Having thus cleared away a little of the rubbish that might otherwise
have lain in my way, I return to the point of time at which the present
Federal Constitution and your administration began. It was very well
said by an anonymous writer in Philadelphia, about a year before that
period, that "_thirteen staves and ne'er a hoop will not make a barrel_"
and as any kind of hooping the barrel, however defectively executed,
would be better than none, it was scarcely possible but that
considerable advantages must arise from the federal hooping of the
States. It was with pleasure that every sincere friend of America
beheld, as the natural effect of union, her rising prosperity; and it
was with grief they saw that prosperity mixed, even in the blossom,
with the germ of corruption. Monopolies of every kind marked your
administration almost in the moment of its commencement. The lands
obtained by the revolution were lavished upon partisans; the interest
of the disbanded soldier was sold to the speculator; injustice was acted
under the pretence of faith; and the chief of the army became the patron
of the fraud.(2) From such a beginning what else could be expected, than
what has happened? A mean and servile submission to the insults of one
nation; treachery and ingratitude to another.
2 The history of the Scioto Company, by which so many
Frenchmen as well as Americans were ruined, warranted an
even stronger statement. Though Washington did not know what
was going on, he cannot be acquitted of a lack of due
precaution in patronizing leading agents of these
speculations, and introducing them in France.--_Editor._
Some vices make their approach with such a splendid appearance, that we
scarcely know to what class of moral distinctions they belong. They
are rather virtues corrupted than vices, originally. But meanness and
ingratitude have nothing equivocal in their character. There is not a
trait in them that renders them doubtful. They are so originally vice,
that they are generated in the dung of other vices, and crawl into
existence with the filth upon their back. The fugitives have found
protection in you, and the levee-room is their place of rendezvous.
As the Federal Constitution is a copy, though not quite so base as the
original, of the form of the British Government, an imitation of its
vices was naturally to be expected. So intimate is the connection
between _form and practice_, that to adopt the one is to invite the
other. Imitation is naturally progressive, and is rapidly so in matters
that are vicious.
Soon after the Federal Constitution arrived in England, I received a
letter from a female literary correspondent (a native of New York) very
well mixed with friendship, sentiment, and politics. In my answer
to that letter, I permitted myself to ramble into the wilderness of
imagination, and to anticipate what might hereafter be the condition
of America. I had no idea that the picture I then drew was realizing
so fast, and still less that Mr. Washington was hurrying it on. As the
extract I allude to is congenial with the subject I am upon, I here
transcribe it:
[_The extract is the same as that given in a footnote, in
the Memorial to Monroe, p. 180_.]
Impressed, as I was, with apprehensions of this kind, I had America
constantly in my mind in all the publications I afterwards made. The
First, and still more the Second, Part of the Rights of Man, bear
evident marks of this watchfulness; and the Dissertation on First
Principles of Government [XXIV.] goes more directly to the point than
either of the former. I now pass on to other subjects.
It will be supposed by those into whose hands this letter may fall, that
I have some personal resentment against you; I will therefore settle
this point before I proceed further.
If I have any resentment, you must acknowledge that I have not been
hasty in declaring it; neither would it now be declared (for what are
private resentments to the public) if the cause of it did not unite
itself as well with your public as with your private character, and with
the motives of your political conduct.
The part I acted in the American revolution is well known; I shall not
here repeat it. I know also that had it not been for the aid received
from France, in men, money and ships, that your cold and unmilitary
conduct (as I shall shew in the course of this letter) would in all
probability have lost America; at least she would not have been the
independent nation she now is. You slept away your time in the field,
till the finances of the country were completely exhausted, and you have
but little share in the glory of the final event. It is time, sir, to
speak the undisguised language of historical truth.
Elevated to the chair of the Presidency, you assumed the merit of every
thing to yourself, and the natural ingratitude of your constitution
began to appear. You commenced your Presidential career by encouraging
and swallowing the grossest adulation, and you travelled America from
one end to the other to put yourself in the way of receiving it. You
have as many addresses in your chest as James the II. As to what were
your views, for if you are not great enough to have ambition you are
little enough to have vanity, they cannot be directly inferred from
expressions of your own; but the partizans of your politics have
divulged the secret.
John Adams has said, (and John it is known was always a speller after
places and offices, and never thought his little services were highly
enough paid,)--John has said, that as Mr. Washington had no child, the
Presidency should be made hereditary in the family of Lund Washington.
John might then have counted upon some sinecure himself, and a provision
for his descendants. He did not go so far as to say, also, that the
Vice-Presidency should be hereditary in the family of John Adams. He
prudently left that to stand on the ground that one good turn deserves
another.(*)
John Adams is one of those men who never contemplated the origin of
government, or comprehended any thing of first principles. If he had,
he might have seen, that the right to set up and establish hereditary
government, never did, and never can, exist in any generation at any
time whatever; that it is of the nature of treason; because it is an
attempt to take away the rights of all the minors living at that time,
and of all succeeding generations. It is of a degree beyond common
treason. It is a sin against nature. The equal right of every generation
is a right fixed in the nature of things. It belongs to the son when of
age, as it belonged to the father before him. John Adams would himself
deny the right that any former deceased generation could have to
decree authoritatively a succession of governors over him, or over his
children; and yet he assumes the pretended right, treasonable as it is,
of acting it himself. His ignorance is his best excuse.
John Jay has said,(**) (and this John was always the sycophant of
every thing in power, from Mr. Girard in America, to Grenville in
England,)--John Jay has said, that the Senate should have been appointed
for life. He would then have been sure of never wanting a lucrative
appointment for himself, and have had no fears about impeachment. These
are the disguised traitors that call themselves Federalists.(**)
Could I have known to what degree of corruption and perfidy the
administrative part of the government of America had descended, I
could have been at no loss to have understood the reservedness of Mr.
Washington towards me, during my imprisonment in the Luxembourg. There
are cases in which silence is a loud language. I will here explain the
cause of that imprisonment, and return to Mr. Washington afterwards.
* Two persons to whom John Adams said this, told me of it.
The secretary of Mr. Jay was present when it was told to
me.--_Author_.
** If Mr. John Jay desires to know on what authority I say
this, I will give that authority publicly when he chooses to
call for it--_Author_.
In the course of that rage, terror and suspicion, which the brutal
letter of the Duke of Brunswick first started into existence in France,
it happened that almost every man who was opposed to violence, or who
was not violent himself, became suspected. I had constantly been opposed
to every thing which was of the nature or of the appearance of violence;
but as I had always done it in a manner that shewed it to be a principle
founded in my heart, and not a political manouvre, it precluded the
pretence of accusing me. I was reached, however, under another pretence.
A decree was passed to imprison all persons born in England; but as
I was a member of the Convention, and had been complimented with the
honorary style of Citizen of France, as Mr. Washington and some other
Americans had been, this decree fell short of reaching me. A motion was
afterwards made and carried, supported chiefly by Bourdon de l'Oise,
for expelling foreigners from the Convention. My expulsion being thus
effected, the two committees of Public Safety and of General Surety,
of which Robespierre was the dictator, put me in arrestation under the
former decree for imprisoning persons born in England. Having thus shewn
under what pretence the imprisonment was effected, I come to speak of
such parts of the case as apply between me and Mr. Washington, either as
a President or as an individual.
I have always considered that a foreigner, such as I was in fact, with
respect to France, might be a member of a Convention for framing a
Constitution, without affecting his right of citizenship in the
country to which he belongs, but not a member of a government after
a Constitution is formed; and I have uniformly acted upon this
distinction" To be a member of a government requires that a person be
in allegiance to that government and to the country locally. But a
Constitution, being a thing of principle, and not of action, and
which, after it is formed, is to be referred to the people for their
approbation or rejection, does not require allegiance in the persons
forming and proposing it; and besides this, it is only to the thing
after it be formed and established, and to the country after its
governmental character is fixed by the adoption of a constitution, that
the allegiance can be given. No oath of allegiance or of citizenship was
required of the members who composed the Convention: there was nothing
existing in form to swear allegiance to. If any such condition had been
required, I could not, as Citizen of America in fact, though Citizen of
France by compliment, have accepted a seat in the Convention.
As my citizenship in America was not altered or diminished by any thing
I had done in Europe, (on the contrary, it ought to be considered as
strengthened, for it was the American principle of government that I
was endeavouring to spread in Europe,) and as it is the duty of every
govern-ment to charge itself with the care of any of its citizens who
may happen to fall under an arbitrary persecution abroad, and is also
one of the reasons for which ambassadors or ministers are appointed,--it
was the duty of the Executive department in America, to have made (at
least) some enquiries about me, as soon as it heard of my imprisonment.
But if this had not been the case, that government owed it to me on
every ground and principle of honour and gratitude. Mr. Washington owed
it to me on every score of private acquaintance, I will not now say,
friendship; for it has some time been known by those who know him, that
he has no friendships; that he is incapable of forming any; he can serve
or desert a man, or a cause, with constitutional indifference; and it is
this cold hermaphrodite faculty that imposed itself upon the world,
and was credited for a while by enemies as by friends, for prudence,
moderation and impartiality.(1)
1 "L'on pent dire qu'il [Washington] jouit de tous les
avantages possibles a l'exception des douceurs de
l'amitie."--Louis Otto, Charge d'Affaires (at New York) to
his government, 13 June, 1790. French Archives, vol. 35, No.
32.--Editor.
Soon after I was put into arrestation, and imprisoned in the Luxembourg,
the Americans who were then in Paris went in a body to the bar of the
Convention to reclaim me. They were answered by the then President
Vadier, who has since absconded, that _I was born in England_, and it
was signified to them, by some of the Committee of _General Surety_, to
whom they were referred (I have been told it was Billaud Varennes,) that
their reclamation of me was only the act of individuals, without any
authority from the American government.
A few days after this, all communications from persons imprisoned to
any person without the prison was cut off by an order of the Police. I
neither saw, nor heard from, any body for six months; and the only hope
that remained to me was, that a new Minister would arrive from America
to supercede Morris, and that he would be authorized to enquire into
the cause of my imprisonment. But even this hope, in the state to which
matters were daily arriving, was too remote to have any consolatory
effect, and I contented myself with the thought, that I might be
remembered when it would be too late. There is perhaps no condition from
which a man conscious of his own uprightness cannot derive consolation;
for it is in itself a consolation for him to find, that he can bear that
condition with calmness and fortitude.
From about the middle of March (1794) to the fall of Robespierre
July 29, (9th of Thermidor,) the state of things in the prisons was a
continued scene of horror. No man could count upon life for twenty-four
hours. To such a pitch of rage and suspicion were Robespierre and his
Committee arrived, that it seemed as if they feared to leave a man
living. Scarcely a night passed in which ten, twenty, thirty, forty,
fifty, or more, were not taken out of the prison, carried before a
pretended tribunal in the morning, and guillotined before night. One
hundred and sixty-nine were taken out of the Luxembourg one night, in
the month of July, and one hundred and sixty of them guillotined. A
list of two hundred more, according to the report in the prison, was
preparing a few days before Robespierre fell. In this last list I have
good reason to believe I was included. A memorandum in the hand-writing
of Robespierre was afterwards produced in the Convention, by the
committee to whom the papers of Robespierre were referred, in these
words:
"Demander que Thomas "I Demand that Thomas Paine
"Payne soit decrete d'ac- be decreed of accusation
"cusation pour les inte- for the interests of America
"rotsde l'Amerique,autant as well as of France."
"que de la France."
1 In reading this the Committee added, "Why Thomas Payne
more than another? Because He helped to establish the
liberty of both worlds."--_Editor_.
I had then been imprisoned seven months, and the silence of the
Executive part of the government of America (Mr. Washington) upon the
case, and upon every thing respecting me, was explanation enough to
Robespierre that he might proceed to extremities.
A violent fever which had nearly terminated my existence, was, I
believe, the circumstance that preserved it. I was not in a condition to
be removed, or to know of what was passing, or of what had passed, for
more than a month. It makes a blank in my remembrance of life. The first
thing I was informed of was the fall of Robespierre.
About a week after this, Mr. Monroe arrived to supercede Gouverneur
Morris, and as soon as I was able to write a note legible enough to be
read, I found a way to convey one to him by means of the man who lighted
the lamps in the prison; and whose unabated friendship to me, from whom
he had never received any service, and with difficulty accepted any
recompense, puts the character of Mr. Washington to shame.
In a few days I received a message from Mr. Monroe, conveyed to me in a
note from an intermediate person, with assurance of his friendship, and
expressing a desire that I would rest the case in his hands. After a
fortnight or more had passed, and hearing nothing farther, I wrote to a
friend who was then in Paris, a citizen of Philadelphia, requesting him
to inform me what was the true situation of things with respect to me. I
was sure that something was the matter; I began to have hard thoughts of
Mr. Washington, but I was unwilling to encourage them.
In about ten days, I received an answer to my letter, in which the
writer says, "Mr. Monroe has told me that he has no order [meaning from
the President, Mr. Washington] respecting you, but that he (Mr. Monroe)
will do every thing in his power to liberate you; but, from what I learn
from the Americans lately arrived in Paris, you are not considered,
either by the American government, or by the individuals, as an American
citizen."
I was now at no loss to understand Mr. Washington and his new fangled
faction, and that their policy was silently to leave me to fall in
France. They were rushing as fast as they could venture, without
awakening the jealousy of America, into all the vices and corruptions of
the British government; and it was no more consistent with the policy
of Mr. Washington, and those who immediately surrounded him, than it was
with that of Robespierre or of Pitt, that I should survive. They have,
however, missed the mark, and the reaction is upon themselves.
Upon the receipt of the letter just alluded to, I sent a memorial to Mr.
Monroe, which the reader will find in the appendix, and I received from
him the following answer.(1) It is dated the 18th of September, but did
not come to hand till about the 4th of October. I was then failing into
a relapse, the weather was becoming damp and cold, fuel was not to be
had, and the abscess in my side, the consequence of these things, and
of the want of air and exercise, was beginning to form, and which has
continued immoveable ever since. Here follows Mr. Monroe's letter.
1 The appendix consisted of an abridgment of the Memorial,
which forms the preceding chapter (XXI.) in this volume.--
_Editor._.
Paris, September 18th, 1794. "Dear Sir,
"I was favoured soon after my arrival here with several letters from
you, and more latterly with one in the character of memorial upon the
subject of your confinement; and should have answered them at the
times they were respectively written had I not concluded you would have
calculated with certainty upon the deep interest I take in your welfare,
and the pleasure with which I shall embrace every opportunity in my
power to serve you. I should still pursue the same course, and for
reasons which must obviously occur, if I did not find that you are
disquieted with apprehensions upon interesting points, and which justice
to you and our country equally forbid you should entertain. You mention
that you have been informed you are not considered as an American
citizen by the Americans, and that you have likewise heard that I had
no instructions respecting you by the government. I doubt not the person
who gave you the information meant well, but I suspect he did not even
convey accurately his own ideas on the first point: for I presume the
most he could say is, that you had likewise become a French citizen,
and which by no means deprived you of being an American one. Even
this, however, may be doubted, I mean the acquisition of citizenship in
France, and I confess you have said much to show that it has not been
made. I really suspect that this was all that the gentleman who wrote
to you, and those Americans he heard speak upon the subject meant. It
becomes my duty, however, to declare to you, that I consider you as
an American citizen, and that you are considered universally in that
character by the people of America. As such you are entitled to my
attention; and so far as it can be given consistently with those
obligations which are mutual between every government and even a
transient passenger, you shall receive it.
"The Congress have never decided upon the subject of citizenship in
a manner to regard the present case. By being with us through the
revolution you are of our country as absolutely as if you had been born
there, and you are no more of England, than every native American is.
This is the true doctrine in the present case, so far as it becomes
complicated with any other consideration. I have mentioned it to make
you easy upon the only point which could give you any disquietude.
"Is it necessary for me to tell you how much all your countrymen, I
speak of the great mass of the people, are interested in your welfare?
They have not forgotten the history of their own revolution and the
difficult scenes through which they passed; nor do they review its
several stages without reviving in their bosoms a due sensibility of the
merits of those who served them in that great and arduous conflict. The
crime of ingratitude has not yet stained, and I trust never will stain,
our national character. You are considered by them as not only having
rendered important service in our own revolution, but as being, on a
more extensive scale, the friend of human rights, and a distinguished
and able advocate in favour of public liberty. To the welfare of Thomas
Paine, the Americans are not, nor can they be, indifferent.
"Of the sense which the President has always entertained of your merits,
and of his friendly disposition towards you, you are too well assured
to require any declaration of it from me. That I forward his wishes
in seeking your safety is what I well know, and this will form an
additional obligation on me to perform what I should otherwise consider
as a duty.
"You are, in my opinion, at present menaced by no kind of danger.
To liberate you, will be an object of my endeavours, and as soon as
possible. But you must, until that event shall be accomplished, bear
your situation with patience and fortitude. You will likewise have the
justice to recollect, that I am placed here upon a difficult theatre*
many important objects to attend to, with few to consult It becomes me
in pursuit of those to regulate my conduct in respect to each, as to
the manner and the time, as will, in my judgment, be best calculated to
accomplish the whole.
"With great esteem and respect consider me personally your friend,
"James Monroe."
The part in Mr. Monroe's letter, in which he speaks of the President,
(Mr. Washington,) is put in soft language. Mr. Monroe knew what Mr.
Washington had said formerly, and he was willing to keep that in view.
But the fact is, not only that Mr. Washington had given no orders to Mr.
Monroe, as the letter [of Whiteside] stated, but he did not so much as
say to him, enquire if Mr. Paine be dead or alive, in prison or out, or
see if there be any assistance we can give him.
This I presume alludes to the embarrassments which the
strange conduct of Gouverneur Morris had occasioned, and
which, I well know, had created suspicions of the sincerity
of Mr. Washington.--_Author_. voi. m--ij
While these matters were passing, the liberations from the prisons were
numerous; from twenty to forty in the course of almost every twenty-four
hours. The continuance of my imprisonment after a new Minister had
arrived immediately from America, which was now more than two months,
was a matter so obviously strange, that I found the character of the
American government spoken of in very unqualified terms of reproach;
not only by those who still remained in prison, but by those who were
liberated, and by persons who had access to the prison from without.
Under these circumstances I wrote again to Mr. Monroe, and found
occasion, among other things, to say: "It will not add to the popularity
of Mr. Washington to have it believed in America, as it is believed
here, that he connives at my imprisonment."
The case, so far as it respected Mr. Monroe, was, that having to get
over the difficulties, which the strange conduct of Gouverneur Morris
had thrown in the way of a successor, and having no authority from the
American government to speak officially upon any thing relating to me,
he found himself obliged to proceed by unofficial means with individual
members; for though Robespierre was overthrown, the Robespierrian
members of the Committee of Public Safety still remained in considerable
force, and had they found out that Mr. Monroe had no official authority
upon the case, they would have paid little or no regard to his
reclamation of me. In the mean time my health was suffering exceedingly,
the dreary prospect of winter was coming on, and imprisonment was still
a thing of danger. After the Robespierrian members of the Committee were
removed by the expiration of their time of serving, Mr. Monroe reclaimed
me, and I was liberated the 4th of November. Mr. Monroe arrived in Paris
the beginning of August before. All that period of my imprisonment,
at least, I owe not to Robespierre, but to his colleague in projects,
George Washington. Immediately upon my liberation, Mr. Monroe invited me
to his house, where I remained more than a year and a half; and I speak
of his aid and friendship, as an open-hearted man will always do in such
a case, with respect and gratitude.
Soon after my liberation, the Convention passed an unanimous vote,
to invite me to return to my seat among them. The times were still
unsettled and dangerous, as well from without as within, for the
coalition was unbroken, and the constitution not settled. I chose,
however, to accept the invitation: for as I undertake nothing but what
I believe to be right, I abandon nothing that I undertake; and I
was willing also to shew, that, as I was not of a cast of mind to be
deterred by prospects or retrospects of danger, so neither were my
principles to be weakened by misfortune or perverted by disgust.
Being now once more abroad in the world, I began to find that I was
not the only one who had conceived an unfavourable opinion of Mr.
Washington; it was evident that his character was on the decline as well
among Americans as among foreigners of different nations. From being the
chief of the government, he had made himself the chief of a party;
and his integrity was questioned, for his politics had a doubtful
appearance. The mission of Mr. Jay to London, notwithstanding there
was an American Minister there already, had then taken place, and was
beginning to be talked of. It appeared to others, as it did to me, to
be enveloped in mystery, which every day served either to increase or to
explain into matter of suspicion.
In the year 1790, or about that time, Mr. Washington, as President,
had sent Gouverneur Morris to London, as his secret agent to have some
communication with the British Ministry. To cover the agency of Morris
it was given out, I know not by whom, that he went as an agent from
Robert Morris to borrow money in Europe, and the report was permitted
to pass uncontradicted. The event of Morris's negociation was, that Mr.
Hammond was sent Minister from England to America, Pinckney from
America to England, and himself Minister to France. If, while Morris was
Minister in France, he was not a emissary of the British Ministry and
the coalesced powers, he gave strong reasons to suspect him of it. No
one who saw his conduct, and heard his conversation, could doubt his
being in their interest; and had he not got off the time he did, after
his recall, he would have been in arrestation. Some letters of his had
fallen into the hands of the Committee of Public Safety, and enquiry was
making after him.
A great bustle had been made by Mr. Washington about the conduct of
Genet in America, while that of his own Minister, Morris, in France, was
infinitely more reproachable. If Genet was imprudent or rash, he was not
treacherous; but Morris was all three. He was the enemy of the French
revolution, in every stage of it. But notwithstanding this conduct
on the part of Morris, and the known profligacy of his character, Mr.
Washington in a letter he wrote to him at the time of recalling him on
the complaint and request of the Committee of Public Safety, assures
him, that though he had complied with that request, he still retained
the same esteem and friendship for him as before. This letter Morris was
foolish enough to tell of; and, as his own char-acter and conduct were
notorious, the telling of it could have but one effect, which was that
of implicating the character of the writer.(1) Morris still loiters
in Europe, chiefly in England; and Mr. Washington is still in
correspondence with him. Mr. Washington ought, therefore, to expect,
especially since his conduct in the affairs of Jay's treaty, that France
must consider Morris and Washington as men of the same description. The
chief difference, however, between the two is, (for in politics there
is none,) that the one is profligate enough to profess an indifference
about _moral_ principles, and the other is prudent enough to conceal the
want of them.
1 Washington wrote to Morris, June 19,1794, "my confidence
in and friendship for you remain undiminished." It was not
"foolish" but sagacious to show this one sentence, without
which Morris might not have escaped out of France. The
letter reveals Washington's mental decline. He says "until
then [Fauchet's demand for recall of Morris, early 1794] I
had supposed you stood well with the powers that were."
Lafayette had pleaded for Morris's removal, and two French
Ministers before Fauchet, Ternant and Genet, had expressed
their Government's dissatisfaction with him. See Ford's
Writings of Washington, vii., p. 453; also Editor's
Introduction to XXI.--_Editor._
About three months after I was at liberty, the official note of Jay
to Grenville on the subject of the capture of American vessels by the
British cruisers, appeared in the American papers that arrived at Paris.
Every thing was of a-piece. Every thing was mean. The same kind of
character went to all circumstances public or private. Disgusted at
this national degradation, as well as at the particular conduct of Mr.
Washington to me, I wrote to him (Mr. Washington) on the 22d of February
(1795) under cover to the then Secretary of State, (Mr. Randolph,) and
entrusted the letter to Mr. Le-tombe, who was appointed French consul
to Philadelphia, and was on the point of taking his departure. When I
supposed Mr. Letombe had sailed, I mentioned the letter to Mr. Monroe,
and as I was then in his house, I shewed it to him. He expressed a
wish that I would recall it, which he supposed might be done, as he had
learnt that Mr. Letombe had not then sailed. I agreed to do so, and it
was returned by Mr. Letombe under cover to Mr. Monroe.
The letter, however, will now reach Mr. Washington publicly in the
course of this work.
About the month of September following, I had a severe relapse which
gave occasion to the report of my death. I had felt it coming on a
considerable time before, which occasioned me to hasten the work I
had then in hand, the _Second part of the Age of Reason_. When I had
finished that work, I bestowed another letter on Mr. Washington, which I
sent under cover to Mr. Benj. Franklin Bache of Philadelphia. The letter
is as follows:
"Paris, September 20th, 1795.
"Sir,
"I had written you a letter by Mr. Letombe, French consul, but, at the
request of Mr. Monroe, I withdrew it, and the letter is still by me.
I was the more easily prevailed upon to do this, as it was then my
intention to have returned to America the latter end of the present
year, 1795; but the illness I now suffer prevents me. In case I had
come, I should have applied to you for such parts of your official
letters (and of your private ones, if you had chosen to give them) as
contained any instructions or directions either to Mr. Monroe, or to
Mr. Morris, or to any other person respecting me; for after you were
informed of my imprisonment in France, it was incumbent on you to have
made some enquiry into the cause, as you might very well conclude that I
had not the opportunity of informing you of it. I cannot understand your
silence upon this subject upon any other ground, than as _connivance_ at
my imprisonment; and this is the manner it is understood here, and will
be understood in America, unless you give me authority for contradicting
it. I therefore write you this letter, to propose to you to send me
copies of any letters you have written, that may remove that suspicion.
In the preface to the second part of the Age of Reason, I have given a
memorandum from the hand-writing of Robespierre, in which he proposed a
decree of accusation against me, '_for the interests of America as well
as of France!_' He could have no cause for putting America in the
case, but by interpreting the silence of the American government into
connivance and consent. I was imprisoned on the ground of being born
in England; and your silence in not enquiring into the cause of that
imprisonment, and reclaiming me against it, was tacitly giving me up. I
ought not to have suspected you of treachery; but whether I recover
from the illness I now suffer or not, I shall continue to think you
treacherous, till you give me cause to think otherwise. I am sure you
would have found yourself more at your ease, had you acted by me as
you ought; for whether your desertion of me was intended to gratify the
English Government, or to let me fall into destruction in France that
you might exclaim the louder against the French Revolution, or whether
you hoped by my extinction to meet with less opposition in mounting up
the American government--either of these will involve you in reproach
you will not easily shake off.
"THOMAS Paine."
1 Washington Papers in State Department. Endorsed by Bache:
"Jan. 18, 1796. Enclosed to Benj. Franklin Bache, and by him
forwarded immediately upon receipt."--_Editor._.
Here follows the letter above alluded to, which I had stopped in
complaisance to Mr. Monroe.
"Paris, February aad, 1795.
"Sir,
"As it is always painful to reproach those one would wish to respect, it
is not without some difficulty that I have taken the resolution to
write to you. The dangers to which I have been exposed cannot have been
unknown to you, and the guarded silence you have observed upon that
circumstance is what I ought not to have expected from you, either as a
friend or as President of the United States.
"You knew enough of my character to be assured that I could not have
deserved imprisonment in France; and, without knowing any thing more
than this, you had sufficient ground to have taken some interest for my
safety. Every motive arising from recollection of times past, ought to
have suggested to you the propriety of such a measure. But I cannot find
that you have so much as directed any enquiry to be made whether I
was in prison or at liberty, dead or alive; what the cause of that
imprisonment was, or whether there was any service or assistance you
could render. Is this what I ought to have expected from America, after
the part I had acted towards her, or will it redound to her honour or
to yours, that I tell the story? I do not hesitate to say, that you have
not served America with more disinterestedness, or greater zeal, or more
fidelity, than myself, and I know not if with better effect. After the
revolution of America was established I ventured into new scenes
of difficulties to extend the principles which that revolution had
produced, and you rested at home to partake of the advantages. In the
progress of events, you beheld yourself a President in America, and me a
prisoner in France. You folded your arms, forgot your friend, and became
silent.
"As every thing I have been doing in Europe was connected with my wishes
for the prosperity of America, I ought to be the more surprised at this
conduct on the part of her government. It leaves me but one mode of
explanation, which is, _that every thing is not as it ought to be
amongst you_, and that the presence of a man who might disapprove, and
who had credit enough with the country to be heard and believed, was not
wished for. This was the operating motive with the despotic faction
that imprisoned me in France, (though the pretence was, that I was a
foreigner,) and those that have been silent and inactive towards me
in America, appear to me to have acted from the same motive. It is
impossible for me to discover any other.(1)
"After the part I have taken in the revolution of America, it is
natural that I feel interested in whatever relates to her character
and prosperity. Though I am not on the spot to see what is immediately
acting there, I see some part of what she is acting in Europe. For
your own sake, as well as for that of America, I was both surprised
and concerned at the appointment of Gouverneur Morris to be Minister
to France. His conduct has proved that the opinion I had formed of that
appointment was well founded. I wrote that opinion to Mr. Jefferson at
the time, and I was frank enough to say the same thing to Morris--_that
it was an unfortunate appointment?_ His prating, insignificant
pomposity, rendered him at once offensive, suspected, and ridiculous;
and his total neglect of all business had so disgusted the Americans,
that they proposed drawing up a protest against him. He carried this
neglect to such an extreme, that it was necessary to inform him of it;
and I asked him one day, if he did not feel himself ashamed to take the
money of the country, and do nothing for it?' But Morris is so fond of
profit and voluptousness, that he cares nothing about character. Had
he not been removed at the time he was, I think his conduct would have
precipitated the two countries into a rupture; and in this case,
hated _systematically_ as America is and ever will be by the British
government, and at the same time suspected by France, the commerce of
America would have fallen a prey to both countries.
1 This paragraph of the original letter was omitted from the
American pamphlet, probably by the prudence of Mr. Bache.--
_Editor._
2 "I have just heard of Gouverneur Morris's appointment. It
is a most unfortunate one; and, as I shall mention the same
thing to him when I see him, I do not express it to you with
the injunction of confidence."--Paine to Jefferson, Feb.
13,1792.--_Editor._
3 Paine could not of course know that Morris was willing
that the Americans, to whom he alludes, captains of captured
vessels, should suffer, in order that there might be a case
against France of violation of treaty, which would leave the
United States free to transfer the alliance to England. See
Introduction to XXI.. also my "Life of Paine," ii., p.
83.--_Editor._.
"If the inconsistent conduct of Morris exposed the interest of America
to some hazard in France, the pusillanimous conduct of Mr. Jay in
England has rendered the American government contemptible in Europe.
Is it possible that any man who has contributed to the independence of
Amer-ica, and to free her from the tyranny and injustice of the British
government, can read without shame and indignation the note of Jay to
Grenville? It is a satire upon the declaration of Independence, and an
encouragement to the British government to treat America with contempt.
At the time this Minister of Petitions was acting this miserable part,
he had every means in his hands to enable him to have done his business
as he ought. The success or failure of his mission depended upon the
success or failure of the French arms. Had France failed, Mr. Jay might
have put his humble petition in his pocket, and gone home. The case
happened to be otherwise, and he has sacrificed the honour and perhaps
all the advantages of it, by turning petitioner. I take it for granted,
that he was sent over to demand indemnification for the captured
property; and, in this case, if he thought he wanted a preamble to his
demand, he might have said,
'That, tho' the government of England might suppose itself under
the necessity of seizing American property bound to France, yet
that supposed necessity could not preclude indemnification to the
proprietors, who, acting under the authority of their own government,
were not accountable to any other.'
"But Mr. Jay sets out with an implied recognition of the right of the
British government to seize and condemn: for he enters his complaint
against the _irregularity_ of the seizures and the condemnation, as if
they were reprehensible only by not being _conformable_ to the _terms_
of the proclamation under which they were seized. Instead of being the
Envoy of a government, he goes over like a lawyer to demand a new trial.
I can hardly help thinking that Grenville wrote that note himself and
Jay signed it; for the style of it is domestic and not diplomatic.
The term, _His_ Majesty, used without any descriptive epithet, always
signifies the King whom the Minister that speaks represents. If this
sinking of the demand into a petition was a juggle between Grenville
and Jay, to cover the indemnification, I think it will end in another
juggle, that of never paying the money, and be made use of afterwards to
preclude the right of demanding it: for Mr. Jay has virtually disowned
the right _by appealing to the magnanimity of his Majesty against the
capturers_. He has made this magnanimous Majesty the umpire in the case,
and the government of the United States must abide by the decision. If,
Sir, I turn some part of this business into ridicule, it is to avoid the
unpleasant sensation of serious indignation.
"Among other things which I confess I do not understand, is the
proclamation of neutrality. This has always appeared to me as
an assumption on the part of the executive not warranted by the
Constitution. But passing this over, as a disputable case, and
considering it only as political, the consequence has been that of
sustaining the losses of war, without the balance of reprisals. When
the profession of neutrality, on the part of America, was answered by
hostilities on the part of Britain, the object and intention of that
neutrality existed no longer; and to maintain it after this, was not
only to encourage farther insults and depredations, but was an informal
breach of neutrality towards France, by passively contributing to the
aid of her enemy. That the government of England considered the American
government as pusillanimous, is evident from the encreasing insolence of
the conduct of the former towards the latter, till the affair of General
Wayne. She then saw that it might be possible to kick a government into
some degree of spirit.(1) So far as the proclamation of neutrality was
intended to prevent a dissolute spirit of privateering in America under
foreign colors, it was undoubtedly laudable; but to continue it as a
government neutrality, after the commerce of America was made war upon,
was submission and not neutrality. I have heard so much about this thing
called neutrality, that I know not if the ungenerous and dishonorable
silence (for I must call it such,) that has been observed by your part
of the government towards me, during my imprisonment, has not in some
measure arisen from that policy.
1 Wayne's success against the Indians of the Six Nations,
1794, was regarded by Washington also as a check on England.
Writing to Pendleton, Jan. 22, 1795, he says: "There is
reason to believe that the Indians...._together with their
abettors_; begin to see things in a different point of
view." (Italics mine).--_Editor._
"Tho' I have written you this letter, you ought not to suppose it has
been an agreeable undertaking to me. On the contrary, I assure you, it
has caused me some disquietude. I am sorry you have given me cause to
do it; for, as I have always remembered your former friendship with
pleasure, I suffer a loss by your depriving me of that sentiment.
"Thomas Paine."
That this letter was not written in very good temper, is very evident;
but it was just such a letter as his conduct appeared to me to merit,
and every thing on his part since has served to confirm that
opinion. Had I wanted a commentary on his silence, with respect to my
imprisonment in France, some of his faction have furnished me with it.
What I here allude to, is a publication in a Philadelphia paper, copied
afterwards into a New York paper, both under the patronage of the
Washington faction, in which the writer, still supposing me in prison
in France, wonders at my lengthy respite from the scaffold; and he marks
his politics still farther, by saying:
"It appears, moreover, that the people of England did not relish his
(Thomas Paine's) opinions quite so well as he expected, and that for one
of his last pieces, as destructive to the peace and happiness of their
country, (meaning, I suppose, the _Rights of Man_,) they threatened
our knight-errant with such serious vengeance, that, to avoid a trip to
Botany Bay, he fled over to France, as a less dangerous voyage."
I am not refuting or contradicting the falsehood of this publication,
for it is sufficiently notorious; neither am I censuring the writer: on
the contrary, I thank him for the explanation he has incautiously given
of the principles of the Washington faction. Insignificant, however, as
the piece is, it was capable of having some ill effects, had it arrived
in France during my imprisonment, and in the time of Robespierre; and I
am not uncharitable in supposing that this was one of the intentions of
the writer.(*)
* I know not who the writer of the piece is, but some of the
Americans say it is Phineas Bond, an American refugee, but
now a British consul; and that he writes under the
signature of Peter Skunk or Peter Porcupine, or some such
signature.--Author.
This footnote probably added to the gall of Porcupine's
(Cobbett's) "Letter to the Infamous Tom Paine, in Answer to
his Letter to General Washington" (Polit. Censor, Dec.,
1796), of which he (Cobbett) afterwards repented. Phineas
Bond had nothing to do with it.--Editor.
I have now done with Mr. Washington on the score of private affairs. It
would have been far more agreeable to me, had his conduct been such as
not to have merited these reproaches. Errors or caprices of the temper
can be pardoned and forgotten; but a cold deliberate crime of the heart,
such as Mr. Washington is capable of acting, is not to be washed away. I
now proceed to other matter.
After Jay's note to Grenville arrived in Paris from America, the
character of every thing that was to follow might be easily foreseen;
and it was upon this anticipation that _my_ letter of February the 22d
was founded. The event has proved that I was not mistaken, except that
it has been much worse than I expected.
It would naturally occur to Mr. Washington, that the secrecy of Jay's
mission to England, where there was already an American Minister, could
not but create some suspicion in the French government; especially
as the conduct of Morris had been notorious, and the intimacy of Mr.
Washington with Morris was known.
The character which Mr. Washington has attempted to act in the world, is
a sort of non-describable, camelion-colored thing, called _prudence_. It
is, in many cases, a substitute for principle, and is so nearly allied
to hypocrisy that it easily slides into it. His genius for prudence
furnished him in this instance with an expedient that served, as is
the natural and general character of all expedients, to diminish the
embarrassments of the moment and multiply them afterwards; for
he authorized it to be made known to the French government, as a
confidential matter, (Mr. Washington should recollect that I was a
member of the Convention, and had the means of knowing what I here
state) he authorized it, I say, to be announced, and that for the
purpose of preventing any uneasiness to France on the score of Mr. Jay's
mission to England, that the object of that mission, and of Mr. Jay's
authority, was restricted to that of demanding the surrender of the
western posts, and indemnification for the cargoes captured in American
vessels. Mr. Washington knows that this was untrue; and knowing this,
he had good reason to himself for refusing to furnish the House of
Representatives with copies of the instructions given to Jay, as he
might suspect, among other things, that he should also be called upon
for copies of instructions given to other Ministers, and that, in
the contradiction of instructions, his want of integrity would be
detected.(1) Mr. Washington may now, perhaps, learn, when it is too late
to be of any use to him, that a man will pass better through the world
with a thousand open errors upon his back, than in being detected in
_one_ sly falsehood. When one is detected, a thousand are suspected.
The first account that arrived in Paris of a treaty being negotiated by
Mr. Jay, (for nobody suspected any,) came in an English newspaper, which
announced that a treaty _offensive and defensive_ had been concluded
between the United States of America and England. This was immediately
denied by every American in Paris, as an impossible thing; and though
it was disbelieved by the French, it imprinted a suspicion that some
underhand business was going forward.(*) At length the treaty itself
arrived, and every well-affected American blushed with shame.
1 When the British treaty had been ratified by the Senate
(with one stipulation) and signed by the President, the
House of Representatives, required to supply the means for
carrying into effect, believed that its power over the
supplies authorized it to check what a large majority
considered an outrage on the country and on France. This was
the opinion of Edmund Randolph (the first Attorney General),
of Jefferson, Madison, and other eminent men. The House
having respectfully requested the President to send them
such papers on the treaty as would not affect any existing
negotiations, he refused in a message (March 30, 1796),
whose tenor Madison described as "improper and indelicate."
He said "the assent of the House of Representatives is not
necessary to the validity of a treaty." The House regarded
the message as menacing a serious conflict, and receded.--
_Editor._
* It was the embarrassment into which the affairs and credit
of America were thrown at this instant by the report above
alluded to, that made it necessary to contradict it, and
that by every means arising from opinion or founded upon
authority. The Committee of Public Safety, existing at that
time, had agreed to the full execution, on their part, of
the treaty between America and France, notwithstanding some
equivocal conduct on the part of the American government,
not very consistent with the good faith of an ally; but they
were not in a disposition to be imposed upon by a counter-
treaty. That Jay had no instructions beyond the points above
stated, or none that could possibly be construed to extend
to the length the British treaty goes, was a matter believed
in America, in England, and in France; and without going to
any other source it followed naturally from the message of
the President to Congress, when he nominated Jay upon that
mission. The secretary of Mr. Jay came to Paris soon after
the treaty with England had been concluded, and brought with
him a copy of Mr. Jay's instructions, which he offered to
shew to me as _justification of Jay_. I advised him, as a
friend, not to shew them to anybody, and did not permit him
to shew them to me. "Who is it," said I to him, "that you
intend to implicate as censureable by shewing those
instructions? Perhaps that implication may fall upon your
own government." Though I did not see the instructions, I
could not be at a loss to understand that the American
administration had been playing a double game.--Author.
That there was a "double game" in this business, from first
to last, is now a fact of history. Jay was confirmed by the
Senate on a declaration of the President in which no
faintest hint of a treaty was given, but only the
"adjustment of our complaints," "vindication of our rights,"
and cultivation of "peace." Only after the Envoy's
confirmation did the Cabinet add the main thing, his
authority to negotiate a commercial treaty. This was done
against the protest of the only lawyer among them, Edmund
Randolph, Secretary of State, who said the exercise of such
a power by Jay would be an abridgment of the rights of the
Senate and of the nation. See my "Life of Randolph," p. 220.
For Jay's Instructions, etc., see I. Am. State Papers,
Foreign Relations.--Editor.
It is curious to observe, how the appearance of characters will change,
whilst the root that produces them remains the same. The Washington
faction having waded through the slough of negociation, and whilst it
amused France with professions of friendship contrived to injure her,
immediately throws off the hypocrite, and assumes the swaggering air of
a bravado. The party papers of that imbecile administration were on
this occasion filled with paragraphs about _Sovereignty_. A paltroon may
boast of his sovereign right to let another kick him, and this is the
only kind of sovereignty shewn in the treaty with England. But those
daring paragraphs, as Timothy Pickering(1) well knows, were intended
for France; without whose assistance, in men, money, and ships, Mr.
Washington would have cut but a poor figure in the American war. But of
his military talents I shall speak hereafter.
I mean not to enter into any discussion of any article of Jay's treaty;
I shall speak only upon the whole of it. It is attempted to be justified
on the ground of its not being a violation of any article or articles
of the treaty pre-existing with France. But the sovereign right of
explanation does not lie with George Washington and his man Timothy;
France, on her part, has, at least, an equal right: and when nations
dispute, it is not so much about words as about things.
A man, such as the world calls a sharper, and versed as Jay must be
supposed to be in the quibbles of the law, may find a way to enter into
engagements, and make bargains, in such a manner as to cheat some other
party, without that party being able, as the phrase is, _to take the law
of him_. This often happens in the cabalistical circle of what is called
law. But when this is attempted to be acted on the national scale of
treaties, it is too despicable to be defended, or to be permitted to
exist. Yet this is the trick upon which Jay's treaty is founded, so
far as it has relation to the treaty pre-existing with France. It is a
counter-treaty to that treaty, and perverts all the great articles of
that treaty to the injury of France, and makes them operate as a bounty
to England, with whom France is at war.