CHAPTER III.

IN Canning’s note to Pinkney of Sept. 23, 1808,--the same

paper which expressed his Majesty’s regret for the embargo “as a

measure of inconvenient restriction upon the American people,”--a

paragraph easily overlooked had been inserted to provide for future

chances of fortune:--

“It is not improbable, indeed, that some alterations may

be made in the Orders of Council as they are at present

framed,--alterations calculated, not to abate their spirit or

impair their principle, but to adapt them more exactly to the

different state of things which has fortunately grown up in

Europe, and to combine all practicable relief to neutrals with

a more severe pressure upon the enemy. But of alterations to

be made with this view only it would be uncandid to take any

advantage in the present discussion, however it might be hoped

that in their practical effect they might prove beneficial to

America, provided the operation of the embargo were not to

prevent her from reaping that benefit.”

This intended change in the orders depended on the political change

which converted Spain from an enemy into an ally. Spencer Perceval

did not care to press the cause of British commerce so far as to tax

American wheat and salt-fish on their way to Spain and Portugal, where

he must himself provide money to pay for them after they were bought by

the army commissaries. Accordingly, in December, 1808, a new Order in

Council appeared, doing away with the export duties lately imposed by

Parliament on foreign articles passing through England. Thenceforward

American wheat might be shipped at Liverpool for the Spanish peninsula

without paying ten shillings a quarter to the British Treasury,[34] if

only the embargo did not prevent American wheat from entering Liverpool

at all.

In a short note, dated December 24, Canning enclosed to Pinkney a copy

of the new order; and while taking care to explain that this measure

conceded nothing in principle, he offered it as a step toward removing

the most offensive, if not the most oppressive, restraint imposed on

American commerce by the Orders of 1807:--

“As I have more than once understood from you that the part of

the Orders in Council which this order goes to mitigate is that

which was felt most sorely by the United States, I have great

pleasure in being authorized to communicate it to you.”

Pinkney was in no humor to bear more of what he considered Canning’s

bad taste, and he could have but one opinion of the measure which

Canning announced. “This order is a shadow,” he wrote to Madison,[35]

“and if meant to conciliate us, ridiculous.” His reply to Canning

verged for the first time on abruptness, as though the moment were near

when he meant to speak another language.

“It is perfectly true,” began Pinkney’s acknowledgment of Dec.

28, 1808,[36] “as the concluding paragraph of your letter

supposes me to believe, that the United States have viewed with

great sensibility the pretension of this Government (which, as

a pretension, the present order reasserts without much if at

all modifying its practical effect) to levy imposts upon their

commerce, outward and inward, which the Orders in Council of the

last year were to constrain to pass through British ports. But

it is equally true that my Government has constantly protested

against the entire system with which that pretension was

connected, and has in consequence required the repeal, not the

modification, of the British Orders in Council.”

This reception roused the temper of Canning, who could not understand,

if Pinkney honestly wished harmony, why he should repel what might be

taken as a kindness; yet the same reasons which induced him to make the

advance impelled him to bear with the American minister’s roughness.

The moment was ill adapted for more quarrels. Napoleon had occupied

Madrid three weeks before, and was driving Sir John Moore’s army in

headlong flight back to England; the dreams of midsummer had vanished;

the overthrow of France was no nearer than before the Spanish uprising;

the United States were seriously discussing war, and however loudly a

few interested Englishmen might at times talk, the people of England

never wanted war with the United States. Canning found himself obliged

to suppress his irritation, and so far from checking the spirit of

concession to America, was drawn into new and more decided advances.

Spencer Perceval felt the same impulse, and of his own accord proposed

other steps to his colleague, after Pinkney’s letter of December 28 had

been read and considered by the Cabinet. With the impression of that

letter fresh in the minds of both, Canning wrote to Perceval on the

last day of the year:[37]--

“We have given quite proof enough of our determination to

maintain our principle to enable us to relax, if in other

respects advisable, without danger of being suspected of giving

way. The paragraph in my letter to Pinkney, of September 23,

prepares the world for any relaxations that we may think fit to

make, provided they are coupled with increased severity against

France; and though this last consideration is something impaired

by my last communication to Pinkney, yet the manner in which he

has received that communication (with respect to which reception

I partake of the fury which you describe as having been kindled

in Hammond) leaves us quite at liberty to take any new steps

without explanation, and exempts us from any hazard of seeing

them too well received.”

The year 1809 began with this new spirit of accommodation in British

councils. The causes which produced it were notorious. From the moment

Europe closed her ports, in the autumn of 1807, articles commonly

supplied from the Continent rose to speculative prices, and after the

American embargo the same effect followed with American produce. Flax,

linseed, tallow, timber, Spanish wool, silk, hemp, American cotton

doubled or trebled in price in the English markets during the years

1807 and 1808.[38] Colonial produce declined in the same proportion.

Quantities of sugar and coffee overfilled the warehouses of London,

while the same articles could not be bought at Amsterdam and Antwerp at

prices three, four, and five times those asked on the Royal Exchange.

Under the Orders in Council, the whole produce of the West Indies, shut

from Europe by Napoleon and from the United States by the embargo, was

brought to England, until mere plethora stopped accumulation.

Debarred from their natural outlets, English merchandise and

manufactures were forced into every other market which seemed to offer

a hope of sale or barter. When Portugal fell into Napoleon’s hands,

and the royal family took refuge in Brazil under British protection,

English merchants glutted Brazil with their goods, until the beach

at Rio Janeiro was covered with property, which perished for want of

buyers and warehouses. The Spanish trade, thrown open soon afterward,

resulted in similar losses. In the effort to relieve the plethora at

home, England gorged the few small channels of commerce that remained

in her control.

These efforts coincided with a drain of specie on government account to

support the Spanish patriots. The British armies sent to Spain required

large sums in coin for their supplies, and the Spaniards required

every kind of assistance. The process of paying money on every hand

and receiving nothing but worthless produce could not long continue

without turning the exchanges against London; yet a sudden call for

specie threatened to shake the foundations of society. Never was credit

so rotten. Speculation was rampant, and inflation accompanied it. None

of the familiar signs of financial disaster were absent. Visionary

joint-stock enterprises flourished. Discounts at long date, or without

regard to proper security, could be obtained with ease from the private

banks and bankers who were competing for business; and although the

Bank of England followed its usual course, neither contracting nor

expanding its loans and issues, suddenly, at the close of 1808, gold

coin rose at a leap from a nominal rate of 103 to the alarming premium

of 113. The exchanges had turned, and the inevitable crash was near.

The political outlook took the same sombre tone as the finances. The

failure of the Spaniards and the evacuation of Spain by the British

army after the loss of Sir John Moore at Corunna, January 16, destroyed

confidence in all political hopes. Lord Castlereagh, as war-secretary,

was most exposed to attack. Instead of defending him, Canning set the

example of weakening his influence. Aware that the Administration had

not the capacity to hold its own, Canning undertook to reform it. As

early as October, 1808, he talked freely of Castlereagh’s incompetence,

and made no secret of his opinion that the Secretary for War must go

out.[39] Whether his judgment of Castlereagh’s abilities were right or

wrong was a matter for English history to decide; but Americans might

at least wonder that the Convention of Cintra and the campaign of Sir

John Moore were not held to be achievements as respectable as the

American diplomacy of Canning or the commercial experiments of Spencer

Perceval. Canning himself agreed that Perceval was little, if at all,

superior to Castlereagh, and he saw hope for England chiefly in his own

elevation to the post of the Duke of Portland.

Although no one fully understood all that had been done by the Portland

ministry, enough was known to render their fall certain; and Canning

saw himself sinking with the rest. He made active efforts to secure

his own safety and to rise above the misfortunes which threatened to

overwhelm his colleagues. Among other annoyances, he felt the recoil

of his American policy. The tone taken by Pinkney coincided with

the warlike threats reported by Erskine, and with the language of

Campbell’s Report to the House of Representatives. Erskine’s despatch

of November 26, in which Campbell’s Report was enclosed, and his

alarming despatches of December 3 and 4 were received by Canning about

the middle of January,[40] at a time when the Ministry was sustained

only by royal favor. The language and the threats of these advices

were such as Canning could not with dignity overlook or with safety

resent; but he overlooked them. January 18, at a diplomatic dinner

given by him on the Queen’s birthday, he took Pinkney aside to tell him

that the Ministry were willing to consider the Resolutions proposed in

Campbell’s Report as putting an end to the difficulties which prevented

a satisfactory arrangement.[41] Pinkney, surprised by Canning’s “more

than usual kindness and respect,” suggested deferring the subject to a

better occasion; and Canning readily acquiesced, appointing January 22

as the day for an interview.

The next morning, January 19, Parliament met, and American affairs

were instantly made the subject of attack on ministers. In the Lords,

Grenville declared that “the insulting and sophistical answer” returned

by Canning to the American offer, persuaded him “that the intention

of the King’s government is to drive things to extremity with

America.” Lord Hawkesbury the Home Secretary, who had succeeded his

father as Earl of Liverpool, replied in the old tone that ministers

felt no disposition to irritate America, but that national dignity

and importance were not to be sacrificed “at the very moment when

America seemed so blind to her own interest, and betrayed so decided a

partiality in favor of France.”[42] In the Commons, Whitbread and the

other leaders of opposition echoed the attack, but Canning did not echo

the reply.

“The same infatuation,” said Whitbread,[43] “seems now to prevail

that existed in the time of the late American war. There were the

same taunts, the same sarcasms, and the same assertions that America

cannot do without us.” Only a few weeks earlier or later, Canning

would have met such criticisms in his loftiest tone, and with more

reason than in 1807 or in 1808. In his desk were Erskine’s latest

despatches, announcing impending war in every accent of defiance

and in many varieties of italics and capital letters; fresh in his

memory was his own official pledge that “no step which could even

mistakenly be construed into concession should be taken” while a doubt

existed whether America had wholly abandoned her attempt at commercial

restriction. Yet instead of maintaining England’s authority at the

moment when for the first time it was threatened by the United States,

Canning became apologetic and yielding. Repeating the commonplaces of

the newspapers that America had sided with France, and even going so

far as to assert, what he best knew to be an error, that the Orders

in Council had not been the cause of the embargo, and “it was now a

notorious fact that no such ground had been laid for the embargo;”

after declaring the exclusion of British war-vessels from American

harbors to have been the chief obstacle to the compromise offered by

America,--treading, with what seemed a very uncertain foot, among

these slippery and ill-balanced stepping-stones, he reached the

point where he meant to rest. The “Chesapeake” Proclamation, which

excluded British war-ships from American harbors, being his chief

grievance, any settlement which removed that grievance would be so far

satisfactory; and for this reason the measures proposed in Campbell’s

Report, though clothed in hostile language, might, if made known to the

British government in amicable terms, have led to the acceptance of

the compromise proposed, since they excluded French as well as English

ships of war from American ports.

Canning next turned to Pinkney to ascertain how much concession would

be safe. The interview took place January 22; but Pinkney’s powers

had been withdrawn, and he neither could nor would furnish Canning

with any assurance on which a concession could be offered with the

certainty either that it would be accepted, or that it would be

refused. Canning seemed particularly anxious to know how the embargo

could be effectually enforced against commerce with France, after being

removed in regard to England.[44] He “presumed that the government

of the United States would not complain if the naval force of this

country should assist in preventing such a commerce.”[45] Pinkney

felt many doubts of Canning’s good faith,[46] and had every reason

for avoiding committal of himself or of his Government. According to

his own account, he declined to enter into the discussion of details,

and confined himself to general encouragement of Canning’s good

disposition.[47]

After experimenting upon Pinkney, much as he had sounded Parliament,

Canning lost not an hour in composing the new instructions to Erskine.

Four in number, all bearing the same date of January 23, they dealt

successively with each of the disputed points; but in order to

understand the embroilment they caused, readers must carry in mind,

even at some effort of memory, precisely what Canning ordered Erskine

to do, and precisely what Erskine did.

The first instruction dealt with the “Chesapeake” affair, and the

Proclamation occasioned by it. Accepting Gallatin’s idea that the

Proclamation being merged in the general non-intercourse would cease to

exist as a special and separate provision of law, Canning instructed

Erskine that if French ships of war should be excluded from American

ports, and if the Proclamation should be tacitly withdrawn, he need no

longer insist upon the formal recall. Further, Gallatin had suggested

that Congress was about to exclude foreign seamen by law from national

ships; and Canning admitted also this evasion of his demand that the

United States should engage not to countenance desertions. Finally, he

withdrew the demand for disavowals which had wrecked Rose’s mission.

Evidently the British government wished to settle the “Chesapeake”

affair. Had Canning in like manner swept away his old conditions

precedent to withdrawal of the Orders in Council, his good faith

would have been above suspicion; but he approached that subject in a

different spirit, and imposed one condition after another while he

adopted the unusual course of putting each new condition into the

mouth of some American official. He drew from Erskine’s despatches the

inference that Madison, Smith, and Gallatin were willing to recognize

in express terms the validity of the British “Rule of 1756.”[48] For

this misunderstanding Erskine was to blame,[49] but Canning was alone

responsible for the next remark, that “Mr. Pinkney has recently, but

for the first time, expressed to me his opinion that there will be no

indisposition on the part of his Government to the enforcement, by

the naval power of Great Britain,” of the Act of Congress declaring

non-intercourse with France. On the strength of these supposed

expressions of William Pinkney, Madison, Smith, and Gallatin, none of

which was official or in writing, Canning concluded:--

“I flatter myself that there will be no difficulty in obtaining

a distinct and official recognition of these conditions from

the American government. For this purpose you are at liberty

to communicate this despatch _in extenso_ to the American

government.”

The chief interest of these instructions lay in the question whether

Canning meant in good faith to offer on any conditions a withdrawal of

the Orders in Council. The course of his own acts and of Perceval’s

measures, suggested that he did not intend to offer any terms which

the United States could accept. His remark to Perceval three weeks

before, that they were quite at liberty to take new steps without

“any hazard of seeing them too well received,” pointed in the same

direction. Yet motives were enigmas too obscure for search, and the

motives of Canning in this instance were more perplexing than usual. If

he was serious in hoping an agreement, how could he insist on requiring

official recognition of the right of Great Britain to enforce the

municipal laws of the United States when he afterward admitted that

such a claim “could not well find its way into a stipulation; that he

had nevertheless believed it proper to propose the condition to the

United States; that he should have been satisfied with the rejection

of it; and that the consequence would have been that they should have

intercepted the commerce to which it referred, if any such commerce

should be attempted”?[50] In the instructions to Erskine he imposed the

condition as essential to the agreement,--the same condition which he

thought “could not well find its way into a stipulation,” and which “he

should have been satisfied” to see rejected.

For two years Canning had lost no opportunity of charging the American

government with subservience to Napoleon; even in these instructions

he alleged Jefferson’s “manifest partiality” to France as a reason why

England could entertain no propositions coming from him. He had in his

hands Madison’s emphatic threats of war; how then could he conceive of

obtaining from Madison an express recognition of the British Rule of

1756, which Madison had most deeply pledged himself to resist?

On the other hand, Canning showed forbearance and a wish for peace, by

leaving Erskine minister at Washington as well as by passing unnoticed

Madison’s threats of war; and he betrayed a singular incapacity to

understand the bearing of his own demands when he directed Erskine

to communicate his instructions _in extenso_ to the American

government. Had he intelligently acted in bad faith, he would not have

given the President, whose attachment to France he suspected, the

advantage of seeing these instructions, which required that America

should become a subject State of England.

Perhaps a partial clew to these seeming contradictions might be found

in the peculiar traits of Canning’s character. He belonged to a class

of men denied the faculty of realizing the sensibilities of others. At

the moment when he took this tone of authority toward America, he gave

mortal offence to his own colleague Lord Castlereagh, by assuming a

like attitude toward him. He could not understand, and he could never

train himself to regard, the rule that such an attitude between States

as between gentlemen was not admitted among equals.

Whatever was the reason of Canning’s conduct, its effect was that of

creating the impression of bad faith by offering terms intended to

be refused. The effect of bad faith was the more certain because the

instructions closed by giving Erskine some latitude, not as to the

conditions which were to be distinctly and officially recognized, but

as to the form in which the recognition might be required:--

“Upon the receipt here of an official note containing an

engagement for the adoption of the three conditions above

specified, his Majesty will be prepared on the faith of such

engagement,--either immediately, if the repeal shall have been

immediate in America or on any day specified by the American

government for that repeal,--reciprocally to recall the Orders

in Council.”

The form of the required engagement was left to Erskine’s discretion;

and in case Erskine failed, Canning would be still at liberty to claim,

as he afterward did, that his conditions were not so rigorously meant

as Erskine should have supposed them to be.

Meanwhile the Government of England was falling to pieces. Day by day

the situation became more alarming. For months after these despatches

were sent, the Commons passed their time in taking testimony and

listening to speeches intended to prove or disprove that the Duke of

York, commander-in-chief of the army, was in the habit of selling

officers’ commissions through the agency of his mistress, a certain

Mrs. Clarke; and although the Duke protested his innocence, the

scandal drove him from his office. The old King, blind and infirm,

was quite unfit to bear the shame of his son’s disgrace; while the

Prince of Wales stood no better than the Duke of York either in his

father’s esteem or in public opinion. The Ministry was rent by faction;

Perceval, Castlereagh, and Canning were at cross purposes, while the

Whigs were so weak that they rather feared than hoped their rivals’

fall. Whatever might be the factiousness of Congress or the weakness of

government at Washington, the confusion in Parliament was worse, and

threatened worse dangers.

“All power and influence of Perceval in the House is quite gone

by,” wrote a Whig member, February 16.[51] “He speaks without

authority and without attention paid to him; and Canning has

made two or three such rash declarations that he is little

attended to. You may judge the situation of the House, when I

tell you we were last night nearly three quarters of an hour

debating about the evidence of a drunken footman by Perceval

suggesting modes of ascertaining how to convict him of his

drunkenness,--Charles Long [one of the Administration], near

whom I was sitting telling me at the time what a lamentable

proof it was of the want of some man of sense and judgment

to lead the House. There is no government in the House of

Commons,--you may be assured the thing does not exist; and

whether they can ever recover their tone of power remains to be

proved. At present Mr. Croker, Mr. D. Brown, and Mr. Beresford

are the leaders.... The Cintra Convention, or the general

campaign, or the American question, are minor considerations,

and indeed do not enter into the consideration of any one.”

The House of Lords maintained more appearance of dignity; and there,

February 17, four-and-twenty hours after Colonel Fremantle wrote this

letter, Lord Grenville began a debate on American affairs. As a test of

Tory sincerity in view of what Erskine was soon to do at Washington,

the debate--as well as all else that was said of American affairs

during the session--deserved more than ordinary notice, if only in

justice to the British ministry, whose language was to receive a

commentary they did not expect.[52]

The most significant speech came from Lord Sidmouth. The conservatism

of this peer stood above reproach, and compared closely with that of

Spencer Perceval. Rather than abandon the “established principle” of

the Rule of 1756, he far preferred an American war. He proved his

stubborn Tory consistency too clearly, both before and after 1809, to

warrant a suspicion of leanings toward liberal or American sympathies;

but his speech of February 17 supporting Grenville, and charging

ministers with bad faith, was long and earnest. He called attention to

the scandal that while the Government professed in the speech from the

Throne a persuasion “that in the result the enemy will be convinced of

the impolicy of persevering in a system which retorts upon himself, in

so much greater proportion, those evils which he endeavors to inflict,”

yet instead of retorting those evils, Perceval licensed the export and

import both with France and Holland of the very articles which those

countries wished to sell and buy, while Canning at the same moment

rejected the American offers of trade because he thought it “important

in the highest degree that the disappointment of the hopes of the enemy

should not have been purchased by any concession.”

Ministers might disregard Grenville’s furious denunciation of the

orders as an act of the most egregious folly and the most unexampled

ignorance that ever disgraced the councils of a State; they might even

close their ears to Sidmouth’s charge that the folly and ignorance of

the orders were surpassed by their dishonesty,--but not even Spencer

Perceval could deny or forget that while a year before, Feb. 15, 1808,

forty-eight peers voted against him, on Feb. 17, 1809, seventy lords,

in person or by proxy, supported Grenville. While the opposition gained

twenty-two votes, the government gained only nine.

The impression of weakness in the ministry was increased by the energy

with which the authors of the orders stood at bay in their defence.

When Whitbread in the House of Commons renewed the attack, and the

House, March 6, entered on the debate, James Stephen came forward

as the champion of his own cause. Stephen’s speech,[53] published

afterward as a pamphlet, was intended to be an official as well as

a final answer to attacks against the orders, and was conclusive in

regard to the scope and motives of Perceval’s scheme. Neither Canning

nor Liverpool spoke with personal knowledge to be compared with that of

Stephen. Canning in particular had nothing to do with the orders except

as a subject of diplomatic evasion. Stephen, Perceval, and George Rose

were the parents of commercial restriction, and knew best their own

objects. With frankness creditable to him, but contrasting with the

double-toned language of Perceval and Canning, Stephen always placed

in the foreground the commercial objects he wanted and expected to

attain. His speech of March 6, 1809, once more asserted, in language

as positive as possible, that the orders had no other purpose than to

stop the American trade with France because it threatened to supplant

British trade. The doctrine of retaliation, or the object of retorting

evils on France, had nothing to do with Stephen’s scheme. His words

were clear, for like a true enthusiast he was wholly intent on the idea

in which he thought safety depended.

Canning also planted himself on advanced ground. The question, he said,

was between England and France; not between England and America. On

the principles of international law he had no defence to offer for

the Orders in Council as between England and America. “He was willing

to admit that it was not upon the poor pretence of the existing law

of nations, but upon the extension of that law (an extension just and

necessary), that his Majesty’s ministers were to rely, in the present

instance, for justification.” This extension rested on the excuse

that France had first discarded the law of nations; and America, in

attempting to give to Great Britain the priority in wrong, had incurred

this censure,--“that she had brought a false charge, and persisted in

it.” In his opinion, the American offer to withdraw the embargo in

favor of England and to enforce it against France, “was illusory; he

might add, in the language of Mr. Madison, ‘it was insulting.’” Those

who accused ministers of a disinclination to adopt pacific measures

respecting America had lost sight of the facts. “We had rather gone

too far than done too little. We twice offered to negotiate; yet the

Non-importation Act was not revoked.”

If this was Canning’s true state of mind, his instructions to Erskine

less than a month before, offering to abandon the Orders in Council,

seemed to admit no defence. Still less could be explained how President

Madison, after reading these speeches, should have expected from

Canning the approval of any possible arrangement. Yet the irritation

of Canning’s tone showed him to be ill at ease,--he felt the ground

slipping under his feet. The public had become weary of him and his

colleagues. The commercial system they had invented seemed to create

the evils it was made to counteract. The press began to complain. As

early as January 13 the “Times” showed signs of deserting the orders,

which it declared to be no “acts of retaliation,” but “measures of

counteraction,” complicated by transit duties doubtful either in

expediency or justice. “If America will withdraw her Embargo and

Non-importation Acts as far as they relate to England, provided we

rescind the Orders in Council, we cannot consider this as a disgraceful

concession on our part.” After the debate of March 6, the “Times”

renewed its complaints. Every day increased the difficulties of

ministers, until mere change became relief.

At length, April 26, the reality of the weakness of Perceval and

Canning became clear. On that day a new Order in Council[54] appeared,

which roused great interest because it seemed to abandon the whole

ground taken in the Orders of November, 1807, and to return within

the admitted principles of international law. The machinery of the

old orders was apparently discarded; the machinery of blockade was

restored in its place. The Order of April 26, 1809, declared that the

old orders were revoked and annulled except so far as their objects

were to be attained by a general blockade of all ports and places under

the government of France. The blockade thus declared was to extend

northward as far as Ems, and was to include on the south the ports of

northern Italy. Of course the new blockade was not even claimed to

be effective. No squadrons were to enforce its provisions by their

actual presence before the blockaded ports. In that respect the Order

of April 26, 1809, was as illegal as that of Nov. 11, 1807; but the

new arrangement opened to neutral commerce all ports not actually

ports of France, even though the British flag should be excluded from

them,--retaliating upon France only the injury which the French decrees

attempted to inflict on England.

Pinkney was greatly pleased, and wrote to Madison in excellent

spirits[55] that the change gave all the immediate benefits which

could have arisen from the arrangement proposed by him in the

previous August, except the right to demand from France the recall

of her edicts. “Our triumph is already considered as a signal one

by everybody. The pretexts with which ministers would conceal their

motives for a relinquishment of all which they prized in their system

are seen through, and it is universally viewed as a concession to

America. Our honor is now safe; and by management we may probably

gain everything we have in view.” Canning said to Pinkney: “If these

alterations did not do all that was expected, they at least narrowed

extremely the field of discussion, and gave great facilities and

encouragement to reviving cordiality.”[56] Government took pains to

impress the idea that it had done much, and wished to do more for

conciliation; yet the doubt remained whether Government was acting in

good faith. Pinkney overestimated its concessions. If the British navy

was to blockade Holland, France, and northern Italy only in order that

British commerce might be forced, through the blockade and license

system, into the place of neutral commerce, the new system was only the

old one in disguise. Under a blockade, in good faith, licenses seemed

to have no place. In that case, the Order in Council of April 26 might

lead to a real settlement; but how was it possible that Perceval,

George Rose, and James Stephen should have given up what they believed

to be the only hope for England’s safety?

If one frank and straightforward man could be found among the

ministerial ranks, James Stephen had a right to that distinction, and

to his language one might hope to look with confidence for the truth;

yet Stephen seemed for once not to understand himself. In publishing

his speech of March 6, he added an appendix on the new order, and

closed his remarks by a prayer that seemed meant to open the way for

the full admission of American offers:--

“It is not strange that a measure so indulgent [as the new

Order] should be generally approved by the American merchants

and agents resident in England. The most eminent of the

gentlemen of that description who opposed the Orders of November

have openly professed their satisfaction at this important

change. May the same sentiment prevail on notice of it beyond

the Atlantic! Or, what would be still better, may an amicable

arrangement there have already terminated all the differences

between us and our American brethren on terms that will involve

a complete revocation of our retaliatory orders, and impose on

America herself, by her own consent, the duty of vindicating

effectually the rights of neutrality against the aggressions of

France!”

History of the United States of America, Volume 5 (of 9) · 第 3 / 19 章