CHRISTMAS EVE
Had it not been for Mr. Morris's sudden return from London, Calvert
would have felt alone, indeed, in Paris. Having received certain
intelligence concerning the plan for the purchase of the American debt
to France, Mr. Morris set off hastily for France and arrived there
several days before Mr. Jefferson's departure for Havre. This absence,
as all thought, was to be but temporary, but, when Mr. Jefferson left
Paris on that morning of the 26th of September, it was never to return.
He left his affairs in the hands of Calvert and Mr. Short, and, as for
the former, he was only too happy to plunge into work and so forget, if
possible, his own unhappiness. Mr. Morris easily divined it, however,
and its cause, and tried, in his cynical, kindly fashion, to divert the
young man. He made it a point to see Calvert frequently, and, indeed, it
was not only out of kindness of heart that he did so, but because he had
the greatest liking for the young gentleman and enjoyed his society
above that of most of his acquaintances. It was easy enough for the two
to see much of each other, for although the approach of winter brought a
slight return of gayety, Paris was dreary and deserted enough. That
first wave of fear which had seized upon the nobles had swept many of
them out of France to Turin, to Frankfort, to Metz, to Coblentz, and to
London. Many of those salons which Mr. Morris and Calvert had frequented
were already closed, hostesses and guests alike in exile and poverty.
Alarm succeeded alarm in Paris until, with the ill-starred feast to the
Regiment of Flanders and the march on Versailles, alarm rose to panic.
The incredible folly and stupidity which precipitated these events
aroused Mr. Morris's contempt and indignation to the utmost pitch.
"What malignant devil is it, Ned," he fairly groaned, as he and Calvert
sat over their wine one evening after dinner at the Legation, "that
urges their unfortunate Majesties on to their destruction? What could
have been more ill-advised, nay, more fatal in these starvation times,
than the banquet to the Flanders Regiment? And the presence at it of
their Majesties! Oh, Luxembourg must have been stricken mad to have
urged them to go thither! And once there, who or what could have
prevented that tipsy royalist enthusiasm, the wild burst of sympathy,
the trampling of the tri-color cockade? They say the Queen moved among
the half-crazed soldiers shining and beautiful as a star, boy. I had the
whole scene from Maupas, a cousin of Madame de Flahaut, who is in the
Body Guard. What wonder that Paris raged to remove the suborned Regiment
of Flanders! And, if only the King had remained firm and kept it at
Versailles, this other horror of the 5th and 6th of October would never
have happened. But what can you expect from such a monarch? As I wrote
President Washington this afternoon, 'If the reigning prince were not
the small-beer character he is, there can be but little doubt that,
watching events and making a tolerable use of them, he would regain his
authority; but what will you have from a creature who, situated as he
is, eats and drinks, sleeps well and laughs, and is as merry a grig as
lives? There is, besides, no possibility of serving him, for, at the
slightest show of opposition, he gives up everything and every person.'
And yet I would like to attempt it, if only to thwart those rampant,
feather-brained philosophers who are hurrying France to her doom."
"It is Lafayette I would like to serve," said Calvert, moodily. "D'Azay
and I were with him at the Hôtel de Ville for the greater part of the
day of the 5th of October. He was no longer master of himself or of
those he commanded, and I could scarce believe that this harried,
brow-beaten, menaced leader of the Milice was the alert and intrepid
soldier I had served under before Yorktown."
"Ah, Ned, there is a man whom this revolution has spoiled and will spoil
even more! Another lost reputation, I fear. Truly a dreadful situation
to find one's self in. Marched by compulsion, guarded by his own troops,
who suspect and threaten him! Obliged to do what he abhors, or suffer an
ignominious death, with the certainty that the sacrifice of his own life
will not prevent the mischief! And he has but himself to thank--the
dreadful events of the 5th and 6th of October were, as far as concerned
Lafayette, but the natural consequences of his former policy. Did I not
warn him long ago of the madness of trimming between the court and
popular party, of the danger of a vast, undisciplined body of troops?"
He got up and stumped about the room, irritation and pity expressed in
every feature of his countenance, not wholly unmixed, it must be
confessed (or so it seemed to Calvert, who could not help being a little
amused thereat), with a certain satisfaction at his perspicacity.
Suddenly he burst out laughing.
"After all, there is a humorous side to the Marquis's tardy march to
Versailles with his rabble of soldiers. As the old Duchesse d'Azay said
the other evening to the Bishop of Autun and myself, 'Lafayette et sa
Garde Nationale ressemblent à l'arc-en-ciel et n'arrivent qu'après
l'orage!'--I will be willing to bet you a dinner at the Cafe de l'École
that the Bishop repeats it within a week as his own _bon mot_!"
But Mr. Morris had graver charges against the Bishop than the
confiscation of a witty saying. Over Talleyrand's motion for the public
sale of church property he lost all patience, and did not hesitate to
point out to him one evening, when they supped together at Madame de
Flahaut's, the serious objections to be urged against such a step. 'Twas
but one, however, of the many signs of the times which both irritated
and pained him, for he was genuinely and ardently interested in the fate
of France, and looked on with alarm and sadness at the events taking
place. His own plan for a supply of flour from America and the
negotiations for the purchase to France of the American debt, which he
was endeavoring to conclude with Necker, were alternately renewed and
broken off in a most exasperating fashion, owing to that minister's
short-sighted policy and niggardliness. Indeed, France's finances were
in a hopelessly deplorable state, and Mr. Morris looked on in dismay at
the various futile plans suggested as remedies--at the proposal to make
the bankrupt Caisse d'Escompte a national bank, at the foolish Caisse
Patriotique, and at the issue of assignats.
"If they only had a financier of the calibre of Hamilton," said Mr.
Morris to Calvert; "but they haven't a man to compare with that young
genius. Necker is only a sublimated bank-clerk. Indeed, I think you or I
could conduct the finances of this unhappy country better than they are
at present conducted," he added, laughing. "I have great hopes of you as
a financier, Ned, since that affair of the Holland loans, and as for
myself, Luxembourg has urged me seriously to enter the ministry. 'Tis a
curious proposition, but these visionary philosophers, who are trying to
pilot the ship of state into a safe harbor, know nothing of their
business, and will fetch up on some hidden reef pretty soon, if I
mistake not. The Assembly is already held in utter contempt--their
sittings are tumultuous farces--the thing they call a constitution is
utterly good for nothing. And there is Lafayette, with an ambition far
beyond his talents, aspiring not only to the command of all the forces,
but to a leadership in the Assembly--a kind of Generalissimo-Dictatorship.
'Tis almost inconceivable folly, and, to cap all, that scoundrel Mirabeau
has the deputies under his thumb. Can a country be more utterly prostrated
than France is at this moment?"
"To get Lafayette and Mirabeau together is her only chance of safety, I
think," said Calvert, in reply. "The leader of the people and the leader
of the Assembly, working together, might do much."
"Impossible," objected Mr. Morris, decidedly, "and I do not blame
Lafayette for refusing to ally himself with so profligate a creature as
Mirabeau, great and undeniable as are his talents. Why, boy, all Paris
knows that while he leads the Assembly, he is in the pay of the King and
Queen."
"And yet I heard you yourself declare," returned Calvert, with a smile,
"that men do not go into the administration as the direct road to
Heaven. I think it were well for this country to avail itself of the
great abilities of Mirabeau and make it to his interest to be true to
it." And in the long argument which ensued over the advisability of
taking Monsieur de Mirabeau into the administration, Calvert had all the
best of it, and judged Mirabeau's talents and usefulness more accurately
than Mr. Morris, keen and practical as that gentleman usually was.
Toward the middle of November word came to the American Legation at
Paris, by the British packet, of the appointment of Mr. Jefferson to the
Secretaryship of Foreign Affairs under President Washington, and the
commission of Mr. Short as chargé d'affaires at Paris until a new
minister could be appointed. This news was confirmed six weeks later by
a letter from Mr. Jefferson himself to Calvert and Mr. Morris:
* * * * *
It had been my ardent wish to return to France and see the ending of the
revolution now convulsing that unhappy country, but the sense of duty
which sent me thither when I had no wish to leave America now constrains
me to remain here. Hamilton has been made Secretary of the Treasury, and
he is anxious to have you return, that he may associate you with him in
some way. But I have told him that, greatly as I should like to see you
and to see you busy in your own country, it was my opinion that you had
better stay abroad for a year or two longer and study the governments of
the different European powers before returning to the United States. You
can learn much in that time, and your usefulness and advancement in your
own country will be proportionately greater. At any rate, I will beg of
you to stay in Paris until you can arrange some of my private affairs,
left at loose ends. I enclose a list of the most important, with
instructions. Mr. Short will attend to the official ones for the
present. His commission was the first one signed by President
Washington. Pray present my kindest regards to Mr. Morris, and, with the
hope of hearing from you both soon and frequently,
Your friend and servant,
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
* * * * *
This letter reached Mr. Calvert on the day before Christmas, and added
not a little to the gloom of an anniversary already sufficiently
depressing, passed so far from friends and home and amid such untoward
surroundings. He and Mr. Short were in Mr. Jefferson's little octagonal
library, still discussing the letter, among others received by the same
packet, when Mr. Morris came in, the three gentlemen intending to have a
bachelor dinner at the Legation.
"I see you have the news about Mr. Jefferson," he said, looking at Mr.
Calvert and Mr. Short. "I have a letter from him myself and a long one
from President Washington, which I have permission to communicate to you
two, but which must go no further for the present," and he handed it to
Mr. Calvert. "As you see, 'tis my orders to proceed to England as
accredited agent to the British Government, with the object of settling
the treaty disputes and of establishing, if possible, a commercial
alliance with Great Britain. The President has written me at length on
the subject, and I shall start for London as soon as possible--within a
month, I hope."
"'Tis a great compliment," said Mr. Short, a little enviously.
"And a very delicate mission," added Calvert. And so it was, and an
ungrateful one, too. Several of the stipulations of the Peace of Paris,
though ratified several years previously, were still unfulfilled. The
British had failed to surrender the frontier posts included in the
territory of the United States, and the United States, on her side, had
failed to pay the debts due to British merchants before the war. Now,
although America, at Washington's instigation, was eager to fulfil her
part of the treaty, England still held off, and 'twas to learn her
ultimate intentions, and persuade her, if possible, to carry out her
share of the conditions, that the President had named Mr. Gouverneur
Morris as private agent to the British Government. He was furthermore to
discover whether England would send a minister to the infant union and
also what her dispositions were in regard to making a commercial treaty.
This mission was discussed at length during dinner and until late into
the evening, when Mr. Short, pleading a supper engagement with the
Duchesse d'Orléans, went away, leaving Mr. Morris and Calvert together.
"And now, Ned," said the older man, as they sat comfortably before the
fire after Mr. Short's departure, "your duties here will detain you no
longer than mine, so why cannot we take that journey to England
together? You remember you would not go the last time I asked you."
"There is nothing to keep me now," returned Calvert, quietly, "and--and
in truth I shall be glad enough to get away," he said, rising, and
moving restlessly about the room. And, indeed, he was anxious to get
away and conquer, if possible, in some unfamiliar scene, the
disappointment which was consuming him.
"I saw her a few days ago at Madame de Montmorin's," said Mr. Morris, in
a kindly tone. "She was looking very beautiful and asked about you--do
you know, boy, I think she would be glad to see you again? Haven't you
been to the rue St. Honoré all this while?"
"No," replied Calvert, "and I shall not go."
"The hardness of youth! My young philosopher, when you are older you
will be glad to make compromises with Happiness and go to meet her half
way. I think you can be a little cruel in your sure young strength, Ned,
and a woman's heart is easily hurt," said Mr. Morris, with a sudden,
unaccustomed seriousness.
"I am not much of a philosopher. I tried my fortune and failed, and I
thought I could bear it, but it is unendurable. Perhaps I shall find it
more tolerable away from her," said Calvert, gloomily.
"Then if you won't tempt your fortune further, come to London with me,
Ned. I promise you diversion and excitement. There are other interesting
things to study besides the 'governments of different European powers,'"
and Mr. Morris laughed and tapped Mr. Jefferson's letter, which he held
in his hand. "I am not averse to going away myself. Ugh! Paris has
become insufferable these days, with its riots and murders and houses
marked for destruction. 'Tis the irony of fate that this breeding-spot
of every kind and degree of vice known under high Heaven should come
forward in the sacred cause of liberty! Besides all of which, Madame de
Flahaut has found a new admirer. She swore eternal affection for me, but
nothing here below can last forever," he went on, in his old cynical
fashion. "I embarrass her manoeuvres, and 'twere well I were away and
leave a fair field for my rival." As he spoke, the clock on the mantel
chimed the hour of half after eleven.
"'Tis Christmas eve, Ned," he said, getting up. "Perhaps we sha'n't be
in Paris for another, and so I propose we go and hear mass at Notre
Dame. 'Tis a most Christian and edifying ceremony, I believe. Garat is
to sing the Te Deum, so Madame de Flauhaut tells me."
The two gentlemen decided to walk, the night being clear and frosty, and
so, dismissing Mr. Morris's carriage, they sauntered leisurely down to
the Place Louis XV. and so by the way of the Quai de Bourbon and the
Quai de l'École over the Pont Neuf to the great parvis of Notre Dame.
Arrived at the Cathedral, the Suisse, in scarlet velvet and gold lace,
gave them places over against the choir, where they could hear and see
all that passed. Though 'twas midnight, the great church was filled with
a throng of worshippers, who knelt and rose and knelt again as mass
proceeded. From the altar rose clouds of incense from censers swung by
acolytes; now and then could be heard the tinkle of a silver bell at the
Elevation of the Host and the voice of the priest, monotonous and
indistinct, in that vast edifice. Lights twinkled, the air grew heavy
with incense, and great bursts of music rolled from the organ-loft.
'Twas a magnificent ceremonial, and Mr. Morris and Calvert came away
thrilled and awed. They made their way out by the old rue St. Louis and
the Quai des Orfèvres, and, keeping still to the left bank of the Seine,
did not cross until they came to the Pont Royal. From the bridge they
could see far down the river and the lights of Paris on both sides of
the water. A feathery sprinkling of snow, which had fallen in the
afternoon, lay over everything; but the rack of clouds which had brought
it had blown away, and the night was frosty and starlit. A tremulous
excitement and unrest seemed to be in the keen air.
"Tis a doomed city, I think, and we are better away," said Mr. Morris,
leaning on the stone parapet of the bridge and looking far out over the
river and at the silent ranks of houses lining its shore. A great bell
from some tower on the left boomed out two strokes. "Two o'clock! 'Tis
Christmas morning, and we had best be getting back, Ned." Together they
walked under the keen, frosty stars as far as the rue St. Honoré, and
then, with best Christmas wishes, they parted, Mr. Morris going to the
rue Richelieu, and Calvert back to the Legation.