p-books.com
Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.
by Benson J. Lossing
Previous Part     1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19     Next Part
Home - Random Browse

Jefferson's correspondence at that period shows the bias of his mind; and, in the light of subsequent experience, while we view him as a true patriot, jealous of his country's rights, we can not but regard him as a monomaniac at that time. He saw in every supporter of Hamilton and his measures a conspirator, or the dupe of a conspirator; and he seemed, vain-gloriously, to believe that his own political perceptions were far keener than those of Washington and all the world beside. To Lafayette he wrote: "A sect has shown itself among us, who declare they espoused our constitution, not as a good and sufficient thing in itself, but only as a step to an English constitution—the only thing good and sufficient in itself, in their eyes. It is happy for us that these are preachers without followers, and that our people are firm and constant in their republican purity. You will wonder to be told that it is from the eastward chiefly that these champions for a king, lords, and commons come. They get some important associates from New York, and are puffed up by a tribe of Agioteurs which have been hatched in a bed of corruption, made up after the model of their beloved England. Too many of these stockjobbers and kingjobbers have come into our legislature—or rather, too many of our legislature have become stockjobbers and kingjobbers. However, the voice of the people is beginning to make itself heard, and will probably cleanse their seats at the next election."

To others he wrote in a similar vein; and he seemed to be constantly haunted by the ghost of kings, lords, and commons, sitting in the seat of the republican president and of the popular Congress.

Washington pondered these things with great anxiety, and on the twenty-ninth of July he wrote a private and confidential letter to Hamilton, in which he set forth, under twenty-one distinct heads, a summary of objections to the measures of the administration, drawn chiefly from Jefferson's letter to the president just alluded to. "These," he said, "as well as my memory serves me, are the sentiments which, directly and indirectly, have been disclosed to me. To obtain light and to pursue truth being my sole aim, and wishing to have before me explanations of, as well as the complaints on, measures in which the public interest, harmony, and peace, are so deeply concerned, and my public conduct so much involved, it is my request, and you would oblige me by furnishing me with your ideas upon the discontents here enumerated; and for this purpose I have thrown them into heads, or sections, and numbered them, that those ideas may be applied to the correspondent numbers."

Hamilton answered in the required form on the eighteenth of August. "You will observe here and there," he remarked in his preface, "some severity appears. I have not fortitude enough always to bear with calmness calumnies which necessarily include me, as a principal agent in the measures censured, of the falsehood of which I have the most unqualified consciousness. I trust I shall always be able to bear as I ought imputations of errors of judgment; but I acknowledge that I can not be entirely patient under charges which impeach the integrity of my public motives or conduct. I feel that I merit them in no degree; and expressions of indignation sometimes escape me in spite of every effort to suppress them. I rely on your goodness for the proper allowances."

He then, under the head of Objections and answers respecting the administration of the government, ably justified all measures which distinguished that administration. When treating upon the charges that "the funding of the debt had furnished effectual means of corruption of such a portion of the legislature as turned the balance between the honest voters whichever way it was directed," he manifested much indignation. "This is one of those assertions," he said, "which can only be denied, and pronounced to be malignant and false. No facts exist to support it. The asserters assume to themselves, and to those who think with them, infallibility. Take their words for it, they are the only honest men in the community." "As far as I know," he said, "there is not a member of the legislature who can properly be called a stockjobber or a paper-dealer. There are several of them who were proprietors of public debt in various ways; some for money lent and property furnished for the use of the public during the war, others for sums received in payment of debts; and it is supposable enough that some of them had been purchasers of the public debt, with intention to hold it as a valuable and convenient property, considering an honorable provision for it as a matter of course.

"It is a strange perversion of ideas, and as novel as it is extraordinary, that men should be deemed corrupt and criminal for becoming proprietors in the funds of their country. Yet I believe the number of members of Congress is very small who have ever been considerable proprietors in the funds. As to improper speculations on measures depending before Congress, I believe never was any body of men freer from them."

To the charge that the federalists contemplated the establishment of a monarchy, Hamilton said: "The idea of introducing a monarchy or aristocracy into this country, by employing the influence and force of a government continually changing hands towards it, is one of those visionary things that none but madmen could meditate, and that no wise man will believe.

"If it could be done at all, which is utterly incredible, it would require a long series of time, certainly beyond the life of any individual, to effect it. Who then would enter into such a plot? for what purpose of interest or ambition?

"To hope that the people may be cajoled into giving their sanctions to such institutions is still more chimerical. A people so enlightened and so diversified as the people of this country can surely never be brought to it but from convulsions and disorders, in consequence of the arts of popular demagogues.

"The truth unquestionably is, that the only path to a subversion of the republican system of the country is by flattering the prejudices of the people, and exciting their jealousies and apprehensions, to throw affairs into confusion and bring on civil commotion. Tired at length of anarchy or want of government, they may take shelter in the arms of monarchy for repose and security."

The rupture between Hamilton and Jefferson was now complete, and the violence of party spirit manifested by the Gazettes of Fenno and Freneau was greatly augmented. The latter became more and more personal in his attacks upon the administration; and Hamilton, who was held up by name as a monarchist at heart, believing that the assaults originated in the hostility of Jefferson, in whose office Freneau was employed, at length turned sharply upon his assailant. Over an anonymous signature he inquired, in Fenno's paper, whether the government salary given to Freneau was paid him for translations, or for calumniating those whom the voice of the nation had called to the administration of public affairs; whether he was rewarded as a public servant, or as a disturber of the public peace by false insinuations. "In common life," he said, "it is thought ungrateful for a man to bite the hand that puts bread in his mouth; but if a man is hired to do it the case is altered."

Again he said, after giving a history of the establishment of Freneau's paper: "An experiment somewhat new in the history of political manoeuvres in this country; a newspaper instituted by a public officer, and the editor of it regularly pensioned with the public money in the disposal of that officer.... But, it may be asked, is it possible that Mr. Jefferson, the head of a principal department of the government, can be the patron of a paper the evident object of which is to decry the government and its measures? If he disapproves of the government itself, and thinks it deserving of his opposition, can he reconcile it to his own personal dignity and the principles of probity to hold an office under it, and employ the means of official influence in that opposition? If he disapproves of the leading measures which have been adopted in the course of his administration, can he reconcile it with the principles of delicacy and propriety to hold a place in that administration, and at the same time to be instrumental in vilifying measures which have been adopted by majorities of both branches of the legislature, and sanctioned by the chief magistrate of the Union?"

This brought out an affidavit from Freneau, in which he exculpated Mr. Jefferson from all complicity in the establishment, the conduct, or the support of his paper.

The feud between Hamilton and Jefferson gave Washington great concern and no little mortification. Both ministers discharged the duties of their respective offices to the entire satisfaction of the president. He had endeavored, on his own part, not to allow his private views to interfere with them in the performance of those duties; but he now found himself compelled to take part in the dispute. That part was the noble one of pacificator. He desired most earnestly to heal the breach, and on the twenty-third of August he wrote to Jefferson on the subject. After referring to the hostilities of the Indians, and the possible intrigues of foreigners to check the growth of the United States, he said:—

"How unfortunate and how much to be regretted is it, that while we are encompassed on all sides with armed enemies and insidious friends, internal dissentions should be harrowing and tearing our vitals. The latter, to me, is the most serious, the most alarming, and the most afflicting of the two; and, without more charity for the opinions and acts of one another in governmental matters, or some more infallible criterion by which the truth of speculative opinions, before they have undergone the test of experience, are to be forejudged, than has yet fallen to the lot of fallibility, I believe it will be difficult, if not impracticable, to manage the reins of government, or to keep the parts of it together; for if, instead of laying our shoulders to the machine after measures are decided on, one pulls this way and another that, before the utility of the thing is fairly tried, it must inevitably be torn asunder, and, in my opinion, the fairest prospect of happiness and prosperity that ever was presented to man will be lost, perhaps for ever.

"My earnest wish and my fondest hope, therefore, is that instead of wounding suspicions and irritating charges there may be liberal allowances, mutual forbearances, and temporizing yieldings on all sides. Under the exercise of these, matters will go on smoothly and, if possible, more prosperously. Without them, everything must rub; the wheels of government will clog; our enemies will triumph, and, by throwing their weight into the disaffected scale, may accomplish the ruin of the goodly fabric we have been erecting.

"I do not mean to apply this advice or these observations to any particular person or character. I have given them in the same general terms to other officers of the government; because the disagreements, which have arisen from difference of opinion, and the attacks which have been made upon almost all the measures of government and most of its executive officers, have for a long time past filled me with painful sensations, and can not fail, I think, of producing unhappy consequences at home and abroad."

To Hamilton he wrote three days afterward, expressing his regret that subjects could not be discussed with temper on the one hand, or decisions submitted to without the motives which led to them improperly implicated on the other. "When matters get to such lengths," he said, "the natural inference is that both sides have strained the cords beyond their bearing, and that a middle course would be found the best, until experience shall have decided on the right way, or (which is not to be expected, because it is denied to mortals) there shall be some infallible rule by which we could forejudge events.

"Having premised these things, I would fain hope that liberal allowances will be made for the political opinions of each other, and, instead of those wounding suspicions and irritating charges with which some of our gazettes are so strongly impregnated, and which can not fail, if persevered in, of pushing matters to extremity and thereby tearing the machine asunder, that there may be mutual forbearance and temporizing yielding on all sides. Without these, I do not see how the reins of government are to be managed, or how the union of the states can be much longer preserved.... My earnest wish is that balsam may be poured into all the wounds which have been given, to prevent them from gangrening, and from those fatal consequences which the community may sustain if it is withheld."

These letters were answered by Hamilton and Jefferson on the same day (September the ninth), one dated at Philadelphia and the other at Monticello. "I most sincerely regret," wrote Hamilton, "the causes of the uneasy sensations you experience. It is my most anxious wish, as far as may depend upon me, to smooth the path of your administration, and to render it prosperous and happy. And if any prospect shall open of healing or terminating the differences which exist, I shall most cheerfully embrace it, though I consider myself as the deeply injured party. The recommendation of such a spirit is worthy of the moderation and wisdom which dictated it. And if your endeavors should prove unsuccessful, I do not hesitate to say that, in my opinion, the period is not remote when the public good will require substitutes for the differing members of your administration. The continuance of a division must destroy the energy of government, which will be little enough with the strictest union. On my part there will be the most cheerful acquiescence in such a result.

"I trust, sir, that the greatest frankness has always marked, and will always mark, every step of my conduct toward you. In this disposition, I can not conceal from you that I have had some instrumentality of late in the retaliations which have fallen upon certain public characters, and that I find myself placed in a situation not to be able to recede for the present.

"I considered myself as compelled to this conduct by reasons, public as well as personal, of the most cogent nature. I know that I have been an object of uniform opposition from Mr. Jefferson, from the moment of his coming to the city of New York to enter upon his present office. I know from the most authentic sources that I have been the frequent subject of the most unkind whispers and insinuations from the same quarter. I have long seen a formed party in the legislature, under his auspices, bent upon my subversion. I can not doubt, from the evidence I possess, that the National Gazette was instituted by him for political purposes, and that one leading object of it has been to render me and all the measures connected with my department as odious as possible. Nevertheless, I can truly say, that, except explanations to confidential friends, I never, directly or indirectly, retaliated or countenanced retaliation till very lately. I can even assure you that I was instrumental in preventing a very severe and systematic attack upon Mr. Jefferson by an association of two or three individuals, in consequence of the persecution which he brought upon the vice-president by his indiscreet and light letter to the printer, transmitting Paine's pamphlet.

"As long as I saw no danger to the government from the machinations which were going on, I resolved to be a silent sufferer of the injuries which were done me. I determined to avoid giving occasion to anything which could manifest to the world dissentions among the principal characters of the government—a thing which can never happen without weakening its hands, and in some degree throwing a stigma upon it.

"But when I no longer doubted that there was a formed party deliberately bent upon the subversion of measures, which in its consequences would subvert the government; when I saw that the undoing of the funding system in particular (which, whatever may be the original merits of that system, would prostrate the credit and honor of the nation, and bring the government into contempt with that description of men who are in every society the only firm supporters of government) was an avowed object of the party, and that all possible pains were taking to produce that effect by rendering it odious to the body of the people, I considered it as a duty to endeavor to resist the torrent, and, as an effectual means to this end, to draw aside the veil from the principal actors. To this strong impulse, to this decided conviction, I have yielded, and I think events will prove that I have judged rightly.

"Nevertheless, I pledge my honor to you, sir, that if you shall hereafter form a plan to reunite the members of your administration upon some steady principle of co-operation, I will faithfully concur in executing it during my continuance in office; and I will not, directly or indirectly, say or do anything that shall endanger a feud."

Mr. Jefferson answered Washington, that no one regretted the dissentions in the cabinet more than himself. "Though I take to myself," he said, "no more than my share of the general observations of your letter, yet I am so desirous even that you should know the whole truth, and believe no more than the whole truth, that I am glad to seize every occasion of developing to you whatever I do or think relative to the government, and shall therefore ask permission to be more lengthy now than the occasion particularly calls for, or would otherwise, perhaps, justify.

"When I embarked in the government, it was with a determination to intermeddle not at all with the legislature, and as little as possible with my co-departments. The first and only instance of variance from the former part of my resolution I was duped into by the secretary of the treasury, and made a tool for forwarding his schemes, not then sufficiently understood by me; and of all the errors of my political life, this has occasioned me the deepest regret.... If it has been supposed that I have ever intrigued among the members of the legislature to defeat the plans of the secretary of the treasury, it is contrary to all truth.... That I have utterly, in my private conversations, disapproved of the system of the secretary of the treasury I acknowledge and avow; and this was not merely a speculative difference. His system flowed from principles adverse to liberty, and was calculated to undermine and demolish the republic by creating an influence of his department over the members of the legislature. I saw this influence actually produced, and its first fruits to be the establishment of the great outlines of his project, by the votes of the very persons who, having swallowed his bait, were laying themselves out to profit by his plans; and that, had these persons withdrawn, as those interested in a question ever should, the vote of the disinterested majority was clearly the reverse of what they made it. These were no longer the votes, then, of the representatives of the people, but of deserters from the rights and interests of the people."

Mr. Jefferson then proceeded to justify his opinions and conduct, and to defend himself against Hamilton's charges in Fenno's paper, which were: first, that he (Jefferson) had written letters from Europe to his friends in America to oppose the constitution while it was depending; second, with a desire not to pay the public debt; third, with setting up a paper to decry and slander the government. Jefferson pronounced all these charges false. He declared that no man approved of more of the constitution than himself—vastly more than Hamilton did; and that he was ever anxious to pay the public debt. "This," he said, "makes exactly the difference between Colonel Hamilton's views and my own. I would wish the debt paid to-morrow; he wishes it never to be paid, but always to be a thing wherewith to corrupt and manage the legislature."

Mr. Jefferson acknowledged that he favored the establishment of Freneau's newspaper for reasons already alluded to,[38] because he thought juster views of European affairs might be obtained through publications from the Leyden Gazette than any other foreign source.

"On the establishment of his paper," said Mr. Jefferson, "I furnished him with the Leyden Gazettes, with an expression of my wish that he would always translate and publish the material intelligence they contained; and I continued to furnish them from time to time, as regularly as I received them. But as to any other direction or indication of my wish, how his press should be conducted, what sort of intelligence he should give, what essays encourage, I can protest, in the presence of Heaven, that I never did by myself or any other, directly or indirectly, write, dictate, or procure any one sentiment or sentence to be inserted in his or any other gazette, to which my name was not affixed, or that of my office."

While Jefferson avowed his desire for harmony in the cabinet, he felt the lash of Hamilton too keenly to accept reconciliation with him. He avowed his intention to retire from his office at the close of the president's term; and intimating an intention to make an appeal to the country over his own signature, he said: "To a thorough disregard of the honors and emoluments of office I join as great a value for the esteem of my countrymen; and conscious of having merited it by an integrity which can not be reproached, and by an enthusiastic devotion to their rights and liberty, I will not suffer my retirement to be clouded by the slanders of a man whose history, from the moment at which history can stoop to notice him, is a tissue of machinations against the liberty of the country which has not only received and given him bread, but heaped its honors on his head."[39]

The spirit of Jefferson's letter afforded Washington no hope for reconciliation between the secretaries. The contrast between his and Hamilton's was remarkable. Hamilton held affectionate, courteous, forbearing, and patriotic language toward the president; Jefferson's exhibited much of the opposite qualities; and his implacable hatred of the man whom he had scourged into active retaliation is very marked. It gave Washington great pain, for he had the highest esteem for the contestants.

At that time there were grave reasons why officers of the cabinet should for the moment forget personal difficulties, and come as a unit to the aid of the president. There were signs of disorder, and violence, and serious insurrection in the land. The excise law enacted in 1791, and modified and made less offensive during the last session of Congress, was yet vehemently opposed in some parts of the country. In western Pennsylvania, in particular, hostility to it had become the sentiment of an organized party, and combinations were formed to prevent the execution of it. A public meeting was held at Pittsburgh on the twenty-first of August, at which resolutions were adopted disapproving of the law, and appointing a committee to correspond with other committees in different parts of the Union on the subject. It was really a rebellious movement, as the temper of their closing resolution indicated.[40]

Information of these proceedings having reached the secretary of the treasury, he sent to the president all necessary papers on the subject for his information, assuring him that he should submit to the attorney-general the question whether the persons composing the meeting at Pittsburgh had not committed an indictable offence. He gave it as his opinion that it was expedient to exert the full form of the law against the offenders. "If this is not done," he said, "the spirit of disobedience will naturally extend, and the authority of the government will be prostrated. Moderation enough has been shown: it is time to assume a different tune." In subsequent letters he recommends the issuing of a proclamation on the subject by the president, and sent a draft of one to Washington. The president approved the measure, submitted it to Jefferson, and on the fifteenth of September he issued a proclamation, countersigned by the secretary of state, in which he warned all persons to desist from such unlawful combinations and proceedings, and requiring all courts, magistrates, and officers to bring the offenders to justice. Copies of this proclamation were sent to the governor of Pennsylvania, and also to the chief magistrates of North and South Carolina, where a similar defiance of law has been manifested.

In this matter Washington proceeded with great prudence and caution. He felt indignant at the great outrage thus offered to the government, but was unwilling to employ force while more peaceful measures were left untried. "I have no doubt," he said, "the proclamation will undergo many strictures; and, as the effect proposed may not be answered by it, it will be necessary to look forward in time to ulterior arrangements:" that is to say, the employment of regular troops as a last resort.

As Washington intimated it might not, the proclamation produced no salutary effect. Too many of the civil magistrates themselves were concerned in the insurrectionary movements, and the few who were not were totally incapable of maintaining the sovereignty of the laws. With moderation the government instituted legal proceedings against the offenders; liquors distilled in the rebellious counties were seized on their way to market by revenue officers; and the agents of the army were directed to purchase only those spirits upon which a duty had been paid. Having their interests thus touched, the manufacturers of liquors would gladly have complied with the laws, but the people would not allow them. Subsequently, more serious defiance of the laws in western Pennsylvania compelled the president to order a military force into that region. This we will consider hereafter.

At the middle of October, Washington made another and last effort to restore peace to his cabinet. Jefferson had recently returned to Philadelphia, and his first care was to forward to the president extracts from his letter written while the adoption of the constitution was pending, Washington wrote to him on the eighteenth, and said: "I did not require the evidence of the extracts, which you enclosed to me, to convince me of your attachment to the constitution of the United States, or of your disposition to promote the general welfare of this country: but I regret, deeply regret, the difference in opinions which have divided you and another principal officer of the government, and I wish devoutly there would be an accommodation of them by mutual yieldings.

"A measure of this sort would produce harmony and consequent good in our public councils. The contrary will inevitably introduce confusion and serious mischiefs—and for what? Because mankind can not think alike, but would adopt different means to attain the same end. For I will frankly and solemnly declare, that I believe the views of both of you to be pure and well meant, and that experience only will decide with respect to the salutariness of the measures which are the subjects of dispute. Why, then, when some of the best citizens in the United States—men of discernment, uniform and tried patriots, who have no sinister views to promote, but are chaste in their ways of thinking and acting—are to be found some on one side and some on the other of the questions which have caused these agitations, should either of you be so tenacious of your opinions as to make no allowances for those of the other? I could, and indeed was about to, add more on this interesting subject, but will forbear, at least for the present, after expressing a wish that the cup which has been presented to us may not be snatched from our lips by a discordance of action, when I am persuaded there is no discordance in your views. I have a great, a sincere esteem and regard for you both, and ardently wish that some line may be marked out by which both of you could walk."

Washington's efforts were unavailing. The breach between Hamilton and Jefferson was too wide and deep to be healed, and the president determined to check, as much as possible, if he could not control their hostility. In one thing, however, these men, sincere patriots at heart, perfectly agreed, namely, a desire that Washington should consent to a re-election. As we have already observed, such being the universal wish of the people, Washington reluctantly consented, and he was again chosen president of the United States by a unanimous vote of the electoral college.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] See page 198

[39] For the correspondence in full, see Hamilton's Works, volume iv; Sparks's Life and Writings of Washington, volume x; Randall's Life of Jefferson, volume ii.

[40] The following is the resolution referred to: "That, whereas some men may be found amongst us, so far lost to every sense of virtue and feeling for the distresses of this country as to accept offices for the collection of the duty: Resolved, that in future we will consider such persons as unworthy of our friendship, have no intercourse or dealings with them, withdraw from them every assistance, withhold all the comforts of life which depend upon those duties that as men and fellow-citizens we owe to each other, and upon all occasions treat them with that contempt they deserve; and that it be, and is hereby, most earnestly recommended to the people at large to follow the same line of conduct toward them."



CHAPTER XIX.

FOREIGN RELATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES—EUROPE AND THE UNITED STATES—THE FEDERALISTS A CONSERVATIVE PARTY—ASPECT OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION—WASHINGTON DOUBTS ITS SUCCESS—INCREASE OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY—WASHINGTON'S RE-ELECTION—GOUVERNEUR MORRIS IN FRANCE—OTHER MINISTERS—GLOOMY FOREBODINGS—JEFFERSON'S IMPATIENCE—TROUBLES OF THE FRENCH KING—LAFAYETTE IN DIFFICULTY—TUILLERIES ATTACKED AND THE KING DETHRONED—REIGN OF TERROR—LAFAYETTE'S FLIGHT, ARREST, AND IMPRISONMENT—BLOODY WORK IN PARIS—JEFFERSON JUSTIFIES THE JACOBINS—WASHINGTON'S SYMPATHY FOR LAFAYETTE'S FAMILY—APPEAL OF THE MARCHIONESS—WASHINGTON POWERLESS TO AID.

The foreign relations of the United States were at this time peculiar and somewhat anomalous. Popular sentiment, the expression of the sovereignty of the nation, was mixed in character and yet crude in form, and it was difficult to discern precisely in what relation it stood to the disturbed nationalities of Europe. Separated from the old world by a vast ocean, the public mind here was not so immediately and powerfully acted upon by passing events as it would have been, if only an imaginary line of political demarcation had been drawn between the new republic and convulsed communities; and its manifestations were less demonstrative than implied.

All Europe was effervescing with antagonistic ideas; and the wisest and the best men in the old world stood in wonder and awe in the midst of the upheaval of social and political systems that were hoary with age, and apparently as settled in their places as the oceans and continents. France, the old ally and friend of the United States, was the centre of the volcanic force that was shaking the nations; and with instinctive motion the potentates, alarmed for the stability of their thrones, had assumed the attitude of implacable enemies to the new power that was bearing rule in that kingdom. As the car of revolution rolled onward, carrying King Louis to the scaffold, they felt the hot breath of avenging justice upon their own foreheads, and they called out their legions for defence and to utter a solemn and effective protest. The people were awed in the presence of gleaming bayonets. In the autumn of 1792, nearly all Europe was in arms against France.

In the United States, where revolution had done its work nobly and wisely, and the experiment of self-government was working successfully, sympathy for the struggling people of France and of all Europe was powerful and untrammelled. Without inquiry, it cheered on the patriots of France, with Lafayette at their head, when they were struggling for a constitution; and when it was gained, and the king accepted it, great satisfaction was felt by every American citizen in whose bosom glowed the love of freedom for its own sake. With this feeling was mingled a dislike of Great Britain; first, because the remembrance of her oppression and her warfare against the independence of the United States were fresh in the minds of the American people; secondly, because her government yet refused compliance with the terms of a solemn treaty made ten years before; and, thirdly, because her attitude was hostile to the republican movement in France. Thus old alliances and old hatreds, and a desire to see all people free, made those of the United States sympathize strongly with those of France in their revolutionary movements, and to hate the enemies of that nation in its avowed struggle for liberty.

But there were wise, and prudent, and thoughtful men in the United States, who had made the science of government a study, and human nature their daily reading, who perceived principles of self-destruction in the French constitution. They saw its want of balances, and the course of the representatives under it, which must inevitably allow the gallery to rule the legislature, and mobs to give color to the opinions of the executive. They clearly perceived, what Lafayette and his compatriots had already deeply lamented, that the true elements of self-government did not belong to the French nation; that with liberty they were rapidly degenerating into licentiousness; and that the constitution must prove as powerless as a rope of sand in restraining the passions of the people. And some of them, as we have seen, who wrote or spoke in favor of a well-balanced and potent government were branded by ungenerous men as the advocates of royalty and aristocracy, and held up to the people as traitors to republicanism, and fit subjects for the finger of scorn to point at. They were charged with blind prejudice in favor of British institutions, and as conspirators for the re-establishment of British rule in America. But the conservative or federal party, as they were called, were more powerful if not so numerous as their opponents; and when Europe armed against the old ally of the United States, the government of the latter, professedly representing the popular sentiment, was so restrained by the wise caution of those who held the sceptre of political power, that it presented the anomalous character of a warm-hearted, deeply-sympathizing champion of freedom, apparently in the ranks of the enemies of liberty.

Washington had hailed with satisfaction the dawn of popular liberty in France, and earnestly desired the success of those who were working for the establishment of republicanism there; but his wisdom and sagacity evidently made him doubtful of their success, even from the beginning. In the course of his correspondence, we find him often expressing earnest wishes for the happy results concerning which Lafayette had dreamed so fondly, but he never expressed a hope, because he never felt it; and when, in the summer and autumn of 1792, the Revolution in France assumed a bloody and ferocious character, and the noble goal toward which his friend the marquis had so enthusiastically pressed was utterly lost sight of in the midst of the lurid smoke of a self-constituted tyranny, as bad in feature and act as the foulest on history's records, he was disgusted, and with the conservative party, then fortunately holding the reins of executive and legislative power, he resolved that the government of the United States should stand aloof from all entanglements with European politics.

The doctrines of Jefferson and his party, having sympathy with the French Revolution and enmity to Great Britain among its prime elements, was rapidly gaining ground in the United States, because the avowed principles of that party were in accordance with the proclivities of the great mass of the people, who were moved by passion rather than by reason. Yet that very people, although aware of the sentiments of Washington and his supporters in the government, re-elected him by unanimous voice, thereby showing their great love for, and unbounded confidence in, the man of men. John Adams, who was again a candidate for the vice-presidency, was opposed by Governor George Clinton of New York, and was elected by not a large majority. He received in the electoral college seventy votes, and Clinton fifty. The Kentucky electors voted for Jefferson for the same office, and one vote was cast by a South Carolina delegate for Aaron Burr.

We have just hinted at the progress of violence in France in the autumn of 1792. Let us take a nearer view for a moment; for such scrutiny is necessary to the elucidation of political events in the United States a few months later.

Gouverneur Morris, who, as we have seen, was sent on a semi-official embassy to England, was appointed full minister at the French court, after Jefferson's retirement from that post. Mr. Morris was a federalist, and his appointment was not pleasant to Mr. Jefferson and his political friends. With Morris's commission, the president wrote a friendly, and at the same time admonitory, letter to the new minister. He frankly enumerated all the objections that had been made to his appointment, and intimated that he thought the charge of his being a favorite with the aristocracy in France, and anti-republican in his sentiments, especially as regarded the French Revolution, were too well founded upon the tenor of his conduct. "Not to go further into detail," he said, "I will place the ideas of your political adversaries in the light in which their arguments have presented them to me, namely: that the promptitude with which your lively and brilliant imagination displays itself allows too little time for deliberation and correction, and is the primary cause of those sallies which too often offend, and of that ridicule of character which begets enmity not easy to be forgotten, but which might easily be avoided if it were under the control of more caution and prudence. In a word, that it is indispensably necessary that more circumspection should be observed by our representatives abroad than they conceive you are inclined to adopt. In this statement you have the pros and cons. By reciting them I give you a proof of my friendship, if I give none of my policy or judgment. I do it on the presumption that a mind conscious of its own rectitude fears not what is said of it, but will bid defiance to shafts, that are not baited with accusations against honor or integrity. Of my good opinion and of my friendship and regard you may be assured."

Count de Moustier had been succeeded as French minister to the United States by M. Ternant, a more agreeable gentleman; and diplomatic intercourse had been opened with Great Britain, by the arrival of Mr. Hammond as minister plenipotentiary of that government, in the previous autumn, and the appointment, on the part of the United States, of Thomas Pinckney, of South Carolina, as minister to the court of St. James. Mr. Hammond was the first minister Great Britain had deigned to send to the United States, and John Adams was the only person who had been sent in the same capacity from his government to the British court. For some years there had been no diplomatic intercourse between the two countries.

Mr. Morris arrived in Paris, in May, 1792, and on the second of June he was introduced to the king and queen. Two days afterward he presented a letter from the president to his majesty—a letter which, according to Morris, gave several members of the corps diplomatique a high idea of Washington's wisdom. "It is not relished by the democrats," Morris wrote to the president, "who particularly dislike the term 'your people;' but it suits well the prevailing temper, which is monarchical." Mr. Morris was very active in his duties there; and while he communicated officially to Jefferson and Hamilton everything necessary for them to know, he kept Washington constantly apprized, by both public and private letters, of the true state of affairs in France, His accounts revealed shocking scenes of anarchy and licentiousness in the French capital. He truly represented that Lafayette, in endeavoring to check excesses, had lost his popularity. "Were he to appear just now in Paris," he wrote, "unattended by his army, he would be torn to pieces." These tidings gave Washington great concern; while Jefferson, because of the gloomy future which these letters foreshadowed and the unfavorable commentary which they made upon the French Revolution, was very impatient. With his blind devotion to democracy, and his ungenerous judgment concerning all who differed from him, he spoke of Morris as "a high-flying monarchy man, shutting his eyes and his faith to every fact against his wishes, and believing everything he desired to be true," and keeping the president's mind "constantly poisoned with his forebodings."

Almost the next vessel from Europe rebuked these unfair expressions, by confirming the most gloomy anticipations of Morris. Anarchy had seized upon unhappy France. From the head of his army at Maubeuge, Lafayette had sent a letter to the National Assembly, denouncing in unmeasured terms the conduct of the Jacobin club as inimical to the king and constitution; but it was of no avail. Day after day the disorder in the capital increased; and on the twentieth of June the populace, one hundred thousand in number, professedly incensed because the king had refused to sanction a decree of the National Assembly against the priesthood, and another for the establishment of a camp of twenty thousand men near Paris, marched to the Tuilleries with pikes, swords, muskets, and artillery, and demanded entrance. The gates were finally thrown open, and at least forty thousand armed men went through the palace and compelled the king, in the presence of his family, to put the bonnet rouge, or red cap of liberty, upon his head.

Hearing of these movements, Lafayette hastened to Paris, presented himself at the bar of the National Assembly, and in the name of the army demanded the punishment of those who had thus insulted the king in his palace and violated the constitution. But he was powerless. A party had determined to abolish royalty. On the third of August, Pelion, in the Assembly, demanded that the king should be excluded from the throne. The unhappy monarch, perceiving the destructive storm that was impending, endeavored on the sixth to escape from the Tuilleries in the garb of a peasant. He was discovered by a sentinel, and all Paris was thrown into the greatest commotion. Two days afterward the Assembly, by a handsome majority, acquitted Lafayette of serious charges made against him by the Jacobins. The populace were dissatisfied, and, as they could not touch the general, they determined that the king whom he supported should be deposed. Members of the assembly who had voted in favor of Lafayette were insulted by armed men who surrounded the legislative hall; and the national legislature declared their sitting permanent until order should be restored.

At midnight on the ninth of August the tocsin was sounded in every quarter, and the generale was beat. Early the next morning the Tuilleries were attacked by the populace, and the king and his family, attended by the Swiss guard, fled for protection to the National Assembly. In the conflict that ensued nearly every man of that guard was butchered, and the National Assembly decreed the suspension of the king's authority.

Monarchy in France was now overthrown, and with it fell Lafayette and the constitutional party. All were involved in one common ruin. The Jacobins denounced the marquis in the National Assembly, procured a decree for his arrest, and sent emissaries to seize him. Then the Reign of Terror was inaugurated.

At first Lafayette resolved to go to Paris and boldly confront his accusers. It would have been madness. He perceived it, and, yielding to the force of circumstances, set off from his camp at Sedan, with a few faithful friends, to seek a temporary asylum in Holland until he could make his way to the United States. But he and his companions were first detained at Rochefort, the first Austrian post, and afterward cast into a dungeon at Olmutz.

When intelligence of these events reached Washington he was greatly shocked, and the sad fate of his friend grieved him sorely. Every arrival from Europe brought tidings still more dreadful than the last. "We have had a week of unchecked murders," Morris wrote to Jefferson on the tenth of September, "in which some thousands have perished in this city. It began with two or three hundred of the clergy, who had been shut up because they would not take the oaths prescribed by the law, and which they said were contrary to their conscience. Thence these executors of speedy justice went to the Abbaye, where the persons were confined who were at court on the tenth of August. These were despatched also, and afterward they visited the other prisons. All those who were confined either on the accusation or suspicion of crimes were destroyed."

Morris then detailed other horrors; yet Mr. Jefferson, looking upon the whole movement against monarchy and aristocracy as essentially right, and based upon the same principles as that of the American Revolution, persisted in regarding the Jacobins, who were the chief promoters of these bloody deeds, and who had laid violent hands on the constitution and its supporters, as "republican patriots." He was shocked, but was neither disappointed nor very sorrowful. He looked upon the whole affair as an indispensable struggle of freemen in the abolition of monarchy and all its prerogatives and injustice; and he deplored the death of the innocent who had fallen, but only as he should have done "had they fallen in battle." "The liberty of the whole earth," he said, "was depending on the issue of the contest; and was ever such a prize won with so little innocent blood? My own affections have been deeply wounded by some of the martyrs to this cause," he continued; "but rather than that it should have failed, I would have seen half the earth desolated. Were there but an Adam and Eve left in every country, and left free, it would have been better than it now is."

When fully assured of Lafayette's fate, Washington felt an ardent desire to befriend his family, consisting of his wife and young children. He knew that their situation, in the raging storm, must be dreadful at the best; and on the first information of their probable residence, at the close of January, 1793, he addressed the following letter to the marchioness:—

"If I had words that could convey to you an adequate idea of my feelings on the present situation of the Marquis de Lafayette, this letter would appear to you in a different garb. The sole object in writing to you now is, to inform you that I have deposited in the hands of Mr. Nicholas Van Staphorst, of Amsterdam, two thousand three hundred and ten guilders, Holland currency, equal to two hundred guineas, subject to your orders.

"This sum is, I am certain, the least I am indebted for services rendered to me by the Marquis de Lafayette, of which I never yet have received the account. I could add much; but it is best, perhaps, that I should say little on this subject. Your goodness will supply my deficiency.

"The uncertainty of your situation, after all the inquiries I have made, has occasioned a delay in this address and remittance; and, even now, the measure adopted is more the effect of a desire to find where you are, than from any knowledge I have obtained of your residence."

Soon after this letter was despatched, Washington received one from the marchioness, dated at Chavaniac on the eighth of October, 1792, which came by the way of England. It was accompanied by a letter from an English farmer who had resided several months in the family of Lafayette, in which, speaking of the marchioness, he said: "Her present situation is truly affecting; separated from her husband without the means of hearing from him, herself in captivity under the safeguard of the municipality, she is anxiously expecting the decision of his and her own destiny. Under these circumstances, she relies on your influence to adopt such measures as may effectuate their mutual freedom."

The marchioness was then a prisoner, in utter ignorance of the real fate of her husband. She had been commanded by the Jacobins to repair to Paris about the time when the attack was made upon the Tuilleries and the destruction of the Swiss guard; but they subsequently allowed her to reside at the place from which her letter was dated. In that letter she made a solemn appeal to Washington and the nation to aid her in procuring the liberty of her husband. "He was taken by the troops of the emperor," she said, "although the king of Prussia retains him a prisoner in his dominions. And while he suffers this inconceivable persecution from the enemies without, the faction which reigns within keeps me a hostage at one hundred and twenty leagues from the capital. Judge, then, at what distance I am from him. In this abyss of misery, the idea of owing to the United States and to Washington the life and liberty of M. de Lafayette kindles a ray of hope in my heart. I hope everything from the goodness of the people with whom he has set an example of that liberty of which he is now made the victim. And shall I dare speak what I hope? I would ask of them through you for an envoy, who shall go to reclaim him in the name of the republic of the United States wheresoever he may be found, and who shall be authorized to make, with the power in whose charge he may be placed, all necessary engagements for his release, and for taking him to the United States, even if he is there to be guarded as a captive. If his wife and his children could be comprised in this mission, it is easy to judge how happy it would be for her and for them; but if this would in the least degree retard or embarrass the measure, we will defer still longer the happiness of a reunion. May Heaven deign to bless the confidence with which it has inspired me! I hope my request is not a rash one."

Washington was powerless to aid his friend. His heart yearned to do so, but there were no means that, in the then political condition of Europe, could be used with any hope of success, except giving unofficial instructions to American ministers abroad to make every effort in their power to procure his release, and this was done. "The United States," says Sparks, "had neither authority to make demands, nor power to enforce them. They had no immediate intercourse with Prussia or Austria, and were in no condition to ask the favors or avenge the tyranny of the rulers of those countries, who were only responsible for the treatment of Lafayette, and whose pleasure it was, if not their policy and interest, to keep him in chains."

The whole matter was very painful to Washington, especially as a great delay in his letter made the marchioness feel that she was neglected by her husband's dearest friend, and that husband deserted by the nation for whose freedom he had so nobly fought. Referring to a former letter, she said:—

"Has this letter reached you? Was it necessary that it should arrive to excite your interest? I can not believe it. But I confess that your silence, and the abandonment of M. de Lafayette and his family for the last six months, are of all our evils the most inexplicable to me." Then assuring Washington that the fate of her husband was in a measure in the hands of the president and government of the United States, and that she, not allowed to have any communication with him, could do nothing for him, she said, "I will only add that my confidence in General Washington, though severely tried, remains firm, and that I dare make to him a tender of my homage, and of my high esteem of his character."

Although Lafayette was a citizen of the United States, an American officer, and no more in the French service, his adopted government could do nothing effectual in his behalf, and for three years he lay in the dungeon at Olmutz. His wife and daughter were permitted to share his dungeon life; and finally his eldest son, bearing the name of Washington, came to seek an asylum in the United States. His reception here we shall consider hereafter.



CHAPTER XX.

CLOUDS GATHERING—JEALOUSY OF EXECUTIVE INFLUENCE—ANGRY PARTY DEBATES—CALLS FOR INFORMATION RESPECTING FINANCIAL AFFAIRS—HAMILTON CHARGED WITH BEING A DEFAULTER—HIS REPLY AND THE RESULT—VENERATION FOR WASHINGTON TOUCHED BY PARTY RANCOR—FORMS TO BE OBSERVED AT HIS SECOND INAUGURATION—THE CEREMONY—ACCOUNT BY AN EYE-WITNESS—WASHINGTON CALLED TO MOUNT VERNON—DEATH OF HIS NEPHEW—INTELLIGENCE OF DECLARATION OF WAR AGAINST ENGLAND BY FRANCE—OF THE DEATH OF KING LOUIS—EXCITEMENT IN THE UNITED STATES IN FAVOR OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTIONISTS—POPULAR MANIFESTATIONS OF SYMPATHY IN BOSTON AND ELSEWHERE—DANGEROUS TENDENCY OF THAT SYMPATHY—CITIZEN GENET AND HIS MISSION—WASHINGTON HASTENS BACK TO PHILADELPHIA—CABINET COUNCIL—PROCLAMATION OF NEUTRALITY—OPPOSITION TO THE MEASURE.

When the last session of the second Congress commenced in Philadelphia on the fifth of November, 1792, ominous clouds were gathering in the political horizon, which gave Washington many apprehensions of an impending storm. Party spirit was growing more and more violent; war with the Indians in the Northwest was progressing; discontents with the operations of the excise laws were assuming alarming aspects; the attitude of the European governments brought serious questions to those who controlled public affairs in the United States; and the cabinet, where unity of feeling was necessary in order to counsel the president well, was yet torn by dissentions, with no prospect of their being healed.

There was much apparent good feeling among the members of Congress when they first met, but action upon public business soon aroused party spirit in all its rancor. It was first summoned from its sleep by a motion for the secretaries of war and of the treasury to attend the house, and give such information as they might possess concerning the conduct of the Indian war in the Northwest, with which there was much public dissatisfaction. This proposition raised a cry of alarm from those in the house opposed to the administration. It was resisted as unconstitutional, and threatening to subject the house to executive influence that might be dangerous—that heads of departments would control the legislature.

A motion to refer the portion of the president's message relating to the redemption of the public debt to the secretary of the treasury, to report a plan, called forth still more angry opposition, and Jefferson's charges of corruption were heard on every side. The secretary of the treasury was violently assailed; and dark insinuations were made that members of the house were implicated with Hamilton in dishonest proceedings in relation to the assumption of state debts, the operation of the Indian war, etc. And when Hamilton, in his report, offered a scheme for the redemption of the public debt that effectually silenced the clamors of his enemies, who had insisted that he regarded that debt as a public blessing and meant to fix it upon the country as an incubus, they changed their plans of opposition.

They called upon the president first for particular information as to the several sums of money borrowed by his authority, the terms of the loans, and the application of the money. These questions being explicitly answered, another call was made by an unscrupulous member of the opposition, from Virginia, for more minute information upon financial matters. He made an elaborate speech in presenting the motion, in which, in effect, he charged the secretary of the treasury with being a defaulter to the amount of a million and a half of dollars! Other charges having a similar bearing upon the integrity of Hamilton were made, and the administration was most foully aspersed. The speaker—acting, it was believed, under the influence of his superiors in office—based his charges upon the letter of returns and other treasury statements.

These charges were met by Hamilton in a calm and dignified report, which ought to have disarmed malignity and made implacable party spirit hide its head in shame. It was baffled for a moment, but not dismayed; and, selecting points in the secretary's management of the financial concerns of the government, the accuser already alluded to proceeded to frame nine resolutions of censure, for which he asked the vote of the house. The result was, says a careful and candid historian, "much to raise the character of the secretary of the treasury, by convincing the great body of impartial men, capable of understanding the subject, that, both as regarded talent and integrity, he was admirably qualified for his office, and that the multiplied charges against him had been engendered by envy, suspicion, and ignorance."[41]

Up to this time, the opposition had not ventured to show any disrespect to Washington. He had wisely avoided assuming in any degree the character of a leader of a party, and had labored with conscientious zeal for the public good, without the least regard to private friendships, or with feelings of enmity toward personal friends who had deserted his administration. Madison was now a leader of the opposition, yet Washington esteemed him none the less, because he believed him to be honest and patriotic.

But now, party rancor was gradually usurping the place of that veneration which every man felt for the character of Washington; and that jealousy of everything aristocratic in fact or appearance which was at that moment inaugurating a republic in France, with a baptism of blood, hesitated not to show personal disrespect to the president. The people in different parts of the Union, with spontaneous affection, prepared to celebrate the birthday of Washington on the twenty-second of February, 1793, with balls, parties, visits of congratulation, etc. Many members of Congress were desirous of waiting upon the president, in testimony of their respect for the chief magistrate of the republic, and a motion was made to adjourn for half an hour for that purpose, when quite an acrimonious debate ensued. The opposition, with real or feigned alarm, denounced the proposition as a species of homage unworthy of republicans; a tendency to monarchy; the setting up of an idol for hero-worship, dangerous to the liberties of the nation! Freneau's paper condemned the birthday celebration; and in view of the great dangers to which the republic was exposed by the monarchical bias of many leading men, a New Jersey member of the republican party in the house moved that the mace carried by the marshall on state occasions—"an unmeaning symbol, unworthy the dignity of a republican government"—be sent to the mint, broken up, and the silver coined and placed in the treasury. The peculiar state of public feeling at that time, irritated by prophets of evil, affords a reasonable excuse for these jealousies.

Washington was not unmindful of these signs, and the necessity of paying due respect even to the prejudices of the people; and as the time for his second inauguration was drawing near, he asked the opinions of his cabinet concerning the forms to be used on that occasion. Jefferson and Hamilton proposed that he should take the oath of office privately at his own house, a certificate of the fact to be deposited in the state department. Knox and Randolph proposed to have the ceremony in public, but without any ostentatious display. Washington's opinion coincided with the latter; and at a cabinet meeting held on the first of March, Mr. Jefferson being the only absentee, it was agreed that the oath should be administered by Judge Cushing, of the supreme court of the United States, in public, in the senate chamber, on the fourth of the month, at twelve o'clock at noon, and that the "president go without form, attended by such gentlemen as he shall choose, and return without form except that he be preceded by the marshall."

Accordingly, a little before twelve o'clock, the president rode from his residence to the Congress hall in his cream-colored coach drawn by six horses, preceded by the marshall, as proposed, and accompanied by a great concourse of citizens, and took the oath in the senate chamber. The heads of departments, foreign ministers, members of Congress, and as many spectators as could find room in the apartment, were present. Previous to the administration of the oath by Judge Cushing, Washington arose and said:—

"Fellow-citizens: I am again called upon by the voice of my country to execute the functions of its chief magistrate. When the occasion proper for it shall arrive, I shall endeavor to express the high sense I entertain of this distinguished honor, and of the confidence which has been reposed in me by the people of the United States of America. Previous to the execution of any official act of the president, the constitution requires an oath of office. This oath I am now about to take, and in your presence; that if it shall be found, during my administration of the government, I have in any instance violated, willingly or knowingly, the injunction thereof, I may, besides incurring constitutional punishment, be subject to the upbraidings of all who are now witnesses of the present solemn ceremony."

The oath was then administered, and the president returned to his residence as he came.[42]

It was with sincere reluctance that Washington entered upon the duties of the office of chief magistrate of the nation for a second term. "To you," he said in a letter to Colonel Humphreys (then abroad) soon after his inauguration—"To you, who know my love of retirement and domestic life, it is unnecessary to say, that in accepting this reappointment I relinquish those personal enjoyments to which I am peculiarly attached. The motives which induced my acceptance are the same which ever ruled my decision when the public desire—or, as my countrymen are pleased to denominate it, the public good—was placed in the scale against my personal enjoyments and private interest. The latter I have ever considered as subservient to the former; and perhaps in no instance of my life have I been more sensible of the sacrifice than at the present; for at my age the love of retirement grows every day more and more powerful, and the death of my nephew will, I apprehend, cause my private concerns to suffer very much."[43]

On account of this death, Washington made a hurried visit to Mount Vernon in April, and while there the important intelligence reached him that France had declared war against England and Holland, an event which prophesied a general European war. Almost simultaneously with this intelligence came that of the execution of King Louis, by order of the National Convention of France. The king, who had been a mere shuttle-cock of faction for two years, was beheaded on the twenty-first of January, with circumstances of brutality which make humanity shudder. His death had been long predestinated by the ferocious men who ruled France, and, to accomplish it with a semblance of justice, he had been accused of crimes of which he was utterly innocent. Even at the last moment, when standing before the implement of death, he was made to feel the brutality of men in power. He looked complacently upon the vast multitude who came to see him die, and was about to say a few words, when the officer in charge, with ferocious emphasis, said, "No speeches! come, no speeches!" and ordered the drums to be beaten and the trumpets to be sounded. Louis was heard to say, "I forgive my enemies; may God forgive them, and not lay my innocent blood to the charge of the nation! God bless my people!" Thus perished a monarch, patriotic and amiable, but too weak in intellectual and moral power to control the terrible storm of popular vengeance which a long series of abuses had engendered.

For many months Washington had watched with great anxiety the manifestations of public feeling in the United States while the bloody work of the French Revolution was progressing. He saw with alarm the spirit of that Revolution, so widely different from that which had shaken off the fetters of kingly rule in America, working insidiously into the constitution of the politics of the United States, and passion assuming the control of reason in the minds of his people. This was specially manifested by an outburst of popular feeling when the proclamation of the French republic reached America, and news that French arms had made a conquest of the Austrian Netherlands. Forgetting the friendship of Holland during our war for independence, and the spirit of genuine liberty (of which that, flaunting its bloody banners in France, was but a ferocious caricature) which had prevailed in the Netherlands and made it the asylum of the persecuted for conscience' sake for centuries, the people of Boston and other places held a celebration in honor of the temporary victory. In the New England capital there was a grand barbecue. An ox was roasted whole, and then, decorated and elevated upon a car drawn by sixteen horses, the flags of France and the United States displayed from its horns, it was paraded through the streets, followed by carts bearing sixteen hundred loaves of bread and two hogsheads of punch. These were distributed among the people; and at the same time a party of three hundred, with Samuel Adams (lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts) at their head, assisted by the French consul, sat down to dinner in Faneuil hall. To the children of all the schools, who were paraded in the streets, cakes were presented bearing the inscription, "Liberty and Equality." By public subscription, the sums owed by prisoners for debt, in jail, were paid, and the victims were set free. There was a general jubilee in Boston on that barbecue day.

With a similar spirit the news of the death of the king was hailed by the leaders of the republican party in the United States; and when intelligence of the French declaration of war against England went over the land, a fervor of enthusiasm in favor of the old ally was awakened which called loudly for compliance with the spirit and letter of the treaty of 1778, by which the United States and France became allies in peace and war. By that treaty the United States were bound to guarantee the French possessions in America; and by a treaty of commerce executed at the same time, French privateers and prizes were entitled to shelter in the American ports, while those of the enemies of France should be excluded.

There was now a wide-spreading sentiment in favor of an active participation with France, on the part of the United States, in her struggles against armed Europe; and many, in the wild enthusiasm of the moment, would not have hesitated an instant in precipitating our country into a war. Indeed, for a while, the universal sentiment was a cheer for republican France, whose Convention had declared, in the name of the French nation, that they would grant fraternity and assistance to every people who wished to recover their liberty; and they charged the executive power to send the necessary orders to the generals "to give assistance to such people, and to defend those citizens who may have been, or who may be, vexed for the cause of liberty."

Filled with the spirit of this declaration, and charged with the performance of political functions seldom exercised by diplomats, Edmund Charles Genet—"Citizen Genet," as he was termed in the new nomenclature of the French republic—came to America at this time, as the representative of that republic, to supersede the more conservative M. Ternant. Genet was a man of culture, spoke the English language fluently, possessed a pleasing address, was lively, frank, and unguarded, and as fiery as the most intense Jacobins could wish. He arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, on the eighth of April, five days after the news of the French declaration of war reached New York. His presence intensified the enthusiasm with which the country was then glowing; and for a moment, until sober reason assumed the sceptre, all opposition to the revolutionary sentiment was swept away by the tide of popular zeal for a cause that seemed identical with that which secured independence to the United States. "Is it wonderful," says the latest biographer of Jefferson, "that American popular sympathy swelled to a pitch of wild enthusiasm, when an emissary came from the new republic, surrounded with its prestige; proclaiming wild, stirring doctrines; declaring the unbounded affection of his country for the United States; scorning the arts of old diplomacy, and mixing freely with the democratic masses; not declining to talk of the important objects of his mission in promiscuous assemblies of plain working men; and exhibiting in his deportment that practical democracy, that fraternity, which men in his position, of English blood, never exhibit?"[44]

These events excited the deepest anxiety in the mind of Washington. He had no confidence whatever in the men at the head of public affairs in France—the self-constituted government of that unhappy nation. "Those in whose hands the government is intrusted," he said in a letter to Governor Lee, "are ready to tear each other to pieces, and will, more than probably, prove the worst foes the country has." He deeply deplored the wild enthusiasm which was threatening to involve his country in the European war then kindling. "Unwise would we be in the extreme," he wrote to Gouverneur Morris a month before, "to involve ourselves in the contests of European nations, where our weight would be but small, though the loss to ourselves would be certain." With such views Washington hastened back to Philadelphia; for he foresaw the necessity for announcing the disposition of his country toward the belligerent powers, and the propriety of restraining as far as possible his fellow-citizens from taking part in the contest. He immediately despatched an express to Philadelphia with the following letter to Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state:—

"Your letter of the seventh was brought to me by the last post. War having actually commenced between France and Great Britain, it behooves the government of this country to use every means in its power to prevent the citizens thereof from embroiling us with either of those powers, by endeavoring to maintain a strict neutrality. I therefore require that you will give the subject mature consideration, that such measures as shall be deemed most likely to effect this desirable purpose may be adopted without delay; for I have understood that vessels are already designated as privateers and are preparing accordingly. Such other measures as may be necessary for us to pursue, against events which it may not be in our power to avoid or control, you will also think of, and lay them before me on my arrival in Philadelphia, for which place I will set out to-morrow."

Washington reached Philadelphia on the seventeenth, and on the nineteenth held a cabinet council, having on the previous day submitted to each member of his cabinet the following questions for their consideration:—

"I. Shall a proclamation issue for the purpose of preventing interferences of the citizens of the United States in the war between France and Great Britain, etc.? Shall it contain a declaration of neutrality, or not? What shall it contain?

"II. Shall a minister from the republic of France be received?

"III. If received, shall it be absolutely without qualifications; and if with qualifications, of what kind?

"IV. Are the United States obliged by good faith to consider the treaties heretofore made with France as applying to the present situation of the parties? May they either renounce them, or hold them suspended till the government of France shall be established?

"V. If they have the right, is it expedient to do either, and which?

"VI. If they have an option, would it be a breach of neutrality to consider the treaties still in operation?

"VII. If the treaties are to be considered as now in operation, is the guaranty in the treaty of alliance applicable to a defensive war only, or to war either offensive or defensive?

"VIII. Does the war in which France is engaged appear to be offensive or defensive on her part? or of a mixed and equivocal character?

"IX. If of a mixed and equivocal character, does the guaranty, in any event, apply to such a war?

"X. What is the effect of a guaranty such as that to be found in the treaty of alliance between the United States and France?

"XI. Does any article in either of the treaties prevent ships of war, other than privateers, of the powers opposed to France, from coming into the ports of the United States to act as convoys to their own merchantmen? Or does it lay any other restraint upon them more than would apply to the ships of war with France?

"XII. Should the future regent of France send a minister to the United States, ought he to be received?

"XIII. Is it necessary or advisable to call together the two houses of Congress, with a view to the present posture of European affairs? If it is, what should be the particular object of such a call?"[45]

The cabinet meeting to consider these questions was held at the president's house. All the heads of departments and the attorney-general were present; and after a protracted discussion, it was unanimously determined that a proclamation should issue forbidding citizens of the United States to take part in any hostilities on the seas, with or against any of the belligerent powers, and warning them against carrying to any such powers any of those articles deemed contraband according to the modern usage of nations; and enjoining them from all acts and proceedings inconsistent with the duties of a friendly nation toward those at war. It was also unanimously agreed that a minister from the republic of France should be received. The remaining questions were postponed for further consideration.

In the excited state of the public mind, and the proclivity of the popular feeling toward sympathy with France, Washington's proclamation met with the severest censures. Neither his unbounded popularity nor the reverence for his character, as a wise, and honest, and patriotic man, were proof against the operations of that feeling; and the proclamation was assailed with the greatest vehemence. Every epithet in the vocabulary of the opposition party was applied to it. It was stigmatized as a royal edict, an unwarrantable and daring assumption of executive power, and an open manifestation, of the president and his political friends, of partiality for England and hostility to France. And it seems fair to infer, from his letters at that time, that Mr. Jefferson, who reluctantly voted in the cabinet for the proclamation, governed by his almost fanatical hatred of Hamilton and his sympathy with the French regicides, secretly promoted a feeling so hostile to the administration.

The wisdom of the proclamation,[46] and the position of neutrality which the government of the United States assumed at that time, was soon apparent, and has been fully vindicated by the logic of subsequent events.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] Hildreth's History of the United States, Second Series, i, 405.

[42] An eye-witness of the scene when Washington read his annual message to Congress has left a pleasant account of it on record. "As the president alighted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the platform, looking over his shoulder, in an attitude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencil, he was preceded by two gentlemen bearing long white wands, who kept back the eager crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment I stood so near that I might have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a schoolboy only; it pervaded, I believe, every human being that approached Washington; and I have been told that, even in his social and convivial hours, this feeling, in those who were honored to share them, never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling. The Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon His own instrument. The first sight of the man struck the heart with involuntary homage, and prepared everything around him to obey. When he 'addressed himself to speak,' there was an unconscious suspension of the breath, while every eye was raised in expectation.

"The president, having seated himself, remained in silence, serenely contemplating the legislature before him, whose members now resumed their seats, waiting for the speech. No house of worship, in the most solemn pauses of devotion, was ever more profoundly still than that large and crowded chamber.

"Washington was dressed precisely as Stuart has painted him in Lord Lansdowne's full-length portrait—in a full suit of the richest black velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and square silver buckles set upon shoes japanned with the most scrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the breast and wrists, a light dress-sword; his hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so as to project at the sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag, ornamented with a large rose of black riband. He held his cocked hat, which had a large black cockade on one side of it, in his hand, as he advanced toward the chair, and when seated, laid it on the table.

"At length, thrusting his hand within the side of his coat, he drew forth a roll of manuscript, which he opened, and rising held it in his hand, while, in a rich, deep, full, sonorous voice, he read his opening address to Congress. His enunciation was deliberate, justly emphasized, very distinct, and accompanied with an air of deep solemnity, as being the utterance of a mind profoundly impressed with the dignity of the act in which it was occupied, conscious of the whole responsibility of its position and action, but not oppressed by it."

[43] This was George A. Washington, to whom had been intrusted the management of affairs at Mount Vernon during the master's absence at the seat of government. He was seized with alarming symptoms of pulmonary disease early in 1792. He was greatly beloved by Washington, and his sickness gave the president much pain, and was a frequent topic in letters to his friends. To Lafayette he wrote as early as June, 1792:—

"I am afraid my nephew George, your old aid, will never have his health perfectly re-established. He has lately been attacked with the alarming symptoms of spitting large quantities of blood, and the physicians give no hopes of restoration, unless it can be effected by a change of air and a total dereliction from business, to which he is too anxiously attentive. He will, if he should be taken from his family and friends, leave three fine children, two sons and a daughter. To the eldest of the boys he has given the name of Fayette, and a fine-looking child he is."

To General Knox he wrote:—

"I thank you most sincerely for the medicine you were so obliging as to send for my nephew, and for the sympathetic feeling you express for his situation. Poor fellow! neither, I believe, will be of any avail. Present appearances indicate a speedy dissolution. He has not been able to leave his bed, except for a few moments to sit in an arm-chair, since the fourteenth or fifteenth of last month. The paroxysm of the disorder seems to be upon him, and death, or a favorable turn to it, must speedily follow."

The sufferer was then residing upon a small estate in Hanover. He lingered for several weeks, and then expired; and on the twenty-fourth of February Washington wrote to his widow:—

"MY DEAR FANNY: To you, who so well knew the affectionate regard I had for our departed friend, it is unnecessary to describe the sorrow with which I was afflicted at the news of his death, although it was an event I had expected many weeks before it happened. To express this sorrow with the force I feel it, would answer no other purpose than to revive in your breast that poignancy of anguish, which by this time I hope is abated. The object of this letter is to convey to your mind the warmest assurance of my love, friendship, and disposition to serve you. These I also profess to bear in an eminent degree for your children."

He then invites her to make Mount Vernon the home of herself and children. "You can go to no place," he said, "where you will be more welcome, nor to any where you can live at less expense or trouble."

The young widow appears to have declined the offer of a home at Mount Vernon, preferring to keep house in Alexandria, but offering to resign the charge of her eldest son, Fayette, into Washington's keeping. In March the president wrote to her, saying:—

"The carriage which I sent to Mount Vernon for your use I never intended to reclaim; and now, making you a formal present of it, it may be sent for whenever it suits your convenience and be considered as your own. I shall, when I see you, request that Fayette may be given up to me, either at that time or as soon after as he is old enough to go to school. This will relieve you of that portion of attention which his education would otherwise call for."—Mount Vernon and its Associations, pages 264, 265.

[44] The Life of Thomas Jefferson, by Henry S. Randall, LL.D., ii, 128.

[45] Sparks's Washington, x, 533, 534.

[46] The following is copy of the proclamation:—

"Whereas it appears that a state of war exists between Austria, Prussia, Sardinia, Great Britain, and the United Netherlands, on the one part, and France on the other; and the duty and interest of the United States require that they should, with sincerity and good faith, adopt and pursue a conduct friendly and impartial toward the belligerent powers;

"I have therefore thought fit by these presents to declare the disposition of the United States to observe the conduct aforesaid towards those powers respectively; and to exhort and warn the citizens of the United States carefully to avoid all acts and proceedings whatsoever, which may in any manner tend to contravene such disposition.

Previous Part     1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19     Next Part
Home - Random Browse