally to the disadvantage of Spain;
   and however anxious his Majesty may be to please the United
   States, he cannot on his part assent to them, nor can he do less
   than consider them as little conformable to the rights of his
   Crown.”

Three days later Monroe demanded his passports. For once, Cevallos
showed as much promptness as Monroe could have desired. Without
expressing a regret, or showing so much as a complimentary wish to
continue the negotiation, Cevallos sent the passports, appointed the
very next day for Monroe’s audience of leave, and bowed the American
envoy out of Spain with an alacrity which contrasted strongly with the
delays that had hitherto wasted five months of time most precious to
the American minister at the Court of St. James. In truth, the Prince
of Peace had no longer an object to gain by detaining Monroe; he had
won every advantage which could be wrung from the situation, except
that of proving the defeat of the United States by publishing it to the
world. For this, he could trust Monroe.

After writing an angry letter to the French ambassador at Madrid,
Monroe went his way, May 26, leaving Pinckney to maintain the forms of
diplomatic relations with the Spanish government. Pinckney had still
more to suffer before escaping from the scene of his diplomatic trials.
The Spaniards began to plunder American commerce; the spoliations
of 1798 were renewed; the garrisons in West Florida and Texas were
reinforced; Cevallos paid no attention to complaints or threats. In
October Pinckney took leave and returned to America, and George W.
Erving was sent from London to take charge of the legation at Madrid.
Erving made an excellent representative within the narrow field of
action open to him as a mere _chargé d’affaires_; but he could
do little to stem the current of Spanish desperation. The Prince of
Peace, driven by France, England, and America nearer and nearer to
the precipice that yawned for the destruction of Spain, was willing
to see the world embroiled, in the hope of finding some last chance
in his favor. When Erving in December, five months after Monroe’s
departure, went to remonstrate against seizures of American ships in
flagrant violation of the treaty of 1795, Godoy received him with the
good-natured courtesy which marked his manners. “How go our affairs?”
he asked; “are we to have peace or war?” Erving called his attention to
the late seizures. The Prince replied that it was impossible for Spain
to allow American vessels to carry English property. “But we have a
treaty which secures us that right,” replied Erving. “Certainly, I know
you have a treaty, for I made it with Mr. Pinckney,” rejoined Godoy;
and he went on with entire frankness to announce that the “free-goods”
provision of that treaty would no longer be respected. Then he
continued, with laughable coolness,--

   “You may choose either peace or war. ’Tis the same thing to
   me. I will tell you candidly, that if you will go to war this
   certainly is the moment, and you may take our possessions from
   us. I advise you to go to war now, if you think that is best for
   you; and then the peace which will be made in Europe will leave
   us two at war.”[29]

Defiance could go no further. Elsewhere the Prince openly said that
the United States had brought things to such a point as to leave Spain
indifferent to the consequences. In war the President could only seize
Florida; and Florida was the price he asked for remaining at peace.
Mexico and Cuba were beyond his reach. Meanwhile Spain not only saved
the money due for the old claims, but plundered American commerce, and
still preserved her title to the Floridas and Texas,--a title which, at
least as concerned the Floridas, the Americans must sooner or later
extinguish.

Such was the result of the President’s diplomacy in respect to
Spain. War was its only natural outcome,--war with Spain; war with
Napoleon, who must make common cause with King Charles; coalition with
England; general recurrence to the ideas and precedents of the last
Administration. Jefferson had exasperated Spain and irritated France.
He must next decide whether this policy should be pursued to its
natural result.

Meanwhile Monroe returned to Paris, where he passed six weeks with
Armstrong and with his French acquaintances in conference on the proper
course to be pursued. Talleyrand was absent in Italy with the Emperor,
who May 26 received at Milan the iron crown of the Lombard kings. That
Napoleon was the real element of danger was clear to both envoys. A
policy which should force France to interfere on behalf of the United
States was their object; and on this, as on many points, Armstrong’s
ideas were more definite than those of Monroe, Madison, or Jefferson.
Even before Monroe left Madrid, he received a letter from Armstrong in
which the outline of a decisive plan was sketched:--

   “It is simply to take a strong and prompt possession of the
   northern bank of the Rio Bravo, leaving the eastern limit _in
   statu quo_. A stroke of this kind would at once bring Spain
   to reason, and France to her rescue, and without giving either
   room to quarrel. You might then negotiate, and shape the
   bargain pretty much as you pleased.”[30]

Evidently the seizure of Texas, leaving West Florida untouched, was the
only step which the President could properly take; for Texas had been
bought and paid for, whereas West Florida beyond doubt had never been
bought at all. Armstrong saw the weak point of Napoleon’s position,
and wished to attack it. He had no trouble in bringing Monroe to the
same conclusion, although in yielding to his arguments Monroe tacitly
abandoned the ground he had been persuaded by Livingston to take two
years before, that West Florida belonged to Louisiana.

   “There is no shade of difference in our opinions,” wrote
   Armstrong to Madison after Monroe’s arrival at Paris,[31] “and
   so little in the course to be pursued with regard to Spain that
   it is scarcely worth noticing. The whole may be reduced to this:
   that instead of assailing the Spanish posts in West Florida, or
   even indicating an intention to do so, I would (from motives
   growing more particularly out of the character of the Emperor)
   restrict the operations to such as may have been established
   in Louisiana. This, with some degree of demonstration that we
   meditate an embargo on our commercial intercourse with Spain and
   her colonies, would compel this government to interpose promptly
   and efficiently, and with dispositions to prevent the quarrel
   from going further.”

Throughout these Spanish negotiations ran a mysterious note of
corruption which probably came not from Cevallos, Godoy, or King
Charles; for Spain was always the party to suffer, and France was
always the party to profit by Spanish sacrifices. That the jobbery had
its origin in Napoleon was improbable, for he too suffered from it.
Neither Napoleon nor Godoy was open to bribery in such a sense; they
were so high in power that small pecuniary motives had no influence
on their acts. Yet the Treasuries both of France and Spain were in
trouble, and were seeking resources. That Talleyrand had private
motives for conniving in their expedients cannot be proved; but in
1805, as in 1798, every attempt to turn negotiation into a job came
from Talleyrand’s intimate circle, the subordinates of the French
Foreign Office.[32] In June, Monroe found at Paris the same hints at
the influence of money which had irritated him in the preceding autumn;
and he wrote to Madison in a tone which showed that he gave them weight.

   “I have conferred much,” he said,[33] “with the gentleman
   alluded to in my letter from Bordeaux of December 16, and from
   what I can gather am led to believe that France has withheld her
   opinion on the western limits [Texas], to favor our pretensions
   when she thinks proper to take a part in it; that she does not
   think it proper so to do in the present stage, or until our
   Government acts so as to make Spain apply to her. He thinks
   she will then act; and settling the Spanish spoliation business
   as by the treaty of 1802, and getting all that can be got for
   Florida (he says eight millions of dollars are expected),
   promote an adjustment.”

If Jefferson’s administration cared to commit an error of colossal
proportions, it had but to follow the hints of these irresponsible
agents of Marbois and Talleyrand, who presumed to say in advance what
motives would decide the mind of Napoleon. No man in France--neither
Talleyrand nor Berthier, nor even Duroc--knew the scope of the
Emperor’s ambition, or could foretell the expedients he would use or
reject. Monroe’s friend was ill-informed, or deceived him. France had
not withheld her opinion on the western limits; on the contrary, her
opinion had been exactly followed by Spain. Not Talleyrand, much less
Napoleon, but Cevallos himself had withheld that opinion from Monroe’s
knowledge, doubtless because he wished to keep a weapon in reserve for
use at close quarters if his antagonist should come so near. Had Monroe
not been discomfited before Cevallos exhausted his arsenal, this weapon
would certainly have been used for a final blow. Cevallos still held it
in reserve.

Leaving the Spanish affair embroiled beyond disentanglement, Monroe
recrossed the Channel, and July 23 found himself again in London.
During a century of American diplomatic history a minister of the
United States has seldom if ever within six months suffered, at
two great Courts, such contemptuous treatment as had then fallen to
Monroe’s lot. That he should have been mortified and anxious for escape
was natural. He returned to England, meaning to sail as quickly as
possible for America. “It was very much my wish,” he wrote.[34] Hoping
to sail at latest by November 1, he selected his ship, and gave notice
to the British Foreign Office. In his own interests no step could have
been wiser, but it was taken too late; the time lost in Spain and at
Paris had been fatal to his plan, and he could no longer avoid another
defeat more serious, and even more public, than the two which had
already disturbed his temper.

That the American minister in London at any time should for six months
leave his post, even in obedience to instructions, was surprising; but
that he should have done this in 1804, after Pitt’s return to power,
was matter of amazement. Monroe expected an unfriendly change of
policy in the British government. As early as June, 1804, he wrote to
Madison: “My most earnest advice is to look to the possibility of such
a change.”[35] Four months later, although the attitude of the British
ministry had become more threatening, Monroe started for Madrid,
leaving Pitt in peace, unwatched, to take his measures and to fix
beyond recall his change of policy. July 23, 1805, when the American
minister at last returned from his Spanish journey and arrived in
London, after some weeks lost at Paris, he found a state of affairs
such as might have alarmed the most phlegmatic of men.

Pitt had made good use of Monroe’s absence. During the winter of
1804–1805 Parliament passed several Acts tending to draw all the
West Indian commerce into British hands. Throughout the West Indies
free ports were thrown open to the enemy’s vessels, which were
encouraged to bring there the produce of their colonies, receiving
British merchandise in return, while the Act further provided for the
importation of this enemy’s produce into Great Britain in British
ships. Other Acts and Orders extended the system of licenses, by which
British subjects were allowed to trade with their enemies in neutral
vessels, and concluded by requiring that all their trade with the
French islands should be carried on through the free ports alone.[36]

These measures were intended to force the trade of the French and
Spanish colonies into a British channel; but all were secondary to
a direct attack on American commerce. While Parliament and Council
devised the legislation and rules necessary for taking charge of the
commerce of Cuba, Martinique, and the other hostile colonies, the Lords
of Appeals were engaged in providing the law necessary for depriving
America of the same trade. July 23, 1805, Sir William Scott pronounced
judgment in the case of the “Essex.” Setting aside his ruling in the
case of the “Polly,”[37] he held that the neutral cargo which came from
Martinique to Charleston, and thence to London, was good prize unless
the neutral owner could prove, by something more than the evidence of a
custom-house entry, that his original intention had been to terminate
the voyage in an American port. In consequence of this decision, within
a few weeks American ships by scores were seized without warning;
neutral insurance was doubled; and the British merchantmen vied with
the royal navy in applauding the energy of William Pitt.

Of the decision as a matter of morality something might be said.
That Pitt should have planned such a scheme was not surprising, for
his moral sense had been blunted by the desperation of his political
struggle; but the same excuse did not apply to Sir William Scott. The
quarrel between law and history is old, and its source lies deep.
Perhaps no good historian was ever a good lawyer: whether any good
lawyer could be a good historian might be equally doubted. The lawyer
is required to give facts the mould of a theory; the historian need
only state facts in their sequence. In law Sir William Scott was
considered as one of the greatest judges that ever sat on the English
bench, a man of the highest personal honor, sensitive to any imputation
on his judicial independence,--a lawyer in whom the whole profession
took pride. In history he made himself and his court a secret
instrument for carrying out an act of piracy. The law defends him by
throwing responsibility upon the political chiefs who were bound to
make compensation to the plundered merchants if compensation was due.
The judge’s duty began and ended by declaring what was law. Experience
had proved that the evidence previously required to convince the court
of a certain fact was insufficient. The judge said this, and no more.
History replies that whatever may be the strictly professional aspect
of this famous judgment, in its nature it was a political act, and was
known by the judge to be such. As a political measure its character
was equivalent to a declaration of war, and did not materially differ
from the more violent seizure of the Spanish treasure-ships by Pitt’s
order in the previous October. The lawyers justified that seizure also;
the King’s Advocate defended it in the House of Commons by the simple
explanation that England was not in the habit of declaring war, but
usually began hostilities by some act of force.[38] Lord Grenville,
whom Pitt had entreated, only a few months before, to join the new
ministry, and who was certainly considered as, next to Pitt himself,
the highest political authority in England, was not deterred by this
reasoning from denouncing the seizure of the Spanish galleons as an
atrocious act of barbarity, contrary to all the law of nations, which
stamped indelible infamy on the English name. Lord Grey, another high
authority, stigmatized it as combining violence, injustice, and bad
faith. The seizure of the American ships was an act different in its
nature only in so far as Sir William Scott condescended to throw over
it in advance the ermine that he wore.

Monroe reached London on the very day when Sir William Scott pronounced
his fatal decision in the case of the “Essex.” Lord Harrowby no longer
presided over the Foreign Office; he had taken another position,
making way for Lord Mulgrave. The new Foreign Secretary was, like most
of Pitt’s ministers in 1805, a Tory gentleman of moderate abilities.
Except as a friend of Pitt he was unknown. His character and opinions
seemed wholly without importance. To Lord Mulgrave, Monroe addressed
himself; and he found the Foreign Secretary as ready to discuss, and as
slow to concede, as Don Pedro Cevallos had ever been.[39] “He assured
me in the most explicit terms that nothing was more remote from the
views of his Government than to take an unfriendly attitude toward the
United States; he assured me also that no new orders had been issued,
and that his Government was disposed to do everything in its power to
arrange this and the other points to our satisfaction.” Yet when Monroe
called his attention to the seizure of a score of American vessels in
the Channel, by British naval officers who declared themselves to be
acting by order, Lord Mulgrave quietly replied that the Rule of 1756
was good law, and that his Government did not mean to relax in the
slightest degree from the rigor of Sir William Scott’s decision.[40]

Monroe had felt the indifference or contempt of Lord Harrowby,
Talleyrand, and Cevallos: that of Lord Mulgrave was but one more
variety of a wide experience. The rough treatment of Monroe by the
Englishman was a repetition of that which he had accepted or challenged
at the hands of the Frenchman and Spaniard. Lord Mulgrave showed no
wish to trouble himself in any way about the United States. He would
not discuss the questions of impressment and commerce; and his only
sign of caring to explain or excuse the measures of his Government
was in regard to Captain Bradley of the “Cambrian,” who had been
recalled from the American station for violations of neutrality. Monroe
complained that Bradley had since been given a ship of the line.
Mulgrave explained that the command of a line-of-battle ship was not
necessarily a promotion, especially to an active officer accustomed to
the independence and prize-money of the “Cambrian’s” cruising ground.

With this result Monroe’s diplomatic activity for the year 1804–1805
came to an end. The only conclusion he drew from it was one which
Jefferson seemed little likely to adopt. He urged his Government to
persevere in its course, and to threaten war upon France, Spain, and
England at once.[41] “We probably shall never be able to settle our
concerns with either Power without pushing our just claims on each with
the greatest decision.... I am strong in the opinion that a pressure on
each at the same time would produce a good effect with the other.”

Nevertheless, Monroe had not yet reached the bottom of his English
disaster. Neither the Acts of Parliament, the Orders in Council, nor
the Judgment of the Lords of Appeal satisfied the suffering interests
of England, however harsh they might seem to the interests of America.
The new rules, the extension of licenses, the opening of free ports,
tended to please the navy and shipping interests, but left the British
colonists in a worse position than before; for as matters stood the
whole produce of the West Indian Islands, French, Spanish, and British,
was to be collected in a single mass and thrown on the London market.
The warehouses on the Thames were to be overfilled with sugar, on the
chance that neutral ships might convey it to France. For five years
the colonists had insisted that their distress was due to excess
in production; but how could they check production when the French
and Spanish islands were encouraged to produce? Forgetting in their
despair the attachment they felt to America, the colonists attributed
all their troubles to American competition. The East India Company,
whose warehouses were also loaded with unsalable goods, could discover
no better reason than the same neutral rivalry for the cessation of
Continental demand. The shipowners, not yet satisfied by Sir William
Scott’s law, echoed the same cry. All the interested classes of
England, except the manufacturers and merchants who were concerned in
commerce with the United States, agreed in calling upon government to
crush out the neutral trade. Sir William Scott had merely required an
additional proof of its honesty; England with one voice demanded that,
honest or not, it should be stopped.

This almost universal prayer found expression in a famous pamphlet that
has rarely had an equal for ability and effect. In October, 1805, three
months after the “Essex” decision, while Monroe was advising Madison to
press harder than ever on all the great belligerent Powers, appeared
in London a book of more than two hundred pages, with the title: “War
in Disguise; or, the Frauds of the Neutral Flags.” The author was
James Stephen, a man not less remarkable for his own qualities than
for those which two generations of descendants have inherited from
him; but these abilities, though elevating him immensely above the
herd of writers who in England bespattered America with abuse, and in
America befouled England, were yet of a character so peculiar as to bar
his path to the highest distinction. James Stephen was a high-minded
fanatic, passionately convinced of the truths he proclaimed. Two
years after writing “War in Disguise,” he published another pamphlet,
maintaining that the Napoleonic wars were a divine chastisement of
England for her tolerance of the slave-trade; and this curious thesis
he argued through twenty pages of close reasoning.[42] Through life a
vehement enemy of slavery, at a time when England rang with abuse of
America, which he had done much to stimulate, he had the honesty and
courage to hold America up as an example before Europe, and to assert
that in abolishing the slave-trade she had done an act for which it was
impossible to refuse her the esteem of England, and in consequence of
which he prayed that harmony between the two countries might be settled
on the firmest foundation.

This insular and honest dogmatism, characteristic of many robust minds,
Stephen carried into the question of neutral trade. He had himself
begun his career in the West Indies, and in the prize-court at St.
Kitt’s had learned the secrets of neutral commerce. Deeply impressed
with the injury which this trade caused to England, he believed himself
bound to point out the evil and the remedy to the British public.
Assuming at the outset that the Rule of 1756 was a settled principle
of law, he next assumed that the greater part of the neutral trade was
not neutral at all, but was a fraudulent business, in which French or
Spanish property, carried in French or Spanish ships, was by means of
systematic perjury protected by the prostituted American flag.

How much of this charge was true will never be certainly known. Stephen
could not prove his assertions. The American merchants stoutly denied
them. Alexander Baring, better informed than Stephen and far less
prejudiced, affirmed that the charge was untrue, and that if the facts
could be learned, more British than enemy’s property would be found
afloat under the American flag. Perhaps this assertion was the more
annoying of the two; but to prove either the one or the other was
needless, since from such premises Stephen was able to draw a number of
startling conclusions which an English public stood ready to accept.
The most serious of these was the certain ruin of England from the
seduction of her seamen into this fraudulent service; another was the
inevitable decay of her merchant marine; still another pointed to the
loss of the Continental market; and he heightened the effect of all
these evils by adding a picture of the British admiral in the decline
of life raised to the peerage for his illustrious actions, and enjoying
a pension from the national bounty, but still unable to spend so much
money as became an English peer, because his Government had denied to
him the “safe booty” of the neutral trade![43] Humor was not Stephen’s
strongest quality, or he never would have caricatured the British mind
so coarsely; but coarse as the drawing might be, England was not
conscious of the caricature. Cobbett alone could have done justice to
the pecuniary sanctity of the British peerage; but on this point humor
was lost to the world, for Cobbett and Stephen were in accord.

Thus a conviction was established in England that the American
trade was a fraud which must soon bring Great Britain to ruin, and
that the Americans who carried on this commerce were carrying on a
“war in disguise” for the purpose of rescuing France and Spain from
the pressure of the British navy. The conclusion was inevitable.
“Enforce the Rule of 1756!” cried Stephen; “cut off the neutral trade
altogether!” This policy, which went far beyond the measures of Pitt
and the decision of Sir William Scott, was urged by Stephen with great
force; while he begged the Americans, in temperate and reasonable
language, not to make war for the protection of so gross a fraud.
Other writers used no such self-restraint. The austere and almost
religious conviction of Stephen could maintain itself at a height where
no personal animosity toward America mingled its bitterness with his
denunciations; but his followers, less accustomed than he to looking
for motives in their Bibles, said simply that the moment for going to
war with the United States had come, and that the opportunity should be
seized.[44]




                             CHAPTER III.


THE Eighth Congress had hardly expired, March 3, 1805, amid
the confusion and ill-temper which followed the failure of impeachment,
when President Jefferson and Secretary Madison began to hear the first
mutterings of European disaster. Talleyrand’s letter to Armstrong,
Dec. 21, 1804, arrived with its blunt announcement that Napoleon meant
to oppose every step of Monroe’s negotiation at Madrid, and with its
declaration that West Florida had not been included in the retrocession
of Louisiana to France, but had been refused to France by King Charles.
Jefferson was then at Monticello, and thither the documents from Paris
followed him. He wrote to Madison that Monroe’s case was desperate.

   “I consider,” said the President,[45] “that we may anticipate
   the effect of his mission. On its failure as to the main object,
   I wish he may settle the right of navigating the Mobile, as
   everything else may await further peaceable proceedings; but
   even then we shall have a difficult question to decide,--to
   wit, whether we will let the present crisis in Europe pass away
   without a settlement.”

This letter showed that as early as the month of March, 1805, the
President foresaw Monroe’s disasters, and began to speculate upon the
next step to be taken. The attempt to obtain Florida through Spanish
fears had failed; but his first impression was that everything might
go on as before, if the Spaniards would consent to a free navigation
of the Mobile. Madison was still more vague; his first impulse was
to retrace his steps. He wrote to the President a singular letter of
contradictions.

   “I cannot entirely despair,” said he, March 27,[46] “that Spain,
   notwithstanding the support given by France to her claim to
   West Florida, may yield to our proposed arrangement, partly
   from its intrinsic value to her, partly from an apprehension
   of the interference of Great Britain; and that this latter
   consideration may, as soon as France despairs of her pecuniary
   object, transfer her weight into our scale. If she [France]
   should persist in disavowing her right to sell West Florida
   to the United States, and above all can prove it to have been
   the mutual understanding with Spain that West Florida was no
   part of Louisiana, it will place our claim on very different
   ground,--such probably as would not be approved by the world,
   and such certainly as would not with that approbation be
   maintained by force. If our right be good against Spain at all,
   it must be supported by those rigid maxims of technical law
   which have little weight in national questions generally, and
   none at all when opposed to the principles of universal equity.
   The world would decide that France having sold us the territory
   of a third party, which she had no right to sell, that party
   having even remonstrated against the whole transaction, the
   right of the United States was limited to a demand on France to
   procure and convey the territory, or to remit _pro tanto_
   the price, or to dissolve the bargain altogether.”

For eighteen months every French and Spanish agent in Washington,
Paris, and Madrid had assured Madison, in language varying between
remonstrance and insult, that Spain had not ceded West Florida to
France; the records of the State Department proved that France had
asked for West Florida and had been refused; Jefferson had not ventured
to record a claim to West Florida when he received possession of
Louisiana, and had been obliged to explain, in language which Gallatin
and Randolph thought unsatisfactory, the words of the Mobile Act. In
spite of this, Madison committed himself and government to the claim
that West Florida was a part of Louisiana; he pressed that claim, not
against France, but against Spain; he brought Monroe to a rupture with
the Spanish government on that issue,--yet with these recollections
fresh in his mind, he suddenly told Jefferson that if France could
prove a matter of common notoriety, the world would decide that the
United States had acted without regard to law or equity, while in any
case the claim to West Florida as against Spain was a mistake.

That Madison should have followed a train of reasoning so singular,
was less surprising than that he should have advanced so far without
showing a sign that he was prepared for the next step. Knowing as
early as March, 1805, that his plans were defeated, and that he might
expect a repulse from Spain and France, he selected a new minister to
succeed Pinckney at Madrid. This diplomatist, whose career was to be as
futile if not as noisy as that of his predecessor from South Carolina,
was James Bowdoin of Massachusetts, son of a celebrated governor of
that State. Jefferson wrote privately to him, April 27, announcing the
appointment; and the tone of the letter implied that in the month’s
interval since the arrival of Talleyrand’s manifesto the President’s
pacific views had suffered a change.

   “Our relations with that nation are vitally interesting,” he
   wrote.[47] “That they should be of a peaceable and friendly
   character has been our most earnest desire. Had Spain met us
   with the same disposition, our idea was that her existence on
   this hemisphere and ours should have rested on the same bottom,
   should have swum or sunk together. We want nothing of hers, and
   we want no other nation to possess what is hers; but she has met
   our advances with jealousy, secret malice, and ill-faith. Our
   patience under this unworthy return of disposition is now on its
   last trial, and the issue of what is now depending between us
   will decide whether our relations with her are to be sincerely
   friendly or permanently hostile. I still wish, and would
   cherish, the former, but have ceased to expect it.”

Jefferson had the faculty, peculiar to certain temperaments, of seeing
what he wished to see, and of believing what he willed to believe.
Few other Americans could have seriously talked of the Spanish empire
in America as swimming or sinking with that of the United States; but
Jefferson, for the moment, thought that the earthen pot of Spanish
dominion could trust itself to float safely under charge of the iron
energy of American democracy. He could gravely say in regard to Spain,
“we want nothing of hers,” when for eighteen months he had exhausted
every resource, short of force, to gain Baton Rouge, Mobile, and
Pensacola, not to speak of East Florida and Texas. He charged that
Spain met his advances with jealousy, secret malice, and ill-faith,
after his ministers had intrigued with Napoleon for nearly two years,
in the constant hope of depriving her of her property. Dec. 13, 1804,
he wrote to General Heath: “With Spain we shall always be bickering,
but never at war till we seek it;”[48] and six months later he wrote
to Bowdoin that her secret malice and ill faith were leading to
permanently hostile relations. He had not much further to go; for if he
meant to maintain his authority among rulers, the war that would never
come till he sought it must be sought.

As Monroe’s overthrow became more and more evident, the President
grew uneasy, and turned restlessly from one device to another. In
the first days of August Monroe’s despatches arrived, announcing
that he had left Madrid, and that all his offers had been rejected by
Spain. Madison was in Philadelphia, where his wife was detained by
a long and troublesome lameness. The President was at Monticello. A
brisk interchange of letters took place, marking from day to day the
fluctuations of feeling peculiar to the characters of the two men. One
question alone was to be decided,--should they seize this moment to
break with Napoleon?

Madison’s first reflections reached no result. He shrank from admitting
that the government stood between war and humiliation more dangerous
than war.

   “The business at Madrid,” he said, August 2,[49] “has had
   an awkward termination, and if nothing, as may be expected,
   particularly in the absence of the Emperor, should alleviate
   it at Paris, involves some serious questions. After the parade
   of a mission extraordinary, a refusal of all our overtures
   in a haughty tone without any offer of other terms, and a
   perseverance in withdrawing a stipulated provision for claims
   admitted to be just, without _ex post facto_ conditions
   manifestly unreasonable and inadmissible, form a strong appeal
   to the honor and sensibility of this country.”

The conclusion drawn from this somewhat mild review was not such as
Monroe, Armstrong, or Livingston had recommended.

   “I find that, as was apprehended from the tenor of former
   communications,” continued the secretary, “the military
   _status quo_ in the controverted districts, the navigation
   of the rivers running through West Florida, and the spoliations
   subsequent to the convention of 1802 have never had a place in
   the discussions. Bowdoin may perhaps be instructed, consistently
   with what has passed, to propose a suspension of the territorial
   questions, the deposit, and the French spoliations, on condition
   that those points be yielded, with an incorporation of the
   convention of 1802 with a provision for subsequent claims. This
   is the utmost within the Executive purview. If this experiment
   should fail, the question with the Legislature must be whether
   or not resort is to be had to force, to what extent, and in what
   mode. Perhaps the instructions to Bowdoin would be improved
   by including the idea of transferring the sequel of business
   hither. This would have the appearance of an advance on the part
   of Spain, the more so as it would be attended with a new mission
   to this country, and would be most convenient for us also, if
   not made by Spain a pretext for delay.”

Madison, after enduring one “refusal of all our overtures in a haughty
tone,” suggested that another be invited. The slightly patronizing air
which characterized Jefferson’s attitude toward Madison, but which
he never betrayed toward Gallatin, was explained by this want of
directness in Madison’s nature, and by the habitual slowness of his
decisions. The action suggested by Madison threw the control of events
into the hands of France. This at least was the opinion of Jefferson,
whose mind was wrought by the news from Pinckney to a state of steadily
growing alarm.

   “I think the _status quo_, if not already proposed, should
   be immediately offered through Bowdoin,” wrote Jefferson, August
   4, before receiving Madison’s letter of August 2.[50] “Should it
   even be refused, the refusal to settle a limit is not of itself
   a sufficient cause of war, nor is the withholding a ratification
   worthy of such a redress. Yet these acts show a purpose, both
   in Spain and France, against which we ought to provide before
   the conclusion of a peace. I think, therefore, we should take
   into consideration whether we ought not immediately to propose
   to England an eventual treaty of alliance, to come into force
   whenever (within ---- years) a war shall take place with Spain
   or France.”

Three days later he wrote again, and his alarm had increased:[51]--

   “The papers now enclosed to you confirm me in the opinion of the
   expediency of a treaty with England, but make the offer of the
   _status quo_ [to Spain] more doubtful; the correspondence
   will probably throw light on that question. From the papers
   already received I infer a confident reliance on the part
   of Spain on the omnipotence of Bonaparte, but a desire of
   procrastination till peace in Europe shall leave us without an
   ally.”

Ten days more passed; the whole mortification became evident; the
President’s anger and alarm rose to feverishness.[52] He wrote to
Madison, August 17,--

   “I am anxious to receive opinions respecting our procedure with
   Spain, as should negotiations with England be advisable they
   should not be postponed a day unnecessarily, that we may lay
   their result before Congress before they rise next spring. Were
   the question only about the bounds of Louisiana, I should be
   for delay. Were it only for spoliations, just as this is as a
   cause of war, we might consider if no other expedient were more
   eligible for us. But I do not view peace as within our choice. I
   consider the cavalier conduct of Spain as evidence that France
   is to settle with us for her,--and the language of France
   confirms it,--and that if she can keep us insulated till peace,
   she means to enforce by arms her will, to which she foresees we
   will not truckle, and therefore does not venture on the mandate
   now. We should not permit ourselves to be found off our guard
   and friendless.”

The President’s plan presented difficulties which Madison could not
fail to see. That Jefferson should wish Pitt to fight the battles
of the United States was natural; but Pitt was little in the habit
of doing gratuitous favors, and might reasonably ask what price he
was to receive for conquering the Floridas and Texas for the United
States. Madison’s comments on the President’s proposed British treaty
pointed out this objection. Madison agreed that the Executive should
take provisional measures, on which Congress might act.[53] “An
eventual alliance with Great Britain, if attainable from her without
inadmissible conditions, would be for us the best of all possible
measures; but I do not see the least chance of laying her under
obligations to be called into force at our will without correspondent
obligations on our part.” Objection to the President’s plan was easy;
but when the secretary came to a plan of his own, he could suggest
nothing more vigorous than to renew a moderate degree of coquetry with
Merry, which would have the side advantage of alarming France and
Spain, “from whom the growing communication with Great Britain would
not be concealed.”

Such a weapon was no doubt as effective against Napoleon as heelless
slippers against Pitt; but the President thought the situation to have
passed beyond such tactics. Madison’s proposed coquetry with Merry met
with less favor in Jefferson’s eyes than his own proposed one-sided
alliance with England had met in the eyes of Madison. Upon a treaty of
alliance with England the President was for the moment bent, and he
met Madison’s objections by arguments that showed lively traits of the
writer’s sanguine temper. He complained that Madison had misconceived
the nature of the proposed British treaty. England should stipulate not
to make peace without securing West Florida and the spoliation claims
to America, while American co-operation in the war would be sufficient
inducement to her for making this contract.[54]

   “Another motive much more powerful would indubitably induce
   England to go much further. Whatever ill humor may at times have
   been expressed against us by individuals of that country, the
   first wish of every Englishman’s heart is to see us once more
   fighting by their sides against France; nor could the King or
   his ministers do an act so popular as to enter into an alliance
   with us. The nation would not weigh the consideration by grains
   and scruples; they would consider it as the price and pledge of
   an indissoluble friendship. I think it possible that for such
   a provisional treaty they would give us their general guaranty
   of Louisiana and the Floridas. At any rate we might try them; a
   failure would not make our situation worse. If such a one could
   be obtained, we might await our own convenience for calling up
   the _casus fœderis_. I think it important that England
   should receive an overture as early as possible, as it might
   prevent her listening to terms of peace.”

If Jefferson was right in thinking that every Englishman’s heart
yearned toward America, he was unfortunate in delaying his offer
of indissoluble friendship until the moment when Sir William Scott
delivered his opinion in the case of the “Essex.” Madison’s scheme was
equally unpromising, because he had made a personal enemy of Merry, on
whom the success of Madison’s tactics depended. Each of the two high
authorities felt the weakness of the other, and the secretary even went
so far as to hint, in courteous language, that the President’s idea was
unpractical:--

   “The more I reflect on the papers from Madrid, the more I feel
   the value of some eventual security for the active friendship
   of Great Britain, but the more I see at the same time the
   difficulty of obtaining it without a like security to her of
   ours. If she is to be _bound_, we must be _so too_,
   either to the same thing,--that is to join her in the war,--or
   to do what she will accept as equivalent to such an obligation.
   What can we offer to her? A mutual guaranty, unless so shaped
   as to involve us pretty certainly in her war, would not be
   satisfactory. To offer commercial regulations or concessions
   on points in the law of nations as a certain payment for aids
   which might never be received or required, would be a bargain
   liable to obvious objections of the most serious kind. Unless,
   therefore, some arrangement which has not occurred to me can be
   devised, I see no other course than such an one as is suggested
   in my last letter.”[55]

In this state of things, the remaining members of the Cabinet were
asked for their opinions; and in the course of a few days the President
received written papers from Gallatin and Robert Smith. Gallatin
was annoyed at the results of Jefferson’s diplomacy. Emphatically a
Northern man, he cared little for Florida; and a war with Spain would
have been in his eyes a Southern war. He made no concealment of his
opinion that the whole negotiation rested on a blunder; and he told
Madison as much, with a bluntness which the secretary could scarcely
have relished.

   “The demands from Spain were too hard,” said he,[56] “to have
   expected, even independent of French interference, any success
   from the negotiation. It could only be hoped that the tone
   assumed by our negotiators might not be such as to render a
   relinquishment or suspension of some of our claims productive
   of some loss of reputation. If we are safe on that ground, it
   may be eligible to wait for a better opportunity before we again
   run the risk of lowering the national importance by pretensions
   which our strength may not at this moment permit us to support.
   If from the manner in which the negotiation has been conducted
   that effect has already been produced, how to save character
   without endangering peace will be a serious and difficult
   question.”

These words were written before he had seen Monroe’s despatches. When
the whole correspondence was put into his hands he read it, and in
returning it to Madison made the dry comment that the business had not
ended quite so badly as he had previously supposed.[57] The phrase bore
a double meaning, for even Madison must have admitted that the business
could not have ended much worse.

Gallatin sent to the President a remarkable paper,[58] in substance
an argument for peace, and in tenor a criticism of the grounds which
Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Livingston, and Pinckney had thought
proper to take in their dispute with Spain. Gallatin held that, owing
to the “unpardonable oversight or indifference” of Livingston and
Monroe in failing to insist on a boundary to Louisiana, the United
States government was debarred from holding Spain responsible for the
inevitable consequences of its own fault. Neither Spain’s qualified
refusal to ratify the claims convention of 1802 nor her rejection of
the French spoliation claims would justify war. As a matter of abstract
justice, war was not to be defended; as a matter of policy, it could
not be recommended. The expense and loss would exceed the value of
Florida; the political result would entangle America in alliance with
England; and, “in fine, a subversion of all our hopes must be the
natural consequence.” Renewal of negotiation was the proper step, with
the Sabine and Perdido as boundaries and a temporary arrangement under
the _status quo_, acceptance of the Spanish condition precedent
to ratifying the claims convention, and insistence against the new
spoliations which French and Spanish privateers were daily making
on American commerce in the West Indies. Pending the result of this
negotiation Congress might spend some money on the militia, and might
appropriate a million dollars annually to build ships of the line.

In effect, Gallatin threw his influence on the side of Madison
against the President’s semi-warlike views. The opinion of Robert
Smith did not weaken the force of Gallatin’s reasoning. Already a
perceptible division existed in the Cabinet between the Treasury
and the Navy. Hardly three months before the Spanish embarrassment,
Gallatin had spoken to the President in strong terms of Robert Smith’s
administration, and had added,[59]--

   “On this subject,--the expense of the Navy greater than
   the object seemed to require, and a merely nominal
   accountability,--I have, for the sake of preserving perfect
   harmony in your councils, however grating to my feelings, been
   almost uniformly silent.”

Smith’s present views tended to confirm Gallatin in his irritation,
and to reconcile Jefferson to abandoning his energetic schemes. The
Secretary of the Navy said that throughout these negotiations Spain had
presumed much on American predilection for peace, and on the want of
means to annoy her either by land or by water. He urged the necessity
of working on her fears, and advised that Congress be recommended to
provide additional gunboats, to put all the frigates in commission, and
to build twelve seventy-fours. With these means he was disposed to take
a commanding attitude; and if Spain were supported by France, to make
an alliance with England.[60]

Gallatin and Robert Smith agreed only on one point,--that the affair
had been mismanaged. Both secretaries held that America had made
pretensions which she had not strength at the moment to support. Rather
than “again run the risk of lowering national importance,” Gallatin
preferred to submit to the consequent loss of reputation, and return
to a true peace-policy. Robert Smith wished to maintain a high tone,
and to arm. All Jefferson’s instincts were with Gallatin; but the path
that Gallatin proposed was hard and mortifying, and although he made it
as little abrupt as possible, he could not prevent it from seeming what
it was,--a severe humiliation to the President. Not without some inward
struggle could a President of the United States bow his neck to such a
yoke as Spain and France imposed.

At that moment, the middle of September, arrived Armstrong’s
letter advising the military occupation of Texas and a cessation
of intercourse with Spain. His plan was the first well-considered
suggestion yet made for carrying out the policy hitherto pursued; and
although contrary to Gallatin’s advice, it agreed so well with the
President’s views that he caught at it with the relief of a man unable
to solve his own problem, who hears another explain what to himself is
inexplicable. Jefferson seized Armstrong’s idea, and uniting it with
his own, announced the result to Madison as the true solution of the
difficulty:[61]--

   “Supposing a previous alliance with England to guard us in the
   worst event, I should propose that Congress should pass acts
   (1) authorizing the Executive to suspend intercourse with Spain
   at discretion; (2) to dislodge the new establishments of Spain
   between the Mississippi and Bravo; (3) to appoint commissioners
   to examine and ascertain all claims for spoliation.”

Here at length was a plan,--uncertain, indeed, because dependent on
British help, but still a scheme of action which could be discussed.
The President appointed October 4 as the day on which the Cabinet
should reunite at Washington to consider his project, but Madison
replied that he could not return so soon; and in order that the Cabinet
should know his views, he explained at some length the course he
advised, which differed widely from that of the President.

   “With respect to Great Britain,” he said,[62] “I think we
   ought to go as far into an understanding on the subject of an
   eventual coalition in the war as will not preclude us from an
   intermediate adjustment, if attainable, with Spain. I see not,
   however, much chance that she will positively bind herself not
   to make peace, while we refuse to bind ourselves positively to
   make war,--unless, indeed, some positive advantage were yielded
   on our part in lieu of an engagement to enter into the war. No
   such advantage as yet occurs as would be admissible to us and
   satisfactory to her.”

In regard to England, therefore, Madison had nothing to propose except
negotiation without end. Having settled this point, he went on:--

   “At Paris I think Armstrong ought to receive instructions to
   extinguish in the French government every hope of turning our
   controversy with Spain into a French job, public or private;
   to leave them under apprehensions of an eventual connection
   between the United States and Great Britain; and to take
   advantage of any change in the French Cabinet favorable to our
   objects with Spain.”

To leave Bonaparte “under apprehensions” was to be the object
of Madison’s diplomacy at Paris,--a task which several European
governments were then employing half a million armed men to accomplish,
hitherto without success, but which Madison hoped to effect by
civilities to Merry.

After this decision, nothing remained but to mark out a line of
conduct in regard to Spain. In the course of the summer Bowdoin, the
new minister, had sailed; but on arriving in Spain, and learning the
failure of Monroe’s negotiation, he went to Paris and London without
visiting Madrid.

   “As to Spain herself,” continued Madison, “one question is,
   whether Bowdoin ought to proceed or not to Madrid. My opinion
   is that his trip to Great Britain was fortunate, and that
   the effect of it will be aided by his keeping aloof until
   occurrences shall invite him to Spain.... The nicest question,
   however, is whether any, or what, steps should be taken for
   a communication with the Spanish government on the points
   not embraced by the late negotiation. On this question my
   reflections disapprove of any step whatever other than such as
   may fall within the path to be marked out for Armstrong, or
   as may be within the sphere of Claiborne’s intercourse with
   the Marquis of Casa Calvo. Perhaps the last may be the best
   opportunity of all for conveying to Spain the impressions we
   wish, without committing the government in any respect more
   than may be advisable. In general it seems to me proper that
   Claiborne should hold a pretty strong language in all cases, and
   particularly that he should go every length the law will warrant
   against Morales and his project of selling lands. If Congress
   should be not indisposed, proceedings may be authorized that
   will be perfectly effectual on that as well as other points; but
   before their meeting there will be time to consider more fully
   what ought to be suggested for their consideration.”

Having brought the government face to face with the government of
Spain, in the belief that Spain and France must yield to a peremptory
demand,--finding that Spain not only refused every concession, but
renewed depredations on American commerce and took an attitude of
indifference to threats or entreaties,--Madison proposed no more
vigorous measure than to “go every length the law will warrant” against
certain Spanish land-grants.

Such a course pleased no one, and threatened to create new dangers.
Monroe and Armstrong urged that a supposed devotion to peace on the
part of the President weighed heavily against him with Spain and
France. Jefferson approved their proposed aggressive policy, as he
wrote to Madison, chiefly because it would “correct the dangerous error
that we are a people whom no injuries can provoke to war.”[63] He
shrank from war, except under the shield of England, and yet he feared
England for an ally even more than Spain for an enemy. His perplexity
ended in helplessness. The Cabinet meeting was held October 4; but he
reported to Madison that nothing came of it:[64]

   “The only questions which press on the Executive for decision
   are whether we shall enter into a provisional alliance with
   England, to come into force only in the event that _during the
   present war_ we become engaged in war _with France_,
   leaving the declaration of the _casus fœderis_ ultimately
   with us; whether we shall send away Yrujo, Casa Calvo, Morales;
   whether we shall instruct Bowdoin not to go to Madrid till
   further orders. But we are all of the opinion that the first of
   these questions is too important and too difficult to be decided
   but on the fullest consideration, in which your aid and counsel
   should be waited for.”

Again Madison wrote back his opinion. More than six months had elapsed
since the President, March 23, despaired of Monroe’s mission; every
alternative had been repeatedly discussed; every advice had been taken.
Congress would soon meet; something must be decided,--in reality delay
was itself a decision; yet the President and Secretary of State seemed
no nearer a result than they had been six months before. Meanwhile the
European packets brought news that put a different face on the problem.
Sir William Scott’s decision in the case of the “Essex” arrived;
seizures of American ships by England began; Pitt’s great coalition
with Russia and Austria against Napoleon took the field, and August 27
Napoleon broke up the camp at Boulogne and began his long-intended
movement across the Rhine. Upon Madison’s mind this European convulsion
acted as an additional reason for doing nothing:[65]--

   “Considering the probability of an extension of the war against
   France, and the influence that may have on her temper toward the
   United States, the uncertainty of effecting with England such
   a shape for an arrangement as alone would be admissible, and
   the possible effects elsewhere of abortive overtures to her, I
   think it very questionable whether a little delay may not be
   expedient, especially as in the mean time the English pulse will
   be somewhat felt by the discussions now on foot by Mr. Monroe.”

Accordingly the Secretary advised that Morales, Casa Calvo, and Yrujo
should be ordered out of the country, while Bowdoin should remain in
England,--and so left it.

Madison’s measures and conduct toward Europe showed the habit of
avoiding the heart of every issue, in order to fret its extremities.
This mark of Madison’s character as a diplomatist led him into his
chief difficulties at home and abroad; but the Spanish imbroglio of
1805 first brought the weakness into public notoriety, and he recovered
from the subsequent revelation only after years of misfortune. The
same habit of mind made him favor commercial restrictions as a means
of coercion. So he disregarded Armstrong’s idea of seizing Texas, but
warmly approved of his passing suggestion as to an embargo:[66]--

   “The efficacy of an embargo cannot be doubted. Indeed, if a
   commercial weapon can be properly shaped for the Executive hand,
   it is more and more apparent to me that it can force all the
   nations having colonies in this quarter of the globe to respect
   our rights.”

This mental trait was closely connected with Madison’s good
qualities,--it sprang from the same source as his caution, his respect
for law, his instinctive sense of the dangers that threatened the
Union, his curious mixture of radical and conservative tastes; but
whatever its merits or defects, it led to a strange delusion when it
caused him to believe that a man like Napoleon could be forced by a
mere pin-prick to do Jefferson’s will.

Jefferson himself was weary of indecision. He had rested his wish
for an English alliance on the belief that Napoleon meant to make
peace in Europe in order to attack America; and this idea, never very
reasonable, could have no weight after Napoleon had plunged into a
general European war. No sooner did he receive Madison’s letter of
October 16, than he again changed his plan.

   “The probability of an extensive war on the continent of
   Europe, strengthening every day for some time past, is now
   almost certain,” he wrote October 23 to Madison.[67] “This
   gives us our great desideratum, time. In truth it places us
   quite at our ease. We are certain of one year of campaigning
   at least, and one other year of negotiation for their peace
   arrangements. Should we be now forced into war, it is become
   much more questionable than it was whether we should not pursue
   it unembarrassed by any alliance, and free to retire from it
   whenever we can obtain our separate terms. It gives us time,
   too, to make another effort for peaceable settlement. Where
   should this be done? Not at Madrid, certainly. At Paris! through
   Armstrong, or Armstrong and Monroe as negotiators, France as
   the mediator, the price of the Floridas as the means. We need
   not care who gets that, and an enlargement of the sum we had
   thought of may be the bait to France, while the Guadalupe as the
   western boundary may be the soother of Spain; providing for our
   spoliated citizens in some effectual way. We may announce to
   France that determined not to ask justice of Spain again, yet
   desirous of making one other effort to preserve peace, we are
   willing to see whether her interposition can obtain it on terms
   which we think just; that no delay, however, can be admitted;
   and that in the mean time should Spain attempt to change the
   _status quo_, we shall repel force by force, without
   undertaking other active hostilities till we see what may be the
   issue of her interference.”

A similar letter was sent on the same day to Gallatin; and the next day
Jefferson wrote to Robert Smith, suggesting the same idea, with some
characteristic additions.[68]

Jefferson’s idea that Napoleon would require two years of war seemed
reasonable; for how could Jefferson know that Ulm had already
surrendered, that Austerlitz would be fought within six weeks, and
that peace would be restored before the new year, with the Emperor
Napoleon more terrible than ever? In truth Jefferson only reverted
to his policy of peace which he had seemed to abandon, but to which
he really clung even when most earnest for a British alliance. His
conduct in that sense was at least consistent. So much could hardly
be said for Madison, even though the President apparently yielded
to the secretary’s advice. Of all the points on which Madison, and
Monroe in obedience to his orders, had most strongly insisted, even to
the extent of offending Talleyrand, the strongest was that under no
circumstances should the Florida negotiation be turned into a bribe
to France. As late as September 30, in writing the opinion intended
to guide the Cabinet, Madison asked authority “to extinguish in the
French government every hope of turning our controversy with Spain
into a French job, public or private.”[69] The President’s suggestion
of October 23 avowedly turned the controversy with Spain into a French
job, which must inevitably become private as well as public.

Madison made no protest. He soon returned to Washington, and there,
Nov. 12, 1805, a Cabinel meeting was held, whose proceedings were
recorded by the President in a memorandum, probably written at the
moment. This memorandum closed a record, unusually complete, of
an episode illustrating better than any other the peculiarities of
Jefferson and Madison, and the traits of character most commonly
alleged as their faults.[70]

   “_1805, Nov. 12._ Present, the four secretaries; subject,
   Spanish affairs.--The extension of the war in Europe leaving us
   without danger of a sudden peace, depriving us of the chance
   of an ally, I proposed we should address ourselves to France,
   informing her it was a last effort at amicable settlement with
   Spain, and offer to her, or through her, (1) A sum of money for
   the rights of Spain east of Iberville, say the Floridas; (2) To
   cede the part of Louisiana from the Rio Bravo to the Guadalupe;
   (3) Spain to pay within a certain time spoliations under her
   own flag, agreed to by the convention (which we guess to be
   a hundred vessels, worth two millions), and those subsequent
   (worth as much more), and to hypothecate to us for those
   payments the country from Guadalupe to Rio Bravo. Armstrong
   to be employed. The first was to be the exciting motive with
   France, to whom Spain is in arrears for subsidies, and who will
   be glad also to secure us from going into the scale of England;
   the second, the soothing motive with Spain, which France would
   press _bonâ fide_, because she claimed to the Rio Bravo;
   the third, to quiet our merchants. It was agreed to unanimously,
   and the sum to be offered fixed not to exceed five million
   dollars. Mr. Gallatin did not like purchasing Florida under
   an apprehension of war, lest we should be thought in fact to
   purchase peace. We thought this overweighed by taking advantage
   of an opportunity which might not occur again of getting a
   country essential to our peace and to the security of the
   commerce of the Mississippi. It was agreed that Yrujo should be
   sounded through Dallas whether he is not going away, and if not,
   he should be made to understand that his presence at Washington
   will not be agreeable, and that his departure is expected. Casa
   Calvo, Morales, and all the Spanish officers at New Orleans are
   to be desired to depart, with a discretion to Claiborne to let
   any friendly ones remain who will resign and become citizens, as
   also women receiving pensions to remain if they choose.”




                              CHAPTER IV.


PRESIDENT JEFFERSON’S decision, in October, 1805, to retrace
his steps and reverse a policy which had been publicly and repeatedly
proclaimed, was the turning-point of his second Administration. No one
can say what might have happened if in August, 1805, Jefferson had
ordered his troops to cross the Sabine and occupy Texas to the Rio
Bravo, as Armstrong and Monroe advised. Such an act would probably
have been supported, as the purchase of Louisiana had been approved,
by the whole country, without regard to Constitutional theories; and
indeed if Jefferson succeeded to the rights of Napoleon in Louisiana,
such a step required no defence. Spain might then have declared war;
but had Godoy taken this extreme measure, he could have had no other
motive than to embarrass Napoleon by dragging France into a war with
the United States, and had this policy succeeded, President Jefferson’s
difficulties would have vanished in an instant. He might then have
seized Florida; his controversies with England about neutral trade,
blockade, and impressment would have fallen to the ground; and had
war with France continued two years, until Spain threw off the yoke
of Napoleon and once more raised in Europe the standard of popular
liberty, Jefferson might perhaps have effected some agreement with
the Spanish patriots, and would then have stood at the head of the
coming popular movement throughout the world,--the movement which he
and his party were destined to resist. Godoy, Napoleon, Pitt, Monroe,
Armstrong, John Randolph, and even the New England Federalists seemed
combined to drag or drive him into this path. Its advantages were so
plain, even at that early moment, as to overmaster for a whole summer
his instinctive repugnance to acts of force.

After long hesitation, Jefferson shrank from the step, and fell back
upon his old policy of conquering by peace; but such vacillations were
costly. To Gallatin the decision was easy, for he had ever held that
on the whole the nation could better afford a loss of dignity than a
war; but even he allowed that loss of dignity would cost something,
and he could not foretell what equivalent he must pay for escape from
a Franco-Spanish war. Neither Jefferson nor Gallatin could expect to
be wholly spared; but Madison’s position was worse than theirs, for he
had still to reckon with his personal enemies,--John Randolph, Yrujo,
and Merry,--and to overawe a _quasi_ friend more dangerous than an
enemy,--the military diplomat, Turreau.

Turreau during this summer kept his eye fixed on the Secretary of
State, and repeatedly hinted, in a manner extremely frank, that he
meant to tolerate no evasions. He wrote to Talleyrand in a tone of
cool confidence. July 9 he said that the Emperor’s measures for the
protection of Florida were sufficient:

   “The intervention of France in the negotiations with Spain has
   stopped everything. They have been affected by it here, but have
   not shown to me any discontent at it. ‘Well,’ said Mr. Jefferson
   to me lately, ‘since the Emperor wishes it, the arrangement
   shall be adjourned to a more favorable time.’”

That Jefferson made this remark could be believed only by his enemies,
for it contradicted the tenor of his letters to Madison; but although
Turreau doubtless overstated the force of the words, he certainly
gave to Talleyrand the impression that the President was reduced to
obedience. The impression was enough; correct or not, it strengthened
Napoleon’s natural taste for command.

A few weeks afterward, Turreau wrote to Madison a note in regard to
General Moreau’s reception in the United States. In a tone excessively
military he said:[71]--

   “General Moreau ought not (_ne doit point_) to be, in a
   foreign country, the object of honors which the consideration
   of his services would formerly have drawn upon him; and it is
   proper (_il convient_) that his arrival and his residence
   in the United States should be marked by no demonstration which
   passes the bounds of hospitality.”

Madison was indignant at this interference, and proposed to resent it.
The President encouraged him to do so, on the express ground that they
had not ventured to resent the conduct of France in regard to Monroe’s
negotiation:[72]--

   “The style of that government in the Spanish business was
   calculated to excite indignation; but it was a case in which
   that might have done injury. But the present is a case which
   would justify some notice in order to let them understand we are
   not of those Powers who will receive and execute mandates.”

Meanwhile General Smith, who had not resented the repudiation of
his niece by the Emperor, and to whom Madison showed the offensive
letter, undertook to soothe the irritation. “He says,” wrote Madison
in his next letter to the President,[73] “that Turreau speaks with
the greatest respect, and even affection, toward the Administration;
and such are the dispositions which it is certain he has uniformly
manifested to me.” Upon these assurances Madison toned down the
severity he had intended.

Turreau had resided hardly six months in the United States before he
announced to Talleyrand the conviction of all American politicians that
any war would end in driving from office the party which made it:[74]--

   “To such an extent is the actual Administration convinced of
   this fact, that it allows itself to be outraged every day by
   the English, and accepts all the humiliations they care to
   impose; and notwithstanding the contempt generally felt here for
   Spain, against whom a war was last year quite openly provoked,
   the members of the United States government have not dared to
   undertake it, although sure of beginning it with public opinion
   in their favor. And no one need think that this indisposition to
   war depends only on the personal character and the philanthropic
   principles of Mr. Jefferson, for it is shared by all the
   party leaders, even by those who have most pretensions and
   well-founded hopes to succeed the actual President,--such as Mr.
   Madison.”

Turreau’s sketch of American character and ambition was long and
interesting, and suggested the vulnerable point where France should
throw her strength against this new people. Neither as a military nor
as a naval power did he think the United States formidable. Their
government made no concealment of its weakness:--

   “They especially lack trained officers. The Americans are
   to-day the boldest and the most ignorant navigators in the
   universe. In brief, it seems to me that, considering the
   weakness of the military constitution, the Federal government,
   which makes no concealment of this weakness, will avoid every
   serious difference which might lead to aggression, and will
   constantly show itself an enemy to war. But does the system of
   encroachment which prevails here agree with a temper so pacific?
   Certainly not, at first sight; and yet unless circumstances
   change, the United States will succeed in reconciling the
   contradiction. To conquer without war is the first fact in their
   politics (_Conquérir sans guerre, voilà les premiers faits
   politiques._)”

These reflections were written early in July, 1805, before the
President and his Cabinet had begun to discuss Monroe’s failure and
the policy of a Spanish war, and more than three months before the
President wholly abandoned the thought of warlike measures. Turreau’s
vision was keen, but he had no excuse for short-sightedness. Madison
made little effort to disguise his objects or methods.

   “I took occasion to express to Mr. Madison,” wrote Turreau
   in the same despatch, “my astonishment that the schemes of
   aggrandizement which the United States government appeared to
   have, should be always directed toward the south, while there
   were still in the north important and convenient territories,
   such as Canada, Nova Scotia, etc. ‘Doubtless!’ replied the
   secretary, ‘but the moment has not yet come! When the pear is
   ripe it will fall of itself.’”

Had Turreau asked why, then, Madison gave so violent a shaking to the
Florida pear-tree, Madison must have answered, with the same candor,
that he did so because he supposed the Florida pear to be ripe. The
phrase was an admission and an invitation,--an admission that Florida
would have been left alone if Spain had been as strong as England; and
an invitation to Turreau to interpose with safety the sword of France.
Turreau could not doubt the effect of his own blunt interference.
So confident had the new French minister already become, in July,
1805, that he not only told Madison to stop these petty larcenies of
Spanish property, but also urged Napoleon to take the Floridas and
Cuba into his own hand solely to check American aggression. “I believe
that France alone can arrest these American enterprises and baffle
(_déjouer_) their plan.”

Had Turreau’s discipline stopped there, much might have been said in
his favor; but in regard to still another matter he used expressions
and made demands such as Madison never yet had heard from a diplomatic
agent, although the secretary’s experience was already considerable.
Neither Yrujo nor Merry had succeeded in giving to their remonstrances
or requests the abruptness of Napoleon’s style.

The Federalist newspapers during Jefferson’s first term had found so
little reason for charging him with subservience to France, that this
old and stale reproach had nearly lost its weight. Neither the New
England merchants whom France had plundered, and whose claims Jefferson
consented to withdraw, nor the British government or British newspapers
had thought it worth their while to press the charge that Jefferson
was led astray by love or fear of Napoleon or the Empire. Not until
the winter of 1805–1806 did the doctrine of French influence recover a
certain share of strength; but as John Randolph and his friends, who
detested Madison, were outraged by the conduct of France in Spanish
affairs, so Timothy Pickering and the whole body of Federalists, who
hated the South and the power which rested on the dumb vote of slaves,
were exasperated by the conduct of France in regard to their trade with
St. Domingo. In both cases Madison was the victim.

St. Domingo was still in name and in international law a colony of
France. Although Rochambeau surrendered himself and his few remaining
troops as prisoners of war to the English in November, 1803; although
the negroes in January, 1804, proclaimed their independence, and held
undisputed control of the whole French colony, while their ports were
open, and not an armed vessel bearing the flag of France pretended to
maintain a blockade,--yet Napoleon claimed that the island belonged
to him. General Ferrand still held points in the Spanish colony for
France, and defeated an invasion attempted by Dessalines; nor did any
government betray a disposition to recognize the black empire, or to
establish relations with Dessalines or Christophe, or with a negro
republic. On the other hand, the trade of Hayti, being profitable, was
encouraged by every government in turn; but because it was, even more
than other West Indian trade, unprotected by law, the vessels which
carried it were usually armed, and sailed in company. In the winter
of 1804–1805, soon after General Turreau’s arrival at Washington, a
flotilla armed with eighty cannon and carrying crews to the number of
seven hundred men, set sail from New York with cargoes which included
contraband of war of all kinds. Turreau remonstrated with Madison, who
assured him that a law would soon be reported for correcting this abuse.

A Bill was accordingly reported; but it prohibited only the armed
commerce and put the trade under heavy bonds for good behavior. To
answer Turreau’s object the trade must be prohibited altogether. Dr.
Logan, one of the senators from Pennsylvania, who led the Northern
democrats, with the “Aurora’s” support, in hostility to the Haytian
negroes, moved an amendment to the Bill when it came before the Senate.
He proposed to prohibit every kind of commerce with St. Domingo; and
the Senate was so closely divided as to require the casting vote of the
Vice-President. Burr gave his voice against Dr. Logan’s amendment, and
the Bill accordingly passed, March 3, 1805, leaving the unarmed trade
still open.

Turreau duly reported these matters to his Government.[75] The facts
were public, and were given needless notoriety by the merchants
themselves. On the return of the Haytian flotilla to New York, they
celebrated the event in a public dinner, and the company drank a
health to the government of Hayti. Another expedition was reported
to be preparing. General Ferrand issued severe proclamations against
the trade,[76] and Madison remonstrated strongly against Ferrand. One
armed American vessel, which had carried three cargoes of powder to
the Haytians, was taken by a British cruiser, sent into Halifax, and
there condemned by the British court as good prize for carrying on an
unlawful trade.

Early in August, 1805, after Monroe’s return to London, and while
Jefferson and Madison were discussing the problem of protecting
themselves from French designs, the Emperor Napoleon, who had
returned from Italy and gone to the camp at Boulogne, received
Turreau’s despatch, and immediately wrote in his own emphatic style to
Talleyrand:[77]--

   “The despatch from Washington has fixed my attention. I request
   you to send a note to the American minister accredited to me.
   You will join to it a copy of the judgment [at Halifax]; and
   you will declare to him that it is time for this thing to stop
   (_que cela finisse_); that it is shameful (_indigne_)
   in the Americans to provide supplies for brigands and to take
   part in a commerce so scandalous; that I will declare good prize
   everything which shall enter or leave the ports of St. Domingo;
   and that I can no longer see with indifference the armaments
   evidently directed against France which the American government
   allows to be made in its ports.”

In this outburst of temper Napoleon’s ideas of law became confused.
The American government did not dispute his right to seize American
vessels trading with Hayti: the difficulty was that he did not or could
not do so, and for this reason he made the demand that the American
government should help him in doing what he was powerless to effect
without its aid. Talleyrand immediately wrote to Armstrong a letter
in which he tried to put the Emperor’s commands into a shape more
diplomatic, by treating the Haytians as enemies of the human race,
against whom it was right that the United States should interpose with
measures of hostility:[78]--

   “As the seriousness of the facts which occasion this complaint
   obliges his Majesty to consider as good prize everything which
   shall enter into the part of St. Domingo occupied by the rebels,
   and everything coming out, he persuades himself that the
   government of the United States will take on its part, against
   this commerce at once illicit and contrary to all the principles
   of the law of nations, all the repressive and authoritative
   measures proper to put an end to it. This system of impunity
   and tolerance must last no longer (_ne pourrait durer
   davantage_).”

For the third time within six months Talleyrand used the word “must”
to the President of the United States. Once the President had been
told that he must abandon his Spanish claims; then that he must
show no public respect for Moreau; finally he was told still more
authoritatively that he must stop a trade which France was unable to
stop, and which would continue in British hands if Congress should obey
Napoleon’s order. Talleyrand directed Turreau to repeat at Washington
the Emperor’s remonstrance, and Turreau accordingly echoed in Madison’s
ear the identical words, “must last no longer.”[79] His letter, to his
indignation, received no answer or notice.

Thus at the moment when Congress was to meet, Dec. 2, 1805, serious
problems awaited it. The conduct of Spain was hostile. At sea Spanish
cruisers captured American property without regard to treaty-rights;
on land Spanish armed forces made incursions from Florida and Texas at
will.[80] The conduct of France was equally menacing, for Napoleon not
only sustained Spain, but also pressed abrupt demands of his own such
as Jefferson could not hear without indignation. As though Congress had
not enough difficulty in dealing with these two Powers, Great Britain
also took an attitude which could be properly met by no resistance
short of a declaration of war.

During the whole year the conduct of England changed steadily for the
worse. The blockade of New York by the two frigates “Cambrian” and
“Leander” became intolerable, exasperating even the mercantile class,
who were naturally friendly to England, and who had most to dread
from a quarrel. On board the “Leander” was a young midshipman named
Basil Hall, who in later years described the mode of life he led in
this service, and whose account of the blockade, coming from a British
source, was less liable than any American authority to the charge of
exaggeration.

   “Every morning at daybreak,” according to his story,[81] “we set
   about arresting the progress of all the vessels we saw, firing
   off guns to the right and left to make every ship that was
   running in heave to, or wait until we had leisure to send a boat
   on board ‘to see,’ in our lingo, ‘what she was made of.’ I have
   frequently known a dozen, and sometimes a couple of dozen, ships
   lying a league or two off the port, losing their fair wind,
   their tide, and worse than all their market, for many hours,
   sometimes the whole day, before our search was completed.”

An informality in papers, a suspicion of French ownership, a chance
expression in some private letter found and opened in the search,
insured seizure, a voyage to Halifax, detention for months, heavy
costs, indefinite damage to vessel and cargo, and at best release, with
no small chance of re-seizure and condemnation under some new rule
before the ship could reach port.

Such vexations were incident to a state of war. If the merchants of
New York disliked them, the merchants might always ask Government to
resent them; but in truth commerce found its interest in submission.
These vexations secured neutral profits; and on the whole the British
frigates and admiralty courts created comparatively little scandal
by injustice, while they served as a protection from the piratical
privateers of Spain and France. Madison, Gallatin, and the newspapers
grumbled and complained; but the profits of neutrality soothed the
offended merchant, and the blockade of New York was already a fixed
practice. Had the British commanders been satisfied with a moderate
exercise of their power, the United States would probably have allowed
the habit of neutral blockade to grow into a belligerent right by
prescription. Neither the mercantile class nor the government would
have risked profit or popularity on such a stake; but fortunately the
British officers steadily became more severe, and meanwhile in their
practice of impressment roused extreme bitterness among the seafaring
classes, who had nothing to gain by submission. In Basil Hall’s words,
the British officers took out of American vessels every seaman “whom
they had reason, or supposed or said they had reason, to consider”
a British subject, “or whose country they guessed from dialect or
appearance.” By these impressments American vessels were often left
short-handed, and were sometimes cast away or foundered. In such cases
the owners were greatly irritated; but commonly the exasperation was
most deeply felt by the laboring class and among the families of
seafaring men. The severity with which impressment was enforced in 1805
excited hatred toward England among people who had at best no reason to
love her. More than twenty years afterward, when Basil Hall revisited
New York, he was not surprised to find the name of his old ship, the
“Leander,” still held in detestation. Not only were the duties harsh,
but, as he frankly admitted, they were harshly performed.

After Pitt’s return to power impressments increased until they averaged
about a thousand a year. Among them were cases of intolerable outrage;
but neither President, Congress, nor people, nor even the victims
themselves, cared as a body to fight in defence of their rights and
liberties. Where an American-born citizen had been seized who could
prove his birth, Madison on receiving the documents sent them to
Monroe, who transmitted them to the British Admiralty, which ordered
an inquiry; and if the man had not been killed in action or died of
disease and hard usage, he was likely, after a year or two of service,
to obtain a release. The American-born citizen was admitted to be no
subject for impressment, and the number of such persons actually taken
was never so large as the number of British-born sailors who were
daily impressed; but both the mercantile and the national marine of
the United States were largely manned by British seamen, and could not
dispense with them. According to Gallatin’s calculation,[82] American
tonnage increased after 1803 at the rate of about seventy thousand tons
a year; and of the four thousand two hundred men required to supply
this annual increase, about two thousand five hundred were British.
If the British marine lost two thousand five hundred men annually by
desertion or engagement in the American service, even after recovering
one thousand seamen a year by impressment, the British navy made good
only a fraction of the loss. On the other hand, if the United States
government went to war to protect British seamen, America would lose
all her mercantile marine; and these same seamen for whom she was
fighting must for the most part necessarily return to their old flag,
because they would then have no other employer. The immediate result
of war must strengthen the British marine by sending back to it ten
thousand seamen whom America could no longer employ.

Nations rarely submit to injury without a motive. If Jefferson and the
Republican party, if Timothy Pickering and George Cabot, the merchants
of Boston and New York, and even the seamen themselves, rejected
the idea of war, it was because they found a greater interest in
maintaining peace. This interest consisted, as regarded England, in the
large profits realized in neutral freights. So long as the British navy
protected this source of American wealth, Americans said but little
about impressments; but in the summer of 1805 Pitt thought proper
to obstruct this source, and suddenly the whole American seaboard,
from Machias to Norfolk, burst into excitement, and demanded that the
President should do something,--they knew not what, but at moments they
seemed to ask for war.

The news of Sir William Scott’s decision in the case of the “Essex”
reached America in the month of September, while the President and
Madison were discussing an alliance with England to protect themselves
against France and Spain. The announcement that Great Britain had
suddenly begun to seize American ships by scores at the moment when
Jefferson counted most confidently on her willingness to oblige, was a
blow to the Administration so severe that a long time elapsed before
either Jefferson or Madison realized its violence. Their minds were
intent on the Spanish problem; and with the question of war pressing
upon them from the south, they did not at once perceive that another
war was actually declared against their commerce from the north.
Jefferson disliked commercial disputes, and gladly shut his eyes to
their meaning; Madison felt their importance, but was never quick to
meet an emergency.

Merry was near Philadelphia during the autumn, when Mrs. Madison’s
illness obliged the secretary to remain in that city. Early in
September Merry wrote to his Government that the complete failure of
Monroe’s Spanish mission was no secret, and that Madison expected some
collision with Spain in West Florida, but would wait for the meeting
of Congress before taking action. “Such a determination on the part of
the President,” continued Merry,[83] “is so consonant with his usual
caution and temporizing system (to which the opposition here give the
character of timidity and irresolution), that I cannot but be disposed
to give entire credit to the information.” Shortly after the date of
this despatch, news arrived that the British government had altered
its rules in regard to the neutral carrying-trade, and that British
cruisers were everywhere seizing American ships. Merry, who had not
been forewarned by Lord Mulgrave, and who had no wish to see his own
position made more uncomfortable than it already was, became uneasy.
“The sensation and clamor,” he wrote,[84] “excited by this news from
England (which has already caused the insurance on such cargoes to be
raised to four times the usual premium) is rendered the greater by
such events having been totally unexpected, and by the merchants here
having, on the contrary, considered themselves as perfectly secured
against them.” Merry saw that his Government had in the midst of peace
taken a measure which Madison could hardly fail to denounce as an act
of war. Dreading a violent explosion, the British minister waited
anxiously; but, to his surprise, nothing happened. “Although I have
seen Mr. Madison twice since the attention of the public has been so
much engaged with this object, he has not thought proper to mention it
to me.”[85] At first Merry could not account for this silence; only by
degrees was he taught to connect it with the Spanish quarrel, and to
understand that Madison hoped to conciliate England in order to overawe
France. In this play of cross-purposes Merry’s account of Madison’s
conversation was not calculated to alarm the British government:[86]--

   “Before I quitted the vicinity of Philadelphia to return to
   this place [Washington], I had an interview with Mr. Madison,
   who having then received accounts from Mr. Monroe respecting
   the detention by his Majesty’s ships of several American
   vessels in consequence of their being loaded with the produce
   of the enemy’s colonies, brought forward that subject to
   me,--speaking upon it, however, with much more moderation than
   from his natural irritability, and the sensation which it had
   produced throughout this country, I could have expected on
   his part. It is unnecessary for me to trouble your Lordship
   by detailing to you the several observations which he made to
   me to endeavor to prove the impropriety of the principle upon
   which the detention of those vessels has taken place.... As I
   had the honor to observe in the former part of this letter, the
   American Secretary of State delivered his sentiments on this
   subject with great temper, and concluded by expressing only a
   wish that Mr. Monroe’s remonstrances upon it might prove so far
   efficacious as at least to procure the liberation of the vessels
   and cargoes which were already detained, as well as of those
   which might be stopped before the new system adopted by his
   Majesty’s government in regard to the trade in question should
   be generally known. Our conversation afterward turned upon some
   circumstances, the accounts of which had just been received,
   of the recent conduct of Spain toward this country, when Mr.
   Madison was much less reserved in expressing his sentiments than
   on former occasions, and gave me the detail of the perfidious
   and insolent proceedings of some of the Spanish officers who
   still remain at New Orleans, and of others who command in the
   disputed territory,--which, combined with information he had
   received of the departure of four hundred troops with a quantity
   of military stores from the Havana, supposed to be destined to
   reinforce the garrisons in East and West Florida, and with a
   report which prevailed at New Orleans of a considerable force
   advancing from Mexico toward Louisiana, could not, he observed,
   fail to render the differences subsisting between the two
   governments still more difficult of accommodation.”

This conversation took place about the middle of October, before the
President had decided to acquiesce in the acts of Spain and France.
As a result of the high tone taken toward England in the winter of
1803–1804, the secretary’s mildness might well surprise a British
minister, who was not quick of comprehension, and required to be told
in plain language the meaning of Madison’s manœuvres. No sooner had
Merry returned to Washington than “a confidential person” was sent to
him to explain the mystery:[87]--

   “On this subject it has been remarked to me by a person in a
   confidential situation here that the detention of the American
   vessels by his Majesty’s ships has happened very unseasonably to
   divert the attention of the people of the United States and of
   the Government from a proper consideration of the grievances and
   injuries which they have experienced from Spain, and which the
   Government were disposed and had actually taken the measures to
   resent; and he conceived that when the state of the relations
   between the United States and other Powers should be laid by
   the President before Congress at their approaching meeting, the
   circumstance abovementioned, of what is considered to be so
   unfriendly a proceeding on the part of Great Britain, will have
   the same effect upon the resolutions of that body by blunting
   the feelings which would otherwise have been excited by the
   conduct of Spain, supported by France, against this country.”

The “confidential person” usually employed by Jefferson and Madison
on such errands was either Robert or Samuel Smith; partly because
both these gentlemen were a little inclined to officiousness, partly
because they were men of the world, or what Pichon called “_hommes
fort polis_.” In this instance the agent was probably the Secretary
of the Navy. In telling the British minister that the President had
already taken measures to resist the conduct of Spain, this agent was
unwise, not so much because the assertion was incorrect, as because
Merry knew better. In the same despatch, written Nov. 3, 1805, Merry
informed his Government of the President’s hopes of an agreement with
Spain, founded on the war in Europe,--hopes which had been entertained
only ten days, since October 23. He had the best reason to be well
informed on this subject, for he drew his information directly from
Jefferson himself.

That Merry should have been exceedingly perplexed was no wonder. Two
years had elapsed since his first arrival in Washington, when he had
been harshly treated without sufficient reason, by President, Cabinet,
and Congress; and on returning to the same place in this autumn of
1805, immediately after his Government had made war on United States
commerce, he found himself received with surprising cordiality.
Immediately on his return, about October 20, he called at the White
House. Instead of finding the President in a passion, denouncing Pitt
and the British nation, as he might reasonably have expected, Merry was
delighted to find Jefferson in his most genial humor. Not a word was
said about British outrages; his conversation assumed the existence
of a close concert and alliance between England and the United
States:[88]--

   “Upon my seeing the President on my return to this place a
   fortnight ago, he spoke to me with great frankness respecting
   the state of affairs between this country and Spain; saying that
   it was possible that the accumulation of the injuries which they
   had sustained might produce a resolution on the part of the
   Congress to resent them. With a view to the hostile situation of
   affairs, he lamented that unfortunately [notwithstanding] the
   superiority of his Majesty’s naval force and the vigilance of
   his officers, it had not been possible to prevent the enemy’s
   fleet from crossing the Atlantic. He said that this experience
   would render it necessary for the United States to proceed with
   great caution and to gain time, in order to put their principal
   seaports in a state of defence, for which he had already given
   directions. In the event of hostilities he considered that East
   and West Florida, and successively the Island of Cuba, the
   possession of which was necessary for the defence of Louisiana
   and Florida, as being the key to the Gulf of Mexico, would, in
   the manner in which that island might and would be attacked,
   be an easy conquest to them. He, however, expressed that his
   individual voice would constantly be for the preservation of
   peace with every Power, till it could no longer be kept without
   absolute dishonor.”

Such speculations were not so practical as to affect Merry’s antipathy
to the American government, but he reported them to Lord Mulgrave
without comment, as intended to express the President’s plan in case
of a Spanish war. Meanwhile the Secretary of State was engaged in
composing a pamphlet, or book, to prove that the new rule adopted by
Great Britain was an act of bad faith, in violation of international
law. The task was not difficult.

Such was the diplomatic situation at Washington, Nov. 12, 1805, when
the Cabinet adopted Jefferson’s plan of reopening negotiations for the
purchase of Florida on the line so persistently recommended by the
irresponsible creatures of Talleyrand, and so steadily rejected to that
moment by Madison and Monroe. Congress was to meet in three weeks, and
within that time the diplomatic chaos must be reduced to order.




                              CHAPTER V.


AUGUST 27, 1805, President Jefferson, writing to Madison
from Monticello, said:[89] “Considering the character of Bonaparte, I
think it material at once to let him see that we are not of the Powers
who will receive his orders.” In Europe, on the same day, the Emperor
broke up the camp at Boulogne and set his army in motion toward Ulm and
Austerlitz. September 4 he was at Paris, busy with the thousand details
of imminent war: his armies were in motion, his vast diplomatic and
military plans were taking shape.

The United States minister at Paris had little to do except to watch
the course of events, when during the Emperor’s absence at Boulogne he
received a visit from a gentleman who had no official position, but who
brought with him a memorandum, written in Talleyrand’s hand, sketching
the outlines of an arrangement between the United States and Spain.
The United States, said this paper, should send another note to the
Government at Madrid, written in a tone and manner that would awaken
Spain from her indifference. In this note the Prince of Peace should
be warned of the consequences that would follow a persistence in his
course, and should be encouraged to join with the United States in
referring to Napoleon the matters in dispute. In case Spain would not
unite in asking the good offices of France, a copy of the note must be
sent by Armstrong to Talleyrand, with a request for the good offices
of Napoleon. “The more you refer to the decision of the Emperor, the
more sure and easy will be the settlement.” If Spain, on the Emperor’s
representations, should consent to part with the Floridas, as she no
doubt would do, France would propose the following terms: Commercial
privileges in Florida as in Louisiana; the Rio Colorado and a line
northwestwardly, including the headwaters of all those rivers which
fall into the Mississippi, as the western boundary of Louisiana, with
thirty leagues on each side to remain unoccupied forever; the claims
against Spain, excluding the French spoliations, to be paid by bills on
the Spanish colonies; and, finally, ten million dollars to be paid by
the United States to Spain.

Armstrong rejected the conditions on the spot. They sacrificed, he
said, the whole country between the Colorado and the Rio Bravo;
abandoned the claim to West Florida, the claim to damages from the
violation of _entrepôt_ at New Orleans, and the claim, estimated
at six millions, for French spoliations. They gave to Spain an
accommodation for her payments beyond what she herself required; and
they exacted the enormous sum of ten million dollars for a barren and
expensive province.

September 4, the day of Napoleon’s return to Paris, a long conversation
followed. On both sides vigorous argument was pressed; but the
Frenchman closed by saying: “I see where the shoe pinches. It is ‘the
enormous sum of ten million dollars;’ but say seven! Your undisputed
claims on Spain amount to two and a half or three millions. The
arrangement as thus altered would leave four for Spain. Is not this
sum within the limits of moderation?” Armstrong replied that he had
nothing to say on the money transaction, but would immediately transmit
Talleyrand’s memorandum to the President. His despatch on the subject
was accordingly sent, Sept. 10, 1805.[90]

Armstrong had little acquaintance with the person who brought the
memorandum for his sole credential, and knew him only as a political
agent of the government, who rested his claim to credit not on any
authority from the Emperor, but on an unsigned document in Talleyrand’s
handwriting. “This form of communication he said had been preferred on
account of greater security; it was a proof of the minister’s habitual
circumspection, and of nothing else.” To most Frenchmen it might have
seemed rather an example of Talleyrand’s supposed taste for jobbery,
and the United States government had reason to know what was likely
to be the outcome of such overtures; but Armstrong was not unused to
intrigue, and did not affect virtue above the comprehension of the
society in which he lived.

A fortnight afterward the Emperor left Paris for his campaign in
Germany. While Armstrong’s despatch was still on its way to Washington,
Napoleon captured Ulm, and November 13 entered Vienna. On the same day
the despatch reached the United States.

Jefferson’s Cabinet council of November 12 had barely come to its
long-disputed conclusion, and decided to reopen the Florida negotiation
as a French bargain, when Talleyrand’s memorandum arrived, fixing
definitely his terms. Naturally, the President supposed that Florida
might thenceforward be looked upon as his own. At the next Cabinet he
laid Armstrong’s letter before the four secretaries; and the result of
their deliberation was recorded in his own hand:[91]--

   “November 19. Present the same.--Since our last meeting we have
   received a letter from General Armstrong containing Talleyrand’s
   propositions, which are equivalent to ours nearly, except as to
   the sum, he requiring seven million dollars. He advises that we
   alarm the fears of Spain by a vigorous language and conduct, in
   order to induce her to join us in appealing to the interference
   of the Emperor. We now agree to modify our propositions, so as
   to accommodate them to his as much as possible. We agree to pay
   five million dollars for the Floridas as soon as the treaty is
   ratified by Spain, a vote of credit obtained from Congress,
   and orders delivered us for the surrender of the country. We
   agree to his proposition that the Colorado shall be our western
   boundary, and a belt of thirty leagues on each side of it to be
   kept unsettled. We agree that joint commissioners shall settle
   all spoliations, and to take payment from Spain by bills on her
   colonies. We agree to say nothing about the French spoliations
   in Spanish ports which broke off the former convention. We
   propose to pay the five millions after a simple vote of credit,
   by stock redeemable in three years, within which time we can pay
   it. We agree to order to the commanding officer at Natchitoches
   to patrol the country on this side the Sabine and all the Red
   River as being in our possession, except the settlement of Bayou
   Pierre, which he is not to disturb unless they aggress; he is to
   protect our citizens and repel all invasions of the preceding
   country by Spanish soldiers; to take all offenders without
   shedding blood, unless his orders cannot otherwise be executed.”

At last, after more than six months of hesitation, a Spanish policy
was fixed; and since it conceded every point which had been required
by France, the President might reasonably hope that his difficulties
were at an end. He did not venture to send instructions to Armstrong
at once, because the authority of Congress was needed before pledging
the government to pay so large a sum of money; but Congress was to
meet within a few weeks, and Jefferson could safely assume that the
instructions would not be delayed beyond the New Year.

The President was greatly relieved to see the end of this annoying
imbroglio; the more, because he could no longer shut his eyes to
the conduct of Great Britain. The merchants of Boston, New York,
Philadelphia, and Baltimore were frantic with rage and despair,
hearing every day of new seizures, which swelled their losses to a
sum then quite appalling, and carried ruin to their fairest fortunes.
The carrying-trade was not a matter about which Jefferson cared to
quarrel, for he held that Americans should not meddle with a commerce
which did not belong to them; yet the public anger was far stronger
against England than against Spain, and although the newspapers talked
incessantly of a Spanish war, Jefferson soon felt that he should find
great difficulty in preserving a British peace. That he should incline
to a war with Spain in alliance with England was natural; but under
no circumstances, and for no object, did Jefferson wish for war with
Great Britain. From the first he had relied upon his power to coerce
her by peaceable means; and the time had come when some coercion must
be applied. No one could longer doubt that Pitt meant to keep what he
had taken, and that the British policy was preconcerted with deliberate
purpose.

When Merry next called at the State Department he heard nothing more
about the misconduct of Spain or the advantages of a powerful British
navy.

   “The lively sensation” produced by the seizures, wrote Merry
   to Mulgrave,[92] December 2, “appears to have increased
   considerably since I had the honor of writing to your Lordship
   by the last mail. The commercial bodies at Philadelphia,
   Baltimore, and Norfolk have held public meetings on this
   subject, and come to resolutions to transmit to the Government
   of the United States particular statements of the injuries they
   allege to be sustaining daily in their trade. I am sorry to add
   that those public prints which are considered as the organs of
   the Government ... have of late lost sight in a great measure
   of their complaints against Spain, with a view, as may be
   suspected, to excite and direct the whole national indignation
   against Great Britain....

   “In addition, my Lord, to these circumstances, I have been sorry
   to find in my recent conversations with Mr. Madison that he
   has treated this subject in a much more serious light than he
   had at first represented it to me. At my last interview with
   him, two days ago, he said that he had flattered himself that
   Mr. Monroe’s remonstrances to your Lordship would not only
   have produced the liberation of all the vessels which should
   have been detained previously to the 1st November, but that,
   as that minister had been promised an answer in writing to his
   representations, the reconsideration of the matter which would
   probably have taken place before a written answer was given
   might have induced his Majesty’s government, if not to give
   up entirely, at least to modify to a tolerable degree, the
   principle upon which they acted. It was true that the answer in
   question had not as yet reached him, nor had he heard lately
   from Mr. Monroe; but he had recently received information from
   an authentic though not an official quarter, which gave him
   the strongest reason to apprehend that if any reply at all in
   writing should be made on the subject, it would contain nothing
   satisfactory.”

Madison raised his tone awkwardly. Mysterious “information from an
authentic quarter” was scarcely sufficient ground for so abrupt a
change, but Merry failed to press him on this point. The secretary told
the British minister that the government of England had committed “an
act of commercial hostility on this country, and that the citizens of
the United States would have a just claim of indemnity for whatever
effective losses they might sustain in consequence of it; and he feared
that these would be very considerable.” He hinted that measures would
be taken to seek redress; and although he did not then foreshadow these
measures, Merry read two days afterward in the “National Intelligencer”
the Resolutions and speech in which Madison, in the year 1794, had
urged commercial restrictions as the true policy of the United States
against the same British outrages. The motive of republication was
plain.

At about the same time Madison finished his pamphlet called
“Examination of the British Doctrine,” which in the course of the
coming session was laid on the desk of every senator and member. The
book was creditable to his literary and scholarly qualities. Clear,
calm, convincing, it left the British government no excuse for its
conduct; but, not without reason, John Randolph objected that as an
argument it was but a shilling pamphlet against eight hundred British
ships of war. That Pitt could occasionally be convinced of his mistakes
was certain; but no reasoners except Napoleon and Moreau had ever
effectually convinced him.

Meanwhile the President prepared his Message. Of all Jefferson’s
writings none had a livelier interest than the Annual Message at the
meeting of the Ninth Congress. The Second Inaugural, nine months
before, prepared the public for new political opinions; but the Message
surprised even those who looked for surprises. The Second Inaugural
seemed to sweep old Republican principles to the common rubbish-heap
of out-worn political toys. The Message went even further, and seemed
to announce that the theory of foreign affairs on which the Republican
Administration began its career must be abandoned. Jefferson intended
it to carry such a meaning.

   “The love of peace,” he wrote to one of his old friends,[93]
   “which we sincerely feel and profess, has begun to produce an
   opinion in Europe that our government is entirely in Quaker
   principles, and will turn the left cheek when the right has
   been smitten. This opinion must be corrected when just occasion
   arises, or we shall become the plunder of all nations. The moral
   duties make no part of the political system of those governments
   of Europe which are habitually belligerent.”

The Message began by an allusion to the yellow fever; from which it
quickly turned to discuss the greater scourge of war:--

   “Since our last meeting the aspect of our foreign relations has
   considerably changed. Our coasts have been infested and our
   harbors watched by private armed vessels; some of them without
   commissions, some with illegal commissions, others with those of
   legal form, but committing piratical acts beyond the authority
   of their commissions.... The same system of hovering on our
   coasts and harbors, under color of seeking enemies, has been
   also carried on by public armed ships, to the great annoyance
   and oppression of our commerce. New principles, too, have been
   interpolated into the law of nations, founded neither in justice
   nor the usage or acknowledgment of nations.... With Spain our
   negotiations for a settlement of differences have not had a
   satisfactory issue.... Propositions for adjusting amicably the
   boundaries of Louisiana have not been acceded to.... Inroads
   have recently been made into the territories of Orleans and the
   Mississippi; our citizens have been seized and their property
   plundered in the very parts of the former which had actually
   been delivered up by Spain, and this by the regular officers and
   soldiers of that government. I have therefore found it necessary
   at length to give orders to our troops on that frontier to be
   in readiness to protect our citizens and to repel by arms any
   similar aggressions in future. Other details necessary for your
   full information of the state of things between this country
   and that shall be the subject of another communication. In
   reviewing these injuries from some of the belligerent Powers,
   the moderation, the firmness, and the wisdom of the Legislature
   will all be called into action. We ought still to hope that
   time, and a more correct estimate of interest as well as of
   character, will produce the justice we are bound to expect; but
   should any nation deceive itself by false calculations, and
   disappoint that expectation, we must join in the unprofitable
   contest of trying which party can do the other the most harm.
   Some of these injuries may perhaps admit a peaceable remedy.
   Where that is competent it is always the most desirable. But
   some of them are of a nature to be met by force only, and all of
   them may lead to it.”

From this preamble the public would naturally infer that measures of
force were to be the object of the special message promised in regard
to Spanish aggressions. As though to leave no doubt on the subject,
the President urged the fortification of seaports, the building of
gunboats, the organization of militia, the prohibition of the export of
arms and ammunition; and added that the materials for building ships of
the line were on hand.

All this formality of belligerent language was little better than
comedy. Jefferson could hardly be charged with a wish to deceive, since
he could not wear the mask of deception. Both friends and enemies
were amused to see how naturally he betrayed objects which his plan
required should be concealed. In the first draft of the Message, sent
for correction to Gallatin, the financial prospect was as pacific as
the diplomatic was warlike; the Message not only announced a surplus
for the coming year, but suggested the reduction of taxes. Gallatin
pointed out that the English seizures alone would affect the revenue,
and any measure of retaliation would still further diminish it; while
the navy had increased its estimates from six hundred and fifty
thousand dollars to one million and seventy thousand dollars. As for
the hint at a reduction of taxes, Gallatin at once struck it out.[94]
“As it relates to foreign nations, it will certainly destroy the
effect intended by other parts of the Message. They never can think us
serious in any intentions to resist, if we recommend at the same time a
diminution of our resources.” The President made these corrections, and
returned the draft for revisal, with a note:[95]--

   “On reviewing what had been prepared as to Great Britain and
   Spain, I found it too soft toward the former compared with the
   latter, and that so temperate a notice of the greater enormity
   of British invasions of right might lessen the effect which
   the strong language toward Spain was meant to produce at the
   Tuileries. I have therefore given more force to the strictures
   on Britain.”

In studying “the effect which the strong language toward Spain was
meant to produce at the Tuileries,” Jefferson had in mind the effect
which his strong language produced at the Tuileries in 1803. He
played a game of finesse hardly safe in the face of men like Godoy,
Talleyrand, and Napoleon, whose finesse was chiefly used to cover
force, and was not betrayed or derided by factious opposition in the
press. Besides being unsafe, it was unfair to himself. Jefferson was an
honest man, and in putting on the outward appearance of a Talleyrand,
he resembled an amateur imitating Talma and Garrick. Gestures and tones
alike were unnatural, awkward, and false; they exposed him to ridicule.
If President Jefferson had taken the public into his confidence,
he would have told the people that under no circumstances would he
consent to war; but that if the great Powers of Europe combined to
injure America, she would close her ports, abandon her commerce, shut
herself within her own continent, and let the world outside murder
and rob elsewhere. Such an avowal implied no disgrace; the policy it
proclaimed was the alternative to war; and as the radical doctrine of
the Republican party, the course was not only that which Jefferson
meant to take, but it was that which he took. The avowal might have
invited aggression, and have been followed by failure; but he would
have done better to fail on a direct issue of principle, than to fail
after evading the issue until the issue itself was lost.

To carry out his scheme, the President put forward two policies,--a
public and a secret; or, as he called it, an ostensible and a real one.
The warlike recommendations of the Annual Message were the public
and ostensible policy; the real one was to be expressed in a secret
message, announced in advance. To this coming message the President
next turned his attention; but he found himself quickly involved in
complications of his own creating. He had not only to recommend a
double series of measures to Congress, but he had to frame a double
series of replies which Congress was to return to him. He tried at
first to combine the two answers in one. After writing a secret message
asking for money to buy Florida, he drafted a series of Resolutions[96]
which Congress was to adopt in reply to both messages at once, and
in which “the citizens of the United States, by their Senate and
Representatives in Congress assembled, do pledge their lives and
fortunes” to maintain the line of the Sabine and the free navigation
of the Mobile, pending negotiations, while the President should be
authorized to take whatever unappropriated moneys might lie in the
Treasury in order to carry these Resolutions into effect.

Clearly this would not do; and Gallatin undertook to set the matter
right.

   “The apparent difficulty in framing the Resolutions,” he wrote
   to the President,[97] “arises from the attempt to blend the
   three objects together. The same reasons which have induced the
   President to send two distinct messages render it necessary
   that the public Resolutions of Congress should be distinct from
   the private ones; that those which relate to the war posture of
   the Spanish affairs, which are intended to express the national
   sense on that subject, and to enable the President to take the
   steps which appear immediately necessary on the frontier, should
   not be mixed with those proceedings calculated only to effect an
   accommodation.”

The Secretary of the Treasury frequently corrected his chief, and still
more frequently hinted a correction. Only a few days had passed since
Jefferson had spoken to Gallatin of the “strong language toward Spain”
as “meant to produce an effect at the Tuileries.” Gallatin ignored this
object, and spoke of the strong language toward Spain as intended to
express the national sense, and as restricted in its bearing to the
steps immediately necessary for protecting the frontier. The difference
was worth noting. Evidently Gallatin felt no great confidence in
producing an effect on the Tuileries.

   “The course now recommended,” he continued, “is precisely that
   which was followed in the Louisiana business when the deposit
   was withdrawn. A public Resolution ... was moved by Randolph,
   and adopted by the House. A committee in the mean while brought
   in a confidential report sufficient to support and justify
   the President in the purchase he was going to attempt, and to
   this an appropriation law in very general terms was added. To
   follow a similar course appears not only best, but will also,
   as founded on precedent, be the smoothest mode of doing the
   business in Congress.”

The President adopted Gallatin’s suggestions.[98] The double messages
breathing war and peace were prepared. The double answers were sketched
out. Congress had only to act with the same quickness and secrecy which
it had shown in the Louisiana business; and of its readiness to do so,
no one in the Cabinet seemed to doubt.

Yet nations could not so readily as individuals swing about on a course
opposite to that which they had been led to expect. The American
public had been wrought to anger against Spain. Of the negotiations
little was publicly known. Monroe had come, and gone; the Marquis
Yrujo had remonstrated, and had written in newspapers; but the rights
and wrongs of the Spanish dispute remained a mystery to the public at
large, which knew only that Spain had rejected all the offers made by
the United States, had resumed her depredations on American commerce,
and had taken a menacing attitude at Mobile and on the Sabine.
Throughout the year the Republican press had followed hints from the
Government at Washington, all looking toward a rupture with Spain. The
same newspapers had shown at first a wish to make light of the late
British seizures,--a course which misled the Federalist press into
denunciations of England such as would never have been risked had the
party in power not seemed disposed to apologize for England’s conduct.
The country at large was prepared to hear the President advise a
rupture with Spain, and upon that rupture to found his hope of success
in negotiating with Pitt. The warlike tone of the Annual Message was
certain to give additional strength to this expectation; and Jefferson
might have foreseen that the sudden secret change of tone to be taken
immediately afterward in the special message on Spanish affairs would
produce bewilderment among his followers.

No one could doubt where the confusion would first appear. The last
session had ended in a series of quarrels, in which party distinctions
had been almost forgotten. The summer had done nothing to reunite
the factions; on the contrary, it had done much to widen the breach.
Already the “Aurora” announced that the Yazoo question was to determine
“the relations, the principles, the characters, and the strength of
parties in the next session of Congress;” and the public knew that
the Yazoo question had passed beyond the stage of rational argument,
and had become the test of personal devotion, the stepping-stone to
favor or proscription with the next President. Three years before the
election of 1808 Congress was already torn by a Virginia feud,--a
struggle for power between John Randolph and James Madison.

As though to hurry and prolong this struggle, Jefferson announced,
after his second inauguration, that he should retire at the close of
his term, March 4, 1809. Without expressly recommending Madison as his
successor, his strong personal attachment insured to the Secretary of
State the whole weight of Executive influence. The whole weight was
needed. The secretary, with all his amiable qualities, was very far
from controlling the voice of Virginia. His strength lay rather among
the Northern democrats, semi-Federalists, or “Yazoo men,” as they
were called, who leaned toward him because he, of all the prominent
Virginians, was least Virginian. His diplomatic triumph in buying
Louisiana had given him an easy advantage over his rivals; but even his
reputation might sink with the failure of the Spanish treaty and the
aggression of England.

No one who knew the men, or who had followed the course of President
Jefferson’s first Administration, could feel surprise that Madison’s
character should act on John Randolph as an irritant. Madison was
cautious, if not timid; Randolph was always in extremes. Madison was
apt to be on both sides of the same question, as when he wrote the
“Federalist” and the Virginia Resolutions of 1798; Randolph pardoned
dalliance with Federalism in no one but himself. Madison was in person
small, retiring, modest, with quiet malice in his humor, and with
marked taste for closet politics and delicate management; Randolph
was tall in stature, abrupt in manner, self-asserting in temper,
sarcastic, with a pronounced taste for publicity, and a vehement
contempt for those silent influences which more practical politicians
called legitimate and necessary, but which Randolph, when he could
not control them, called corrupt. Jefferson soon remarked, in regard
to what Randolph denounced as back-stairs influence, “We never heard
this while the declaimer was himself a back-stairs man.”[99] Just as
the criticism was, no one could deny that Randolph seemed much out of
place on the back-stairs of the White House, whereas Madison seemed
to him in place nowhere else. The Spanish papers, which Randolph must
read, were not likely to increase his respect for the Secretary of
State; while Madison’s candidacy made a counter-movement necessary for
those Virginians who would not be dragged at the heels of the Northern
democracy.

Long before the month of December Randolph foresaw the coming trouble.
The Yazoo men in the Ninth Congress were more numerous than ever; and
they were credited with the wish to eject Speaker Macon from the chair,
and to put some Northern democrat in Randolph’s place at the head of
the Committee of Ways and Means. Oct. 25, 1805, Randolph wrote to
Gallatin from Bizarre:--

   “I look forward to the ensuing session of Congress with no very
   pleasant feelings. To say nothing of the disadvantages of the
   place, natural as well as acquired, I anticipate a plentiful
   harvest of bickering and blunders; of which, however, I hope
   to be a quiet, if not an unconcerned, spectator.... I regret
   exceedingly Mr. Jefferson’s resolution to retire, and almost
   as much the premature annunciation of that determination. It
   almost precludes a revision of his purpose, to say nothing
   of the intrigues which it will set on foot. If I were sure
   that Monroe would succeed him, my regret would be very much
   diminished.”[100]

Intrigue and dissension could not be confined to the House, but must
spread to the Senate, and could hardly fail to affect even the Cabinet.
While Gallatin’s personal sympathies were with Madison, his political
bias was on the opposite side. The old Republicans, with John Randolph
at their head, had steadily protected the Treasury from jobs and
extravagance; without their help Gallatin would lie at the mercy of
the Northern democrats, who were not behind the Federalists in their
willingness to spend money. He might expect an alliance between the
Northern democrats and the Smith faction which controlled the Navy
Department. To such a combination he must have foreseen that Madison
would yield.

In the face of such latent feuds nothing could be more hazardous than
to spring upon Congress, in Madison’s interests, a new, tortuous,
complicated Spanish policy, turning on the secret assurance that France
could be bribed with five million dollars, at the moment when Congress
would be required to begin a commercial war upon England. Whether
Madison was responsible for these measures or not, his enemies would
charge him with the responsibility; and even without such attacks from
his own party, he was struggling with enemies enough to have crushed
Jefferson himself.

Early in December, all the actors in the drama assembled, to play
another act in a tragi-comedy of increasing interest. With his
old sanguine hopes, but not with all his old self-confidence, the
President watched them slowly arrive,--Democrats, Federalists, Southern
Republicans, all equally ignorant of what had been done, and what
they were expected to do; but more curious, better-informed, and more
sharp-sighted than these, the three diplomatists, Turreau, Merry,
and Yrujo, waiting with undisguised contempt to see what species of
coercion was to be employed against England, France, and Spain.

To impose on hostile forces and interests the compulsion of a single
will was the task and triumph of the true politician, which had
been accomplished, under difficult conditions, by men of opposite
characters. A political leader might be combative and despotic, or
pliant and conciliatory. The method mattered little, provided it
obtained success,--but success depended more on character than on
manœuvres. In the winter of 1805–1806 President Jefferson dealt with
a problem such as few Americans have been required to solve. Other
Presidents have met with violent opposition both within and without
the ranks of their party; but no other President has been obliged to
face a hostile minority, together with violent factiousness in the
majority, and at the same time a spirit of aggression showing itself
in acts of war from three of the greatest Powers of Europe. By what
resources of skill or character President Jefferson was to restrain
this disorder from becoming chaos, only a prophet could foretell. If
ever the Federalist “crisis” seemed close at hand, it was in December,
1805. Some energetic impulse could alone save the country from drifting
into faction at home and violence abroad.

All might go well if England, France, and Spain could be obliged to
respect law. To restrain these three governments was Jefferson’s most
urgent need. The three envoys waited to see what act of energy he would
devise to break through the net which had been drawn about him. Turreau
enjoyed most of his confidence; and soon after the meeting of Congress,
at the time when Jefferson was publicly using “strong language toward
Spain,” meant to produce an effect at the Tuileries, Turreau wrote
interesting accounts of his private conversation for the guidance of
Talleyrand and Napoleon;[101]--

   “One may perhaps draw some inferences in regard to the true
   sense of the Message from some words which escaped the President
   in a private conversation with me. ‘I see with pain,’ he
   said, ‘that our people have a tendency toward commerce which
   no other kind of interest will be able to balance; we should
   be essentially agricultural, and yet agriculture will never
   be more than a secondary interest here.’... In a preceding
   interview the President invited me to a discussion of Spanish
   affairs.... After some complaints about Spanish privateers,
   and the protection which Spain granted to ours in particular,
   Mr. Jefferson expanded on the griefs of the Americans in
   regard to some excursions of Spanish patrols beyond the limits
   provisionally established, and, in consequence, within the
   territory of Louisiana. I replied that doubtless the Spanish
   government had not authorized these steps, and that the mistakes
   of a few subalterns could not produce serious differences
   between the two Powers. ‘That is true; but,’ he added, ‘these
   Spaniards are so stupid (_bêtes_), their government so
   detested,’ etc. It was not easy to contradict him on this
   point. As for the English, his complaints and reproaches have
   been much more serious. He has assured me that they have taken
   five hundred American ships; that they could not have done
   more harm had they been at war with America; yet that England
   would in vain try, as against the Americans, to destroy neutral
   rights. ‘In that respect,’ added Mr. Jefferson, ‘we have
   _principles_ from which we shall never depart; our people
   have commerce everywhere, and everywhere our neutrality should
   be respected. On the other hand, we do not want war,--and all
   this is very embarrassing.’”

Turreau’s comment on these words may have affected the policy of
Napoleon, as it must certainly have had weight with Talleyrand:--

   “If your Excellency was not already acquainted with the man and
   his government, this last phrase would be enough to enable you
   to judge the one and the other.”




                              CHAPTER VI.


THE Ninth Congress met Dec. 2, 1805. During no period of eight
years did Congress contain a smaller number of remarkable members than
during the two administrations of Jefferson, from 1801 to 1809; and if
the few Federalists in opposition were left out of view, the American
people had in the Ninth Congress hardly a single representative, except
John Randolph, capable of controlling any vote but his own. In the
Senate, when George Clinton took his seat as Vice-President, he saw
before him, among the thirty-four senators, not less than twenty-seven
who belonged to his own party; yet among these twenty-seven Republican
members of the Senate was not one whose name lived. Senator Bradley of
Vermont exercised a certain influence in his day, like Dr. Mitchill of
New York, or Samuel Smith of Maryland, or William B. Giles of Virginia,
or Abraham Baldwin and James Jackson of Georgia. These were the leaders
of the Senate, but they were men whose influence was due more to their
office than to their genius; the Government gave them more weight
than they could give back to it. Breckenridge of Kentucky had become
attorney-general, and his seat was filled by John Adair. In the whole
Senate not a Republican member could be found competent to defend a
difficult financial or diplomatic measure as Gallatin or Madison could
have done it, or would have wished it to be done.

In the House the Administration could count upon equally little
aid. Setting aside John Randolph and Joseph Nicholson, who were
more dangerous than any Federalist of New England to Government,
the huge Republican majority contained no man of note. Its poverty
was startling. Gallatin clung to Randolph as the only member of the
House competent to conduct the public business; and no small part of
Randolph’s arrogance toward his own followers was due to his sense of
intellectual superiority, and to the constant proof that they could do
no business without his aid. Randolph was rarely arrogant in the face
of men whose abilities were superior to his own, or whose will was
stronger; he domineered over those whom he thought his inferiors, but
he liked no contest in which he saw an uncertain hope of victory. In
the Ninth Congress he met no rival in his own party. Massachusetts sent
a new member, from whose oratory much was expected,--a certain Barnabas
Bidwell; “but as a popular speaker he never can stand as the rival of
John Randolph,” was the comment of a Massachusetts senator on listening
to him in the House.[102] New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania were
represented by an almost solid mass of Democrats, without a single
leader. Virginia and the other Southern States sent many men of
excellent character and of the best social position to Washington, but
not one who made a national name or who tried to master the details
of public business. Perhaps the ablest new member was Josiah Quincy
of Boston, whose positive temper, marked abilities, and vehement
Federalism made him troublesome to the majority rather than useful in
legislation.

When the House met, it proceeded at once to the election of a Speaker;
and the old feuds of the last session broke out again. Fifty-four
votes were required to elect; and on the first ballot Macon had but
fifty-one. Twenty-seven Republicans voted for Joseph B. Varnum of
Massachusetts, besides others who threw away their votes on candidates
from Virginia and Pennsylvania. Only at the third ballot did Macon get
a majority, and even then he received but fifty-eight votes, while the
full strength of his party was more than one hundred. His first act was
to reappoint Randolph and Nicholson on the Ways and Means Committee,
where a place was also given to Josiah Quincy.

The President’s Message was read December 3, and produced the effect to
be expected. The country received it with applause as a proof of vigor.
In Baltimore, and along the seaboard, it was regarded as equivalent
to a declaration of war against Spain; it stopped trade, raised
insurance, and encouraged piracy. The Federalist press throughout
the country, except the “Evening Post,” affected to admire and praise
it. “Federalism revived!” said the bitter “Washington Federalist;”
“dignified, firm, and spirited.” “This day we have been astonished,”
wrote a correspondent to the “Boston Centinel;”[103] “the President’s
speech is, in principle, almost wholly on the Washington and Adams
system. It has puzzled the Federalists and offended many of the
Democrats. It is in perfect nonconformity to all the former professions
of the party.” The Federalists exaggerated their applause in order to
irritate John Randolph and his friends, who could not fail to see that
the Message strengthened Madison at the expense of the old Republicans.
Jefferson’s private language was not less energetic than his public
message. Among the favorite ideas which the President urged was that
of claiming for America the ocean as far as the Gulf Stream, and
forbidding hostilities within the line of deep-sea soundings.[104] One
of the Massachusetts senators to whom he argued this doctrine inquired
whether it might not be well, before assuming a claim so broad, to wait
for a time when the Government should have a force to maintain it. The
President replied by insisting that the Government, “should squint at
it;”[105] and he lost no chance of doing so. He assured his friends
that no privateer would ever again be permitted to cruise within the
Gulf Stream.[106]

Such an attitude, public and private, roused much interest. Congress
waited anxiously for the promised special message on Spanish affairs,
and did not wait long. December 6, only three days after the Annual
Message was sent in, the special and secret message followed; the House
closed its doors, and the members listened eagerly to a communication
which they expected to be, what it actually was, a turning-point in
their politics.

The Message[107] very briefly narrated the story of the unratified
claims convention, ending in Monroe’s diplomatic misfortunes, and
announced that the Spaniards showed every intention of advancing from
Texas, until they should be repressed by force.

   “Considering that Congress alone is constitutionally invested
   with the power of changing our condition from peace to war, I
   have thought it my duty to await their authority for using force
   in any degree which could be avoided. I have barely instructed
   the officers stationed in the neighborhood of the aggressions
   to protect our citizens from violence, to patrol within the
   borders actually delivered to us, and not to go out of them but
   when necessary to repel an inroad or to rescue a citizen or his
   property.”

Passing next to the conduct of Napoleon, the Message mentioned the
decided part taken by France against the United States on every point
of the Spanish dispute,--

   “her silence as to the Western boundary leaving us to infer
   her opinion might be against Spain in that quarter. Whatever
   direction she might mean to give to these differences, it does
   not appear that she has contemplated their proceeding to actual
   rupture, or that at the date of our last advices from Paris her
   Government had any suspicion of the hostile attitude Spain had
   taken here. On the contrary, we have reason to believe that she
   was disposed to effect a settlement on a plan analogous to what
   our ministers had proposed, and so comprehensive as to remove as
   far as possible the grounds of future collision and controversy
   on the eastern as well as western side of the Mississippi.
   The present crisis in Europe is favorable for pressing such
   a settlement, and not a moment should be lost in availing
   ourselves of it. Should it pass unimproved, our situation would
   become much more difficult. Formal war is not necessary, it is
   not probable it will follow; but the protection of our citizens,
   the spirit and honor of our country, require that force should
   be interposed to a certain degree. It will probably contribute
   to advance the object of peace. But the course to be pursued
   will require the command of means which it belongs to Congress
   exclusively to yield or to deny. To them I communicate every
   fact material for their information, and the documents necessary
   to enable them to judge for themselves. To their wisdom, then, I
   look for the course I am to pursue, and will pursue with sincere
   zeal that which they shall approve.”

After the reading of this Message the House was more perplexed than
ever. The few Federalists sneered. The warlike tone of the Annual
Message, contradicting their theory of Jefferson’s character, had
already ended, as they believed, in surrender. John Randolph was angry.
He felt that the President had assumed, for Madison’s political profit,
the tone of public bravado toward England and Spain, while Congress
was required to overrule Madison’s bold policy and to impose on the
country what would seem a crouching cowardice of its own. The Message
was at once referred to a special committee of seven members, with
Randolph at its head, his friend Nicholson second in the number, John
Cotton Smith, a vigorous Federalist, coming third; while, whether the
Speaker intended it or not, the only person in the committee on whom
the President could depend for useful service was Barnabas Bidwell, the
new member from Massachusetts. Bidwell’s conversion from Federalism was
but recent, and neither his Federalism nor his democracy was of a kind
that Randolph loved.

To this point the Louisiana precedent was closely followed, and
Randolph seemed to have no excuse for refusing to do in 1805 what he
had done in 1802; yet nothing could be surer than that the Randolph
of 1805 was a very different man from the Randolph of three years
before, as the Republican party of 1805 widely differed from the party
which first elected Jefferson to the Presidency. No double-dealing,
hesitation, or concealment was charged against Randolph. According to
his own story, he called upon the President immediately, and learned,
not without some surprise, that an appropriation of two millions was
wanted to purchase Florida. He told the President without reserve “that
he would never agree to such a measure, because the money had not been
asked for in the Message; that he could not consent to shift upon his
own shoulders or those of the House the proper responsibility of the
Executive; but that even if the money had been explicitly demanded,
he should have been averse to granting it, because, after the total
failure of every attempt at negotiation, such a step would disgrace us
forever,”--with much more to the same effect, which was mildly combated
by Jefferson.[108]

The next day, December 7, the committee met, and Randolph, as he
probably expected, found that Bidwell alone intended to support the
Administration. Bidwell did not venture to act as the direct mouthpiece
of the President, but undertook on his own authority to construe the
Message as a demand for money, and proposed a grant to that effect.
The rest of the committee gravely followed Randolph in professing to
find no such meaning in the Message; Bidwell’s motion had no supporter,
and was promptly overruled. Jefferson’s labored Resolutions, which
Nicholson carried in his pocket for the committee to adopt, were
suppressed; Nicholson returned them the next day to Gallatin, with a
brief expression of his own decided disapproval.[109]

The committee separated, not to meet again for a fortnight; but during
the following week Randolph had several interviews with the President
and Secretary of State. Madison told him “that France would not permit
Spain to adjust her differences with us; that France wanted money, and
that we must give it to her, or have a Spanish and French war.”[110]
If Madison said this he told the truth. Randolph made an unfair use
of the confidential words; for he proclaimed them as his excuse for
declaring a public and personal war on the Secretary of State, which he
waged thenceforward in a temper and by means so revolting as in the end
to throw the sympathies of every unprejudiced man on the side of his
victim.

   “From the moment I heard that declaration,” said Randolph
   afterward, “all the objections I originally had to the procedure
   were aggravated to the highest possible degree. I considered
   it a base prostration of the national character to excite one
   nation by money to bully another nation out of its property;
   and from that moment, and to the last moment of my life, my
   confidence in the principles of the man entertaining those
   sentiments died, never to live again.”

These words would have carried more conviction had Randolph’s quarrel
with Madison not been of much older date. In truth he wanted a means
to break down the secretary’s chance of election as President, and
he thought to find it here. As he said openly in Congress and in the
press, “his confidence in the Secretary of State had never been very
high, but now it was gone forever.”[111]

The serious charge against Madison was one which Madison alone could
reveal. Down to October 23 he had held Randolph’s view and had
protested against turning the Spanish negotiation into a French job. He
could hardly blame Randolph for adhering to an opinion which had been
held by President and Cabinet until within a few weeks, when they had
abandoned it without explanation or excuse.

Stubbornly refusing to act, Randolph, December 14, mounted his horse
and rode to Baltimore, leaving the President for the moment helpless.
Every hour’s delay shook party discipline, and imperilled Armstrong’s
success. The President appealed to Nicholson; but Nicholson also
disliked the intended policy, and could be persuaded to use his
influence only so far as would enable the committee to act, with the
understanding that its action would be adverse to the President’s
wishes. Although the situation was still secret, it threatened to
become scandalous, and soon became so altogether.

December 21 Randolph returned. As he dismounted at the Capitol, he was
received by Nicholson, who told him of the irritation which his delay
had caused. The committee was instantly called together. As Randolph
went to the committee-room he was met by Gallatin, who put into his
hands a paper headed, “Provision for the purchase of Florida.” Although
Gallatin’s relations with Randolph were friendly, they did not save
the Secretary of the Treasury from a sharp rebuff. Randolph broke out
roughly; he would not vote a shilling for the purchase of Florida; the
President should not be allowed to throw upon Congress the odium “of
delivering the public purse to the first cut-throat that demanded it;”
on the record the Executive would appear as recommending manly and
vigorous measures, while Congress would appear as having forced him to
abandon them, when in fact it was acting all the while at Executive
instigation; “I do not understand this double set of opinions and
principles,--the one ostensible, the other real: I hold true wisdom
and cunning to be utterly incompatible.” With this sweeping censure of
President, Cabinet, and party, Randolph turned his back on Gallatin
and walked to the committee-room. There he had no trouble in carrying
matters with a high hand. Instead of recommending an appropriation, the
committee instructed Randolph to write to the Secretary of War asking
his opinion what force was needed to protect the Southern frontier.

Christmas was then at hand, and not a step had yet been taken. Unless
the spirit of faction could be crushed, not only was the fate of
Madison sealed, but the career of Jefferson himself must end in
failure. Nothing could be done with Randolph, who in a final interview
at the White House, flatly declared “that he too had a character
to support and principles to maintain,” and avowed his determined
opposition to the whole scheme of buying Florida of France. Jefferson,
little as he liked to quarrel, accepted the challenge. Negotiations
then ceased, and a party schism began.

If Randolph could not be overcome in debate, he might at least be
overborne by numbers; if the best part of the old Republican party
went with him, the rank and file of Northern and Western democrats
would remain to support the Administration. Once more the committee was
called together. Bidwell moved to appropriate two millions for foreign
relations; the majority rejected his motion and adopted a report
echoing the warlike tone of the President’s public message, and closing
with a Resolution to raise troops for the defence of the Southern
frontier “from Spanish inroad and insult, and to chastise the same.”
This report was laid before the House by Randolph Jan. 3, 1806, when
two additional Resolutions were immediately moved,--one appropriating
money for extraordinary expenses in foreign intercourse, the other
continuing the Mediterranean Fund for a new term of years; and the
three Resolutions were referred to the House in Committee of the Whole,
with closed doors.

Monday, Jan. 6, 1806, the debate began; and throughout the following
week the House sat in secret session, while Randolph strained every
nerve to break the phalanx of democrats which threatened to overwhelm
him. Perpetually on the floor, he declaimed against the proposed
negotiation at Paris; while Nicholson, unwillingly consenting to vote
for the two millions, said openly that he hoped in God the negotiation
would fail. When at length a vote could be reached, the Administration
carried its point,--seventy-two members supporting the President,
against a minority of fifty-eight; but in this minority was included
no small number of the most respectable Republicans. Twelve of the
twenty-two Virginia members broke away from the President; and for the
first time in a struggle vital to Jefferson’s credit, more than half
the majority consisted of Northern men.

The House having recovered control of the matter, thrust Randolph
aside, rapidly passed a Bill appropriating two million dollars for
extraordinary expenses in foreign relations, and Jan. 16, 1806, sent
it to the Senate by a vote of seventy-six to fifty-four. It was
accompanied by a secret message explaining that the money was intended
for the purchase of Spanish territory east of the Mississippi. The
Senate closed its doors, and with the least possible debate, Feb. 7,
1806, passed the bill, which, February 13, received the President’s
approval. Not until March 13,[112] six months after Armstrong’s
despatch had been written, did Madison at length send to Paris a
public authority for Armstrong to offer France five million dollars for
Florida and Texas to the Colorado,--an authority which should have been
secret and prompt, to be worth sending at all.

Jefferson carried his point; he won a victory over Randolph, and
silenced open resistance within the party; but his success was gained
at a cost hitherto unknown in his experience. The men who were most
obedient in public to his will growled in private almost as fiercely
as Randolph himself. Senator Bradley made no secret of his disgust.
Senator Anderson of Tennessee frankly said that he wished the Devil
had the Bill; that the opposition did not half know how bad it was;
that it was the most pernicious measure Jefferson had ever taken;
“but so it was, so he would have it, and so it must be!”[113] Three
Republican Senators--Bradley, Logan, and Mitchill--absented themselves
at the final vote; four more--Adair, Gilman, Stone, and Sumter--voted
against the Bill, which on its third reading obtained only seventeen
voices in its favor against eleven in opposition. Worse than this,
the malcontents felt that for the first time in the history of their
party the whip of Executive power had been snapped over their heads;
and, worst of all, the New England Federalists took for granted that
Jefferson had become a creature of Napoleon. Of all political ideas
that could gain a lodgment in the public mind, this last was the most
fatal!

That either Jefferson or Madison was led by French sympathies has been
shown to be untrue. Both of them submitted to the violence of all the
belligerents alike, and their eagerness for Florida caused them by
turns to flatter and to threaten Spain, France, and England; but not
even for the sake of Florida would they have taken either a direct or
an indirect part with France. Their unwillingness to offend Napoleon
rose not from sympathy with him, but from the conviction that he alone
could give Florida to the United States without the expense and losses
inevitable in a war. Unhappily the public knew little of what President
Jefferson had done or was doing; and another piece of legislation,
carried through Congress at the same moment with the “Two-million Act,”
went far to fix the Federalists in their belief that the Administration
obeyed the beck and call of the French Emperor.

The Annual Message made no allusion to St. Domingo; no public
announcement had been given that the Executive wished for further
legislation in regard to its trade, when, Dec. 18, 1805, Senator
Logan of Pennsylvania brought forward a Bill to prohibit the trade
altogether. That he acted without concert with Madison was not to be
conceived. Logan privately admitted as his only object the wish of
enabling Madison to tell the French government that the trade was
forbidden, and that the merchants who carried it on did so at their
own peril.[114] The Federalist senators opposed the Bill, and were
joined by several Republicans. General Smith and Dr. Mitchill spoke
against it. The opposition showed that the measure would sacrifice
several hundred thousand dollars of revenue; that it would close the
last opening which the new British policy left for American commerce
with the West Indies; that it would throw the commerce with St. Domingo
wholly into British hands; that it was an attempt to carry out French
objects by American legislation, which would endanger the property and
lives of American citizens in the island; and finally, that it was
done in obedience to Napoleon’s orders. December 27 the Senate called
for the diplomatic correspondence on the subject, and the President
communicated the extraordinary notes in which Talleyrand and Turreau
declared that the commerce “must” not continue. The Senate received
this mandate without protest or remonstrance; and after a long debate
passed the Bill, Feb. 20, 1806, by a party vote of twenty-one to eight.
Of the twenty-seven Republican senators, Stone of North Carolina alone
voted against it. Amid execrations against the Haytian negroes, the
Bill was next forced through the House almost without debate, and Feb.
28, 1806, received the President’s signature.

This law,[115] limited to one year, declared that any American vessel
“which shall be voluntarily carried, or shall be destined to proceed”
to St. Domingo should be wholly forfeited, ship and cargo. Passed in
consequence of Napoleon’s positive order, communicated by the President
to Congress as though to overawe objection, the Act violated the
principles of international law, sacrificed the interests of Northern
commerce, strained the powers of the Constitution as formerly construed
by the party of States-rights, and, taken in all its relations, might
claim distinction among the most disgraceful statutes ever enacted by
the United States government. Nevertheless, this measure, which bore
on its face the birth-mark of Napoleonic features, did in fact owe its
existence chiefly to a different parentage. In truth, the Southern
States dreaded the rebel negroes of Hayti more than they feared
Napoleon. Fear often made them blind to their own attitudes; in this
instance it made them indifferent to the charge of servility to France.
The opportunity to declare the negroes of Hayti enemies of the human
race was too tempting to be rejected; and not only did the Southern
Republicans eagerly seize it, but they persuaded their Northern allies
to support them. John Randolph himself, though then wearying the House
day after day with cries that Madison had sold the honor of the United
States to France, never alluded to this act of subservience, which
would have made any other Administration infamous, and quietly absented
himself at the vote, that he might seem neither to obey Bonaparte’s
mandate nor to oppose the Bill. Of the twenty-six voices against it,
nearly all were Federalists; yet in this curious list, side by side
with Josiah Quincy, Samuel Dana, and John Cotton Smith, stood the
names of Jacob Crowninshield and Matthew Lyon, democrats of the deepest
dye and objects of John Randolph’s bitterest sneers.

The “Two-million Act” and the Act forbidding commerce with St. Domingo
were measures equally necessary for the success of the Florida
purchase. Without conciliating Napoleon at St. Domingo, Jefferson
could not expect his help at Paris. These measures, together with some
appearance of military activity, completed the Executive scheme of
foreign policy in regard to France and Spain; the more difficult task
remained of dealing with England.

When the first news of Sir William Scott’s decision in the case of the
“Essex” arrived in America, the merchants were indignant; and their
anger steadily rose as the confiscation of American ships became more
general, until at length, in December, 1805, Stephen’s pamphlet, “War
in Disguise,” arrived, and was reprinted in the newspapers. By the
close of the year 1805 no one could longer doubt that Great Britain
had, so far as suited her purposes, declared war against the United
States.

The issue was simple. The United States might make war in return, or
submit. Any measure short of open hostilities had unquestionably been
taken into Pitt’s account, and would produce no effect on his policy.
War alone could move him from his purpose; but war would destroy
American commerce and ruin Federalist resources, while any retaliation
short of war would not only prove ineffective, but would injure the
American merchants alone. Their dilemma was so unavoidable that they
could not fail to be caught in it. George Cabot saw their danger
from the first. Much against his will the merchants of Boston placed
him upon a committee to draw a remonstrance to Congress against the
British doctrine of neutral trade. “Our friend Cabot,” wrote Fisher
Ames,[116] “is much, too much, mortified that he is one of them. He
hates hypocrisy, and respects principles; and he dreads lest the
popular feeling should impel the committee to deny what he believes to
be true, or to ask for what he knows to be mischievous.” The Boston
“Memorial,”[117] drawn by James Lloyd, was as cautious as popular
feeling would tolerate, and asked no action from Government except the
appointment of a special mission to strengthen the hands of Monroe at
London; but Cabot signed it with extreme reluctance, and only with
the understanding that it did not represent his personal views. The
Philadelphia “Memorial” closed with stronger language, suggesting that
war must be the result if Great Britain refused redress. The Baltimore
“Memorial,” drawn by William Pinkney, spoke in strong tones, but
offered no advice. Toward the middle of January, 1806, these memorials,
together with others, were sent to Congress by the President, with
a Message inviting the Legislature to take the matter in hand, but
offering no opinion as to the proper course to pursue.[118]

The fears of George Cabot were quickly justified. He chiefly dreaded
the theories of the Republican party, which in his opinion were more
destructive to American commerce than the British doctrines themselves
or the demands of James Stephen. Jefferson and Madison were bent on
testing the theory of the first Inaugural Address,--that commerce was
the handmaid of agriculture; but in the harshest application of the
slave-code of South Carolina or Georgia such treatment as agriculture
proposed to her handmaid would have been rejected as inhuman, for it
was a slow torture.

The theory of peaceable coercion, on which Jefferson relied, had
often been explained as a duel in which either side counted upon
exhausting its opponent by injuring itself. As Madison once said of
the British manufacturers: “There are three hundred thousand souls
who live by our custom: let them be driven to poverty and despair,
and what will be the consequence?” The question was more easily asked
than answered, for in the actual condition of Europe economical laws
were so violently disturbed that no man could venture to guess what
fresh extravagance might result from new delirium; but while the three
hundred thousand Englishmen were starving, three hundred thousand
Americans would lose the profit on their crops, and would idly look
at empty warehouses and rotting ships. English laborers had for many
generations been obliged to submit to occasional suffering; Americans
were untrained to submission. Granting that the Boston merchant, like
the injured Brahmin, should seat himself at the door of the British
offender, and slowly fast to death in order that his blood might stain
the conscience of Pitt, he could not be certain that Pitt’s conscience
would be stimulated by the sacrifice, for the conscience of British
Tories as regarded the United States had been ever languid. Cabot saw
no real alternative between submission to Great Britain and the entire
sacrifice of American commerce. He preferred submission.

The subject in all its bearings quickly came before Congress. Jan.
15, 1806, the Senate referred to a special committee that part of the
President’s Message which related to the British seizures. February
5, General Smith reported on behalf of the committee a series of
Resolutions denouncing these seizures as an encroachment on national
independence, and recommending the prohibition of British woollens,
linens, silks, glass-wares, and a long list of other articles. On this
Resolution the debate began, and soon waxed hot.




                             CHAPTER VII.


NOTHING in Jefferson’s life was stranger to modern ideas
of politics than the secrecy which as President he succeeded in
preserving. For two months the people of the United States saw their
representatives go day after day into secret session, but heard not a
whisper of what passed in conclave. Angry as Randolph was, and eager as
the Federalists were to make mischief, they revealed not even to the
senators or the foreign ministers what was passing in the House; and
the public at large, under their democratic government, knew no more
than Frenchmen of their destinies of war and peace. Such a state of
things was contrary to the best traditions of the Republican party: it
could not last, but it could end only in explosion.

When the debate on Smith’s non-importation Resolutions began in the
Senate February 12, the previous struggle which had taken place over
the Spanish policy and the “Two-million Act” was still a secret;
Randolph’s schism was unknown beyond the walls of the Capitol; the
President’s scheme of buying West Florida from France after having, as
he maintained, bought it once already, was kept, as he wished, untold.
The world knew only that some mysterious business was afoot; and when
Senator Samuel Smith’s attack on trade began, the public naturally
supposed it to be in some way connected with the measures so long
discussed in secret session.

The President’s attitude became more and more uneasy. Jefferson
disliked and dreaded the point in dispute with England. The Spanish
policy was his own creation, and he looked upon it with such regard
as men commonly bestow upon unappreciated inventions,--he depended on
its success to retrieve defeats elsewhere; but for the very reason
that he exhausted his personal influence to carry the Spanish policy
against opposition, he left British questions to Congress and his
party. Where England was to be dealt with, Madison took the lead which
Jefferson declined. For many years past Madison had been regarded as
the representative of a policy of commercial restriction against Great
Britain. To revive his influence, his speeches and resolutions of
1794[119] were reprinted in the “National Intelligencer” as a guide
for Congress; his pamphlet against the British doctrines of neutral
trade was made a political text-book; while his friends took the lead
in denouncing England and in calling for retaliation. He himself lost
no chance of pressing his views, even upon political opponents. “I had
considerable conversation with Mr. Madison,” wrote one of them February
13, “on the subjects now most important to the public. His system of
proceeding toward Great Britain is to establish permanent commercial
distinctions between her and other nations,--a retaliating navigation
act, and aggravated duties on articles imported from her.”[120] By
his own choice, and in a manner almost defiant of failure, Madison’s
political fortunes were united with the policy of coercing England
through restrictions of trade.

At first much was said of an embargo. Senator Jackson of Georgia, Dec.
20, 1805, declared with his usual vehemence in favor of this measure.
“Not a nation,” said he, “exists which has West Indian colonies but is
more or less dependent on us, and cannot do without us; they must come
to our terms, or starve. On with your embargo, and in nine months they
must lie at your feet!” John Randolph, sure to oppose whatever Madison
wished, also looked with favor on this course. “I would (if anything)
have laid an embargo,” he said.[121] The embargo party at best was
small, and became smaller when toward the close of December, 1805, news
arrived that Admiral Nelson had fought a great naval battle, October
21, against the combined French and Spanish fleets, off Cape Trafalgar,
ending in a victory so complete as to leave England supreme upon the
ocean. The moral effect of Nelson’s triumph was great. Embargo was the
last step before war, and few Americans cared to risk war with England
under any circumstances; with harbors undefended and without an ally
on the ocean, war was rashness which no one would face. Madison’s more
gentle plan of partial restrictions in trade became the Republican
policy.

Even before Senator Samuel Smith reported his Resolutions, February
5, to the Senate, the British minister Merry wrote to his Government
that the members most opposed to commercial restrictions, despairing
of effectual resistance, would endeavor only to limit the number of
articles to be prohibited, and to postpone the date on which the law
should take effect, in order to send a special mission to England and
negotiate an amicable arrangement. Merry added that a special mission
had been under discussion from the first:--

   “But I now learn that it has been, and continues to be, opposed
   by the President, who wishes that Mr. Monroe ... should continue
   to carry on the negotiation alone. Matters, however, being now
   brought to a disagreeable crisis by the clamor of the nation and
   the instigation of the Administration, some of the members of
   the Senate are, I find, endeavoring to engage the rest of their
   body to join them in exercising their constitutional privilege
   of advising the President on the occasion; and that their advice
   to him will be to suspend any step that can have a hostile
   tendency until the experiment has been tried of an extraordinary
   mission.”[122]

Merry was exactly informed as to the fate of General Smith’s
Resolutions even before they had been reported to the Senate.
They were three in number; but only the third, which recommended
non-importation, was drawn by Smith. The first and second, the work
of Senator Adams of Massachusetts, were not wholly welcome either to
the Administration or to the minority. The first declared the British
seizures “an unprovoked aggression,” a “violation of neutral rights,”
and an “encroachment upon national independence.” The second requested
the President to “demand and insist upon” indemnity, and to make some
arrangement about impressments. The first Resolution, although fatal to
future Federalist consistency, was unanimously adopted by the Senate,
February 12, almost without debate,--even Timothy Pickering recording
his opinion that the British government had encroached upon national
independence. The second Resolution was criticised as an attempt at
dictation to the Executive, which would give just cause of offence to
the President. By this argument the Senate was induced to strike out
the words “and insist;” but although the Resolution, thus altered, was
weak, seven Republican senators voted against it as too strong.

The reason of this halting movement had been explained by Merry to
Lord Mulgrave nearly two weeks before. The Senate stumbled over the
important personality of James Monroe. The next Presidential election,
some three years distant, warped the national policy in regard to a
foreign encroachment. Senator Samuel Smith, ambitious to distinguish
himself in diplomacy, having failed to obtain the mission to Paris,
wished the dignity of a special envoy to London, and was supported by
Wilson Cary Nicholas. The friends of Madison were willing to depress
Monroe, whom John Randolph was trying to elevate. Even Mrs. Madison, in
the excitement of electioneering, allowed herself to talk in general
society very slightingly of Monroe;[123] and there were reasons which
made interference from Mrs. Madison peculiarly irritating to Monroe’s
friends.[124] Dr. Logan, the senator from Pennsylvania, while helping
Madison to satisfy Napoleon in regard to St. Domingo, was prominent in
suggesting that it would be well to set Monroe gently aside.[125] This
coalition of Madison, Smith, Logan, and Wilson Cary Nicholas was so
strong as to control the Senate.

The second Resolution was adopted Feb. 14, 1806; and a week afterward,
General Smith and Dr. Mitchill were appointed a committee to carry the
two Resolutions to the White House. Two years later, in response to
Monroe’s complaints, President Jefferson explained how these senators
managed to impose on the Executive a policy of their own.

   “After delivering the Resolutions,” said Jefferson[126] in an
   aggrieved tone, “the committee entered into free conversation,
   and observed that although the Senate could not in form
   recommend any extraordinary mission, yet that as individuals
   there was but one sentiment among them on the measure, and they
   pressed it. I was so much averse to it, and gave them so hard
   an answer, that they felt it and spoke of it. But it did not
   end here. The members of the other House took up the subject
   and set upon me individually, and these the best friends to you
   as well as myself, and represented the responsibility which a
   failure to obtain redress would throw on us both, pursuing a
   conduct in opposition to the opinion of nearly every member of
   the Legislature. I found it necessary at length to yield my own
   opinion to the general sense of the national council, and it
   really seemed to produce a jubilee among them.”

Jefferson saw his most devoted followers waver in their allegiance, and
was reduced to temporize in order to avoid worse evils. General Smith
in the Senate seemed interested in embarrassing him. If Smith could not
be minister to England, he was bent upon becoming minister to France.
Armstrong had challenged attack by his management of American claims
before the French commission, and had written to the French government
an indiscreet letter against a certain claim made by a firm of Nicklin
& Griffith, of Philadelphia. When the President nominated him as
special minister, with Bowdoin, to conduct the new Florida negotiation,
a strong opposition appeared in the Senate, at the head of which was
General Smith. March 17 the vote was taken; the Senate was equally
divided, fifteen to fifteen, and Vice-President Clinton’s voice alone
saved Armstrong from rejection. Had the Senate been left to follow out
its own aims, the President’s authority might perhaps have been shaken,
and a period of faction might have followed; but fortunately for the
President and for the Secretary of State, among the enemies with whom
they had to deal was one whose temper passed the bounds of common-sense.

Until the month of March, 1806, Randolph’s opposition was confined
to Spanish affairs in secret session. The House was even slower than
the Senate to take up the matter of British relations. Dec. 4, 1805,
the subject was referred to the Committee of Ways and Means. Jan. 17,
1806, another message was sent to the same committee; but day after
day passed without bringing a report from Randolph, until Smilie of
Pennsylvania moved to discharge the Committee of Ways and Means in
order to bring the subject before the House in Committee of the Whole.
Randolph was ill and absent when the House, Jan. 29, 1806, decided to
take the matter from his hands.

On the same day Andrew Gregg, a member from Pennsylvania, moved a
Resolution forbidding the importation of all goods the growth or
product or manufacture of Great Britain. Still the House left the
subject without decision or discussion. February 10 Joseph Nicholson
introduced another Resolution, which came probably from Gallatin.
Gregg’s non importation measure would cost the Treasury five million
dollars a year, and Gallatin preferred a less sweeping prohibition.
Even Senator Smith’s scheme was too strong for Nicholson, who pointed
out that coarse woollens, Jamaica rum, Birmingham hardware, and salt
were necessities with which America could not supply herself, nor could
any nation except England supply her. Nicholson’s Resolution prohibited
only such British goods as might be replaced by other nations than
England, or might be produced at home,--manufactures of leather, tin,
brass, hemp, flax, silk; high-priced woollens; woollen hosiery; glass,
silver, and plated ware, paper, pictures, prints,--a formidable list of
articles, which if not, like Jamaica rum, necessary to America, were
essentials to civilized existence.

Other Resolutions were introduced, but those of Gregg and Nicholson
by common consent maintained pre-eminence; and between the policies
marked by them as complete or partial non-importation Congress had
to decide. Although the subject was before the House, the month of
February passed without debate. Not until March 5, 1806, did Gregg call
up his Resolution. In doing so, he made a speech studiously moderate.
He seemed disinclined to defend the carrying-trade, and abstained from
treating the British seizures as cause for war, but rather threw the
weight of his argument on the manifest outrage of impressments; yet
even this he treated as though it were a question of unfriendly fiscal
regulation.

   “I have no apprehension whatever of a war,” he said, “Great
   Britain is too well versed in the business of calculation, and
   too well acquainted with her own interest, to persevere in this
   lawless system at the hazard of losing customers whose annual
   purchases of her manufactures and other merchandise exceeds, I
   believe, thirty millions of dollars.”

Gregg would not endanger peace, but he would say to Great Britain,--

   “in this mild and moderate, though manly and firm, language:
   ‘You have insulted the dignity of our country by impressing
   our seamen and compelling them to fight your battles against
   a Power with whom we are at peace; you have plundered us of
   much property by that predatory war which you authorize to be
   carried on against our commerce. To these injuries, insults,
   and oppression we will submit no longer.... If you persist in
   your hostile measures, if you absolutely refuse acceding to
   any propositions of compromise, we must slacken those bonds of
   friendship by which we have been connected. You must not expect
   hereafter to find us in your market purchasing your manufactures
   to so large an amount.’ This is their vulnerable part; by
   attacking them in their warehouses and workshops, we can reach
   their vitals.”

If Pitt should retaliate, Gregg would go further; he would confiscate
all the private property belonging to British subjects on which
he could lay his hands, treaty stipulations to the contrary
notwithstanding.

The Pennsylvanian contented himself with pacific measures, and his
oratory had the merit of consistency with his party doctrines and
principles; but the democracy of Massachusetts, which would never
understand or obey the theories of Virginia and Pennsylvania, could
not rest content with Gregg’s Quaker ideas.

   “After the course we are now taking,” said Crowninshield,
   “should Britain persist in her captures and in her oppressive
   treatment of our seamen, and refuse to give them up, I would not
   hesitate to meet her in war. But, as I observed before, I do not
   believe Great Britain will go to war. Our trade is too valuable
   to her. She knows, too, that in such an event she will lose
   her eastern provinces; the States of Vermont and Massachusetts
   will ask no other assistance than their own militia to take
   Canada and Nova Scotia. Some of her West Indian islands will
   also fall. She knows also other things. Her subjects own sixteen
   millions of the old public debt of the United States, eight
   millions of the Louisiana stock, and three or four millions bank
   stock, and have private debts to the amount of ten or twelve
   millions,--amounting in the whole to nearly forty millions of
   dollars. Will Great Britain, by going to war, risk her provinces
   and this large amount of property? I think she will not put so
   much to hazard.”

When Crowninshield sat down, John Randolph took the floor. In
Randolph’s long career of oratorical triumphs, no such moment had
offered itself before, or was to occur again. Still in Virginian eyes
the truest and ablest Republican in Congress, the representative of
power and principle, the man of the future, Randolph stood with the
halo of youth, courage, and genius round his head,--a sort of Virginian
Saint Michael, almost terrible in his contempt for whatever seemed to
him base or untrue. He began by saying that he entered on the subject
“manacled, handcuffed, and tongue-tied;” his lips were sealed; he could
but “hobble over the subject as well as his fettered limbs and palsied
tongue would enable him to do it;” and with this preamble he fell upon
Gregg and Crowninshield:[127]--

   “It is mere waste of time to reason with such persons; they
   do not deserve anything like serious refutation. The proper
   arguments for such statesmen are a strait-waistcoat, a dark
   room, water-gruel, and depletion.”

The proposed confiscation of British property called out a sneer at
Crowninshield:--

   “God help you if these are your ways and means for carrying on
   war! if your finances are in the hands of such a chancellor of
   the exchequer! Because a man can take an observation and keep a
   log-book and a reckoning, can navigate a cock-boat to the West
   Indies or the East, shall he aspire to navigate the great vessel
   of State, to stand at the helm of public councils? _Ne sutor
   ultra crepidam!_”

Again and again he turned aside to express contempt for the Northern
democrats:--

   “Shall this great mammoth of the American forest leave his
   native element and plunge into the water in a mad contest with
   the shark? Let him stay on shore, and not be excited by the
   muscles and periwinkles on the strand!”

On the point of policy Randolph took ground which, if not warlike, was
at least consistent,--the ground which all Southern Republicans of the
Jefferson school would have taken, if shame had not withheld them.
Even if determined in the end to submit, the President and Secretary
wished to keep up the form of resistance. Randolph declared that the
form was absurd; he would do nothing to protect “this mushroom, this
fungus of war,”--a carrying-trade which at the first moment of peace
would no longer exist:--

   “I will never consent to go to war for that which I cannot
   protect. I deem it no sacrifice of dignity to say to the
   Leviathan of the deep: We are unable to contend with you in your
   own element; but if you come within our actual limits, we will
   shed our last drop of blood in their defence.”

Had Randolph contented himself with taking this position, he could
not have been overthrown, for he carried with him the secret sympathy
of the Southern Republicans; but he had not the self-control that
was needed in the face of an opponent so pliant and conciliatory
as Jefferson. Randolph took rare pleasure in making enemies, while
Jefferson never made one enemy except to gain two friends. Not
satisfied with attacking Crowninshield and Gregg, Randolph gave full
play to his anger against the whole House, and even assailed the
Executive:--

   “I have before protested, and I again protest, against secret,
   irresponsible, overruling influence. The first question I
   asked when I saw the gentleman’s Resolution was, Is this a
   measure of the Cabinet? Not of an open declared Cabinet, but
   of an invisible, inscrutable, unconstitutional Cabinet,
   without responsibility, unknown to the Constitution. I speak of
   back-stairs influence,--of men who bring messages to this House,
   which, although they do not appear on the Journals, govern its
   decisions. Sir, the first question that I asked on the subject
   of British relations was, What is the opinion of the Cabinet;
   what measures will they recommend to Congress?--well knowing
   that whatever measures we might take they must execute them, and
   therefore that we should have their opinion on the subject. My
   answer was (and from a Cabinet minister too), ‘_There is no
   longer any Cabinet!_’”

Though forbidden to mention what had occurred in secret session,
“manacled, handcuffed, and tongue-tied” as he was, Randolph dragged the
Spanish secret to light:--

   “Like true political quacks, you deal only in handbills and
   nostrums. Sir, I blush to see the record of our proceedings;
   they resemble nothing but the advertisements of patent
   medicines. Here you have ‘the worm-destroying lozenges;’ there
   ‘Church’s cough-drops;’ and to crown the whole, ‘Sloan’s
   vegetable specific,’--an infallible remedy for all nervous
   disorders and vertigoes of brainsick politicians.... And where
   are you going to send your political panacea, resolutions and
   handbills excepted; your sole arcanum of government, your King
   Cure-all? To Madrid? No! you are not such quacks as not to know
   where the shoe pinches. To Paris! You know at least where the
   disease lies, and there you apply your remedy. When the nation
   anxiously demands the result of your deliberations, you hang
   your head and blush to tell. You are afraid to tell!”

Randolph next attacked Madison. He took up the secretary’s late
pamphlet and overwhelmed its argument with contempt. He declared that
France was the real enemy of America; that England was acting under
the dictates of necessity; that the situation of Europe had completely
changed since 1793, and that England occupied the place which France
then held: “she is the sole bulwark of the human race against universal
dominion,--no thanks to her for it!” As for a policy, he proposed to
abandon commerce and to amputate mercantile interests:--

   “I can readily tell gentlemen what I will not do. I will not
   propitiate any foreign nation with money. I will not launch into
   a naval war with Great Britain.... I will send her money on
   no pretext whatever; much less on pretence of buying Labrador
   or Botany Bay, when my real object was to secure limits which
   she formally acknowledged at the Peace of 1783. I go further:
   I would, if anything, have laid an embargo; this would have
   got our own property home, and our adversary’s into our power.
   If there is any wisdom left among us, the first step toward
   hostility will always be an embargo. In six months all your
   mercantile megrims would vanish. As to us, although it would cut
   deep, we can stand it.”

Before closing this desultory harangue, the orator once more turned to
taunt the President:--

   “Until I came into the House this morning, I had been
   stretched on a sick bed; but when I behold the affairs of
   this nation--instead of being where I hoped, and the people
   believed they were, in the hands of responsible men--committed
   to Tom, Dick, and Harry, to the refuse of the retail trade of
   politics, I do feel, I cannot help feeling, the most deep and
   serious concern.... I know, sir, that we may say, and do say,
   that we are independent (would it were true!), as free to give
   a direction to the Executive as to receive it from him; but
   do what you will, foreign relations, every measure short of
   war, and even the course of hostilities, depends upon him. He
   stands at the helm, and must guide the vessel of State. You
   give him money to buy Florida, and he purchases Louisiana. You
   may furnish means; the application of those means rests with
   him. Let not the master and mate go below when the ship is in
   distress, and throw the responsibility upon the cook and the
   cabin-boy! I said so when your doors were shut; I scorn to say
   less now they are open. Gentlemen may say what they please; they
   may put an insignificant individual to the ban of the republic:
   I shall not alter my course.”

That such a speech from a man so necessary to the Government should
throw consternation among the majority, was a matter of course. No such
event had ever happened in Congress as the public rebellion of a great
party leader. The Federalists had quarrelled as bitterly, but had made
no such scandal. Yet serious as Randolph’s defection might be, it would
have done little harm had it not been that in denouncing the course
taken by Jefferson and Madison he had much secret sympathy. Nay, as
regarded Gregg’s Resolution, he expressed the feelings of the President
himself and of the Cabinet. The so-called resistance to England, like
the resistance to Spain, was a sham, and all parties agreed with
Randolph in opposing serious retaliation.

Nothing was needed but that Randolph should keep his temper in order
to win a triumph. Napoleon could be trusted to give Jefferson no more
provinces at any price, for within a few days after Randolph’s outbreak
news arrived that the battle of Austerlitz had been fought, and the
Treaty of Pressburg signed. Jefferson himself could be trusted to
prevent Gregg’s Resolution from passing, for the news that Pitt was
dead and Fox in power arrived almost at the same moment with that of
Austerlitz. The entire situation had changed; an entirely new policy
must be invented, and this could hardly fail to follow Randolph’s
ideas. He had only to wait; but meanwhile he was consumed by a fever
of rage and arrogance. Thinking that the time had come to destroy
the Secretary of State, he set himself vigorously to the task. Day
after day he occupied the floor, attacking Madison with more and more
virulence. He insisted that “the business from first to last had been
managed in the most imbecile manner.”

   “I do not speak of the negotiator [Monroe]--God forbid!--but
   of those who drew the instruction of the man who negotiated.
   We bought Louisiana from France under the terms of the Treaty
   of San Ildefonso. According to the Executive understanding,
   that country extended to the Perdido and the River Bravo.
   We immediately legislated on our first claim and passed a
   law erecting the bay and shores of the Mobile into a revenue
   district.

   What was the fact? That we were legislating without information.
   We had never been told that Laussat had been directed to receive
   the country only to the Iberville and the Lakes. We consequently
   legislated in error, for want of Executive information. This was
   the beginning.”[128]

At length, April 7, Randolph committed his last and fatal blunder by
going formally into opposition.

   “I came here,” he said, “prepared to co-operate with the
   Government in all its measures. I told them so. But I soon
   found there was no choice left, and that to co-operate in them
   would be to destroy the national character. I found I might
   co-operate, or be an honest man. I have therefore opposed, and
   will oppose them.”

Such tactics, in the face of a man so supple as President Jefferson,
invited failure. With every weapon of offence in his hand, and with the
assurance of triumph, Randolph threw his chances away and found himself
within a few weeks delivered to the mercy of Secretary Madison and the
Northern democrats. Jefferson’s strong qualities were called into play
by Randolph’s method of attack. Jefferson was not apt to be violent,
nor was he despotic in temper; but he was, within certain limits, very
tenacious of his purpose, and he had to a certain degree the habits of
a paternal despot. Randolph’s sudden assault, carrying with it some
twenty-five or thirty of the ablest and best Republicans in Congress,
greatly alarmed the President, who set himself quietly and earnestly
to the task of restoring order to his shattered columns. The Northern
democrats were easily held firm, for they hated Randolph and had little
love for Virginia. As for the rebellious cohort of “old Republicans,”
Jefferson exhausted his resources in coaxing them to desert their
leader.

March 13 the House laid Gregg’s Resolution aside; Nicholson’s was
then taken up, adopted March 17, and sent to a special committee
to be framed as a Bill. Meanwhile the President busily conciliated
opposition; and his first thought was of Monroe in London, certain to
become the centre of intrigue. March 16 Jefferson wrote to warn his old
friend against the danger of making common cause with Randolph. The
task was difficult, because it was necessary at the same time to break
the news that Monroe must submit to the implied censure of a special
mission.

   “Some of your new friends,” wrote Jefferson,[129] “are attacking
   your old ones, out of friendship for you, but in a way to render
   you great injury.... Mr. Nicholson’s Resolutions will be passed
   this week, probably by a majority of one hundred Republicans
   against fifteen Republicans and twenty-seven Federalists. When
   passed, I shall join Mr. Pinkney of Maryland as your associate
   for settling our differences with Great Britain. He will depart
   on a fortnight’s notice, and will be authorized to take your
   place whenever you think yourself obliged to return.”

Two days later he wrote again.[130] In the interval Nicholson’s
Resolution had been adopted by a vote of eighty-seven to thirty-five,
and Randolph’s minority of Republican members had been reduced, beyond
the President’s hope, to a mere half-dozen grumblers.

   “Mr. R. withdrew before the question was put,” wrote Jefferson.
   “I have never seen a House of Representatives more solidly
   united in doing what they believe to be the best for the public
   interest. There can be no better proof than the fact that so
   eminent a leader should at once, and almost unanimously, be
   abandoned.”

At the same moment Randolph wrote to Monroe that the Republican party
was broken in pieces, and that the “old Republicans” were united in the
support of Monroe against Madison for the Presidency.[131] Randolph
complained bitterly of the atmosphere of intrigue which surrounded the
Administration; but as regarded him at least, Jefferson’s retort was
plausible that he had never found fault with intrigue so long as he had
a share in it. After challenging the contest with Madison, he had only
himself to blame if the President, who was a master of intrigue, used
the weapon freely to defend his favorite and himself.

To detach Randolph’s friends from their leader was an object which the
President pursued with zeal and success. He was a little disposed to
overawe Monroe; but he was glad to conciliate Joseph Nicholson, next
to Randolph the most formidable “old Republican” in public life.
Nicholson was torn by conflicting sympathies; he loved Randolph, and
he did not love Madison. On the other hand he was attached to Gallatin
by marriage and respect. A poor man, with a large family, Nicholson
found the life of a Congressman unprofitable; and when he was offered a
seat on the Bench as Judge of the Sixth Maryland Circuit, he accepted
the appointment. April 9, 1806, his letter of resignation was read to
the House, and the democrats knew that Randolph had lost his strongest
friend.

The Speaker remained to be dealt with. To overawe Macon was impossible;
to buy him was out of the question; to crush him was only a last
resort; no other resource was left than to coax him.

   “Some enemy, whom we know not, is sowing tares between us,”
   wrote the President to the Speaker, at the moment when he was
   warning Monroe and Nicholson escaped to the bench.[132] “Between
   you and myself nothing but opportunities of explanation can be
   necessary to defeat these endeavors. At least, on my part, my
   confidence in you is so unqualified that nothing further is
   necessary for my satisfaction.”

Jefferson never was more sincere than in making this advance to a
friend from whom the course of events threatened to part him: but
unfortunately the point of doubt was not so much Jefferson’s confidence
in Macon as it was Macon’s confidence in Jefferson. At bottom remained
the unpleasant thought that Jefferson had ceased to be either a
Virginian or a Republican; had chosen other friends and advisers than
Macon, other objects and ambitions than Macon pursued.

Even Randolph was treated with delicacy. Jefferson would gladly have
won him back, had Randolph admitted a hope that he would accept
Madison’s candidacy; but on that point no compromise could be
conceived. Madison’s fate was trembling in the balance. Sacrifice of
Madison was impossible to the President, and nothing short of sacrifice
would satisfy Randolph. The “old Republican” schism must therefore
be left to itself; the schismatics were too honest and respectable
to be dealt with. The President exhausted his power when he won back
the wavering, fixed Gallatin in allegiance to Madison, and carried
Nicholson out of the arena; but although gentle and forbearing in
regard to these honest, and as he thought, misguided men, Jefferson did
not think it necessary to show equal deference to the merely selfish
interests which had made use of this moment of confusion in order to
exact terms from the Government. He showed that he could punish, by
making an example of General and Senator Samuel Smith.

Robert Smith in the Cabinet was so near to his brother Samuel in the
Senate that Jefferson could no longer trust his secrets to the Cabinet
itself. After crushing in the House Randolph’s opposition to the
Spanish policy, and after yielding to Smith and the Senate in regard
to a special English mission, the President was required to make
certain appointments, one of which was that of a new minister to aid
and succeed Monroe in London, whence it was supposed that Monroe wished
to return. General Smith’s wider plan assumed that Monroe was on his
way home, and would be succeeded by a regular minister, assisted, for
commercial negotiations, by a special envoy. The special envoy was
to be himself; the permanent minister was to be his brother-in-law
Wilson Cary Nicholas. He had even written to assure Nicholas of the
appointment, when his project was defeated by the secret and unexpected
interference of the President.

April 1, 1806, Samuel Smith wrote to his brother-in-law an account of
his hopes and disappointment:[133]

   “Monroe had written that he would leave Great Britain in
   November; therefore a mission of two,--one to remain as
   minister, the other a merchant of some distinction and of
   general information to go as envoy extraordinary,--was
   desired by all; and here, this proposal generally--I may say
   universally--meant S. S. Two only exceptions: As Monroe will
   remain until the whole business shall be settled, many wish
   now an able merchant to join him; in either case to make a
   commercial treaty with Great Britain. To such a treaty there is
   a rooted aversion in the mind of the President and Mr. Madison.
   I ought to apologize for leading you into error. I still do
   believe that you were originally intended for London. A good
   Federalist is to succeed Monroe, and has been privately written
   to by the President without the knowledge of any of his Cabinet;
   they appeared astonished when he mentioned what he had done.”

The good Federalist thus put over Smith’s head was William Pinkney,
a prominent lawyer of Smith’s city of Baltimore. Such a step without
consulting the Smiths, and against their personal interests, was a
strong measure on the part of Jefferson, quite out of keeping with his
ordinary practice. Offence of tried friends in order to conciliate
Federalists was little to his taste; but General Smith’s conduct
had become so factious as to warrant reproof. Smith was reduced to
submission. He had not shared in Randolph’s bitterness against the
Spanish policy, but he had attempted to make use of the old Republican
schism for his personal objects; and after Randolph’s overthrow, Smith
could no longer venture upon open opposition. Though beaten by only
one vote in his attack on Armstrong’s nomination, Smith felt that his
defeat was made final by the collapse of Randolph’s rebellion. He
admitted to Nicholas that no effective resistance could be made to
the Florida purchase, and that nothing remained but obedience to the
President’s will:--

   “The question was simply, Buy or fight! Both Houses by great
   majorities said, Buy! The manner of buying appears a little
   disagreeable. Politicians will believe it perfectly honest to
   induce France ‘by money’ to coerce Spain to sell that which she
   has absolutely declared was her own property, and from which she
   would not part. Mr. Randolph expects that this public explosion
   of our views and plans will render abortive this negotiation,
   and make the Executive and poor little Madison unpopular.
   Against this last he vents his spleen. However, he spares
   nobody, and by this conduct has compelled _all_ to rally
   round the Executive for _their own preservation_. From the
   Potomac north and east, the members adhere to the President;
   south they fall daily from their allegiance.”

Thus, after four months of confusion, victory declared itself on the
President’s side.[134] Randolph’s violence, even more than Jefferson’s
dexterity, was fatal to the old Republican uprising. As early as April
1 discipline was restored, with Madison stronger than ever before. The
few remaining days of the session only confirmed the result.




                             CHAPTER VIII.


THE President’s triumph was decided as early as March 17, for
on that day General Smith’s assault upon Armstrong was defeated in the
Senate by Vice-President Clinton’s casting vote; and in the House,
Randolph’s resistance to the non-importation policy against England
ended in his discomfiture and withdrawal; but although even at that
early moment no one could doubt Jefferson’s irresistible strength, yet
no one who knew John Randolph could suppose that either the President
or his Secretary of State was in future to sleep on roses.

The session ended April 21; and during the few weeks that intervened
between Randolph’s defeat, March 17, and the adjournment, the
exasperated Virginian developed a strange and unequalled genius. His
position was new. The alternation of threat and entreaty, of lofty
menace and reluctant obedience, which marked the conduct of the State
Department in its dealings with France and England, had no real
admirer in the United States. When Randolph denounced the change in
Spanish policy, not a voice was raised in its defence, and the public
wondered that so powerful a President should be left an unprotected
victim to assaults so furious. In truth Madison himself must have been
tongue-tied; no resource of logic could excuse his sudden abandonment
of the determination “to extinguish in the French government every
hope of turning our controversy with Spain into a French job, public
or private.” Even had he succeeded in excusing himself, his success
must have proved that Randolph’s crime consisted in maintaining the
ground which had been taken and held by President, secretary, and
plenipotentiaries down to the moment, Oct. 23, 1805, when without
explanation the ground was abandoned. Silence and numbers were the
only arguments in defence of such a change, and to these forms of
logic the followers of the Administration at first resorted. “It is
a matter of great astonishment to me,” wrote Wilson Cary Nicholas to
Jefferson April 2, “that such a philippic as we have seen could have
been uttered in Congress, and not one word said in justification of
the Administration.”[135] Toward the end of the session this silence
ceased; the majority made great efforts to answer Randolph; but the
answers were weaker than the silence.

Besides this difficulty in the nature of the case, the majority felt
more than ever the advantage enjoyed by Randolph in his vigor and
quickness of mind. For two months he controlled the House by audacity
and energy of will. The Crowninshields, Varnums, and Bidwells of New
England, the Sloans, Smilies, and Findleys of the Middle States, could
do nothing with him; but by the time he had done with them they were
bruised and sore, mortified, angry, and ridiculous. The consciousness
of this superiority, heightened to extreme arrogance by the need of
brushing away every moment a swarm of flies which seemed never to know
they were crushed, excited Randolph to madness. He set no bounds to
the expression of his scorn not only for the Northern democrats, but
for the House itself and for the whole government. At one member he
shook his fist, and imperiously bade him sit down or to go down the
back-stairs; another member he called an old toothless driveller,
superannuated, and mumbling in second dotage.[136] He flung Madison’s
pamphlet with violent contempt on the floor of the House; and he told
the House itself that it could not maintain a decision two hours
together against the Yazoo lobby.

Sloan of New Jersey, a sort of butt in the party, who could not forgive
Randolph’s allusion to the “vegetable specific,” retorted that Randolph
behaved like “a maniac in a strait-jacket accidentally broke out of his
cell.” No doubt his conduct was open to the charge; but none the less
the maniac gave great trouble and caused extreme confusion. Even after
three fourths of the House came to share Sloan’s opinion, and began the
attempt to control Randolph by every means in their power, they found
the task beyond them.

The Non-importation Bill, framed on Nicholson’s Resolution, was quickly
reported, and March 25 the House agreed to fix November 15 as the date
on which the Act should go into operation. Randolph could not prevent
its passage, but he could make it contemptible, if it was not so
already; and he could encourage the Government and people of England to
treat it with derision.

   “Never in the course of my life,” he cried,[137] “have I
   witnessed such a scene of indignity and inefficiency as this
   measure holds forth to the world. What is it? A milk-and-water
   Bill! A dose of chicken-broth to be taken nine months hence!...
   It is too contemptible to be the object of consideration, or to
   excite the feelings of the pettiest State in Europe.”

The Bill immediately passed by a vote of ninety-three to thirty-two;
but every man on the floor felt that Randolph was right, and every
foreign minister at Washington adopted his tone.

Two days afterward he called up certain Resolutions denouncing as
unconstitutional the union of civil and military authority in the
same person, and declaring that a contractor under Government was a
civil officer, and as such incapable of holding a seat in the House.
These Resolutions struck in every direction; they were a reproof to
the House, to the President, and to individual members like Matthew
Lyon, who had taken mail contracts, or John Smith, the senator from
Ohio, who was a large contractor for army supplies. General Wilkinson
at St. Louis held civil and military powers; the new territory about
to be organized under the name of Michigan was to have a governor of
the same sort. A vote against Randolph’s Resolutions contravened one
of the cardinal principles of the Republican party; a vote for them
censured the party itself and embarrassed Government. Beaten by very
large majorities on these two declaratory points, Randolph succeeded
in carrying through the House a Bill that rendered military and naval
officers incapable of holding also any civil office. This measure slept
quietly on the table of the Senate.

Hardly a day passed without bringing the House into some similar
dilemma. March 29 the Senate sent down a Bill for settling the Yazoo
claims; it had passed the Senate by a vote of nineteen to eleven soon
after the death of its hottest opponent, Senator James Jackson of
Georgia. Randolph exultingly seized upon the Bill in order to plaster
it, like the hue-and-cry after a runaway thief, against the very doors
of the White House:--

   “This Bill may be called the Omega, the last letter of the
   political alphabet; but with me it is the Alpha. It is the head
   of the divisions among the Republican party; it is the secret
   and covert cause of the whole.... The whole weight of the
   Executive government presses it on. We cannot bear up against
   it. The whole Executive government has had a bias to the Yazoo
   interest ever since I had a seat here. This is the original sin
   which has created all the mischiefs which gentlemen pretend to
   throw on the impressment of our seamen, and God knows what. This
   is the cause of those mischiefs which existed years ago.”

The Yazoo sin, he said, had been one principal cause of his failure in
the impeachment of Justice Chase; the secret mechanism of Government
would be so powerfully brought to bear on members that if the Bill
were postponed over Sunday he would not give a farthing for the issue;
gentlemen would come in with speeches ready cut-and-dried until a
majority dwindled to nothing. Exasperating and insulting as this
language was, the House did not resent it; and a motion that the Bill
be rejected passed by a vote of sixty-two to fifty-four, while Randolph
exulted over its fate.

March 31 Randolph, aided by the Federalists and some thirty
Republicans, succeeded in removing the injunction of secrecy from the
Spanish proceedings. No sooner was the Journal published, and he found
that it did not contain the President’s secret message of Dec. 6, 1805,
then he seized this chance to make public all that had occurred in
secret session. April 5, after moving that the injunction of secrecy
should be taken from the Message, he entered into the history of His
own relations with the President and Secretary of State in the tangled
thread of Spanish negotiations. His remarks that day, though severe,
were comparatively temperate; but when the debate was renewed April 7,
he announced that he meant to oppose the Government, because he had
to choose between opposition and dishonesty. He charged that Madison
had tried to get money from the Treasury for this negotiation without
waiting for a vote of Congress; and he declared that the documents,
“if published, would fix a stain upon some men in the government and
high in office which all the waters in the ocean would not wash out.”
His denunciations began to rouse passion; if his opponents could not
equal him in debate, they could in violence of temper. Madison’s
brother-in-law, John G. Jackson of Virginia, took up his charges in
a high tone, and several expressions passed which foreshadowed a
duel. On the vote Randolph was beaten by a majority of seventy-four
to forty-four; but he had published the secrets of Madison’s friends,
and their refusal to print the Message showed the want of courage with
which they were chiefly charged.

On every point of real importance Randolph’s authority overawed the
House. The President in his Annual Message had talked much of defences,
and had even hinted his readiness to build seventy-fours. A committee
of the House reported Resolutions advising that the sum of one hundred
and fifty thousand dollars should be spent in fortifying harbors;
that two hundred and fifty thousand dollars should be appropriated to
build fifty gunboats; and that six hundred and sixty thousand dollars
should be voted toward building six line-of-battle ships. When these
Resolutions were brought up March 25, only thirty members could be
found to vote for the seventy-fours. April 15 the subject came up
again in connection with the Bill for fortifying harbors and building
gunboats. Josiah Quincy made a strong argument, warning Congress that
in the sacrifice of commercial interests which lay at the bottom of
its policy, there was danger not only to the prosperity but to the
permanence of the Union. He remarked that while seventeen millions had
been voted to buy Louisiana and Florida for the sake of securing the
South and West; while in this single session four hundred and fifty
thousand dollars must be voted for Indian lands,--yet the entire sum
expended since the foundation of the government in fortifications
for the nine capital harbors of the Union was only seven hundred and
twenty-four thousand dollars. The city of New York, with at least one
hundred million dollars of capital in deposit, might at any moment be
laid under contribution by two line-of-battle ships. Quincy begged the
House to bear in mind that the ocean could not be abandoned for the
land by the people of New England, of whom thousands would rather see a
boat-hook than all the sheep-crooks in the world:--

   “Concerning the land of which the gentleman from Virginia
   [Randolph] and the one from North Carolina [Macon] think so
   much, they think very little. It is in fact to them only a
   shelter from the storm, a perch on which they build their eyrie
   and hide their mate and their young while they skim the surface
   or hunt in the deep.”

Quincy’s speech was far superior to the ordinary level of Congressional
harangues, and its argument was warmly supported by a democrat as
extreme as Matthew Lyon; but barely thirty votes could be mustered
against Randolph’s economy; and although the New England democrats
joined hands with the New England Federalists in supporting an
appropriation for building two new frigates in place of others which
had been lost or condemned, they could muster only forty-three votes
against Randolph’s phalanx.

Probably no small part of Randolph’s hostility to the navy was due
to his personal dislike for Robert Smith the secretary, and for his
brother Samuel the senator. This enmity already showed signs of serious
trouble in store. Gallatin struggled in vain with Robert Smith’s loose
habit of accounts. Joseph Nicholson, closely allied to Gallatin,
naturally drew away from the Smiths, whose authority in Maryland roused
ill-feeling. Randolph took sides with Gallatin and Nicholson, the more
because Samuel Smith had undertaken to act an independent part in the
politics of the session, and had too plainly betrayed selfish motives.
When Randolph, after delaying the navy estimates as long as he could,
moved the appropriations April 10, he took the opportunity to be more
than usually offensive. He said that an Appropriation Bill was a mere
matter of form; that the items might as well be lumped together; that
the secretary would spend twice the amount if he chose, as he had
done the year before, and that the House would have to make up the
deficiency. “A spendthrift,” said he, “can never be supplied with money
fast enough to anticipate his wants.”

The Bill passed, of course; but the navy was reduced to the lowest
possible point, and fifty gunboats were alone provided in response
to the President’s strong recommendations. Randolph and his friends
believed only in defence on land, and their theory was no doubt as
sound as such theories could ever be; but it was the curse of “old
Republican” principles that they could never be relaxed without
suicide, and never enforced without factiousness. For defence on land
nothing was so vital as good roads. A million dollars appropriated for
roads to Sackett’s Harbor, Erie, Detroit, St. Louis, and New Orleans
would have been, as a measure of land defence, worth more than all
the gunboats and forts that could be crowded along the Atlantic; but
when the Senate sent down a Bill creating commissioners to lay out
the Cumberland road to the State of Ohio, although this road was the
result of a contract to which Congress had pledged its faith, so many
Republicans opposed it under one pretext or another, with John Randolph
among them, that a change of four votes would have defeated the Bill.
No more was done for national defence by land than by water, although
the echo of Nelson’s guns at Trafalgar was as loud as the complaints of
plundered American merchants, and of native American seamen condemned
to the tyranny and the lash of British boatswains.

The drift of Randolph’s opposition was easily seen; he wanted to
cover the Administration with shame for having taken a warlike tone
which it never meant to support. His tactics were calculated to make
Madison contemptible at home and abroad by inviting upon him the worst
outrages of foreign governments. That he succeeded so far as foreign
governments were concerned was almost a matter of course, since even
without his aid Spain, France, and England could hardly invent an
outrage which they had not already inflicted; but at home Randolph’s
scheme failed, because Madison could be degraded only by making the
American people share in his humiliation. The old Republicans relieved
Madison of responsibility for national disgrace, and made Congress
itself answerable for whatever disasters might follow,--a result made
clear by Randolph’s last and most mischievous assault. To meet the
five millions required for the purchase of Florida, at a moment when
the Non-importation Act threatened to cut down the revenue, Gallatin
needed all the existing taxes, including the Mediterranean Fund,
which ceased by law after the peace with Tripoli. April 14 Randolph
suddenly, without the knowledge or consent of Gallatin, moved to repeal
the duty on salt. This heavy and unpopular tax produced about half
a million dollars, and its repeal was so popular that no one dared
oppose it. The next day Randolph brought in a Bill repealing the salt
tax and continuing the Mediterranean Fund. By that time members had
become aware of his factious motives, and denounced them; but so far
from disavowing his purpose, the chairman of the Committee of Ways
and Means proclaimed that since he could not force the Government to
keep within the limit of specific appropriations he meant to sequester
the revenue so as to leave but a scanty surplus. After his speech the
Bill was engrossed without opposition, the Federalists being pleased
to embarrass Government, and the Republicans afraid of sacrificing
popularity. April 17 the Bill passed by a vote of eighty-four to eleven
and was sent to the Senate. The part which related to the salt tax was
there struck out; but when, April 21, the last day of the session,
the Bill so mutilated came again before the House, Randolph exerted
to the utmost his powers of mischief, not so much in order to repeal
the salt tax as to destroy the Senate Bill, and so deprive Government
of its still greater resource, the Mediterranean Fund, which produced
nearly a million. He induced the House to insist upon its own Bill. A
committee of conference was appointed; the Senate would not recede;
Randolph moved that the House adhere. Angry words passed; ill-temper
began to prevail; and when at last Randolph was beaten by the narrow
vote of forty-seven to forty, his relative Thomas Mann Randolph, the
President’s son-in-law, suddenly rose and spoke of his namesake in
terms intended for a challenge; while Sloan of New Jersey occupied part
of the night with a long diatribe against the chairman of the Ways and
Means Committee.

Never had worse temper been seen at Washington than in the last weeks
of this session. Madison’s friends, conscious that their attitude was
undignified, became irritable, and longed for a chance to prove their
courage. Randolph was not the only enemy who devoted the energy of
personal hatred to the task of ruining the Secretary of State. In the
case of Randolph Madison was not to blame, and neither challenged nor
wished a contest. Even the policy which Randolph so violently assailed
was less the policy of the secretary than of the President. Madison did
nothing to invite the storm, and could have done nothing to escape it;
but another tempest raged, to which he voluntarily exposed himself.

The Marquis of Casa Yrujo passed the autumn of 1805 in Philadelphia,
and in obedience to instructions tried to renew friendly relations
with the Secretary of State. During Madison’s stay in the city Yrujo
induced the secretary to accept an invitation to dinner to meet
Governor McKean, Yrujo’s father-in-law. The marquis paid no attention
to the hints sent him from the President that he would confer a favor
on the United States government by returning to Spain without delay. He
was well aware that he had nothing to gain by conferring more favors
on Jefferson; and the conduct of Turreau and Merry was not such as
to deter a Spanish minister from defying to his heart’s content the
authority of the President.

On the appearance of the Annual Message, which contained a general
and loose statement of grievances against Spain, Yrujo wrote Dec. 6,
1805, a keen note to the Secretary of State, criticising, not without
justice, the assertions made by the President. To Yrujo’s note, as
to the St. Domingo note of Turreau, the secretary made no reply. He
held that the contents of an Executive communication to Congress were
not open to diplomatic discussion,--a doctrine doubtless correct in
theory and convenient to the Executive, but offering the disadvantage
that if foreign governments or their envoys chose to disregard it,
the Secretary of State must either enforce discipline or submit to
mortification. Madison accepted the challenge; he meant to enforce
discipline, and aimed at expelling Yrujo from the country. The Cabinet
decided that Yrujo, pending the request for his recall, should receive
no answer to his letters, and should not be permitted to remain in
Washington.

Backed by the President’s authority and by the power of the government,
Madison might reasonably expect an easy victory over the Spaniard, and
he acted as though it were a matter of course that Yrujo should accept
his fate; but Yrujo seemed unconscious of peril. Although the Spanish
minister’s presence at the capital was well known not to be desired by
the President, the society of Washington was startled Jan. 15, 1806,
by learning that the marquis had arrived. The same evening Yrujo,
dining with General Turreau, received a formal note which roused him to
passion only equalled by the temper of John Randolph. The exasperating
letter, signed by Madison, said that as the President had requested
Yrujo’s recall, and as Cevallos had intimated that the marquis wished
to return to Spain on leave, it had been supposed that the departure
would have taken place at once, and therefore his appearance at
Washington was a matter of surprise:--

   “Under these circumstances the President has charged me
   to signify to you that your remaining at this place is
   dissatisfactory to him; and that although he cannot permit
   himself to insist on your departure from the United States
   during an inclement season, he expects it will not be
   unnecessarily postponed after this obstacle has ceased.”

A routine diplomatist would have protested and obeyed; but Yrujo was
not a routine diplomatist. Not in order to learn correct deportment
had he read the “Aurora” or studied the etiquette of Jefferson’s
_pêle-mêle_. Minister and marquis as he was, he had that
democratic instinct which always marked the Spanish race and made
even the beggars proud; while his love of a fray shocked Turreau and
caused Merry to look upon his Spanish colleague as a madman. At that
moment Madison was little esteemed or feared by any one; the recoil of
his foreign policy had prostrated him, and Randolph was every day, in
secret session, overwhelming him with contempt. Yrujo had no reason to
fear the result of a contest; but even had there been cause for fear,
he was not a man to regard it.

Turreau in vain attempted to restrain him; nothing would satisfy Yrujo
but defiance. January 16, the day after receiving Madison’s letter, the
Spanish minister answered it.

   “As the object of my journey is not with a view to hatch plots,”
   said he, with a side-blow at Madison which the secretary soon
   understood, “my arrival here is an innocent and legal act, which
   leaves me in the full enjoyment of all my rights and privileges,
   both as a public character or a private individual. Making use
   therefore of these rights and privileges, I intend remaining in
   the city, four miles square, in which the Government resides, as
   long as it may suit the interest of the King my master or my own
   personal convenience. I must at the same time add that I shall
   not lose sight of these two circumstances as respects the period
   and season in which our mutual desires for my departure from the
   United States are to be accomplished.”

Having thus retaliated Madison’s insult, Yrujo next made his revenge
public. January 19 he sent to the Department a formal protest, couched
in language still more offensive than that of his letter:--

   “Having gone through the personal explanations which for just
   motives I was compelled to enter into in my first answer to
   your letter of the 15th inst., I must now inform you, sir, what
   otherwise would then have constituted my sole reply; namely,
   that the envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary of
   his Catholic Majesty near the United States receives no orders
   except from his sovereign. I must also declare to you, sir,
   that I consider both the style and tenor of your letter as
   indecorous, and its object an infraction of the privileges
   attached to my public character.”

Finally he sent to his colleagues copies of this correspondence, which
soon afterward was printed in every Federalist newspaper, together with
the note criticising the Annual Message, the reception of which had
never been acknowledged by the Secretary of State.

Thus far Madison gained no credit in the scuffle, but merely called
upon his own head one more intolerable insult. Perhaps in Yrujo’s
apparent madness some share of method might be detected; for he
knew the character of Madison,--his willingness to irritate and
his reluctance to strike. At all events, the Spaniard remained at
Washington and defied the Government to do its worst. The Cabinet
consulted, examined into the law, inquired for precedents, and at last
decided that the Government could not expel him. Merry took Yrujo’s
part, and Turreau had much to do with moderating the President’s
measures and with checking interference from Congress.[138] The
Government in all its branches was overawed, and even the senators were
alarmed. “The marquis’s letters last published seem to have frightened
many of them so that probably nothing will be done.”[139] So wrote
a member of the Senate who alone exerted himself to strengthen the
President’s hands. Yrujo remained a fortnight or more at Washington,
and after carrying his point returned at his leisure to Philadelphia.
The only measure which Madison ventured to take was that of refusing
to hold any communication with him or to receive his letters; but even
this defence was turned by Yrujo into a vantage-ground of attack.

Among other adventurers then floating about the world was one Francesco
de Miranda, a native of Caraccas, who for twenty years had been
possessed by a passion for revolutionizing his native province, and
for becoming the Washington of Spanish America. Failing to obtain in
England the aid he needed, he came to New York in November, 1805, with
excellent letters of introduction. Miranda had a high reputation; he
was plausible and enthusiastic; above all, he was supposed to represent
a strong patriot party in Spanish America. War with Spain was imminent;
the President’s Annual Message seemed almost to declare its existence.
In New York Miranda instantly became a hero, and attracted about him
every ruined adventurer in society, among the rest a number of Aaron
Burr’s friends. Burr himself was jealous, and spoke with contempt
of him; but Burr’s chief ally Dayton, the late Federalist senator
from New Jersey, was in Miranda’s confidence. So was John Swartwout
the marshal, Burr’s devoted follower; so was William Steuben Smith,
surveyor of the port, one of the few Federalists still left in office.
These, as well as a swarm of smaller men, clustered round the Spanish
American patriot, either to help his plans or to further their own.
By Smith’s advice Miranda hired the ship “Leander,” owned by one Ogden
and commanded by a Captain Lewis; with Smith’s active aid Miranda next
bought arms and supplies, and enlisted men.

Meanwhile Miranda went to Washington. Arriving there in the first
days of the session, before the pacific secret message and its sudden
change of policy toward Spain were publicly known, he called upon the
Secretary of State. December 11 he was received by the secretary at
the Department; then invited to dine; then he put off his departure in
order to dine with the President at the White House,--at a time when he
was engaged, in conjunction with the surveyor of the port of New York,
in fitting out a warlike expedition against Spanish territory. What
passed between him and Madison became matter of dispute. The secretary
afterward admitted that Miranda told of his negotiations with the
British government, and made no secret of his hopes to revolutionize
Colombia; to which Madison had replied that the government of the
United States could not aid or countenance any secret enterprise, and
was determined to interfere in case of any infraction of the law.
Miranda’s account of the secretary’s conversation was very different;
he wrote to Smith, from Washington, letters representing Madison to be
fully aware of the expedition then fitting out, and to be willing that
Smith should join it. He made a parade of social relations with the
President and secretary, and on returning to New York was open in his
allusions to the complicity of Government. Doubtless his statements
were false, and those of Madison were alone worthy of belief; but the
Secretary of State was not the less compromised in the opinion of his
enemies.

Miranda quickly returned to New York; and when about a month later the
“Leander” was ready to sail, he wrote a letter to Madison announcing
his intended departure, and taking a sort of formal and official
leave, as though he were a confidential emissary of the President. He
had the assurance to add that “the important matters” which he had
communicated “will remain, I doubt not, in the deepest secret until
the final result of this delicate affair. I have acted here on that
supposition, conforming myself in everything to the intentions of the
Government, which I hope I have seized and observed with exactitude and
discretion.”[140]

Ten days afterward the “Leander” sailed with a party of filibusters for
the Spanish main, and the Secretary of State awoke to the consciousness
that he had been deceived and betrayed. Fortunately for Madison,
Miranda had not left behind him a copy of this letter, but had merely
told his friends its purport. The letter itself remained unseen; but
the original still exists among the Archives of the State Department,
bearing an explanatory note in Madison’s handwriting, that Miranda’s
“important” communications related to “what passed with the British
government,” and that in saying he had conformed in New York to the
President’s intentions, Miranda said what was not true.

Then Madison, after receiving and entertaining Miranda at Washington
while a high government official was openly enlisting troops for him
at New York, ordered the Spanish minister to leave the Federal city,
and refused to receive the minister’s communications on any subject
whatever. He had driven Casa Calvo and Morales from Louisiana, and at
the same time allowed a notorious Spanish rebel to organize in New York
a warlike expedition against Spanish territory.

Madison could hardly suppose that Yrujo would fail to make him pay
the uttermost penalty for a mistake so glaring. Never before had the
Spaniard enjoyed such an opportunity. After defying the secretary at
Washington, Yrujo returned to Philadelphia, where he arrived on the
evening of February 4. As he stepped from his carriage letters were put
into his hand. Three of these letters were from the Spanish consul at
New York, and contained only the notice that the “Leander” was about to
sail.[141] Serious as this news was, it did not compare in importance
with information furnished by Jonathan Dayton. For reasons of his own
Dayton kept Yrujo informed of events unknown even to Merry and Turreau,
and unsuspected by the President or his Cabinet. In some cases he
probably tried to work on Yrujo’s credulity.

   “The Secretary of State,” according to Dayton’s story, “with
   whom Miranda had two conferences, doubtless suspecting the
   origin of this mission, had at first treated him with reserve;
   but at last had opened himself so far as to say that he did not
   know whether the United States would or would not declare war
   against Spain, because this step must depend on Congress; that
   in this uncertainty he could not permit himself to offer Miranda
   the aid asked; but that if private citizens in the United States
   chose to advance their funds for the undertaking, as Miranda had
   suggested, the Government would shut its eyes to their conduct,
   provided that Miranda took his measures in such a way as not
   to compromise the Government. At the same time the secretary
   coincided in Miranda’s idea that in case the United States
   should determine upon war with Spain, this undertaking would
   prove to be a diversion favorable to the views of the American
   government.”

This had been told to Yrujo, and reported by him to his Government
before the visit to the capital. In the excitement caused by Madison’s
order to leave Washington, Yrujo confided in General Turreau, and went
so far as to hint to Madison himself his knowledge that Madison was
engaged in “hatching plots” against Spain. Dayton’s latest information
was still more serious. Besides exact details in regard to the force
and destination of Miranda, Dayton said it had been agreed between
Madison and Miranda that the Government should use the pretext of
asking Yrujo’s recall in order to refuse to receive communications from
him, and thus prevent him from claiming official interference against
the “Leander.”

No sooner did the idea of a profound intrigue effect a lodgment in
the Spaniard’s mind, than he turned it into a means of wounding the
Secretary of State. After writing letters the whole night, and sending
off swift-sailing pilot-boats to warn the Spanish authorities of
Miranda’s plans, the marquis turned his attention to the secretary. He
sent a letter to the Department, complaining that the “Leander” had
been allowed to sail; but knowing that the Department would decline
to receive his letter, he took another measure which secured with
certainty a hearing. He wrote a similar letter to Turreau, begging his
interference.[142]

Turreau could not refuse. No sooner did he receive Yrujo’s letter,
February 7, than he went to the Department and had an interview with
the secretary, which he reported to Yrujo on the same day:[143]--

   “I was this morning with Madison. I imparted to him my
   suspicions and yours. I sought his eyes, and, what is rather
   rare, I met them. He was in a state of extraordinary prostration
   while I was demanding from him a positive explanation on the
   proceedings in question. It was with an effort that he broke
   silence, and at length answered me that the President had
   already anticipated my representations by ordering measures to
   be taken against the accomplices who remained in the country
   and against the culprits who should return. I leave you to
   judge whether I was satisfied by this answer, and I quitted
   him somewhat abruptly in order to address him in writing. I am
   occupied in doing so.”

Madison might well show disturbance. To conciliate Turreau and
Napoleon had been the chief object of his policy since the preceding
October. For this he had endured arrogance such as no other American
secretary ever tolerated. The Florida negotiation had not yet begun;
John Randolph had delayed it and declaimed against it until Madison’s
reputation was involved in its success. Turreau held its fate in his
hand; and suddenly Turreau appeared, demanding that Madison should
prove himself innocent of charges that involved a quarrel with France
as the ally and protector of Spain, while Madison had in his desk the
parting letter from Miranda which if published would have proved the
truth of these charges to the mind of every diplomatist and political
authority in Europe.

Before many days had passed, Yrujo set the Federalist press at work.
The President removed Smith from his office of surveyor, and caused
both Smith and Ogden to be indicted. Indignant at being, as they
believed, sacrificed to save Madison, Smith and Ogden sent memorials to
Congress, which were presented by Josiah Quincy, April 21, the last day
of the session, when the House was already irritable and the endurance
of Madison’s friends was exhausted by the vexatious attacks to which
they had been for so many months exposed without capacity to reply or
power to prevent them. John G. Jackson of Virginia, who had already
invited a duel with Randolph, broke into a furious tirade against
Quincy. “I say it is a base calumny of which the gentleman has made
himself the organ; and in saying so I hold myself responsible in any
place the gentleman pleases.” The House voted by an immense majority
to return the memorials to the men from whom they came. The charges
against the secretary were hustled aside, and Congress adjourned with
what little dignity was left it; but Yrujo won his victory, and gave
to the Secretary of State the fullest equivalent for the secretary’s
assault. For another year he defied his enemy by remaining as Spanish
minister in America; but he held no more relations with Government, and
at his own request was then sent to represent Don Carlos IV. at the
Court of Eugène Beauharnais at Milan.

Thus the first session of the Ninth Congress closed, April 21, 1806,
leaving the Administration master of the field, but strong in numbers
alone. How long a government could maintain its authority by mere
momentum of inert mass had become a serious question to Jefferson and
his successor.




                              CHAPTER IX.


AS the members of Congress, after their wrangles, at last,
April 22, wandered homeward, and John Randolph’s long, lean figure
disappeared on horseback beyond the Potomac, both the President and
the Secretary of State drew a sigh of relief; for never before in
the history of the Government had a President been obliged to endure
such public insults and outrages at the hands of friend and enemy
alike. The Federalists had quarrelled with each other as bitterly as
the Republicans were quarrelling, but in Congress at least they had
held their peace. Under their sway neither Spain, France, nor England
insulted them or their Presidents with impunity. Sanguine as Jefferson
was, he could not but feel that during two sessions he had been treated
with growing disrespect both in Congress and abroad; and that should
the contempt for his authority increase, his retirement would offer
melancholy proof that the world no longer valued his services. So
clearly did he see the danger that, as has been shown, he would gladly
have changed the external appearance of his policy. February 18, 1806,
he wrote his letter declaring himself convinced that Europe must be
taught to know her error in supposing his Government to be “entirely
in Quaker principles;”[144] and that unless this idea could be
corrected, the United States would become the plunder of all nations.
The attempt to teach Europe her error made his position worse. A month
later, after the President had done all that he dared to do toward
alarming the fears of Europe, the British minister at Washington wrote
that both the American government and the American people, so far from
meaning to use force, were trembling lest Great Britain should declare
war:[145]

   “The fear and apprehension of such a crisis is manifestly
   so great that I think I may venture to say that should his
   Majesty’s government, in consequence of the menace insinuated
   in the President’s Message, have thought proper to make any
   demonstration of their determination to resist whatever measures
   might be adopted here, by sending a reinforcement to the British
   squadron on the American station sufficiently great to be
   noticed, such a measure on their part would have the salutary
   effect of putting a stop at once to all the hostile proceedings
   of this Government.”

In view of speeches like those of Gregg, Crowninshield, and Randolph,
with their running commentary on the President’s policy, such a
conclusion as that which Merry had reached could not be called
unjust. A few weeks afterward the British minister found his theory
put to a severe test. April 25, 1806, soon after the adjournment of
Congress, an event occurred which seemed calculated to bring the
two nations into collision. The “Leander,” the “Cambrian,” and the
“Driver,” blockading the port of New York, were in the habit of firing
shot across the bows of merchant vessels in order to bring them to.
According to the British account,--which was of course as favorable
to the frigate as possible,--a shot fired by the “Leander” to stop
a passing vessel happened by an unlucky chance to be in line with a
coasting sloop far beyond, and killed one John Pierce, brother of the
coaster’s captain. Making his way to the city with the mangled body
of his brother, the captain roused New York to excitement over the
outrage. A meeting of citizens was held at the Tontine Coffeehouse;
but the Republicans allowed the Federalist leaders to conduct it.
Rufus King, Oliver Wolcott, and other well-known enemies of President
Jefferson reported a series of resolutions censuring the Government
for permitting the seizures, impressments, and murders which were a
consequence of the blockade, recommending that all intercourse with the
blockading squadron should be stopped, and advising that John Pierce
should be buried with a public funeral. Meanwhile the people took the
law into their own hands, intercepting supplies for the squadron,
and compelling the few British officers on shore to hide themselves.
Pierce’s funeral was turned into a popular demonstration. Captain
Whitby of the “Leander” was indicted for murder by the grand jury; and
the mayor despatched to Washington the necessary affidavits, on which
the President might rest such further action as should seem fit.

Jefferson was greatly annoyed at this new misfortune, which allowed
his Federalist enemies to charge upon him responsibility for British
aggressions. In truth the Federalist merchants were the chief opponents
of war with England; and their patriotic feeling was for the most part
a sham. Yet the matter could not be ignored; and accordingly, May 3,
the President issued a proclamation closing the ports and harbors of
America forever to the three British frigates and to their commanders,
and ordering all officers of the United States to arrest Captain Whitby
wherever he might be found within American jurisdiction. This manner
of redressing his own wrongs placed Jefferson at a disadvantage in
asking for redress from Fox, who might naturally reply that if the
United States government chose to make its appeal to municipal law,
it could not expect the Government of Great Britain to offer further
satisfaction; but popular excitement was for the moment more important
than diplomatic forms.

Jacob Crowninshield, returning from Washington to Massachusetts after
the adjournment of Congress, happened to be in New York at the time
of Pierce’s funeral, and wrote to the President on the subject. The
President, May 13, answered his letter at some length.

   “Although the scenes which were acted on shore,” he said,[146]
   “were overdone with electioneering views, yet the act of the
   British officer was an atrocious violation of our territorial
   rights. The question what should be done was a difficult one.
   The sending three frigates was one suggestion.... While we
   were thus unable to present a force of that kind at New York,
   we received from Mr. Merry the most solemn assurances that the
   meeting of the three British vessels at New York was entirely
   accidental, from different quarters, and that they were not to
   remain. We concluded, therefore, that it was best to do what you
   have seen in the proclamation, and to make a proper use of the
   outrage and of our forbearance at St. James’s to obtain better
   provisions for the future.”

This was not all. Jefferson avowed himself in favor of a navy. His
fifty new gunboats would, he thought, put New Orleans and New York in
safety:

   “But the building some ships of the line, instead of our most
   indifferent frigates, is not to be lost sight of. That we should
   have a squadron properly composed to prevent the blockading our
   ports is indispensable. The Atlantic frontier, from numbers,
   wealth, and exposure to potent enemies, has a proportionate
   right to be defended with the western frontier, for whom we keep
   up three thousand men. Bringing forward the measure, therefore,
   in a moderate form, placing it on the ground of comparative
   right, our nation, which is a just one, will come into it,
   notwithstanding the repugnance of some on the subject when first
   presented.”

That Jefferson should repeat the opinions and echo the arguments of
the Federalist Presidents was an experience worth noting; but as a
matter of statesmanship, there was reason to fear that the change came
too late. The theory of peaceable coercion had been made the base of
Jefferson’s foreign policy; and upon it his fortunes must stand or
fall. Merry, though willing to quiet President Jefferson’s fears so far
as concerned the accident of Pierce’s death, was little affected by the
outcry of New York, for he saw that the United States government could
not change its pacific system. He wrote to Fox an urgent remonstrance
against concession to American demands:[147]

   “I consider it my duty to accompany this statement with a
   conviction on my part, from what is evident of the division of
   parties throughout the United States, from the weakness of the
   Government, from the prominent passion of avarice which prevails
   among every class of the community, and their intolerance under
   internal taxes, which must be imposed in the event of a war
   with any Power, that should his Majesty’s government consider
   the pretensions that are asserted from hence as unjust, and be
   therefore disposed to resist them, such a resistance would only
   be attended with the salutary effect of commanding from this
   Government that respect which they have recently lost toward
   Great Britain.”

Within the last year England had seized a large portion of American
shipping and commerce; hundreds of American citizens had been taken by
force from under the American flag, some of whom were already lying
beneath the waters off Cape Trafalgar; the port of New York had been
blockaded by a British squadron, which drew its supplies from the city,
and lay habitually within its waters, except when engaged in stopping
and searching vessels beyond the three-mile line; and at last an
American citizen was killed within American jurisdiction by the guns
of the blockading squadron. In return the United States government had
threatened to buy no more fine woollens and silks from England; and
had stopped the fresh meat and vegetables which the officers of the
“Cambrian” and “Leander” were in the habit of procuring in the New
York market. That Merry should still complain, that he should wish to
stifle even this whisper of protest, and should talk of the American
government in the same breath as trembling with fear and as having
lost respect toward England, showed that he had a memory better than
his powers of observation. He was still brooding over Jefferson’s
_pêle-mêle_ and his heelless slippers.

For that offence, committed in the heyday of diplomatic triumph, the
President had bitterly atoned. As Jefferson twisted and twined along
a course daily becoming more tortuous, he found that public disaster
was followed by social trials; on all sides he felt the reaction of
his diplomatic failures. This kind of annoyance left little trace in
history, and was commonly forgotten or ignored by the people; but
Jefferson was more than commonly sensitive to social influences, and if
it annoyed him to be slandered, it annoyed him still more to be laughed
at. He could not retaliate, and the more he exerted himself to appear
above his vexations, the more he exposed himself to ridicule.

General Turreau, with grim amusement, reported faithfully what he saw
and heard. At one moment Jefferson, trying to discover some plan for
checking British authority, broached to the minister of Napoleon a
scheme for uniting all Christian Powers in a novel alliance against
each other’s aggressions.

   “Your Excellency will of course understand,” wrote the sardonic
   Turreau to the saturnine Talleyrand,[148] “that it is not a
   system of armed neutrality which Mr. Jefferson would like to see
   established. Everything which tends to war is too far removed
   from his philanthropic principles, as it is from the interests
   of his country and the predominant opinion. The guaranty of
   neutrals would repose on the inert force of all the Powers
   against the one that should violate the neutral compact, and
   whose vessels would then find all foreign ports shut to them.”

Turreau was amused by the incongruity of inviting Napoleon Bonaparte
not only to protect neutral rights, but to do so by peaceful methods,
and to join with Great Britain in a Christian confederation which
should have for its main object the protection of American commerce, in
order to save President Jefferson the expense of protecting it himself;
but the humor of the scheme was not to be compared with its rashness.
Had Jefferson foreseen the future, he would have abstained from
suggesting ideas to a despot of Napoleon’s genius.

Turreau entertained at heart a liking for Jefferson; and indeed no one
could come within the President’s kindly influence without admitting
its charm. “There is something voluptuous in meaning well.” There
was something voluptuous in Jefferson’s way of meaning well; and if
the quality increased the anger of the New England Puritans, who saw
in it only hypocrisy, or if it drove John Randolph nearly to frenzy,
it softened the hearts of bystanders like Turreau, who atoned for
their weakness toward the President by contempt for his favorite the
Secretary of State. May 10 Turreau wrote to Talleyrand:

   “This infatuation of Mr. Jefferson for a common-place man,
   whose political opinions are becoming every day more and more
   an object of suspicion to the leaders of the dominant party,
   will not surprise those who know the actual chief of the Federal
   government. Mr Jefferson as a private man joins to estimable
   qualities an uncommon degree of instruction; he cultivates
   successfully philosophy, the sciences, and the arts; he knows
   well the true interests of his country; and if he seems
   sometimes to sacrifice them, or at least to offend them, when
   they do not accord with his extreme popularity, this is not
   with him the result of matured reflection, but only of a kindly
   sentiment, the impulse of which he blindly follows. But in my
   opinion Mr. Jefferson lacks the first of the qualities which
   make a statesman; he has little energy, and still less of that
   audacity which is indispensable in a place so eminent, whatever
   may be the form of government. The slightest event makes him
   lose his balance, and he does not even know how to disguise the
   impression he receives. Although the last session was quite
   stormy, it was easy to foresee that everything would end in
   propositions of agreement, because no one wished war; and yet
   Mr. Jefferson has worried himself so much with the movements
   of Congress that he has made himself ill, and has grown ten
   years older. Not that he has yet reached the point of repenting
   having begun a second term. What has further contributed to
   render his position disagreeable is the drawing off of a part
   of his friends, and even of the diplomatic corps, who, with the
   exception of the French minister, no longer visit the President.
   This isolation renders him the more sensible to the reiterated
   outrages he receives in Congress even in open session. I have
   certain information that he has been extremely affected by
   it.”[149]

Neither these annoyances nor the unlucky accident of Pierce’s death,
following so long a series of political misfortunes, could prevent the
skies from clearing with the coming spring. If the Southern Republicans
for a time seemed, as General Smith said, to be falling away daily from
the Administration, the President could still congratulate himself
on the steadiness of the Northern democrats, who asked for no better
fortune than to be rid forever of John Randolph’s tyranny. On the
whole, Jefferson was well pleased with the behavior of his majority.
His chief care was to find a parliamentary leader who could take
Randolph’s place; and he was willing that this leadership should pass
out of Virginia hands, even though it should fall into the hands of
Massachusetts. He wrote to Barnabas Bidwell, urging him to take the
vacant position:[150]--

   “The last session of Congress was indeed an uneasy one for a
   time; but as soon as the members penetrated into the views of
   those who were taking a new course, they rallied in as solid a
   phalanx as I have ever seen act together. They want only a man
   of business and in whom they can confide to conduct things in
   the House, and they are as much disposed to support him as can
   be wished. It is only speaking a truth to say that all eyes look
   to you.”

Jefferson’s great hope seemed likely soon to be realized beyond his
own anticipations, when New England should not only accept democratic
principles, but should also control the party which Virginia had
brought into power. In the April election of 1806 Massachusetts chose a
democratic legislature; the Federalist Governor Strong was re-elected
by only a few hundred votes, while a democrat was actually elected for
lieutenant-governor. The conduct of England, which caused Jefferson
his most serious difficulties abroad, worked in his favor among the
people of America, who were more patriotic than their leaders, and felt
by instinct that whatever mistakes in policy their Government might
commit, support was the alternative to anarchy.

The factions in New York and Pennsylvania fought their tedious and
meaningless battles, which had no longer a national interest. The
newspapers continued to find in personal abuse the most lively
amusement they could furnish to their readers. The acts of Jefferson
and Madison were extolled or vilified according to the partisan
division of the press; and material for attack and defence was never
lacking. During the summer of 1806 Miranda’s expedition and the trial
of Smith and Ogden, which resulted from it, filled many columns of
the papers. Conviction of these two men for violating the neutrality
laws seemed to be the President’s earnest wish; yet when members of
the Administration were subpœnaed for the defence, Jefferson ordered
them to disobey the summons, alleging that their attendance in court
would interfere with their performance of official duties. The question
whether this rule was proper in practice or correct in law came soon
afterward before the Supreme Court, and received elaborate discussion;
but in the case of Smith and Ogden, the refusal of Madison to obey
the subpœna was a political necessity. Had he been forced into the
witness-box, he must have produced Miranda’s letter; and in the face
of evidence so compromising to the superior officers of government, no
jury would have convicted a subordinate.

Before the trial began, the President removed Smith from his office
of surveyor of the port of New York; and after its close he removed
Swartwout from the post of marshal. The reasons for punishing
Swartwout were given in a Cabinet memorandum written by Jefferson:--

   “Swartwout the marshal, to whom in his duel with Clinton Smith
   was second, summoned a panel of jurors the greater part of which
   were of the bitterest Federalists. His letter, too, covering to
   a friend a copy of ‘Aristides,’ and affirming that every fact
   in it was true as Holy Writ. Determined unanimously that he be
   removed.”

Thanks to Swartwout’s jury and to Madison’s share in Miranda’s
confidence, Smith was acquitted. As in many other government cases, the
prosecution ended in a failure of justice.

The Spaniards easily defeated Miranda, and captured or drove away
his forces. Events followed with such rapidity that this episode was
soon forgotten. Yrujo did his utmost to keep it alive. The Federalist
newspapers printed more than one attack on Madison evidently from
Yrujo’s pen, which annoyed the secretary and his friends; while
Yrujo remained in the country only by way of bravado, to prove the
indifference of his Government to the good-will of the United States.
On the Texan frontier the Spaniards showed themselves in increasing
numbers, until a collision seemed imminent. Wilkinson, on his side,
could collect at Natchitoches no force capable of holding the Red River
against a serious attack. Whether Wilkinson himself were not more
dangerous than the Spaniards to the government of the United States
was a question which disturbed men like John Randolph more than it
seemed to interest Jefferson.

Fortunately the Treasury was as strong as the Army and the Foreign
Department were weak. Gallatin made no mistakes; from the first he had
carried the Administration on his shoulders, and had defied attack.
Duane hated him, for Gallatin’s influence held Duane in check, and
seemed the chief support of Governor McKean in Pennsylvania; but
Duane’s malignity could find no weak point in the Treasury. The revenue
reached $14,500,000 for 1806, and after providing the two millions
appropriated for the Florida purchase, left a balance for the year of
four hundred thousand dollars beyond all current demands. The Treasury
held a surplus of at least four millions. The national debt was reduced
to less than $57,500,000; and this sum included the Louisiana stock of
$11,250,000, which could not be paid before the year 1818. After the
year 1808, Gallatin promised an annual surplus of five or six millions,
ready for any purpose to which Congress might choose to apply it. Even
the Federalists gave up the attempt to attack the management of the
Treasury; and if they sometimes seemed to wish for a foreign war, it
was chiefly because they felt that only a war could shake the authority
and success of Gallatin. “For many years past,” wrote Timothy Pickering
in 1814,[151] “I have said, ‘Let the ship run aground! The shock will
throw the present pilots overboard; and then competent navigators will
get her once more afloat, and conduct her safely into port.’” Only war
with England, by breaking down the Treasury, could effect Pickering’s
purpose.

Of such a war, in spite of the Rule of 1756, the blockade of New York,
the impressment of seamen, and the slaughter of Pierce, there was no
immediate prospect. The death of William Pitt and the accession of
Charles James Fox to power quieted fear. The American people were
deliberately resolved not to join in the outburst of passion which
Pierce’s death caused in New York. Little sense was felt of a common
interest between agriculture and shipping; so that even the outrage of
Pierce passed without stirring men who followed the plough and swung
the scythe. New York was but a seaport, half foreign in population and
interests, an object of jealousy to good citizens, who looked askance
at manufactures and middlemen. The accidental death of a seaman was no
matter of alarm. Every patriotic American wanted peace with England,
and was glad to be told that Fox had promised pleasant things to Monroe.

Although the merchants had been robbed, the people at large were more
prosperous and contented than ever. The summer of 1806 was one of
quiet and rapid progress. While Europe tossed on her bed of pain, and
while Russia built up the fourth coalition against Napoleon, only to
drench with blood the battle-fields of Jena, Eylau, and Friedland,
the United States moved steadily toward their separate objects, caring
little for any politics except their own. In foreign affairs their
government, after threatening to break through the bounds it had set
to its own action and to punish the offenders of its dignity, ended
by returning to its old ground and by avowing, as in 1801, that war
was not one of its weapons. In domestic matters no serious division of
opinion existed. The American people went to their daily tasks without
much competition or mental effort, and had no more wish to wrangle
about problems of the future than to turn back on their path and face
Old-World issues. Every day a million men went to their work, every
evening they came home with some work accomplished; but the result
was matter for a census rather than for history. The acres brought
into cultivation, the cattle bred, the houses built, proved no doubt
that human beings, like ants and bees, could indefinitely multiply
their numbers, and could lay up stores of food; but these statistics
offered no evidence that the human being, any more than the ant and
bee, was conscious of a higher destiny, or was even mechanically
developing into a more efficient animal. As far as politics proved
anything, the evidence seemed to show that the American tended already
to become narrow in his views and timid in his methods. The great
issues of 1776 and of 1787 had dwindled into disputes whether robbery
and violence should be punished by refusing to buy millinery and
hardware from the robbers, and whether an unsuccessful attempt to
purloin foreign territory should be redeemed by bribing a more powerful
nation to purloin it at second hand. The great issues of democracy and
republicanism were still alive, but their very success removed these
subjects for the moment from the field of politics. That a democracy
could for so long a time maintain itself above Old-World miseries was a
triumph; but thus far the democracy had been favored by constant good
fortune, and even in these five years conservatives thought they felt a
steady decline of moral tone. What would happen when society should be
put to some violent test?

In politics nothing that proved progress could be seen. In other
directions little positive result had been reached.

Far in the wilderness a few men, in the pay of the United States
government, were toiling for the advancement of knowledge. In the
summer of 1805 General Wilkinson ordered Lieutenant Pike, a young
officer in the first infantry, to take a sergeant, a corporal, and
seventeen privates, and ascertain the true sources of the Mississippi.
For scientific purposes such a party of explorers could do little
of permanent value, but as a military reconnoissance it might have
uses. Lieutenant Pike worked his way up the stream from St. Louis.
October 16, 1805, he reached a point two hundred and thirty-three
miles above the Falls of St. Anthony, and there stopped to establish
a winter station. December 10 he started again with a part of his
men and went northward with sleds until, Jan. 8, 1806, he reached a
British trading-station on Sandy Lake, from which he struggled to
Leech Lake, where another British establishment existed. His visit was
rather an act of formal authority than a voyage of exploration; but he
notified both the British and the Indian occupants of the territory
that they were under the rule of the United States government. After
accomplishing this object he began his return march February 18,
and reached St. Louis April 30, 1806, having shown such energy and
perseverance in this winter journey as few men could have surpassed.

General Wilkinson was so well pleased with the success of the
expedition that he immediately ordered Pike upon another. This time
the headwaters of the Arkansas and Red rivers were to be explored as
far as the Spanish settlements of New Mexico. July 15, 1806, with
about the same number of men as before, Pike left St. Louis, and
September 1 reached the Osage towns on the Missouri River. Striking
across the prairie, he marched through a country filled with jealous
Pawnee Indians, till he reached the Arkansas River, and ascending its
branches, left a permanent monument to his visit by giving his name to
Pike’s Peak in Colorado. Turning toward the southwest, he entangled
himself in the mountains; and after suffering terribly in snow and
ice, at last, Feb. 26, 1807, was stopped by the Spanish authorities at
Santa Fé, who sent him to Chihuahua, and thence allowed him to return
through Texas to the United States.

Both these expeditions were subordinate to the larger exploration of
Lewis and Clark, which President Jefferson himself organized, and in
which he took deep interest. After passing the winter at the Mandan
village, as has been already told, Lewis with thirty-two men set out
April 7 in boats and canoes for the headwaters of the Missouri. The
journey proved to be full of labor, but remarkably free from danger;
the worst perils encountered were from rattlesnakes and bears. The
murderous Sioux were not seen; and when, August 11, Lewis reached the
end of river navigation, and found himself at the base of the mountains
that divided the waters of the Missouri from those of the Columbia,
his greatest anxiety was to meet the Indians who occupied the line
of passage. His troubles rose from the poverty, rather than from the
hostility, of these tribes. They supplied him with horses and with such
provisions as they had, and he made his way peacefully down the western
slope until he could again take canoes. November 7 the explorers
reached the mouth of the Columbia River, and saw at last the ocean
which bounded American ambition. There they were forced to pass the
winter in extreme discomfort, among thievish and flea-bitten Indians,
until March 26, 1807, they could retrace their steps.

Creditable as these expeditions were to American energy and enterprise,
they added little to the stock of science or wealth. Many years must
elapse before the vast region west of the Mississippi could be brought
within reach of civilization. The crossing of the continent was a
great feat, but was nothing more. The French explorers had performed
feats almost as remarkable long before; but, in 1805, the country
they explored was still a wilderness. Great gains to civilization
could be made only on the Atlantic coast under the protection of
civilized life. For many years to come progress must still centre in
the old thirteen States of the Union. The expeditions of Lewis and
Pike returned no immediate profits; but in the city of New York men
were actively engaged in doing what Lewis could not do,--bringing the
headwaters of the western rivers within reach of private enterprise and
industry. While Lewis slowly toiled up the Missouri River, thinking
himself fortunate if he gained twenty miles a day against the stream,
the engine which Robert Fulton had ordered from the works of Watt and
Bolton in England had been made, and Fulton returned to New York to
superintend its use. With the money of Chancellor Livingston he began
to construct the hull of his new steamboat and adjust it to the engine.

The greatest steps in progress were often unconsciously taken, and
Fulton’s steamboat was an example of this rule. Neither in private talk
nor in the newspapers did his coming experiment rouse much notice. To
the public, Fulton’s idea, though visionary, was not new. Indeed Fulton
stood in imminent danger of being forestalled by rivals. In 1804
Oliver Evans experimented with a stern-wheel steamboat on the Delaware
River, while at the same time John C. Stevens was experimenting with a
screw-propeller on the Hudson. Nothing practical had as yet come from
these attempts. The public seemed to regard them as matters which did
not concern it, and the few thousand dollars needed to pay for a proper
engine and hull could with difficulty be wrung from capitalists, who
were derided for their folly. Fulton worked with better support than
his predecessors had enjoyed, but with little encouragement or show of
interest from the press or the public.

So far as concerned activity of mind, politics still engrossed public
attention. The summer of 1806, quiet and prosperous as it seemed,
betrayed uneasiness,--a mysterious political activity, connected
with no legitimate purpose of party. Except in Connecticut and
Massachusetts, the Federalists, as an organized body, could hardly be
said to exist. Democrats, Republicans, and Federalists were divided
for the moment rather by social distinctions than by principle; but
the division was not the less real. Every year added strength to the
national instinct; but every year brought also a nearer certainty
that the denationalizing forces, whether in New England under Timothy
Pickering, or in Virginia under John Randolph, or in Louisiana
under some adventurer, would make an effort to break the chain that
hampered local interests and fettered private ambition. Under a
Virginia President and a slave-owning majority of Congress, the old
anti-national instinct of Virginia was paralyzed, and the dangers
to rise from it were postponed; but the freer play was given to the
passions of Boston and New Orleans,--to the respectable seditiousness
of Timothy Pickering and the veneered profligacy of Aaron Burr. The
time had come when Burr was to bring his conspiracy to the test of
action, and to try the strength of a true democracy. During the autumn
of 1806 Burr’s projects and movements roused a sudden panic, less
surprising than the tolerance with which his conspiracy had been so
long treated by the President and the press.




                              CHAPTER X.


WHEN Burr ceased to be Vice-President of the United States,
March 4, 1805, he had already made himself intimate with every element
of conspiracy that could be drawn within his reach. The list of his
connections might have startled Jefferson, if the President’s easy
optimism had not been proof to fears. In London, Burr’s friend Colonel
Williamson confided his plans to Pitt and Lord Melville. At Washington
the British minister, Merry, wrote to Lord Mulgrave in support of
Williamson’s negotiation. The creole deputies from New Orleans were
Burr’s friends, and Derbigny was acquainted with “certain projects” he
entertained. General Wilkinson, governor of the Louisiana Territory,
whose headquarters were at St. Louis, closely attached to Burr almost
from childhood, stood ready for any scheme that promised to gratify
inordinate ambition. James Brown, Secretary of the Territory, was
Burr’s creature. Judge Prevost, of the Superior Court at New Orleans,
was Burr’s stepson. Jonathan Dayton, whose term as senator ended the
same day with Burr’s vice-presidency, shared and perhaps suggested
the “projects.” John Smith, the senator from Ohio, was under the
influence of Burr and Dayton. John Adair of Kentucky was in Wilkinson’s
confidence. The Swartwouts in New York, with the “little band” who made
Burr their idol, stood ready to follow him wherever he might lead. In
South Carolina Joseph Allston, the husband of Theodosia Burr, might
be induced to aid his father-in-law; and Allston was supposed to be
the richest planter in the South, worth a million of dollars in slaves
and plantations. The task of uniting these influences and at a given
moment raising the standard of a new empire in the Mississippi Valley
seemed to an intriguer of Burr’s metal not only feasible, but certain
of success.

After the parting interview with Merry in March, 1805, when they
arranged terms to be asked of the British government, Burr went to
Philadelphia, and in April crossed the mountains to Pittsburg, on his
way to New Orleans. Wilkinson was to have joined him; but finding that
Wilkinson had been delayed, Burr went on alone. Floating down the Ohio,
his ark lashed to that of Matthew Lyon, he first stopped a few hours at
an island about two miles below Parkersburg, where an Irish gentleman
named Blennerhassett lived, and where he had spent a sum, for that day
considerable, in buildings and improvements. The owner was absent;
but Mrs. Blennerhassett was at home, and invited Burr to dinner. The
acquaintance thus begun proved useful to him. Passing to Cincinnati,
he became, May 11, 1805, a guest in the house of Senator Smith. Dayton
was already there; but Wilkinson arrived a few days later, after Burr
had gone on by land to Nashville. Wilkinson publicly talked much of
a canal around the Falls of the Ohio River, to explain the community
of interest which seemed to unite himself with Burr, Dayton, and
Senator Smith; but privately he wrote, May 28, to John Adair, soon to
be Breckenridge’s successor as senator from Kentucky: “I was to have
introduced my friend Burr to you; but in this I failed by accident. He
understands your merits, and reckons on you. Prepare to visit me, and I
will tell you all. We must have a peep at the unknown world beyond me.”

Meanwhile Burr reached Nashville in Tennessee, where he was received
with enthusiastic hospitality. Every one at or near the town seemed to
contend for the honor of best treating or serving him.[152] Dinners
were given, toasts were drunk; the newspapers were filled with his
doings. No one equalled Andrew Jackson in warmth of devotion to Colonel
Burr. At all times of his life Jackson felt sympathy with a duellist
who had killed his man; but if his support was enlisted for the
duellist who had killed Hamilton, his passions were excited in favor of
the man who should drive the Spaniards from America; and Burr announced
that this was to be the mission of his life. As major-general of the
Tennessee militia, Jackson looked forward to sharing this exploit.

After spending a week or more at Nashville, Burr descended in one of
General Jackson’s boats to the mouth of the Cumberland, where his ark
was waiting; and June 6 he joined General Wilkinson at Fort Massac,--a
military post on the north shore of the Ohio River, a few miles above
its junction with the Mississippi. The two men remained together at
Massac four days, and Burr wrote to his daughter, Mrs. Allston: “The
General and his officers fitted me out with an elegant barge,--sails,
colors, and ten oars,--with a sergeant and ten able, faithful hands.
Thus equipped, I left Massac on the 10th June.” Wilkinson supplied
him also with a letter of introduction to Daniel Clark, the richest
and most prominent American in New Orleans. Dated June 9, 1805, it
announced that the bearer would carry secrets. “To him I refer you for
many things improper to letter, and which he will not say to any other.”

While Burr went down the river to New Orleans, Wilkinson turned
northward to St. Louis, where he arrived July 2. He was in high spirits
and indiscreet. Two of his subordinate officers, Major Hunt and Major
Bruff, afterward told how he sounded them,--and Major Bruff’s evidence
left no doubt that Wilkinson shared in the ideas of Burr and Dayton;
that he looked forward to a period of anarchy and confusion in the
Eastern States, as the result of democracy; and that he intended to
set up a military empire in Louisiana. Already, June 24, he signed
Lieutenant Pike’s instructions to explore the headwaters of the
Arkansas River. Adair, certainly in the secret, believed the object
of this expedition to be the opening of a road to Santa Fé and to the
mines of Mexico.[153] Every recorded letter or expression of Wilkinson
during the spring and summer of 1805 showed that he was in the
confidence of Burr and Dayton; that he gave them active aid in their
scheme for severing the Union; and that they in their turn embraced his
project of Mexican conquest.

Burr reached New Orleans June 25, 1805, and remained a fortnight,
entertained by the enemies of Governor Claiborne and of the Spaniards.
Conspiracies were commonly most active and most dangerous when most
secret; and the mark of secrecy, almost wholly wanting to this
conspiracy in the Northern States, was never removed, by any public
inquiry or admission, from its doings at New Orleans. According to the
story afterward told by Wilkinson on the evidence of Lieutenant Spence,
Burr on his arrival in Louisiana became acquainted with the so-called
Mexican Association,--a body of some three hundred men, leagued
together for the emancipation of Mexico from Spanish rule.[154] Of this
league Daniel Clark afterward declared that he was not a member; but
if his safety as a merchant required him to keep aloof, his sympathies
were wholly with the Association. After Burr’s arrival, and under his
influence, the scheme of disunion was made a part of the Mexican plan;
and these projects soon became so well known in New Orleans as to reach
the ears of the Spanish agents and excite their suspicions, until Clark
two months later complained to Wilkinson that Burr’s indiscretion
was bringing them all into danger.[155] Clark’s letter was written
as though he were an innocent bystander annoyed at finding himself
included in an imaginary conspiracy against the Spanish government.
In truth it seemed also to be written as a warning to Burr against
trusting a certain “Minor of Natchez”:--

   “Were I sufficiently intimate with Mr. Burr, and knew where
   to direct a line to him, I should take the liberty of writing
   to him. Perhaps, finding Minor in his way, he was endeavoring
   to extract something from him,--he has amused himself at the
   blockhead’s expense,--and then Minor has retailed the news
   to his employers. Inquire of Mr. Burr about this and let me
   know on my return [from Vera Cruz], which will be in three or
   four months. The tale is a horrid one if well told. Kentucky,
   Tennessee, the State of Ohio, the four territories on the
   Mississippi and Ohio, with part of Georgia and Carolina, are to
   be bribed with the plunder of the Spanish countries west of us
   to separate from the Union.”

This letter, written by Clark, Sept. 7, 1805, showed that Burr’s plans
were notorious at New Orleans, and that his indiscretion greatly
annoyed his friends. Two years afterward, Wilkinson reminded Clark of
the letter.[156]

   “You will recollect,” wrote Wilkinson, “you desired me to
   write Burr on the subject, which I did, and also gave his
   brother-in-law, Dr. Brown, an extract of your letter to transmit
   him.”

Burr’s reply has been preserved:--

   “Your letter of November,” he wrote to Wilkinson,[157] Jan.
   6, 1806, “which came, I believe, through J. Smith, has been
   received and answered. Your friend [Clark] suspects without
   reason the person [Minor] named in his letter to you. I love
   the society of that person; but surely I could never be guilty
   of the folly of confiding to one of his levity anything which
   I wished not to be repeated. Pray do not disturb yourself with
   such nonsense.”

Daniel Clark and Wilkinson were therefore assured, not that the tale
was untrue, but that Burr had not confided to Minor, or “to one of his
levity” anything which Burr “wished not to be repeated.” Nevertheless
Clark, whose abilities were far greater than those of Burr, and whose
motives for secrecy were stronger, knew that Burr must have talked
with extreme indiscretion, for his plans had already come to the ears
of the Spanish agents in Louisiana. Many residents of New Orleans knew
of the scheme,--“many absurd and wild reports are circulated here,”
wrote Clark; and whether they shared it or not, they certainly did not
denounce it.

No plea of ignorance could avail any of Burr’s friends. His schemes
were no secret. As early as Aug. 4, 1805, more than a month before
Daniel Clark sent his warning to General Wilkinson, the British
minister was so much alarmed at the publicity already given to the
plot that he wrote to Lord Mulgrave a panic-stricken letter, evidently
supposing that the scheme was ruined by Burr’s indiscretion:[158]--

   “He or some of his agents have either been indiscreet in their
   communications, or have been betrayed by some person in whom
   they considered that they had reason to confide; for the object
   of his journey has now begun to be noticed in the public prints,
   where it is said that a convention is to be called immediately
   from the States bordering on the Ohio and Mississippi for the
   purpose of forming a separate government. It is, however,
   possible that the business may be so far advanced as, from the
   nature of it, to render any further secrecy impossible.”

The French minister was hardly less well informed. Feb. 13, 1806,
Turreau wrote to his government,[159] mentioning Miranda’s departure,
and adding,--

   “The project of effecting a separation between the Western and
   Atlantic States marches abreast with this one. Burr, though
   displeased at first by the arrival of Miranda, who might reduce
   him to a secondary _rôle_, has set off again for the
   South, after having had several conferences with the British
   minister. It seems to me that the Government does not penetrate
   Burr’s views, and that the difficult circumstances in which
   it finds itself, and where it has placed itself, force it to
   dissimulate. This division of the confederated States appears
   to me inevitable, and perhaps less remote than is commonly
   supposed; but would this event, which England seems to favor, be
   really contrary to the interests of France? And, assuming it to
   take place, should we not have a better chance to withdraw, if
   not both confederations, at least one of them, from the yoke of
   England?”

That Burr should have concealed from his principal allies--the creoles
of New Orleans--plans which he communicated so freely elsewhere,
was not to be imagined. Burr remained only about a fortnight at New
Orleans; then returned on horseback through Natchez to Nashville,
where he became again the guest of Andrew Jackson. He passed the month
of August in Tennessee and Kentucky; then struck into the wilderness
across the Indiana Territory to St. Louis in order to pass a week
more with General Wilkinson and Secretary Brown. He found Wilkinson
discouraged by the rebuffs he had met in attempting to seduce his
subordinate officers and the people of the territory into the scheme.
Although Wilkinson afterward swore solemnly that he had no part or
parcel in Burr’s disunion project, his own evidence proved that
the subject had been discussed between them, and that his fears of
failure had at the time of their meeting at St. Louis checked his
enthusiasm:[160]--

   “Mr. Burr, speaking of the imbecility of the government, said
   it would moulder to pieces, die a natural death,--or words to
   that effect; adding that the people of the Western country were
   ready to revolt. To this I recollect replying that if he had not
   profited more by his journey in other respects, he had better
   have remained at Washington or Philadelphia; for ‘surely,’ said
   I, ‘my friend, no person was ever more mistaken. The Western
   people disaffected to the government! They are bigoted to
   Jefferson and democracy.’”

Wilkinson afterward claimed to have written at that time a letter to
the Secretary of the Navy warning him against Burr; but the letter
never reached its supposed address. He certainly gave to Burr a letter
of introduction to Governor Harrison, of the Indiana Territory,
which suggested decline of sympathy with the conspiracy; for it
urged Harrison to return the bearer as the Territorial delegate to
Congress,--a boon on which the Union “may much depend.”[161]

Burr reached St. Louis Sept. 11, 1805; he left it September 19, for
Vincennes and the East. Two months afterward he arrived at Washington
and hurried to the British legation. His friend Dayton, who had been
detained by a long illness in the West, arrived and made his report to
Merry only two days before.

The conspiracy counted on the aid of Great Britain, which was to be the
pivot of the scheme; but Burr’s hopes were blasted by learning from
Merry that no answer had been received from the British government
in reply to the request for money and ships. Merry explained that an
accident had happened to the packet-boat, but both had reason to know
that hope of aid from the British government had vanished.

   “These disappointments gave him, he [Burr] said,[162] the
   deepest concern, because his journey through the Western
   country and Louisiana as far as New Orleans, as well as through
   a part of West Florida, had been attended with so much more
   success than he had even looked for, that everything was in
   fact completely prepared in every quarter for the execution of
   his plan; and because he had therefore been induced to enter
   into an engagement with his associates and friends to return
   to them in the month of March next, in order to commence the
   operations. He had been encouraged, he said, to go such lengths
   by the communications he had received from Colonel Williamson,
   which gave him some room to hope and expect that his Majesty’s
   government were disposed to afford him their assistance.... He
   was sensible that no complete understanding on the subject could
   well take place without verbal communication; but he flattered
   himself that enough might be explained in this way to give a
   commencement to the business, and that any ulterior arrangements
   might safely be left till the personal interviews he should
   have with the persons properly authorized for the purpose, whom
   he recommended to be sent with the ships of war, which it was
   necessary should cruise off the mouth of the Mississippi at the
   latest by the 10th of April next, and to continue there until
   the commanding officer should receive information from him or
   from Mr. Daniel Clark of the country having declared itself
   independent. He wished the naval force in question to consist of
   two or three ships of the line, the same number of frigates, and
   a proportionable number of smaller vessels.”

The British minister was curious to know precisely the result of the
Western tour; but on this subject Burr talked vaguely, and, contrary to
his usual custom, mentioned few names.

   “Throughout the Western country persons of the greatest property
   and influence had engaged themselves to contribute very
   largely toward the expense of the enterprise; at New Orleans
   he represented the inhabitants to be so firmly resolved upon
   separating themselves from their union with the United States,
   and every way to be so completely prepared, that he was sure the
   revolution there would be accomplished without a drop of blood
   being shed, the American force in that country (should it not,
   as he had good reason to believe, enlist with him) not being
   sufficiently strong to make any opposition. It was accordingly
   there that the revolution would commence, at the end of April or
   the beginning of May, provided his Majesty’s government should
   consent to lend their assistance toward it, and the answer,
   together with the pecuniary aid which would be wanted, arrived
   in time to enable him to set out the beginning of March.”

From Pitt, besides the naval force, Burr wanted a credit for one
hundred and ten thousand pounds, to be given in the names of John
Barclay of Philadelphia, and Daniel Clark of New Orleans. In his report
to Merry on the results of the Western tour he said no more than he
had a right to say, without violent exaggeration. He barely hinted at
complicity on the part of Wilkinson, Smith, Adair, and Andrew Jackson.
He gave Merry clearly to understand that the heart of his plot was not
in the Ohio Valley, but at New Orleans. He laid little weight on the
action of Kentucky or Tennessee; with him, the point of control was
among the creoles.

   “Mr. Burr stated to me--what I have reason to believe to be true
   from the information I have received from other quarters--that
   when he reached Louisiana he found the inhabitants so impatient
   under the American government that they had actually prepared
   a representation of their grievances, and that it was in
   agitation to send deputies with it to Paris. The hope, however,
   of becoming completely independent, and of forming a much more
   beneficial connection with Great Britain, having been pointed
   out to them, and this having already prevailed among many of the
   principal people who are become his associates, they had found
   means to obtain a suspension of the plan of having recourse to
   France.”

Burr impressed Merry with the idea that West Florida was also to be
taken within the scope of his scheme. “The overture which had been
made to him at New Orleans from a person of the greatest influence in
East and West Florida, and the information he had otherwise acquired
respecting the state of those countries,” were among the reasons which
he pressed upon the British government as motives for aiding the
conspiracy with a naval force. England was then at war with Spain.

One more argument was pressed by Burr, for no one knew better than he
the use to which New England might be put.

   “He observed--what I readily conceive may happen--that when
   once Louisiana and the Western country became independent, the
   Eastern States will separate themselves immediately from the
   Southern; and that thus the immense power which is now risen up
   with so much rapidity in the western hemisphere will, by such a
   division, be rendered at once informidable.”

Whatever may have been Merry’s sympathies or wishes, he could do no
more than report Burr’s conversation to Lord Mulgrave with as much
approval as he dared give it. Meanwhile Burr was thrown into extreme
embarrassment by the silence of Mulgrave. Burr’s report showed that
the creoles in New Orleans, with Daniel Clark as their financial ally,
were induced to countenance the conspiracy only because they believed
it to be supported by England. Without that support, Burr could not
depend on creole assistance. Had he been wise, he would have waited;
and perhaps he might in the end have brought the British government
to accept his terms. If Pitt intended to plunder American commerce and
to kidnap American citizens, he must be prepared to do more; and Burr
might calculate on seeing the British Tories placed by their own acts
in a position where they could not afford to neglect his offers.

Burr stayed a week in Washington; and although the object of his
Western journey was so notorious that even the newspapers talked about
it, his reception at the White House and at the departments was as
cordial as usual. About Dec. 1, 1805, he returned to Philadelphia,
where he began the effort to raise from new sources the money which
till then he hoped to provide by drafts on the British treasury. The
conspirators were driven to extraordinary shifts. Burr undertook the
task of drawing men like Blennerhassett into his toils, and induced
Dayton to try an experiment, resembling the plot of a comic opera
rather than the seriousness of historical drama.

Dec. 5, 1805, as Miranda was leaving New York to entrap Madison, three
days after Burr had returned to Philadelphia from his unsatisfactory
interview with Merry, the Marquis of Casa Yrujo, as yet innocent of
conspiracy, and even flattering himself upon having restored friendly
relations with the Government, received a secret visit at his house in
Philadelphia from Jonathan Dayton, whom he had known at Washington as
the Federalist senator from New Jersey. Dayton, in a mysterious manner,
gave him to understand that the Spanish government would do well to
pay thirty or forty thousand dollars for certain secrets; and finding
the marquis disposed to listen, Dayton recited a curious tale.

   “This secret,” said he,[163] “is known at the present moment
   to only three persons in this country. I am one of them; and
   I will tell you that toward the end of the last session and
   near the end of last March Colonel Burr had various very secret
   conferences with the British minister, to whom he proposed a
   plan not only for taking the Floridas, but also for effecting
   the separation and independence of the Western States,--a part
   of this plan being that the Floridas should be associated in
   this new federative republic; England to receive as the price of
   her services a decisive preference in matters of commerce and
   navigation, and to secure these advantages by means of a treaty
   to be made as soon as she should recognize this new republic.
   This plan obtained the approval of the British minister, who
   sent it and recommended it to his Court. Meanwhile Colonel
   Burr has been in New Orleans, in the Mississippi Territory,
   in the States of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Ohio, to sound and
   prepare their minds for this revolution. In all these States
   he has found the most favorable disposition, not only for this
   emancipation, which the Western States evidently desire, but
   also for making an expedition against the kingdom of Mexico.
   This is an idea that occurred to us after sending the first plan
   to London; and having given greater extension to the project,
   Colonel Burr sent to London a despatch with his new ideas to
   Colonel Williamson,--an English officer who has been many years
   in this country, and whose return he expects within a month
   or six weeks. The first project was very well received by the
   English Cabinet, and more particularly by Mr. Dundas, or Lord
   Melville, who was the person charged with this correspondence;
   but as he had reason to fear dismission from office for causes
   well known through the debates of Parliament, this plan has
   suffered some delay; but Mr. Pitt has again turned his attention
   to it.”

On the strength of this information Dayton seriously proposed to
terrify Yrujo and Don Carlos IV. into paying the expenses of Burr’s
expedition. An idea so fantastic could have sprung from no mind except
Burr’s; but, fantastic as it was, he pursued it obstinately, although
by doing so he betrayed to Spain the followers whom he was striving to
inveigle into an imaginary assault on Spanish empire. Dayton asserted
that the revolution would begin on the appearance of the British
squadron off the coast of West Florida in February or March, 1806; that
to make this revolution more popular, after the Floridas were taken,
the expedition against Mexico would be attempted; that they feared no
opposition from a government so weak as the Federal; that the United
States troops were all in the West, and that Colonel Burr had caused
them to be sounded in regard to the expedition against Mexico; that
they were all ready to follow him, and he did not doubt that there
existed in them the same disposition to sustain the rights of the
Western States, in which they lived, against the impotent forces of
the Federal government; that Mexico was to be assailed, in co-operation
with the English fleet, by troops to be disembarked at Tampico or
thereabout; and that the revolutionized Spanish possessions would be
made republics.

To reveal such a plan was to destroy its chance of success; and in
thus presenting himself before the Spanish minister Dayton appeared
as a traitor not only to the Union, but also to the conspirators
with whom he was engaged. Such a character was not likely to create
confidence. Yrujo instantly saw that Burr stood behind Dayton; that
England could not have encouraged the conspiracy, for, had she done
so, the conspirators would never come to beg a few thousand dollars
from Spain; and that the Mexican scheme, if it ever existed, must
have been already abandoned, or it would not have been revealed.
Dismissing the ex-senator with civility and a promise to talk with
him further, Yrujo wrote to his Government a long account of the
interview. He pointed at once to Clark as the person through whom
Burr drew his information about Mexico. Yrujo was perplexed only by
Jefferson’s apparent blindness to the doings in the West. The marquis
was a Spaniard; and for twenty years the people of the United States
had talked of Spaniards with contempt. Even Jefferson freely assumed
their faithlessness and paltriness; but surely if Yrujo had cared to
concentrate in a few words his opinion of American political character,
no American could have wondered if these few words, like a flash of
lightning, left no living thing where they struck.

   “I am sure,” he wrote to Cevallos, “that the Administration will
   not let itself be deceived by Colonel Burr’s wiles; but I know
   that the President, although penetrating and detesting as well
   as fearing him, and for this reason, not only invites him to
   his table, but only about five days ago had a secret conference
   with him which lasted more than two hours, and in which I am
   confident there was as little good faith on the one side as
   there was on the other.”

The assertion could not be denied. The White House rarely saw, within a
few days’ interval, two less creditable guests than Aaron Burr, fresh
from confiding his plans to Anthony Merry, and Francesco de Miranda,
openly engaged in a military attack from the port of New York upon the
dominions of Spain.

Yrujo was at first inclined to distrust Dayton; but Miranda’s
undertaking, which crossed Burr’s plans, gave to the ex-senator the
means of proving his good faith. Indeed, in a few days more, Dayton
made a clean breast, admitting that England had disappointed Burr’s
expectations, and that Burr had authorized the offer to sell his
services to Spain.

   “I have had with him two very long conferences,” wrote Yrujo
   three weeks later,[164] “in which he has told me that Colonel
   Burr will not treat with Miranda, whom he considers imprudent,
   and wanting in many qualities necessary for an undertaking of
   such magnitude as he has on hand. Miranda has returned to
   New York, much piqued at finding that Colonel Burr was very
   determined to have nothing to do with him. He also told me that
   Colonel Williamson, who was sent to London with the plan for the
   British ministry, not finding Mr. Pitt so warm as Lord Melville
   for the project of raising the Western States, had turned to
   plans in that capital, and showed, by the want of exactness in
   his correspondence, that he was not following up the object with
   the same zeal as at first he undertook it; that in consequence
   they were disposed to despatch to London a New York gentleman
   named Warton, well known for his intimacy with Burr, but that
   on the verge of his departure another plan suggested itself to
   Burr, which he seems rather inclined to execute. This plan,
   excepting the attack on the Floridas, has the same object, which
   he, as well as his chief friends, hope may be put in execution
   even without foreign aid. For one who does not know the country,
   its constitution, and, above all, certain localities, this
   plan would appear almost insane; but I confess, for my part,
   that in view of all the circumstances it seems to me easy
   to execute, although it will irritate the Atlantic States,
   especially those called central,--that is, Virginia, Maryland,
   Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York. It is beyond
   question that there exists in this country an infinite number of
   adventurers, without property, full of ambition, and ready to
   unite at once under the standard of a revolution which promises
   to better their lot. Equally certain is it that Burr and his
   friends, without discovering their true object, have succeeded
   in getting the good-will of these men, and inspiring the
   greatest confidence among them in favor of Burr.”

The “almost insane” plan which Dayton unfolded to the Spanish minister
was nothing less than to introduce by degrees into the city of
Washington a certain number of men in disguise, well armed, who, at a
signal from Burr, were to seize the President, Vice-President, and the
President of the Senate,--the substitute always named at the beginning
of each session, in case of the death, illness, or absence of the two
first. Having thus secured the heads of government, the conspirators
were to seize the public money deposited in the Washington and
Georgetown banks, and to take possession of the arsenal on the Eastern
Branch. Burr hoped by this blow to delay or paralyze opposition,
and perhaps to negotiate with the individual States an arrangement
favorable to himself; but in the more probable case that he could not
maintain himself at Washington, he would burn all the national vessels
at the Navy Yard, except the two or three which were ready for service,
and embarking on these with his followers and the treasure, he would
sail for New Orleans and proclaim the emancipation of Louisiana and the
Western States.

Wild as this scheme was, it occupied Burr’s mind for the rest of the
winter, and he made many efforts to draw discontented officers of the
government into it. He sounded Commodore Truxton, without revealing
his whole object; but to William Eaton, the hero of Derne, he opened
himself with as much confidence as to Merry and Yrujo. Eaton was at
Washington in January and February, 1806, sore at the manner in which
his claims were treated by Congress, and extravagant in ideas of
his own importance. To him Burr laid open the whole secret, even in
regard to the plan for attacking Washington. The story was the same
which had been told to Merry and Yrujo.[165] He spoke of Wilkinson as
his second in command; of his son-in-law, Allston, as engaged in the
enterprise; and of New Orleans as the capital of his Western empire,
whence an expedition would be sent for the conquest of Mexico. The
line of demarcation was to be the Alleghany Mountains; and although
he expressed some doubts about Ohio, he declared himself certain of
Kentucky and Tennessee.

   “If he could gain over the marine corps and secure to his
   interests the naval commanders Truxton, Preble, Decatur, and
   others, he would turn Congress neck and heels out of doors,
   assassinate the President (or what amounted to that), and
   declare himself the protector of an energetic government.”

The scheme of attacking Washington was merely an episode due to Burr’s
despair of British or Spanish aid. Burr was reduced to many devices
in order to keep his conspiracy alive. December 12, immediately after
the disappointing interview with Merry, and Dayton’s first advance to
Casa Yrujo, Burr wrote to Wilkinson a letter evidently intended to
conceal his diplomatic disaster and to deceive his friend. He said that
there would be no war with Spain, and foretold the peaceful course
of Government.[166] “In case of such warfare, Lee would have been
commander-in-chief. Truth, I assure you. He must you know come from
Virginia.” As to the conspiracy, he reserved it for a few short lines,
intelligible enough to those who knew that New Orleans was to declare
its independence on the arrival of a British squadron in February, and
that the revolutionary government would at once send a delegation to
Natchez or St. Louis to make a formal tender of military command to
General Wilkinson.

   “On the subject of a certain speculation it is not deemed
   material to write till the whole can be communicated. The
   circumstance referred to in a letter from Ohio remains in
   suspense. The auspices, however, are favorable, and it is
   believed that Wilkinson will give audience to a delegation,
   composed of Adair and Dayton, in February.”

Meanwhile the Government asked no questions. Denunciation of Burr and
Wilkinson was dangerous; it was tried again and again with disastrous
results. Major Bruff, at St. Louis, who suspected the truth, dared not
bring such a charge against his superior officer:[167] but a certain
Judge Easton, to whom Burr confided at St. Louis, ventured to write
a letter to a senator of the United States charging Wilkinson with
being concerned in Miranda’s expedition; and was told in reply that the
letter was burned, and that the writer should mind his own business,
and take care how he meddled with men high in power and office. So
thick an atmosphere of intrigue, especially in Spanish matters, was
supposed to pervade the White House; men’s minds were so befogged
with public messages about a Spanish war and secret messages about
peace, with private encouragement to Miranda and public punishment of
Miranda’s friends, with John Randolph’s furious charges of duplicity
and Madison’s helpless silence under these charges,--that until the
President himself should say the word, Burr, Wilkinson, Dayton, and
their associates were safe, and might hatch treason in the face of all
the world.

President Jefferson had already too many feuds on his hands, and Burr
had still too many friends, to warrant rousing fresh reprisals at a
time when the difficulties of the Administration were extreme. The
President continued to countenance Burr in public, alleging in private
that the people could be trusted to defeat his schemes. Doubtless the
people could be trusted for that purpose, but they had instituted a
government in order to provide themselves with proper machinery for
such emergencies, and the President alone could set it in action.
General Eaton made an attempt to put the President on his guard. He
first consulted two leading Federalist Congressmen,--John Cotton Smith
and Samuel Dana,--who advised him to hold his tongue, for his solitary
word would not avail against the weight of Burr’s character.[168]
Nevertheless, in March, 1806, he called at the White House and saw the
President.

   “After a desultory conversation, in which I aimed to draw
   his attention to the West, I took the liberty of suggesting
   to the President that I thought Colonel Burr ought to be
   removed from the country, because I considered him dangerous
   in it. The President asked where he should send him. I said
   to England or Madrid.... The President, without any positive
   expression, in such a matter of delicacy, seemed to think the
   trust too important, and expressed something like a doubt about
   the integrity of Mr. Burr. I frankly told the President that
   perhaps no person had stronger grounds to suspect that integrity
   than I had; but that I believed his pride of ambition had so
   predominated over his other passions that when placed on an
   eminence and put on his honor, a respect to himself would secure
   his fidelity. I perceived that the subject was disagreeable to
   the President; and to bring him to my point in the shortest
   mode, and in a manner which would point to the danger, I said to
   him, if Colonel Burr was not disposed of, we should in eighteen
   months have an insurrection, if not a revolution, on the
   waters of the Mississippi. The President said he had too much
   confidence in the information, the integrity, and attachment
   of the people of that country to the Union, to admit any
   apprehensions of that kind.”

If the President had confidence in the people of New Orleans, he had
not shown it in framing a form of government for them; and if he
admitted no apprehensions in March, 1806, he admitted many before the
year closed. In truth, he deceived himself. That he was afraid of Burr
and of the sympathy which Burr’s career had excited, was the belief of
Burr himself, who responded to Jefferson’s caution by a contempt so
impudent as to seem even then almost incredible. Believing that the
President dared not touch him, Burr never cared to throw even a veil
over his treason. He used the President’s name and the names of his
Cabinet officers as freely as though he were President himself; and no
one contradicted or disavowed him. So matters remained at Washington
down to the close of the session.

   “I detailed,” said Eaton,[169] “the whole projects of Mr.
   Burr to certain members of Congress. They believed Colonel
   Burr capable of anything, and agreed that the fellow ought to
   be hanged, but thought his projects too chimerical, and his
   circumstances too desperate, to give the subject the merit of
   serious consideration.”




                              CHAPTER XI.


THE death of Pitt destroyed all immediate possibility of
drawing England into conspiracy with Burr,--if indeed a possibility
had ever existed. The attempt to obtain money from Spain was equally
hopeless. Except for Madison’s conduct in receiving Miranda and
refusing to receive Yrujo, Dayton would probably have obtained nothing
from Spain; but the information he was able to give Yrujo in regard to
Miranda’s plans and proceedings deserved reward, and Dayton received at
different times sums of money, amounting in all to about three thousand
dollars, from the Spanish treasury. Dayton’s private necessities
required much larger sums.

Burr was also ruined. He could not return to New York, where an
indictment hung over his head. Conspiracy was easier than poverty; but
conspiracy without foreign aid was too wild a scheme for other men to
join. Jefferson might at that moment have stopped Burr’s activity by
sending word privately to him and his friends that their projects must
be dropped; but Jefferson, while closing every other path, left that
of conspiracy open to Burr, who followed it only with much difficulty.
In order to retain any friends or followers he was obliged to deceive
them all, and entangle himself and them in an elaborate network of
falsehood. Dayton alone knew the truth, and helped him to deceive.

April 16, 1806, a few days before the adjournment of Congress, Burr
wrote to Wilkinson a letter implying that Wilkinson had required
certain conditions and an enlargement of the scheme; Burr assured him
that his requirements, which probably concerned aid from Truxton,
Preble, Eaton, and Decatur, had been fully satisfied:--

   “The execution of our project is postponed till December. Want
   of water in Ohio rendered movement impracticable; other reasons
   rendered delay expedient. The association is enlarged, and
   comprises all that Wilkinson could wish. Confidence limited
   to a few. Though this delay is irksome, it will enable us to
   move with more certainty and dignity. Burr will be throughout
   the United States this summer. Administration is damned which
   Randolph aids. Burr wrote you a long letter last December,
   replying to a short one deemed very silly. Nothing has been
   heard from the Brigadier since October. Is Cushing and Porter
   right? Address Burr at Washington.”[170]

Burr’s letters to Wilkinson were always in cipher, and mysteriously
worded; but in this despatch nothing was unintelligible. Wilkinson
afterward explained that he was himself the “Brigadier,” and the two
names were those of officers under his command.

The same western mail which carried this letter to Wilkinson carried
another to Blennerhassett, inviting him to join in a “speculation,”
which would “not be commenced before December, if ever.” Probably
Burr made many other efforts to obtain money from petty sources; he
certainly exerted himself to delude the Spanish government into lending
him assistance. Hitherto he had left this task to Dayton, his secretary
of state, but May 14, 1806, the Spanish minister wrote to Don Pedro
Cevallos,[171]--

   “The principal [Burr] has opened himself to me; and the
   communications I have had with him confirm me in the idea,
   not only of the probability, but even of the facility, of
   his success, under certain circumstances. To insure it, some
   pecuniary aid on our part and on that of France is wanted. I
   have been careful to be very circumspect in my answers, and
   have not compromised myself in any manner; but when I return
   to Spain next spring I shall be bearer of the whole plan, with
   the details that may be wanted. There will also arrive in Spain
   before long, more or less simultaneously with me though by
   different ways, two or three very respectable persons, both
   from Louisiana and from Kentucky and Tennessee, with the same
   object. They all consider the interests of these countries as
   united and in conformity with those of Spain and France; but the
   principal, or more correctly the principals, here do not wish to
   open themselves to the Emperor Napoleon’s minister [Turreau],
   as they lack confidence in him. Consequently, it will be proper
   either not to communicate the matter at all to that government,
   or to do it with the intimation that its representative here
   shall not have the least notice of it; for, I repeat, they have
   no confidence in him, and this has been a condition imposed on
   me in the communications I have received.”

Finding Yrujo obstinate in refusing to advance money, Burr tried to
alarm him by pretending to take up again the scheme of attacking
Florida and Mexico. June 9, 1806, Yrujo wrote another long despatch
on the subject. Burr, he said, had suddenly ceased to visit him as
frequently as usual, and Dayton had explained the coldness as due to
Burr’s belief that the new Administration in England would be more
liberal and zealous than that of Pitt. Dayton added that Burr was
drawing up new instructions for Williamson; that he had even decided
to send Bollman to London to invite co-operation from the British
government in an attack on the Spanish possessions. Dayton professed to
have acted as the protector of Spain from Burr’s unprincipled ambition.

   “Dayton told me[172] he had observed to Burr that although
   he (Burr) was assuredly the principal, yet a plan of this
   nature ought to be put in deliberation in the cabinet council
   which certain chiefs are to hold in New Orleans in the month
   of December next, and that for his own part he thought this
   idea unjust and impolitic; to which Burr answered that they
   would always be able to alter the plan as circumstances should
   require, and that in fact this point, or at least the direction
   to be given to it, would be determined in New Orleans. Dayton
   told me that he would oppose with all his strength measures of
   this nature, and that he knew General Wilkinson, who was to be a
   member of the Congress, would make the same opposition; and that
   in order to drive the idea of such a temptation out of Burr’s
   head, and of other people’s also, it would be well for us to
   reinforce our garrisons at Pensacola and Mobile, and that then
   the circumstance of our respectable condition of defence might
   be used as a weighty argument for abandoning such a project.
   After holding this conference with me, Dayton returned to his
   residence; and before starting, wrote me a note to say that the
   night before Burr had read him the instructions to be given to
   Bollman, and that they were of the tenor indicated to me.”

Godoy and Cevallos were hardly so imbecile as to pay for creating at
New Orleans a new American empire more dangerous to Spanish possessions
than the peaceful republic over which Jefferson presided at Washington.
Don Pedro Cevallos read Yrujo’s despatches with great interest. At
first he even hinted that if the United States were bent on forcing
a war with Spain, these adventurers, in case of actual hostilities,
might be made useful;[173] but this suggestion was accompanied by
many warnings to Yrujo not to commit himself or to contribute money,
and at last by a flat announcement that the King would not in any way
encourage Burr’s designs.[174]

The conspirators were in a worse position as regarded England. By a
fatal stroke of ill-luck, Merry’s despatch of Nov. 25, 1805, written
to be read in secrecy by the Tory Lord Mulgrave, was received at the
Foreign Office Feb. 2, 1806, ten days after Pitt’s death, and was
probably opened by Charles James Fox,--almost the last man in England
to whom Merry would have willingly shown it. The only answer received
by Merry reached Washington about June 1, 1806, and consisted in the
dry announcement that his Majesty had been pleased to listen favorably
to Mr. Merry’s request for a recall, and had appointed the Hon. David
Montague Erskine as his successor.

Merry complained piteously that he had never suggested a wish to be
recalled, that he had indeed the strongest desire to remain, and felt
himself greatly aggrieved at his treatment; but Fox was remorseless,
and Merry could only prepare for Erskine’s arrival. Smarting under this
sudden reproof, Merry held his parting interview with Burr. Doubtless
it was as little cheerful on one side as on the other; but Merry did
not think himself required to give an immediate or a minute account of
it to Fox. He waited until Erskine’s arrival, and then, in one of his
last despatches, Nov. 2, 1806, after Burr had begun his operations in
the West, Merry wrote,[175]--

   “I saw this gentleman [Burr] for the last time at this place
   [Washington] in the month of June last, when he made particular
   inquiry whether I had received any answer from my Government to
   the propositions he had requested me to transmit to them, and
   lamented exceedingly that I had not, because he, and the persons
   connected with him at New Orleans, would now, though very
   reluctantly, be under the necessity of addressing themselves
   to the French and Spanish governments. He added, however, that
   the disposition of the inhabitants of the Western country, and
   particularly Louisiana, to separate themselves from the American
   Union was so strong that the attempt might be made with every
   prospect of success without any foreign assistance whatever; and
   his last words to me were that, with or without such support, it
   certainly would be made very shortly.”

After receiving this rebuff from England, Burr and Dayton needed
singular impudence to threaten Yrujo with the terror of Charles
James Fox; but impudence had become their only resource. Every step
taken thenceforward by the conspirators was taken by means of a new
imposture; until at last they became petty swindlers who lived from
day to day by cheating each other. How flagrant their imposture was,
has been partly shown in their attempt to deceive Yrujo; but their
treatment of Wilkinson was far more dishonest.

Toward the end of July, 1806, Burr had accomplished all that could be
done in the East, and prepared to begin his campaign to New Orleans.
By strenuous efforts money had been raised to set the subordinate
adventurers in motion. Among these were Erick Bollman, famous for an
attempt to rescue Lafayette from confinement at Olmütz; a French
officer named De Pestre, or Dupiester; Samuel Swartwout, a younger
brother of Robert; and finally young Peter V. Ogden, a nephew of
Dayton. The time had come when each actor must take his place, and must
receive orders as to the _rôle_ he was to play.

Of all Burr’s intimates, Wilkinson was not only the most important, but
also the most doubtful. He had hung back and had made conditions. Since
October, 1805, nothing had been heard from him, and his last letter had
contained objections “deemed very silly.” At last a letter, dated May
13, arrived. This letter never saw the light; afterward, at the trial,
Wilkinson challenged its production, and accused Burr of falsehood in
asserting that it had been destroyed at Wilkinson’s request or with his
knowledge. Only one conclusion might be taken as certain in regard to
its contents,--they did not suit the situation of Dayton and Burr.

Dayton’s reply was dated July 24, 1806, and was sent by his nephew,
Peter V. Ogden, to Wilkinson.

   “It is now well ascertained that you are to be displaced in next
   session,” wrote Dayton, working on his old friend’s pride and
   fears. “Jefferson will affect to yield reluctantly to the public
   sentiment, but yield he will. Prepare yourself, therefore,
   for it. You know the rest. You are not a man to despair, or
   even despond, especially when such prospects offer in another
   quarter. Are you ready? Are your numerous associates ready?
   Wealth and glory! Louisiana and Mexico!”

Together with this exhortation from Dayton, Burr sent a cipher
despatch, afterward famous as the key to the whole conspiracy.
Published at different times with varying versions, as suited
Wilkinson’s momentary objects, the correct reading probably ran very
nearly as follows:--

   “July 29, 1806. Your letter, postmarked 13th May, is received.
   At length I have obtained funds, and have actually commenced.
   The Eastern detachments, from different points and under
   different pretences, will rendezvous on the Ohio 1st of
   November. Everything internal and external favors our views.
   Naval protection of England is secured. Truxton is going to
   Jamaica to arrange with the admiral on that station. It will
   meet us at the Mississippi. England, a navy of the United
   States, are ready to join, and final orders are given to my
   friends and followers. It will be a host of choice spirits.
   Wilkinson shall be second to Burr only; Wilkinson shall
   dictate the rank and promotion of his officers. Burr will
   proceed westward 1st August, never to return. With him goes
   his daughter; the husband will follow in October, with a corps
   of worthies. Send forthwith an intelligent and confidential
   friend with whom Burr may confer; he shall return immediately
   with further interesting details; this is essential to concert
   and harmony of movement. Send a list of all persons known to
   Wilkinson west of the mountains who could be useful, with a note
   delineating their characters. By your messenger send me four or
   five commissions of your officers, which you can borrow under
   any pretence you please; they shall be returned faithfully.
   Already are orders given to the contractor to forward six
   months’ provisions to points Wilkinson may name; this shall
   not be used until the last moment, and then under proper
   injunctions. Our object, my dear friend, is brought to a point
   so long desired. Burr guarantees the result with his life and
   honor, with the lives and honor and the fortunes of hundreds,
   the best blood of our country. Burr’s plan of operation is to
   move down rapidly from the Falls, on the 15th of November, with
   the first five hundred or a thousand men, in light boats now
   constructing for that purpose; to be at Natchez between the 5th
   and 15th of December, there to meet you; there to determine
   whether it will be expedient in the first instance to seize on
   or pass by Baton Rouge. On receipt of this, send Burr an answer.
   Draw on Burr for all expenses, etc. The people of the country
   to which we are going are prepared to receive us; their agents,
   now with Burr, say that if we will protect their religion, and
   will not subject them to a foreign Power, that in three weeks
   all will be settled. The gods invite us to glory and fortune;
   it remains to be seen whether we deserve the boon. The bearer
   of this goes express to you. He is a man of inviolable honor
   and perfect discretion, formed to execute rather than project,
   capable of relating facts with fidelity, and incapable of
   relating them otherwise; he is thoroughly informed of the plans
   and intentions of Burr, and will disclose to you as far as you
   require, and no further. He has imbibed a reverence for your
   character, and may be embarrassed in your presence; put him at
   ease, and he will satisfy you.”

Had Burr and Dayton not felt strong reason to doubt Wilkinson’s course,
they would not have invented a tissue of falsehoods such as these
letters contained. So far as concerned Wilkinson’s future conduct, no
one could deny that this gross deception set him free from any ties
that might have previously bound him to Dayton or Burr.

Furnished with these and other letters almost equally compromising,
Ogden and Swartwout, at the end of July, started on their way.
Swartwout was directed to see Adair in Kentucky, and to deliver to him
despatches, the contents of which have never been made known, but were
doubtless identical with the letters to Wilkinson. At the same time
Erick Bollman started by sea with similar despatches for New Orleans.

Early in August Burr followed, taking with him his daughter Mrs.
Allston, and his chief of staff Colonel De Pestre. After crossing the
mountains he threw aside ordinary caution. At Canonsburg, about fifteen
miles beyond Pittsburg, he stopped at the house of an old friend,
Colonel Morgan, and there so freely asserted the imbecility of the
Federal government and the certainty of a speedy separation of the
Western States from the Eastern, that Morgan thought himself bound to
give President Jefferson a warning.

The conversation at Canonsburg took place in the afternoon and evening
of August 22. A few days afterward Burr arrived at Blennerhassett’s
island, where he found the owner waiting with enthusiasm to receive
him. Of all the eager dupes with whom Burr had to deal, this
intelligent and accomplished Irish gentleman was the most simple.
After wasting half his property on his island, he discovered that
he had left himself not more than thirty or forty thousand dollars
to live upon; and this small property was invested in funds which
produced so little as to leave him always embarrassed. He wished
ardently to make his fortune by some bold speculation; and Burr had no
more pressing necessity than to obtain the funds which Blennerhassett
burned to invest. Burr said to Blennerhassett in effect what he said to
Wilkinson; but Blennerhassett was less able than Wilkinson to detect
falsehood. The actual speculation which was to make Blennerhassett’s
fortune seemed certain of success. Burr had invented more than one
way of getting money; and among his various expedients none was more
ingenious than that of buying a certain Spanish claim, known as the
Bastrop grant, covering an immense district on the Red River, and
supposed to be owned in part by one Lynch in Kentucky. Burr had
undertaken to buy Lynch’s interest for forty thousand dollars, of which
only four thousand or five thousand dollars need be paid in money;
and he persuaded Blennerhassett that on the most moderate estimate,
they could reap from it the profit of a million. Blennerhassett was
assured that before the end of the year Louisiana would be independent,
with Burr for its ruler, under the protection of England. Wilkinson
and the United States army were pledged to accept the revolution and
to support Burr. Tennessee was secured; and though Kentucky and Ohio
were doubtful, they would end by following Tennessee. The government
at Washington would fall to pieces, and the new empire under a
stronger government, would rise at once to power. Then Bastrop’s
grant would take character; its actual cheapness was due to doubts as
to its validity: but the moment its validity was decided by the new
government, all whose members would be interested in it, the value of
the grant would become enormous; emigration would be directed to the
spot, and Blennerhassett’s fortune would be vast. He would, meanwhile,
go at once as minister to England, with Erick Bollman for secretary of
legation.[176]

In an incredibly short time Blennerhasset’s head was turned. Unluckily
for him, his wife’s head was turned even more easily than his own; and
the charms of Theodosia Allston, who became a guest at the island,
dazzled the eyes of both. Before Burr had been two days in the house,
Blennerhassett was so enthusiastic a supporter of the scheme that he
set himself to work, under Burr’s eye, to publish a series of essays in
order to show the State of Ohio that disunion was an infallible cure
for all its natural or acquired ills. The first of these essays was
quickly finished, taken to Marietta, and printed in the “Ohio Gazette”
of September 4 under the signature “Querist.”

September 2, before the “Querist” appeared, Burr continued his journey
down the river to Cincinnati, where he arrived September 4, and
remained a few days with Senator Smith, talking freely about the
impotence of the government, the rights and wrongs of the Western
people, and their inducements to set up a separate empire. September 10
he crossed the river to Lexington in Kentucky, and shortly afterward
went to Nashville in Tennessee.

Owing chiefly to the friendship of Andrew Jackson, the town of
Nashville was strongly attached to Burr, and was supposed to favor
the disunion scheme. Tennessee was the only State which Burr always
claimed positively as his own. Whether he had better grounds for his
confidence in Jackson than for his faith in Wilkinson and Daniel Clark
might be doubted; but Tennessee was at least vehement in hatred of the
Spaniards. The Spaniards were pressing close against Wilkinson’s little
force at Natchitoches, and Burr made use of the threatened war in order
to cover his own scheme. September 27 a public dinner was given to
him at Nashville, and Jackson offered as a toast the old sentiment of
1798: “Millions for defence; not a cent for tribute.” A few days later
Burr returned to Kentucky; and within a week suddenly appeared in the
newspaper at Nashville a strange proclamation signed “Andrew Jackson,
Major-General Second Division,” and dated Oct. 4, 1806, in which the
brigade commanders were ordered to place their brigades at once on
such a footing as would enable them on the shortest notice to supply
their quotas “when the government and constituted authorities of our
country” should require them to march. This unauthorized step was
commonly supposed to be taken in the interest of Burr’s conspiracy, and
compromised Jackson gravely in the eyes of the Government at Washington.

Meanwhile Theodosia Allston and her husband had been left in charge of
the Blennerhassetts, while Blennerhassett himself behaved as though
he were a village school-boy playing the part of chieftain in an
imaginary feudal castle. He went about the country raising recruits
and buying supplies, chattering to every young and active man he met
about the expedition which was to make their fortunes. He confided in
his gardener, a simple, straightforward fellow named Peter Taylor,
“that Colonel Burr would be king of Mexico, and that Mrs. Allston
would be queen of Mexico whenever Colonel Burr died.” He added that
Burr “had a great many friends in the Spanish territory; two thousand
Roman Catholic priests were enlisted in his corps; that those priests
and the societies which belonged to them were a strong party; that
the Spaniards, like the French, had got tired of their government
and wanted to swap it; that the British were also friends to this
expedition; and that he was the very man who was to go to England on
this piece of business for Colonel Burr.” When at the subsequent trial
Taylor told this tale, the world was incredulous, and insisted upon
disbelieving his story; but Blennerhassett’s papers proved the extent
of his delusion. By common consent the Blennerhassetts and Allstons
agreed that Theodosia was to inherit the empire from her father; but
doubts existed whether Allston could take the crown as Theodosia’s
husband. “I will win it by a better title,” he cried,--“by my deeds
in council and in field!”[177] Mrs. Blennerhassett was impatient to
exchange her solitary island for the court of her young empress;
and Blennerhassett longed to set sail as minister for England with
Erick Bollman for secretary of legation. Under the influence of this
intoxication, Blennerhassett offered to advance money to the extent of
all his property for Burr’s use if Allston would give him a written and
sealed guaranty to a certain amount; which Allston did.[178]

Leaving his wife at the island, while fifteen boats were building at
Marietta and kilns for baking bread were constructed on the island
itself, Blennerhassett went with the Allstons down the river to
Lexington, and there rejoined Burr on his return from Nashville, about
October 1. No time had been lost. The boats building at Marietta would
carry about five hundred men; others to be built elsewhere would carry
five hundred more. Recruiting went rapidly forward. Finally, the
purchase-money for Lynch’s interest in Bastrop’s grant, about four
or five thousand dollars, was paid; and Blennerhassett congratulated
himself on owning a share in four hundred thousand acres of land in the
heart of Louisiana.

To communicate with his friends in New York and Philadelphia, Burr
sent De Pestre October 25, with directions to report the movements
of the Western conspirators to the Marquis of Casa Yrujo, as well as
to Swartwout and Dayton. Burr gave De Pestre to understand that one
object of his mission was to blind the Spanish minister in regard to
the schemes against Mexico and Florida; in reality De Pestre’s mission
was probably for the purpose of raising money. Yrujo was already well
informed from other sources. November 10, before De Pestre’s arrival,
the Marquis wrote to his Government that some five hundred men were
collecting on the upper Ohio to move down the river in squads:[179]--

   “Colonel Burr will go down with them under pretext of
   establishing them on a great land-purchase he is supposed to
   have made. In passing Cincinnati they expect to get possession
   of five thousand stand of arms which the government deposited
   there at the time of its differences with us about the
   navigation of the Mississippi. After thus dropping the mask,
   this armed troop will follow down the course of the Mississippi.
   Colonel Burr will stop at Natchez, where he will wait until
   the Assembly of New Orleans has met, which will happen at
   once; and in this meeting (_junta_) they will declare
   the independence of the Western States, and will invite Burr
   meanwhile to place himself at the head of their government. He
   will accept the offer, will descend to New Orleans, and will set
   to work, clothed in a character which the people will have given
   him. I understand that Colonel Burr has already written the
   declaration of independence, and that it is couched in the same
   terms that the States adopted in theirs against Great Britain.
   This circumstance is the more notable inasmuch as the actual
   President was the person who drew it up in 1776. When Burr made
   the project of acting in agreement with England and seizing the
   Floridas, he expected to master them with troops that should
   accompany him from Baton Rouge. Although I am assured that this
   project is abandoned, and that on the contrary he wishes to live
   on good terms with Spain, I have written to Governor Folch of
   West Florida to be on his guard; and although I am persuaded
   that by means of Governor Folch’s connection with General
   Wilkinson, he must be perfectly informed of the state of things
   and of Burr’s intentions, I shall write to-day or to-morrow
   another letter to the Governor of Baton Rouge to be on the
   alert.”

Yrujo believed that Wilkinson, the General in command of the American
army, then supposed to be on the point of attacking the Spanish force
in his front, was secretly and regularly communicating with the Spanish
Governor of West Florida.

Burr was engaged in deceiving every one; but his attempt to deceive
Yrujo, if seriously meant, was the least comprehensible of all his
manœuvres. December 4 the Spanish minister wrote to his Government
another despatch which betrayed his perplexity at Burr’s conduct:--

   “I am positively assured,” he said, “that from one day to
   another will embark from New York for New Orleans, to join
   Colonel Burr in Louisiana, three of his intimate friends,
   depositaries of his whole confidence; namely, Mr. Swartwout,
   lately marshal of the district of New York, a certain Dr. Erwin,
   and the famous Colonel Smith, the same who was implicated in the
   business of Miranda, and whose son went out as an aide-de-camp
   of that adventurer. Accordingly I wrote to the governors of
   both Floridas and to the Viceroy of Mexico, giving them a
   general idea of this affair, and recommending them to watch the
   movements of Colonel Burr and of his adventurers. This is an
   excess of precaution, since by this time they must not only know
   through the New Orleans and Natchez newspapers of the projects
   attributed to Colonel Burr, but also through the confidential
   channel of the No. 13 of the Marquis of Casa Calvo’s cipher with
   the Prince of Peace, who is one of the conspirators, and who is
   to contribute very efficaciously to the execution of the scheme
   in case it shall be carried into effect.”

The person designated as No. 13 in the cipher used between Casa Calvo
and Godoy was the general-in-chief of the American forces, Wilkinson.
The Marquis’s despatch next mentioned the arrival of De Pestre, who
appeared about November 27 at Yrujo’s house:--

   “About a week ago a former French officer came to see me,
   one of Burr’s partisans, who came from Kentucky in search of
   various articles for the execution of his undertaking....
   This officer handed me a letter from Colonel Burr, in which,
   after recommending him to me, the writer said simply that as
   this person had lately visited those States, he could give me
   information about them worthy of my curiosity. The date of this
   letter was Lexington, October 25.”

De Pestre gave to Yrujo the assurance that all was going well with the
undertaking; but the special message he was charged to deliver seemed
to be the following:--

   “He also told me, on the part of the Colonel, that I should
   soon hear that he meant to attack Mexico, but that I was not
   to believe such rumors; that on the contrary his plans were
   limited to the emancipation of the Western States, and that it
   was necessary to circulate this rumor in order to hide the true
   design of his armaments and of the assemblages of men which
   could no longer be kept secret; that Upper and Lower Louisiana,
   the States of Tennessee and Ohio, stood ready and ripe for
   his plans, but that the State of Kentucky was much divided;
   and as this is the most important in numbers and population,
   an armed force must be procured strong enough to control the
   party there which should be disposed to offer resistance. He
   added, on Burr’s part, that as soon as the revolution should be
   complete, he should treat with Spain in regard to boundaries,
   and would conclude this affair to the entire satisfaction of
   Spain; meanwhile he wished me to write to the Governor of West
   Florida to diminish the burdens on Americans who navigate the
   Mobile River, and ask him, when the explosion should take place,
   to stop the courier or couriers who might be despatched by the
   friends of Government from New Orleans.”

Burr’s message caused Yrujo to warn all the Spanish officials in
Florida, Texas, and Mexico that “although No. 13 seems to have acted
in good faith hitherto, his fidelity could not be depended upon if he
had a greater interest in violating it, and that therefore they must be
cautious in listening to him and be very vigilant in regard to events
that would probably happen in their neighborhood.” De Pestre’s mission
made Yrujo more suspicious than ever, and he spared no precaution to
render impossible the success of any attack on Florida or Mexico.

After De Pestre had visited New York, he returned to Philadelphia, and
December 13 again called upon Yrujo.

   “He told me,” reported Yrujo,[180] “that he had seen Mr.
   Swartwout in New York, whom he had informed of Burr’s wish that
   he, as well as Dr. Erwin, Colonel Smith, and Captain Lewis,
   who was captain of the merchant ship ‘Emperor’ and brother of
   the captain of Miranda’s vessel the ‘Leander,’ should set out
   as soon as possible for New Orleans. Likewise he instructed
   him, on the part of the colonel, that the youths enlisted to
   serve as officers should set out as soon as possible for their
   posts. These, my informant told me, are different. Some two or
   three of them, the quickest and keenest, go to Washington to
   observe the movements of Government, to keep their friends in
   good disposition, and to despatch expresses with news of any
   important disposition or occurrence. Three go to Norfolk to
   make some despatch of provisions. A good number of them will go
   direct to Charleston to take command as officers, and see to
   the embarkation of the numerous recruits whom Colonel Burr’s
   son-in-law has raised in South Carolina. He himself will then
   have returned there from Kentucky, and will embark with them for
   New Orleans. The rest will embark directly for that city from
   New York.”

Yrujo could not see the feebleness of the conspiracy. So far as he
knew, the story might be true; and although he had been both forewarned
and forearmed, he could not but feel uneasy lest Burr should make a
sudden attack on West Florida or Texas. The Spanish minister was able
to protect Spanish interests if they were attacked; but he would have
preferred to prevent an attack, and this could be done by the United
States government alone. The indifference of President Jefferson
to Burr’s movements astounded many persons besides Yrujo. “It is
astonishing,” wrote Merry in November,[181] “that the Government here
should have remained so long in ignorance of the intended design as
even not to know with certainty at this moment the object of the
preparations which they have learned are now making.” Merry would have
been still more astonished had he been told that the President was by
no means ignorant of Burr’s object; and Yrujo might well be perplexed
to see that ignorant or not, the President had taken no measure for
the defence of New Orleans, and that the time had passed when any
measure could be taken. The city was in Wilkinson’s hands. Even of the
five small gunboats which were meant to be stationed at the mouth of
the Mississippi, only one was actually there. That Burr and Wilkinson
should meet resistance at New Orleans was not to be imagined. Yrujo saw
no chance of checking them except in Ohio and Kentucky.




                             CHAPTER XII.


HAD Burr succeeded in carrying out his original plan of passing the
Falls of the Ohio as early as November 15, he might have reached New
Orleans with all his force; but he made too many delays, and tried
too far the patience of Ohio. October 1 he returned from Nashville to
Lexington, where he was joined by Blennerhassett and Allston. From that
moment he was beset by difficulties and growing opposition.

As yet the Government at Washington had not moved, and Burr freely
said that his military preparations were made with its knowledge and
for the probable event of war with Spain; but he had not foreseen that
these tactics might rouse against him the class of men from whom he
had least reason to expect opposition. In Kentucky a respectable body
of old Federalists still existed, with Humphrey Marshall at their
head. The United States District Attorney, Joseph H. Daveiss, was
also a Federalist, left in office by Jefferson. Burr’s admirers were
Republicans, so numerous that the President shrank from alienating them
by denouncing Burr, while they in their turn would not desert Burr
until the President denounced him. The Federalists saw here a chance
to injure their opponents, and used it.

As early as the year 1787 Governor Mirò, the Spanish ruler of
Louisiana, tried to organize a party in Kentucky for establishing an
independent empire west of the Alleghanies under the protection of
Spain. His chief agent for that purpose was James Wilkinson.[182] The
movement received no popular support, and failed; but during the next
ten years the Spanish governors who succeeded Mirò maintained relations
with Wilkinson and his friends, always hoping that some change in
American politics would bring their project into favor. Godoy’s policy
of conciliation with America crossed these intrigues. His treaty
of 1795 did much to neutralize them, but his delivery of Natchez
in 1798 did more. The settlement of boundary came at a moment when
Kentucky, under the lead of Jefferson and Breckenridge, seemed about
to defy the United States government, and when the celebrated Kentucky
Resolutions promised to draw the Western people into the arms of Spain.
Talleyrand’s indignation at Godoy’s conduct[183] was not more acute
than the disgust felt by the Spanish officials at New Orleans.

The Spanish intrigues among the Republicans of Kentucky were not wholly
unknown to the Federalists in that State; and as time went on, Humphrey
Marshall and Daveiss obtained evidence warranting an assault on the
Republicans most deeply implicated.[184] The attempt was a matter of
life and death to the Spanish pensioners; and in a society so clannish
as that of Kentucky, violence was not only to be feared, but to be
counted upon. Daveiss took the risks of personal revenge, and laid his
plans accordingly.

Burr’s appearance on the Ohio and at St. Louis in Wilkinson’s company
during the summer of 1805 called attention to the old Spanish
conspiracy, and gave Daveiss the opportunity he wanted. As early as
Jan. 10, 1806, while Burr was still struggling at Washington to save
his plot from collapse for want of foreign aid, and while John Randolph
was beginning his invectives in Congress, the district-attorney wrote
to the President a private letter denouncing the old Spanish plot, and
declaring that it was still alive.[185] “A separation of the Union in
favor of Spain is the object _finally_. I know not what are the
means.” Assuming that Jefferson was ignorant of the facts, because
he had “appointed General Wilkinson as Governor of St. Louis, who, I
am convinced, has been for years, and now is, a pensioner of Spain,”
Daveiss asserted his own knowledge, and contented himself with a
general warning;--

   “This plot is laid wider than you imagine. Mention the subject
   to no man from the Western country, however high in office he
   may be. Some of them are deeply tainted with this treason. I
   hate duplicity of expression; but on this subject I am not
   authorized to be explicit, nor is it necessary. You will
   despatch some fit person into the Orleans country to inquire.”

February 10 Daveiss wrote again calling attention to Burr’s movements
during the previous summer, and charging both him and Wilkinson with
conspiracy.[186] At about the time when these letters arrived, the
President received another warning from Eaton. The air was full of
denunciations, waiting only for the President’s leave to annihilate
the conspirators under popular contempt. A word quietly written by
Jefferson to one or two persons in the Western country would have
stopped Burr short in his path, and would have brought Wilkinson
abjectly on his knees. A slight change in the military and naval
arrangements at New Orleans would have terrified the creoles into good
behavior, and would have made Daniel Clark denounce the conspiracy.

The President showed Daveiss’s letter to Gallatin, Madison, and
Dearborn; but he did not take its advice, and did not, in his Cabinet
memoranda of October 22,[187] mention it among his many sources of
information. February 15 he wrote to Daveiss[188] a request to
communicate all he knew on the subject. No other acts followed, nor was
either Wilkinson or Burr put under surveillance.

Perhaps this was what Daveiss wished; for if Jefferson pursued his
course much further, he was certain to compromise himself in appearing
to protect Burr and Wilkinson. Daveiss not only continued to write
letter after letter denouncing Wilkinson to the President, without
receiving answer or acknowledgment; he not only made a journey to St.
Louis in order to collect evidence, and on his return to Kentucky wrote
in July to the President that Burr’s object was “to cause a revolt of
the Spanish provinces, and a severance of all the Western States and
Territories from the Union, to coalesce and form one government,”--but
he also took a new step, of which he did not think himself obliged to
inform the President in advance. He established at Frankfort a weekly
newspaper, edited by a man so poor in character and means that for some
slight gain in notoriety he could afford to risk a worthless life. John
Wood was a newspaper hack, not quite so successful as Cheetham and
Duane, or so vile as Callender. Having in 1801 written a “History of
the last Administration,” after getting from Colonel Burr, by working
upon his vanity, an offer to buy and suppress the book, it was probably
Wood who furnished Cheetham with the details of the transaction, and
connived at Cheetham’s “Narrative of the Suppression,” in order
to give notoriety to himself. Cheetham’s “Narrative” called for a
reply, and Wood in 1802 printed a “Correct Statement.” Both pamphlets
were contemptible; but Cheetham was supported by the Clintons, while
Wood could find no one to pay for his literary wares. He drifted
to Richmond, and thence across the mountains; until, in the winter
of 1805–1806, he dropped quietly, unnoticed, into the village of
Frankfort, in Kentucky. Humphrey Marshall and District Attorney Daveiss
needed such a man.

July 4, 1806, appeared at Frankfort the first number of the “Western
World,”--a weekly newspaper edited by John Wood. The society of
Kentucky was alarmed and irritated to find that the “Western World”
seemed to have no other object for its existence than to drag the old
Spanish conspiracy to light. Passions were soon deeply stirred by
the persistency and vehemence with which this pretended Republican
newspaper clung to the subject and cried for an investigation.
Wood had no fancy for being made the object of assassination, but
he was given a fighting colleague named Street; and while Wood hid
himself, Street defended the office. In spite of several attempts
to drive Street away or to kill him, the “Western World” persevered
in its work, until October 15 it published an appeal to the people,
founded on Blennerhassett’s “Querist” and on the existence of a
Spanish Association. Meanwhile two men in high position dreaded
exposure,--Judge Sebastian, of the Court of Appeals of Kentucky, and
Judge Innis, of the United States District Court.

Daveiss was right in thinking the Spanish conspiracy of 1787–1798
closely allied with Burr’s conspiracy of 1805. In striking at Sebastian
and Innis, he threw consternation into the ranks of Burr’s friends, all
of whom were more or less familiar with the Spanish intrigue. Senator
Adair, bolder than the rest, stood by Wilkinson and defied exposure;
but the greater number of Wilkinson’s accomplices were paralyzed.
Daveiss gave them no respite. In October Burr’s appearance in Kentucky
offered a chance to press his advantage. Jefferson’s persistent silence
and inaction left the energetic district-attorney free to do what he
liked; and nothing short of compromising the Administration satisfied
his ambition.

Burr passed the month of October in Kentucky; but his preparations were
far from complete. The delay was probably due to the time consumed
in getting Blennerhassett’s money. At last Burr paid to Lynch the
purchase-money of four or five thousand dollars for Bastrop’s grant.
He had already ordered the construction of boats and enlistment of
men at various points on the Ohio, and especially at Marietta, near
Blennerhassett’s island; but he waited too long before beginning
operations on the Cumberland, for not till November 3 did Andrew
Jackson at Nashville receive a letter from Burr, inclosing three
thousand dollars in Kentucky bank-notes, with orders for the building
of five large boats, the purchase of supplies, and the enlistment
of recruits,--all of which was promptly undertaken by Jackson, but
required more time than could be spared by Burr.

Meanwhile Burr’s affairs were going ill in the State of Ohio.
Blennerhassett’s foolish “Querist,” and the more foolish conversation
of both Blennerhassett and Burr, combined with the assaults of the
“Western World,” drew so much attention to the armaments at the island
that Mrs. Blennerhassett, left alone while her husband was with Allston
and Burr in Kentucky, became alarmed, and thought it necessary to
send them a warning. October 20 she wrote to Burr that he could not
return with safety. Thinking the note too important to be trusted
to the post, and ignorant of Burr’s address, she sent her gardener,
Peter Taylor, on horseback, through Chillicothe, to Cincinnati, with
orders to ask Senator Smith for the address. Taylor reached Cincinnati
October 23, after three days of travel, and went, according to his
mistress’s orders, directly to Senator Smith’s house, which was in the
same building with his store,--for Smith was a storekeeper and army
contractor. The senator was already too deeply compromised with Burr,
and his courage had begun to fail. At first he denied knowledge of
Burr or Blennerhassett. In Taylor’s words, “He allowed he knew nothing
of either of them; that I must be mistaken; this was not the place.
I said, ‘No; this was the right place,--Mr. John Smith, storekeeper,
Cincinnati.’” In the end, Smith took him upstairs, and gave him, with
every injunction of secrecy, a letter to be delivered to Burr at
Lexington. Taylor reached Lexington October 25, found Burr, delivered
his letters, and candidly added: “If you come up our way the people
will shoot you.” The following Monday, October 27, the gardener started
on his return, taking Blennerhassett with him, and leaving Burr at
Lexington to face the storms that threatened from many quarters at once.

The impossibility of returning to the island was but one warning;
another came from Senator Smith, who dreaded exposure. The letter he
sent by Peter Taylor, dated October 23, affected ignorance of Burr’s
schemes, and demanded an explanation of them. October 26 Burr sent the
required disavowal:--

   “I was greatly surprised and really hurt,” said Burr,[189] “by
   the unusual tenor of your letter of the 23d, and I hasten to
   reply to it, as well for your satisfaction as my own. If there
   exists any design to separate the Western from the Eastern
   States, I am totally ignorant of it. I never harbored or
   expressed any such intention to any one, nor did any person ever
   intimate such design to me.”

From that moment to the last day of his life Burr persisted in
this assertion, coupling it always in his own mind with a peculiar
reservation. What he so solemnly denied was the intention to separate
the Western States “by force” from the Eastern; what he never denied
was the plan of establishing a Western empire by consent.

Of disunion Burr never again dared to speak. On that subject he was
conscious of having already said so much as to make his stay in
Kentucky a matter of some risk. The leading Republicans would have
rejoiced at his departure; but to desert him was more than their
tempers would allow. Daveiss saw another opportunity to compromise his
enemies, and used it. A week after Blennerhassett and Peter Taylor left
Lexington, carrying with them Burr’s letter in reply to Senator Smith,
on the same day when Andrew Jackson at Nashville received Burr’s order,
with Kentucky bank-notes for the sum of three thousand dollars, the
United States District Court opened its session at Frankfort. Within
eight and forty hours, November 5, District-Attorney Daveiss rose in
court and made complaint against Burr for violating the laws of the
United States by setting on foot a military expedition against Mexico.
Besides an affidavit to this effect, the district-attorney asserted in
court that Burr’s scheme extended to a revolution of all the Western
States and Territories.

In the nervous condition of Kentucky society, this attack on Burr
roused great attention and hot criticism. The judge who presided
over the court was the same Harry Innis who had been privy to the
Spanish conspiracy, and was harassed by the charges of the “Western
World.” Daveiss could count with certainty upon the course which a
man so placed would follow. The judge took three days to reflect, and
then denied the motion; but Burr could not afford to rest silent.
November 8, when Judge Innis overruled the motion and denied the
process, Burr appeared in court and challenged inquiry. The following
Wednesday, November 12, was fixed for the investigation. A grand-jury
was summoned. Burr appeared, surrounded by friends, with Henry Clay
for counsel, and with strong popular sympathy in his favor. Daveiss
too appeared, with a list of witnesses summoned; but the chief witness
was absent in Indiana, and Daveiss asked a postponement. The jury was
discharged; and after a dignified and grave harangue from the accused,
Burr left the court in triumph.[190] On the strength of this acquittal
he ventured again to appear in Cincinnati, November 23, in confidential
relations with Senator Smith; but the term of his long impunity was
soon to end.

October 22, while Burr was at Lexington, President Jefferson held a
Cabinet council at Washington. The Spaniards were then threatening
an attack upon Louisiana, while Wilkinson’s force in the Mississippi
and Orleans Territories amounted only to ten hundred and eighty-one
men, with two gunboats. Memoranda, written at the time by Jefferson,
detailed the situation as it was understood by the Government:[191]--

   “During the last session of Congress, Colonel Burr who was
   here, finding no hope of being employed in any department of
   the government, opened himself confidentially to some persons
   on whom he thought he could rely, on a scheme of separating
   the Western from the Atlantic States, and erecting the former
   into an independent confederacy. He had before made a tour of
   those States, which had excited suspicions, as every motion
   does of such a Catilinarian character. Of his having made this
   proposition here we have information from General Eaton through
   Mr. Ely and Mr. Granger. He went off this spring to the Western
   country. Of his movements on his way, information has come to
   the Secretary of State and myself from John Nicholson and Mr.
   Williams of the State of New York, respecting a Mr. Tyler;
   Colonel Morgan, Nevill, and Roberts, near Pittsburg; and to
   other citizens through other channels and the newspapers. We are
   of opinion unanimously that confidential letters be written to
   the Governors of Ohio, Indiana, Mississippi, and New Orleans; to
   the district-attorney of Kentucky, of Tennessee, of Louisiana,
   to have him strictly watched, and on his committing any overt
   act, to have him arrested and tried for treason, misdemeanor, or
   whatever other offence the act may amount to; and in like manner
   to arrest and try any of his followers committing acts against
   the laws. We think it proper also to order some of the gunboats
   up to Fort Adams to stop by force any passage of suspicious
   persons going down in force. General Wilkinson being expressly
   declared by Burr to Eaton to be engaged with him in this
   design as his lieutenant, or first in command, and suspicions
   of infidelity in Wilkinson being now become very general, a
   question is proposed what is proper to be done as to him on this
   account, as well as for his disobedience of orders received by
   him June 11 at St. Louis to descend with all practical despatch
   to New Orleans to mark out the site of certain defensive works
   there, and then repair to take command at Natchitoches, on
   which business he did not leave St. Louis till September.
   Consideration adjourned.

   “October 24. It is agreed unanimously to call for Captain
   Preble and Decatur to repair to New Orleans, by land or by
   sea as they please, there to take command of the force on the
   water, and that the ‘Argus’ and two gunboats from New York,
   three from Norfolk, and two from Charleston shall be ordered
   there, if on a consultation between Mr. Gallatin and Mr.
   Smith the appropriations shall be found to enable us; that
   Preble shall, on consultation with Governor Claiborne, have
   great discretionary powers; that Graham shall be sent through
   Kentucky on Burr’s trail, with discretionary powers to consult
   confidentially with the Governors to arrest Burr if he has
   made himself liable. He is to have a commission of Governor of
   [Upper] Louisiana, and Dr. Browne is to be removed. Letters are
   to be written by post to Governor Claiborne, the Governor of
   Mississippi, and Colonel Freeman to be on their guard against
   any surprise of our posts or vessels by him. The question as to
   General Wilkinson postponed till Preble’s departure, for future
   information.”

Although these measures provided no protection against the chance of
Wilkinson’s misconduct, they could not fail to put an instant stop to
Burr’s activity. All that remained was to carry them out. Unfortunately
Gallatin found that his hands and those of Robert Smith were tied by
Acts of Congress. The next day the Cabinet met again.

   “October 25. A mail arrived yesterday from the westward, and not
   one word is heard from that quarter of any movements by Colonel
   Burr. This total silence of the officers of the government,
   of the members of Congress, of the newspapers, proves he is
   committing no overt act against law. We therefore rescind the
   determination to send Preble, Decatur, the ‘Argus,’ or the
   gunboats, and instead of them to send off the marines which
   are here to reinforce, or take place of, the garrison at New
   Orleans, with a view to Spanish operations; and instead of
   writing to the Governors, etc., we send Graham on that route,
   with confidential authority to inquire into Burr’s movements,
   put the Governors, etc., on their guard, to provide for his
   arrest if necessary, and to take on himself the government of
   [Upper] Louisiana. Letters are still to be written to Claiborne,
   Freeman, and the Governor of Mississippi to be on their guard.”

The result of this Cabinet discussion, extending from October 22 to
October 25, was merely an order to John Graham, Secretary of the
Orleans Territory, to stop in Ohio and Kentucky on his way westward and
inquire into Burr’s movements.

Graham, following orders received from Madison, reached Marietta
about the middle of November, when Burr should have already begun his
movement, according to the original plan. Blennerhassett, who had
been told by Burr that Graham was concerned in the plot, welcomed him
with great cordiality, and talked much more freely than wisely. The
information which crowded on Graham at Marietta led him to go at the
end of November to Chillicothe, where the Legislature was in session,
and where he caused a law to be passed, December 2, empowering the
governor to use the militia against the conspirators. Had this measure,
or one equally energetic, been taken by the President three months
earlier, it would have put an end to Burr’s projects before they were
under way, would have saved many deluded men from ruin, and would have
prevented much trouble at New Orleans; but Graham’s progress was not
quite so rapid, even though late, as it should have been.

Burr had ample warning. November 25 District-Attorney Daveiss renewed
his motion in court at Frankfort, and the court appointed December 2
as the day for hearing evidence. Henry Clay became uneasy, and exacted
from Burr a written denial of the projects imputed to him. Fortified
with this evidence to his own credulity, Clay again went into court
with Burr, “for whose honor and innocence,” he said, “he could pledge
his own,” and assailed the district-attorney. A second time the scene
of outraged virtue was acted. Once more the witnesses vanished.
Senator Smith saddled his horse and fled; Adair would not appear; and
the judge lent his weight to the criminal. To crown all, December 5
the grand-jury of twenty-two persons signed a paper declaring that
they could discover nothing improper or injurious to the interests of
the United States government in the conduct of Burr and Adair. Burr
was discharged, with enthusiastic applause, without a stain on his
character; and to prove its devotion, the society of Frankfort gave a
ball in his honor.[192]

Nov. 25, 1806, was a date to be remembered in the story of Burr’s
adventures. On that day Daveiss made his second motion in court at
Frankfort, while at Washington the Government at length woke to action.
An officer, bringing despatches from General Wilkinson at Natchitoches,
presented himself at the White House with news so startling that
Jefferson immediately called his Cabinet together. Another memorandum
in the President’s handwriting recorded the action taken:--

   “November 25. Present at first the four heads of department; but
   after a while General Dearborn withdrew, unwell. Despatches from
   General Wilkinson to myself of October 21, by a confidential
   officer (Lieutenant Smith), show that overtures have been made
   to him which decide that the present object of the combination
   is an expedition by sea against Vera Cruz; and by comparing
   the contents of a letter from Cowles Meade to the Secretary of
   State, with the information from Lieutenant Smith that a Mr.
   Swartwout from New York, brother of the late marshal, had been
   at General Wilkinson’s camp, we are satisfied that Swartwout
   has been the agent through whom overtures have been made to
   Wilkinson. We came to the following determinations,--that a
   proclamation be issued (see it), and that orders go as follows:
   To Pittsburg, if we have a military officer there; ... Marietta,
   Mr. Gallatin is to write to the collector; ... General Dearborn
   to write to Governor Tiffin, ... and to write to General
   Jackson, supposed to be the general of the brigade on the
   Virginia side of the river; ... Louisville, General Dearborn to
   write to the Governor of Kentucky; ... Massac, General Dearborn
   to give orders to Captain Bissell of the same tenor, and
   particularly to stop armed vessels suspected on good grounds to
   be proceeding on this enterprise, and for this purpose to have
   in readiness any boats he can procure fitted for enabling him to
   arrest their passage; Chickasaw Bluffs, give same orders as to
   Bissell; New Orleans, General Wilkinson to direct the station of
   the armed vessels; and if the arrangements with the Spaniards
   will permit him to withdraw, let him dispose of his force as he
   thinks best to prevent any such expedition or any attempt on New
   Orleans, or any of the posts or military stores of the United
   States. (He is also to arrest persons coming to his camp and
   proposing a concurrence in any such enterprise, and suspected of
   being in camp with a view to propagate such propositions. This
   addition is made by General Dearborn with my approbation.)”

The orders to Wilkinson were instantly sent. “You will use every
exertion in your power,” Dearborn said,[193] “to frustrate and
effectually prevent any enterprise which has for its object, directly
or indirectly, any hostile act on any part of the territories of the
United States, or on any of the territories of the King of Spain.”
Persons found in or about the military camps or posts, with evident
intention of sounding officers or soldiers, were to be arrested, and
if not amenable to martial law, were to be delivered over to the civil
authorities.

The orders were remarkable chiefly for the power they trusted in the
hands of Wilkinson, and the confidence they showed in his good faith.
Yet nothing could on its face be more suspicious than his report. The
idea that Burr’s expedition could be directed against Vera Cruz was
unreasonable, and contrary to the tenor of the President’s information
from all other sources.[194] A moment’s thought should have satisfied
the President that Wilkinson was deceiving him, and that the city of
New Orleans must be the real point of danger. In truth, Wilkinson’s
letters suppressed more than they told, and were more alarming than the
warnings of Eaton or of Daveiss; for they proved that Wilkinson was
playing a double part. No measure that promised safety could be taken
which would not require an instant removal of Wilkinson and a vigorous
support of Claiborne at New Orleans.

Nov. 27, 1806, the same day with Dearborn’s letter, the proclamation
was issued.[195] Without mentioning Burr’s name, it announced that
sundry persons were conspiring against Spain, contrary to the laws; it
warned all persons whatsoever to withdraw from such conspiracy; and it
directed all officers, civil and military, of the United States to
seize and detain all persons and property concerned in the enterprise.

The last chance of stopping the conspirators before they could enter
the Mississippi was at Fort Massac. Beyond that point they could not
easily be molested until they should reach a country more friendly
than Ohio or Kentucky to their purposes; but the President had reason
to suppose that his proclamation came in ample time to stop the
conspirators while they were still on the Ohio River.

The Governor of Ohio, without waiting for the proclamation, acted
promptly. On Graham’s request, the necessary law was passed, and
measures were taken to seize Burr’s boats at Marietta. The boats and
supplies were brought by Burr’s men to Blennerhassett’s island; but
finding that militia were about to take possession of the island
itself, the conspirators, with Blennerhassett in their company,
at midnight of December 10–11, fled down the river,--a half-dozen
ill-fitted boats, with thirty or forty men,--and passed the Falls of
the Ohio at about the time when Burr and Adair entered Nashville.

Graham, leaving Ohio, reached Kentucky December 22, and induced the
Governor and Legislature, December 24, to follow the example of Ohio;
but he lost much time between Chillicothe and Frankfort, so that
even after driving Burr from Ohio to Kentucky, and from Kentucky to
Tennessee, the quickest pursuit could not prevent the conspirators
from taking their path down the Cumberland. Graham in Ohio heard
nothing of Burr’s doings in Tennessee, although since November 3
Jackson’s close friend Patton Anderson was scouring the country round
Nashville for recruits, and had raised a company of seventy-five men.
As Burr went farther South, the secrecy of his intimates became more
closely guarded, and their movements more obscure.

Burr and Adair reached Nashville December 14, and went directly to the
river, where their boats were building. By that time Burr was well
trained in the comedy he had within the last month so often played.
Senator Smith of Ohio began it October 23, by writing the request that
Burr’s design should be “candidly disclosed,” because Smith had fears
that it might interrupt the tranquillity of the country. A month later
Henry Clay made the same request. No sooner did Burr reach Clover
Bottom, where his boats were building under Andrew Jackson’s charge,
than he found himself required to repeat the familiar formula. Jackson,
in company with General Overton as his witness, soon appeared at Clover
Bottom, and intimated as plainly as had been done by John Smith and
Henry Clay that his own credit required a disavowal of designs against
the Union. Burr, with his usual dignified courtesy, instantly complied;
and his denials were accepted as satisfactory by Jackson.

On Jackson’s part this conduct was peculiarly surprising, because
more than a month before he had written to Governor Claiborne[196]
at New Orleans a secret denunciation of Burr and Wilkinson, couched
in language which showed such intimate knowledge of Burr’s plans
as could have come only from Burr himself or Adair. In accepting
Burr’s disavowals, December 14, Jackson did not mention to Burr his
denunciatory letter written to Claiborne, November 12, in which he
had said, “I fear treachery has become the order of the day.” Like
Senator Smith, he was satisfied to secure his own safety; and upon
Burr’s denial of treasonable schemes, Jackson, although he did not
write to Claiborne to withdraw the secret charges, went on building
boats, providing supplies, and enlisting men for Colonel Burr’s
expedition. His motives for this conduct remained his own secret. Many
of the best-informed persons in Tennessee and Kentucky, including
Burr’s avowed partisans, held but a low opinion of Jackson’s character
or veracity. Eight years afterward Jackson and John Adair once more
appeared on the stage of New Orleans history, and quarrelled, with
charges and counter-charges of falsehood and insinuations of treason.

   “Whatever were the intentions of Colonel Burr,” wrote Adair in
   a published letter,[197] “I neither organized troops at that
   time, nor did I superintend the building of boats for him; nor
   did I write confidential letters recommending him to my friends;
   nor did I think it necessary, after his failure was universally
   known, to save myself by turning informer or State witness.”

By that time the people of Nashville had heard what was doing in Ohio
and Kentucky. The public impeachment of the conspirators checked
enlistments and retarded purchases; but Burr seemed to fear no such
personal danger as had prevented his return to Blennerhassett’s island.
The Governor and Legislature of Ohio had taken public measures to seize
boats and supplies as early as December 2; Burr had been driven from
Kentucky, and Blennerhassett had fled from his island, by December 11;
but ten days later Burr was still fitting out his boats at Nashville,
undisturbed by the people of Tennessee. December 19 the President’s
proclamation reached Nashville,[198] but still nothing was done.

At last some unmentioned friend brought to Burr a secret warning that
the State authorities must soon take notice of his armaments. The
authorities at Nashville could no longer delay interference, and Burr
was made to understand that his boats would be seized, and that he was
himself in danger unless he should immediately escape; but between
December 19 and 22 he was undisturbed. The announcement that Graham was
expected to arrive December 23 probably decided his movements; for on
the 22d he hastily abandoned all except two of his boats, receiving
back from Jackson seventeen hundred and twenty-five dollars and taking
the two boats and other articles for his voyage.[199] Jackson afterward
declared that he suffered in the end a loss of five hundred dollars by
a note which Burr had induced him to indorse, and which was returned
from New York protested. Without further hindrance Burr then floated
down the Cumberland River, taking with him a nephew of Mrs. Jackson,
furnished by his uncle with a letter of introduction to Governor
Claiborne,--a confidence the more singular because Governor Claiborne
could hardly fail, under the warnings of General Jackson’s previous
secret letter, to seize and imprison Burr and every one who should be
found in his company.

Thus, by connivance, Burr escaped from Nashville three days after
news of the President’s proclamation had arrived. The Government had
two more chances to stop him before reaching Natchez. He must join
Blennerhassett and Comfort Tyler at the mouth of the Cumberland, and
then move down the Ohio River past Fort Massac, garrisoned by a company
of the First Infantry, commanded by a Captain Bissell. Having passed
Massac, he must still run the gauntlet at Chickasaw Bluff, afterward
called Memphis, where another military post was stationed. The War
Department sent orders, November 27, to the officers commanding at
Massac and Chickasaw Bluff to be on their guard.

December 22 Burr left Nashville, while Adair at about the same time
started for New Orleans on horseback through the Indian country. At
the mouth of the Cumberland, Burr joined Blennerhassett, who had with
him the boats which had succeeded in escaping the Ohio militia. The
combined flotilla contained thirteen boats, which carried some sixty
men and as many stand of arms, the arms being stowed in cases as cargo.
December 25 Burr sent a note to Captain Bissell announcing that he
should soon reach Fort Massac on his way South, and should stop to pay
his respects. Bissell had received neither the President’s proclamation
nor the orders from the Secretary of War. As an old friend of Burr, he
sent a cordial welcome to the party. In the night of December 29 the
boats passed the fort, and landed about a mile below. The next morning
Captain Bissell went in his own boat to pay his respects to Colonel
Burr, who declined invitations to breakfast and dinner, but asked a
furlough of twenty days for a Sergeant Dunbaugh, who had been persuaded
to join the expedition. Bissell gave the furlough December 31, and
Burr’s party at once started for the Mississippi. Five days afterward,
January 5, Bissell received a letter, dated January 2, from Andrew
Jackson, as Major-General of Tennessee militia, warning him to stop any
body of men who might attempt to pass, if they should appear to have
illegal enterprises in view. The President’s proclamation had not yet
reached Fort Massac, nor had Captain Bissell received any instructions
from Washington.[200]

The proclamation, dated November 27, and sent immediately to the West,
reached Pittsburg December 2,[201] and should, with ordinary haste,
have reached Fort Massac--the most important point between Pittsburg
and Natchez--before December 15. The orders which accompanied it ought
to have prevented any failure of understanding on the part of Captain
Bissell. Bissell’s reply to Jackson, dated January 5, reached Nashville
January 8, and was forwarded by Jackson to Jefferson, who sent it
to Congress with a message dated January 28. Twenty-three days were
sufficient for the unimportant reply; forty days or more had been taken
for the orders to reach Massac, although they had only to float down
the river. That some gross negligence or connivance could alone explain
this shortcoming was evident; but the subject was never thought to need
investigation by President or Congress. The responsibility for Burr’s
escape was so equally distributed between the President himself, the
War Department, and the many accomplices or dupes of Burr in Kentucky
and Tennessee, that any investigation must have led to unpleasant
results.

Burr for the moment escaped, and everything depended on the action
of Wilkinson. Dayton and the other conspirators who remained in the
Eastern States thought it a matter of small consequence whether Burr
carried with him a party of sixty men or of six hundred. Doubtless
the unexpected energy shown by the people and the legislatures of
Ohio and Kentucky proved the futility of attempting to revolutionize
those States; but if Wilkinson were true to Burr, and if the city of
New Orleans should welcome him, it remained to be seen whether the
Government at Washington could crush the rebellion. A blockade of the
Mississippi was no easy affair, and slow in its results; England,
France, and Spain might have much to say.

Meanwhile Humphrey Marshall and his friend Daveiss enjoyed the triumph
they had won. In spite of silent opposition from the Republican
leaders, Marshall drove the Kentucky Legislature into an inquiry
as to the truth of the charge that Judge Sebastian was a Spanish
pensioner. Sebastian instantly resigned. The committee took no notice
of this admission of guilt, but summoned Judge Innis to testify. Very
reluctantly Innis appeared before the committee and began his evidence,
but broke down in the attempt, and admitted the truth of what had been
alleged.[202] Before the close of the year Daveiss and Marshall drove
Burr and Adair out of the State, forced Sebastian from the bench,
humiliated Innis, and threw ridicule upon young Henry Clay and the
other aggressive partisans of Jefferson, besides placing Jefferson
himself and his Secretary of State in an attitude neither dignified
nor creditable. Of all the persons connected with the story of Burr’s
expedition, Daveiss and Marshall alone showed the capacity to conceive
a plan of action and the courage to execute the plan they conceived;
but Jefferson could not be expected to feel satisfaction with services
of such a nature. A few months later he appointed another person to
succeed Daveiss in the office of district-attorney.




                             CHAPTER XIII.


SAMUEL SWARTWOUT and Peter V. Ogden, the young men whom Burr
and Dayton charged with the duty of carrying despatches to Louisiana,
crossed the Alleghanies in August and floated down the Ohio River
to Louisville.[203] There they stopped to find Adair, for whom they
brought letters from Burr. After some search Swartwout delivered the
letters, and continued his journey. Adair never made known the contents
of these papers; but they probably contained the same information as
was conveyed in the despatches to Wilkinson which came in their company.

Supposing Wilkinson to be at St. Louis, the two young men bought horses
and rode across the Indiana Territory to Kaskaskias; but finding that
the General had gone down the Mississippi, they took boat and followed.
At Natchez they learned that the object of their search had gone up the
Red River. Swartwout was obliged to follow him; but Ogden went to New
Orleans with despatches from Burr to his friends in that city.

Among the mysteries that still surround the conspiracy, the deepest
covers Burr’s relations in New Orleans. That he had confederates in
the city was proved not only by Ogden’s carrying letters, but also
by Erick Bollman’s arrival by sea, as early as September 27, with a
duplicate of Burr’s letter of July 29 to Wilkinson; and above all, by
the significant disappearance of Burr’s letters carried by Ogden and
Bollman to persons in New Orleans. The persons implicated proved their
complicity by keeping Burr’s letters and his secret.

One of these correspondents was almost certainly Judge Prevost, Burr’s
stepson, whom Jefferson had appointed District Judge for the Territory
of Orleans. That Daniel Clark was another hardly admits of doubt.
Swartwout assured Wilkinson of the fact;[204] but apart from this
evidence, the same reasons which obliged Burr to confide in Wilkinson
required him to confide in Clark. The receivers of the letters, whoever
they were, hastened to make their contents known to every one whom they
could trust. Immediately after the arrival of Bollman and Dayton about
October 1, before any serious alarm had risen in Ohio, the town of New
Orleans rang with rumors of Burr’s projects. The news excited more
consternation than hope; for although the creoles had been bitter in
complaints of Claiborne’s administration and of the despotism imposed
upon them by Congress, they remembered their attempt to revolt in
1768, and were far from eager to risk their safety again. Nevertheless,
the temper of the people was bad; and no one felt deeper anxiety as to
the number of Burr’s adherents than Governor Claiborne himself.

Nearly three years had elapsed since Dec. 20, 1803, when the Spanish
governor surrendered Louisiana to the United States, and the history of
the Territory during that time presented an uninterrupted succession of
bickerings. The government at Washington was largely responsible for
its own unpopularity in the new Territory, its foreign and domestic
policy seeming calculated to create ill-feeling, and after creating
it, to keep it alive. The President began by appointing as Governor of
Louisiana a man who had no peculiar fitness for the place. Claiborne,
in contrast with men like Wilkinson, Burr, and Daniel Clark, rose to
the level of a hero. He was honest, well-meaning, straightforward, and
thoroughly patriotic; but these virtues were not enough to make him
either feared or respected by the people over whom he was to exercise
despotic powers; while Claiborne’s military colleague, Wilkinson,
possessed fewer virtues and a feebler character. The French Prefect,
Laussat, who remained for a time in New Orleans to protect French
interests, wrote his Government April 8, 1804, an interesting account
of the situation as seen by French eyes:[205]

   “It was hardly possible that the government of the United States
   should have made a worse beginning, and that it should have sent
   two men (Messrs. Claiborne, governor, and Wilkinson, general)
   less fit to attract affection. The first, with estimable private
   qualities, has little capacity and much awkwardness, and is
   extremely beneath his place; the second, already long known here
   in a bad way, is a flighty, rattle-headed fellow, often drunk,
   who has committed a hundred impertinent follies. Neither the one
   nor the other understands a word of French or Spanish. They have
   on all occasions, and without delicacy, shocked the habits, the
   prejudices, the character of the population.”

Claiborne began his sway, assuming that the creoles were a kindly but
ignorant and degraded people, who must be taught the blessings of
American society. The creoles, who considered themselves to be more
refined and civilized than the Americans who descended upon them from
Kentucky and Tennessee, were not pleased that their language, blood,
and customs should be systematically degraded, in defiance of the
spirit in which the treaty of cession had been made. Their anger was
not without an element of danger. England and France could safely defy
public opinion and trample on prostrate races. Their empire rested on
force, but that of Jefferson rested on consent; and if the people of
New Orleans should rebel, they could not be conquered without trouble
and expense, or without violating the free principles which Jefferson
was supposed to represent.

The colonists in Louisiana had been for a century the spoiled children
of France and Spain. Petted, protected, fed, paid, flattered, and
given every liberty except the rights of self-government, they liked
Spain[206] and loved France, but they did not love the English or the
Americans; and their irritation was extreme when they saw Claiborne,
who knew nothing of their society and law, abolish their language,
establish American judges who knew only American law, while he himself
sat as a court of last resort, without even an attorney to advise him
as to the meaning of the Spanish law he administered. At the same time
that as judge he could hang his subjects, as intendant he could tax
them, and as governor he could shoot the disobedient. Even under the
Spanish despotism, appeal might be made to Havana or Madrid; but no
appeal lay from Claiborne’s judgment-seat.

Before this temporary system was superseded, the creoles already
yearned for a return to French or Spanish rule. They had but one hope
from the United States,--that, in the terms of the treaty, Louisiana
might be quickly admitted into the Union. This hope was rudely
dispelled. Not only did Congress treat their claims to self-government
with indifference, but the Territory was divided in halves, so that
it must be slower to acquire the necessary population for a State;
while as though to delay still longer this act of justice, the growth
of population was checked by prohibiting the slave-trade. Years must
pass before Louisiana could gain admission into the Union; and even
when this should happen, it must be the result of American expansion at
creole expense.

Jefferson’s Spanish policy, which kept the country always on the verge
of a war with Spain, prevented the French and Spanish population
from feeling that their submission was final. In case of war between
the United States and Spain, nothing would be easier than to drive
Claiborne away and replace Casa Calvo in the government. Claiborne
soon found himself confronted by an opposition which he could neither
control nor understand. Even the leading Americans joined it. Daniel
Clark, rich, eccentric, wild in his talk and restless in his movements,
distinguished himself by the personal hatred which he showed for
Claiborne; Evan Jones, another wealthy resident, rivalled Clark; Edward
Livingston, who had come to New Orleans angry with Jefferson for
removing him as a defaulter from office, joined the old residents in
harassing the Governor; while the former Spanish officials, Casa Calvo
and Morales, remained at New Orleans under one or another pretext,
keeping the Spanish influence alive, and maintaining communications
with Governor Folch of West Florida, who controlled the Mississippi
at Baton Rouge, and with General Herrera, who commanded the Spanish
force in Texas. So bad was the state of feeling that when Oct. 1, 1804,
the new territorial system was organized, Messrs. Boré, Bellechasse,
Cantrelle, Jones, and Daniel Clark, whom the President had named as
members of the legislative council, refused to accept the office;
while Messrs. Sauvé, Destréhan, and Derbigny were deputed by a popular
assembly to present their grievances at Washington. Two months elapsed
before Governor Claiborne could form any council at all; not until Dec.
4, 1804, was a quorum obtained.

No pretence of disguising their feelings was made by the Spanish
population. In French minds the power of Bonaparte was a stronger
reliance than the power of Spain; no Frenchman willingly admitted that
Napoleon meant to sacrifice Louisiana forever.[207]

   “The President’s Message,” wrote Governor Claiborne to
   Madison, Dec. 11, 1804,[208] “has been translated into the
   French language, and I will take care to have it circulated
   among the people. It will tend to remove an impression which
   has heretofore contributed greatly to embarrass the local
   administration; to wit, that the country west of the Mississippi
   would certainly be re-ceded to Spain, and perhaps the whole of
   Louisiana. So general has been this impression, particularly
   as relates to the country west of the Mississippi, that many
   citizens have been fearful of accepting any employment under the
   American government, or even manifesting a respect therefor,
   lest at a future time it might lessen them in the esteem of
   Spanish officers.”

Under the remonstrances of Sauvé, Destréhan, and Derbigny, and at the
intercession of John Randolph, Congress was induced to yield a single
point. The Act of March 2, 1805, gave Louisiana ordinary Territorial
rights, an elected legislature, and a delegate to Congress. After its
passage, Claiborne wrote to Madison that the people were disappointed;
and in fact the concessions were so trivial as to irritate rather
than soothe. Claiborne, whom the people obstinately disliked, was
re-appointed governor under the Act, and nothing in reality was changed.

Burr visited New Orleans in June and July, 1805. The new Legislature
assembled, Nov. 4, 1805, when Claiborne found himself surrounded by a
council partly elected by the Legislature, and a Legislature wholly
elected by the people. He was soon at odds with both. The leader of
opposition was Daniel Clark; and for a moment in May, 1806, the quarrel
went so far that the two legislative bodies were on the point of
voluntary disbandment, and a majority of the council actually resigned.
The Legislature chose Daniel Clark as their delegate to Congress.
Claiborne thought that the choice was made merely out of personal
spite; but no sooner did he hear of Burr’s disunion scheme than he
wrote to Madison,[209]--

   “If this be the object of the conspirators, the delegate to
   Congress from this Territory, Daniel Clark, is one of the
   leaders. He has often said that the Union could not last, and
   that had he children he would impress early on their minds the
   expediency of a separation between the Atlantic and Western
   States.”

In the same month of May Lieutenant Murray of the artillery, an
intimate friend of Daniel Clark, came with a Lieutenant Taylor from
Fort Adams to New Orleans, and heard the ordinary conversation of
society.

   “Lieutenant Taylor and myself,” he afterward testified,[210]
   “were invited to dine with a gentleman there whose name was on
   the list before mentioned [of persons engaged in an expedition
   against Mexico]; it was Judge Workman. We three dined together.
   After the cloth was removed, Mr. Lewis Kerr came in.... After a
   number of inquiries about Baton Rouge and the Red River country,
   they proceeded to lay open their plan of seizing upon the money
   in the banks at New Orleans, impressing the shipping, taking
   Baton Rouge, and joining Miranda by way of Mexico.... When I
   told Mr. Clark that I was calculated on as the officer to attack
   Baton Rouge, he advised me by all means to do it. He urged as an
   inducement that he was coming on to Congress, and would do all
   he could in my favor; that he would represent to the Government
   that it would require a large force to retake it; and he further
   observed that, at any rate, if the Government should be disposed
   to trouble me, before they could send off a sufficient force I
   should be in a situation to take care of myself.”

This attempt to seduce officers of the United States army into Burr’s
conspiracy was flagrant; for although Burr’s name was not mentioned,
no one could fail to see that the seizure of government money in the
banks at New Orleans was an act of treason, and that the attack on West
Florida implied a permanent military establishment on the Gulf.

June 7, 1806, the first Louisiana legislature adjourned, and Governor
Claiborne felt relief as deep as was felt by Jefferson at escaping the
stings of John Randolph; but although for a time Claiborne flattered
himself that his difficulties were lessening, he soon became aware
that some mystery surrounded him which he could not penetrate. General
Herrera began to press upon the Red River from Nacogdoches in Texas
with a force considerably stronger than any which Claiborne could
oppose to him. The militia showed indifference. August 28 the Governor
wrote to the Secretary of War that the French population would not
support the government in case of hostilities.[211] September 9
he wrote to Cowles Meade, then acting-governor of the Mississippi
Territory, a letter of uneasiness at the behavior of Wilkinson’s
troops: “My present impression is that _all is not right_. I know
not whom to censure, but it seems to me that there is wrong somewhere.”
The militia could not be stimulated to action against Herrera, and the
feeling of hostility between Americans and creoles was so bitter that
Claiborne intervened for fear of violence.[212]

October 6, 1806, the Governor returned to New Orleans after a tour of
inspection. Erick Bollman had been then ten days in the city, and
young Ogden had arrived about October 1, bringing Burr’s despatches.
According to Bellechasse and Derbigny the creole society was already
much excited; but this excitement showed itself to Claiborne in a
display of assumed stolidity.

   “There is in this city,” wrote Claiborne to the Secretary of
   War October 8,[213] “a degree of apathy at the present time
   which mortifies and astonishes me; and some of the native
   Americans act and discourse as if perfect security everywhere
   prevailed.... I fear the ancient Louisianians of New Orleans
   are not disposed to support with firmness the American cause.
   I do not believe they would fight against us; but my present
   impression is that they are not inclined to rally under the
   American standard.”

Claiborne’s spirits fluctuated from day to day as he felt the changes
in a situation which he could not fathom. October 17 he was elated
because the militia of New Orleans unexpectedly, and contrary to the
tenor of all its previous conduct, made a voluntary tender of services.
November 7 he was again discouraged; and November 15, and even as late
as November 25, he fell back into despondency. During all that time the
enemies whom he feared were Spaniards in Texas and West Florida; the
thought of conspiracy among the apathetic creoles had not yet entered
his mind.

Yet around him the city was trembling with excitement; and of all
persons in the city Daniel Clark was the one whose conduct showed most
signs of guilty knowledge. A few months later, he collected affidavits
from four or five of the most important gentlemen in New Orleans to
show what his conduct had been. At the moment when Bollman and Ogden
arrived, Clark was preparing for his journey to Washington, where he
meant to take his seat in Congress as the Territorial delegate. The
news brought by Bollman and Ogden that Burr was on his way to New
Orleans placed him in a dilemma. Like Senator Smith and Andrew Jackson,
his chief anxiety regarded his own safety; and he adopted an expedient
which showed his usual intelligence. An affidavit of Bellechasse,[214]
on whose character he mainly depended, narrated that--

   “in the month of October, a very few days before Mr. Clark
   left this city to go to Congress, he called together a number
   of his friends, and informed them of the views and intentions
   imputed to Colonel Burr, which were then almost the sole topic
   of conversation, and which, from the reports daily arriving
   from Kentucky, had caused a serious alarm; and he advised
   them all to exert their influence with the inhabitants of the
   country to support the Government of the United States and to
   rally round the Governor, although he thought him incapable of
   rendering much service as a military man,--assuring them that
   such conduct only would save the country if any hostile projects
   were entertained against it, and that this would be the best
   method of convincing the Government of the United States of the
   attachment of the inhabitants of Louisiana, and of the falsity
   of all the reports circulated to their prejudice. And Mr. Clark
   strongly recommended to such members of the Legislature as were
   then present not to attend any call or meeting of either House
   in case Colonel Burr should gain possession of the city, stating
   that such a measure would deservedly expose every individual
   concerned to punishment, and would occasion the ruin of the
   country.”

According to Bellechasse, the society of New Orleans between Oct. 1 and
Oct. 15, 1806, was in serious alarm. Burr’s intentions formed “almost
the sole topic of conversation;” daily reports were arriving from
Kentucky, although in Kentucky, down to October 1, no alarm existed,
and Burr’s intentions were not even developed. Each of the four
affidavits which Clark obtained, one of them signed by Peter Derbigny,
affirmed that about the middle of October, 1806, Burr’s projects were
the general theme of conversation in the city; but nothing was more
certain than that this knowledge of Burr’s projects must have come
not from Kentucky, but from Burr’s own letters and from the messages
brought by Ogden and Bollman.

Clark, having thus secured himself from the charge of abetting Burr,
sailed for the Atlantic coast, and in due time made his appearance at
Washington; but neither he nor Bellechasse nor Derbigny nor Bouligny,
although officers of the government, giving each other excellent
advice, communicated to Governor Claiborne what they knew about Burr’s
plans. From October 1 to November 25, the projects of Burr were
“the exclusive subject of every conversation” in the city, yet the
single official who ought to have been first informed, and who bore
all responsibility, had not a suspicion that any conspiracy existed.
Claiborne’s isolation was complete. This isolation was natural, since
all the gentlemen of New Orleans quarrelled with the Governor; but the
same silence was preserved where their social relations were friendly.
Neither Clark nor any of the persons who talked so much with each
other about Burr’s projects communicated with General Wilkinson, who
was in full sympathy with their hatred of Claiborne. Wilkinson stood
in relations of close confidence with Clark; intimate letters passed
between them as late as October 2.[215] Clark knew that Wilkinson
was Burr’s most intimate friend; yet he neither warned Claiborne nor
Wilkinson nor President Jefferson, although as early as October 15 he
warned a number of other gentlemen who needed no warning, and although
October 17 the militia of New Orleans, evidently in consequence of his
advice, tendered their services to the Governor.

For two months, between September 27 and November 25, Burr’s emissaries
were busy in New Orleans, without suspicion or hindrance from the
United States authorities; while every prominent Frenchman in the
Territory knew the contents of Burr’s letter to Wilkinson as soon as
Wilkinson could have known them. That Burr had few active adherents
might be true; but nothing showed that Bollman regarded the result
of his mission as unfavorable. Toward the end of October Bollman
sent letters by a certain Lieutenant Spence, who reached Lexington
in due course, and November 2 delivered his despatches to Burr;[216]
but whatever their contents may have been, they were not so decisive
against Burr’s hopes as to stop his movement. The people of New Orleans
were careful not to commit themselves, but they guarded Burr’s secret
with jealousy. They warned no United States official of the danger in
which the city stood; they wrote no letters to the President; they sent
no message to Burr forbidding his approach.

This was the situation in New Orleans Nov. 25, 1806, the day when
District-Attorney Daveiss at Frankfort made his second attempt to
procure an indictment against Burr, and when President Jefferson at
Washington was startled into energy by receiving a letter, almost
equivalent to a confession, from General Wilkinson. From the Ohio River
to the Gulf of Mexico the conspiracy had numerous friends; and in New
Orleans it had the most alarming of all qualities,--silence.

Meanwhile young Samuel Swartwout, after parting from his friend Ogden,
had slowly ascended the Red River, pursuing General Wilkinson, as
Evangeline pursued Gabriel, even as far as “the little inn of the
Spanish town of Adayes.” The military point for Wilkinson to decide was
whether he should make an effort to drive the Spaniards back to their
town of Adayes, or whether he should allow them to fix themselves on
the Red River. The movements of the Spanish General Herrera, who had
brought a considerable mounted force to Nacogdoches, were supposed at
the moment by many persons to have been made in concert with Burr;
but in reality they were doubtless intended only to derange the plan,
recommended by Armstrong and Monroe to Jefferson, by which Texas
should be seized for the United States, while West Florida for the
moment should be left aside. The Spanish government saw the danger,
and sent a little army of some fifteen hundred men to the Red River,
where they posted a strong garrison at Bayou Pierre, and pressed close
upon Natchitoches. The Americans, instead of taking the offensive
and advancing with five thousand men, as Wilkinson wished, to the
Rio Grande, were thrown upon the defensive, and trembled for New
Orleans, protected only by a French militia which neither Claiborne nor
Wilkinson could trust.

Under orders from Washington, General Wilkinson reached Natchitoches
September 22, and found the Spaniards in force between his own post
and the Sabine. For a few days Wilkinson talked loudly, after his
peculiar manner. War seemed imminent. September 28 he wrote from
Natchitoches a letter to Senator Smith of Ohio, the contractor for his
supplies:[217]--

   “I have made the last effort at conciliation in a solemn appeal
   to Governor Cordero at Nacogdoches, who is chief in command on
   this frontier. Colonel Cushing bore my letter, and is now with
   the Don. I expect his return in four days; and then,--I believe,
   my friend, I shall be obliged to fight and flog them.”

Governor Cordero, whose object was probably no more than to restrict
American possession within the narrowest possible limits, withdrew his
troops from Bayou Pierre, September 27, to the west bank of the Sabine,
and left open to Wilkinson the road to the eastern bank. The Spanish
forces recrossed the Sabine before September 30, but a week later,
October 8, General Wilkinson had not begun his ostentatious march, of
some fifty miles, to retake possession of the east bank of the river.

On the evening of October 8, General Wilkinson was sitting with Colonel
Cushing, of the Second Infantry, alone in the Colonel’s quarters at
Natchitoches, discussing the military problem before them, when a young
man was introduced who said that his name was Swartwout, and that he
brought a letter of introduction from General Dayton. After some little
ordinary talk, Colonel Cushing having for a moment been called out of
the room, Swartwout slipped into General Wilkinson’s hands a packet
which he said contained a letter from Colonel Burr. Wilkinson received
the letter, and soon afterward retired to his chamber, where he passed
the rest of the evening in the labor of deciphering Burr’s long
despatch of July 29.[218]

If the falsehoods contained in the letters of Burr and Dayton found
any credit in Wilkinson’s mind, they should have decided him to follow
his old bent toward revolution. Everything beckoned him on. His
secret relations, nearly twenty years old, with the Spanish officials
guaranteed to him the connivance of the Spanish force. The French
militia of Louisiana, deaf to Governor Claiborne’s entreaties, would
have seen with pleasure Claiborne deposed. About five hundred United
States troops were under Wilkinson’s command on the Red River, of
whom few were native Americans, or cared for the Government except to
obtain their pay. In New Orleans a breath would blow away the national
authority; and what power would restore it? If it were true, as Burr
wrote, that a British fleet stood ready to prevent a blockade of the
Mississippi, the success of the Western empire seemed assured.

Severance of the ties that bound him to Dayton and Burr was not a
simple matter for Wilkinson. That they were old friends was something;
and that all three had fought side by side under the walls of Quebec in
the winter of 1776, with the father of young Peter Ogden for a friend,
and with Benedict Arnold for their commander, was still more; but the
most serious difficulty was that Wilkinson stood in the power of these
men, who knew his thoughts and could produce his letters, and who, in
case of his deserting them, would certainly do their utmost to destroy
what character he possessed.

Whatever may have been his reflections, Wilkinson took at once measures
to protect his own interests. Like Senator Smith, Andrew Jackson, and
Daniel Clark, his first step was to provide against the danger of being
charged with misprision of treason. The morning after Swartwout’s
arrival, Wilkinson took Colonel Cushing aside, and after telling him
the contents of Burr’s letter, announced that he meant to notify the
President of the plot, and that after making some temporary arrangement
with the Spaniards, he should move his whole force to New Orleans. In
one sense this avowal was an act of patriotism; in another light it
might have been regarded as an attempt to sound Colonel Cushing, whose
assistance was necessary to the success of the plot.

In any case the deliberation of his conduct proved no eagerness to act.
A week passed. Although time pressed, and Burr was to move down the
Ohio River November 15, Wilkinson did not yet warn the President or the
authorities in Mississippi and Tennessee, or the commanding officers
at Fort Adams or Chickasaw Bluffs. About October 15 a troop of militia
reached Natchitoches; and Wilkinson confided his plans to Colonel
Burling, who accompanied it. One might almost have suspected that he
was systematically sounding his officers. Not until October 21 did he
send the promised letter to President Jefferson, and in that letter he
did not so much as mention Burr’s name.[219] He spoke of the expedition
as destined for Vera Cruz. “It is unknown under what authority this
enterprise has been projected, from whence the means of its support are
derived, or what may be the intentions of its leaders in relation to
the Territory of Orleans.” The communication was so timed as to reach
Washington after Burr should have passed down the Ohio; and it was so
worded as to protect Wilkinson in case of Burr’s failure, but in no
event to injure Burr.

After sending this despatch to Washington by a special messenger,
Wilkinson wrote October 23 a letter of mysterious warning to
Lieutenant-Colonel Freeman, who commanded at New Orleans.[220] He wrote
also a letter to Burr, which he afterward recovered at Natchez and
destroyed.[221] He sent his force forward to the Sabine, and passed ten
days in making an arrangement with the Spanish officers for maintaining
the relative positions of the outposts. Not until November 5 did he
return to Natchitoches. Then, at last, his movements became as rapid
as they had hitherto been dilatory.

November 7 he wrote to Colonel Cushing from Natchitoches:[222] “On
the 15th of this month Burr’s declaration is to be made in Tennessee
and Kentucky. Hurry, hurry after me; and if necessary, let us be
buried together in the ruins of the place we shall defend!” He had
at last chosen his part; and having decided to act as the savior of
the country, he began to exaggerate the danger. “If I mistake not, we
shall have an insurrection of blacks as well as whites to combat.”[223]
“I shall be with you by the 20th instant,” he wrote to Freeman the
same day;[224] “in the mean time be you as silent as the grave!” He
left Natchitoches November 7, and reached Natchez on the 11th, whence
he wrote “from the seat of Major Minor” a letter of alarm to the
President, confiding to the messenger an oral account of Burr’s letter,
for Jefferson’s benefit:[225]--

   “This is indeed a deep, dark, and widespread conspiracy,
   embracing the young and the old, the Democrat and the
   Federalist, the native and the foreigner, the patriot of ’76 and
   the exotic of yesterday, the opulent and the needy, the ‘ins’
   and the ‘outs;’ and I fear it will receive strong support in
   New Orleans from a quarter little suspected.... I gasconade not
   when I tell you that in such a cause I shall glory to give my
   life in the service of my country; for I verily believe such an
   event to be probable, because, should seven thousand men descend
   from the Ohio,--and this is the calculation,--they will bring
   with them the sympathies and good wishes of that country, and
   none but friends can be afterward prevailed on to follow them.
   With my handful of veterans, however gallant, it is improbable I
   shall be able to withstand such a disparity of numbers.”

If this was not gasconade, it sounded much like intoxication; but on
the same day the writer indulged in another cry of panic. He should
have written to Governor Claiborne a month before; but having made up
his mind to speak, he was determined to terrify:[226]--

   “You are surrounded by dangers of which you dream not, and the
   destruction of the American government is seriously menaced. The
   storm will probably burst in New Orleans, where I shall meet it,
   and triumph or perish!”

If the courage of Claiborne did not, on the arrival of this letter,
wholly desert him, his heart was stout; but he had yet another shock to
meet, for on the same day that Wilkinson at Natchez was summoning this
shadowy terror before his eyes, Andrew Jackson at Nashville was writing
to him in language even more bewildering than that of Wilkinson:[227]--

   “I fear treachery has become the order of the day. This induces
   me to write you. Put your town in a state of defence; organize
   your militia, and defend your city as well against internal
   enemies as external. My knowledge does not extend so far as to
   authorize me to go into details, but I fear you will meet with
   an attack from quarters you do not at present expect. Be upon
   the alert! Keep a watchful eye on our General [Wilkinson], and
   beware of an attack as well from your own country as Spain!
   I fear there is something rotten in the state of Denmark....
   Beware of the month of December!... This I will write for your
   own eye and for your own safety. Profit by it, and the ides of
   March remember!”

A storm of denunciations began to hail upon Claiborne’s head; but
buffeted as he was, he could only bear in silence whatever fate might
be in store, for General Wilkinson, who was little more trustworthy or
trusted than Burr himself, arrived in New Orleans November 25, and took
the reins of power.




                             CHAPTER XIV.


FOR several days after Wilkinson’s arrival at New Orleans
he left the conspirators in doubt of his intentions. No public alarm
had yet been given; and while Colonel Cushing hurried the little army
forward, Wilkinson, November 30, called on Erick Bollman, and had with
him a confidential interview. Not until December 5 did he tell Bollman
that he meant to oppose Burr’s scheme; and even then Bollman felt some
uncertainty. December 6 the General at length confided to the Governor
his plan of defence, which was nothing less than that Claiborne should
consent to abdicate his office and invest Wilkinson with absolute power
by proclaiming martial law.

Considering that this extraordinary man knew himself to be an object of
extreme and just suspicion on Claiborne’s part, such a demand carried
effrontery to the verge of insolence; and the tone in which it was made
sounded rather like an order than like advice.

   “The dangers,” said he,[228] “which impend over this city and
   menace the laws and government of the United States from an
   unauthorized and formidable association must be successfully
   opposed at this point, or the fair fabric of our independence,
   purchased by the best blood of our country, will be prostrated,
   and the Goddess of Liberty will take her flight from this
   globe forever. Under circumstances so imperious, extraordinary
   measures must be resorted to, and the ordinary forms of our
   civil institutions must for a short period yield to the strong
   arm of military law.”

Claiborne mildly resisted the pressure, with much good temper refusing
to sanction either the impressment of seamen, the suspension of the
writ of habeas corpus, the declaration of martial law, or the illegal
arrest of suspected persons, while he insisted on meeting the emergency
with the ordinary legal means at his disposal. Wilkinson was obliged to
act in defiance of his advice.

Sunday, December 14, arrests at New Orleans began. Bollman was first
to be seized. Swartwout and Ogden had been arrested at Fort Adams.
These seizures, together with that of Bollman’s companion, Alexander,
and Wilkinson’s wild talk, spread panic through the city. The courts
tried to interpose, and applied for support to Governor Claiborne.
The Governor advised Wilkinson to yield to the civil authorities; but
Wilkinson refused, thus establishing in the city something equivalent
to martial law. He knew, or believed, that both Judge Workman and Judge
Prevost were engaged in the conspiracy with Burr, and he was obliged to
defy them, or to risk his own success. The only effect of the attempt
to enforce the writ of habeas corpus in favor of the prisoners was
to draw out what had been hitherto concealed,--Burr’s letter of July
29. Not until December 18 did Wilkinson send a written version of
that letter to the President.[229] In order to warrant the arrests of
Swartwout and Ogden, Wilkinson, December 26, swore to an affidavit
which embodied Burr’s letter.

This step brought the panic in New Orleans to a climax. Wilkinson’s
military measures were evidently directed rather against the city
than against Burr. His previous complicity in the projects of Burr
was evident. His power of life and death was undisputed. Every
important man in New Orleans was a silent accomplice of Burr, afraid
of denunciation, and at Wilkinson’s mercy. He avowed publicly that
he would act with the same energy, without regard to standing or
station, against all individuals who might be participants in Burr’s
combination; and it would have been difficult for the best people in
New Orleans to prove that they had no knowledge of the plot, or had
given it no encouragement. The creole gentlemen began to regret the
mild sway of Claiborne when they saw that their own factiousness had
brought them face to face with the chances of a drumhead court-martial.

Wilkinson’s violence might have provoked an outbreak from the mere
terror it caused, had he not taken care to show that he meant in
reality to protect and not to punish the chief men of the city. After
the first shock, his arrests were in truth reassuring. The people
could afford to look on while he seized only strangers, like Bollman
and Alexander; even in Swartwout and Ogden few citizens of New Orleans
took much personal interest. Only in case the General had arrested men
like Derbigny or Edward Livingston or Bellechasse would the people
be likely to resist; and Wilkinson showed that he meant to make no
arrests among the residents, and to close his eyes against evidence
that could compromise any citizen of the place. “Thank God!” he wrote
to Daniel Clark, December 10,[230] “your advice to Bellechasse, if your
character was not a sufficient guaranty, would vindicate you against
any foul imputation.” In another letter, written early in January, he
added,[231]--

   “It is a fact that our fool [Claiborne] has written to his
   contemptible fabricator [Jefferson], that you had declared if
   you had children you would teach them to curse the United States
   as soon as they were able to lisp.”

Claiborne had brought such a charge only a few weeks before, and
Wilkinson must have heard it from Claiborne himself, who had already
written to withdraw it on learning Clark’s advice to Bellechasse.
Nevertheless Wilkinson continued,--

   “_Cet bête_ [Claiborne] is at present up to the chin in
   folly and vanity. He cannot be supported much longer, for Burr
   or no Burr we shall have a revolt if he is not removed speedily.
   The moment Bonaparte compromises with Great Britain will be
   the signal for a general rising of French and Spaniards; and
   if the Americans do not join, they will not oppose. Take care!
   Suspicion is abroad; but you have a friend worth having.”

Clark’s business correspondents in New Orleans delivered to Wilkinson
a letter which came to them from Burr without address, but which was
intended for Bollman.[232] “For your own sake,” said the General, “take
that letter away! Destroy, and say nothing of it!” A year later, when
the frightened crew of conspirators recovered from their panic and
began to turn upon him with ferocity on account of his treason to them
and to Burr, Wilkinson wrote to Daniel Clark a last letter, mentioning
in semi-threatening language the written evidence in his possession
against Clark himself, and adding,[233]--

   “Much pains were taken by Bollman to induce me to believe you
   were concerned. Swartwout assured me Ogden had gone to New
   Orleans with despatches for you from Burr, and that you were to
   furnish provisions, etc. Many other names were mentioned to me
   which I have not exposed, nor will I ever expose them unless
   compelled by self-defence....”

Wilkinson never did expose them, nor did he molest in any serious
degree the society of New Orleans.

Had Wilkinson been satisfied to secure the city without magnifying
himself, he might perhaps have won its regard and gratitude; but he
could do nothing without noise and display. Before many days had passed
he put an embargo on the shipping and set the whole city at work on
defences. He spread panic-stricken stories of Burr’s force and of
negro insurrection. He exasperated the judges and the bar, alienated
Claiborne, and disgusted the creoles. Nothing but a bloody convulsion
or an assault upon the city from Burr’s armed thousands could save
Wilkinson from becoming ridiculous.

Jan. 12, 1807, the Legislature met. Probably at no time had Burr’s
project received much avowed support, even among those persons to
whom it had been confided. Men of wealth and character had no fancy
for so wild a scheme. The conduct of Daniel Clark was an example of
what Burr had to expect from every man of property and standing. The
Legislature was under the influence of conservative and somewhat timid
men, from whom no serious danger was to be expected, and whose fears
were calculated to strengthen rather than to weaken the government; yet
it was true that Burr had counted upon this meeting of the Legislature
to declare Louisiana independent, and to offer him the government.
He was to have waited at Natchez for a delegation to bring him the
offer; and he was supposed to be already at Natchez. The city had been
kept for a month in a state of continual alarm, distracted by rumors,
and expecting some outbreak from day to day, assured by Wilkinson
that Burr with seven thousand men might appear at any moment, with a
negro insurrection behind him and British ships in the river, when
suddenly John Adair rode into town, and descended at the door of
Madame Nourage’s boarding-house. Judge Prevost, Burr’s stepson, was
so indiscreet as to announce publicly that General Adair, second in
command to Burr, had arrived in town with news that Burr would follow
in three days, and that it would soon be seen whether Wilkinson’s
tyranny would prevail.[234] The same afternoon Lieutenant-Colonel
Kingsbury of the First Infantry, at the head of a hundred and twenty
men, appeared at the door of the hotel and marched Burr’s second
in command to prison. Adair afterward claimed that if he had been
allowed forty-eight hours no one could have arrested him, for he had
more friends in New Orleans than the General had; but even he must
have seen that the conspiracy was dead. For a moment his arrest, and
a few others made at the same time, caused excitement, and Wilkinson
ordered detachments of troops to patrol the city; but thenceforward
confidence began to return and soon the crisis passed away, carrying
with it forever most of the discontent and danger which had marked
the annexation of Louisiana. If New Orleans never became thoroughly
American, at least it was never again thoroughly French.

Unfortunately for Wilkinson’s hopes of figuring in the character of
savior to his country, Burr’s expedition met with an inglorious and
somewhat ridiculous end before it came within sight of Wilkinson or his
command. After leaving Fort Massac, the little flotilla entered the
Mississippi, and in a few days reached Chickasaw Bluffs, where a small
military post of nineteen men was stationed, commanded by a second
lieutenant of artillery, who had received no more instructions than had
been received by Captain Bissell. So far from stopping the flotilla,
Lieutenant Jackson was nearly persuaded to join it, and actually
accepted money from Burr to raise a company in his service.[235]
January 6, leaving Chickasaw Bluffs, the flotilla again descended the
river until, January 10, it reached the mouth of Bayou Pierre, about
thirty miles above Natchez. There Burr went ashore, and at the house of
a certain Judge Bruin he saw a newspaper containing the letter which he
had himself written in cipher to Wilkinson July 29, and which Wilkinson
had published December 26.

From the moment Burr saw himself denounced by Wilkinson, his only
hope was to escape. The President’s proclamation had reached the
Mississippi Territory; Cowles Meade, the acting-governor, had called
out the militia. If Burr went on he would fall into the hands of
Wilkinson, who had every motive to order him to be court-martialled
and shot; if he stayed where he was, Cowles Meade would arrest and
send him to Washington. Moving his flotilla across the river, Burr
gave way to despair. Some ideas of resistance were entertained by
Blennerhassett and the other leaders of the party; but they were
surprised to find their “emperor” glad to abdicate and submit. January
17 Burr met Acting-Governor Cowles Meade and surrendered at discretion.
His conversation at that moment was such that Meade thought him
insane.[236] January 21 he caused his cases of muskets, which had been
at first secreted in the brush, to be sunk in the river. After his
surrender he was taken to Washington, the capital of the Territory,
about seven miles from Natchez. A grand-jury was summoned, and the
attorney-general, Poindexter, attempted to obtain an indictment. The
grand-jury not only threw out the bill, but presented the seizure of
Burr and his accomplices as a grievance. The very militia who stopped
him were half inclined to join his expedition. Except for a score of
United States officials, civil and military, he might have reached New
Orleans without a check.

Fortunately neither the civil nor the military authorities of the
national government were disposed to be made a jest. The grand-jury
could grant but a respite, and Burr had still to decide between
evils. If he fell into Wilkinson’s hands he risked a fate of which he
openly expressed fear. During the delay his men on the flotilla had
become disorganized and insubordinate; his drafts on New York had been
returned protested; he knew that the military authorities at Fort Adams
were determined to do what the civil authorities had failed in doing;
and his courage failed him when he realized that he must either be
delivered to President Jefferson, whom he had defied, or to General
Wilkinson, whom he had tried to deceive.

Feb. 1, 1807, after sending to his friends on the flotilla a note to
assure them of his immediate return,[237] Burr turned his back on
them, and left them to the ruin for which he alone was responsible.
Disguised in the coarse suit of a Mississippi boatman, with a soiled
white-felt hat, he disappeared into the woods, and for nearly a month
was lost from sight. Toward the end of February he was recognized in
a cabin near the Spanish frontier, about fifty miles above Mobile;
and his presence was announced to Lieutenant Gaines, commanding at
Fort Stoddert, near by. Gaines arrested him. After about three weeks
of confinement at Fort Stoddert he was sent to Richmond in Virginia.
In passing through the town of Chester, in South Carolina, he flung
himself from his horse and cried for a rescue; but the officer
commanding the escort seized him, threw him back like a child into the
saddle, and marched on. Like many another man in American history, Burr
felt at last the physical strength of the patient and long-suffering
government which he had so persistently insulted, outraged, and
betrayed.

Not until the end of March, 1807, did Burr reach Richmond; and in the
mean while a whole session of Congress had passed, revolution after
revolution had taken place in Europe, and a new series of political
trials had begun for President Jefferson’s troubled Administration.
The conspiracy of Burr was a mere episode, which had little direct
connection with foreign or domestic politics, and no active popular
support in any quarter. The affairs of the country at large felt hardly
a perceptible tremor in the midst of the excitement which convulsed
New Orleans; and the general public obstinately refused to care what
Burr was doing, or to believe that he was so insane as to expect a
dissolution of the Union. In spite of the President’s proclamation of
Nov. 27, 1806, no special interest was roused, and even the Congress
which met a few days later, Dec. 1, 1806, at first showed indifference
to Burr and his affairs.

If this was a matter for blame, the fault certainly lay with the
President, who had hitherto refused to whisper a suspicion either
of Burr’s loyalty or of the patriotism which Jefferson believed to
characterize Louisiana, the Mississippi Territory, and Tennessee. Even
the proclamation had treated Burr’s enterprise as one directed wholly
against Spain. The Annual Message, read December 2, showed still more
strongly a wish to ignore Burr’s true objects. Not only did it allude
to the proclamation with an air of apology, as rendered necessary by
“the criminal attempts of private individuals to decide for their
country the question of peace or war,” but it praised in defiance of
evidence the conduct of the militia of Louisiana and Mississippi in
supporting Claiborne and Wilkinson against the Spaniards:--

   “I inform you with great pleasure of the promptitude with
   which the inhabitants of those Territories have tendered
   their services in defence of their country. It has done honor
   to themselves, entitled them to the confidence of their
   fellow-citizens in every part of the Union, and must strengthen
   the general determination to protect them efficaciously under
   all circumstances which may occur.”

On some subjects Jefferson was determined to shut his eyes. He
officially asserted that the Orleans militia had done honor to
themselves and won the confidence of their fellow-citizens at a moment
when he was receiving from Governor Claiborne almost daily warnings
that the Orleans militia could not be trusted, and would certainly not
fight against Spain.

By this course of conduct Jefferson entangled himself in a new
labyrinth of contradictions and inconsistencies. Until that moment,
his apparent interests and wishes led him to ignore or to belittle
Burr’s conspiracy; but after the moment had passed, his interests
and convictions obliged him to take the views and share the
responsibilities of General Wilkinson. Thus John Randolph found
fresh opportunities to annoy the President, while the President lost
his temper, and challenged another contest with Luther Martin and
Chief-Justice Marshall.

After shutting his ears to the reiterated warnings of Eaton, Truxton,
Morgan, Daveiss, and even to the hints of Wilkinson himself; after
neglecting to take precautions against Burr, Wilkinson, or the city
of New Orleans, and after throwing upon the Western people the
responsibility for doing what the government had been instituted to
do; after issuing a proclamation which treated Burr’s armament as
a filibustering venture like that of Miranda; and after sending to
Congress an Annual Message which excused the proclamation on the ground
that it was an act of good faith toward Spain, although Spain took no
such view of it,--Jefferson could not reasonably expect the opposition
in Congress to accept without a protest sudden legislation resting on
the theory that the Constitution and the Union were in danger.

The month of December, 1806, passed at Washington without producing a
public display of uneasiness on the President’s part; the Government
was waiting to hear from Kentucky and Ohio. Outwardly Jefferson
continued to rely on the patriotism of the people of Louisiana, but
inwardly he was troubled with fears. December 22 Robert Smith, anxious
to save himself from possible calamity, wrote to him a letter of
remonstrance.

   “In the course of our various communications,” said Smith,[238]
   “in relation to the movements of Colonel Burr in the Western
   country, I have from time to time expressed the opinions which,
   as they were not at all countenanced by any of the other
   gentlemen, I did not deem it expedient to press upon your
   attention.... If, as was proposed on the 24th of October, the
   sloops-of-war and the gunboats stationed at Washington, New
   York, Norfolk, and Charleston had been sent to New Orleans under
   the command of Commodore Preble, with Captain Decatur second in
   command, we would at this time have nothing to apprehend from
   the military expedition of Colonel Burr. Such a naval force
   joined to the ketches and gunboats now on the Mississippi,
   would beyond a doubt have been sufficient to suppress such an
   enterprise. But this step, momentous as it was, the Executive
   could not take consistently with the limitations of existing
   statutes and with the spirit manifested by the House of
   Representatives at their last session. The approaching crisis
   will, I fear, be a melancholy proof of the want of forecast in
   so circumscribing the Executive within such narrow limits.”

Robert Smith, conscious of being the person whom Congress most
distrusted, grasped at the idea of freeing himself from restraint,
and did not stop to ask whether Burr’s impunity were due to want of
forecast in Congress or in the Executive. He was alarmed; and the
President’s reply to his letter showed that Jefferson was equally
uncomfortable.[239]

   “What I had myself in contemplation,” the President answered,
   “was to wait till we get news from Louisville of December 15,
   the day of Burr’s proposed general rendezvous. The post comes
   from thence in twelve days. The mail next expected will be of
   that date. If we then find that his force has had no effectual
   opposition at either Marietta or Cincinnati, and will not be
   stopped at Louisville, then, without depending on the opposition
   at Fort Adams (though I have more dependence on that than
   any other), I should propose to lay the whole matter before
   Congress, ask an immediate appropriation for a naval equipment,
   and at the same time order twenty thousand militia, or
   volunteers, from the Western States to proceed down the river to
   retake New Orleans, presuming our naval equipment would be there
   before them. In the mean time I would recommend to you to be
   getting ready and giving orders of preparation to the officers
   and vessels which we can get speedily ready.”

Not a trace of confidence in the people of Louisiana was to be detected
in this plan of operations. The duty of the government not only to
act, but to act with extreme quickness and vigor, before Burr should
come within a long distance of New Orleans, was avowed. The idea of
calling out twenty thousand men to retake New Orleans showed a degree
of alarm contrasting strongly with the equanimity that preceded
it, and with the inertness which had allowed such an emergency to
arise. The difference of tone between this letter and the President’s
public language was extreme. Nevertheless, the Western mail arrived,
bringing news that the State of Ohio had seized the greater part of
Burr’s boats, that six or eight had escaped, and that Burr had gone
to Nashville; and in this partly satisfactory report the President
saw reason for further silence. Next came, Jan. 2, 1807, Wilkinson’s
letter of November 12 from Natchez, with its pledge to perish in New
Orleans, and with messages, not trusted to writing, but orally imparted
to the messenger, about Burr’s cipher letters and their contents.
Still the President made no sign. For want of some clew his followers
were greatly perplexed; and men like John Randolph, who hated the
President, and Samuel Smith, who did not love him, began to suspect
that at last the Administration was fairly at a standstill. Randolph,
with his usual instability, swayed between extremes of scepticism.
At one moment he believed that the situation was most serious; at
another, that the conspiracy was only a Spanish intrigue. January 2 he
wrote to Monroe, in London, a letter full of the conviction that Spain
was behind Burr:[240] “I am informed also, through a very direct and
respectable channel, that there is a considerable party about Lexington
and Frankfort highly propitious to his views, and with strong Spanish
prepossessions. Some names which have been mentioned as of the number
would astonish you.” Jefferson’s conduct irritated him more than that
of Burr or Yrujo:--

   “The state of things here is indeed unexampled. Although the
   newspapers teem with rumors dangerous to the peace and safety
   of the Union, and notwithstanding Government give full faith
   and credit to the existence of a formidable conspiracy, and
   have given information and instructions to the several State
   authorities how to act (under which Ohio has done herself much
   honor), yet not one syllable has been communicated to Congress
   on the subject. There are some other curious circumstances which
   I must reserve for oral communication, not caring to trust them
   by letter. One fact, however, ought not to be omitted. The army
   (as it is called) is in the most contemptible state, unprovided
   with everything, and men and officers unacquainted with their
   duties.”

In what state Randolph expected the army to be, after six years of
such legislation as his, could not be guessed. Officers and soldiers,
distributed by companies, in forts hundreds of miles distant from
each other, could hardly become acquainted with any other duties than
those of a frontier garrison. General Smith did not, like Randolph,
complain of others for the consequences of his own acts. He too wrote
at that moment a confidential letter, describing the situation, to his
brother-in-law, Wilson Cary Nicholas:[241]--

   “I fear that Burr will go down the river and give us trouble.
   The proclamation, it seems, in the Western country is very
   little attended to. They, no doubt, seeing no exertion making,
   consider that it has originated from false information. The
   President has not yet given any kind of information to Congress,
   and gentlemen (Giles among the number) will not believe that
   there is any kind of danger.... Burr’s letter to Wilkinson
   is explicit. (This is secret.) He had passed the Alleghany
   _never, never_ to return; his object, New Orleans,--open
   and avowed. And yet not one step taken, except the proclamation!
   Duane calls on Congress to act. How can Congress act? Would you
   force from the Executive the information they are unwilling
   to give? This would be imprudent. I have (with consent of the
   President) introduced a Resolution proposing an addition to our
   military establishment. Will it pass? That I can’t tell.... It
   is curious that the nation should depend on the unauthorized
   exertions of a man whose honor and fidelity were doubted by all
   except a very, very few, not five in the United States, for its
   preservation and character. Had he not disclosed the conspiracy,
   the President would have folded his arms and let the storm
   collect its whole strength. Even now, not an energetic measure
   has been taken except by him [Wilkinson] and Tiffin.”

Another week passed. Then at last, January 16, John Randolph rose in
the House and moved a Resolution asking the President what he knew
about Burr’s affairs, and what he had done or meant to do in the
matter. “The United States are not only threatened with external war,”
Randolph said, “but with conspiracies and treasons, the more alarming
from their not being defined; and yet we sit and adjourn, adjourn
and sit, take things as schoolboys, do as we are bid, and ask no
questions!” His Resolution annoyed the democrats; but his sneers were
more convincing than his arguments, and after some contradictory and
unorganized resistance, a majority supported him. The Resolution was
adopted and sent to the President.

Two days afterward, January 18, Wilkinson’s despatches from New Orleans
to December 18, embracing his first written version of Burr’s cipher
despatch reached Washington. The country learned that Wilkinson had
arrested Bollman and other accomplices of Burr, and in defiance of
their legal rights had shipped them to Washington for trial. Jefferson
was obliged to decide whether he should sustain or repudiate Wilkinson;
and in the light of Burr’s revelations and Wilkinson’s _quasi_
confession, he could not deny that a serious conspiracy existed, or
affirm that the General had gone beyond the line of duty, even though
he had violated the laws. Dearborn’s instructions, indeed, had to some
extent authorized the arrests. At that moment if the President had
repudiated Wilkinson, he would have only diverted public indignation
from Burr, and would have condemned the Executive itself, which after
so many warnings had left such power in the hands of a man universally
distrusted.

Thus at last Jefferson was obliged to raise his voice against Burr’s
crimes. Thenceforward a sense of having been made almost a party to the
conspiracy gave a sting of personal bitterness to the zeal with which
he strove to defend Wilkinson and to punish Burr. Anxiety to excuse
himself was evident in the Message which he sent to Congress January
22, in response to Randolph’s Resolution of January 16.

   “Some time in the latter part of September,” he said, “I
   received intimations that designs were in agitation in the
   Western country, unlawful and unfriendly to the peace of the
   Union, and that the prime mover in these was Aaron Burr.”

He had received such intimations many times, and long before the month
of September.

   “It was not till the latter part of October that the objects of
   the conspiracy began to be perceived.”

Absolute truth would have required the President to say rather that it
was not till the latter part of October that inquiry on his part began
to be made.

   “In Kentucky a premature attempt to bring Burr to justice,
   without a sufficient evidence for his conviction, had produced a
   popular impression in his favor and a general disbelief of his
   guilt. This gave him an unfortunate opportunity of hastening his
   equipments.”

Complaint of District-Attorney Daveiss was natural; but the reproof
was inexact in every particular. The attempt to indict Burr, if any
attempt were to be made, was not premature. The impression in his
favor did not give Burr an opportunity to hasten his equipments, since
Graham appeared at Marietta the same day with the news of Burr’s first
discharge at Frankfort. Finally, if Daveiss’s attempt failed, the fault
was chiefly with the Government at Washington, which had taken no
measures to direct or to support it, and which was represented on the
bench by a judge himself implicated in the charge.

   “On the whole,” said the Message, “the fugitives from the Ohio,
   with their associates from Cumberland, or any other place in
   that quarter, cannot threaten serious danger to the city of New
   Orleans.”

Yet a conspiracy against the Union existed; the President communicated
Burr’s cipher letters; he proclaimed Burr’s expectation of seizing upon
New Orleans, as well as the panic prevailing there; and he approved
Wilkinson’s arrest of Bollman and Swartwout. Finally, the Message spoke
of the people in New Orleans in a tone of confidence quite different
from that of Wilkinson’s despatches, communicated with the Message
itself.[242]

The Senate interpreted the Message in the sense it was doubtless
meant to bear,--as a request from the President for support. Bollman
and Swartwout, who would arrive in Washington within a few days or
hours, had been illegally arrested, and they, as well as the other
conspirators, could not without special legislation be held longer
in custody. Giles at once introduced a Bill suspending for three
months the writ of habeas corpus with respect to such persons; and the
necessity of this measure seemed so obvious to the Senate that the
Rules were suspended by unanimous consent, and the Bill was passed
on the same day through all its stages. Bayard alone voted against
it.[243]

Monday, January 26, the Bill was brought before the House, and Eppes of
Virginia, the President’s son-in-law, immediately moved its rejection.
The debate that followed was curious, not only on account of the
constitutional points discussed, but also on account of the division
of sentiment among the President’s friends, who quoted the Message to
prove that there was no danger to public safety such as called for
a suspension of habeas corpus, and appealed to the same Message to
prove the existence of a more wanton and malignant insurrection than
any that had ever before been raised against the Government. John
Randolph intimated that the President was again attempting to evade
responsibility.

   “It appears to my mind,” said he, “like an oblique attempt to
   cover a certain departure from an established law of the land,
   and a certain violation of the Constitution of the United
   States, which we are told have been committed in this country.
   Sir, recollect that Congress met on the first of December; that
   the President had information of the incipient stage of this
   conspiracy about the last of September; that the proclamation
   issued before Congress met; and yet that no suggestion, either
   from the Executive or from either branch of the Legislature,
   has transpired touching the propriety of suspending the writ
   of habeas corpus until this violation has taken place. I will
   never agree in this side way to cover up such a violation by
   a proceeding highly dangerous to the liberty of the country,
   or to agree that this invaluable privilege shall be suspended
   because it has been already violated,--and suspended, too, after
   the cause, if any there was for it, has ceased to exist.... With
   whatever epithets gentlemen may dignify this conspiracy, ... I
   think it nothing more nor less than an intrigue!”

The Bill was accordingly rejected by the great majority of one hundred
and thirteen to nineteen. On the same day the attorney-general applied
to Judge Cranch of the District Court for a warrant against Bollman and
Swartwout on the charge of treason, filing Wilkinson’s affidavit and a
statement given under oath by William Eaton in support of the charge.
The warrant was issued; Bollman and Swartwout at once applied to the
Supreme Court, then in session, for a writ of habeas corpus. February
13 Chief-Justice Marshall granted the writ; February 16 their counsel
moved for their discharge; and February 21 the chief-justice decided
that sufficient evidence of levying war against the United States had
not been produced to justify the commitment of Swartwout, and still
less that of Bollman, and therefore that they must be discharged. Adair
and Ogden, who had been sent to Baltimore, were liberated by Judge
Nicholson.

The friends of the Administration, exasperated at this failure of
justice, again talked of impeaching the judges.[244] Giles threatened
to move an amendment of the Constitution taking all criminal
jurisdiction from the Supreme Court. Meanwhile Randolph and the
Federalists assailed Wilkinson, and by implication the President. They
brought forward a Resolution declaring the expediency of making further
provision by law for securing the privilege of habeas corpus; and in
the warm debate raised by this manœuvre John Randolph made himself
conspicuous by slurs upon Wilkinson, whom he did not scruple to charge
with double treason,--to the Constitution and to Burr. By a close vote
of sixty to fifty-eight this Resolution was indefinitely postponed; but
the debate showed the settled drift of Randolph’s tactics. He meant to
attack the President by attacking Wilkinson; and the President could
no longer evade responsibility for Wilkinson’s acts. To be thwarted by
Chief-Justice Marshall and baited by John Randolph; to be made at once
the scapegoat of Burr’s crimes and of Wilkinson’s extravagances,--was
a fate peculiarly hard to bear, but was one which Jefferson could not
escape.

Thenceforward the situation changed. What seemed to be the indictment
and trial of Burr became, in a political point of view, the trial of
Wilkinson, with John Randolph acting as accuser and President Jefferson
as counsel for the defence, while Chief-Justice Marshall presided
in judgment. No more unpleasant attitude could be readily imagined
for a man of Jefferson’s high position and pure character than to
plead before his two most formidable and unforgiving enemies as the
patron and protector of a client so far beneath respect. Driven by
forces which allowed no choice of paths, he stood by the man who had
saved him; but in order to understand precisely what he effected in
sustaining Wilkinson, Americans must look in the archives of the King
of Spain for knowledge of facts disbelieved by the President of the
United States.

   “According to appearances,” wrote Yrujo Jan. 28, 1807,[245]
   “Spain has saved the United States from the separation of
   the Union which menaced them. This would have taken place if
   Wilkinson had entered cordially into the views of Burr,--which
   was to be expected, because Wilkinson detests this government,
   and the separation of the Western States has been his favorite
   plan. The evil has come from the foolish and pertinacious
   perseverance with which Burr has persisted in carrying out a
   wild project against Mexico. Wilkinson is entirely devoted
   to us. He enjoys a considerable pension from the King. With
   his natural capacity and his local and military knowledge, he
   anticipated with moral certainty the failure of an expedition
   of this nature. Doubtless he foresaw from the first that the
   improbability of success in case of making the attempt would
   leave him like the dog in the fable with the piece of meat in
   his mouth; that is, that he would lose the honorable employment
   he holds and the generous pension he enjoys from the King. These
   considerations, secret in their nature, he could not explain
   to Burr; and when the latter persisted in an idea so fatal to
   Wilkinson’s interests, nothing remained but to take the course
   adopted. By this means he assures his pension; and will allege
   his conduct on this occasion as an extraordinary service, either
   for getting it increased, or for some generous compensation. On
   the other hand this proceeding secures his distinguished rank in
   the military service of the United States, and covers him with
   a popularity which may perhaps result in pecuniary advantages,
   and in any case will flatter his vanity. In such an alternative
   he has acted as was to be expected; that is, he has sacrificed
   Burr in order to obtain, on the ruins of Burr’s reputation, the
   advantages I have pointed out.”

Whether Yrujo was right in his theory of Wilkinson’s motives
might be doubted, but on one point he could not be mistaken. The
general-in-chief of the United States Army was in the employment of
Don Carlos IV.; he enjoyed a pension of two thousand dollars a year in
consideration of secret services, and for twenty years the services had
been rendered and the pension had been paid.[246]




                              CHAPTER XV.


JEFFERSON’S effort to suppress the scandal of Burr’s disunion
scheme had its source in motives both pure and generous. Distressed by
the factiousness of the last session, he could feel no wish more ardent
than to restore harmony to his party. The struggle for the succession
threatened to tear from his brows the hard-won laurels which were his
only pleasure, and the reward for infinite labors and mortifications.
So far as he could, he stifled discussion in regard to the coming
change.

   “The question,” he wrote to Leiper of Pennsylvania,[247] “cannot
   be touched without endangering the harmony of the present
   session of Congress, and disturbing the tranquillity of the
   nation itself prematurely and injuriously.... The present
   session is important as having new and great questions to
   decide, in the decision of which no schismatic views should take
   any part.”

In this spirit the President shaped his acts. Reunion in a common
policy, a controlling impulse, was the motive of his gentleness toward
Randolph and the Virginia schismatics, as it was that of his blindness
to the doings of Burr.

The Annual Message of December, 1806, was intended to unite the party
on a new plane of action, and to prepare the way for Madison’s gentle
rule. Foreign affairs were to be allowed to drop from sight; France,
England, and Spain were to be forgotten; Florida was to be ignored;
political energy was to be concentrated upon the harvesting of fruits
already ripe. For six years, carrying out the policy of discharging
public debt, Gallatin had pursued his economies, in the opinion of many
good men pressing them so far as to paralyze Government. The time had
come when he could do no more. Twenty-four millions of debt had been
paid. Of the remainder about ten millions only could be dealt with;
and arrangements were made for discharging these ten millions before
Jefferson’s term should end. Meanwhile the revenue was growing; the
surplus must be disposed of, and the period of pinching economies might
cease. Henceforward Republicans, Democrats, and Federalists might agree
on some common system of expenditure.

   “The question now comes forward,” said the Annual Message, “to
   what other objects shall these surpluses be appropriated, and
   the whole surplus of impost, after the entire discharge of
   the public debt, and during those intervals when the purposes
   of war shall not call for them? Shall we suppress the impost,
   and give that advantage to foreign over domestic manufactures?
   On a few articles of more general and necessary use the
   suppression in due season will doubtless be right; but the
   great mass of the articles on which impost is paid are foreign
   luxuries, purchased by those only who are rich enough to afford
   themselves the use of them. Their patriotism would certainly
   prefer its continuance and application to the great purposes
   of the public education, roads, rivers, canals, and such other
   objects of public improvement as it may be thought proper to
   add to the constitutional enumeration of federal powers. By
   these operations new channels of communication will be opened
   between the States, the lines of separation will disappear,
   their interests will be identified, and their union cemented by
   new and indissoluble ties. Education is here placed among the
   articles of public care, not that it would be proposed to take
   its ordinary branches out of the hands of private enterprise,
   which manages so much better all the concerns to which it is
   equal; but a public institution can alone supply those sciences
   which, though rarely called for, are yet necessary to complete
   the circle, all the parts of which contribute to the improvement
   of the country, and some of them to its preservation.”

With an air of apology, as though his old opinions were no longer
of practical interest, the President added that an amendment to the
Constitution would be necessary in order to bring these new functions
within the enumerated objects of government; but to such an amendment
he saw no objection, nor did he apprehend difficulty in obtaining it.
A broad system of internal improvements; a national university; “a
steady, perhaps a quickened, pace in preparations for the defence of
our seaport towns and waters; an early settlement of the most exposed
and vulnerable parts of our country; a militia so organized that
its effective portions can be called to any point in the Union, or
volunteers instead of them, to serve a sufficient time,”--these were
the objects to which Congress should devote its energies, in order that
when the two remaining years of Jefferson’s power should come to an
end, the fabric of Republican government might be complete.

That Federalist and Democrat could join in accepting such a scheme of
action, and could lay aside forever their old, unprofitable disputes,
seemed no wild dream. The hope was strengthened by a paragraph of the
Message which held out the prospect of removing another serious barrier
to perfect harmony:--

   “I congratulate you, fellow-citizens, on the approach
   of the period at which you may interpose your authority
   constitutionally to withdraw the citizens of the United States
   from all further participation in those violations of human
   rights which have been so long continued on the unoffending
   inhabitants of Africa, and which the morality, the reputation,
   and the best interests of our country have long been eager to
   proscribe.”

Almost ignoring foreign politics, Jefferson recommended Congress to
abolish the slave-trade, begin a system of national roads and canals,
found a national university, fortify the coasts, and organize the
national militia; and had Congress been able or willing to follow
promptly his advice, many difficulties would have been overcome before
the year 1810 which seemed even twenty years later to bar the path of
national progress. Congress, indeed, never succeeded in rising to the
level of Jefferson’s hopes and wishes; it realized but a small part of
the plan which he traced, and what it did was done with little system.
The slowness with which political movement lagged behind industrial and
social progress could be measured by the fate of President Jefferson’s
scheme of 1806 for crowning the fabric of Republican government. Not by
means of the government, or by virtue of wisdom in the persons trusted
with the government, were Jefferson’s objects destined at last to be
partially attained.

Notwithstanding the favor shown to internal improvements, John Randolph
exulted in the President’s Message, which he regarded as expressing his
own views. He scoffed at the Smiths, Crowninshields, and other orators
who in the last session had talked loudly of war.[248]

   “The Message,” he wrote to Nicholson, “was, as you supposed,
   wormwood to certain gentry. They made wry faces, but in fear
   of the rod and in hopes of sugarplums swallowed it with less
   apparent repugnance than I had predicted.”

General Smith and the politicians who wanted armaments were annoyed.

   “We have established theories,” wrote Smith,[249] “that would
   stare down any possible measures of offence or defence. Should
   a man take a patriotic stand against those destructive and
   seductive fine-spun follies, he will be written down very soon.
   Look at the last Message! It is such that the President cannot
   recommend (although he now sees the necessity) any augmentation
   of the army. Nay I, even _I_, did not dare to bring forward
   the measure until I had first obtained his approbation. Never
   was there a time when Executive influence so completely governed
   the nation!”

No man of ordinary sense could fail to feel some shame at the
recollection of what had taken place in regard to Florida, or to
wish that it might be forgotten; and the friends of Madison had
every reason for ignoring it and for welcoming Randolph’s followers
back into the party, if they would consent to come. The session took
character from this spirit of reconciliation. The first Bill adopted
by Congress suspended, at the President’s judgment, the operation of
the Non-importation Act passed in April; and Randolph did not fail
to suggest that his sarcasms against those who had urged this law
were justified by its instant suspension. The next important measure,
brought forward under the President’s patronage, was the abolition of
the duty on salt; and Randolph reminded the House that this relief from
taxation followed close upon his own strenuous efforts of the year
before. Throughout the session Randolph took the tone of a dictator;
and on most questions a majority of the House tried only to vie with
him in the race for popularity. Old subjects of dispute were laid
aside; the Yazoo claims were forgotten. In regard to the army and
navy, Randolph was allowed to have his way; in the case of Bollman and
Swartwout, he stopped the attempt to suspend the writ of habeas corpus;
in sympathy with his opinions the House cut down appropriations,
refused to fortify New York, declined to increase the army, and
reverted to the first principles of the Republican party. The session
of 1806–1807 was a perpetual effort to win back the confidence and
support of Virginia for Madison, and leave no excuse for defection to
Monroe.

General Smith thought Executive influence more powerful than ever, but
the President seemed to influence only by disguising his weakness.
Little or no attention was paid to his wishes. He would gladly have
built ships of the line, he would willingly have fortified New York,
he would have liked two more regiments to garrison the military posts;
but he could do nothing in face of the reaction which, at Randolph’s
bidding, swept the Southern Republicans back to their practices of 1801
and their professions of 1798. The force of reactionary feeling was
shown in speeches which revealed a dangerous chasm between North and
South. On the question of fortifying New York, Southern Republicans
took ground which caused New York Democrats to feel toward Virginia
a disgust as deep as ever had been felt by Burr. Nelson of Maryland
favored abandoning the cities altogether in case of attack:[250] “When
the enemy comes, let them take our towns, and let us retire into the
country.” Holland of North Carolina regarded the seaboard cities as so
many enemies:[251]

   “If New York and our other cities were only tolerably fortified,
   Mr. Holland was confident that we should go to war. He lamented
   the consequences of that disposition that is for novelty in this
   country,--a disposition that cannot be quelled. Our commercial
   towns are defenceless, and that is our only safety at present. I
   want to see not a single ship, or any preparation for war.”

Eppes of Virginia, the President’s son-in-law, spoke hotly against the
doctrine of defence:--

   “If there is any principle which ought to be hooted at in a
   Republican government, it is the very principle laid down by the
   gentleman from New York as the basis of his reasoning,--that
   to preserve peace we ought to be prepared for war. Sir, it is
   this very principle which is the source of all the miseries of
   Europe.”

John Randolph also favored abandoning New York in case of attack:[252]--

   “Suppose New York ever so well fortified, an army may land
   above the city and cut off its intercourse with the country. A
   fortification there would be made for the enemy. Not a man of
   our army would have escaped in the last war from Long Island, if
   the enemy’s general had not been treacherous to his duty; and
   all the calamities of that campaign might have been avoided if
   our army had retreated into the country.”

Answer to arguments like these was of course impossible. The only final
answer was to take the Southern people at their word, and to assert
as a principle the rule that seaboard cities, being entitled to no
protection from government in case of attack, should have the right to
protect themselves by inviting the enemy to occupy them. Boston and New
York had no reason to fear the operation of such a rule, if it suited
the interests of Virginia; but as an argument even this logic would
have availed nothing, because so deep was Virginian antipathy to cities
that Randolph and all his friends would have answered with one voice,
“We expect no better!”

The unwillingness of the Southern Republicans to fortify extended only
to forts and ships, not to gunboats. Randolph had not much faith in
gunboats; but his friends were willing to spend comparatively large
sums on these cheap defences. Their theory was reasonable. A coast
like that of America could not be protected by fixed fortifications
alone,--only some system of movable batteries could answer the whole
purpose; but in such a system everything depended on the effectiveness
of the battery to be selected, and no one could say that the gunboat
would prove to be effective. Most sea-going people pronounced it a
failure; and in the navy, gunboat service was never popular. The real
argument for gunboats was their assumed cheapness; but Gallatin and
the Northern Democrats, as well as the Federalists, foresaw that the
supposed economy was a delusion. A gunboat cost some ten thousand
dollars or less, and a whole flotilla of gunboats could be built for
the price of a frigate; but no one could say how much this flotilla
would cost in annual repairs or in actual service. The life of a
gunboat was short.

These doubts had no effect on the majority of the House.
“Fortifications will be of no possible service unless they are manned,”
argued Nelson,[253] “and to man them we must have a large standing
army.” He wanted to know whether the House was prepared to adopt a
system that would require the raising of above one hundred thousand
men. If forts were of no possible service unless they were always
manned,--new as the assertion was,--surely gunboats were open to the
same objection; yet Nelson wanted to spend three hundred thousand
dollars in building gunboats, and he was willing to build any number of
gunboats the navy might ask for.[254]

The Northern seaboard representatives rejected the offer of gunboats,
and allowed the Southern States to dispose of them. No appropriation
for fortifying New York could be obtained. The theory that seaboard
cities could not be defended received general assent; but many of the
members went further, and declared that no danger to those cities
existed. A policy of neglecting defence might be safe in peace,
when foreign nations had every interest to avoid a war; but nothing
could warrant the common assertion that danger of war existed only
from America herself, at a moment when France was attacking American
commerce by measures of actual warfare, when England was hesitating
whether to permit America to trade at all except with the British
Islands, and when diplomatic relations with Spain had ceased, the
ministers at Madrid and Washington had been withdrawn, and a Spanish
army was threatening New Orleans.

Willis Alston of North Carolina, chiefly known as an object of
Randolph’s peculiar contempt and personal violence, took as strong
ground as Randolph himself on these questions. On the other hand Josiah
Quincy showed in a high degree the art of irritating opponents by his
manner of expressing a low opinion of their sense and motives; and the
Southern members resented this treatment the more because Quincy was
a man well born and well educated, whose social standing could not be
questioned. In reply to his taunts Alston resorted to the well-worn
commonplaces of the Republican party. “The present Administration,”
said he, “has taken up a new system of defence,--it is that of saving
the public money. This system is new, and not known in Federal
times. We have not gone on increasing taxes, like our predecessors.”
The assertion could not be denied; but Quincy’s retort was not the
less pungent. “The Federal Administration,” he replied, “saved the
country from danger and disgrace: I wish I could say as much of their
successors.”

The whole issue lay in these short charges and counter-charges. To some
extent the President, his Cabinet, and the Senate had become converted
to Federalist views; but the influence of Randolph and of popular
prejudices peculiar to Southern society held the House stiffly to an
impracticable creed. Whatever the North and East wanted the South and
West refused. Jefferson’s wishes fared no better than the requests
of the State and city of New York; the House showed no alacrity in
taking up the subject of roads, canals, or universities. The only
innovation which made its way through Congress was the Act of Feb. 10,
1807, appropriating fifty thousand dollars for the establishment of a
coast survey, for this was an object in which the Southern States were
interested as deeply as the Northern. Even the Senate’s appropriation
for beginning the Cumberland Road was indefinitely postponed by the
House.

This jealousy of government could not without ill-temper be so severely
enforced. Randolph’s manners were unconsciously imitated by the men
who imitated his statesmanship, and the Southern Republicans treated
their Northern allies with autocratic harshness as offensive as that of
Randolph. The Federalist members, for the most part able to hold their
own and even to return such treatment with manners still more arrogant,
enjoyed the irritation of Democrats like Sloan and Smilie, Bidwell and
Varnum. If the Southern planters refused to aid in fortifying New York,
the Federalists were the stronger for the refusal; and if Virginia
was anxious not to risk her tobacco and corn for the sake of Boston,
New York, and Philadelphia, the Federalists for the most part hoped
that the Northern cities might be induced to take care of themselves.
Yet although the Federalists were not sorry to see the Pennsylvania
Democrats ground under the heel of Virginia, they were surprised to
find how rapidly the sectional spirit increased in the Southern States
when slavery was in question. The debate on the abolition of the
slave-trade startled Democrats and Federalists alike.

The paragraph in the President’s Message which related to the
slave-trade was regularly referred to a special committee. Peter Early
of Georgia was chairman, while Thomas Mann Randolph of Virginia, John
Campbell of Maryland, Thomas Keenan of North Carolina, and three
Northern representatives completed the number. Early took the subject
promptly in hand, and Dec. 15, 1806, reported a Bill, which was
referred to the House in committee, and came up two days afterward
for debate. The Bill declared the importation of negroes as slaves
unlawful; imposed a fine on the importer, with forfeiture of ship and
cargo; and authorized the President to employ the armed vessels of the
United States in enforcing the law.

Under the Act which prescribed rules for forfeiture, the cargo of
a forfeited vessel was to be sold on behalf of the United States
government. The cargo of a slave-ship consisted in negroes. Under
Early’s Bill, every negro imported thenceforth into the country became
forfeit to the United States, and must be sold by the United States
government to the highest bidder.

The Pennsylvania Democrats, imbued with Quaker principles in regard
to slavery, could scarcely be expected to approve of a policy which
made the government an owner and trader in slaves. The New Englanders,
though the slave-trade had been to a great extent a Rhode Island
interest, were little inclined to adopt a law under which any cargo
of negroes that might be driven on their coast must be sold at public
auction in the streets of Newport or Boston; and perhaps even some of
the Southern members might have admitted that the chance of collusion
between importers and buyers was a serious objection to the Bill. No
one could suppose that such a measure would pass without strenuous
opposition, and no one could have felt surprise at seeing Sloan of New
Jersey immediately rise to offer an amendment providing that every
forfeited negro should be entitled to freedom.[255]

Upon this amendment a debate began which soon became hot. Early took
the ground that without his provision for forfeiture and sale, the law
would be ineffectual; that no man in the South would inform against the
slave-dealer if his act were to turn loose a quantity of savage negroes
on the public at large.

   “We must either get rid of them or they of us; there is no
   alternative; and I leave it to gentlemen to be determined which
   course would be pursued. There can be no doubt on this head. I
   will speak out; it is not my practice to be mealy-mouthed on a
   subject of importance. Not one of them would be left alive in a
   year.”

The Southern members supported Early, and the Northern members knew not
what to propose. The negroes could not be returned to Africa, because
they were all brought from the interior, and the coast tribes would
re-enslave or massacre them. Pennsylvania and Ohio were little more
anxious than Virginia to receive such citizens. Binding them to masters
for a term of years was suggested, but objections were made on both
sides.

The debate was adjourned, resumed, adjourned again; and although the
Northern speakers were forbearing, the Southern members more and more
lost their temper.

   “You have got into a great difficulty,” said David R. Williams
   of South Carolina;[256] “you are completely hobbled. It is
   so bad that you cannot go on, and you must stick where you
   are. Let me ask what is the usual conduct of legislatures on
   local subjects. Do they not inquire of those who are informed?
   Are they not guided by those who are competent to judge? The
   gentlemen from the South, who understand this subject, tell you
   how this business must be done; but the gentlemen over the way
   seem anxious now, as on a former occasion, to draw a revenue
   from the blood and sweat of the miserable Africans. I will
   not say that this is their motive, but their conduct certainly
   justifies a suspicion that their object is to pass such a law as
   will connive at the continuance of the trade for the emoluments
   of their constituents.”

The discussion was further embittered by a motion made by Smilie of
Pennsylvania to make the importation of negroes a felony to be punished
by death. This proposition called out another display of Early’s
frankness.

   “We have been asked,” said he,[257] “what punishment can
   be considered too severe for so atrocious a crime. Without
   answering the question in the abstract, it will be sufficient
   to answer it by a practical view of the subject. How do people
   consider the transaction? Do they consider it such an atrocious
   crime? They do not.”

The Pennsylvania philanthropists had assumed that they could at least
follow Jefferson in holding slavery to be an evil and the slave-trade
to be a violation of human rights; but even these points were no longer
conceded.

   “All the people in the Southern States,” continued Early,
   “are concerned in slavery. It is not, then, considered as
   criminal.... I will tell the truth,--a large majority of people
   in the Southern States do not consider slavery as even an evil.”

The death-penalty was rejected by a vote of sixty-three to fifty-three,
almost the whole Pennsylvania delegation voting in its favor. Bidwell
of Massachusetts then moved an amendment, “that no person shall be
sold as a slave by virtue of this Act;” and the House divided, sixty
against sixty,[258] nearly all the Pennsylvanians supporting Bidwell,
while ten of the seventeen New York members showed the influence of
slavery in their State by voting with the Southern slave-owners.
Six Southern men, including the member for Delaware, joined the
Pennsylvanians and New Englanders in this protest against turning the
government into a slave-trading agency; while but two Northern men
besides the members from New York voted with the South. Macon, the
Speaker, by his casting vote threw out the amendment.

Even after this point was carried, notwithstanding the time wasted in
going over and over again the same arguments on either side, the Bill
made no progress. Men like Sloan and Smilie were not gifted with great
genius, but found infinite resources in their patient obstinacy; and no
one could fail to see that the true sympathies of the House were with
them. Their first object was to prevent the forfeiture of the negroes,
because forfeiture implied title, and the United States government
could have no title in these human beings, mere captives in war of
barbarous tribes; but on that point the House was decidedly against
them, and even Josiah Quincy insisted that they were wrong. Forced
to yield on the issue of forfeiture, they resisted with the greater
obstinacy the sale of the forfeited negroes; and their objections were
so obviously sound that in spite of adverse votes they held the Bill
in suspense, and even secured its recommittal to a select committee of
their own choice.

The Southerners, who insisted that their knowledge and experience
should guide the House on a matter which they then preferred to
consider local, chafed under the patient stolidity of Quaker
conscientiousness, but submitted, rather in defiance than in
conciliation, to throw the Bill into Northern hands. The recommittal
was ordered Jan. 8, 1807, by a vote of 76 to 46; January 20 the new
Bill was reported, and the struggle began again as at first. January
28 the Senate sent down a Bill of its own for the same purpose. The
Senate debates during the session were not reported, and those of the
House were reported only in part, and briefly; but by some means the
Senate was persuaded to introduce one rigorous provision into its
Bill, prohibiting the coastwise domestic slave-trade in vessels of
less burden than forty tons, so that small craft found at sea with
cargoes of slaves could not escape under pretence of being engaged in
the domestic slave-trade. At best, the Bill could not be effective. The
Southern members frankly said that they could frame no Bill likely to
be executed, which would prevent slave-traders from smuggling negroes
across the Florida boundary or from the West Indian Islands; but the
prohibition of the coastwise transport of negroes in small vessels
seemed necessary in order to maintain even a pretence of stopping the
trade, and the Senate saw no objection to it.

The House hesitated painfully between Pennsylvanian and Virginian
influence. Very rarely did the Pennsylvanians assert themselves, and
they did so with great moderation; but they were conscientious men, and
they had behind them not only the moral support of Jefferson, but also
the steady influence of Secretary Gallatin, whose determined hostility
to slavery and the slave-trade was proved at every moment of his public
life. When, Feb. 9, 1807, the debate was resumed in Committee of the
Whole, a majority began by voting in favor of the death-penalty.
The next question rose on a new section in regard to forfeitures.
The Pennsylvania Bill provided that the forfeited negroes should be
indentured for a term of years in some free State or Territory. The
proposition seemed reasonable in itself, and calculated to give no
offence to the South; but Early declared that the inhabitants of the
Southern States would resist this provision with their lives.[259] “We
want no civil wars, no rebellions, no insurrections, no resistance to
the authority of the government. Give effect, then, to this wish, and
do not pass this Bill as it now stands.”

Even Pennsylvania patience was disturbed by an outbreak so extravagant.
Smilie, who was Irish by birth, obliged Early to take back and explain
away his words; but the flash of temper answered its purpose,--Early
carried his point. Throughout the struggle the Southern representatives
took the ground that the subject belonged to them; that they were well
aware of the defects in the Bill; that they did not expect wholly to
stop the trade, although they wished to do so; but that any stronger
measure would revolt public opinion in the South, and would leave the
trade open, because no one would venture to enforce the Act. Under
such circumstances, seeing that in any case the trade would continue,
the Pennsylvanians naturally argued that if only in order to assert
a principle, the law should be made severe; but they were abandoned
by the New Englanders, and beaten. Eleven of the Pennsylvanians clung
to the death-penalty in spite of Quaker principles; while not only
Barnabas Bidwell, but even Josiah Quincy deserted them. The House ended
by leaving to each State the decision as to the fate of the forfeited
negroes; and at length, February 13, weary of the interminable dispute,
the House adopted the Senate Bill with some amendments.

Hitherto John Randolph had taken little part in the debate; he voted
steadily with the Southern representatives, but his well-known
antislavery theories kept him quiet. His silence did not last. The
Senate disagreed to one of the amendments which had passed the House;
a committee of conference reported, and the Bill came up again on
their report. In a final debate the Southern members attacked the
prohibition of the coastwise trade, the whole measure being thus in
their eyes vitiated. Early declared that the Act would not prevent the
introduction of a single slave; Randolph asserted that the coastwise
prohibition touched the right of private property:[260] “He feared
lest, at a future period, it might be made the pretext of universal
emancipation; he had rather lose the Bill, he had rather lose all the
Bills of the session, he had rather lose every Bill passed since the
establishment of the government, than agree to the provision contained
in this slave-bill. It went to blow up the Constitution in ruins.” He
prophesied that if ever the time of disunion between the States should
arrive, the line of severance would not be between Eastern and Western,
but between slaveholding and non-slaveholding States. He said that
if ever the time should come when the South should have to depend on
the North for assistance against the slaves, he should despair. “All
he asked was that the North should remain neutral; that it should not
erect itself into an abolition society.” The vehemence of the Southern
orators was in this instance natural, for the coastwise prohibition cut
far more deeply into the constitutional rights of slave-owners than
all the other provisions of the Bill which they had so obstinately and
successfully resisted; yet on the division they were beaten by the
large majority of sixty-three to forty-nine. New York, which cared
little for the slaves, cared less for the Constitution, and reversed
its former vote. The Senate Bill, Feb. 26, 1807, was sent to the
President.[261]

That Randolph and other States-rights Republicans should be deeply
irritated was a matter of course. In their effort to tone the Bill
to make it suit the opinions of slaveholding communities, they
exhausted their strength and the public patience; and they found a
precedent slipped upon them, which would warrant almost any legislative
interference with slavery. Randolph, alive to the bearings of all
legislation which touched his class interests, at once introduced a
Bill to explain and amend the Act. Josiah Quincy promptly moved its
reference. The day was February 27, and in another week the Ninth
Congress would expire. Randolph opposed the reference, and urged the
immediate passage of his Bill, but was defeated by a vote of sixty to
forty-nine. His Bill was referred to the House in committee; it was
even made an order for the next day, but it was never taken up.

Randolph declared the hope that should his Bill fail, the Virginia
delegation would wait on the President and remonstrate against his
signing the Act for Prohibiting the Slave Trade; but no such step was
taken, and March 2, 1807, President Jefferson approved this alarming
measure. He at least had no constitutional scruples, and paid no
attention to the scruples of others. The only result of the long
sectional struggle was to disgust the Southern Republicans and their
Pennsylvanian allies alike; while, so far from obtaining a law which
should suit Southern views of the slave-trade, their Act shocked the
pride and threatened the property of every slave-owner in the South.

The disasters of the Southern, or what was afterward known as the
States-rights, party were largely due to temper. The habit of command,
giving self-confidence and vigor of will, opened a boundless field for
extravagances. The strength of men like Randolph and Early was their
chief weakness; they had every sense except the sense of proportion.
The mole-hill which tripped them seemed as serious an obstacle as
the distant mountain range, where a false step would dash them to
fragments; and when at last they reached the mountain range, with its
impassable chasms, where temper was helpless, they saw in it only a
mole-hill. That men like Sloan, the butt of the house, and like Smilie
and Findley, the ordinary representatives of an intellectual mediocrity
somewhat beneath the Pennsylvanian average, should habitually end in
carrying their points, in singular and unexpected ways, against the
ablest leaders of New England Federalism and the most gifted masters of
Virginian oratory; that they should root up everything in their path,
and end by giving to the whole country the characteristics of their own
common-place existence,--was partly due, not to their energy or their
talents, but to the contempt which their want of genius inspired. Not
their own wisdom, but their antagonists’ errors decided the result,
and overthrew successively Church and State in New England and a
slave-owning oligarchy throughout half the continent. The Southern
gentry could not learn patience. John Randolph, in many respects the
most gifted man produced by the South in his generation, and certainly
the one who most exaggerated the peculiar qualities and faults of his
class, flung away the advantages of every success by attempting to
punish his opponents,--as though the hare had stopped in his race to
beat the tortoise with a whip. Punishment of Pennsylvania Democrats
was waste of time and strength; sarcasm did not affect them; social
contempt did not annihilate them; defeats made no impression upon them.
They had no leaders and no well-defined policy, but they gravitated
like inert weights to an equilibrium. What they wanted they were sure
in the end to get.

Randolph’s disappointment in regard to the slave-bill was but a single
example of a law. After domineering over the House during the whole
session, and impressing his own character upon its acts, he attempted
at the end to coerce it into a quarrel with the Senate. A Bill for
repealing the salt-tax and continuing the Mediterranean Fund was sent
to the Senate, and the Senate sent it back with an amendment which
reduced the duty on salt from twenty cents a bushel to twelve cents,
without wholly abolishing it. Usage and courtesy required that a
committee of conference should be appointed; but Randolph insisted that
the House should abruptly adhere to its original Bill, and he carried
his point by the large majority of ninety-three to twenty.[262] The
Senate accepted the challenge, and in its turn voted to adhere. The
Bill was lost; and while the salt-tax continued in force, producing
some five hundred thousand dollars, the Mediterranean Fund, producing
one million two hundred thousand dollars, must expire by limitation.
Congress reached this point February 26, the same day when the
slave-bill was passed against Randolph’s protest.

The Pennsylvania members allowed themselves to be drawn into this step;
but they had hardly given their votes before waking to their mistake.
The next day a committee was moved to reconsider the subject; and in
spite of Randolph’s remonstrances, the motion was carried by sixty to
forty, every Pennsylvanian changing his vote. Randolph, exasperated to
the last degree, attempted to block the measure by obstinacy. When the
new Bill was taken up in committee of the whole House February 28, he
consumed the day in dilatory motions, calling the yeas and nays until
he could no longer induce one fifth of the members to support him in
asking for them. The House sat until half-past one in the morning;
and when at last the Bill came to a vote, Randolph and his friends
left the House without a quorum.[263] After several counts, a quorum
was reported, and the Bill was passed; but the yeas and nays were
not taken, and many suspicions were expressed that a quorum was not
actually present. Nevertheless the Pennsylvanians won their victory;
the Bill became law at the last moment of the session. Randolph’s
conduct ended in destroying his own influence; and the Pennsylvanians
felt that the time had come when an alliance with the Democrats of New
England against the oligarchy of Virginia could no longer be postponed.

This was the situation at Washington when, on the last day of the Ninth
Congress, a messenger arrived from England bringing from Monroe and
Pinkney a treaty of commerce. The President’s attempt to unite his
party on a liberal domestic policy had not succeeded; and many years
were to pass before Congress should see another session devoted to
domestic affairs.




                             CHAPTER XVI.


WHILE the summer of 1806 was passing in America, carrying
Burr and his insane projects to failure, General Armstrong in Paris
was watching the progress of another adventurer, whose plans were as
dark as those of Burr, but whose genius was of a very different order.
Talleyrand’s mysterious instructions regarding Florida were given to
Armstrong early in September, 1805. Ulm capitulated October 17; the
battle of Trafalgar was fought October 21. Napoleon was thenceforward
master of the Continent, and England of the ocean. December 2 Napoleon
won the decisive battle of Austerlitz, and December 26 he signed the
treaty of Pressburg which humbled Austria.

The wit of man often lagged behind the active movement of the world;
but never had diplomatists a harder task than to keep abreast of
Napoleon. Other men had moments of repose; but Napoleon’s mind seemed
never to rest. His schemes were developed, and swept over Europe like
so many storm-centres. His plans sometimes succeeded and sometimes
failed, but the success or the failure equally implied a greater effort
behind; and while Armstrong and his brother diplomatists speculated
about the Emperor’s motives in pursuing one object, the Emperor was
already devising and using new machinery for gaining another. At the
close of the war with Austria, Armstrong needed to learn whether
Napoleon still wanted money, whether Talleyrand favored the sale of
Florida, whether the treaty of Pressburg had or had not left American
affairs where they were; and none of these questions could be answered
except by Napoleon himself, who was already far advanced in schemes
which no one could fathom, and which largely depended for their success
on the skill with which he could conceal them from Jefferson.

Armstrong could only wait. Through the winter of 1805–1806, while John
Randolph’s opposition delayed Madison’s instructions to the minister at
Paris, Armstrong had nothing to do. The Emperor and Talleyrand returned
to Paris at midnight Jan. 26, 1806. More powerful than ever and more
absolute, Napoleon came back from Vienna rich with the contributions he
had levied in Germany, but angry at the condition into which Marbois
had brought the Treasury of France. Within twelve hours after arriving
at the Tuileries he called a council of his ministers, disgraced
Marbois, and appointed Mollien in his place.

That this revolution in the Cabinet had some bearing upon American
interests was more than likely; for not only was Marbois an honest man
and a warm friend of the United States, but the weight that dragged
him down was nothing less than the weight of Spanish finances. The
story may be shortly told.[264] Napoleon’s wars and repudiation of
every inconvenient debt threw the French mercantile class into general
bankruptcy. In the want of coin to supply the demands of the Emperor
and of the merchants, the Bank of France issued dangerous amounts of
paper money. To support these issues specie had to be obtained; and
the empire which produced specie was Spain. Spain might be forced to
give up her treasures; her arrears of subsidy alone would if paid add
greatly to Marbois’s resources. Yet the treasures of Spain were shut
in Mexico and Peru; they could be brought to Europe only under danger
of capture; and a means by which ten or twenty million Mexican dollars
could run the gauntlet of British cruisers and reach in safety the Bank
of France was a matter of necessity to Marbois.

The ordinary business of the Treasury in discounts and contracts was
conducted through a firm called the “Négociants réunis,” consisting
of three capitalists,--Messrs. Ouvrard, Desprez, and Yanlerberghe.
Ouvrard, the most active of the three, went to Madrid; and by lending
assistance to the sorely pressed Treasury and trade of Spain induced
the Spanish government to give him the privilege of importing bullion
from Mexico at the rate of seventy-five cents on the dollar. The
risk of importation was worth twenty-five per cent on any cargo; but
Ouvrard meant to escape all risk. He had plans of his own, involving
partnership with the British government itself through the Hopes and
Barings of Amsterdam and London; he proposed to draw some five million
dollars from Mexico by giving to the United States government drafts on
South America in settlement of the Spanish spoliations, besides getting
no less than ten million dollars from the United States government for
the Floridas.

The unnamed negotiator who came to Armstrong in September, 1805,
with Talleyrand’s autograph instructions was an agent of Marbois and
Ouvrard, whose errand was doubtless known to the Emperor. Meanwhile the
Treasury, the Bank, and the “Négociants réunis” supported each other by
loans, discounts, and indorsements, largely resting on Spanish bonds,
and made face as well as they could against commercial embarrassments
and Napoleon’s arbitrary calls for great sums of coin; but the
Treasury, being in truth the only solvent member of the partnership,
must ultimately be responsible for the entire loss whenever matters
should come to liquidation.

This was the state of the finances when, Jan. 27, 1806, Napoleon called
Marbois and Ouvrard before him. No one charged criminality on any of
the parties to the affair. In truth one person alone was to blame, and
that person was the Emperor himself; but men who served such masters
were always in the wrong,--and in fact Marbois, Ouvrard, Desprez,
and Vanlerberghe accepted their fate. Marbois was disgraced; while
the three others were obliged to surrender all their property under
the alternative of going to Vincennes, with its memories of the Duc
d’Enghien.

The dismissal of Marbois and the ruin of Ouvrard had no immediate
effect on the Florida negotiation. So far from discouraging Armstrong’s
hopes, they seemed at first likely to bring about some arbitrary
decision, after the Emperor’s well-known style of settling questions in
which he had an interest. In the middle of February Armstrong wrote in
some alarm to Madison:[265]--

   “All the points in controversy between his Catholic Majesty and
   the United States were submitted on the 14th instant to this
   Government by the Spanish ambassador, with an order from his
   Court to solicit the immediate interposition of the Emperor and
   King. That his Majesty will take upon himself the mediation is
   not to be questioned; but the form he may think proper to give
   to it is a point equally doubtful and important. Should this
   movement on the part of Spain have been spontaneous, growing
   merely out of her own policy and feelings, there is reason to
   believe that I may be able to prevent any sudden and unfavorable
   determination from being taken; but if, on the other hand, it
   should have been either dictated or invited by this Cabinet, the
   presumption is strong that the decision is already taken, and
   will present only the alternative,--submission or hostility. Of
   the two conjectures, the latter is the more probable.”

For the moment, while Napoleon was struggling with the confusion of
his finances, he held Florida in reserve as a resource for extremity.
Armstrong was officially or semi-officially told that the Emperor
supposed the whole matter of the Spanish-American dispute to be
regularly before him by consent of both parties.[266] He had another
long interview with his unnamed negotiator, who pressed him to accept
Spanish drafts on South America in payment of the claims for Spanish
spoliations, and who argued with much obstinacy that Florida was well
worth ten million dollars to the United States.

During all this time Armstrong had heard not a word from his
Government. While the minister was listening to these whispers
of imperial policy at Paris, Madison had but begun to write the
long-delayed instructions which were in effect an acceptance of
Talleyrand’s proffered terms. The long-delayed “Two-Million Act”
received the President’s signature Feb. 13, 1806; but not until March
13 did Madison sign the instructions which contained the project of
a convention.[267] This despatch was accompanied by another of March
15, which contained an explanation of the Miranda affair and long
complaints of Yrujo’s conduct. The law prohibiting trade with St.
Domingo, “although it must be understood to have proceeded ... not
from any rightful requisition on the part of France, and still less
from a manner of pressing it which might have justly had a contrary
tendency,” was enclosed in the despatch, with instructions to sound the
French government in the hope of inducing Napoleon to lay aside his
objections to the traffic.

The packet sailed at once; and after a voyage of the usual length
arrived in France in time to bring the despatches, May 1, to
Armstrong’s hands. No apparent change had then taken place in the
Emperor’s plans; but during the three months of labor since his return
from Austria he had succeeded in restoring order to his finances
and was richer than ever before. The Spanish government sent to
Paris a certain Señor Izquierdo as special agent to make a financial
arrangement with Napoleon; and through him much business was done
unknown to the department over which Talleyrand presided. In short
the situation had changed, although no one, even among the Emperor’s
immediate household, knew what had taken place.

In pursuance of the secret memorandum in Talleyrand’s handwriting,
Armstrong, May 1, sent a note to the Foreign Office in the language
of his instructions. Talleyrand acted promptly; May 2 he carried
Armstrong’s note to Napoleon’s closet.[268] Without discussing the
matter the Emperor said: “I have some papers in relation to that
business which you have not seen.” The next day these papers were given
to him. They consisted in maps and charts of the Floridas, with many
arguments to prove their military and naval importance to Spain, and
a formal declaration from Don Carlos IV. that on no account would he
consent to alienate them either by sale or otherwise.

Talleyrand immediately sent for the American minister and told him
what had occurred. Only a few weeks before, with equal appearance of
seriousness, Armstrong had been assured that the whole matter was in
the Emperor’s hands by the request of the Spanish government. May 3
he was suddenly told that King Charles would on no account consent
to alienate Florida. If the first story were true the second must be
false. Armstrong hinted as much. “Though I have not seen the overture
on paper,” said he, “yet I am not the less assured that it had
existence; and if I have not been much deceived, it may at this moment
be found in the portfolio of M. Ouvrard.”

“That may be,” replied Talleyrand; “but it is not the less true that
circumstances have produced an entire change in the dispositions of
Spain.” Then, as though to protect himself from the charge of deception
by making a counter-charge against Armstrong, he suddenly hinted that
Armstrong’s own conduct had much to do with alarming the pride of Spain.

   “Do you know,” said he, “that Mr. Erving has communicated to the
   Prince of Peace the confidential propositions of which you were
   made the depositary last summer, and that they were derived from
   Mr. Bowdoin, as it would appear for the express purpose of being
   so communicated?”

At this unexpected shock, coming instantly after the other, Armstrong
was thunderstruck.

   “You may readily imagine my confusion and astonishment at this
   discovery,” he continued in his narrative to Madison. “I had
   confided the propositions to Mr. Bowdoin under the most solemn
   injunctions of secrecy.... Could I believe that a man to whom
   his country has committed so high an office could so flagrantly
   violate a trust so sacred?”

His anger was diverted from Talleyrand to his colleague; but in spite
of this successful diversion, one might suppose Armstrong capable,
even in anger, of seeing that Talleyrand’s story was not altogether
clear,--that he was trying to distract attention from his own failures.

The more closely Ouvrard’s scheme was brought to light, the more
clearly it seemed to take the form of an intrigue or a job. The
notorious corruption that surrounded Talleyrand explained the favor
shown it by the French Foreign Office; but neither the Emperor of
France nor the King of Spain was ruled in such matters by subordinates,
and Armstrong began to feel the error of making his own Government
the instrument of Ouvrard’s speculations. Too deeply involved to
draw back he took refuge in caution, and said even to the Secretary
of State as little as he could. Above all, he avoided reference to
possible corruption involved in the bargain. His colleague Bowdoin,
whose garrulity had already annoyed him, did not imitate Armstrong’s
reticence, but wrote to the President the facts which Jefferson least
cared to know. The profits on the Louisiana stock, he said,[269] had
stimulated jobbery; fifteen per cent discount on one million seven
hundred and ten thousand dollars had been divided among the individuals
concerned. The two Floridas were offered by Daniel Parker, agent of
the Hopes in Amsterdam, who came with a letter of recommendation from
Labouchere, Sir Francis Baring’s son-in-law, and who held or pretended
to hold powers of transfer from the Prince of Peace. The highest point
to which the propositions could be traced was to one Cazeneau, Parker’s
friend, who lived in Talleyrand’s house. Some time afterward Bowdoin
added[270] that a new negotiator had appeared,--a former private
secretary to Talleyrand,--a M. Dautremont, who came to Skipwith, the
American consul at Paris, and after explaining that the X. Y. Z.
business and the jealousy of the American government had caused much
uneasiness in matters of this delicate nature, suggested that other
means less exposed than money to observation might be devised. He
thought well of land-grants to Talleyrand’s brother, in which Skipwith
might take a share.

With so many different persons and interests involved in the Floridas
and the claims, Armstrong might feel confident that a single rebuff
from the Emperor would not end the matter. After a few weeks Talleyrand
quietly instigated the American minister to renew his request, which
was done by a note of May 25;[271] and May 28 Armstrong received
in reply an official assurance of “his Majesty’s wishes to see the
controversy amicably terminated, and his readiness to lend himself to
that object.” Talleyrand was not only in earnest but in haste; for on
the same day, May 28, he wrote to M. de Vandeul, who was in charge
of the French embassy at Madrid, a cautious letter of instructions.
The United States government, he said,[272] seemed disposed to renew
negotiations with Spain. He ran over the points in dispute, and
sketched the outlines of an arrangement, including the cession of West
Florida.

   “You will have, sir, to express no official opinion on this
   point,” he said. “I need only tell you, in order that you may
   make use of it in your conversations, that this part of the
   Floridas must be warmly desired by the Americans, because it
   closes the mouths of several rivers which have a great part
   of their course within the United States. Under another Power
   Florida, so situated, can intercept American commerce; and since
   the Province is thinly populated and very accessible by land, it
   is to be presumed that the United States would seize the first
   pretext for invasion. If Spain is not bent on preserving this
   colony, she may listen to the American propositions; and all
   that she would have to remark in making this arrangement is that
   West Florida, which brings very little revenue to her, would be
   a much more valuable possession for the United States.”

Vandeul was intimate with G. W. Erving, the American _chargé_
at Madrid; and with friendly zeal he entered into the negotiation.
Taking Talleyrand’s despatch and Armstrong’s note, a copy of which was
inclosed for his guidance, he went to the Prince of Peace, with whom he
had a long conversation June 18, 1806.

   “To tell your Excellency the truth,” he wrote the next day to
   Talleyrand,[273] “I ought to inform you that the Prince of Peace
   appears to me to hold pronounced opinions excessively opposed
   to the conciliatory views which I should have wished to find in
   him. Nevertheless I did my best to bring him to less passionate
   ideas, and asked him whether he did not think it a matter of
   general interest that the old relations should be restored
   between Spain and the United States, even admitting (for this is
   one of the Prince’s allegations) that they were only suspended
   for the moment as to official forms. He answered me that this
   state of things was in no way prejudicial to the interests of
   the two countries; that commerce continued between them under
   the safeguard of reciprocal good faith; and that this mode of
   existence might last a long time without disquieting Spain.”

Vandeul was obliged to urge the Emperor’s wish for a reconciliation
and the advance made by Armstrong at Paris. Thereupon Godoy suddenly
changed his tone. “At bottom,” said he, “we are quite ready to see
where they want to come out; you may assure your Court of that.”
Vandeul thanked him, and added that he hoped the Prince would be
pleased to have the matter negotiated at Paris. “Well, granted again!”
answered Godoy; “I see no inconvenience in consenting to that.” “Your
Excellency authorizes me to inform M. de Talleyrand by my first
despatch?” “By your first despatch.”

Greatly pleased at his success, Vandeul immediately wrote to
Talleyrand. A few days afterward he returned to the Prince of Peace,
and in a long interview undertook to dispose of the whole subject.[274]
Godoy objected chiefly that as yet no official representation had
been made on which the Government of Spain could act. Vandeul urged
that Armstrong’s note and Talleyrand’s instructions were sufficient
proof that the Americans had changed their tone and system. In his
earnestness he insisted upon expressing his opinion on all the points
in dispute, including the cession of West Florida.

   “Then the Prince gave way entirely to the accession that I
   asked; and in a manner that I found not only open, but even
   friendly, told me to renew to you what he had previously
   authorized me to write to you, and to add that ministerial
   measures should decidedly be taken for a suitable expression of
   the intentions of the Spanish Court both to your Highness and to
   the American ministers, with views of conciliation and definite
   arrangement, in the dispute with the United States.”

Vandeul was convinced that the Prince spoke the truth, and he hurried
to tell Erving. The American _chargé_, though far from friendly
to Spain, believed that Godoy was honest; and he hastened to notify
Armstrong. Armstrong had no doubt that all was well, and lost no time
in consulting Talleyrand, who had every motive to feel sure of success.
The Spanish imbroglio seemed on the verge of a friendly settlement.

Suddenly occurred one of the scenes of melodrama to which the Emperor’s
servants were accustomed. When Talleyrand brought Vandeul’s despatch to
his master, Napoleon broke into a passion. Rebuking Talleyrand sharply
for having pressed the matter in its first stages, he threatened to
degrade and punish Vandeul; and he ordered Talleyrand not only to
reprimand his subordinate in the severest manner, but himself to meddle
no more with the subject.[275] His orders were instantly followed
with the blind obedience which marked the Emperor’s service. Vandeul
was still congratulating himself on his success, and waiting for a
letter of approval from Paris, when a despatch arrived which shivered
his diplomatic triumph. Without a word of explanation, Talleyrand
administered the reproof he had been ordered to give. Vandeul was told
that he had gone altogether beyond his instructions:[276]--

   “To cause the negotiations of these two Governments to be
   opened under his Majesty’s eyes would be to associate him in
   all their quarrels and to render him more or less responsible
   for the results. He will see with pleasure the return of a
   good understanding between the two countries; but they alone
   can judge what means of reconciliation suit their respective
   interests.”

A few days afterward came another and sharper reprimand:[277]--

   “In demanding that the negotiation should take place at Paris,
   in making overtures to the United States minister while he has
   not even received instructions from his Government, in leading
   the Prince of Peace to believe that everything would be done
   under the mediation of France,--you exceed the instructions
   marked out for you; and such is the effect of one false step,
   that it inevitably draws others after it before the system
   which has been forsaken can be resumed. That Spain and the
   United States should seek a reconciliation is to be desired;
   but leave to them the opening of negotiation, and take only
   such steps as are marked out for you,--such are his Majesty’s
   orders. The United States and Spain will communicate their
   intentions to each other. You cannot charge yourself with the
   always embarrassing functions of an intermediary without being
   formally authorized to do it; for the Government alone can know
   whether this step is consistent with its interests of the moment
   and with the general plan it has formed for itself.”

That the words of this despatch were taken from the Emperor’s lips
is more than likely. Talleyrand’s notes always repeated as nearly as
possible the exact expressions of his master; and the expressions of
this note were Napoleonic even in their confusion of facts and ideas.
Above all, the concluding sentence, which was probably as mysterious to
Talleyrand as to the Americans, marked the proceeding with the peculiar
stamp of Napoleon’s mind. No one but himself should judge whether the
cession of Florida was “consistent with his interests of the moment
and with the general plan he had formed for himself.” Probably for
the first time, July 12, 1806, Talleyrand learned that Napoleon had
a general plan which was inconsistent with complete reconciliation
between Spain and the United States; yet he could no longer doubt that
the same general plan had controlled the Emperor’s conduct at least as
far back as May 1. From this reticence he might infer that his own fall
approached. Another proof that his credit waned came in a form more
gracious, but not less convincing. Napoleon conferred on him an Italian
principality. The Ex-Bishop of Autun became Prince of Benevento.

Had Armstrong been allowed to know every detail of this transaction,
he could not have penetrated Napoleon’s secret; but for weeks he was
kept in dense ignorance. Aware that the Prince of Peace had consented
to negotiate, informed that Izquierdo had received powers and was
authorized to proceed, Armstrong still found an invisible barrier
across his path,--frivolous difficulties of form and unmeaning
references to Madrid,--which no effort of his could remove. At a hint
from Talleyrand he went to Marshal Duroc, a man of high character and
abilities, who stood as near as the nearest to the Emperor, and who was
conducting with Izquierdo the Spanish negotiations which Napoleon had
taken from Talleyrand. Duroc seemed well disposed toward America; and
through him Armstrong succeeded in putting into Napoleon’s hands the
project of a treaty between the United States and Spain. After reading
it attentively, the Emperor quietly returned it, without a word.

Foiled again by this impenetrable mystery, Armstrong dreamed of forcing
the Emperor’s hand. He could at least, by an official note, compel
Talleyrand and Izquierdo either to act or to explain their inaction;
but from this step he was dissuaded by Talleyrand and Duroc, who
reasoned that precipitancy might do harm, but could do no good.

Meanwhile Talleyrand wrote a despatch[278] to Turreau at Washington;
and if Turreau understood its meaning, his insight was clearer than
that of the Prince of Benevento himself. The tone of this instruction
varied between a caress and a threat; but the threat came last, and was
most significant:--

   “His Majesty would be pained to remark that the United States,
   to whose prosperity France has at all times contributed,--that
   Spain, in whom she takes a like interest,--should revive in
   America quarrels that are beginning to slumber in Europe.
   The United States, which owe their fortune to commerce, are
   interested in peace; they have reason to wish it with their
   neighbors; and if, comparing their force with that of a colony,
   they can promise themselves success at first, they can also
   bear in mind (_reconnaître_) that the colonies are not
   alone, and that Europe has always gone to their aid. Take care,
   sir, to maintain the United States in the views of conciliation
   with which the news of the events of the last campaign may have
   inspired them. A sense of their true interests would suffice
   to make them true to this disposition, even though they had
   not bound themselves to it by the demand they have made on his
   Majesty the Emperor to intervene in their discussions with
   Spain, and to employ his good offices for the re-establishment
   of a perfect harmony between the two Powers. His Majesty,
   without putting himself forward as mediator in circumstances
   where other interests, which directly concern his empire, ought
   to fix his whole attention, will regard whatever the United
   States and Spain may do toward a reconciliation as an evidence
   of friendship toward himself.”

Sept. 25, 1806, the Emperor returned to Germany to begin a war with
Prussia which was to lead him far. His departure put an end to
whatever hopes Armstrong still cherished, while it left the United
States in a mortifying attitude. After having been defied by Spain,
Jefferson found himself deluded by France. No imagination could
conceive the purpose for which Napoleon meant to use the United States
government; but that he had some scheme, to which President Jefferson
must be made subservient, was clear. Armstrong tried in vain to
penetrate the mystery. Whatever it might be, it was as yet hidden in
the recesses of Napoleon’s mind.

No sooner had the Emperor left Paris than the American minister,
September 30, wrote a note of inquiry to Izquierdo, who replied in
substance that his powers had been suspended or recalled. Nothing
remained but for Armstrong to inform the President of all the facts
connected with the failure of his negotiation, and then to wait at
Paris, with what patience he could command, for the moment when
Napoleon should consent to reveal the meaning of these mysterious
manœuvres. Yet in diplomacy as in war, nations were commonly lost
when they allowed Napoleon to take the initiative, and to choose his
own time and place for attack. The United States government had every
reason to be on its guard.

Napoleon reached the battle-field of Jena Oct. 14, 1806, and crushed
the Prussian army. October 27 the conquering French battalions made
a triumphal entry into Berlin. November 25,--the day so frequently
occurring in the story of Burr’s conspiracy, when Jefferson received
General Wilkinson’s despatch, and when Wilkinson himself reached New
Orleans,--the Emperor Napoleon left Berlin for Poland and Russia.
Before leaving Berlin he signed a paper destined to become famous
throughout the world under the name of the Berlin Decree. This
extraordinary mandate, bearing the date of Nov. 21, 1806, began
by charging that England disregarded the law of nations. She made
non-combatants prisoners of war; confiscated private property;
blockaded unfortified harbors and mouths of rivers, and considered
places as blockaded though she had not a single ship before them,--even
whole coasts and empires. This monstrous abuse of the right of blockade
had no other object than to raise the commerce and industry of England
on the ruin of the commerce and industry of the Continent, and gave
a natural right to use against her the same weapons and methods of
warfare. Therefore, until England should recognize and correct these
violations of law, it was decreed--(1) That the British Isles were in a
state of blockade; (2) That all intercourse with them was prohibited;
(3) That every Englishman found within French authority was a prisoner
of war; (4) That all British property, private as well as public, was
prize of war; (5) That all merchandise coming from England was prize of
war; (6) That half the product of such confiscations should be employed
to indemnify merchants whose property had been captured by British
cruisers; (7) That no ship coming from England or her colonies should
be admitted into any port; (8) That every vessel trying to elude this
rule by means of false papers should be confiscated.

This decree, which cut the roots of neutral rights and of American
commerce with Europe, was published at Paris in the “Moniteur” of Dec.
5, 1806. At the same time news arrived that Hamburg, and nearly all
the north coast of Germany along the German Ocean and the Baltic, had
fallen into Napoleon’s hands, or was certain soon to become his prey.
When Armstrong, watching with keen interest the rapid progress of
French arms, took up the “Moniteur” which contained the Berlin Decree,
he might well have started to his feet with the cry that at last he
understood what the Emperor would be at. A part of the enigma which had
perplexed diplomacy was explained, and what was not yet revealed might
vaguely be divined.

December 10 Armstrong wrote to Decrès, the Minister of Marine, to ask
of him, in Talleyrand’s absence, an explanation of the decree. For
some days no answer was received. “Much is said here,” he wrote to
Madison, “of qualifications which are to be given to the _arrêté_
of November 20 [21], and which would indeed make it very harmless; but
these are rather to be hoped for than believed in.” When Decrès’ reply
arrived, dated December 24, it went far to confirm Armstrong’s fears,
by avoiding decisive and official explanation.[279]

   “I consider the imperial decree of the 21st of November last,”
   wrote Decrès, “as thus far conveying no modification of the
   regulations at present observed in France with regard to neutral
   navigators, nor consequently of the convention of Sept. 30,
   1800, with the United States of America; ... but it will be
   proper that your Excellency should communicate with the Minister
   of Exterior Relations as to what concerns the correspondence
   of citizens of the United States with England.... It will
   not escape General Armstrong that my answers cannot have the
   development which they would receive from the Minister of
   Exterior Relations, and that it is naturally to him that he
   ought to address himself for these explanations, which I am very
   happy to give him, because he wishes them, but upon which I have
   much less positive information than the Prince of Benevento.”

With this explanation, such as it was, Armstrong was obliged to content
himself; and the year 1806 closed, leaving President Jefferson at
the mercy of battles soon to be fought in the most distant corner of
Germany, where the Emperor Alexander of Russia was gathering his forces
for a conflict more terrible than Europe had yet seen.




                             CHAPTER XVII.


WHILE Armstrong coped with Napoleon in Paris, Monroe enjoyed
a brief moment of sunshine on the other side of the Channel. After his
diplomatic disasters he might think himself happy, though he only threw
from his own shoulders upon those of Armstrong and Bowdoin the Florida
negotiation which had thus far injured the reputation of every man
connected with it; but he had double cause of rejoicing. He not only
escaped from Talleyrand and Godoy, but also from William Pitt, whose
body he saw carried amidst the pompous mournings of London in funeral
state to Westminster Abbey, and left in solemn grandeur by the side of
his great father. Pitt died Jan. 23, 1806, exhausted by the anxieties
of office.

At last Fortune smiled upon Monroe with caresses more winning than
any she had shown since her last sudden appearance before his eyes
under the outward semblance of Barbé Marbois in Livingston’s garden on
the Boulevard Montmartre. Old King George, knowing no Tory competent
to succeed Pitt or capable of controlling Parliament, summoned Lord
Grenville and submitted to Charles James Fox. Grenville became First
Lord of the Treasury; Fox took charge of the Foreign Office; Erskine
became Lord Chancellor; Sidmouth, Lord Privy Seal. The union of
different party chiefs was so general as to give the Ministry the
nickname of All the Talents. By February 7 the revolution was completed.

Monroe was greatly pleased, as well he might be, for his position
in England had been hitherto far from comfortable. To soothe the
Tories,--who were prejudiced against him not only as American minister,
but also as having when minister to France actively sympathized with
the French Directory in hostility to England,--Monroe had thought
himself obliged to shun the society of the Whigs, and had been
restricted to such social relations as Pitt’s friends would supply,
which under the best of circumstances were neither extensive nor
amusing. Fox made amends for this self-denial. His statesmanship was
broad and liberal, his manners charming, and he had the quality,
most rare in politics, of entire frankness and truthfulness. In a
few days Monroe wrote home that he had enjoyed his first interview
with the new secretary, “who in half an hour put me more at my ease
than I have ever felt with any person in office since I have been in
England.”[280] Fox said little, but held out hopes; and Monroe had so
long been left without even hope to nourish him that he gladly fed
upon the unaccustomed diet. Nevertheless, more than a month passed
before he ventured to make formal application[281] for an order to
suspend the seizure and condemnation of American vessels under the
rule established by Pitt and Sir William Scott. At length, April 17,
at the Queen’s drawing-room Fox took the American minister aside and
announced himself ready to begin negotiation, and to pursue it without
delay till it should be concluded.[282] He said that no trouble need be
feared about the colonial trade, but that there would be objections to
making payments for property already taken; meanwhile the seizures and
condemnations were to be stopped.

The 1st of May arrived. Three months had passed since the new Ministry
took office, yet nothing had been publicly done to satisfy the United
States. The reason was well known. Fox was obliged to overcome many
kinds of opposition both in and out of the Cabinet. The West Indian
colonies, the royal navy, the mercantile shipping interest, the Tory
country gentlemen, and the Court were all opposed to concessions, and
only the Treasury favored them. To increase Fox’s difficulties, news
began to arrive from the United States of the debate in Congress on the
Non-importation Act, of the loose talk of Congressmen and the vaporings
of the press; and to crown all came the story that the mob of New York
had taken the punishment of Pierce’s manslaughter into its own hands.
The English people honestly believed the Americans to be cheating
them in the matter of the colonial trade; they suspected that their
Yankee cousins were shrewd, and they could plainly see that Jefferson
and Congress were trying to hide behind the shadow of Napoleon.
Non-importation and commercial restriction had no other object than to
give England the alternative of surrendering either to France or to
America what she believed to be the price of her existence without the
chance of fighting for it. Two thirds of the British people understood
the Non-importation Act as a threat,--as though the Americans said,
“Surrender to us your commerce and your shipping, or surrender your
liberties to France.”

Whatever were the faults or sins of England, they were at least such
as Americans could understand. Her Government was guided, as a rule,
by interests which were public, permanent, and easily measured. The
weight of interests which had driven Pitt into his assault on American
commerce was not lessened by the death of Pitt or by the return of Lord
Grenville to power. On every side Fox found these interests active
in opposition and earnest in pressing arguments against concession.
Englishmen were used to giving and receiving hard blows. Seldom long
at peace, they had won whatever was theirs by creating a national
character in which personal courage was as marked a quality as
selfishness; for in their situation no other than a somewhat brutal
energy could have secured success. They knew what to think of war, and
could measure with some approach to exactness its probable costs and
returns, but they were quite unused to being conquered by peace; and
they listened with as much contempt as anger to the American theory
that England must surrender at discretion if Americans should refuse
any longer to buy woollen shirts and tin kettles. Englishmen asked only
whether America would fight, and they took some pains to make inquiries
on that point; but it happened that of all the points in question
this, which to Englishmen was alone decisive, could be answered in
a syllable: No! America would not fight. The President, Congress,
the press of both parties in the United States agreed only in this
particular. John Randolph’s speech on Gregg’s Resolution was reprinted
in London with a long preface by James Stephen, and proved conclusively
that America would submit. Merry came as near to a laugh as his gravity
would permit in expressing his contempt for the idea of war, and in
urging his Government to resent the Non-importation Act; and although
Fox probably thought poorly of Merry’s judgment, he could not but show
his despatches to the Cabinet if the Cabinet wished to read them. After
the slaughter of Pierce, when the Federalist newspapers in New York and
the irresponsible mob of seamen clamored for warlike measures, the only
effect of the outcry upon England was to stimulate the anti-American
prejudice and to embarrass the well-meant efforts of Fox, until his
chief newspaper, the “Morning Chronicle,” in a moment of irritation
plainly told the Americans that they were much mistaken if they thought
a war would be so very unpopular in England; and if they knew this,
they would not hector or bully so much. Even the powerful interests
directly engaged in trade with the United States made no attempt to
protect themselves; they did not see that the British nation was ready
and eager to cut its own throat in its desperate anxiety to save its
own life. The contest with France had made all Europe violent and
brutal; but England could boast that at the sound of British cannon the
chaos had become order, that the ocean had been divided from the land,
and as far as the ocean went, that her fleets made law. Two Powers only
remained to be considered by Great Britain,--Russia and the United
States. Napoleon showed an evident intention to take charge of the one;
England thought herself well able to give law to the other.

Against such public inclination toward measures of force Fox struggled
as he could, without united support even in the Cabinet. Men like
Lord Sidmouth were little inclined to risk the fate of the new
Administration by concessions to America; and the Tories, led by
Canning and Spencer Perceval, profited by every English prejudice in
order to recover their control of the government. Fox could carry
his point only by adopting half-measures. Instead of procuring a new
judicial decision or issuing an Order in Council, as had been done in
previous times, for replacing American commerce in its old privileges,
he caused Government to adopt a measure intended to produce the same
effect, but resting on a principle quite as objectionable to Americans
as the Rule of 1756 itself had ever been. May 16, 1806, the ministers
of neutral Powers were notified that the King had ordered a blockade
of the whole French and German coast from Brest to the river Elbe, but
that this blockade was to be strict and rigorous only between Ostend
and the Seine; while elsewhere neutral ships should not be liable to
seizure in entering or leaving the blockaded ports except under the
usual conditions which made them seizable in any case. Under this
blockade an American ship laden in New York with sugar, the product
of French or Spanish colonies, might sail in safety for Amsterdam or
Hamburg. Monroe wrote:[283] “It seems clearly to put an end to further
seizures on the principle which has been heretofore in contestation.”

English statutes, like English law, often showed peculiar ingenuity
in inventing _a posteriori_ methods of reaching their ends; but
no such device could be less satisfactory than that of inventing a
fictitious blockade in order to get rid of a commercial prohibition.
Interminable disputes arose in the course of the next few years in
regard to the objects and legality of this measure, which came to be
known as Fox’s blockade, and as such became a point of honor with
England; but its chief interest was its reflection of the English mind.
To correct a dangerous principle by setting an equally dangerous
precedent; to concede one point by implication, and in doing so to
assert another not less disputed; to admit a right by appearing to deny
it; and to encourage commerce under the pretence of forbidding it,--was
but admitting that the British government aimed at illegitimate
objects. America had always contested the legality of paper blockades
as emphatically as she had contested the Rule of 1756, and could no
more submit to the one than to the other, although in this case the
paper blockade was invented in order to conciliate and satisfy her. The
measure was intended for a temporary expedient pending negotiation;
yet such was the condition of England that Fox’s blockade became six
years afterward one of the chief pretexts under which the two countries
entered upon a war.

Another fortnight elapsed, but Monroe made no further progress.
Whenever he saw Fox the subjects in dispute were discussed; but
news arrived that the Non-importation Act had passed both Houses of
Congress, and the difficulty of obtaining favors was increased by the
attempt at compulsion. Fox showed less and less willingness to concede
principles, although he did not, as Monroe feared, declare that the
Act relieved him from any promises he might have made or from the
fulfilment of any hopes he might have held out. Thus the matter stood,
balanced almost equally between opposite chances, when, May 31, 1806,
news arrived from America that Monroe’s powers were superseded by the
appointment of a special mission, in which he was to be associated
with William Pinkney of Maryland.

The blow to Monroe’s pride was great, and shook his faith in the
friendship of Jefferson and Madison. Three years had elapsed since he
had himself been sent abroad to share Livingston’s negotiations, and
he had the best reason to know how easily the last comer could carry
away the prizes of popularity. The nomination of a colleague warned him
that he had lost influence at home, and that Jefferson, however well
disposed, no longer depended on him. This was in substance the truth;
but other and graver troubles were revealed in part to Monroe’s eyes
when William Pinkney arrived in London June 24, bringing with him the
new instructions which were to become the foundation of the treaty.

These instructions[284] began by treating the Non-importation Act as at
once a domestic and a foreign regulation, a pacific and a hostile act,
a measure with which England had no right to be angry, and one which
was calculated to anger her,--strictly amicable and at the same time
sharply coercive. After this preamble, in which the threat was clearer
than the explanation, followed an order precluding the possibility of
successful negotiation. Monroe was to begin by imposing an ultimatum.
The British government must expressly repudiate the right and forbid
the practice of impressment, or not only could no treaty be made, but
the Non-importation Act should be enforced. “So indispensable is some
adequate provision for the case that the President makes it a necessary
preliminary to any stipulation requiring a repeal of the Act shutting
the market of the United States against certain British manufactures.”

Besides this condition precedent, the instructions prescribed as
another ultimatum the restoration of the trade with enemies’ colonies
on its old foundation and indemnity for the captures made under Sir
William Scott’s late decisions. Three ultimata, therefore, were fixed
as conditions without which no treaty could receive the President’s
assent or procure a repeal of the Non-importation Act. The numerous
requests to be further made upon Fox concerned many different points
in dispute,--contraband, blockade, discriminating duties, immunity of
neutral waters, East and West Indian trade, and trade with Nova Scotia;
but these were matters of bargain, and the two negotiators might to
some extent use discretion in dealing with them. Yet every demand made
by the United States required a corresponding concession from England,
for which no equivalent could be offered by the American negotiators
except the repeal of the Non-importation Act.

Monroe knew that Jefferson had ever strongly opposed any commercial
treaty with Great Britain, and that he never spoke of Jay’s treaty
except with disgust and something like abhorrence. Again and again
Jefferson had said and written that he wished for no treaty; that he
preferred to rely on municipal legislation as his safeguard against
attack; and that he would not part with this weapon in order to obtain
the doubtful protection of an agreement which England could always
interpret to suit herself. Pinkney could add that Jefferson, as
every one in Washington was aware, had been unwillingly driven into
the present negotiation by the Senate, and that as the measure was
not his its success would hardly be within his expectation; that it
would embarrass his relations with Napoleon, endanger if not ruin the
simultaneous negotiation for Florida, and exalt Monroe, the candidate
of Randolph, at the expense of Madison, who was already staggering
under the attacks of his enemies.

Monroe was well informed of the efforts made to raise or to depress his
own fortunes at Washington, and could see how easily his rival, the
Secretary of State, might play a double part. Nothing could be simpler
than such tactics. Madison had only to impose on Monroe the task of
negotiating a treaty under impossible conditions. If the treaty should
fail, the blame would fall upon Monroe; if it should succeed, the
credit would be divided with Pinkney. No one could suppose that Madison
would make any great effort to secure the success of a negotiation when
success might make the negotiator the next President of the United
States.

Monroe could not doubt the President’s coldness toward the treaty; he
could not fail to see that the secretary’s personal wishes were rather
against than for it; and when he studied the instructions he could
not but admit that they were framed, if not with the intention, at all
events with the effect, of making a treaty impossible. No harder task
could well have been imposed than was laid upon Monroe. Not even when
he had been sent to Madrid in defiance of Talleyrand and Godoy, to
impose his own terms on two of the greatest Powers in the world, had
his chance of success been smaller than when his Government required
him to obtain from England, after the battle of Trafalgar, concessions
which England had steadily refused when she was supposed to be drawing
almost her last gasp. For a British ministry to abandon the Rule of
1756 was to challenge opposition; to throw open the colonial trade was
to invite defeat; but to surrender the so-called right of impressment
was to rush upon destruction. No minister that had ever ruled over the
House of Commons could at such a moment have made such a treaty without
losing his place or his head.

If America wanted such concessions she must fight for them, as other
nations had done ever since mankind existed. England, France, and Spain
had for centuries paid for their power with their blood, and could see
no sufficient reason why America should take their hard-won privileges
without a challenge. Jefferson thought otherwise. In his opinion, all
the three Powers would end by conceding American demands, not as a
matter of abstract right but for fear of throwing the United States
into the arms of an enemy. The instructions to Monroe rested on this
idea; and that no doubt might remain, Jefferson wrote to Monroe a
private letter which expressed the doctrine in set terms.

   “No two countries upon earth,” said the President,[285] “ave
   so many points of common interest and friendship; and their
   rulers must be great bunglers indeed if with such dispositions
   they break them asunder. The only rivalry that can arise is on
   the ocean. England may by petty-larceny thwartings check us on
   that element a little; but nothing she can do will retard us
   there one year’s growth. We shall be supported there by other
   nations, and thrown into their scale to make a part of the great
   counterpoise to her navy. If, on the other hand, she is just
   to us, conciliatory, and encourages the sentiment of family
   feelings and conduct, it cannot fail to befriend the security of
   both. We have the seamen and materials for fifty ships of the
   line and half that number of frigates; and were France to give
   us the money and England the dispositions to equip them, they
   would give to England serious proofs of the stock from which
   they are sprung and the school in which they have been taught,
   and added to the efforts of the immensity of sea-coast lately
   united under one Power would leave the state of the ocean no
   longer problematical. Were, on the other hand, England to give
   the money and France the dispositions to place us on the sea in
   all our force, the whole world, out of the continent of Europe,
   might be our joint monopoly. We wish for neither of these
   scenes. We ask for peace and justice from all nations, and we
   will remain uprightly neutral in fact.”

This was masterful not to say dictatorial language; for it came in
support of categorical claims which, however just, were vehemently
opposed by every conservative interest in England. The claims which
Monroe was to make as ultimata could not be conceded by England without
opening the door to claims more sweeping still. In the same breath with
which the President threatened England with fifty ships of the line
in case she would not abjure the right of impressment and the Rule of
1756, he added:--

   “We begin to broach the idea that we consider the whole Gulf
   Stream as of our waters, in which hostilities and cruising
   are to be frowned on for the present, and prohibited as soon
   as either consent or force will permit us. We shall never
   permit another privateer to cruise within it, and shall forbid
   our harbors to national cruisers. This is essential for our
   tranquillity and commerce.”

These were bold words, but not well suited to Monroe’s task or likely
to encourage his hopes. President Jefferson was not only bent upon
forcing England to abandon by treaty the right of impressment and the
control of the colonial trade; he not only asked for liberal favors in
many different directions, which required the whole fabric of British
legislation to be reconstructed, without equivalent on the part of the
United States,--but he had also “begun to broach the idea” that he
should dictate where England’s line-of-battle ships might sail upon
the ocean. Monroe knew how such language would sound to English ears
strained to hear the distant thunders from Trafalgar, and how such
words would look to English eyes, dim with tears, as they watched their
hero borne through the shrouded streets of London to rest in his glory
beneath the dome of St. Paul’s. That England was inflated with her
triumphs, mad in her pretensions, intolerable in her arrogance, was
true. A people that had swept the ocean of enemies and held the winds
and waves for subjects could hardly fail to go mad with the drunkenness
of such stormy grandeur. The meanest beggar in England was glorified
with the faith that his march was o’er the mountain waves and his home
upon the deep; and his face would have purpled with rage at the idea
that Jefferson should dare to say that the squadrons of England must
back their topsails and silence their broadsides when they reached the
edge of the Gulf Stream.

With this picture before his eyes, Monroe could feel no great
confidence either in his own success or in the good faith of the
President’s instructions, which tied him to impossible conditions.
Nevertheless he accepted the task; and as he had gone to Spain with
the certainty of defeat and mortification, he remained in London to
challenge a hopeless contest. As though to destroy his only chance
of success, on the very day of Pinkney’s arrival Fox fell ill. His
complaint was soon known to be dropsical, and his recovery hopeless.
Two months passed, while the American envoys waited the result. Aug.
20, 1806, Fox, being still unable to do business, appointed Lord
Holland and Lord Auckland to carry on the negotiation in his place. No
better men could have been selected. Lord Holland especially, Fox’s
favorite nephew and the most liberal of all Whig noblemen, was warmly
disposed to make the negotiation a success; but much invaluable time
had been lost, and Napoleon was on the eve of Jena.

The negotiation began in earnest August 27, but proved to be long and
arduous. The two British commissioners, though courteous and friendly,
stood in constant fear of the charge that they had surrendered vital
English interests under American threats. They were especially
hampered by the Admiralty, the atmosphere of which, as Lord Holland
complained,[286] made those who breathed it shudder at anything like
concessions to the Americans; while the Treasury, though naturally
still less yielding, listened willingly to every expedient that offered
hope for the revenue. September 1 began the struggle over impressments;
and from the outset Monroe saw that the American claim had no chance
of success, while the case of the West Indian trade was almost equally
desperate. Only one serious discussion had taken place when the death
of Fox, September 13, produced a new delay of several weeks; and on
resuming the negotiation, Monroe and Pinkney were required to deal with
a new Foreign Secretary,--Charles Grey, Lord Howick,--to be better
known in English history as Earl Grey. Such a change boded no good
to the Americans. All Fox’s influence could not counteract the Tory
instincts of Parliament; and what Fox could not do when the Whigs were
strong could much less be done by Lord Howick when the Ministry was
every day tottering to its fall.

November 11 the American negotiators wrote home that they
had decided to disregard their instructions and to abandon
impressments,--accepting, instead of a formal article on the subject,
a note in which the British commissioners pledged their government
to exercise the strictest care not to impress American citizens, and
to afford prompt redress should injury be inflicted while impressing
British seamen. Having thus made up his mind to violate instructions
on the chief point of negotiation, Monroe found nothing to prevent
his doing so in other respects. His progress under William Pinkney’s
influence was rapid; his good nature, in the face of Lord Holland’s
difficult position, was extreme; and at the end of a few weeks, Dec.
31, 1806, Jefferson’s favorite diplomatic agent set his name to a
treaty which, taking its omissions and admissions together, surpassed
Jay’s treaty in outraging Jefferson’s prejudices and express desires.

That a people, like an individual, should for a time choose to accept
a wrong, like impressment or robbery, without forcible resistance
implied no necessary discredit. Every nation at one time or another had
submitted to treatment it disliked and to theories of international
law which it rejected. The United States might go on indefinitely
protesting against belligerent aggressions while submitting to them,
and no permanent evil need result. Yet a treaty was a compromise which
made precedent; it recorded rules of law which could not be again
discarded; and above all, it abandoned protest against wrong. This was
doubtless the reason why Jefferson wished for no treaties in the actual
state of the world; he was not ready to enforce his rights, and he was
not willing to compromise them.

The treaty signed by Monroe and Pinkney Dec. 1, 1806, was remarkable
for combining in one instrument every quality to which Jefferson held
most strenuous objections. The three ultimata were all abandoned;
impressments were set aside under a diplomatic memorandum which
rather recorded the right than restrained its exercise; no indemnity
was obtained for the ravages made on American commerce in 1805; and
in regard to the colonial trade, a compromise was invented which no
self-respecting government could admit. Article XI. of the treaty
imposed the condition that West Indian produce, coming from French or
Spanish colonies, and _bonâ fide_ the property of United States
citizens, might be exported from American ports to Europe on condition
that it should have paid to the United States custom-house a duty
of not less than two per cent _ad valorem_, which could not be
returned in drawback; while European merchandise might in the same way
be reexported from the United States to the West Indies, provided
it paid not less than one per cent _ad valorem_ in duties to
the American Treasury. This provision was only to be compared with
Article XII. of Jay’s treaty, in which Lord Grenville insisted and
Jay agreed that the United States should export no cotton. Even Pitt
had never proposed anything so offensive as the new restriction. He
had indeed required that the American merchant whose ship arrived at
Baltimore or Boston with a cargo of sugar or coffee from Cuba should
unload her, carry the hogsheads and cases into a warehouse, and pass
them through all the forms of the American custom-house; after which
he must turn about and stow them again on shipboard,--an operation
which was usually reckoned as equivalent, in breakage, pilfering, and
wages, to a charge of about ten per cent on the value of the cargo; but
he had not ventured to levy a duty upon them to be paid to the United
States government. One step more, and--as a clever London pamphleteer
suggested--the British government would require the American stevedores
to wear the King’s livery.[287] Had it been stipulated that the
custom-house payments should be taken as full proof of neutrality
and complete protection from seizure, the American merchant might
have found a motive for submitting to the tax; but the treaty further
insisted that both goods and vessel must be in good faith American
property,--a condition which left the door open as widely as ever
to the arbitrary seizures of British cruisers and to the equally
arbitrary decisions of admiralty courts.

   “We flatter ourselves,” wrote Monroe and Pinkney to
   Madison,[288] “that the sum agreed to be paid will not be felt
   as a heavy one by our merchants, whose patriotism will be
   gratified by the recollection that the duty which they pay will
   redound to the advantage of their country.”

Mercantile patriotism was proverbially elastic; yet in the present
instance not so much the merchants’ gratification as that of the
President was to be considered,--and Jefferson’s patriotism could
hardly approve this tax for the protection of British shipping and
produce, which would on the one hand excite the anger of Napoleon,
while on the other it conferred advantages merely during the period of
war. Another objection existed which in Jefferson’s eyes was fatal.
He believed implicitly in the efficacy of commercial restrictions; he
thought the Non-importation Act a better guaranty of good treatment
than the best treaty ever made, and was quite ready to try the
experiment of such a measure against England. Yet Article V. of
Monroe’s treaty pledged him for ten years to abstain from every attempt
to discriminate against British commerce.

The smaller points conceded by Monroe and Pinkney were not less likely
than the greater ones to disturb Jefferson’s temper. The British
commissioners refused to remove the export duty of two and a half per
cent on British manufactures which Americans paid in excess of what
was paid by European consumers. Trade with the British East Indies was
restricted to ships which should sail directly from America and return
directly thither,--a provision less favorable than Jay had secured.
The trade with the British West Indies was a subject so delicate in
Parliament that the two Englishmen refused to touch it, saying that
any sanction of this trade, coupled with their sanction of the neutral
trade with French and Spanish colonies, would endanger the treaty. They
would enter into no arrangement of the trade with Nova Scotia, New
Brunswick, and Canada. They also refused to accept Madison’s ideas in
regard to blockades.

Bad as all this was, and contrary to Madison’s instructions and
Jefferson’s private letters, it was not yet the worst. After Monroe
had violated his orders,--had abandoned the ultimata and accepted
the commercial restrictions which the President disliked,--when the
four commissioners were about to sign the treaty, Monroe and Pinkney
were startled to hear that the two Englishmen meant to append an
explanatory note to their signatures. News of the Berlin Decree had
reached England, and its gravity was at once recognized. The British
negotiators formally notified Monroe and Pinkney that unless the
American government, before ratification, should give security that
it would not recognize the decree, his Majesty George III. would not
consider himself bound by the signatures of his commissioners.[289]
Signature under such a condition seemed rather the act of a suppliant
people than of one which had not yet so much as bought the sword it
should have used. Nevertheless Monroe signed.

Monroe was often called a very dull man. He was said to follow the
influence of those who stood near him, and was charged by different
and opposed politicians with having a genius for blunders; but either
Jefferson or Madison might be excused for suspecting that no man on
whom they implicitly relied could violate instructions, sacrifice the
principles of a lifetime, and throw infinite embarrassments on his
Government without some ulterior motive. They could not be blamed for
suspecting that Monroe, in signing his treaty, thought more of the
Federalist vote than he did of Madison’s political promotion.

Monroe afterward defended his treaty in writings more or less
elaborate, but his most candid account of his diplomacy in these years
was given in a letter to Colonel Taylor of Caroline, written in the
year 1810. Of the British treaty, he said:[290]--

   “The failure of our business with Spain and the knowledge of
   the renewal of the negotiation and the manner of it, which were
   known to every one, were sensibly felt in our concerns with
   England. She was not willing to yield any portion of what she
   called her maritime rights, under the light pressure of the
   non-importation law, to a Power which had no maritime force, not
   even sufficient to protect any one of its ports against a small
   squadron, and which had so recently submitted to great injuries
   and indignities from Powers that had not a single ship at sea.
   Under such circumstances, it seemed to me to be highly for the
   interest of our country and to the credit of our government to
   get out of the general scrape on the best terms we could, and
   with that view to accommodate our differences with the great
   maritime Power on what might be called fair and reasonable
   conditions, if such could be obtained. I had been slighted,
   as I thought, by the Administration in getting no answers to
   my letters for an unusual term, and in being subjected to a
   special mission, nothwithstanding my remonstrance against it on
   a thorough conviction of its inutility, and by other acts which
   I could not but feel; yet believing that my service in England
   would be useful there, and by means thereof give aid to the
   Administration and to the Republican cause at home, I resolved
   to stay, and did stay for those purposes. The treaty was an
   honorable and advantageous adjustment with England. I adopted
   it in the firm belief that it was so, and nothing has since
   occurred to change that opinion.”




                            CHAPTER XVIII.


MONROE was singularly unfortunate in diplomacy. His disasters
came not in any ordinary form of occasional defeat or disappointment,
but in waves and torrents of ill-luck. No diplomatist in American
history, except Monroe and Pinkney, ever signed a treaty in flagrant
contradiction to orders, and at the same time submitted to be told
that the opposite party to the contract reserved a right to break it;
but if any other man had taken such a step it would have answered for
a lifetime, and his mortifications would have ended there. No one
could assume that the British ministry would care to do more, pending
the ratification of its own treaty. Fox’s successor, one of the most
liberal Whig noblemen, having imposed on the United States terms which
would have been hard as the result of war, with the addition that even
these terms were conditional on a declaration of hostilities between
the United States and France, the liberal Whigs might be supposed
willing to wait for some new pretext before publicly tearing their own
treaty to pieces.

If Monroe flattered himself that he had for the moment checked British
aggression, he quickly learned his error. The treaty had been signed
barely a week when a new Order in Council appeared, which surpassed any
belligerent measure of the Tories.[291] Beginning with the premise that
Napoleon’s Berlin Decree “would give to his Majesty an unquestionable
right of retaliation, and would warrant his Majesty in enforcing the
same prohibition of all commerce with France which that Power vainly
hopes to effect against the commerce of his Majesty’s subjects,” the
order added that King George felt himself bound “to retort upon them
the evils of their own injustice,” and therefore “ordered that no
vessel shall be permitted to trade from one port to another, both
which ports shall belong to, or be in the possession of, France or
her allies.” In other words the Whig ministers, ignoring their fresh
treaty with the United States and even the note appended to it,
declared that they would not wait for America to resent the Berlin
Decree, but that United States vessels must in future, as a retort for
that decree, be deprived of the right to sail from one European port
to another. The custom had hitherto prevailed among American shippers
of seeking a market according to ruling prices, partly perhaps at
Bilbao or Bordeaux, partly at some other French or Mediterranean port.
Lord Howick’s order of Jan. 7, 1807, which cut short this coasting
privilege, was a blow to American commerce sharper than the famous
decision of Sir William Scott in the case of the “Essex.” Its apparent
effect was to double the cost and risk of neutral commerce, while
incidentally it asserted a right to prohibit such trade altogether.

Unfortunately more remained behind. The new order was not only an act
of violence; it was, according to the Tories, also one of meanness.
On its face it purported to be a measure of retaliation, taken in
order to retort upon France the evils of Napoleon’s injustice. In the
Parliamentary debate four weeks afterward, when the order was attacked,
all parties argued it as a matter of retaliation. The King’s advocate,
Sir John Nicholls, who defended it, took the ground that for the moment
no severer retaliation was needed; while Spencer Perceval and Lord
Castlereagh held that Napoleon’s decree should have been retaliated in
full.

   “You might turn the provisions of the French decree against
   themselves,” said Perceval;[292] “and as they have said that
   no British goods should sail freely on the seas, you might say
   that no goods should be carried to France except they first
   touched at an English port. They might be forced to be entered
   at the custom-house, and a certain entry imposed, which would
   contribute to advance the price and give a better sale in the
   foreign market to your own commodities.”

Sir John Nicholls replied:[293]--

   “It was not denied that some steps in retaliation were
   necessary; and the question was how far the steps that had been
   taken were adequate.... It was necessary to allow a fair trial
   to what ministers had adopted.”

All this seemed clear and frank; it was equivalent to saying that the
rules of international law were henceforth to be laid aside, and that
the doctrine of retaliation was to be the measure of England’s rights.
Yet this was not the form in which Lord Howick addressed President
Jefferson.

   “His Majesty,” wrote Lord Howick to Erskine,[294] “with that
   forbearance and moderation which have at all times distinguished
   his conduct, has determined for the present to confine himself
   to the exercise of the power given him by his decided naval
   superiority in such a manner only as is authorized by the
   acknowledged principles of the law of nations.”

In Parliament the measure was represented as an extra-legal act,
justified by the illegality of the Berlin Decree. In diplomacy it was
represented as an act “authorized by the acknowledged principles of the
law of nations.” The reason of the self-contradiction was evident. Only
a week before this letter was written, the ministers had concluded a
treaty with the United States involving the rights of neutrals, and had
attached to it a note to the effect that if the United States failed to
resist the Berlin Decree England would acquire the right to retaliate,
but had not hinted that retaliation was intended until the case of
acquiescence should happen. As the matter stood, the British government
had no right to retaliate, but was bound to wait for America to act;
and Lord Howick’s order, from that point of view, could not be defended.

From every other point of view the Order was equally indefensible; and
within a year the Whigs were obliged to take the ground that it was
not an act of retaliation at all, but an application of the Rule of
1756. Strange to say, this assertion was probably true. Unlikely as
it seemed that Earl Grey, Lord Holland, and Lord Grenville could be
parties to a transaction so evasive, their own admissions left no doubt
that Napoleon’s Berlin Decree was the pretext, not the cause, of Lord
Howick’s order; that Lord Howick’s true intention was to go one step
further than Pitt in applying the Rule of 1756 against United States
commerce; that he aimed only at cutting off the neutral trade at one
end of the voyage, as Pitt had cut it off at the other.

This criticism of the Whig ministry was made not so much in America
as in England. The Whigs never offered an intelligible defence. Lord
Grenville and Lord Howick argued at much length in Parliament, but
convinced no one that their argument was sound; even the “Edinburgh
Review” was ashamed of the task, and became unintelligible when
it touched upon this party measure.[295] Whether the conduct of
Lord Grenville’s administration was, as a vigorous Tory pamphleteer
said,[296] a piece of chicanery of which an attorney’s clerk would have
been ashamed, was a matter for English historians to decide. In England
at that day none but a few merchants or Republicans believed in the
honor or honesty of the United States government or people; but in this
instance it was not the honor or honesty of Americans that the English
critics denied: it was, on the contrary, the good faith of their own
most distinguished and most trusted noblemen,--Lord Grenville and Lord
Sidmouth, Earl Grey and Lord Holland, Lord Erskine and Lord Lansdowne,
Lord Ellenborough and Earl Fitzwilliam; and in the light of such
conduct and criticism, Americans could not be greatly blamed if they
refused to admit the ground on which these English gentlemen claimed a
better reputation for truth or honesty than they were willing to allow
Napoleon. Robbery against robbery, the English mode of pillage seemed
on the whole less respectable than the French.

The Whigs were liberal by tradition and instinct; well disposed toward
peace and commerce with all nations, they knew that neutral ships alone
could carry British manufactures to a European market. Every impediment
put in the way of neutral commerce was an additional burden on British
produce; every market closed to neutrals was a market closed to
England. From a Whig point of view Lord Howick’s order violated the
rules of political economy and common-sense; not to be defended or
excused, it equalled in violence the aggressions of Pitt, and in bad
faith rivalled the deceptions of Napoleon. Yet this measure was the
last act of a Ministry more liberal than England was destined to see
again for twenty years. Hardly had Lord Grenville made this concession
to Tory prejudice when the old King, nearly blind and on the verge
of insanity, clinging to his prejudices with the persistence of age,
seized the pretext of some small concession to the Roman Catholics and
turned the Whigs out of his councils. March 26, 1807, Lord Grenville
and Lord Howick announced to the two Houses of Parliament their
dismissal from office.

If the friendly Whigs, after imposing on the United States such a
treaty, had thought themselves still obliged to lop off another main
limb of American commerce, which Pitt had spared, the Tories were not
likely to rest until they had put an end to American neutral commerce
altogether. This result was foreshadowed by Spencer Perceval and Lord
Castlereagh in their speeches on Lord Howick’s order, and was the end
to which the legislation and public opinion of England had pointed for
years. The time for negotiation had gone by, and nothing remained for
the United States but a trial of strength.

For this final test Jefferson was ready. Congress had placed in his
hands powers which in his opinion were ample to protect American
interests abroad and at home. On sufficient provocation he could
exclude British ships-of-war from American waters, and if they should
refuse to depart he might enforce the Non-importation Act against
British commerce. His conduct proved that he felt neither fear nor
hesitation. He had never expected a satisfactory treaty from England,
and he had good reason to know that Monroe’s treaty, if Monroe should
succeed in making one, must be worse than none. Early in February,
1807, arrived the despatch from Monroe and Pinkney announcing that the
two envoys had decided to depart from their instructions and to abandon
the impressment ultimatum. Madison replied,[297] February 3, that no
such treaty would be ratified, and that it would be better to let the
negotiation quietly terminate, leaving each party to follow an informal
understanding; but that if such a treaty should have been signed, the
British commissioners should be candidly apprised of the reasons for
not expecting its ratification. That Monroe’s treaty, if he made one,
would be rejected and returned without ratification to the British
government was certain long before it reached America.

On that point, as on the inflexibility of England, no doubt could
exist. President Jefferson and Secretary Madison were as determined, in
case of necessity, to attack British manufactures as Spencer Perceval
and George Rose were bent upon cutting off American trade; but although
the Americans fully meant to use commercial weapons against British
aggression, they earnestly wished for a good working arrangement under
which, without a treaty, peace and commerce could be secure. So far
from challenging a rupture, they were anxious only to encourage cordial
relations. Throughout the winter of 1806–1807 Jefferson made of his
attachment to England a foundation for all his policy at home and
abroad. Congress, under the security of Fox’s friendship, left foreign
affairs alone, and quarrelled only about domestic matters; while
General Turreau’s temper was made more irritable by the attentions
lavished upon David Montague Erskine, the new British minister, who,
Nov. 4, 1806, put an end to the adventures of Merry at Washington, and
began the easy task of winning popularity.

The winter of 1805–1806 had been favorable to Turreau, who saw France
control American policy toward Spain and St. Domingo; while a stringent
Act of Congress prohibiting the importation of British manufactures
brought within his sight the chief object of French diplomacy in
America,--a war between the United States and England. The winter of
1806–1807 promised to undo this good work, and even to bring the United
States to the verge of war with France. The first measure recommended
by the President and adopted by Congress--the suspension of the
Non-importation Act--annoyed Turreau. Monroe’s treaty was signed in
London December 1; at Washington Turreau wrote, December 12,[298] soon
after Congress met,--

   “If I am to judge by the talk and countenances of the great
   people, this Congress will be more favorable to England than
   the last was; and already its leader, under the President’s own
   invitation, shows a benevolent disposition toward the British
   government. I had the honor to see Mr. Jefferson the evening
   before Congress met, and to say to him, on the subject of
   Spanish differences, that probably all the negotiations entered
   into by the Government with that Power, as well as with England,
   would succeed. ‘Really,’ replied the President, ‘I have reason
   to think that the English are going to make an arrangement with
   us, and that it would be already done if Mr. Fox’s death had
   not interrupted negotiation. Perhaps we shall even obtain,’ he
   added, ‘the right to extend our maritime jurisdiction, and to
   carry it as far as the effect of the Gulf Stream makes itself
   felt,--which would be very advantageous both to belligerents and
   to neutrals.’”

To persons who knew that Jefferson was then angry with Napoleon for
his faithless conduct in preventing the new Florida negotiation, this
assurance of English friendship gave a measure of the President’s
diplomacy. He was willing to irritate and alarm the French minister,
and he succeeded. Turreau took refuge in speculations and sharp
criticisms:--

   “I know not whether to attribute this first effect of pronounced
   favor in regard to England to the last despatches of the two
   envoys negotiating at London, or to the first overtures of
   Mr. Erskine, who arrived here a few days ago, and with whom
   they seem already infatuated (_très engoué_); ... or,
   finally, whether it may not be the result of some hints from
   Alexander,--for whom the Federal government, and particularly
   Mr. Jefferson, have an admiration which borders on delirium. And
   your Excellency may recall that last spring the President talked
   of making overtures to the Russian sovereign relative to a plan
   of unarmed maritime confederation, which was then his great
   object, and which, as he assured me in our last interview, he
   has not given up,--making, as his custom is, a grand eulogium of
   Alexander and his savages.”

Madison, even in prosperous times never a favorite with General
Turreau, managed as usual to draw upon himself the chief weight of
diplomatic suspicion and wrath.

   “The unexpected change in the views of the Federal government,”
   continued Turreau, “is such that the secretary’s bearing toward
   me is deranged by it. Not that he has renounced his system of
   attentions (_prévenances_) toward the minister of France,
   whom he does not love, and whom, as I have unfortunately good
   reason to know, he distrusts; not that he has weakened his
   protestations, reiterated to satiety, of personal attachment
   to the interests of France, and of the Government’s constant
   wish to maintain and strengthen the friendly relations which
   unite it with that Power,--but the Secretary of State has
   forgotten that at the beginning of this year [1806], and
   particularly after the event of Austerlitz, the only subject
   of our private conversations was complaint of England, and the
   fixed resolution of the Federal government to stop the course of
   her wrongs either by repression or reprisals. He has forgotten
   that the steps taken by the Executive to obtain from Congress
   the famous Non-importation Bill, now suspended, were so marked
   and ill-concealed that John Randolph called attention to them,
   and flung severe, or rather humiliating, taunts at the agents
   of ministerial influence. Now Mr. Madison no longer talks to
   me about England; he tries to keep out of our conversations
   whatever relates to that Power, and far from making complaints
   of her, the Federal government ‘has to congratulate itself
   that the ministry of Mr. Fox, though unfortunately too short,
   has nevertheless sufficed to bring the Cabinet of St. James to
   moderate sentiments.’”

Neither Jefferson nor Madison took direct notice of Napoleon’s conduct
in regard to Florida, but they led Turreau to think that England was
their favorite; and Turreau’s dislike of America and Americans became
in consequence more decided. He hoped for Burr’s success in order to
relieve the pressure upon him:[299]--

   “It seems to me that Burr’s success cannot be contrary to the
   interests of France, although I am convinced that England will
   favor him,--doubtless with other hopes; but if we had to-day
   the Floridas, the importance of which I have felt it my duty to
   recall to you, I think I can guarantee that New Orleans would
   be ours if we only showed a wish for it. All reports, and I have
   had such, both official and positive, agree as to the regrets
   expressed by the great majority of inhabitants at not living
   under French rule.”

In the middle of February, at a moment when Americans expected daily
the arrival of a British treaty marked by generous concessions,
Napoleon’s Berlin Decree reached the United States. Commerce was
instantly paralyzed, and merchants, Congressmen, Cabinet, and President
turned to Turreau anxiously inquiring what was meant by this blockade
of the British Islands by a Power which could not keep so much as a
frigate at sea. Turreau could give them no answer. “Your Excellency
will readily believe,” he wrote home,[300] “that this circumstance
does not put us in a better position here.” The influence of France
in the United States was never lower than at the moment when England
turned Lord Grenville and Lord Erskine out of power, in order to
install Spencer Perceval and Lord Eldon at the head of a Tory reaction.
Jefferson’s objections to a British treaty would have had no weight
with the Senate if the treaty had been tolerable; the Berlin Decree
and the Emperor’s conduct in regard to Florida would have reconciled
Madison to almost any British alliance. Turreau was so well aware of
the danger that he exerted himself in remonstrances and semi-threats,
and told[301] one member of the Cabinet after another that “at a
moment when Europe, leagued together against the maritime tyranny
of England, was laboring to throw off the yoke of that Power and to
secure for all navigating nations freedom of commerce and the seas,” it
was particularly improper for the United States to accept any treaty
which did not expressly secure all disputed points, and that no treaty
would be observed by England unless made under the auspices and by the
guaranty of Napoleon.

In view of the recent fate that had overtaken Powers like Switzerland
and Venice, which had put themselves under the auspices of Napoleon,
this argument produced no conviction. Turreau might better have left
to the English the task of repairing Napoleon’s mistakes; but these
mistakes had accumulated until it depended upon England alone whether
the United States should join her in the war. Not only had the Emperor
offended Jefferson and Madison by his peremptory stoppage of the
Florida purchase,--he had also declared war upon American commerce in a
decree which Jefferson and Madison could not but suspect to be in some
mysterious way connected with his sudden change of front toward Spain
and Florida; while in the face of these difficulties he left his own
minister at Washington in such discredit that Turreau was reduced to
beg sixty thousand dollars from the American Treasury to meet consular
expenditures at a moment when he should have been pressing complaints
about the frigate “Impétueux,” destroyed by the English within American
jurisdiction, and when he should have been threatening the most fatal
consequences if President Jefferson should sign any treaty whatever
with England.[302]

In this temper all parties waited for the news from England, which
could not long be delayed; until March 3, 1807, the last day of the
session, a rumor reached the Capitol that a messenger had arrived at
the British legation with a copy of the treaty negotiated by Pinkney
and Monroe. The news was true. No sooner did Erskine receive the treaty
than he hurried with it to Madison, “in hopes that he would be induced
to persuade the President either to detain the Senate, which he has
the power by the Constitution to do, or to give them notice that he
should convene them again.” Unlike Merry, Erskine was anxious for a
reconciliation between England and America; he tried honestly and
over-zealously to bring the two governments into accord, but he found
Madison not nearly so earnest as himself:

   “The first question he asked was, what had been determined on
   the point of impressment of seamen, claimed as British, out of
   American ships; and when I informed him that I had not perceived
   anything that directly referred to that question in any of the
   Articles of the copy of the treaty which I had received, he
   expressed the greatest astonishment and disappointment....
   The note which was delivered in to the American commissioners,
   previous to the signature of the treaty, by Lords Holland
   and Auckland, relative to Bonaparte’s decree of November 21,
   particularly attracted his attention; and he observed that
   the note itself would have prevented, he was convinced, the
   ratification of the treaty, even if all the Articles of it had
   been satisfactory, and all the points settled upon the terms
   that had been required by their commissioners.”[303]

At ten o’clock the same night the two Houses of Congress, when ready
to adjourn, sent a joint committee to wait upon the President, who
was unwell, and unable to go as usual to the Capitol. Dr. Mitchill,
the senator from New York, a member of this committee, asked the
President whether there would be a call of the Senate to consider the
treaty.[304] “Certainly not,” replied Jefferson; and he added that “the
only way he could account for our ministers having signed such a treaty
under such circumstances was by supposing that in the first panic of
the French imperial decree they had supposed a war to be inevitable,
and that America must make common cause with England. He should,
however, continue amicable relations with England, and continue the
suspension of the Non-importation Act.”

The senators received this rebuff with ill-concealed annoyance.
Jefferson’s act in refusing to consult them about a matter so
important as a British treaty--and one which from the first had been
their own rather than the President’s scheme--was another instance of
the boldness which sometimes contradicted the theory that Jefferson
was a timid man. To ordinary minds it seemed clear that the President
needed support; that he could not afford single-handed to defy England
and France; that the circle of foreign enemies was narrowing about
him; and that to suppress of his own will a treaty on which peace and
war might depend, exposed him to responsibilities under which he might
be crushed. Although the treaty was not yet published, enough had
been said to make senators extremely curious about its contents; and
they were not pleased to learn that the President meant to tell them
nothing, and cared too little for their opinion to ask it. Of all the
senators the most formidable intriguer was Samuel Smith of Maryland,
who wrote the next day confidentially to Wilson Cary Nicholas a letter
full of the fresh impressions which gave life to Smith’s private
language:[305]

   “A copy of the treaty arrived last evening. The President is
   angry with it, and to Dr. Mitchill and Mr. Adams (who carried
   the last message) expressed his anger in strong, very strong
   terms, telling in broad language the cause of his wrath. He
   requested the doctor to tell the senators his objections. If
   the doctor repeated correctly, then I must be permitted to
   think there was not a little of the heightening. He said the
   President was at present determined to send the original back
   the moment it shall be received, without submitting it to the
   Senate. He was sick, it is true,--vexed and worried; he may
   think better of it, for Madison (expecting less than he had)
   differs with him as to calling the Senate, and R[obert] S[mith]
   concurs in opinion with M[adison].... I stopped here, and I have
   seen the President and Mr. M[adison]. It seems the impressment
   of seamen was a _sine qua non_ in the instructions. The
   P[resident] speaks positively that, without full and formal
   satisfaction shall be made thereupon, he will return the treaty
   without consulting the Senate; and yet he admits the treaty,
   so far as to all the other points, might be acceptable,--nay,
   that there are but few exceptions to it in his mind. I fancy
   the merchants would be perfectly pleased therewith. If then in
   all other points it would please, will the responsibility not
   be very great on him should he send it back without consulting
   the Senate? M[adison] in answer to this query said, ‘But if he
   is determined not to accept, even should the Senate advise,
   why call the Senate together?’ I could give no answer to this
   question. If by his unusual conduct the British continue or
   increase their depredations (which he cannot prevent), what
   will be the outcry? _You_ may advise him. He stumped us by
   his positive manner.... Will not M[onroe] and P[inkney] both
   conceive themselves insulted, and return to make war on the
   Administration? The whole subject ought, I conceive, to have
   been treated as one of great delicacy.”

In another letter, written the same day, General Smith rehearsed the
story in a few words, which proved that Smith had a full share of the
shrewdness that was lacking in Jefferson. He saw the future as clearly
as politicians often saw what philosophers overlooked; but his jealousy
of Jefferson appeared in every word:[306]--

   “The Senate, agreeably to the first construction (given by
   General Washington and his Administration, of which Jefferson
   was one,--given, too, immediately after the knowledge of what
   was the intention of the convention that framed it), did
   _unanimously_ advise the President to negotiate a treaty
   with Great Britain. The Senate agreed to his nomination of the
   negotiators. A treaty was effected. It arrives. It is well known
   that he was _coerced_ by the Senate to the measure; and he
   refuses to submit it to their approbation. What a responsibility
   he takes! By sending it back he disgraces his ministers,
   _and Monroe is one_. Monroe and Pinkney come home, and in
   justification publish the treaty. It may appear good to the
   eyes of all unprejudiced men,--I suspect it will. By a refusal
   to accede to it the British continue their depredations, to the
   amount perhaps of their whole system of ‘You shall not trade
   in time of war where you are refused in time of peace;’ the
   impressment is carried to an excess bounded only by their power;
   immense losses are sustained; a general outcry will ensue; all
   will say, ‘If Monroe’s treaty had succeeded, those losses would
   not have happened; why was it refused?’ Jealousy of Monroe,
   and unreasonable antipathy by Jefferson and Madison to Great
   Britain!--this will be said, this will be believed. And Monroe
   will be brought forward; new parties will arise, and those
   adverse politically will be brought together by interest....
   Shall we put all to jeopardy because we have not got all we
   ask? Will we go to war? No! What will we do to coerce? More
   non-importation. Will Congress under such circumstances consent
   to continue their non-importation? I suspect not; I cannot
   believe they will. Then where shall we be? J. Randolph will take
   his stand and ask, ‘Shall we hazard everything for a set of men
   who, etc.? What, put the landed interest to such inconvenience!
   The fair merchant is satisfied; the country is flourishing,’
   etc. But I have not time to make a speech. Monroe will be called
   a martyr, and the martyr will be the President. And why? Because
   he has done right, and his opponent has advised wrong. The
   people care little or nothing about the seamen.”

The more closely the subject was studied the more clearly it
appeared that Monroe had to all appearance knowingly embarrassed the
Administration by signing a treaty in contravention of the President’s
orders; but Jefferson added unnecessarily to his embarrassment
by refusing the treaty before he read it. Tacit abandonment of
impressments was the utmost concession that the President could
hope from England, and even this he must probably fight for; yet he
refused to consult the Senate on the merits of Monroe’s treaty for a
reason which would have caused the withholding of every treaty ever
made with England. That the public should be satisfied with this
imperious treatment was an extravagant demand. No act of Jefferson’s
administration exposed him to more misinterpretation, or more
stimulated a belief in his hatred of England and of commerce, than his
refusal to lay Monroe’s treaty before the Senate.

Perhaps the President would have been less decided had he known at
first how faulty the treaty was. Not until it had been studied for
weeks did all its faults become evident; and not until it was read in
the light of Lord Howick’s Order in Council did its character admit of
no more doubt. When news of this order reached Washington, about ten
days after the treaty, Madison wrote to Erskine a letter[307] which
showed an effort to treat the new restriction of neutral trade as
though it might have some shadow of legality in the background, and as
though it were not directed solely against America; but the truth soon
became too evident for such mild treatment, and Madison was obliged ten
days afterward to interrupt his study of Monroe’s treaty in order to
tell Erskine that the operation of the new order “would be a proceeding
as ruinous to our commerce as contrary to our essential rights.”[308]

To Monroe the President wrote with the utmost forbearance and
kindness.[309] Instead of reproaching, Jefferson soothed the irritation
of his old friend, contradicted newspaper reports which were calculated
to wound Monroe’s feelings, and pressed upon him the government of
New Orleans Territory: “It is the second office in the United States
in importance, and I am still in hopes you will accept it; it is
impossible to let you stay at home while the public has so much need
of talents.” I regard to the treaty he said little; but what he did
say was more severe than any criticism yet made to others. “depend
on it, my dear Sir, that it will be considered as a hard treaty when
it is known. The British commissioners appear to have screwed every
Article as far as it would bear,--to have taken everything and yielded
nothing.” He urged Monroe, if nothing better could be got, “to back out
of the negotiation” as well as he could, letting it die insensibly,
and substituting some informal agreement until a more yielding temper
should rise. Next the President wrote privately to Bowdoin, his
wandering minister to Spain, to whom Armstrong had shut the doors of
the legation at Paris for betraying its secrets, and who in return was
abusing Armstrong with recriminations. If a quarrel should arise with
England, it might at least be made to bring Florida again within reach.

   “I have but little expectation,” wrote the President to
   Bowdoin,[310] “that the British government will retire from
   their habitual wrongs in the impressment of our seamen, and
   am certain that without that we will never tie up our hands
   by treaty from the right of passing a non-importation or
   non-intercourse Act to make it her interest to become just.
   This may bring on a war of commercial restrictions. To show,
   however, the sincerity of our desire for conciliation, I have
   suspended the Non-importation Act. This state of things should
   be understood at Paris, and every effort used on your part to
   accommodate our differences with Spain under the auspices of
   France, with whom it is all important that we should stand in
   terms of the strictest cordiality. In fact we are to depend
   on her and Russia for the establishment of neutral rights by
   the treaty, of peace, among which should be that of taking no
   persons by a belligerent out of a neutral ship, unless they be
   the soldiers of an enemy. Never did a nation act toward another
   with more perfidy and injustice than Spain has constantly
   practised against us; and if we have kept our hands off of her
   till now, it has been purely out of respect to France, and
   from the value we set on the friendship of France. We expect,
   therefore, from the friendship of the Emperor that he will
   either compel Spain to do us justice or abandon her to us. We
   ask but one month to be in possession of the city of Mexico.”

In reality Jefferson needed somewhat more than a month to be
in possession of Mexico, although the Spaniards might without
much difficulty have reached New Orleans in less time. Had the
Federalist press been able to print the letter to Bowdoin, with its
semi-admissions of intent to wage a commercial war against England in
dependence upon Napoleon in order to gain the Floridas, the scandal
would have been as great as that caused by the famous letters to
Mazzei and Paine; but in truth this flighty talk had no influence or
importance, and the time was close at hand when Jefferson was to become
helpless. Between the will of England and France on one side and the
fixed theories of Virginia and Pennsylvania on the other, Jefferson’s
freedom of action disappeared.

Madison, who rarely accepted either horn of a dilemma with much
rapidity, labored over new instructions to Monroe which were to make
the treaty tolerable, and called Gallatin and General Smith to his aid,
with no other result than to uncover new and insuperable difficulties.
April 20 he wrote to Jefferson at Monticello:[311]--

   “The shape to be given to the instructions to our commissioners
   becomes more and more perplexing. I begin to suspect that it may
   eventually be necessary to limit the treaty to the subject of
   impressments, leaving the colonial trade, with other objects,
   to their own course and to the influence which our reserved
   power over our imports may have on that course. In practice
   the colonial trade and everything else would probably be more
   favored than they are by the Articles forwarded, or would be by
   any remodifications to be expected. The case of impressments
   is more urgent. Something seems essential to be done, nor is
   anything likely to be done without carrying fresh matter in
   the negotiation. I am preparing an overture to disuse British
   seamen, in the form of an ultimatum, graduated from an exception
   of those who have been two years in our navigation to no
   exception at all other than such as have been naturalized.”

A few days later news arrived that the Whigs had been driven from
office, and a high Tory ministry had come into power. Madison was more
than ever perplexed, but did not throw aside his treaty.

   “A late arrival from London,” he wrote again,[312] April 24,
   “presents a very unexpected scene at St. James’s. Should the
   revolution stated actually take place in the Cabinet, it will
   subject our affairs there to new calculations. On one hand the
   principles and dispositions of the new Ministry portend the most
   unfriendly course. On the other hand, their feeble and tottering
   situation and the force of their ousted rivals, who will
   probably be more explicit in maintaining the value of a good
   understanding with this country, cannot fail to inspire caution.
   It may happen also that the new Cabinet will be less averse to
   a _tabula rasa_ for a new adjustment than those who formed
   the instrument to be superseded.”

Jefferson’s reply to these suggestions showed no anxiety except the
haunting fear of a treaty,--a fear which to Monroe’s eyes could have
no foundation. “I am more and more convinced,” the President wrote
April 21,[313] “that our best course is to let the negotiation take a
friendly nap;” and May 1 he added:[314] “I know few of the characters
of the new British Administration. The few I know are true Pittites and
anti-American. From them we have nothing to hope but that they will
readily let us back out.” In view of George Canning’s character and
antecedents and of Spencer Perceval’s speeches, Jefferson’s desire to
be allowed to back out of his treaty was superfluous. That Canning and
Perceval would make any effort to hold him to his bargain was quite
unlikely, but that they would let him back out was still more so. They
had in view more expeditious ways of ejecting him.

Nevertheless Madison was allowed to perfect his new instructions to
Monroe and Pinkney. May 20 they were signed and sent. Before they
reached London a British frigate had answered them in tones which left
little chance for discussion.




                             CHAPTER XIX.


MARCH 30, 1807, in a room at the Eagle Tavern in Richmond,
Aaron Burr was brought before Chief-Justice Marshall for examination
and commitment. Although Burr had been but a few days in the town,
he was already treated by many persons as though he had conferred
honor upon his country. Throughout the United States the Federalists,
who formed almost the whole of fashionable society, affected to
disbelieve in the conspiracy, and ridiculed Jefferson’s sudden fears.
The Democrats had never been able to persuade themselves that the
Union was really in danger, or that Burr’s projects, whatever they
were, had a chance of success; and in truth Burr’s conspiracy, like
that of Pickering and Griswold, had no deep roots in society, but was
mostly confined to a circle of well-born, well-bred, and well-educated
individuals, whose want of moral sense was one more proof that the
moral instinct had little to do with social distinctions. In the case
of Burr, Jefferson himself had persistently ignored danger; and no one
denied that if danger ever existed, it had passed. Burr was fighting
for his life against the power of an encroaching government; and human
nature was too simply organized to think of abstract justice or remote
principles when watching the weak fight for life against the strong.
Even the Democrats were more curious to see Burr than to hang him; and
had he gone to the gallows, he would have gone as a hero, like Captain
Macheath amidst the admiring crowds of London.

Between Captain Macheath and Colonel Burr was more than one point of
resemblance, and the “Beggar’s Opera” could have been easily paralleled
within the prison at Richmond; but no part of Burr’s career was more
humorous than the gravity with which he took an injured tone, and
maintained with success that Jefferson, being a trivial person, had
been deceived by the stories of Eaton and Wilkinson, until, under the
influence of causeless alarm, he had permitted a wanton violation of
right. From the first step toward commitment, March 30, to the last day
of the tedious trials, October 20, Burr and his counsel never ceased
their effort to convict Jefferson; until the acquittal of Burr began
to seem a matter of secondary importance compared with the President’s
discomfiture.

Over this tournament the chief-justice presided as arbiter.
Blennerhassett’s island, where the overt act of treason was charged to
have taken place, lay within the chief-justice’s circuit. According as
he might lean toward the accused or toward the government, he would
decide the result; and therefore his leanings were a matter of deep
interest. That he held Federalist prejudices and nourished a personal
dislike to Jefferson was notorious; but apart from political feelings
he had given no clew to his probable legal bias except in his recent
decision upon the case of Bollman and Swartwout. In discharging these
two agents of Burr on the ground that no overt act of levying war was
alleged against them, Marshall had taken occasion to define the law of
treason as a guide to the attorney-general in the coming indictment of
Burr:--

   “It is not the intention of the Court to say that no individual
   can be guilty of this crime who has not appeared in arms against
   his country. On the contrary, if war be actually levied,--that
   is, if a body of men be actually assembled for the purpose of
   effecting by force a treasonable purpose,--all those who perform
   any part, however minute, or however remote from the scene of
   action, and who are actually leagued in the general conspiracy,
   are to be considered as traitors. But there must be an actual
   assembling of men for the treasonable purpose, to constitute a
   levying of war.”

On the strength of this opinion, the attorney-general undertook to
convict Burr of treason for the acts committed under his direction at
Blennerhassett’s island, although at the time when these acts were
committed Burr himself was in Kentucky, two hundred miles away.

The task was difficult, and Burr’s experience as a lawyer enabled
him to make it more difficult still. He retained the ablest counsel
at the bar. First of these was Edmund Randolph, prominent among the
older Virginia lawyers, who had been attorney-general and Secretary of
State in President Washington’s Cabinet. Edmund Randolph’s style of
address was ponderous, and not always happy; to balance its defects
Burr employed the services of John Wickham, another Virginian, whose
versatility and wit were remarkable. A third Virginian, Benjamin Botts,
was brought into the case, and proved a valuable ally. Finally Luther
Martin was summoned from Baltimore; and Martin’s whole heart was with
his client. In defending Justice Chase, Luther Martin had made a
great name; but hatred for the Democrats and their President became a
secondary passion in his breast. His zeal for Burr was doubled by a
sudden idolatry which the sexagenarian conceived for Burr’s daughter
Theodosia, who came to her father’s side at Richmond.

The government was represented by no one of equal force with these
opponents. John Breckinridge, the Attorney-General of the United
States, died in December, 1806. Jan. 20, 1807, President Jefferson
appointed Cæsar A. Rodney to the post. Although Rodney’s abilities were
respectable, he could hardly have wished to be confronted at once by
the most important and difficult State prosecution ever tried under
Executive authority. Rodney’s duties or his health prevented him from
attendance. He barely appeared at Richmond in the preliminaries, and
then left the case in the hands of the district-attorney, George Hay,
who took his orders directly from Jefferson, with whom he was in active
correspondence. To assist Hay the President engaged the services of
William Wirt, then thirty-five years old, and promising to become an
ornament to the bar; but in the profession of the law age gave weight,
and Wirt, though popular, conscientious, admired, and brilliant in
a florid style of oratory, suffered as a lawyer from his youth and
his reputation as an orator. He was hardly more capable than Hay of
conducting a case which drew upon every resource of personal authority.
The third counsel, Alexander McRae, Lieutenant-Governor of Virginia,
was inferior both in ability and in tact to either of his associates.
His temper irritated Hay and offended the Court, while his arguments
added little strength to the prosecution.

The first object of the government was to commit Burr for trial
on the charge of treason as well as of misdemeanor; but Marshall
promptly checked all hopes of obtaining aid from the court. April 1
the chief-justice delivered an opinion on the question of commitment,
and took that opportunity to give the district-attorney a warning.
Declining to commit Burr for treason without evidence stronger than the
affidavits of Eaton and Wilkinson, Marshall blamed the Executive with
asperity for neglect of duty in providing proof of treason:--

   “Several months have elapsed since this fact did occur, if
   it ever occurred. More than five weeks have elapsed since
   the opinion of the Supreme Court has declared the necessity
   of proving the fact if it exists. Why is it not proved? To
   the Executive government is intrusted the important power of
   prosecuting those whose crimes may disturb the public repose or
   endanger its safety. It would be easy in much less time than has
   intervened since Colonel Burr has been alleged to have assembled
   his troops, to procure affidavits establishing the fact.”

Accordingly Burr was committed only for misdemeanor, and five
securities immediately offered themselves on his behalf. At three
o’clock on the afternoon of April 1 he was again at liberty, under
bonds for ten thousand dollars to appear at the next circuit court, May
22, at Richmond.

Marshall’s reproof of Executive slowness was not altogether respectful
to the co-ordinate branch of government. No doubt treasonable
assemblages had taken place in December, and affidavits could have
been brought from Marietta or Nashville within six or eight weeks had
the government known precisely what would be needed, or where the
evidence was to go; but no judge could reasonably require that the
Executive should within five weeks obey a hint from the Supreme Court
which implied a long correspondence and inquiry at spots so remote
as Blennerhassett’s island, Lexington, Nashville, Fort Massac, and
Chickasaw Bluffs. Jefferson was naturally indignant at being treated
with so little courtesy. He wrote with extreme bitterness about
Marshall’s “tricks to force trials before it is possible to collect
the evidence.”[315] He returned threat for threat, with something in
addition:--

   “In what terms of decency can we speak of this? As if an express
   could go to Natchez or the mouth of the Cumberland and return
   in five weeks, to do which has never taken less than twelve!...
   But all the principles of law are to be perverted which would
   bear on the favorite offenders who endeavor to overturn this
   odious republic!... All this, however, will work well. The
   nation will judge both the offender and judges for themselves.
   If a member of the Executive or Legislature does wrong, the day
   is never far distant when the people will remove him. They will
   see then and amend the error in our Constitution which makes
   any branch independent of the nation. They will see that one
   of the great co-ordinate branches of the government, setting
   itself in opposition to the other two and to the common-sense of
   the nation, proclaims impunity to that class of offenders which
   endeavors to overturn the Constitution, and are protected in it
   by the Constitution itself; for impeachment is a farce which
   will not be tried again. If their protection of Burr produces
   this amendment, it will do more good than his condemnation would
   have done; ... and if his punishment can be commuted now for a
   useful amendment of the Constitution, I shall rejoice in it.”

In substance Jefferson said that if Marshall should suffer Burr to
escape, Marshall himself should be removed from office. No secret was
made of this intention. The letter in which Jefferson announced the
threat was written to the Virginia senator William B. Giles, who had
been foremost in every attack upon the Judiciary, and would certainly
lead the new one; but Giles was not the confidant of a secret,--the
idea was common, as Marshall knew. The little society that swarmed in
the court-room and in the streets of Richmond could see without an
effort that the President courted a challenge from Marshall, and that
the chief-justice on his side, for a second or third time, welcomed a
trial of skill and address with the President. If Marshall was in truth
the gloomy and malignant conspirator that Jefferson imagined him to be,
he might easily excuse or justify the President’s intended course.

Punctually, May 22, the next act began. The question of commitment had
been a matter of no great consequence; that of indictment was vital.
Burr must be indicted, not merely for misdemeanor, but for treason;
and to leave no doubt of success, the government summoned a cloud
of witnesses to appear before the grand jury. The town swarmed with
conspirators and government agents. The grand jury--containing some
of the most respected citizens of Virginia--was sworn, and the court
instructed the clerk to place John Randolph as foreman. A long delay
ensued. General Wilkinson, the most important witness for government,
was on his way from New Orleans; and while waiting his arrival from
day to day, the grand jury took evidence and the court listened to
the disputes of counsel. The district-attorney moved to commit Burr
on the charge of treason, while Burr on his side moved for a subpœna
_duces tecum_ to be directed to the President, requiring him to
produce certain papers in evidence. This motion was evidently part of
a system adopted by the defence for annoying and throwing odium on the
Executive,--a system which Burr’s counsel rather avowed than concealed,
by declaiming against the despotism of government and the persecution
of which Burr was a victim. Luther Martin, at the first moment of his
appearance in court, launched into an invective against Jefferson:--

   “The President has undertaken to prejudge my client by declaring
   that ‘of his guilt there can be no doubt.’ He has assumed the
   knowledge of the Supreme Being himself, and pretended to search
   the heart of my highly respected friend. He has proclaimed him a
   traitor in the face of that country which has rewarded him. He
   has let slip the dogs of war, the hell-hounds of persecution,
   to hunt down my friend. And would this President of the United
   States, who has raised all this absurd clamor, pretend to keep
   back the papers which are wanted for this trial, where life
   itself is at stake?”

A long argument followed. Hay, while admitting that the President might
be generally subpœnaed as a witness, held that no need of a subpœna had
been shown, and that in any case a subpœna _duces tecum_ ought not
to be issued. The chief-justice, after hearing counsel on both sides,
read June 13 an elaborate decision, which settled the point in Burr’s
favor.

   “If upon any principle,” said he, “the President could be
   construed to stand exempt from the general provisions of the
   Constitution, it would be because his duties as chief magistrate
   demand his whole time for national objects. But it is apparent
   that this demand is not unremitting; and if it should exist at
   the time when his attendance on a court is required, it would be
   sworn on the return of the subpœna, and would rather constitute
   a reason for not obeying the process of the court than a reason
   against its being issued.... It cannot be denied that to issue
   a subpœna to a person filling the exalted station of the chief
   magistrate is a duty which would be dispensed with much more
   cheerfully than it would be performed; but if it be a duty, the
   court can have no choice in the case.”

Nothing could irritate Jefferson more sensibly than this decision. Only
a few months before, in the trial of Smith and Ogden for complicity
with Miranda, he had ordered his Cabinet to disregard the summons of
the court. Luther Martin did not fail to fling reproach on him for
this act. “In New York, on the farcical trial of Ogden and Smith, the
officers of the government screened themselves from attending, under
the sanction of the President’s name. Perhaps the same farce may be
repeated here.” To be insulted by Martin and to be ordered about the
country by Marshall, exasperated Jefferson beyond reason. He wrote
letter after letter to Hay, filled with resentment:--

   “The leading feature of our Constitution is the independence of
   the Legislature, Executive, and Judiciary of each other; and
   none are more jealous of this than the Judiciary. But would the
   Executive be independent of the Judiciary if he were subject
   to the _commands_ of the latter, and to imprisonment for
   disobedience; if the smaller courts could bandy him from pillar
   to post, keep him constantly trudging from north to south and
   east to west, and withdraw him entirely from his executive
   duties?”[316]

The Judiciary never admitted the propriety of this reasoning,[317]
which was indeed no answer to Marshall’s argument. Unless the President
of the United States were raised above the rank of a citizen, and
endowed with more than royal prerogatives, no duty could be more
imperative upon him than that of lending every aid in his power to the
Judiciary in a case which involved the foundations of civil society
and government. No Judiciary could assume at the outset that Executive
duties would necessarily be interrupted by breaking Jefferson’s long
visits to Monticello in order to bring him for a day to Richmond.
Consciousness of this possible rejoinder disturbed the President’s mind
so much that he undertook to meet it in advance:--

   “The Judge says ‘_it is apparent_ that the President’s
   duties as chief magistrate do not demand his whole time, and are
   not unremitting.’ If he alludes to our annual retirement from
   the seat of government during the sickly season, he should be
   told that such arrangements are made for carrying on the public
   business, at and between the several stations we take, that
   it goes on as unremittingly there as if we were at the seat of
   government.”

The district-attorney would hardly have dared tell this to the
chief-justice, for he must have felt that Marshall would treat it as
an admission. If arrangements could be made for carrying on the public
business at Monticello, why could they not be made for carrying it on
at Richmond?

Perhaps temper had more to do with Jefferson’s reasoning than he
imagined. Nothing could be better calculated to nettle a philosophic
President who believed the world, except within his own domain, to
be too much governed, than the charge that he himself had played the
despot and had trampled upon private rights; but that such charges
should be pressed with the coarseness of Luther Martin, and should
depend on the rulings of John Marshall, seemed an intolerable outrage
on the purity of Jefferson’s intentions. In such cases an explosion
of anger was a common form of relief. Even President Washington was
said to have sometimes dashed his hat upon the ground, and the second
President was famous for gusts of temper.

   “I have heard, indeed,” wrote Jefferson,[318] “that my
   predecessor sometimes decided things against his Council by
   dashing and trampling his wig on the floor. This only proves,
   what you and I knew, that he had a better heart than head.”

Wigs were Federalist symbols of dignity and power. Republicans wore
no wigs, and could use no such resource in moments of rage; but had
President Jefferson worn the full paraphernalia of Federalism,--wig
and powder, cocked hat and small sword,--he would never have shown
his passion in acts of violence or in physical excitement. His
sensitiveness relieved itself in irritability and complaints, in
threats forgotten as soon as uttered, or in reflections tinged with a
color of philosophic thought. His first impulse was to retaliate upon
Martin and thrust him into the criminal dock. He wrote to Hay,[319]--

   “Shall we move to commit Luther Martin as _particeps
   criminis_ with Burr? Graybell will fix upon him misprision
   of treason at least. And at any rate his evidence will put down
   this unprincipled and impudent Federal bulldog, and add another
   proof that the most clamorous defenders of Burr are all his
   accomplices.”

To the attorney-general he wrote in the same words:[320] “I think
it material to break down this bulldog of Federalism.” Jefferson’s
irritation rarely lasted long, and it evaporated with these words.
Martin railed unmolested.

No one fretted by personal feeling could cope with the Rhadamanthine
calm of John Marshall. The President could not successfully strike
back; he was fortunate if he should succeed in warding off his enemies’
blows. In the midst of these controversies and irritations, June
15, General Wilkinson arrived. The audiences which in those days
still crowded to the theatre and laughed at the extraordinary wit and
morality of the “Beggar’s Opera,” found none of its possible allusions
more amusing than the often-quoted line which seemed meant to point at
James Wilkinson. “That Jemmy Twitcher should peach me, I own surprised
me. ’Tis a plain proof that the world is all alike, and that even our
gang can no more trust one another than other people.” Wilkinson had
not a friend; even Daniel Clark turned against him. To break him down,
to prove by his own confession that he was a pensioner of Spain and
an accomplice with Burr, was the known object of the defence; but the
disgrace of Wilkinson would also discredit the President and shake the
Administration which Wilkinson had saved. Whatever the consequences
might be, Jefferson could not allow Wilkinson to suffer.

When Major Bruff, of the artillery, came from St. Louis to Washington
early in March, 1807, three months before Burr’s indictment, he made
bitter complaints to the Secretary of War, accusing the general,
under whose orders he served, of being a spy of Spain and a traitor
with Burr.[321] General Dearborn listened without contradiction, and
replied that there had been a time when General Wilkinson did not
stand well with the Executive, but his energetic measures at New
Orleans had regained him Executive confidence, and the President would
sustain him; that after the actual bustle was over there might perhaps
be an inquiry, but meanwhile Wilkinson must and would be supported.
Attorney-General Rodney went even further.

   “What would be the result,” he asked Bruff, “if all your charges
   against General Wilkinson should be proven? Why, just what
   the Federalists and the enemies of the present Administration
   wish,--it would turn the indignation of the people from Burr on
   Wilkinson. Burr would escape, and Wilkinson take his place.”

Rodney did not add, what was patent to all the world, that if Wilkinson
were to be convicted, President Jefferson himself, whose negligence
had left the Western country, in spite of a thousand warnings, at the
General’s mercy, could not be saved from the roughest handling. The
President and his Cabinet shrank from Marshall’s subpœnas because
under the examination of Wickham, Botts, and Luther Martin they would
be forced either to make common cause with the General, or to admit
their own negligence. The whole case hung together. Disobedience of
the subpœna was necessary for the support of Wilkinson; support of
Wilkinson was more than ever necessary after refusing to obey the
subpœna. The President accepted his full share in the labor. No sooner
did he hear of Wilkinson’s arrival, at the moment when his own subpœna
was issued and defied, than he wrote a letter calculated to give the
General all the confidence he needed:[322]--

   “Your enemies have filled the public ear with slanders and your
   mind with trouble on that account. The establishment of their
   guilt will let the world see what they ought to think of their
   clamors; it will dissipate the doubts of those who doubted for
   want of knowledge, and will place you on higher ground in the
   public estimate and public confidence. No one is more sensible
   than myself of the injustice which has been aimed at you.
   Accept, I pray you, my salutations and assurances of respect and
   esteem.”

As an American citizen Jefferson had the right to respect and esteem
whom he pleased, and need not even excuse his friendships. The world
often loved and cherished its worst rogues,--its Falstaffs, Macheaths,
and Burrs,--and Jefferson was not exempt from such weakness; but that
his respect and esteem for Wilkinson should require him to retain
a pensioned Spanish spy and a confederate with Burr and Dayton at
the head of the United States army during several years of extreme
public danger, was a costly consequence to the people whose confidence
Jefferson claimed and held. John Randolph saw this point clearly, and
his bloodhound instinct detected and followed, without hesitation, the
trail that led to the White House. Whether the chief-justice intended
it or not, he never struck Jefferson a blow so mischievous as when he
directed the clerk to place John Randolph as foreman of the grand
jury.[323] Randolph’s nature revolted from Wilkinson; and if the
President and the General could be gibbeted together, Randolph was the
man to do it.

Such was the situation when the General was sworn and sent before
the grand jury June 15, where his appearance, if his enemy could be
believed, was abject.

   “Under examination all was confusion of language and of looks,”
   wrote Randolph to Nicholson.[324] “Such a countenance never did
   I behold; there was scarcely a variance of opinion among us
   as to his guilt. Yet this miscreant is hugged to the bosom of
   Government while Monroe is denounced.”

Randolph ardently wished to indict the General at the same time with
Burr; and while he strained every nerve to effect this purpose in the
grand-jury room, Burr and his counsel in the court-room moved for
an attachment against Wilkinson for attempting to obstruct the free
course of justice by oppression of witnesses. The district-attorney
resisted both attempts with all his authority; and June 24, to the
disappointment of his enemies, Wilkinson escaped.

   “Yesterday,” wrote Randolph, June 25,[325] “the grand jury
   found bills for treason and misdemeanor against Burr and
   Blennerhassett _una voce_, and this day presented Jonathan
   Dayton, ex-senator, John Smith of Ohio, Comfort Tyler, Israel
   Smith of New York, and Davis Floyd of Indiana, for treason; but
   the mammoth of iniquity escaped,--not that any man pretended to
   think him innocent, but upon certain wire-drawn distinctions
   that I will not pester you with. Wilkinson is the only man that
   I ever saw who was from the bark to the very core a villain.
   The proof is unquestionable; but, my good friend, I cannot
   enter upon it here. Suffice it to say that I have seen it, and
   that it is not susceptible of misconstruction. Burr supported
   himself with great fortitude. He was last night lodged in the
   common town jail (we have no State prison except for convicts),
   where I daresay he slept sounder than I did. Perhaps you never
   saw human nature in so degraded a situation as in the person of
   Wilkinson before the grand jury; and yet this man stands on the
   very summit and pinnacle of Executive favor, while James Monroe
   is denounced.”

In the debates of the next session, when Randolph followed up his
attacks on Jefferson by trying to identify him with Wilkinson’s
misdeeds, a fuller account was given of the plea which saved Wilkinson
from presentment.

   “There was before the grand jury,” said Randolph,[326] “a motion
   to present General Wilkinson for misprision of treason. This
   motion was overruled upon this ground,--that the treasonable
   (overt) act having been alleged to be committed in the State
   of Ohio, and General Wilkinson’s letter to the President of
   the United States having been dated, though but a short time,
   prior to that act, this person had the benefit of what lawyers
   would call a legal exception, or a fraud; but I will inform the
   gentleman that I did not hear a single member of the grand jury
   express any other opinion than that which I myself expressed, of
   the moral, not of the legal, guilt of the party.”

In the evidence taken by a Congressional committee in 1811 regarding
Wilkinson,[327] several members of the grand jury were called to
testify; and their accounts showed that the motion to present General
Wilkinson for misprision of treason was made by Littleton W. Tazewell,
and supported by Randolph and three or four other members of the grand
jury. One witness thought that the vote stood 9 to 7.

Narrow though the loophole might be, Wilkinson squeezed through it. The
indictment of Burr was at length obtained. The conspirators, who had
at first vehemently averred that Wilkinson would never dare to appear,
and who if he should appear intended to break him down before the grand
jury, were reduced to hoping for revenge when he should come on the
witness-stand. Meanwhile, June 26, Burr pleaded not guilty, and the
court adjourned until August 3, when the trial was to begin.

Thus far the President had carried everything before him. He had
produced his witnesses, had sustained Wilkinson, indicted Burr, and
defied Marshall’s subpœnas. This success could not be won without
rousing passion. Richmond was in the hands of the conspirators, and
they denounced Jefferson publicly and without mercy, as they denounced
Wilkinson and every other government officer.

   “As I was crossing the court-house green,” said an
   eye-witness,[328] “I heard a great noise of haranguing some
   distance off. Inquiring what it was, I was told it was a great
   blackguard from Tennessee, one Andrew Jackson, making a speech
   for Burr and damning Jefferson as a persecutor.”

Hay wrote to the President, June 14:[329]--

   “General Jackson, of Tennessee, has been here ever since the
   22d, denouncing Wilkinson in the coarsest terms in every
   company. The latter showed me a paper which at once explained
   the motive of this incessant hostility. His own character
   depends on the prostration of Wilkinson’s.”

This paper was no doubt Jackson’s secret denunciation to Claiborne.
Young Samuel Swartwout, who had some reason to complain of the
ridiculous figure he had been made to cut, jostled Wilkinson in the
street, and ended by posting him for a coward. John Randolph echoed
Luther Martin’s tirades against the President. Randolph was in despair
at Jefferson’s success.

   “My friend,” he wrote to Nicholson,[330] “I am standing on the
   soil of my native country divested of every right for which our
   fathers bled. Politics have usurped the place of law, and the
   scenes of 1798 are again revived. Men now see and hear, and
   feel and think, _politically_. Maxims are now advanced and
   advocated which would almost have staggered the effrontery of
   Bayard or the cooler impudence of Chauncey Goodrich when we were
   first acquainted.”

All this work was but skirmishing. The true struggle had still to come.
So long as the President dealt only with grand jurors and indictments,
he could hardly fail to succeed; but the case was different when he
dealt directly with Chief-Justice Marshall and with the stubborn words
of the Constitution, that “no person shall be convicted of treason
unless on the testimony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on
confession in open court.” The district-attorney was ready with a mass
of evidence, but the chief-justice alone could say whether a syllable
of this evidence should be admitted; and hitherto the chief-justice had
by no means shown a bias toward the government. Hay was convinced that
Marshall meant to protect Burr, and he wrote to the President on the
subject:[331]--

   “The bias of Judge Marshall is as obvious as if it was stamped
   upon his forehead. I may do him injustice, but I do not believe
   that I am, when I say that he is endeavoring to work himself up
   to a state of f[irmness?] which will enable [him] to aid Burr
   throughout the trial without appearing to be conscious of doing
   wrong. He seems to think that his reputation is irretrievably
   gone, and that he has now nothing to lose by doing as he
   pleases. His concern for Mr. Burr is wonderful. He told me
   many years ago, when Burr was rising in the estimation of the
   Republican party, that he was as profligate in principle as he
   was desperate in fortune. I remember his words; they astonished
   me. Yet when the grand jury brought in their bill, the
   chief-justice gazed at him for a long time, without appearing
   conscious that he was doing so, with an expression of sympathy
   and sorrow as strong as the human countenance can exhibit
   without palpable emotion.”

August 3 the court opened its session and the trial began. Not until
August 17 was the jury impanelled; and meanwhile a new figure appeared
at Burr’s side. Blennerhassett arrived in Richmond August 4, and was
brought before the court August 10. He began at once a private journal
of the trial, which remained the only record of what passed among the
conspirators. As each witness appeared, Blennerhassett told the gossip
regarding him.

   “The once redoubted Eaton,”[332] who was put first upon the
   stand, “has dwindled down in the eyes of this sarcastic town
   into a ridiculous mountebank, strutting about the streets under
   a tremendous hat, with a Turkish sash over colored clothes, when
   he is not tippling in the taverns, where he offers up with his
   libations the bitter effusions of his sorrows.”

“Old sly-boots” Dayton,[333] he said, was lurking about corners.

   Wilkinson[334] “exhibited the manner of a sergeant under a
   court-martial rather than the demeanor of an accusing officer
   confronted with his culprit. His perplexity and derangement,
   even upon his direct examination, has placed beyond all doubt
   ‘his honor as a soldier and his fidelity as a citizen.’”

These comments were sharp, yet the pages of Blennerhassett’s diary were
not so severe upon any of the witnesses for the government as they were
upon Burr himself. Blennerhassett had wakened to the discovery that
Burr was, after all, but a vulgar swindler. The collapse of Burr’s
courage when confronted by Cowles Meade and the Mississippi militia at
Cole’s Creek January 17; his desertion of Blennerhassett and his flight
toward Spanish territory; the protest of the bills which he had drawn
on pretended funds in New York, and which Blennerhassett had indorsed
under Allston’s guaranty; the evident wish of Allston to repudiate
this guaranty as he had repudiated Burr; and the ruin which had fallen
on Blennerhassett’s property at the island,--taught the Irishman how
thoroughly he had been duped:[335]--

   “The present trial cannot fail to furnish ample testimony, if
   not to the guilt, at least to the defect of every talent under
   the assumption of which this giddy adventurer has seduced so
   many followers of riper experience and better judgment than
   myself.”

Yet Burr’s mastership in deportment, his superficial dignity, his
cheerfulness and sanguine temperament, and the skill with which he
managed legal tactics, made an impression on Blennerhassett’s mind:--

   “As a jockey might restore his fame in the course after he
   had injured it on the tight-rope, so, perhaps, the little
   ‘Emperor’ at Cole’s Creek may be forgotten in the attorney at
   Richmond.”[336]

For a few days the trial went on undisturbed, while the government
put Eaton, Truxton, Peter Taylor, the Morgans, and a number of
other witnesses on the stand to prove an overt act of treason at
Blennerhassett’s island; but nothing short of Blennerhassett’s own
confession could place the matter in a clear light, and Burr’s chief
fear was evidently that Blennerhassett should turn State’s evidence. To
prevent this, Allston was persuaded to pay the more pressing demands
against Blennerhassett, and Burr exerted himself to conciliate him.
On the other hand, Jefferson seemed to hope that he could be won
over.[337] Duane, of the “Aurora,” visited him in prison August 23,
and offered to serve as an intermediary with the government.[338]
Had matters gone as the President hoped, something might have come
of this manœuvre; but before further pressure could be employed, the
chief-justice struck the prosecution dead.

August 19 Burr’s counsel suddenly moved to arrest the evidence. The
government, they said, had gone through all its testimony relating to
the overt act charged in the indictment; it admitted that Burr was
hundreds of miles distant from the scene; and as the district-attorney
was about to introduce collateral testimony of acts done beyond the
jurisdiction of the court, it became the duty of the defence to object.

For ten days this vital point was argued. All the counsel on either
side exerted themselves to the utmost. Wickham’s opening speech on
the nature of treason was declared by as good a judge as Littleton
Tazewell to be “the greatest forensic effort of the American bar.”[339]
Luther Martin spoke fourteen hours, beginning with an almost passionate
allusion to his idol Theodosia. William Wirt exhausted his powers
of argument and oratory, and in the course of his address made the
rhetorical display which became familiar to every American, and which
introduced a sort of appeal to Blennerhassett to turn against the more
guilty crew who were trying to sacrifice him to save themselves:--

   “Who is Blennerhassett? A native of Ireland, a man of letters,
   who fled from the storms of his own country to find quiet in
   ours.”

George Hay was neither so efficient nor so dexterous as Wirt, and
either intentionally or by awkwardness succeeded in giving the
impression of threatening the court:[340]--

   “Mr. Bott says that we are now advocating opinions which
   on Fries’ trial we condemned.... I beg leave to assure the
   gentleman that the censure which the judge drew on himself was
   not on account of his opinions, however incorrect they might
   be, but for his arbitrary and irregular conduct at the trial,
   which was one of the principal causes for which he was afterward
   impeached. He attempted to wrest the decision from the jury, and
   prejudge the case before hearing all the evidence in it,--the
   identical thing which this court is now called on by these
   gentlemen to do.”

That Hay, knowing well Jefferson’s thoughts and the magic that
hung about the word “impeachment,” should have used these words
inadvertently seemed hardly credible. If he did so, his clumsiness
was as offensive as the threat could have been, for the idea of
impeachment was in the air of the court-house. Burr’s counsel at once
retaliated.[341] “It was very kind of the gentleman to remind the court
of the danger of a decision of the motion in favor of the prisoner.”
Hay protested that he had spoken innocently, and the chief-justice
said that the allusion had not been taken as personal; but the
unpleasant impression remained. “The gentleman plainly insinuated the
possibility of danger to the court,” persisted the defence; and Luther
Martin added,[342]--

   “I do not know whether it were intended by this observation that
   your honors should be apprehensive of an impeachment in case you
   should decide against the wishes of the government. I will not
   presume that it was used with that view, but it is susceptible
   of being so misunderstood, however innocently or inadvertently
   it may have been made.”

August 31 the chief-justice read his decision. Much the longest of
Marshall’s judicial opinions; elaborately argued, with many citations,
and with less simple adherence to one leading thought than was usual
in his logic,--this paper seemed, in the imagination of Marshall’s
enemies, to betray a painful effort to reconcile his dictum in
Bollman’s case with the exclusion of further evidence in the case of
Burr. To laymen, who knew only the uncertainties of law; who thought
that the assemblage on Blennerhassett’s island was such an overt act
as might, without violent impropriety, be held by a jury to be an act
of levying war; and who conceived that Burr, although absent from the
spot, was as principal present in a legal sense such as would excuse a
jury in finding him guilty,--an uneasy doubt could not fail to suggest
itself that the chief-justice, with an equal effort of ingenuity,
might have produced equal conviction in a directly opposite result. On
the other hand, the intent of the Constitution was clear. The men who
framed that instrument remembered the crimes that had been perpetrated
under the pretence of justice; for the most part they had been
traitors themselves, and having risked their necks under the law they
feared despotism and arbitrary power more than they feared treason.
No one could doubt that their sympathies, at least in 1788, when the
Constitution was framed, would have been on the side of Marshall’s
decision. If Jefferson, since 1788, had changed his point of view, the
chief-justice was not under obligations to imitate him.

   “If it be said that the advising or procurement of treason is
   a secret transaction which can scarcely ever be proved in the
   manner required by this opinion, the answer which will readily
   suggest itself is that the difficulty of proving a fact will not
   justify conviction without proof.”

At the close of his decision the chief-justice, with simple dignity
which still compels respectful admiration, took up the gauntlet which
the district-attorney had flung at his feet. As though turning from the
crowd in the court-room to look for a moment directly into the eyes of
the President, the threatened chief-justice uttered a few words that
were at once answer and defiance:--

   “Much has been said in the course of the argument on points on
   which the Court feels no inclination to comment particularly,
   but which may perhaps not improperly receive some notice.

   “That this Court dares not usurp power is most true; that this
   Court dares not shrink from its duty is not less true. No man
   is desirous of placing himself in a disagreeable situation; no
   man is desirous of becoming the peculiar subject of calumny;
   no man, might he let the bitter cup pass from him without
   self-reproach, would drain it to the bottom; but if he has no
   choice in the case,--if there is no alternative presented to him
   but a dereliction of duty or the opprobrium of those who are
   denominated the world,--he merits the contempt as well as the
   indignation of his country who can hesitate which to embrace....

   “No testimony relative to the conduct or declarations of the
   prisoner elsewhere and subsequent to the transactions on
   Blennerhassett’s island can be admitted; because such testimony,
   being in its nature merely corroborative, and incompetent to
   prove the overt act in itself, is irrelevant until there be
   proof of the overt act by two witnesses.”

On the following day, September 1, District-Attorney Hay abandoned the
case, and the jury entered a verdict of “Not guilty.” Hay instantly
reported to Monticello the result of his efforts, and added criticisms
upon Marshall:[343]--

   “Wirt, who has hitherto advocated the _integrity_ of the
   chief-justice, now abandons him. This last opinion has opened
   his eyes, and he speaks in the strongest terms of reprobation.”

September 4 Jefferson replied in the tone which always accompanied his
vexation:[344]--

   “Yours of the 1st came to hand yesterday. The event has been
   what was evidently intended from the beginning of the trial;
   that is to say, not only to clear Burr, but to prevent the
   evidence from ever going before the world. But this latter
   case must not take place. It is now, therefore, more than ever
   indispensable that not a single witness be paid or permitted to
   depart until his testimony has been committed to writing....
   These whole proceedings will be laid before Congress, that they
   may decide whether the defect has been in the evidence of guilt,
   or in the law, or in the application of the law, and that they
   may provide the proper remedy for the past and the future.”

Accordingly, although the trial for treason was at an end, the
district-attorney pressed the indictment for misdemeanor; and until
October 19 the chief-justice was occupied in hearing testimony
intended for use not against Burr, but against himself. Then at last
the conspirators were suffered to go their way, subject to legal
proceedings in Ohio which the government had no idea of prosecuting;
while the President, mortified and angry, prepared to pursue Marshall
instead of Burr. The Federalists, who always overrated the strength
of party passions, trembled again for the Judiciary; but in truth
nothing was to be feared. The days of Jefferson’s power and glory had
passed forever, while those of Marshall had barely begun. Even on
the testimony, the President’s case was far from being so clear as
he had hoped and expected. His chief witness, Wilkinson, could only
with difficulty be sustained; and the district-attorney, who began by
pledging himself before the court to show the falsity of the charges
which had been brought against the General, ended by admitting their
truth.

   “The declaration which I made in court in his favor some time
   ago,” wrote Hay to the President at the close,[345] “was
   precipitate; and though I have not retracted it, everybody sees
   that I have not attempted the task which I in fact promised to
   perform. My confidence in him is shaken, if not destroyed. I am
   sorry for it, on his own account, on the public account, and
   because you have expressed opinions in his favor; but you did
   not know then what you will soon know, and what I did not learn
   until after--long after--my declaration above mentioned.”

The hint was strong. If Wilkinson were discredited, Jefferson himself
was in danger. To attack the Supreme Court on such evidence was to
invite a worse defeat than in the impeachment of Chase. Meanwhile the
country had graver dangers to think about, and enemies at its doors who
were not to be curbed by proclamations or impeachments.


END OF VOL. III.




FOOTNOTES:

[1] Diary of J. Q. Adams (March 4, 1805), i. 373.

[2] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 341.

[3] Gallatin’s Writings, i. 227.

[4] Jefferson to General Heath, Dec. 13, 1804; Jefferson MSS.

[5] Jefferson to Robert Smith, Jan. 3, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[6] Crowninshield to Jefferson, Jan. 29, 1805; Jefferson MSS. State
Department Archives.

[7] Dearborn to Robertson, March 20, 1805; State Papers, vol. v.;
Indian Affairs, i. 700.

[8] Message of Jan. 30, 1808; State Papers, vol. v.; Indian Affairs, i.
752.

[9] Jefferson to Gallatin, May 29, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, 232.

[10] Monroe and Pinckney to Cevallos, Jan. 28, 1805; State Papers, ii.
636.

[11] Cevallos to Monroe and Pinckney, Jan. 31, 1805; State Papers, ii.
636.

[12] Monroe and Pinckney to Madison, May 23, 1805; State Papers, ii.
667.

[13] Pinckney and Monroe to Cevallos, Feb. 5, 1805; State Papers, ii.
640.

[14] Cevallos to Monroe and Pinckney, Feb. 10, 1805; State Papers, ii.
541.

[15] Cevallos to Monroe and Pinckney, Feb. 16, 1806; State Papers, ii.
643.

[16] Cevallos to Monroe and Pinckney, Feb. 24, 1805; State Papers, ii.
644.

[17] Monroe and Pinckney to Cevallos, Feb. 26, 1805; State Papers, ii.
646.

[18] Monroe’s diary at Aranjuez, March 16, 1805; Monroe MSS.

[19] Monroe to Armstrong, March 1, 1805; MSS. State Department Archives.

[20] Armstrong to Monroe, March 12 and 18, 1805; State Papers, ii. 636.

[21] Pinckney and Monroe to Cevallos, March 30, 1805; State Papers, ii.
657.

[22] Monroe and Pinckney to Cevallos, April 9, 1805; State Papers, ii.
658.

[23] Monroe and Pinckney to Cevallos, April 12, 1805; State Papers, ii.
660.

[24] Cevallos to Pinckney and Monroe, April 13, 1805; State Papers, ii.
660.

[25] Monroe and Pinckney to Cevallos, April 20, 1805; State Papers, ii.
662.

[26] Monroe and Pinckney to Madison, 23 May, 1805; State Papers, ii.
668.

[27] Pinckney and Monroe to Cevallos, May 12, 1805; State Papers, ii.
665.

[28] Cevallos to Monroe and Pinckney, May 15, 1805; State Papers, ii.
666.

[29] Erving to Madison, Dec. 7, 1805; MSS. State Department Archives.

[30] Armstrong to Monroe, May 4, 1805; MSS. State Department Archives.

[31] Armstrong to Madison, July 3, 1805; MSS. State Department Archives.

[32] Cf. Correspondance de Napoleon, xxxii. 321.

[33] Monroe to Madison, June 30, 1805; MSS. State Department Archives.

[34] Monroe to Madison, Oct. 18, 1805; State Papers, iii. 106.

[35] Monroe to Madison, June 3, 1805; State Papers, iii. 93.

[36] Act of April 10, 1805; Instructions of June 29, 1805; Orders of
Aug. 3, 1805.

[37] See First Administration, ii. 400.

[38] Speech of Sir John Nicholl (Advocate-General), Feb. 11, 1805;
Cobbett’s Debates, iii. 407.

[39] Monroe to Madison, Aug. 16, 1805; State Papers, iii. 103.

[40] Monroe to Madison, Aug. 20, 1805; State Papers, iii. 105.

[41] Monroe to Madison, Oct. 18, 1805; State Papers, iii. 106. Monroe
to Colonel Taylor, Sept. 10, 1810; Monroe MSS., State Department
Archives.

[42] New Reasons for abolishing the Slave-Trade, 1807.

[43] War in Disguise, pp. 131–133.

[44] Bosanquet, Causes of the Depreciation, etc. p. 42.

[45] Jefferson to Madison, March 23, 1805; Madison MSS.

[46] Madison to Jefferson, March 27, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[47] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 350.

[48] See p. 8.

[49] Madison to Jefferson, Aug. 2, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[50] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 374.

[51] Jefferson to Madison, Aug. 7, 1805; Works, iv. 583.

[52] Jefferson to Madison, Aug. 17, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[53] Madison to Jefferson, Aug. 20, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[54] Jefferson to Madison, Aug. 27, 1805; Works iv. 585.

[55] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 1, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[56] Gallatin to Madison, Aug. 6, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 237.

[57] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 1, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[58] Gallatin to Jefferson, Sept. 12, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 241.

[59] Gallatin to Jefferson, May 30, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 233.

[60] Robert Smith to Jefferson, Sept. 10, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[61] Jefferson to Madison, Sept. 16, 1805; Works, iv. 587.

[62] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 30, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[63] Jefferson to Madison, Sept. 18, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[64] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 380.

[65] Madison to Jefferson, Oct. 16, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[66] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 14, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[67] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 380.

[68] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 381.

[69] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 30, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[70] Cabinet Memoranda; Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), i. 308.

[71] Turreau to Madison, 26 Thermidor, An xiii. (Aug. 14, 1805); MSS.
State Department Archives.

[72] Jefferson to Madison, Aug. 25, 1805; Works, iv. 584.

[73] Madison to Jefferson, Sept. 1, 1805; Jefferson MSS.

[74] Turreau to Talleyrand, 20 Messidor, An xiii. (July 9, 1805);
Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[75] Turreau to Talleyrand, 30 Germinal, An xiii. (April 20, 1805);
Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[76] State Papers, ii. 728.

[77] Napoleon to Talleyrand, 22 Thermidor, An xiii. (Aug. 10, 1805);
Correspondance, xi. 73.

[78] Talleyrand to Armstrong, 29 Thermidor, An xiii. (Aug. 16, 1805);
State Papers, ii. 726.

[79] Turreau to Madison, Jan. 3, 1806; State Papers, ii. 726.

[80] State Papers, ii. 682–695.

[81] Fragments of Voyages and Travels, by Captain Basil Hall, R. N., F.
R. S., London, 1856.

[82] Gallatin to Jefferson, April 16, 1807; Works, i. 335.

[83] Merry to Mulgrave, Sept. 2, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[84] Merry to Mulgrave, Sept. 30, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[85] Ibid.

[86] Merry to Mulgrave, Nov. 3, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[87] Merry to Mulgrave, Nov. 3, 1805: MSS. British Archives.

[88] Merry to Mulgrave, Nov. 3, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[89] Jefferson to Madison, Aug. 27, 1805; Writings, iv. 585.

[90] Armstrong to Madison, Sept. 10, 1805; MSS. State Department
Archives.

[91] Cabinet Memoranda; Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), i. 309.

[92] Merry to Mulgrave, Dec. 2, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[93] Jefferson to Judge Cooper, Feb. 18, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[94] Gallatin to Jefferson, Nov. 21, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 261.

[95] Jefferson to Gallatin, Nov. 24, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 264.

[96] Jefferson to Gallatin: Spanish Resolutions, 1805; Gallatin’s
Writings, i. 277.

[97] Gallatin to Jefferson, Dec. 3, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 278.

[98] Jefferson to Gallatin, Dec. 4, 1805; Gallatin’s Writings, i. 281.

[99] Jefferson to Bidwell, July 5, 1806; Writings, v. 14.

[100] Adams’s Randolph, p. 161.

[101] Turreau to Talleyrand, Jan. 20, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[102] Diary of J. Q. Adams (March 8, 1806), i. 419.

[103] Columbian Centinel, Dec. 21, 1805.

[104] Cabinet Memoranda; Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), i. 308.

[105] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Nov. 30, 1805), i. 376.

[106] Jefferson to Monroe, May 4, 1806; Writings (Ford), viii. 447.

[107] State Papers, ii. 613.

[108] First Letter of Decius, in the “Richmond Enquirer,” August, 1806.

[109] Nicholson to Gallatin, Dec. 8, 1805; Gallatin MSS.

[110] Decius, No. 1; Randolph’s speech of April 5, 1806; Annals of
Congress, 1805–1806, pp. 984–985.

[111] Decius, No. 1.

[112] Madison to Armstrong and Bowdoin, March 13, 1806; State Papers,
iii. 539.

[113] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 8, 1806), i. 405.

[114] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Jan. 15, 1806), i. 383.

[115] Act of Feb. 28, 1806; Annals of Congress, 1805–1806, p. 1228.

[116] Ames to Pickering; Ames’s Works, i. 342. Cf. Lodge’s Cabot, p.
315.

[117] Boston Memorial; Annals of Congress, 1806–1809, Appendix, p. 890.

[118] Message of Jan. 17, 1806; State Papers, ii. 727.

[119] Annals of Congress, 1793–1795, p. 155.

[120] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 13, 1806), i. 408.

[121] Randolph’s Speech of March 5, 1805; Annals of Congress,
1805–1806, p. 571.

[122] Merry to Mulgrave, Feb. 2, 1806; MSS. British Archives.

[123] Diary of J. Q. Adams (March 13, 1806), i. 420.

[124] Adams’s Randolph, p. 203.

[125] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 1, 1806), i. 395.

[126] Jefferson to Monroe, March 10, 1808; Works, v. 253.

[127] Annals of Congress, 1805–1806, p. 555.

[128] Annals of Congress, 1805–1806, p. 961.

[129] Jefferson to Monroe, March 16, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[130] Jefferson to Monroe, March 18, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[131] Adams’s Randolph, p. 199–202.

[132] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 439.

[133] Samuel Smith to W. C. Nicholas, April 1, 1806; Nicholas MSS.

[134] Cf. Jefferson to W. C. Nicholas, March 24 and April 13, 1806.
Writings (Ford), viii. 434.

[135] W. C. Nicholas to Jefferson, April 2, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[136] Annals of Congress, 1805–1806, p. 1107.

[137] Annals of Congress, March 26, 1806, p. 851.

[138] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 15, 1806), i. 410.

[139] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 20, 1806), i. 414.

[140] Miranda to Madison, Jan. 22, 1806; Madison MSS.

[141] Yrujo to Cevallos, Feb. 12, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[142] Yrujo to Turreau, Feb. 4, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[143] Turreau to Yrujo, Feb. 7, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[144] See p. 111.

[145] Merry to Lord Mulgrave, March 19, 1806; MSS. British Archives.

[146] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 451.

[147] Merry to C. J. Fox, May 4, 1806; MSS. British Archives.

[148] Turreau to Talleyrand, Jan. 15, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[149] Turreau to Talleyrand, May 10, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[150] Jefferson to Bidwell, July 5, 1806; Works, v. 14; Jefferson MSS.

[151] Pickering to Gouverneur Morris, Oct. 21, 1814; Lodge’s Cabot, p.
535.

[152] Deposition of Matthew Lyon; Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. Appendix,
lxviii.

[153] Adair to Wilkinson, Jan. 27, 1806; Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii.
Appendix, lxxvii.

[154] Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. 283.

[155] Daniel Clark to Wilkinson, Sept. 7, 1805; Wilkinson’s Memoirs,
ii. Appendix, xxxiii.

[156] Wilkinson to Clark, Oct. 12, 1807; Clark’s Proofs, p. 154.

[157] Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. Appendix, lxxxvi.

[158] Merry to Mulgrave, Aug. 4, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[159] Turreau to Talleyrand, Feb. 13, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[160] Wilkinson’s Evidence, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 611.

[161] Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. 303.

[162] Merry to Lord Mulgrave, Nov. 25, 1805; MSS. British Archives.

[163] Yrujo to Cevallos, Dec. 5, 1805; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[164] Yrujo to Cevallos, Jan. 1, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[165] Deposition of General Eaton; Life of William Eaton, p. 396.

[166] Burr to Wilkinson, Dec. 12, 1806; Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii.
Appendix, lxxxiv.

[167] Evidence of Major Bruff, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 597.

[168] Evidence of William Eaton, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, pp. 511, 512.

[169] Deposition of Jan. 26, 1807; Life of Eaton, p. 401.

[170] Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. Appendix, lxxxiii.

[171] Yrujo to Cevallos, May 14, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[172] Yrujo to Cevallos, June 9, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[173] Cevallos to Casa Yrujo, March 28, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[174] Cevallos to Casa Yrujo, July 12, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[175] Merry to C. J. Fox, June 1, 1806; MSS. British Archives.

[176] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 351.

[177] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 333; Blennerhassett to Allston, March
2, 1811.

[178] Blennerhassett Papers, pp. 397, 535.

[179] Yrujo to Cevallos, Nov. 10, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[180] Yrujo to Cevallos, Dec. 16, 1806; MSS. Spanish Archives.

[181] Merry to C. J. Fox, Nov. 2, 1806; MSS. British Archives.

[182] Gayarré’s Louisiana; Spanish Domination, pp. 192–199.

[183] See History of First Administration, p. 240.

[184] Marshall’s History of Kentucky, ii. 376–384.

[185] Daveiss to Jefferson, Jan. 10, 1806; View of the President’s
Conduct, by J. H. Daveiss, 1807. Clark’s Proofs, pp. 177–179.

[186] Daveiss to Jefferson, Feb. 10, 1806; View, etc. Cf. Marshall’s
History of Kentucky, ii. 401.

[187] See p. 278.

[188] Jefferson to Daveiss, Feb. 15, 1806; View, etc. Clark’s Proofs,
p. 179.

[189] Burr to John Smith, Oct. 26, 1806; Senate Report, p. 33.

[190] Marshall’s History of Kentucky, ii. 396.

[191] Cabinet Memoranda; Writings (Ford), i. 318.

[192] National Intelligencer, Jan. 12, 1807.

[193] Dearborn to Wilkinson, Nov. 27, 1806; Report of Committee, Feb.
26, 1811; 3 Sess. 11 Cong. p. 408.

[194] See Cabinet Memoranda of October 22, p. 278.

[195] Proclamation of Nov. 27, 1806; Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. Appendix,
xcvii.

[196] Jackson to Claiborne, Nov. 12, 1806; Burr’s Trial. Annals of
Congress, 1807–1808, p. 571.

[197] Letters of General Adair and General Jackson, 1817.

[198] Parton’s Burr, ii. 87.

[199] Parton’s Jackson, i. 322.

[200] Bissell to Andrew Jackson, Jan. 5, 1807; Annals of Congress,
1806–1807, p. 1017.

[201] Jefferson to Wilkinson, Jan. 3, 1807; Burr’s Trial. Annals of
Congress, 1807–1808, p. 580.

[202] Report of the Select Committee to the Kentucky Legislature, Dec.
2, 1806; National Intelligencer, Jan. 7, 1807.

[203] Wilkinson’s Evidence, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 515.

[204] Wilkinson to Daniel Clark, Oct. 5, 1807; Clark’s Proofs, p. 154.

[205] Laussat to Decrès, 18 Germinal, An xii. (April 8, 1804); Archives
de la Marine, MSS. Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 10.

[206] Gayarré, Spanish Domination, p. 627.

[207] Laussat to Decrès, 18 Germinal, An xii. (April 8, 1804); Archives
de la Marine, MSS.

[208] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 35.

[209] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 161.

[210] Report of the Committee to inquire into the Conduct of General
Wilkinson, Feb. 26, 1811; 3 Sess. 11 Cong. p. 320.

[211] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 151.

[212] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 153.

[213] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 154.

[214] Clark’s Proofs, p. 145.

[215] Clark to Wilkinson, Oct. 2, 1806; Clark’s Proofs, p. 157.

[216] Wilkinson’s Evidence, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 518. Evidence of Lieutenant Spence, Report of House
Committee, Feb. 26, 1811; 3 Sess. 11 Cong., p. 312.

[217] Wilkinson to Smith, Sept. 28, 1806; Senate Report, Dec. 31, 1807,
p. 41.

[218] See p. 253.

[219] Wilkinson to Jefferson, Oct. 20 and 21, 1806; Wilkinson’s
Memoirs, ii. Appendix, xcv.

[220] Wilkinson to Freeman, Oct. 23, 1806; Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii.
Appendix, ci.

[221] Wilkinson’s Evidence, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 541.

[222] Wilkinson to Cushing, Nov. 7, 1806; Memoirs, ii. Appendix, xcix.

[223] Ibid.

[224] Ibid.

[225] Wilkinson to Jefferson, Nov. 12, 1806; Memoirs, ii. Appendix, c.

[226] Wilkinson to Claiborne, Nov. 12, 1806; Memoirs, ii. 328.

[227] Jackson to Claiborne, Nov. 12, 1806; Burr’s Trial. Annals of
Congress, 1807–1808, p. 571.

[228] Gayarré’s Louisiana, iii. 163.

[229] President’s Message of Jan· 22, 1807. Annals of Congress,
1806–1807, p. 43.

[230] Wilkinson to Daniel Clark, Dec. 10, 1806; Clark’s Proofs, p. 150.

[231] Clark’s Proofs, p. 151.

[232] Wilkinson to Daniel Clark, March 20, 1807; Clark’s Proofs, p. 151.

[233] Wilkinson to Daniel Clark, Oct. 5, 1807; Clark’s Proofs, p. 154.

[234] Deposition of John Shaw, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, p. 573.

[235] Evidence of Lieutenant Jacob Jackson, Burr’s Trial; Annals of
Congress, 1807–1808, p. 683.

[236] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 426.

[237] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 206.

[238] Robert Smith to Jefferson, Dec. 22, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[239] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 504.

[240] Randolph to Monroe, Jan. 2, 1807; Monroe MSS.

[241] Samuel Smith to W. C. Nicholas, Jan. 9, 1807; Nicholas MSS.

[242] Wilkinson to Jefferson, Dec. 14, 1806; Annals of Congress,
1806–1807, p. 1009.

[243] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Jan. 23, 1807), i. 445.

[244] Diary of J. Q. Adams (Feb. 21, 1807), i. 459.

[245] Yrujo to Cevallos, Jan. 28, 1807: MSS. Spanish Archives.

[246] Clark’s Proofs against Wilkinson, 1809.

[247] Jefferson’s Writings (Ford), viii. 502.

[248] Adams’s Randolph, p. 206.

[249] Adams’s Randolph, p. 208.

[250] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 389.

[251] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 598.

[252] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 610.

[253] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 398.

[254] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 400.

[255] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 168.

[256] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 183.

[257] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 238.

[258] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 267.

[259] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 477.

[260] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 626.

[261] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 635.

[262] Annals of Congress, 1806–1807, p. 635.

[263] Diary of J. Q. Adams, i. 464.

[264] Thiers, Consulat et Empire, vi. 30.

[265] Armstrong to Madison, Feb. 17, 1806; MSS. State Department
Archives.

[266] Armstrong to Madison, March 9, 1806; MSS. State Department
Archives.

[267] Madison to Armstrong and Bowdoin, March 13, 1806; MSS. State
Department Archives.

[268] Armstrong to Madison (private), May 4, 1806; MSS. State
Department Archives.

[269] Bowdoin to Jefferson, May 20, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[270] Bowdoin to Jefferson, Oct. 20, 1806; Jefferson MSS.

[271] Armstrong to Madison, Oct. 10, 1806; MSS. State Department
Archives.

[272] Talleyrand to Vandeul, May 21, 1806; Archives, des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[273] Vandeul to Talleyrand, June 19, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[274] Vandeul to Talleyrand, June 23, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[275] Armstrong to Madison, Oct. 10, 1806; MSS. State Department
Archives.

[276] Talleyrand to Vandeul, July 3, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[277] Talleyrand to Vandeul, July 12, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[278] Talleyrand to Turreau, July 31, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[279] Armstrong to Madison, Dec. 24, 1806; State Papers ii. 805.

[280] Monroe to Madison, Feb. 12, 1806; MSS. State Department Archives.

[281] Monroe to Madison, April 3, 1806; State Papers, iii. 115.

[282] Monroe to Madison, April 18, 1806; State Papers, iii. 116.

[283] Monroe to Madison, May 17, 1806; State Papers, iii. 124.

[284] Madison to Monroe and Pinkney, May 17, 1806; State Papers, iii.
119.

[285] Jefferson to Monroe, May 4, 1806; Works, v. 12.

[286] Memoirs of Lord Holland, ii. 98–103.

[287] Oil without Vinegar, Medford, London, 1807.

[288] Monroe and Pinkney to Madison, Jan. 3, 1807; State Papers, iii.
145.

[289] American State Papers, iii. 151.

[290] Monroe to Colonel Taylor, 10 Sept., 1810; Monroe MSS., State
Department Archives.

[291] Order in Council, of Jan. 7, 1807; American State Papers, iii.
267.

[292] Cobbett’s Debates, viii. 632.

[293] Cobbett’s Debates, viii. 635.

[294] Howick to Erskine, Jan. 8, 1807; Cobbett’s Debates, x. 558.
Erskine to Madison, March 12, 1807; American State Papers, iii. 158.

[295] Edinburgh Review, xxii. 485.

[296] T. P. Courtney’s Additional Observations on the American Treaty,
London, 1808, p. 89.

[297] Madison to Monroe and Pinkney, Feb. 3, 1807; State Papers, iii.
153.

[298] Turreau to Talleyrand, Dec. 12, 1806; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[299] Turreau to Talleyrand, Jan. 12, 1807; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[300] Turreau to Talleyrand, Feb. 23, 1807; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[301] Turreau to Talleyrand, April 1, 1807; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[302] Turreau to Talleyrand, May 15, 1807; Archives des Aff. Étr., MSS.

[303] Erskine to Howick, March 6, 1807; MSS. British Archives.

[304] Diary of J. Q. Adams, i. 495.

[305] S. Smith to W. C. Nicholas, March 4, 1807; Nicholas MSS.

[306] S. Smith to W. C. Nicholas, March 4, 1807; Nicholas MSS.

[307] Madison to Erskine, March 20, 1807; State Papers, iii. 158.

[308] Same to same, March 29, 1807; Ibid., 159.

[309] Jefferson to Monroe, March 21, 1807; Works, v. 52.

[310] Jefferson to Bowdoin, April 2, 1807; Works, v. 63.

[311] Madison to Jefferson, April 20, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[312] Madison to Jefferson, April 24, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[313] Jefferson to Madison, April 21, 1807; Works, v. 69.

[314] Jefferson to Madison, April 21, 1807; Works, v. 74.

[315] Jefferson to W. B. Giles, April 20, 1807; Works, v. 65.

[316] Jefferson to Hay, June 20, 1807; Works, v. 102.

[317] U. S. _vs._ Kendall, Cranch’s Circuit Court Reports, v. 385.

[318] Jefferson to William Short, June 12, 1807; Works, v. 93. Cf.
Jefferson MSS.

[319] Jefferson to Hay, June 19, 1807; Works, v. 98.

[320] Jefferson to Rodney, June 19, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[321] Major Bruff’s Testimony, Burr’s Trial; Annals of Congress,
1807–1808, pp. 598–600.

[322] Jefferson to Wilkinson, June 21, 1807; Works, v. 109.

[323] Wilkinson’s Memoirs, ii. 6.

[324] Randolph to Nicholson, June 28, 1807; Nicholson MSS.

[325] Randolph to Nicholson, June 25, 1807; Nicholson MSS.

[326] Annals of Congress, Jan. 11, 1808; Session of 1807–1808, p. 1397.

[327] Report of the Committee appointed to inquire into the Conduct
of General Wilkinson, Feb. 26, 1811, pp. 281, 298. Cf. National
Intelligencer, Aug. 3, 1807.

[328] Parton’s Life of Burr, ii. 107.

[329] Hay to Jefferson, June 14, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[330] Randolph to Nicholson, June 25, 1807; Adams’s Randolph, p. 221.

[331] Hay to Jefferson, Aug. 11, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[332] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 315.

[333] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 397.

[334] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 422.

[335] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 373.

[336] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 343.

[337] Jefferson to Hay, Aug. 20. 1807; Works, v. 174.

[338] Blennerhassett Papers, p. 356.

[339] Grigsby’s Tazewell, p. 73.

[340] Burr’s Trial, ii. 193.

[341] Burr’s Trial, ii. 238.

[342] Burr’s Trial, ii. 369.

[343] Hay to Jefferson, Sept. 1, 1807; Jefferson MSS.

[344] Jefferson to Hay, Sept. 4, 1807; Works, v. 187. Cf. Jefferson MSS.

[345] Hay to Jefferson, Oct. 15, 1807; Jefferson MSS.


Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.

3. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the
original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.