HARDLY was the Louisiana treaty sent to America in May, 1803,
when Monroe began preparations for a journey to Madrid. The outbreak
of temper with which Godoy and Cevallos received the news that Spain
had been secretly deprived of Louisiana, caused Bonaparte to feel that
further maltreatment of his ally was for the moment unwise; and he
interposed a sudden veto on Monroe’s journey. “With respect to Florida,
this is not the time to pursue that object,” said he, when Monroe came
to take leave.[204] The Consul Cambacérès echoed the warning: “You must
not go to Spain at present; it is not the time; you had better defer
it.” The Third Consul Lebrun spoke in the same tone. Monroe took the
advice, and abandoned the journey to Madrid. In July he crossed the
Channel to London, and Aug. 17, 1803, was duly presented to George III.
as the successor of Rufus King, who had already returned to America.
Livingston remained at Paris to manage the relations with Napoleon.
In spite of success that should have filled his cup of ambition
to overflowing, Livingston was far from satisfied. Neither the
President nor the Secretary of State liked him; and to the latter he
was a possible rival, who might become dangerous if the authority
of President Jefferson, which was Madison’s great support, should
wane, and should New York claim the presidency from Virginia. Monroe
distrusted Livingston, believing him to grasp at the whole credit of
the Louisiana treaty, and to be intriguing to withdraw the Florida
negotiation from Monroe’s hands by causing its transfer from Madrid
to Paris.[205] The Secretary of State was perpetually annoyed by
his minister. Sometimes Livingston experimented on Spain, sometimes
on England. At one moment he sent to the First Consul an indiscreet
memorial that brought a remonstrance from the British government;
at another he fell into a virulent quarrel with the American claims
commissioners under the Louisiana treaty. His claims convention was
admitted to be full of mistakes which he did not himself attempt to
defend, while the American consul at Paris declared that his conduct in
regard to certain claims was dictated by blind and insatiable vanity,
if not by corrupt and criminal motives.[206]
Mistakes cost Livingston little serious annoyance; but although he
could afford to disregard British complaints or Consul Skipwith’s
abuse, or even the severe criticisms of the claims commissioners,
he must have had more than human patience to sit quiet under the
superiority of Monroe. He knew that whatever diplomatic credit was due
for the Louisiana negotiation rightly belonged to him, and that Monroe
had no claim to any part of it, except that of supporting and approving
what was already accomplished; yet he saw the Administration and the
public attribute the chief honor to his rival. He showed his wounded
self-esteem in protests and statements to which the world was deaf. His
old Federalist friends took malicious pleasure in telling him that his
triumph had offended the vanity of Jefferson.[207]
Consoling himself with the reflection that he should insist on
returning to America in the autumn of 1804, Livingston endured these
annoyances as he best could, and found in the society of Robert Fulton
and Joel Barlow the hope of greater fame and profit than political
distinctions could possibly bring. While he watched and encouraged
Fulton’s experiments with the steamboat, clouds gathered more and more
thickly round his diplomatic path. The First Consul had never inspired
him with much confidence; but after the rupture of the Peace of Amiens,
in May, 1803, Bonaparte’s acts became more and more alarming to every
Republican. He passed the autumn of 1803 in preparations for a descent
on England. He next effected, in February, 1804, the arrest, trial, and
banishment of Moreau. The seizure and arbitrary execution of the Duc
d’Enghien followed a month afterward, and finally, in May, 1804, the
proclamation of the Empire.
In the midst of these events Livingston received from home the letter
already quoted, in which Madison told the story of the Mobile Act,
and complained of Yrujo’s violent conduct. “The correspondence is
chiefly of importance,” said the Secretary of State, “as it urges the
expediency of cultivating the disposition of the French government
to take our side of the question.” Livingston was personally rather
inclined to the opposite course. He had little faith in obtaining
favors from the Emperor, and no disposition to place the United States
in the attitude of begging for them; but he had not the chief share in
shaping action. A few weeks after receiving these instructions, when
he heard of the _quasi_ war which Pinckney in July declared at
Madrid, Livingston was already expecting the arrival of his successor,
General Armstrong, in the autumn.
The news from Spain reaching London, startled Monroe from his repose.
As soon as he could make ready, Oct. 8, 1804, placing his legation
in charge of a secretary, Monroe left London. While he waited in
Paris to sound the disposition of Talleyrand, General Armstrong
arrived to relieve Livingston. Thus it happened that three American
ministers--Monroe, Livingston, and Armstrong--met at Paris in
November, 1804, to cope with Talleyrand, in whose hands lay the
decision of Jefferson’s quarrel with Spain.
The question to be decided was whether the United States government
should disregard its obligations to Napoleon and act independently, or
whether the President should defer to the opinion of Talleyrand and
to the Emperor’s will. The story of diplomatic adventure, which has
so often an interest beyond what could be supposed possible from the
contact of three or four quiet and elderly gentlemen meeting about a
green table, or writing letters inordinately long, owes that interest
in most cases to a hope or a despair, to a mystery or an elucidation;
but Monroe’s labors at that time offered little mystery, and less hope.
Although he did not know all that was happening behind the diplomatic
curtain, he knew enough to be aware that his negotiation for Florida,
on the ground chosen by the President, was hopeless.
Three months had passed since Cevallos made his appeal to Talleyrand
for help. “If the Emperor would but say a word,” Cevallos urged;[208]
“if he would make the United States understand that he will not be
pleased at seeing them abuse their advantages,”--this would put an end
to insults like the Mobile Act and Pinckney’s threats. Talleyrand’s
answer could not be doubtful. Angry with Jefferson, Madison, Monroe,
and Livingston for their attack on West Florida, into which his own
and his master’s finessing had drawn them; still angrier with Pinckney
for the burlesque of Napoleonic manners with which he alarmed the
government of Spain; hostile at heart to Bonaparte’s ultimate schemes
against the Spanish empire, but determined that if Spain were to be
plundered France should have the booty; willing to repay a part of
the humiliation and disappointment which the United States had twice
inflicted upon him,--the instant the Spanish ambassador at Paris
brought the Mobile Act to his notice, Talleyrand assured him with
emphasis that the Emperor would formally oppose such pretensions on
the part of the United States;[209] and when Pinckney’s conduct was
reported to him, with the request that the Emperor would instruct
his minister at Washington to act in concert with Yrujo in order to
prevent a rupture, Talleyrand hastened to meet the wish of the Spanish
government.
Cevallos made other requests. After narrating the history of Pinckney’s
claims convention, he touched briefly on the claim for French
spoliations which the Americans so warmly urged against Spain, and he
asserted that Lucien Bonaparte had given an assurance that these claims
were covered by the Franco-American treaty of 1800, and therefore could
not be pressed against Spain. He complained that Pinckney had used
“language the most gross, the most insulting, and, so to speak, the
most audacious and menacing.” He called attention to the dangers which
would result from allowing the boundary of Louisiana to be extended
toward either Florida or Mexico; and he begged “that orders might be
sent to the French commissioner Laussat in Louisiana, enjoining him
to restrain the pretensions of the Americans regarding the limits of
that province, and not to show himself favorable to the wishes of the
Americans, as there is reason to suspect him of doing, according to his
correspondence with the Spanish commissioner.”
Laussat’s offence consisted in telling the American commissioners
that his instructions fixed the Rio Bravo as the western boundary of
Louisiana. Cevallos made no protest to Talleyrand against the truth
of Laussat’s statement. He tacitly admitted that Laussat was right;
but he invited Talleyrand to join in depriving the United States of
Texas, which the United States had bought, and the price of which they
had paid to France. That Godoy should conspire for this purpose was
natural, for he had no reason to respect the Louisiana cession, and
he had pledged his honor in no way to the United States; but that he
should ask Napoleon to deprive the United States of property which
Napoleon himself had bought from Spain and sold to the United States,
and for which he had received some millions of coin for his personal
objects and ambitions, showed that the Prince of Peace understood the
characters of Bonaparte and Talleyrand.
Talleyrand, who held that Bonaparte had made a mistake in selling
Louisiana to the United States, and who looked upon himself as having
no responsibility for the transaction, was glad to restrict what he
thought the evil that had been done. Taking the complaints of Spain to
the Emperor, he received permission to do what Spain requested; and
during the month of August he sent from the Foreign Office a series of
documents that disposed for the time of any hopes still nourished by
Jefferson’s diplomacy.
These three papers were too important to be forgotten. French
diplomatic writings were models of concise, impassive clearness,
contrasting with the diffuse and argumentative, if not disputatious,
style which sometimes characterized American and Spanish official
correspondence. These three short letters offered examples of French
methods. The first was addressed to General Turreau at Washington, and
concerned the boundaries of Louisiana toward the west:[210]--
“If the Mississippi and the Iberville trace with precision the
eastern boundary of that colony, it has less precise limits to
the westward. No river, no chain of mountains, separates it
from the Spanish possessions; and between the last settlements
of Louisiana and the first of those in the Spanish colonies are
frequently to be found intervals so great as to make a line of
demarcation difficult to agree upon. So Spain already appears to
fear that the United States, who show an intention of forcing
back the western limits of Louisiana, may propose to advance in
this direction to the ocean, and establish themselves on that
part of the American coast which lies north of California.”
Turreau was directed to divert the United States government from the
idea of extension toward the west and northwest in any manner that
might annoy Spain. He was to employ means of persuasion and friendly
influence for this purpose, rather than to act officially; all official
action being reserved for objects directly interesting France.
The second document[211] was also addressed to Turreau, but was more
decided in tone, as though the Emperor himself had dictated its
language. After a brief allusion to Pinckney’s claims convention and
the American theory that Spain was responsible for French spoliations
which she had not prevented, Talleyrand continued:--
“That convention, made under date of Aug. 11, 1802, is posterior
by--months to that which France concluded with the United
States, the 8th Vendemiaire, An ix. (30 Sept. 1800), and which
declared that no indemnity should be given for prizes made
by either of the two Powers. This Article ought to leave the
Americans no hope that prizes made against them on Spanish
shores would be excepted and paid for; it would be useless for
them to suppose that it is Spain from whom they seek these
indemnities: Spain, who would have only the advances to pay,
would afterward recur to France for reimbursement. It is,
then, upon France that this charge would ultimately fall; and
as we are relieved by the convention of Sept. 30, 1800, from
every kind of debt relating to prizes, we can only with some
surprise see the United States seeking to obtain from another
government a part of the indemnities which they had decidedly
renounced in their convention with France. Spain had doubtless
lost sight of these considerations, and had not in view this
convention of ours, when her plenipotentiary signed that of Aug.
11, 1802, which the United States now require her to ratify.
Circumstances which have since taken place have, fortunately,
furnished Spain with an occasion for retracing the false step
she took in signing this convention. The Federal government,
which by different acts relative to the Floridas has violated
the sovereign rights of Spain, and which for more than eighteen
months has refused to ratify its convention with her, has lost
the right to complain because the Court of Madrid now imitates
its refusal, and insists upon making such modifications in this
treaty as the lapse of time may make it think necessary and
better suited to its rights and dignity.”
After sending these instructions to Turreau, the French Minister for
Foreign Relations next turned to Spain, and wrote a note intended
to reassure Cevallos. The peculiar interest of this document lay in
the spirit it showed toward the United States. Cevallos had invited
an understanding as to the boundaries of Louisiana to be alleged
against the United States. These boundaries, defined eighteen months
before in the secret instructions for Victor, a copy of which was
given to Laussat, declared the Rio Bravo to be the western limit of
Louisiana:[212] “Bounded on the west by the river called Rio Bravo,
from the mouth of this stream up to the 30th parallel, beyond this
point the line of demarcation ceases to be traced, and it seems that
there has never been an agreement as to this part of the frontier.”
That Laussat meant to act on these instructions was proved by his
language to Governor Claiborne and General Wilkinson.[213] “M. Laussat
confidentially signified” to these two American commissioners that
the territory “did not comprehend any part of West Florida; adding at
the same time that it extended westwardly to the Rio Bravo, otherwise
called Rio del Norte.” Although Cevallos had remonstrated against the
indiscretion of this statement, he had not suggested that Laussat was
in error;[214] he merely invited Talleyrand to check a subordinate
officer, in order to limit American pretensions. In accordance with
this hint, Talleyrand marked for the Spanish government the line it was
to take in resisting the American claim to territory for which France
had received the purchase money.
After defining the western boundary of Florida as fixed by treaty
at the Iberville and the Mississippi rivers, the French minister
instructed the Spanish government as follows:[215]--
“The western limit of Louisiana not having been fixed in a
manner equally precise by the treaties which preceded that of
March 21, 1801, nor by that treaty itself, the uncertainty
which prevailed in regard to the direction of its frontiers
has necessarily continued since the cession made to the United
States. France could not even take upon herself to indicate
to the United States what ought to be that precise limit, for
fear of wounding on this point the pretensions of one or the
other Power directly interested in this question. It would have
become the object of negotiation between his Imperial and his
Catholic Majesties. To-day it can be treated only between Spain
and the United States. Nevertheless, as the Americans derive
their rights from France, I have been enabled to express to his
Imperial Majesty’s minister plenipotentiary near the United
States the chief bases on which the Emperor would have planted
himself in the demand for a demarcation of boundaries. Starting
from the Gulf of Mexico, we should have sought to distinguish
between settlements that belong to the kingdom of Mexico, and
settlements that had been formed by the French or by those
who succeeded them in this colony. This distinction between
settlements formed by the French or by the Spaniards would have
been made equally in ascending northwards. All those which are
of French foundation would have belonged to Louisiana; and since
European settlements in the interior are rare and scattered,
we might have imagined direct lines drawn from one to the other
to connect them; and it is to the west of this imaginary line
that the boundary between Louisiana and the Spanish possessions
would have been traced at such distance and in such direction
as France and Spain should have agreed. The great spaces which
sometimes exist between the last French settlements and the
last Spanish missions might have left still some doubts on the
direction of the boundary to be traced between them, but with
the views of friendship and conciliation which animate their
Majesties, these difficulties would have been soon smoothed
away.”
Such were, according to Talleyrand, the conciliatory intentions which
should have animated his Imperial Majesty. They were widely different
from the positive instructions formally approved by the First Consul
Nov. 26, 1802, which ordered Victor and Laussat to consider the Rio
Bravo as the boundary of their command. The difference was the whole
province of Texas.
On another point Talleyrand reassured the Spanish government.
“In any case,” said he, “the Court of Madrid would appear to
have no ground for the fear it shows that the United States
may make use of their possession of Louisiana in order to form
settlements on the northwest coast of America. Whatever boundary
may be agreed upon between Spain and the United States, the line
will necessarily be so far removed from the western coast of
America as to relieve the Court of Madrid from any anxiety on
that score.”
Yet no one knew better than Talleyrand the instincts of the American
people, and their ambition to use the entire continent for their
experiments! He knew that the First Consul, by his instructions to
Laussat, had given, so far as he could, the authority of both French
and Spanish governments to the claim of the United States that
Louisiana stretched westwardly to the Rio Bravo, and on the northwest
indefinitely to a line yet to be fixed. He knew that Laussat, who
hated the Spaniards more than he did the Americans, had betrayed the
secret. If Talleyrand hoped to repress American ambition, he must
have calculated on the effects of force or fear, or he must have been
overwhelmed by the immensity of the scale on which the Americans were
acting. The doctrine of contiguity, on which the United States could
rest their most plausible claim to Oregon, was as valid then as it ever
afterward became; and if Talleyrand did not appreciate it, Godoy proved
himself the more sagacious statesman.
By Sept. 1, 1804, these precautionary measures were completed, and
Talleyrand could wait for the coming of Monroe and Armstrong. About
the middle of October Monroe appeared in Paris. His instructions, sent
from Washington before the news of Pinckney’s extravagances had reached
America, obliged him to insist upon the right to West Florida as “a
_sine quâ non_, and no price to be given for it;”[216] to insist,
also, upon the right to Texas, but with a border-land to be kept
unsettled for thirty years; and to offer two million dollars for East
Florida beyond the Perdido. The Cabinet then for the first time decided
to commit itself to the doctrine that West Florida was a part of the
Louisiana purchase,[217] alleging as its ostensible reason, not so much
the abstract justice of the title, as the wish to avoid acknowledging
Spanish land-grants made in Florida since the Louisiana cession.
“It is indispensable,” wrote Madison, April 15, 1804, “that
the United States be not precluded from such a construction
[of the treaty],--first, because they consider the right as
well founded; secondly and principally, because it is known
that a great proportion of the most valuable lands between
the Mississippi and the Perdido have been granted by Spanish
officers since the cession was made by Spain. These illicit
speculations cannot otherwise be frustrated than by considering
the territory as included in the cession made by Spain.”
The hope that Spain might submit to these concessions rested on the
belief that she could not afford to quarrel with the United States.
Foreseeing that she must soon be drawn into the war with England, the
President from the first looked forward to that event, believing that
the same reasons which as he supposed had forced Bonaparte to cede
Louisiana, must reconcile Spain to the cession of Florida.
“Should she be engaged in the war,” wrote Madison to Monroe,
“or manifestly threatened with that situation, she cannot fail
to be the more anxious for a solid accommodation on all points
with the United States, and the more willing to yield, for that
purpose, to terms which, however proper in themselves, might
otherwise be rejected by her pride and misapplied jealousy.”
The first part of this calculation was realized even before Monroe
quitted London. Oct. 1, 1804, a British squadron seized the Spanish
treasure-ships on their voyage from America; and no one doubted that
Spain must declare war. She did so a few weeks later, December 12,
before Monroe reached Madrid. The effect of this new disaster on what
Madison called her “misapplied jealousy” remained to be seen.
The only published record of Monroe’s stay in Paris is contained
in a note dated Nov. 8, 1804, which he persuaded Livingston to
convey to Talleyrand. Although Livingston’s temper was peculiar, and
his diplomacy under ordinary circumstances restless, he was well
acquainted with the men who governed France; and he had little faith
in another man’s ability to do what he had himself attempted in vain.
That Livingston should be jealous of Monroe’s presence in Paris was
natural; for the American minister at London was not accredited to the
Emperor, and his interference could do nothing but harm to the actual
minister at Paris. When asked to act as medium for Monroe’s proposed
communications with Talleyrand, Livingston made objections. Not until
Armstrong arrived, about November 1, did the ministers agree upon the
terms of the note, and send it to its address. Monroe had then been one
month absent from London.
Nothing could be more courteous than the tone of Monroe’s letter, which
ignored Pinckney’s conduct, and breathed a spirit of benevolence.[218]
The object of writing was to ask the Emperor’s good offices in support
of the negotiation to be opened at Madrid; and in order to reach this
end, Monroe touched on the story of his present mission, recounting
the causes of the previous quarrel with Spain, and alluding to West
Florida, the spoliation claims, the claims for damages rising from
Morales’s occlusion of the Mississippi, and to the Mobile Act, which,
as Monroe admitted, was intended to authorize the taking immediate
possession of Florida. The only offensive idea suggested in the note
was that the Spanish occupation of Florida implied an aggression
against the United States, “which tends to provoke hostility and lead
to war.”
The note combining the diplomacy of three ministers was sent; and
the three diplomatists waited in fear of what would follow, dreading
nothing so much as Talleyrand’s answer. They had reason to know that it
would be unfavorable, and that at least on the question of West Florida
Talleyrand had already committed himself against the United States.
They were told, too, that on reading their note Napoleon showed great
irritation. Besides this, they had other causes of alarm. Within three
days after Monroe’s arrival at Paris, Marbois, his best friend among
Napoleon’s ministers, told him that the question was one of money:[219]
“Such was the situation of Spain at this time, that he was persuaded if
we would make her suitable pecuniary accommodations we might succeed.”
M. Hauterive, another gentleman within the circle of government, soon
afterward repeated the remark: “Spain must cede territory; the United
States must pay money.” Care was taken to let Monroe understand that
once this principle should be agreed upon, France would cause the
negotiation to be transferred to Paris. Armstrong soon afterward wrote
to Madison, alluding to the story in regard to the Emperor:[220]--
“This country has determined to convert the negotiation into a
job, and to draw from it advantages merely pecuniary to herself,
or, in other language, to her agents. It is this venality that
explains her present reserve, the degree of excitement displayed
by the Emperor on reading the note, and the marked incivility
with which Mr. Monroe was treated by Talleyrand. Since his
departure, repeated intimations have been given to me that if
certain persons could be sufficiently gratified, the negotiation
should be transferred hither, and brought to a close with which
we should have no reason to find fault.”
Monroe, though honest as any man in public life, and more courageous
in great emergencies than some of his friends or rivals, was commonly
not quick at catching an idea, nor did he see it at last from a great
elevation; but in this instance the idea was thrust so persistently
into his face, that had he been blind he could not have missed it.
Nothing could more clearly explain his situation than the language of
the diary in which he recorded, for the President’s benefit, the daily
course of his conduct.
“No other alternative,” he explained,[221] “presented itself
to me than to abandon the object and return to London, or to
submit to the terms which it was sufficiently well understood
France was willing to accept, and seemed in some measure to
dictate, which amounted to this: that we should create a new
loan of about seventy millions of livres, and transfer the same
to Spain, who would immediately pass them over to France, in
consideration of which we should be put in possession of the
disputed territory, under stipulations which should provide for
the adjustment of the ultimate right there, and reimbursement of
the money by instalment in seven years.”
“To submit to the terms proposed was altogether out of the question,”
continued Monroe. Having led his Government to take the ground that
West Florida had already been bought, he could not enter into a
negotiation to buy it a second time. His instructions made this point
a _sine quâ non_ of negotiation. Recognizing that under these
circumstances further effort was useless, or in his own words that no
other alternative presented itself but to abandon the object and return
to London, Monroe intimated to Talleyrand that he meant not only to pay
no money, but also to negotiate in spite of Napoleon; and started for
Madrid.
“I did not hesitate,” he wrote home,[222] “in many informal
communications, the substance of which I was persuaded were
made known to those in power, to declare most solemnly that
I would sanction no measure which contemplated a payment of
money to Spain in any transaction we might have with her in the
affair,--by which was meant, by creation of stock or otherwise
which took the money from our people; that neither the state of
things between the parties, the example of France in a similar
case, or my instructions, permitted it. These conversations were
with a person who possessed the confidence of certain persons in
power, as well as my own, though they were not of a nature to
compromit either party. That circumstance enabled me to speak
with the utmost freedom, and perhaps to say things which it
might have been difficult to press directly in the same manner
to the parties themselves.”
In thus defying France, Monroe, if he resembled European diplomatists,
must have aimed at giving his Government an opportunity to break with
the Emperor and to proceed against Florida by means of force. That he
should have still hoped for success in negotiating at Madrid was hardly
possible. Armstrong thought his chance desperate.[223]
“Mr. Monroe has no doubt communicated to you,” he wrote to the
Secretary of State, “the motives which induced him to leave
England in prosecution of his mission to Spain, and while here
to attempt to draw from this Government some new declaration
in support of our construction of the late treaty. With this
view a note was prepared and transmitted through Livingston,
the receipt of which was acknowledged by Mr. Talleyrand with a
promise that ‘an answer should be given to it as soon as the
Emperor should have signified his will on the subject.’ Having
waited nearly a month, and no answer being given, having some
reason to believe that any declaration from this Court now would
be less favorable than those already made, and fearful lest
something might be lost at Madrid, while nothing could be gained
here, he set out on the 8th instant for Spain. I have but little
hope, however, that he will be able to do more than fulfil the
forms of his mission.”
Armstrong preferred, as he expressed it, “an effort (which cannot fail)
to do the business at home.” He had already discovered that the Emperor
was personally irritated with the Americans, that he took no pains to
conceal it, and that this irritation was a cause of his reserve.
“I have employed every means in my power to ascertain the cause
of this cause, and have learned from a person sufficiently
near him to know the fact, that this temper originated in
representations made by Leclerc and others from St. Domingo;
that it has since been kept alive by the incident of the war in
that country, the trade carried on between it and the United
States, the freedom with which he is treated in our press, the
matrimonial connection of Jerome, and, above all, the support
which principles he wishes to extinguish in France receive from
the progressing prosperity of the United States.”
With Napoleon in this frame of mind; with Godoy and Cevallos in a
humor far worse; and with Talleyrand in such a temper as not to allow
of his treating Monroe with civility,--the American plenipotentiary
departed to Madrid, hoping that something might occur to overcome his
difficulties. During his journey, Charles IV. declared war against
England. This long-foreseen event, which should have brought Spain to
terms with the United States, in fact threw her only at the feet of
Napoleon. Henceforward every offence to Spain was an offence to France,
which the Emperor was the more bound to resent because by treaty he
must regard a war upon Charles IV. as a war upon himself.
Talleyrand was not vindictive, but he had been twice mortified by the
failure of his policy toward America. If his callous cheek could burn,
it was still red with the blow which the last President of the United
States had struck it; and no waters of oblivion could drown in his
memory the cry of distress with which he had then begged for mercy. He
had been again overthrown by the present President, and obliged to sell
Louisiana, turn his back on the traditions of France, and shut up his
far-reaching mind within the limit of his master’s artillery politics.
Day by day he saw more clearly that soldiership, and not statecraft,
was to guide the destinies of France, and that the new _régime_
was but revolution without ideas. He had probably begun already to
feel that the presence of his coldly silent face was becoming irksome
to a will which revolted at the memory of a remonstrance. Talleyrand
was corrupt,--perhaps he thought himself more corrupt than he was; but
his political instincts were sounder than his private morality. He was
incarnate conservatism; but he was wider-minded and more elevated in
purpose than Napoleon. He had no faith in Napoleon’s methods, and was
particularly hostile to his projects against Spain; but in respect to
Monroe and his mission, Talleyrand’s ideas coincided with those of
the Emperor; and when two such men marked out a victim, his chance of
escape was small.
Talleyrand was not to blame that Monroe’s note remained unanswered
before Monroe left Paris. About ten days after receiving it Talleyrand
made to the Emperor a report on the subject, so cool and clear as to
read like a mathematical demonstration.[224]
“The United States,” he began, “who wish to negotiate at Madrid
under the auspices of France for the acquisition of Florida,
have acquired little title to the good offices of the Emperor by
the sharpness of tone and the want of civility (_égards_)
with which they have conducted themselves toward Spain.”
After enumerating the threats and aggressions of the United States
government against Spain during the last three years, the report
disposed of the American claims, one by one, in few words. First, the
spoliations, which had been formally abandoned by treaty; second, the
claim for losses rising from the interruption of _entrepôt_ at New
Orleans, which “should be terminated by the treaty of cession,--the
acquisition of an immense country might throw out of view some anterior
losses;” finally, the claim to West Florida,--a species of attack on
the Emperor’s dignity and good faith which merited some expression of
his displeasure. To support this view, Talleyrand related the history
of the French negotiation for West Florida and its failure, commenting
on the manner in which the Americans had fabricated their claim, and
coming at last to a conclusion studiously moderate, and evidently in
harmony with the views of Hauterive as expressed to Monroe. Talleyrand
rarely wrote such papers with his own hand; probably they were drawn
up under his directions by Hauterive, or some other subordinate of the
Office, in the form of suggestions rather than advice.
“According to such evidence, no one can suppose the United
States to be convinced of the justice of their rights; and we
are warranted in thinking that the Federal government, as a
result of confidence in its own strength, of its ambition, and
its ascendency in America, raises pretensions to a part of
Florida in order to show itself afterward more exacting toward
Spain. The Emperor will feel that justice requires him not to
recognize such pretensions. If he should assist by his good
offices an arrangement between the United States and Spain, he
would wish good faith and impartiality for its base.
Only in case the United States should desist from their
unjust pretensions to West Florida, and return to the forms
of civility and decorum,--from which in their relations with
each other governments should never depart,--could the Emperor
allow himself to second at the Court of Madrid the project of
acquisition of the two Floridas. Then perhaps the Emperor might
think that this country is less suited to Spain now that it is
separated from her other colonies, and that it is better suited
to the United States because a part of their Western rivers
cross the Floridas before flowing into the Gulf of Mexico; and
finally, that Spain may see in her actual situation, and in the
expenses entailed on her by the war, some motives for listening
to the offers of the Federal government.”
Talleyrand had great need to insist on “the forms of civility and
decorum from which governments should never depart”! Perhaps Talleyrand
already foresaw the scene, said to have occurred some two years later,
when Napoleon violently denounced him to his face as “a silk stocking
stuffed with filth,” and the minister coldly retaliated by the famous
phrase, “Pity that so great a man should be so ill brought up!” The
task of teaching manners to Jefferson was not Napoleon’s view of his
own functions in the world. He probably gave more attention to the
concluding lines of the report, which suggested that he should decide
whether a Spanish colony, made worthless by an arbitrary act of his
own, could be usefully employed in sustaining his wars.
This report, dated Nov. 19, 1804, lay some weeks in the Emperor’s
hands. Monroe left Paris for Madrid December 8, and still no answer had
been sent to his note. He wrote from Bordeaux, December 16, a long and
interesting letter to Madison, and resumed his journey. He could hardly
have crossed the Bidassoa when Armstrong received from Talleyrand,
December 21, the long-expected answer,[225] which by declaring the
claim to West Florida emphatically unfounded struck the ground from
under Monroe’s feet, and left him to repent at leisure his defiance of
Talleyrand’s advice. Under the forms of perfect courtesy, this letter
contained both sarcasm and menace. Talleyrand expressed curiosity to
learn the result of Monroe’s negotiation:--
“This result his Imperial Majesty will learn with real interest.
He saw with pain the United States commence their difficulties
with Spain in an unusual manner, and conduct themselves toward
the Floridas by acts of violence which, not being founded in
right, could have no other effect but to injure the lawful
owner. Such an aggression gave the more surprise to his Majesty
because the United States seemed in this measure to avail
themselves of their treaty with France as an authority for their
proceedings, and because he could scarcely reconcile with the
just opinion which he entertains of the wisdom and fidelity of
the Federal government a course of proceedings which nothing
can authorize toward a Power which has long occupied, and still
occupies, one of the first ranks in Europe.”
Madison and Monroe, as well as Jefferson, in the course of their
diplomacy had many mortifications to suffer; but they rarely received
a reprimand more keen than this. Yet its sharpness was so delicately
covered by the habitual forms of Talleyrand’s diplomacy that Americans,
who were accustomed to hear and to use strong language, hardly felt the
wound it was intended to inflict. After hearing Yrujo denounce an act
of their government as an “atrocious libel,” they were not shocked to
hear Talleyrand denounce the same act as one of violence which nothing
could authorize. The force of Talleyrand’s language was more apparent
to Godoy than to Madison, for it bore out every expression of Yrujo
and Cevallos. The Prince of Peace received a copy of Talleyrand’s
note at the moment when Monroe, after almost a month of weary winter
travel, joined Pinckney, who had for six months been employed only in
writing letter after letter begging for succor and support. Don Pedro
Cevallos, with this public pledge in his hand, and with secret French
pledges covering every point of the negotiation in his desk, could
afford to meet with good humor the first visit of the new American
plenipotentiary.
Pinckney’s humiliation was extreme. After breaking off relations with
Cevallos and pledging himself to demand his passports and to leave
Spain, he had been reduced to admit that his Government disavowed him;
and not only was he obliged to remain at Madrid, but also to sue for
permission to resume relations with Cevallos. The Spanish government
good-naturedly and somewhat contemptuously permitted him to do so; and
he was only distressed by the fear that Monroe might refuse to let him
take part in the new negotiation, for he was with reason confident
that Monroe would be obliged to follow in his own footsteps,--that the
United States could save its dignity and influence only by war.
At the beginning of the new year, Jan. 2, 1805, Monroe entered Madrid
to snatch Florida from the grasp of Spain and France. The negotiation
fell chiefly within Jefferson’s second term, upon which it had serious
results. But while Monroe, busy at Madrid with a quarrel which could
lead only to disappointment or war, thus left the legation at London
for eight months to take care of itself, events were occurring which
warned President Jefferson that the supreme test of his principles was
near at hand, and that a storm was threatening from the shores of Great
Britain compared with which all other dangers were trivial.