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Title: History of the United States of America, Volume 3 (of 9)
During the second administration of Thomas Jefferson

Author: Henry Adams

Release date: January 9, 2024 [eBook #72667]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1889

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HISTORY OF
THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, VOLUME 3 (OF 9) ***

THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION
OF
THOMAS JEFFERSON
1805–1809

H I S TO RY

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

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