SECRETARY OF STATE AND PRESIDENT
From the capitals of Russia and Great Britain to the capital of the
United States was a striking change. Washington, in its early struggle
for existence, was so unattractive a spot, that foreigners must have
been at a loss to discover the principle which had governed the
selection. It combined all the ugliness with all the discomfort of an
unprosperous frontier settlement on an ill-chosen site. What must
European diplomats have thought of a capital city where snakes two
feet long invaded gentlemen's drawing-rooms, and a carriage, bringing
home the guests from a ball, could be upset by the impenetrable depth
of quagmire at the very door of a foreign minister's residence. A
description of the city given by Mr. Mills, a Representative from
Massachusetts, in 1815, is pathetic in its unutterable horror:--
"It is impossible [he writes] for me to describe to you my
feelings on entering this miserable desert, this scene of
desolation and horror.... My anticipations were almost (p. 102)
infinitely short of the reality, and I can truly say that the
first appearance of this seat of the national government has
produced in me nothing but absolute loathing and disgust."
If the place wore such a dreadful aspect to the simple denizen of a
New England country town, what must it have seemed to those who were
familiar with London and Paris? To them the social life must have been
scarcely less dreary than the rest of the surroundings. Accordingly,
with this change of scene, the Diary, so long a record of festivities
sometimes dull and formal, but generally collecting interesting and
distinguished persons, ceases almost wholly to refer to topics of
society. Yet, of course, even the foul streets could not prevent
people from occasionally meeting together. There were simple
tea-drinkings, stupid weekly dinners at the President's, infrequent
receptions by Mrs. Monroe, card-parties and conversation-parties,
which at the British minister's were very "elegant," and at the French
minister's were more gay. Mons. de Neuville, at his dinners, used to
puzzle and astound the plain-living Yankees by serving dishes of
"turkeys without bones, and puddings in the form of fowls, fresh cod
disguised like a salad, and celery like oysters;" further, he
scandalized some and demoralized others by having dancing on (p. 103)
Saturday evenings, which the New England ladies had been "educated to
consider as holy time." Mr. and Mrs. Adams used to give weekly parties
on Tuesday evenings, and apparently many persons stood not a little in
awe of these entertainments and of the givers of them, by reason of
their superior familiarity with the manners and customs of the best
society of Europe. Mrs. Adams was, "on the whole, a very pleasant and
agreeable woman; but the Secretary [had] no talent to entertain a
mixed company, either by conversation or manners;" thus writes this
same Mr. Mills, whose sentiments towards Mr. Adams were those of
respect rather than of personal liking. The favorite dissipation then
consisted in card-playing, and the stakes were too often out of all
just proportion to the assets of the gamesters. At one time Mr. Clay
was reputed to have lost $8,000, an amount so considerable for him as
to weigh upon his mind to the manifest detriment of his public
functions. But sometimes the gentlemen resident in the capital met for
purposes less innocent than Saturday evening cotillons, or even than
extravagant betting at the card-table, and stirred the dulness of
society by a duel. Mr. Adams tells of one affair of this sort, fought
between ex-Senator Mason, of Virginia, and his cousin, wherein the
weapons used were muskets, and the distance was only six paces. (p. 104)
Mason was killed; his cousin was wounded, and only by a lucky
accident escaped with his life. Mr. Adams had little time and less
taste for either the amusements or the dangers thus offered to him; he
preferred to go to bed in good season, to get up often long before
daybreak, and to labor assiduously the livelong day. His favorite
exercise was swimming in the Potomac, where he accomplished feats
which would have been extraordinary for a young and athletic man.
The most important, perplexing, and time-consuming duties then called
for by the condition of public affairs happened to fall within Mr.
Adams's department. Monroe's administration has been christened the
"era of good feeling;" and, so far as political divisions among the
people at large were concerned, this description is correct enough.
There were no great questions of public policy dividing the nation.
There could hardly be said to be two political parties. With the close
of the war the malcontent Federalists had lost the only substantial
principle upon which they had been able vigorously to oppose the
administration, and as a natural consequence the party rapidly shrank
to insignificant proportions, and became of hardly more importance
than were the Jacobites in England after their last hopes had (p. 105)
been quenched by the failure of the Rebellion of '45. The Federalist
faith, like Jacobitism, lingered in a few neighborhoods, and was
maintained by a few old families, who managed to associate it with a
sense of their own pride and dignity; but as an effective opposition
or influential party organization it was effete, and no successor was
rising out of its ruins. In a broad way, therefore, there was
political harmony to a very remarkable degree.
But among individuals there was by no means a prevailing good feeling.
Not held together by the pressure exerted by the antagonism of a
strong hostile force, the prominent men of the Cabinet and in Congress
were busily employed in promoting their own individual interests.
Having no great issues with which to identify themselves, and upon
which they could openly and honorably contend for the approval of the
nation, their only means for securing their respective private ends
lay in secretly overreaching and supplanting each other. Infinite
skill was exerted by each to inveigle his rival into an unpopular
position or a compromising light. By a series of precedents Mr. Adams,
as Secretary of State, appeared most prominent as a candidate for the
succession to the Presidency. But Mr. Crawford, in the Treasury
Department, had been very near obtaining the nomination instead (p. 106)
of Monroe, and he was firmly resolved to secure it so soon as Mr.
Monroe's eight years should have elapsed. He, therefore, finding much
leisure left upon his hands by the not very exacting business of his
office, devoted his ingenuity to devising schemes for injuring the
prestige of Mr. Adams. Mr. Clay also had been greatly disappointed
that he had not been summoned to be Secretary of State, and so made
heir apparent. His personal enmity was naturally towards Mr. Monroe;
his political enmity necessarily also included Mr. Adams, whose
appointment he had privately sought to prevent. He therefore at once
set himself assiduously to oppose and thwart the administration, and
to make it unsuccessful and unpopular. That Clay was in the main and
upon all weighty questions an honest statesman and a real patriot must
be admitted, but just at this period no national crisis called his
nobler qualities into action, and his course was largely influenced by
selfish considerations. It was not long before Mr. Calhoun also
entered the lists, though in a manner less discreditable to himself,
personally, than were the resources of Crawford and Clay. The daily
narrations and comments of Mr. Adams display and explain in a manner
highly instructive, if not altogether agreeable, the ambitions (p. 107)
and the manoeuvres, the hollow alliances and unworthy intrigues, not
only of these three, but also of many other estimable gentlemen then
in political life. The difference between those days and our own seems
not so great as the _laudatores temporis acti_ are wont to proclaim
it. The elaborate machinery which has since been constructed was then
unknown; rivals relied chiefly upon their own astuteness and the aid
of a few personal friends and adherents for carrying on contests and
attaining ends which are now sought by vastly more complex methods.
What the stage-coach of that period was to the railroads of to-day, or
what the hand-loom was to our great cotton mills, such also was the
political intriguing of cabinet ministers, senators, and
representatives to our present party machinery. But the temper was no
better, honor was no keener, the sense of public duty was little more
disinterested then than now. One finds no serious traces of vulgar
financial dishonesty recorded in these pages, in which Mr. Adams has
handed down the political life of the second and third decades of our
century with a photographic accuracy. But one does not see a much
higher level of faithfulness to ideal standards in political life than
now exists.
[Illustration: Wm. H. Crawford.]
As has been said, it so happened that in Mr. Monroe's (p. 108)
administration the heaviest burden of labor and responsibility rested
upon Mr. Adams; the most important and most perplexing questions fell
within his department. Domestic breaches had been healed, but foreign
breaches gaped with threatening jaws. War with Spain seemed imminent.
Her South American colonies were then waging their contest for
independence, and naturally looked to the late successful rebels of
the northern continent for acts of neighborly sympathy and good
fellowship. Their efforts to obtain official recognition and the
exchange of ministers with the United States were eager and persistent.
Privateers fitted out at Baltimore gave the State Department scarcely
less cause for anxiety than the shipbuilders of Liverpool gave to the
English Cabinet in 1863-64. These perplexities, as is well known,
caused the passage of the first "Neutrality Act," which first
formulated and has since served to establish the principle of
international obligation in such matters, and has been the basis of
all subsequent legislation upon the subject not only in this country
but also in Great Britain.
The European powers, impelled by a natural distaste for rebellion by
colonists, and also believing that Spain would in time prevail over
the insurgents, turned a deaf ear to South American agents. But in the
United States it was different. Here it was anticipated that the (p. 109)
revolted communities were destined to win; Mr. Adams records this as
his own opinion; besides which there was also a natural sympathy felt
by our people in such a conflict in their own quarter of the globe.
Nevertheless, in many anxious cabinet discussions, the President and
the Secretary of State established the policy of reserve and caution.
Rebels against an established government are like plaintiffs in
litigation; the burden of proof is upon them, and the neutral nations
who are a sort of quasi-jurors must not commit themselves to a
decision prematurely. The grave and inevitable difficulties besetting
the administration in this matter were seriously enhanced by the
conduct of Mr. Clay. Seeking nothing so eagerly as an opportunity to
harass the government, he could have found none more to his taste than
this question of South American recognition. His enthusiastic and
rhetorical temperament rejoiced in such a topic for his luxuriant
oratory, and he lauded freedom and abused the administration with a
force of expression far from gratifying to the responsible heads of
government in their troublesome task.
Apart from these matters the United States had direct disputes of a
threatening character pending with Spain concerning the boundaries of
Louisiana. Naturally enough boundary lines in the half explored (p. 110)
wilderness of this vast continent were not then marked with that
indisputable accuracy which many generations and much bloodshed had
achieved in Europe; and of all uncertain boundaries that of Louisiana
was the most so. Area enough to make two or three States, more or
less, might or might not be included therein. Such doubts had proved a
ready source of quarrel, which could hardly be assuaged by General
Jackson marching about in unquestionable Spanish territory, seizing
towns and hanging people after his lawless, ignorant, energetic
fashion. Mr. Adams's chief labor, therefore, was by no means of a
promising character, being nothing less difficult than to conclude a
treaty between enraged Spain and the rapacious United States, where
there was so much wrong and so much right on both sides, and such a
wide obscure realm of doubt between the two that an amicable agreement
might well seem not only beyond expectation but beyond hope.
Many and various also were the incidental obstacles in Mr. Adams's
way. Not the least lay in the ability of Don Onis, the Spanish
Minister, an ambassador well selected for his important task and whom
the American thus described:--
"Cold, calculating, wily, always commanding his own temper, (p. 111)
proud because he is a Spaniard, but supple and cunning,
accommodating the tone of his pretensions precisely to the degree
of endurance of his opponent, bold and overbearing to the utmost
extent to which it is tolerated, careless of what he asserts or
how grossly it is proved to be unfounded, his morality appears to
be that of the Jesuits as exposed by Pascal. He is laborious,
vigilant, and ever attentive to his duties; a man of business and
of the world."
Fortunately this so dangerous negotiator was hardly less anxious than
Mr. Adams to conclude a treaty. Yet he, too, had his grave difficulties
to encounter. Spanish arrogance had not declined with the decline of
Spanish strength, and the concessions demanded from that ancient
monarchy by the upstart republic seemed at once exasperating and
humiliating. The career of Jackson in Florida, while it exposed the
weakness of Spain, also sorely wounded her pride. Nor could the
grandees, three thousand miles away, form so accurate an opinion of
the true condition and prospects of affairs as could Don Onis upon
this side of the water. One day, begging Mr. Adams to meet him upon a
question of boundary, "he insisted much upon the infinite pains he had
taken to prevail upon his government to come to terms of accommodation,"
and pathetically declared that "the King's Council was composed (p. 112)
of such ignorant and stupid _nigauds_, grandees of Spain, and priests,"
that Mr. Adams "could have no conception of their obstinacy and
imbecility."
Other difficulties in Mr. Adams's way were such as ought not to have
been encountered. The only substantial concession which he was willing
to make was in accepting the Sabine instead of the Rio del Norte as
the southwestern boundary of Louisiana. But no sooner did rumors of
this possible yielding get abroad than he was notified that Mr. Clay
"would take ground against" any treaty embodying it. From Mr. Crawford
a more dangerous and insidious policy was to be feared. Presumably he
would be well pleased either to see Mr. Adams fail altogether in the
negotiation, or to see him conclude a treaty which would be in some
essential feature odious to the people.
"That all his conduct [wrote Mr. Adams] is governed by his views
to the Presidency, as the ultimate successor to Mr. Monroe, and
that his hopes depend upon a result unfavorable to the success or
at least to the popularity of the Administration, is perfectly
clear.... His talent is intrigue. And as it is in the foreign
affairs that the success or failure of the Administration will be
most conspicuous, and as their success would promote the
reputation and influence, and their failure would lead to (p. 113)
the disgrace of the Secretary of State, Crawford's personal
views centre in the ill-success of the Administration in its
foreign relations; and, perhaps unconscious of his own motives,
he will always be impelled to throw obstacles in its way, and to
bring upon the Department of State especially any feeling of
public dissatisfaction that he can, ... and although himself a
member of the Administration, he perceives every day more clearly
that his only prospect of success hereafter depends upon the
failure of the Administration by measures of which he must take
care to make known his disapprobation."
President Monroe was profoundly anxious for the consummation of the
treaty, and though for a time he was in perfect accord with Mr. Adams,
yet as the Spanish minister gradually drew nearer and nearer to a full
compliance with the American demands, Monroe began to fear that the
Secretary would carry his unyielding habit too far, and by insistence
upon extreme points which might well enough be given up, would allow
the country to drift into war.
Fortunately, as it turned out, Mr. Adams was not afraid to take the
whole responsibility of success or failure upon his own shoulders,
showing indeed a high and admirable courage and constancy amid such
grave perplexities, in which it seemed that all his future political
fortunes were involved. He caused the proffered mediation of (p. 114)
Great Britain to be rejected. He availed himself of no aid save only
the services of Mons. de Neuville, the French minister, who took a
warm interest in the negotiation, expostulated and argued constantly
with Don Onis and sometimes with Mr. Adams, served as a channel of
communication and carried messages, propositions, and denials, which
could better come filtered through a neutral go-between than pass
direct from principal to principal. In fact, Mr. Adams needed no other
kind of aid except just this which was so readily furnished by the
civil and obliging Frenchman. As if he had been a mathematician
solving a problem in dynamics, he seemed to have measured the precise
line to which the severe pressure of Spanish difficulties would compel
Don Onis to advance. This line he drew sharply, and taking his stand
upon it in the beginning he made no important alterations in it to the
end. Day by day the Spaniard would reluctantly approach toward him at
one point or another, solemnly protesting that he could not make
another move, by argument and entreaty urging, almost imploring, Mr.
Adams in turn to advance and meet him. But Mr. Adams stood rigidly
still, sometimes not a little vexed by the other's lingering manoeuvres,
and actually once saying to the courtly Spaniard that he "was so (p. 115)
wearied out with the discussion that it had become nauseous;" and,
again, that he "really could discuss no longer, and had given it up in
despair." Yet all the while he was never wholly free from anxiety
concerning the accuracy of his calculations as to how soon the Don
might on his side also come to a final stand. Many a tedious and
alarming pause there was, but after each halt progress was in time
renewed. At last the consummation was reached, and except in the
aforementioned matter of the Sabine boundary no concession even in
details had been made by Mr. Adams. The United States was to receive
Florida, and in return only agreed to settle the disputed claims of
certain of her citizens against Spain to an amount not to exceed five
million dollars; while the claims of Spanish subjects against the
United States were wholly expunged. The western boundary was so
established as to secure for this country the much-coveted outlet to
the shores of the "South Sea," as the Pacific Ocean was called, south
of the Columbia River; the line also was run along the southern banks
of the Red and Arkansas rivers, leaving all the islands to the United
States and precluding Spain from the right of navigation. Mr. Adams
had achieved a great triumph.
On February 22, 1819, the two negotiators signed and sealed the (p. 116)
counterparts of the treaty. Mr. Adams notes that it is "perhaps
the most important day of my life," and justly called it "a great
epoch in our history." Yet on the next day the "Washington City
Gazette" came out with a strong condemnation of the Sabine concession,
and expressed the hope that the Senate would not agree to it. "This
paragraph," said Mr. Adams, "comes directly or indirectly from Mr.
Clay." But the paragraph did no harm, for on the following day the
treaty was confirmed by an unanimous vote of the Senate.
It was not long, however, before the pleasure justly derivable from
the completion of this great labor was cruelly dashed. It appeared
that certain enormous grants of land, made by the Spanish king to
three of his nobles, and which were supposed to be annulled by the
treaty, so that the territory covered by them would become the public
property of the United States, bore date earlier than had been
understood, and for this reason would, by the terms of the treaty, be
left in full force. This was a serious matter, and such steps as were
still possible to set it right were promptly taken. Mr. Adams appealed
to Don Onis to state in writing that he himself had understood that
these grants were to be annulled, and that such had been the intention
of the treaty. The Spaniard replied in a shape imperfectly (p. 117)
satisfactory. He shuffled, evaded, and laid himself open to suspicion
of unfair dealing, though the charge could not be regarded as fully
proved against him. Mr. Adams, while blaming himself for carelessness
in not having more closely examined original documents, yet felt
"scarce a doubt" that Onis "did intend by artifice to cover the grants
while we were under the undoubting impression they were annulled;" and
he said to M. de Neuville, concerning this dark transaction, that "it
was not the ingenious device of a public minister, but '_une fourberie
de Scapin_.'" Before long the rumor got abroad in the public prints in
the natural shape of a "malignant distortion," and Mr. Adams was
compelled to see with chagrin his supposed brilliant success
threatening to turn actually to his grave discredit by reason of this
unfortunate oversight.
What might have been the result had the treaty been ratified by Spain
can only be surmised. But it so befell--happily enough for the United
States and for Mr. Adams, as it afterwards turned out--that the
Spanish government refused to ratify. The news was, however, that they
would forthwith dispatch a new minister to explain this refusal and to
renew negotiations.
For his own private part Mr. Adams strove to endure this buffet (p. 118)
of unkindly fortune with that unflinching and stubborn temper,
slightly dashed with bitterness, which stood him in good stead in many
a political trial during his hard-fighting career. But in his official
capacity he had also to consider and advise what it behooved the
administration to do under the circumstances. The feeling was
widespread that the United States ought to possess Florida, and that
Spain had paltered with us long enough. More than once in cabinet
meetings during the negotiation the Secretary of State, who was always
prone to strong measures, had expressed a wish for an act of Congress
authorizing the Executive to take forcible possession of Florida and
of Galveston in the event of Spain refusing to satisfy the reasonable
demands made upon her. Now, stimulated by indignant feeling, his
prepossession in favor of vigorous action was greatly strengthened,
and his counsel was that the United States should prepare at once to
take and hold the disputed territory, and indeed some undisputed
Spanish territory also. But Mr. Monroe and the rest of the Cabinet
preferred a milder course; and France and Great Britain ventured to
express to this country a hope that no violent action would be
precipitately taken. So the matter lay by for a while, awaiting the
coming of the promised envoy from Spain.
At this time the great question of the admission of Missouri into (p. 119)
the Union of States began to agitate Congress and the nation. Mr.
Adams, deeply absorbed in the perplexing affairs of his department,
into which this domestic problem did not enter, was at first careless
of it. His ideas concerning the matter, he wrote, were a "chaos;" but
it was a "chaos" into which his interest in public questions soon
compelled him to bring order. In so doing he for the first time fairly
exposes his intense repulsion for slavery, his full appreciation of
the irrepressible character of the conflict between the slave and the
free populations, and the sure tendency of that conflict to a
dissolution of the Union. Few men at that day read the future so
clearly. While dissolution was generally regarded as a threat not
really intended to be carried out, and compromises were supposed to be
amply sufficient to control the successive emergencies, the underlying
moral force of the anti-slavery movement acting against the
encroaching necessities of the slave-holding communities constituted
an element and involved possibilities which Mr. Adams, from his
position of observation outside the immediate controversy, noted with
foreseeing accuracy. He discerned in passing events the "title-page to
a great tragic volume;" and he predicted that the more or less distant
but sure end must be an attempt to dissolve the Union. His own (p. 120)
position was distinctly defined from the outset, and his strong
feelings were vigorously expressed. He beheld with profound regret the
superiority of the slave-holding party in ability; he remarked sadly
how greatly they excelled in debating power their lukewarm opponents;
he was filled with indignation against the Northern men of Southern
principles. "Slavery," he wrote, "is the great and foul stain upon the
North American Union, and it is a contemplation worthy of the most
exalted soul whether its total abolition is or is not practicable." "A
life devoted to" the emancipation problem "would be nobly spent or
sacrificed." He talks with much acerbity of expression about the
"slave-drivers," and the "flagrant image of human inconsistency"
presented by men who had "the Declaration of Independence on their
lips and the merciless scourge of slavery in their hands." "Never," he
says, "since human sentiments and human conduct were influenced by
human speech was there a theme for eloquence like the free side of
this question.... Oh, if but one man could arise with a genius capable
of comprehending, and an utterance capable of communicating those
eternal truths that belong to this question, to lay bare in all its
nakedness that outrage upon the goodness of God, human slavery; (p. 121)
now is the time and this is the occasion, upon which such a man would
perform the duties of an angel upon earth." Before the Abolitionists
had begun to preach their great crusade this was strong and ardent
language for a statesman's pen. Nor were these exceptional passages;
there is much more of the same sort at least equally forcible. Mr.
Adams notes an interesting remark made to him by Calhoun at this time.
The great Southern chief, less prescient than Mr. Adams, declared that
he did not think that the slavery question "would produce a
dissolution of the Union; but if it should, the South would be from
necessity compelled to form an alliance offensive and defensive with
Great Britain."
Concerning a suggestion that civil war might be preferable to the
extension of slavery beyond the Mississippi, Adams said: "This is a
question between the rights of human nature and the Constitution of
the United States"--a form of stating the case which leaves no doubt
concerning his ideas of the intrinsic right and wrong in the matter.
His own notion was that slavery could not be got rid of within the
Union, but that the only method would be dissolution, after which he
trusted that the course of events would in time surely lead to
reorganization upon the basis of universal freedom for all. He (p. 122)
was not a disunionist in any sense, yet it is evident that his strong
tendency and inclination were to regard emancipation as a weight in
the scales heavier than union, if it should ever come to the point of
an option between the two.
Strangely enough the notion of a forcible retention of the slave
States within the Union does not seem to have been at this time a
substantial element of consideration. Mr. Adams acknowledged that
there was no way at once of preserving the Union and escaping from the
present emergency save through the door of compromise. He maintained
strenuously the power of Congress to prohibit slavery in the
Territories, and denied that either Congress or a state government
could establish slavery as a new institution in any State in which it
was not already existing and recognized by law.
This agitation of the slavery question made itself felt in a way
personally interesting to Mr. Adams, by the influence it was exerting
upon men's feelings concerning the still pending and dubious treaty
with Spain. The South became anxious to lay hands upon the Floridas
and upon as far-reaching an area as possible in the direction of
Mexico, in order to carve it up into more slave States; the North, on
the other hand, no longer cared very eagerly for an extension of the
Union upon its southern side. Sectional interests were getting to (p. 123)
be more considered than national. Mr. Adams could not but recognize
that in the great race for the Presidency, in which he could hardly
help being a competitor, the chief advantage which he seemed to have
won when the Senate unanimously ratified the Spanish treaty, had
almost wholly vanished since that treaty had been repudiated by Spain
and was now no longer desired by a large proportion of his own
countrymen.
Matters stood thus when the new Spanish envoy, Vivês, arrived. Other
elements, which there is not space to enumerate here, besides those
referred to, now entering newly into the state of affairs, further
reduced the improbability of agreement almost to hopelessness. Mr.
Adams, despairing of any other solution than a forcible seizure of
Florida, to which he had long been far from averse, now visibly
relaxed his efforts to meet the Spanish negotiator. Perhaps no other
course could have been more effectual in securing success than this
obvious indifference to it. In the prevalent condition of public
feeling and of his own sentiments Mr. Adams easily assumed towards
General Vivês a decisive bluntness, not altogether consonant to the
habits of diplomacy, and manifested an unchangeable stubbornness which
left no room for discussion. His position was simply that Spain might
make such a treaty as the United States demanded, or might take (p. 124)
the consequences of her refusal. His dogged will wore out the
Spaniard's pride, and after a fruitless delay the King and Cortes
ratified the treaty in its original shape, with the important addition
of an explicit annulment of the land grants. It was again sent in to
the Senate, and in spite of the "continued, systematic, and laborious
effort" of "Mr. Clay and his partisans to make it unpopular," it was
ratified by a handsome majority, there being against it "only four
votes--Brown, of Louisiana, who married a sister of Clay's wife;
Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, against his own better judgment, from
mere political subserviency to Clay; Williams, of Tennessee, from
party impulses connected with hatred of General Jackson; and Trimble,
of Ohio, from some maggot of the brain." Two years had elapsed since
the former ratification, and no little patience had been required to
await so long the final achievement of a success so ardently longed
for, once apparently gained, and anon so cruelly thwarted. But the
triumph was rather enhanced than diminished by all this difficulty and
delay. A long and checkered history, wherein appeared infinite labor,
many a severe trial of temper and hard test of moral courage, bitter
disappointment, ignoble artifices of opponents, ungenerous (p. 125)
opposition growing out of unworthy personal motives at home, was now
at last closed by a chapter which appeared only the more gratifying by
contrast with what had gone before. Mr. Adams recorded, with less of
exultation than might have been pardonable, the utter discomfiture of
"all the calculators of my downfall by the Spanish negotiation," and
reflected cheerfully that he had been left with "credit rather augmented
than impaired by the result,"--credit not in excess of his deserts.
Many years afterwards, in changed circumstances, an outcry was raised
against the agreement which was arrived at concerning the southwestern
boundary of Louisiana. Most unjustly it was declared that Mr. Adams
had sacrificed a portion of the territory of the United States. But
political motives were too plainly to be discerned in these tardy
criticisms; and though General Jackson saw fit, for personal reasons,
to animadvert severely upon the clause establishing this boundary
line, yet there was abundant evidence to show not only that he, like
almost everybody else, had been greatly pleased with it at the time,
but even that he had then upon consultation expressed a deliberate and
special approval.
The same day, February 22, 1821, closed, says Mr. Adams, "two of the
most memorable transactions of my life." That he should speak thus (p. 126)
of the exchange of ratifications of the Spanish treaty is natural; but
the other so "memorable transaction" may not appear of equal magnitude.
It was the sending in to Congress of his report upon weights and
measures. This was one of those vast labors, involving tenfold more
toil than all the negotiations with Onis and Vivês, but bringing no
proportionate fame, however well it might be performed. The subject
was one which had "occupied for the last sixty years many of the
ablest men in Europe, and to which all the power and all the
philosophical and mathematical learning and ingenuity of France and of
Great Britain" had during that period been incessantly directed. It
was fairly enough described as a "fearful and oppressive task." Upon
its dry and uncongenial difficulties Mr. Adams had been employed with
his wonted industry for upwards of four years; he now spoke of the
result modestly as "a hurried and imperfect work." But others, who
have had to deal with the subject, have found this report a solid and
magnificent monument of research and reflection, which has not even
yet been superseded by later treatises. Mr. Adams was honest in labor
as in everything, and was never careless at points where inaccuracy or
lack of thoroughness might be expected to escape detection. (p. 127)
Hence his success in a task upon which it is difficult to imagine other
statesmen of that day--Clay, Webster, or Calhoun, for example--so much
as making an effort. The topic is not one concerning which readers
would tolerate much lingering. Suffice it then to say that the
document illustrated the ability and the character of the man, and so
with this brief mention to dismiss in a paragraph an achievement
which, had it been accomplished in any more showy department, would
alone have rendered Mr. Adams famous.
It is highly gratifying now to look back upon the high spirit and
independent temper uniformly displayed by Mr. Adams abroad and at home
in all dealings with foreign powers. Never in any instance did he
display the least tinge of that rodomontade and boastful extravagance
which have given an underbred air to so many of our diplomats, and
which inevitably cause the basis for such self-laudation to appear of
dubious sufficiency. But he had the happy gift of a native pride which
enabled him to support in the most effective manner the dignity of the
people for whom he spoke. For example, in treaties between the United
States and European powers the latter were for a time wont to name
themselves first throughout the instruments, contrary to the custom of
alternation practised in treaties between themselves. With some (p. 128)
difficulty, partly interposed, it must be confessed, by his own
American coadjutors, Mr. Adams succeeded in putting a stop to this
usage. It was a matter of insignificant detail, in one point of view;
but in diplomacy insignificant details often symbolize important
facts, and there is no question that this habit had been construed as
a tacit but intentional arrogance of superiority on the part of the
Europeans.
For a long period after the birth of the country there was a strong
tendency, not yet so eradicated as to be altogether undiscoverable, on
the part of American statesmen to keep one eye turned covertly askance
upon the trans-Atlantic courts, and to consider, not without a certain
anxious deference, what appearance the new United States might be
presenting to the critical eyes of foreign countries and diplomats.
Mr. Adams was never guilty of such indirect admissions of an inferiority
which apparently he never felt. In the matter of the acquisition of
Florida, Crawford suggested that England and France regarded the
people of the United States as ambitious and encroaching; wherefore he
advised a moderate policy in order to remove this impression. Mr.
Adams on the other side declared that he was not in favor of our
giving ourselves any concern whatever about the opinions of any (p. 129)
foreign power. "If the world do not hold us for Romans," he said,
"they will take us for Jews, and of the two vices I would rather be
charged with that which has greatness mingled in its composition." His
views were broad and grand. He was quite ready to have the world
become "familiarized with the idea of considering our proper dominion
to be the continent of North America." This extension he declared to
be a "law of nature." To suppose that Spain and England could, through
the long lapse of time, retain their possessions on this side of the
Atlantic seemed to him a "physical, moral, and political absurdity."
The doctrine which has been christened with the name of President
Monroe seems likely to win for him the permanent glory of having
originated the wise policy which that familiar phrase now signifies.
It might, however, be shown that by right of true paternity the
bantling should have borne a different patronymic. Not only is the
"Monroe Doctrine," as that phrase is customarily construed in our day,
much more comprehensive than the simple theory first expressed by
Monroe and now included in the modern doctrine as a part in the whole,
but a principle more fully identical with the imperial one of to-day
had been conceived and shaped by Mr. Adams before the delivery of (p. 130)
Monroe's famous message. As has just been remarked, he looked forward
to the possession of the whole North American continent by the United
States as a sure destiny, and for his own part, whenever opportunity
offered, he was never backward to promote this glorious ultimate
consummation. He was in favor of the acquisition of Louisiana, whatever
fault he might find with the scheme of Mr. Jefferson for making it a
state; he was ready in 1815 to ask the British plenipotentiaries to
cede Canada simply as a matter of common sense and mutual convenience,
and as the comfortable result of a war in which the United States had
been worsted; he never labored harder than in negotiating for the
Floridas, and in pushing our western boundaries to the Pacific; in
April, 1823, he wrote to the American minister at Madrid the significant
remark: "It is scarcely possible to resist the conviction that the
annexation of Cuba to our Federal Republic will be indispensable to
the continuance and integrity of the Union." Encroachments never
seemed distasteful to him, and he was always forward to stretch a
point in order to advocate or defend a seizure of disputed North
American territory, as in the cases of Amelia Island, Pensacola, and
Galveston. When discussion arose with Russia concerning her (p. 131)
possessions on the northwest coast of this continent, Mr. Adams
audaciously told the Russian minister, Baron Tuyl, July 17, 1823,
"that we should contest the rights of Russia to _any_ territorial
establishment on this continent, and that we should assume distinctly
the principle that the American continents are no longer subjects for
any new European colonial establishments." "This," says Mr. Charles
Francis Adams in a footnote to the passage in the Diary, "is the first
hint of the policy so well known afterwards as the Monroe Doctrine."
Nearly five months later, referring to the same matter in his message
to Congress, December 2, 1823, President Monroe said: "The occasion
has been judged proper for asserting, as a principle in which the
rights and interests of the United States are involved, that the
American continents, by the free and independent condition which they
have assumed and maintain, are henceforth not to be considered as
subjects for future colonization by any European powers."
It will be observed that both Mr. Adams and President Monroe used the
phrase "continents," including thereby South as well as North America.
A momentous question was imminent, which fortunately never called for
a determination by action, but which in this latter part of 1823
threatened to do so at any moment. Cautious and moderate as the (p. 132)
United States had been, under Mr. Adams's guidance, in recognizing
the freedom and autonomy of the South American states, yet in time the
recognition was made of one after another, and the emancipation of
South America had come, while Mr. Adams was yet Secretary, to be
regarded as an established fact. But now, in 1823-24, came mutterings
from across the Atlantic indicating a strong probability that the
members of the Holy Alliance would interfere in behalf of monarchical
and anti-revolutionary principles, and would assist in the resubjugation
of the successful insurgents. That each one of the powers who should
contribute to this huge crusade would expect and receive territorial
reward could not be doubted. Mr. Adams, in unison with most of his
countrymen, contemplated with profound distrust and repulsion the
possibility of such an European inroad. Stimulated by the prospect of
so unwelcome neighbors, he prepared some dispatches, "drawn to
correspond exactly" with the sentiments of Mr. Monroe's message, in
which he appears to have taken a very high and defiant position. These
documents, coming before the Cabinet for consideration, caused some
flutter among his associates. In the possible event of the Holy
Alliance actually intermeddling in South American affairs, it was (p. 133)
said, the principles enunciated by the Secretary of State would
involve this country in war with a very formidable confederation. Mr.
Adams acknowledged this, but courageously declared that in such a
crisis he felt quite ready to take even this spirited stand. His
audacious spirit went far in advance of the cautious temper of the
Monroe administration; possibly it went too far in advance of the
dictates of a wise prudence, though fortunately the course of events
never brought this question to trial; and it is at least gratifying to
contemplate such a manifestation of daring temper.
But though so bold and independent, Mr. Adams was not habitually
reckless nor prone to excite animosity by needless arrogance in action
or extravagance in principle. In any less perilous extremity than was
presented by this menaced intrusion of combined Europe he followed
rigidly the wise rule of non-interference. For many years before this
stage was reached he had been holding in difficult check the
enthusiasts who, under the lead of Mr. Clay, would have embroiled us
with Spain and Portugal. Once he was made the recipient of a very
amusing proposition from the Portuguese minister, that the United
States and Portugal, as "the two great powers of the western hemisphere,"
should concert together a grand American system. The drollery pf (p. 134)
this notion was of a kind that Mr. Adams could appreciate, though
to most manifestations of humor he was utterly impervious. But after
giving vent to some contemptuous merriment he adds, with a just and
serious pride: "As to an American system, we have it; we constitute
the whole of it; there is no community of interests or of principles
between North and South America." This sound doctrine was put forth in
1820; and it was only modified in the manner that we have seen during
a brief period in 1823, in face of the alarming vision not only of
Spain and Portugal restored to authority, but of Russia in possession
of California and more, France in possession of Mexico, and perhaps
Great Britain becoming mistress of Cuba.
So far as European affairs were concerned, Mr. Adams always and
consistently refused to become entangled in them, even in the slightest
and most indirect manner. When the cause of Greek liberty aroused the
usual throng of noisy advocates for active interference, he contented
himself with expressions of cordial sympathy, accompanied by perfectly
distinct and explicit statements that under no circumstances could any
aid in the way of money or auxiliary forces be expected from this
country. Neutrals we were and would remain in any and all (p. 135)
European quarrels. When Stratford Canning urged, with the uttermost
measure of persistence of which even he was capable, that for the
suppression of the slave trade some such arrangement might be made as
that of mixed tribunals for the trial of slave-trading vessels, and
alleged that divers European powers were uniting for this purpose, Mr.
Adams suggested, as an insuperable obstacle, "the general extra-European
policy of the United States--a policy which they had always pursued as
best suited to their own interests, and best adapted to harmonize with
those of Europe. This policy had also been that of Europe, which had
never considered the United States as belonging to her system.... It
was best for both parties that they should continue to do so." In any
European combinations, said Mr. Adams, in which the United States
should become a member, she must soon become an important power, and
must always be, in many respects, an uncongenial one. It was best that
she should keep wholly out of European politics, even of such leagues
as one for the suppression of the slave trade. He added, that he did
not wish his language to be construed as importing "an unsocial and
sulky spirit on the part of the United States;" for no such temper
existed; it had simply been the policy of Europe to consider (p. 136)
this country as standing aloof from all European federations, and in
this treatment "we had acquiesced, because it fell in with our own
policy."
In a word, Mr. Adams, by his language and actions, established and
developed precisely that doctrine which has since been adopted by this
country under the doubly incorrect name of the "Monroe Doctrine,"--a
name doubly incorrect, because even the real "Monroe Doctrine" was not
an original idea of Mr. Monroe, and because the doctrine which now
goes by that name is not identical with the doctrine which Monroe did
once declare. Mr. Adams's principle was simply that the United States
would take no part whatsoever in foreign politics, not even in those
of South America, save in the extreme event, eliminated from among
things possible in this generation, of such an interference as was
contemplated by the Holy Alliance; and that, on the other hand, she
would permit no European power to gain any new foothold upon this
continent. Time and experience have not enabled us to improve upon the
principles which Mr. Adams worked out for us.
Mr. Adams had some pretty stormy times with Mr. Stratford Canning--the
same gentleman who in his later life is familiar to the readers of (p. 137)
Kinglake's "History of the Crimean War" as Lord Stratford de
Redclyffe, or Eltchi. That minister's overbearing and dictatorial
deportment was afterwards not out of place when he was representing
the protecting power of Great Britain in the court of the "sick man."
But when he began to display his arrogance in the face of Mr. Adams he
found that he was bearding one who was at least his equal in pride and
temper. The naïve surprise which he manifested on making this
discovery is very amusing, and the accounts of the interviews between
the two are among the most pleasing episodes in the history of our
foreign relations. Nor are they less interesting as a sort of
confidential peep at the asperities of diplomacy. It appears that
besides the composed and formal dignity of phrase which alone the
public knows in published state papers and official correspondence,
there is also an official language of wrath and retort not at all
artificial or stilted, but quite homelike and human in its sound.
One subject much discussed between Mr. Adams and Mr. Canning related
to the English propositions for joint efforts to suppress the slave
trade. Great Britain had engaged with much vigor and certainly with an
admirable humanity in this cause. Her scheme was that each power
should keep armed cruisers on the coast of Africa, that the (p. 138)
war-ships of either nation might search the merchant vessels of the
other, and that mixed courts of joint commissioners should try all
cases of capture. This plan had been urged upon the several European
nations, but with imperfect success. Portugal, Spain, and the
Netherlands had assented to it; Russia, France, Austria, and Prussia
had rejected it. Mr. Adams's notion was that the ministry were, in
their secret hearts, rather lukewarm in the business, but that they
were so pressed by "the party of the saints in Parliament" that they
were obliged to make a parade of zeal. Whether this suspicion was
correct or not, it is certain that Mr. Stratford Canning was very
persistent in the presentation of his demands, and could not be
persuaded to take No for an answer. Had it been possible to give any
more favorable reply no one in the United States in that day would
have been better pleased than Mr. Adams to do so. But the obstacles
were insuperable. Besides the undesirability of departing from the
"extra-European policy," the mixed courts would have been
unconstitutional, and could not have been established even by act of
Congress, while the claims advanced by Great Britain to search our
ships for English-born seamen in time of war utterly precluded the
possibility of admitting any rights of search whatsoever upon her (p. 139)
part, even in time of peace, for any purpose or in any shape. In vain
did the Englishman reiterate his appeal. Mr. Adams as often explained
that the insistence of England upon her outrageous claim had rendered
the United States so sensitive upon the entire subject of search that
no description of right of that kind could ever be tolerated. "All
concession of principle," he said, "tended to encourage encroachment,
and if naval officers were once habituated to search the vessels of
other nations in time of peace for one thing, they would be still more
encouraged to practise it for another thing in time of war." The only
way for Great Britain to achieve her purpose would be "to bind herself
by an article, as strong and explicit as language can make it, never
again in time of war to take a man from an American vessel." This of
course was an inadmissible proposition, and so Mr. Stratford Canning's
incessant urgency produced no substantial results. This discussion,
however, was generally harmonious. Once only, in its earlier stages,
Mr. Adams notes a remark of Mr. Canning, repeated for the second time,
and not altogether gratifying. He said, writes Mr. Adams, "that he
should always receive any observations that I may make to him with a
just deference to my advance of years--over him. This is one of (p. 140)
those equivocal compliments which, according to Sterne, a Frenchman
always returns with a bow."
It was when they got upon the matter of the American settlement at the
mouth of the Columbia River, that the two struck fire. Possession of
this disputed spot had been taken by the Americans, but was broken up
by the British during the war of 1812. After the declaration of peace
upon the _status ante bellum_, a British government vessel had been
dispatched upon the special errand of making formal return of the port
to the Americans. In January, 1821, certain remarks made in debate in
the House of Representatives, followed soon afterward by publication
in the "National Intelligencer" of a paper signed by Senator Eaton,
led Mr. Canning to think that the Government entertained the design of
establishing a substantial settlement at the mouth of the river. On
January 26 he called upon Mr. Adams and inquired the intentions of the
Administration in regard to this. Mr. Adams replied that an increase
of the present settlement was not improbable. Thereupon Mr. Canning
dropping the air of "easy familiarity" which had previously marked the
intercourse between the two, and "assuming a tone more peremptory"
than Mr. Adams "was disposed to endure," expressed his great (p. 141)
surprise. Mr. Adams "with a corresponding change of tone" expressed
equal surprise, "both at the form and substance of his address." Mr.
Canning said that "he conceived such a settlement would be a direct
violation of the article of the Convention of 20th October, 1818." Mr.
Adams took down a volume, read the article, and said, "Now, sir, if
you have any charge to make against the American Government for a
violation of this article, you will please to make the communication
in writing." Mr. Canning retorted, with great vehemence:--
"'And do you suppose, sir, that I am to be dictated to as to the
manner in which I may think proper to communicate with the
American Government?' I answered, 'No, sir. We know very well
what are the privileges of foreign ministers, and mean to respect
them. But you will give us leave to determine what communications
we will receive, and how we will receive them; and you may be
assured we are as little disposed to submit to dictation as to
exercise it.' He then, in a louder and more passionate tone of
voice, said: 'And am I to understand that I am to be refused
henceforth any conference with you upon the subject of my
mission?' 'Not at all, sir,' said I, 'my request is, that if you
have anything further to say to me _upon this subject_, you would
say it in writing. And my motive is to avoid what, both from the
nature of the subject and from the manner in which you (p. 142)
have thought proper to open it, I foresee will tend only to
mutual irritation, and not to an amicable arrangement.' With some
abatement of tone, but in the same peremptory manner, he said,
'Am I to understand that you refuse any further conference with
me on this subject?' I said, 'No. But you will understand that I
am not pleased either with the grounds upon which you have sought
this conference, nor with the questions which you have seen fit
to put to me.'"
Mr. Adams then proceeded to expose the impropriety of a foreign
minister demanding from the Administration an explanation of words
uttered in debate in Congress, and also said that he supposed that the
British had no claim to the territory in question. Mr. Canning
rejoined, and referred to the sending out of the American ship of war
Ontario, in 1817, without any notice to the British minister[3] at
Washington,--
"speaking in a very emphatic manner and as if there had been an
intended secret expedition ... which had been detected only by
the vigilance and penetration of the British minister. I
answered, 'Why, Mr. Bagot did say something to me about it; but I
certainly did not think him serious, and we had a good-humored
laughing conversation on the occasion.' Canning, with great
vehemence: 'You may rely upon it, sir, that it was no laughing
matter to him; for I have seen his report to his government and
know what his feelings concerning it were.' I replied, (p. 143)
'This is the first intimation I have ever received that Mr. Bagot
took the slightest offence at what then passed between us, ...
and you will give me leave to say that when he left this
country'--Here I was going to add that the last words he said to
me were words of thanks for the invariable urbanity and
liberality of my conduct and the personal kindness which he had
uniformly received from me. But I could not finish the sentence.
Mr. Canning, in a paroxysm of extreme irritation, broke out: 'I
stop you there. I will not endure a misrepresentation of what I
say. I never said that Mr. Bagot took offence at anything that
had passed between him and you; and nothing that I said imported
any such thing.' Then ... added in the same passionate manner: 'I
am treated like a school-boy.' I then resumed: 'Mr. Canning, I
have a distinct recollection of the substance of the short
conversation between Mr. Bagot and me at that time; and it was
this'--'No doubt, sir,' said Canning, interrupting me again, 'no
doubt, sir, Mr. Bagot answered you like a man of good breeding
and good humor.'"
[Footnote 3: Then Mr. Bagot.]
Mr. Adams began again and succeeded in making, without further
interruption, a careful recital of his talk with Mr. Bagot. While he
was speaking Mr. Canning grew cooler, and expressed some surprise at
what he heard. But in a few moments the conversation again became warm
and personal. Mr. Adams remarked that heretofore he had thrown off (p. 144)
some of the "cautious reserve" which might have been "strictly
regular" between them, and that
"'so long as his (Canning's) professions had been supported by
his conduct'--Here Mr. Canning again stopped me by repeating with
great vehemence, 'My conduct! I am responsible for my conduct
only to my government!'"
Mr. Adams replied, substantially, that he could respect the rights of
Mr. Canning and maintain his own, and that he thought the best mode of
treating this topic in future would be by writing. Mr. Canning then
expressed himself as
"'willing to forget all that had now passed.' I told him that I
neither asked nor promised him to forget.... He asked again if he
was to understand me as refusing to confer with him further on
the subject. I said, 'No.' 'Would I appoint a time for that
purpose?' I said, 'Now, if he pleased.... But as he appeared to
be under some excitement, perhaps he might prefer some other
time, in which case I would readily receive him to-morrow at one
o'clock;' upon which he rose and took leave, saying he would come
at that time."
The next day, accordingly, this genial pair again encountered. Mr.
Adams noted at first in Mr. Canning's manner "an effort at coolness,
but no appearance of cheerfulness or good humor. I saw there was (p. 145)
no relaxation of the tone he had yesterday assumed, and felt that
none would on my part be suitable." They went over quietly enough some
of the ground traversed the day before, Mr. Adams again explaining the
impropriety of Mr. Canning questioning him concerning remarks made in
debate in Congress. It was, he said, as if Mr. Rush, hearing in the
House of Commons something said about sending troops to the Shetland
Islands, should proceed to question Lord Castlereagh about it.
"'Have you,' said Mr. Canning, 'any claim to the Shetland
Islands?' 'Have you any _claim_,' said I, 'to the mouth of
Columbia River?' 'Why, do you not _know_,' replied he, 'that we
have a claim?' 'I do not _know_,' said I, 'what you claim nor
what you do not claim. You claim India; you claim Africa; you
claim'--'Perhaps,' said he, 'a piece of the moon.' 'No,' said I,
'I have not heard that you claim exclusively any part of the
moon; but there is not a spot on _this_ habitable globe that I
could affirm you do not claim!'"
The conversation continued with alternations of lull and storm, Mr.
Canning at times becoming warm and incensed and interrupting Mr.
Adams, who retorted with a dogged asperity which must have been
extremely irritating. Mr. Adams said that he did "not expect to be (p. 146)
plied with captious questions" to obtain indirectly that which
had been directly denied. Mr. Canning, "exceedingly irritated,"
complained of the word "captious." Mr. Adams retaliated by reciting
offensive language used by Mr. Canning, who in turn replied that he
had been speaking only in self-defence. Mr. Canning found occasion to
make again his peculiarly rasping remark that he should always strive
to show towards Mr. Adams the deference due to his "more advanced
years." After another very uncomfortable passage, Mr. Adams said that
the behavior of Mr. Canning in making the observations of members of
Congress a basis of official interrogations was a pretension the more
necessary to be resisted because this
"'was not the first time it had been raised by a British minister
here.' He asked, with great emotion, who that minister was. I
answered, 'Mr. Jackson.' 'And you got rid of him!' said Mr.
Canning, in a tone of violent passion--'and you got rid of
him!--and you got rid of him!' This repetition of the same words,
always in the same tone, was with pauses of a few seconds between
each of them, as if for a reply. I said: 'Sir, my reference to
the pretension of Mr. Jackson was not'--Here Mr. Canning
interrupted me by saying: 'If you think that by reference to Mr.
Jackson I am to be intimidated from the performance of my (p. 147)
duty you will find yourself greatly mistaken.' 'I had not,
sir,' said I, 'the most distant intention of intimidating you
from the performance of your duty; nor was it with the intention
of alluding to any subsequent occurrences of his mission;
but'--Mr. Canning interrupted me again by saying, still in a tone
of high exasperation,--'Let me tell you, sir, that your reference
to the case of Mr. Jackson is _exceedingly offensive_.' 'I do not
know,' said I, 'whether I shall be able to finish what I intended
to say, under such continual interruptions.'"
Mr. Canning thereupon intimated by a bow his willingness to listen,
and Mr. Adams reiterated what in a more fragmentary way he had already
said. Mr. Canning then made a formal speech, mentioning his desire "to
cultivate harmony and smooth down all remnants of asperity between the
two countries," again gracefully referred to the deference which he
should at all times pay to Mr. Adams's age, and closed by declaring,
with a significant emphasis, that he would "never forget the respect
due from him _to the American Government_." Mr. Adams bowed in silence
and the stormy interview ended. A day or two afterward the disputants
met by accident, and Mr. Canning showed such signs of resentment that
there passed between them a "bare salutation."
In the condition of our relations with Great Britain at the time (p. 148)
of these interviews any needless ill-feeling was strongly to be
deprecated. But Mr. Adams's temperament was such that he always saw
the greater chance of success in strong and spirited conduct; nor
could he endure that the dignity of the Republic, any more than its
safety, should take detriment in his hands. Moreover he understood
Englishmen better perhaps than they have ever been understood by any
other of the public men of the United States, and he handled and
subdued them with a temper and skill highly agreeable to contemplate.
The President supported him fully throughout the matter, and the
discomfiture and wrath of Mr. Canning never became even indirectly a
cause of regret to the country.
As the years allotted to Monroe passed on, the manoeuvring among the
candidates for the succession to the Presidency grew in activity.
There were several possible presidents in the field, and during the
"era of good feeling" many an aspiring politician had his brief period
of mild expectancy followed in most cases only too surely by a hopeless
relegation to obscurity. There were, however, four whose anticipations
rested upon a substantial basis. William H. Crawford, Secretary of the
Treasury, had been the rival of Monroe for nomination by the
Congressional caucus, and had then developed sufficient strength (p. 149)
to make him justly sanguine that he might stand next to Monroe in the
succession as he apparently did in the esteem of their common party.
Mr. Clay, Speaker of the House of Representatives, had such
expectations as might fairly grow out of his brilliant reputation,
powerful influence in Congress, and great personal popularity. Mr.
Adams was pointed out not only by his deserts but also by his position
in the Cabinet, it having been the custom heretofore to promote the
Secretary of State to the Presidency. It was not until the time of
election was near at hand that the strength of General Jackson,
founded of course upon the effect of his military prestige upon the
masses of the people, began to appear to the other competitors a
formidable element in the great rivalry. For a while Mr. Calhoun might
have been regarded as a fifth, since he had already become the great
chief of the South; but this cause of his strength was likewise his
weakness, since it was felt that the North was fairly entitled to
present the next candidate. The others, who at one time and another
had aspirations, like De Witt Clinton and Tompkins, were never really
formidable, and may be disregarded as insignificant threads in the
complex political snarl which must be unravelled.
[Illustration: Stratford Canning]
As a study of the dark side of political society during this (p. 150)
period Mr. Adams's Diary is profoundly interesting. He writes with a
charming absence of reserve. If he thinks there is rascality at work,
he sets down the names of the knaves and expounds their various
villainies of act and motive with delightfully outspoken frankness.
All his life he was somewhat prone, it must be confessed, to
depreciate the moral characters of others, and to suspect unworthy
designs in the methods or ends of those who crossed his path. It was
the not unnatural result of his own rigid resolve to be honest.
Refraining with the stern conscientiousness, which was in the
composition of his Puritan blood, from every act, whether in public or
in private life, which seemed to him in the least degree tinged with
immorality, he found a sort of compensation for the restraints and
discomforts of his own austerity in judging severely the less
punctilious world around him. Whatever other faults he had, it is
unquestionable that his uprightness was as consistent and unvarying as
can be reached by human nature. Yet his temptations were made the
greater and the more cruel by the beliefs constantly borne in upon him
that his rivals did not accept for their own governance in the contest
the same rules by which he was pledged to himself to abide. Jealousy
enhanced suspicion, and suspicion in turn pricked jealousy. It is (p. 151)
necessary, therefore, to be somewhat upon our guard in accepting
his estimates of men and acts at this period; though the broad general
impression to be gathered from his treatment of his rivals, even in
these confidential pages, is favorable at least to his justice of
disposition and honesty of intention.
At the outset Mr. Clay excited Mr. Adams's most lively resentment. The
policy which seemed most promising to that gentleman lay in antagonism
to the Administration, whereas, in the absence of substantial party
issues, there seemed, at least to members of that Administration, to
be no proper grounds for such antagonism. When, therefore, Mr. Clay
found or devised such grounds, the President and his Cabinet, vexed
and harassed by the opposition of so influential a man, not
unnaturally attributed his tactics to selfish and, in a political
sense, corrupt motives. Thus Mr. Adams stigmatized his opposition to
the Florida treaty as prompted by no just objection to its
stipulations, but by a malicious wish to bring discredit upon the
negotiator. Probably the charge was true, and Mr. Clay's honesty in
opposing an admirable treaty can only be vindicated at the expense of
his understanding,--an explanation certainly not to be accepted. But
when Mr. Adams attributed to the same motive of embarrassing the (p. 152)
Administration Mr. Clay's energetic endeavors to force a recognition
of the insurgent states of South America, he exaggerated the inimical
element in his rival's motives. It was the business of the President
and Cabinet, and preëminently of the Secretary of State, to see to it
that the country should not move too fast in this very nice and
perilous matter of recognizing the independence of rebels. Mr. Adams
was the responsible minister, and had to hold the reins; Mr. Clay,
outside the official vehicle, cracked the lash probably a little more
loudly than he would have done had he been on the coach-box. It may be
assumed that in advocating his various motions looking to the
appointment of ministers to the new states and to other acts of
recognition, he felt his eloquence rather fired than dampened by the
thought of how much trouble he was making for Mr. Adams; but that he
was at the same time espousing the cause to which he sincerely wished
well is probably true. His ardent temper was stirred by this struggle
for independence, and his rhetorical nature could not resist the
opportunities for fervid and brilliant oratory presented by this
struggle for freedom against mediæval despotism. Real convictions were
sometimes diluted with rodomontade, and a true feeling was to some
extent stimulated by the desire to embarrass a rival.
Entire freedom from prejudice would have been too much to expect (p. 153)
from Mr. Adams; but his criticisms of Clay are seldom marked by
any serious accusations or really bitter explosions of ill-temper.
Early in his term of office he writes that Mr. Clay has "already
mounted his South American great horse," and that his "project is that
in which John Randolph failed, to control or overthrow the Executive
by swaying the House of Representatives." Again he says that "Clay is
as rancorously benevolent as John Randolph." The sting of these
remarks lay rather in the comparison with Randolph than in their
direct allegations. In January, 1819, Adams notes that Clay has
"redoubled his rancor against me," and gives himself "free swing to
assault me ... both in his public speeches and by secret machinations,
without scruple or delicacy." The diarist gloomily adds, that "all
public business in Congress now connects itself with intrigues, and
there is great danger that the whole Government will degenerate into a
struggle of cabals." He was rather inclined to such pessimistic
vaticinations; but it must be confessed that he spoke with too much
reason on this occasion. In the absence of a sufficient supply of
important public questions to absorb the energies of the men in public
life, the petty game of personal politics was playing with unusual
zeal. As time went on, however, and the South American questions (p. 154)
were removed from the arena, Adams's ill-feeling towards Clay became
greatly mitigated. Clay's assaults and opposition also gradually
dwindled away; go-betweens carried to and fro disclaimers, made by the
principals, of personal ill-will towards each other; and before the
time of election was actually imminent something as near the _entente
cordiale_ was established as could be reasonably expected to exist
between competitors very unlike both in moral and mental
constitution.[4]
[Footnote 4: For a deliberate estimate of Clay's
character see Mr. Adams's Diary, v. 325.]
Mr. Adams's unbounded indignation and profound contempt were reserved
for Mr. Crawford, partly, it may be suspected by the cynically minded,
because Crawford for a long time seemed to be by far the most
formidable rival, but partly also because Crawford was in fact unable
to resist the temptation to use ignoble means for attaining an end
which he coveted too keenly for his own honor. It was only by degrees
that Adams began to suspect the underhand methods and malicious
practices of Crawford; but as conviction was gradually brought home to
him his native tendency towards suspicion was enhanced to an extreme
degree. He then came to recognize in Crawford a wholly selfish (p. 155)
and scheming politician, who had the baseness to retain his seat in
Mr. Monroe's Cabinet with the secret persistent object of giving the
most fatal advice in his power. From that time forth he saw in every
suggestion made by the Secretary of the Treasury only an insidious
intent to lead the Administration, and especially the Department of
State, into difficulty, failure, and disrepute. He notes, evidently
with perfect belief, that for this purpose Crawford was even covertly
busy with the Spanish ambassador to prevent an accommodation of our
differences with Spain. "Oh, the windings of the human heart!" he
exclaims; "possibly Crawford is not himself conscious of his real
motives for this conduct." Even the slender measure of charity
involved in this last sentence rapidly evaporated from the poisoned
atmosphere of his mind. He mentions that Crawford has killed a man in
a duel; that he leaves unanswered a pamphlet "supported by documents"
exhibiting him "in the most odious light, as sacrificing every
principle to his ambition." Because Calhoun would not support him for
the Presidency, Crawford stimulated a series of attacks upon the War
Department. He was the "instigator and animating spirit of the whole
movement both in Congress and at Richmond against Jackson and the
Administration." He was "a worm preying upon the vitals of the (p. 156)
Administration in its own body." He "solemnly deposed in a court
of justice that which is not true," for the purpose of bringing
discredit upon the testimony given by Mr. Adams in the same cause. But
Mr. Adams says of this that he cannot bring himself to believe that
Crawford has been guilty of wilful falsehood, though convicted of
inaccuracy by his own words; for "ambition debauches memory itself." A
little later he would have been less merciful. In some vexatious and
difficult commercial negotiations which Mr. Adams was conducting with
France, Crawford is "afraid of [the result] being too favorable."
To form a just opinion of the man thus unpleasantly sketched is
difficult. For nearly eight years Mr. Adams was brought into close and
constant relations with him, and as a result formed a very low opinion
of his character and by no means a high estimate of his abilities.
Even after making a liberal allowance for the prejudice naturally
supervening from their rivalry there is left a residuum of condemnation
abundantly sufficient to ruin a more vigorous reputation than Crawford
has left behind him. Apparently Mr. Calhoun, though a fellow
Southerner, thought no better of the ambitious Georgian than did Mr.
Adams, to whom one day he remarked that Crawford was "a very (p. 157)
singular instance of a man of such character rising to the eminence he
now occupies; that there has not been in the history of the Union
another man with abilities so ordinary, with services so slender, and
so thoroughly corrupt, who had contrived to make himself a candidate
for the Presidency." Nor was this a solitary expression of the
feelings of the distinguished South Carolinian.
Mr. E. H. Mills, Senator from Massachusetts, and a dispassionate
observer, speaks of Crawford with scant favor as "coarse, rough,
uneducated, of a pretty strong mind, a great intriguer, and determined
to make himself President." He adds: "Adams, Jackson, and Calhoun all
think well of each other, and are united at least in one thing,--to
wit, a most thorough dread and abhorrence of Crawford."
Yet Crawford was for many years not only never without eager
expectations of his own, which narrowly missed realization and might
not have missed it had not his health broken down a few months too
soon, but he had a large following, strong friends, and an extensive
influence. But if he really had great ability he had not the good
fortune of an opportunity to show it; and he lives in history rather
as a man from whom much was expected than as a man who achieved (p. 158)
much. One faculty, however, not of the best, but serviceable, he had
in a rare degree: he thoroughly understood all the artifices of
politics; he knew how to interest and organize partisans, to obtain
newspaper support, and generally to extend and direct his following
after that fashion which soon afterward began to be fully developed by
the younger school of our public men. He was the _avant courier_ of a
bad system, of which the first crude manifestations were received with
well-merited disrelish by the worthier among his contemporaries.
It is the more easy to believe that Adams's distrust of Crawford was a
sincere conviction, when we consider his behavior towards another
dangerous rival, General Jackson. In view of the new phase which the
relationship between these two men was soon to take on, Adams's hearty
championship of Jackson for several years prior to 1825 deserves
mention. The Secretary stood gallantly by the General at a crisis in
Jackson's life when he greatly needed such strong official backing,
and in an hour of extreme need Adams alone in the Cabinet of Monroe
lent an assistance which Jackson afterwards too readily forgot. Seldom
has a government been brought by the undue zeal of its servants into a
quandary more perplexing than that into which the reckless military
hero brought the Administration of President Monroe. Turned loose (p. 159)
in the regions of Florida, checked only by an uncertain and disputed
boundary line running through half-explored forests, confronted by a
hated foe whose strength he could well afford to despise, General
Jackson, in a war properly waged only against Indians, ran a wild and
lawless, but very vigorous and effective, career in Spanish
possessions. He hung a couple of British subjects with as scant trial
and meagre shrift as if he had been a mediæval free-lance; he marched
upon Spanish towns and peremptorily forced the blue-blooded commanders
to capitulate in the most humiliating manner; afterwards, when the
Spanish territory had become American, in his civil capacity as
Governor, he flung the Spanish Commissioner into jail. He treated
instructions, laws, and established usages as teasing cobwebs which
any spirited public servant was in duty bound to break; then he
quietly stated his willingness to let the country take the benefit of
his irregular proceedings and make him the scapegoat or martyr if such
should be needed. How to treat this too successful chieftain was no
simple problem. He had done what he ought not to have done, yet
everybody in the country was heartily glad that he had done it. He
ought not to have hung Arbuthnot and Ambrister, nor to have seized (p. 160)
Pensacola, nor later on to have imprisoned Callava; yet the general
efficiency of his procedure fully accorded with the secret disposition
of the country. It was, however, not easy to establish the propriety
of his trenchant doings upon any acknowledged principles of law, and
during the long period through which these disturbing feats extended,
Jackson was left in painful solitude by those who felt obliged to
judge his actions by rule rather than by sympathy. The President was
concerned lest his Administration should be brought into indefensible
embarrassment; Calhoun was personally displeased because the
instructions issued from his department had been exceeded; Crawford
eagerly sought to make the most of such admirable opportunities for
destroying the prestige of one who might grow into a dangerous rival;
Clay, who hated a military hero, indulged in a series of fierce
denunciations in the House of Representatives; Mr. Adams alone stood
gallantly by the man who had dared to take vigorous measures upon his
own sole responsibility. His career touched a kindred chord in Adams's
own independent and courageous character, and perhaps for the only
time in his life the Secretary of State became almost sophistical in
the arguments by which he endeavored to sustain the impetuous warrior
against an adverse Cabinet. The authority given to Jackson to (p. 161)
cross the Spanish frontier in pursuit of the Indian enemy was
justified as being only defensive warfare; then "all the rest," argued
Adams, "even to the order for taking the Fort of Barrancas by storm,
was incidental, deriving its character from the object, which was not
hostility to Spain, but the termination of the Indian war." Through
long and anxious sessions Adams stood fast in opposing "the unanimous
opinions" of the President, Crawford, Calhoun, and Wirt. Their policy
seemed to him a little ignoble and wholly blundering, because, he
said, "it is weakness and a confession of weakness. The disclaimer of
power in the Executive is of dangerous example and of evil
consequences. There is injustice to the officer in disavowing him,
when in principle he is strictly justifiable." This behavior upon Mr.
Adams's part was the more generous and disinterested because the
earlier among these doings of Jackson incensed Don Onis extremely and
were near bringing about the entire disruption of that important
negotiation with Spain upon which Mr. Adams had so much at stake. But
few civilians have had a stronger dash of the fighting element than
had Mr. Adams, and this impelled him irresistibly to stand shoulder to
shoulder with Jackson in such an emergency, regardless of possible
consequences to himself. He preferred to insist that the hanging (p. 162)
of Arbuthnot and Ambrister was according to the laws of war and to
maintain that position in the teeth of Stratford Canning rather than
to disavow it and render apology and reparation. So three years later
when Jackson was again in trouble by reason of his arrest of Callava,
he still found a stanch advocate in Adams, who, having made an argument
for the defence which would have done credit to a subtle-minded
barrister, concluded by adopting the sentiment of Hume concerning the
execution of Don Pantaleon de Sa by Oliver Cromwell,--if the laws of
nations had been violated, "it was by a signal act of justice
deserving universal approbation." Later still, on January 8, 1824,
being the anniversary of the victory of New Orleans, as if to make a
conspicuous declaration of his opinions in favor of Jackson, Mr. Adams
gave a great ball in his honor, "at which about one thousand persons
attended."[5]