CHAPTER II.

DURING the administrations of Jefferson and Madison, the

national government was in the main controlled by ideas and interests

peculiar to the region south of the Potomac, and only to be understood

from a Southern stand-point. Especially its foreign relations were

guided by motives in which the Northern people felt little sympathy.

The people of the Northern States seemed almost unwilling to know what

the people of the Southern States were thinking or doing in certain

directions, and their indifference was particularly marked in regard

to Florida. Among the varied forms of Southern ambition, none was so

constant in influence as the wish to acquire the Floridas, which at

moments decided the action of the government in matters of the utmost

interest; yet the Northern public, though complaining of Southern

favoritism, neither understood nor cared to study the subject, but

turned impatiently away whenever the Floridas were discussed, as

though this were a local detail which in no way concerned the North.

If Florida failed to interest the North, it exercised the more control

over the South, and over a government Southern in character and

purpose. Neither the politics of the Union nor the development of

events could be understood without treating Florida as a subject of

the first importance. During the summer and autumn of 1805,--a period

which John Randolph justly regarded as the turning point of Republican

administration,--Florida actually engrossed the attention of

government.

On arriving at Madrid, Jan. 2, 1805, Monroe found Charles Pinckney

waiting in no happy temper for a decision in regard to himself.

Pinckney’s recall was then determined upon, and his successor chosen.

He was anxious only to escape the last humiliation of being excluded

from the new negotiation by Monroe. From this fear he was soon

relieved. Monroe shared his views; allowed him to take part in the

conferences, and to put his name to the notes. The two ministers acted

in harmony.

Nearly a month was consumed in the necessary preliminaries. Not

until Jan. 28, 1805, were matters so far advanced that Monroe could

present his first note.[10] Following his instructions, he put forward

all the claims which had been so often discussed,--the Spanish and

French spoliations; the losses resulting from suppression of the

_entrepôt_ at New Orleans in 1802; the claim of West Florida,

and that to the Rio Bravo. With the note the two envoys enclosed the

_projet_ of a treaty,--to which could be made only the usual

objection to one-sided schemes, that it required Spain to concede

every point, and offered no equivalent worth mention. Spain was to cede

both the Floridas, and also Texas as far as the Rio Colorado, leaving

the district between the Colorado and the Rio Bravo as a border-land

not to be further settled. She was to create a commission for arranging

the spoliation and _entrepôt_ claims; and this commission should

also take cognizance of all claims that might be made by Spanish

subjects against the United States government.

To this note and _projet_ Don Pedro Cevallos quickly replied.[11]

Availing himself of an inadvertent sentence in Monroe’s opening

paragraph, to the effect that it was necessary to examine impartially

the several points at issue in each case, Cevallos informed the

Americans that in accordance with their wish he would first examine

each point separately, and then proceed to negotiation. He proposed to

begin with the claims convention of August, 1802.

Commonly nothing gratified American diplomatists more than to discuss

questions which they were ordered to take in charge. Yet the readiness

shown by Cevallos to gratify this instinct struck Monroe as a bad sign;

he saw danger of lowering the national tone, and even of becoming

ridiculous, if he allowed the Spaniards to discuss indefinitely claims

which the United States had again and again asserted to be too plain

for discussion. He felt too the influence of Pinckney, who had never

ceased to urge that nothing could be done with the Spanish government

except through fear or force. He could not refuse discussion, but he

entered into it with the intention of promptly cutting it short.[12]

To cut the discussion short was precisely what Cevallos meant should

not be done; and a contest began, in which the Spaniard had every

advantage. Monroe replied to the Spanish note of January 31 by imposing

an ultimatum at once.[13] “We consider it our duty to inform your

Excellency that we cannot consent to any arrangement which does not

provide for the whole subject” of the claims, including the French

spoliations. “It is in his Majesty’s power, by the answer which you

give, to fix at once the relations which are to subsist in future

between the two nations.” Cevallos, leaving the ultimatum and the

French spoliations unnoticed, rejoined by discussing the conditions

which the King had placed on his consent to ratify the claims

convention of 1802.[14] Taking up first the Mobile Act, he expressed in

strong terms his opinion of it, and of the explanation given to it by

the President. Nevertheless, he withdrew his demand that the Act should

be annulled. The King’s “well-founded motives of complaint in respect

to that Act still exist,” he said, “and his Majesty intends to keep

them in mind, that satisfaction may be given by the United States; but

as it relates to ratifying the convention of August, 1802, his Majesty

agrees from this time to be satisfied in this respect.” The question of

French spoliations he reserved for separate discussion.

Monroe replied briefly by referring to his ultimatum, and by inviting

discussion of the boundary question; but Cevallos, instead of taking

up the matter of boundaries in his next note, discussed the French

spoliation claims and the right of deposit at New Orleans.[15] To rebut

the first, he produced a letter from Talleyrand dated July 27, 1804, in

which Napoleon announced that neither Spain nor the United States must

touch these claims, under penalty of incurring the Emperor’s severe

displeasure. In regard to the right of deposit, Cevallos took still

stronger ground:--

“The edict of the Intendant of New Orleans, suspending the

deposit of American produce in that city, did not interrupt,

nor was it the intention to interrupt, the navigation of the

Mississippi; consequently these pretended injuries are reduced

to this small point,--that for a short time the vessels loaded

in the stream instead of taking in their cargoes at the

wharves.... If the erroneous opinions which were formed in the

United States, if the complaints published in the papers of your

country,--as false as they were repeated,--that the navigation

of the Mississippi was interrupted, if the virulent writings by

which the public mind was heated, and which led to compromit

the American government and tarnish the good name of that of

Spain, were causes that the inhabitants of the western territory

of the United States could not form a correct idea of what

passed at New Orleans; and if, in this uncertainty, they were

disappointed in the extraction of their produce, or suffered

other inconveniences,--they ought to attribute the same to

internal causes, such as the writings before mentioned, filled

with inflammatory falsehoods, the violence of enthusiastic

partisans, and other occurrences which on those occasions served

to conceal the truth. The Government of Spain, so far from being

responsible for the prejudices occasioned by these errors and

erroneous ideas, ought in justice to complain of the irregular

conduct pursued by various writers and other individuals in

the United States, which was adapted to exasperate and mislead

the public opinion, and went to divulge sentiments the most

ignominious, and absurdities the most false, against the

government of his Majesty and his accredited good faith.”

Not satisfied with this rebuttal, Cevallos added that the persons who

complained of this trifling inconvenience “had been enjoying the rights

of deposit for four years more than was stipulated in the treaty, and

this notwithstanding the great prejudice it occasioned to his Majesty’s

revenue, by making New Orleans the centre of a most scandalous

contraband trade, the profits of which it is not improbable but that

some of those individuals have in part received.” Finally, he affirmed

the Intendants right to prohibit the deposit.

On receiving this paper, Monroe hesitated whether to break off the

negotiation; but quickly came to the decision not to do so. His

instructions expressly authorized him to abandon the _entrepôt_

claims; while a rupture founded on the French spoliations, in the face

of Talleyrand’s threats, was rupture with France as well as with Spain,

and exceeded his authority. He concluded to go on, although he saw that

every new step involved new dangers.

Before Monroe had prepared a reply to the sharp letter on the claims

convention, Cevallos wrote again.[16] In this letter, dated February

24, he discussed the West Florida boundary, and contented himself

with stating the Spanish case as it stood on the treaties and public

evidence. His argument contained no new points, but was evidently

intended to lure the Americans into endless discussion. Monroe was

obliged to follow where Cevallos led. February 26 he replied to the

Spanish note on the claims. Beginning with complaints that Cevallos had

not met with directness the American proposals; branching into other

complaints that he had renewed propositions which Monroe had already

declared incompatible with the rights of the United States; that he

had charged the American government with trying to obtain double

payment for the same loss, and had branded the whole American people

as being in league with smugglers; that he had attacked the freedom

of the press, and had called the right of deposit a charity of King

Charles,--after adding that “it was impossible for us to have received

a note which could have been more unexpected,” the two American envoys

began to discuss the French spoliation claims, “on the presumption that

no premeditated outrage was intended.”[17]

After a long argument on the French spoliations, Monroe’s note next

reached the most delicate point in discussion,--the positive order

of Napoleon forbidding recognition of the claims. Treating the order

as though it were only an expression of opinions, Monroe said, “We

have received them with the consideration which is due to the very

respectable authority from which they emanate. On all treaties

between independent Powers each party has a right to form its own

opinion. Every nation is the guardian of its own honor and rights;

and the Emperor is too sensible of what is due to his own glory, and

entertains too high a respect for the United States, to wish them to

abandon a just sense of what is due to their own.” Appealing finally

to the positive orders of his own government, Monroe repeated that

on these claims he must insist. Cevallos replied with a disavowal of

“premeditated outrage;” and there, March 1, 1805, after Monroe had

passed two months in Spain, he found himself at his starting-point, at

a loss how to go forward or to recede.

Monroe received early in February Talleyrand’s letter of Dec. 21, 1804,

on the boundary of West Florida;[18] he next suffered the mortification

of listening to Talleyrand’s order of July 27, 1804, forbidding Spain

to “condescend” to pay or even to discuss the French spoliation claims;

and from these documents he saw that for nearly a year past the French

and Spanish governments had combined to entrap and humiliate him.

The fault was his own, for he had received plain, not to say rude,

warning; but he was perhaps only the more angry on that account, and

in his irritation he undertook to terrify Napoleon. March 1, 1805,

under the full consciousness of his situation, he wrote to Armstrong at

Paris;[19]--

“It cannot be doubted that if our Government could be prevailed

on to give ground, that of France would be very glad of it, as

it would be to take us and all our concerns, especially our

funds, under its care. We are inclined to believe, with almost

equal confidence, if we are firm, and show that we are not only

able but resolved to take care of ourselves, that she will let

us do so, and in regard to this question with Spain throw her

weight into our scale to promote an adjustment between us on

the fair principles insisted on by our Government. To bring her

to this, she must clearly understand that the negotiation is

about to break up without doing anything, and that the failure

is entirely owing to the part she has taken against us. When

she sees that this is the literal fact, I do not think that her

government will expose itself to the consequences resulting from

it. It is not prepared to quarrel with us for many reasons:

first, as we are a republic, and that system of government too

recently overset there, and the one established in its stead too

feebly founded, to make it a desirable object with the Emperor;

second, as she relies altogether for supplies on our flag, and

on our merchants and people for many other friendly offices in

the way of trade, which none others can render; third, as our

government pursues, by prohibiting our trade with St. Domingo,

and in many other respects, a system of the most friendly

accommodation to the interests of France, she ought not to

hazard those advantages if there were no other objections to a

rupture with us; fourth,--but there are other and much stronger

objections to it,--we should come to a good understanding with

England.... These considerations incline us to think that a

rupture with us is an event which of all others she least seeks

at the present time; and that it is only necessary to let her

see distinctly that one with Spain is on the point of taking

place, and will be owing altogether to her support of her

pretensions, to induce France to change her policy and tone in

the points depending here.”

Pursuing this train of reasoning, Monroe tested its correctness by

challenging a direct issue of courage. His letter, thus inspired,

reached Paris in due time, and its ideas were pressed by Armstrong on

members of the French government. Their answer was prompt and final;

it was instantly reported by Armstrong to Monroe in a letter[20] so

pregnant with meaning that two of its sentences may be said to have

decided the fate of Jefferson’s second administration:--

“On the subject of indemnity for the suspended right of

deposit (professing to know nothing of the ground on which the

interruption had been given) they would offer no opinion. On

that of reparation for spoliations committed on our commerce by

Frenchmen within the territory of his Catholic Majesty, they

were equally prompt and decisive, declaring that our claim,

having nothing of solidity in it, must be abandoned.

“With regard to boundary, we have, they said, already given an

opinion, and see no cause to change it. To the question, What

would be the course of this government in the event of a rupture

between us and Spain? they answered, We can neither doubt nor

hesitate,--we must take part with Spain; and our note of the

30th Frimaire [Dec. 21, 1804] was intended to communicate and

impress this idea.”

This stern message left Monroe helpless. To escape from Madrid

without suffering some personal mortification was his best hope; and

fortunately Godoy took no pleasure in personalities. The Spaniard was

willing to let Monroe escape as soon as his defeat should be fairly

recorded. The month of March had nearly passed before Monroe received

Armstrong’s letter; meanwhile Cevallos consumed the time in discussing

the West Florida boundary. At the end of the month Monroe, fully aware

at last of his situation, attempted to force an issue. March 30 he

wrote to Cevallos that he was weary of delay:[21]

“It neither comports with the object of the present mission

nor its duties to continue the negotiation longer than it

furnishes a well-founded expectation that the just and friendly

policy which produced it, on the part of the United States, is

cherished with the same views by his Catholic Majesty.”

Unfortunately he had no excuse for breaking abruptly a negotiation

which he had himself invited; and Cevallos meant to give him at that

stage no such excuse, for the important question of the Texan boundary

remained to be discussed, and Talleyrand’s instructions on that point

must be placed on record by Spain.

Monroe wrote to Cevallos, April 9, that he considered “the negotiation

as essentially terminated by what has already occurred.[22]... Should

his Majesty’s government think proper to invite another issue, on it

will the responsibility rest for the consequences. The United States

are not unprepared for, or unequal to, any crisis which may occur.”

Three days later he repeated the wish to “withdraw from a situation

which, while it compromits the character of our government, cannot be

agreeable to ourselves.”[23] Cevallos took no notice of the threats,

and contented himself with repelling the idea that the blame of

breaking off the negotiation should rest upon him. Nevertheless he

hastened to record the opinion of his Government in regard to the last

claim of the United States,--the Texan boundary.

Here again Cevallos followed the guidance of Talleyrand. The

dividing-line between Louisiana and Texas, he said, ought to be decided

by the line between the French and Spanish settlements. The French post

of Natchitoches, on the Red River, was distant seven leagues from the

Spanish post of Nuestra Señora de los Adaes; and therefore the boundary

of Louisiana should run between these two points southward, along the

watershed, until it reached the Gulf of Mexico between the Marmentou

and the Calcasieu,--a boundary which deprived the United States not

only of Texas, but of an important territory afterward included in the

State of Louisiana.[24]

Eager as Monroe was to close the negotiation, he could not leave

this note without reply; and accordingly he consumed another week in

preparing more complaints of Cevallos’ dilatory conduct, and in proving

that Texas was included in the grant made by Louis XIV. to Anthony

Crozat in 1712. After disposing of that subject, he again begged

for a conclusion. “As every point has been thus fully discussed, we

flatter ourselves that we shall now be honored with your Excellency’s

propositions for the arrangement of the whole business.”[25] He

flattered himself in vain; ten days passed without an answer. May 1,

at a private interview, he tried to obtain some promise of action,

without better result than the usual obliging Spanish expressions; a

week afterward he made another attempt, with the same reply, followed

on Monroe’s part by an offer to concede even the point of dignity.

“Would Señor Cevallos listen to a new and more advantageous offer on

the part of the United States?” Cevallos replied that such a step would

be premature, as the discussion was not yet ended.[26] Monroe had no

choice but to break through the diplomatic net in which he had wound

himself; and at length, May 12, 1805, he sent a general ultimatum to

the Spanish government: If Spain would cede the Floridas, ratify the

claims convention of August, 1802, and accept the Colorado as the

Texan boundary, the United States would establish a neutral territory

a hundred miles wide on the eastern bank of the Colorado, from the

Gulf to the northern boundary of Louisiana; would assume the French

spoliation claims, abandon the _entrepôt_ claims, and accept the

cession of West Florida from the King, thereby abandoning the claim

that it was a part of Louisiana.[27]

To this note Cevallos replied three days afterward by a courteous but

decided letter, objecting in various respects to Monroe’s offers, and

summing up his objections in the comment that this scheme required

Spain to concede everything and receive nothing; she must give up both

the Floridas, half of Texas, and the claims convention, while she

obtained as an equivalent for these concessions only an abandonment of

claims which she did not acknowledge:[28]--

“The justice of the American government will not permit it to

insist on propositions so totally to the disadvantage of Spain;

and however anxious his Majesty may be to please the United

States, he cannot on his part assent to them, nor can he do less

than consider them as little conformable to the rights of his

Crown.”

Three days later Monroe demanded his passports. For once, Cevallos

showed as much promptness as Monroe could have desired. Without

expressing a regret, or showing so much as a complimentary wish to

continue the negotiation, Cevallos sent the passports, appointed the

very next day for Monroe’s audience of leave, and bowed the American

envoy out of Spain with an alacrity which contrasted strongly with the

delays that had hitherto wasted five months of time most precious to

the American minister at the Court of St. James. In truth, the Prince

of Peace had no longer an object to gain by detaining Monroe; he had

won every advantage which could be wrung from the situation, except

that of proving the defeat of the United States by publishing it to the

world. For this, he could trust Monroe.

After writing an angry letter to the French ambassador at Madrid,

Monroe went his way, May 26, leaving Pinckney to maintain the forms of

diplomatic relations with the Spanish government. Pinckney had still

more to suffer before escaping from the scene of his diplomatic trials.

The Spaniards began to plunder American commerce; the spoliations

of 1798 were renewed; the garrisons in West Florida and Texas were

reinforced; Cevallos paid no attention to complaints or threats. In

October Pinckney took leave and returned to America, and George W.

Erving was sent from London to take charge of the legation at Madrid.

Erving made an excellent representative within the narrow field of

action open to him as a mere _chargé d’affaires_; but he could

do little to stem the current of Spanish desperation. The Prince of

Peace, driven by France, England, and America nearer and nearer to

the precipice that yawned for the destruction of Spain, was willing

to see the world embroiled, in the hope of finding some last chance

in his favor. When Erving in December, five months after Monroe’s

departure, went to remonstrate against seizures of American ships in

flagrant violation of the treaty of 1795, Godoy received him with the

good-natured courtesy which marked his manners. “How go our affairs?”

he asked; “are we to have peace or war?” Erving called his attention to

the late seizures. The Prince replied that it was impossible for Spain

to allow American vessels to carry English property. “But we have a

treaty which secures us that right,” replied Erving. “Certainly, I know

you have a treaty, for I made it with Mr. Pinckney,” rejoined Godoy;

and he went on with entire frankness to announce that the “free-goods”

provision of that treaty would no longer be respected. Then he

continued, with laughable coolness,--

“You may choose either peace or war. ’Tis the same thing to

me. I will tell you candidly, that if you will go to war this

certainly is the moment, and you may take our possessions from

us. I advise you to go to war now, if you think that is best for

you; and then the peace which will be made in Europe will leave

us two at war.”[29]

Defiance could go no further. Elsewhere the Prince openly said that

the United States had brought things to such a point as to leave Spain

indifferent to the consequences. In war the President could only seize

Florida; and Florida was the price he asked for remaining at peace.

Mexico and Cuba were beyond his reach. Meanwhile Spain not only saved

the money due for the old claims, but plundered American commerce, and

still preserved her title to the Floridas and Texas,--a title which, at

least as concerned the Floridas, the Americans must sooner or later

extinguish.

Such was the result of the President’s diplomacy in respect to

Spain. War was its only natural outcome,--war with Spain; war with

Napoleon, who must make common cause with King Charles; coalition with

England; general recurrence to the ideas and precedents of the last

Administration. Jefferson had exasperated Spain and irritated France.

He must next decide whether this policy should be pursued to its

natural result.

Meanwhile Monroe returned to Paris, where he passed six weeks with

Armstrong and with his French acquaintances in conference on the proper

course to be pursued. Talleyrand was absent in Italy with the Emperor,

who May 26 received at Milan the iron crown of the Lombard kings. That

Napoleon was the real element of danger was clear to both envoys. A

policy which should force France to interfere on behalf of the United

States was their object; and on this, as on many points, Armstrong’s

ideas were more definite than those of Monroe, Madison, or Jefferson.

Even before Monroe left Madrid, he received a letter from Armstrong in

which the outline of a decisive plan was sketched:--

“It is simply to take a strong and prompt possession of the

northern bank of the Rio Bravo, leaving the eastern limit _in

statu quo_. A stroke of this kind would at once bring Spain

to reason, and France to her rescue, and without giving either

room to quarrel. You might then negotiate, and shape the

bargain pretty much as you pleased.”[30]

Evidently the seizure of Texas, leaving West Florida untouched, was the

only step which the President could properly take; for Texas had been

bought and paid for, whereas West Florida beyond doubt had never been

bought at all. Armstrong saw the weak point of Napoleon’s position,

and wished to attack it. He had no trouble in bringing Monroe to the

same conclusion, although in yielding to his arguments Monroe tacitly

abandoned the ground he had been persuaded by Livingston to take two

years before, that West Florida belonged to Louisiana.

“There is no shade of difference in our opinions,” wrote

Armstrong to Madison after Monroe’s arrival at Paris,[31] “and

so little in the course to be pursued with regard to Spain that

it is scarcely worth noticing. The whole may be reduced to this:

that instead of assailing the Spanish posts in West Florida, or

even indicating an intention to do so, I would (from motives

growing more particularly out of the character of the Emperor)

restrict the operations to such as may have been established

in Louisiana. This, with some degree of demonstration that we

meditate an embargo on our commercial intercourse with Spain and

her colonies, would compel this government to interpose promptly

and efficiently, and with dispositions to prevent the quarrel

from going further.”

Throughout these Spanish negotiations ran a mysterious note of

corruption which probably came not from Cevallos, Godoy, or King

Charles; for Spain was always the party to suffer, and France was

always the party to profit by Spanish sacrifices. That the jobbery had

its origin in Napoleon was improbable, for he too suffered from it.

Neither Napoleon nor Godoy was open to bribery in such a sense; they

were so high in power that small pecuniary motives had no influence

on their acts. Yet the Treasuries both of France and Spain were in

trouble, and were seeking resources. That Talleyrand had private

motives for conniving in their expedients cannot be proved; but in

1805, as in 1798, every attempt to turn negotiation into a job came

from Talleyrand’s intimate circle, the subordinates of the French

Foreign Office.[32] In June, Monroe found at Paris the same hints at

the influence of money which had irritated him in the preceding autumn;

and he wrote to Madison in a tone which showed that he gave them weight.

“I have conferred much,” he said,[33] “with the gentleman

alluded to in my letter from Bordeaux of December 16, and from

what I can gather am led to believe that France has withheld her

opinion on the western limits [Texas], to favor our pretensions

when she thinks proper to take a part in it; that she does not

think it proper so to do in the present stage, or until our

Government acts so as to make Spain apply to her. He thinks

she will then act; and settling the Spanish spoliation business

as by the treaty of 1802, and getting all that can be got for

Florida (he says eight millions of dollars are expected),

promote an adjustment.”

If Jefferson’s administration cared to commit an error of colossal

proportions, it had but to follow the hints of these irresponsible

agents of Marbois and Talleyrand, who presumed to say in advance what

motives would decide the mind of Napoleon. No man in France--neither

Talleyrand nor Berthier, nor even Duroc--knew the scope of the

Emperor’s ambition, or could foretell the expedients he would use or

reject. Monroe’s friend was ill-informed, or deceived him. France had

not withheld her opinion on the western limits; on the contrary, her

opinion had been exactly followed by Spain. Not Talleyrand, much less

Napoleon, but Cevallos himself had withheld that opinion from Monroe’s

knowledge, doubtless because he wished to keep a weapon in reserve for

use at close quarters if his antagonist should come so near. Had Monroe

not been discomfited before Cevallos exhausted his arsenal, this weapon

would certainly have been used for a final blow. Cevallos still held it

in reserve.

Leaving the Spanish affair embroiled beyond disentanglement, Monroe

recrossed the Channel, and July 23 found himself again in London.

During a century of American diplomatic history a minister of the

United States has seldom if ever within six months suffered, at

two great Courts, such contemptuous treatment as had then fallen to

Monroe’s lot. That he should have been mortified and anxious for escape

was natural. He returned to England, meaning to sail as quickly as

possible for America. “It was very much my wish,” he wrote.[34] Hoping

to sail at latest by November 1, he selected his ship, and gave notice

to the British Foreign Office. In his own interests no step could have

been wiser, but it was taken too late; the time lost in Spain and at

Paris had been fatal to his plan, and he could no longer avoid another

defeat more serious, and even more public, than the two which had

already disturbed his temper.

That the American minister in London at any time should for six months

leave his post, even in obedience to instructions, was surprising; but

that he should have done this in 1804, after Pitt’s return to power,

was matter of amazement. Monroe expected an unfriendly change of

policy in the British government. As early as June, 1804, he wrote to

Madison: “My most earnest advice is to look to the possibility of such

a change.”[35] Four months later, although the attitude of the British

ministry had become more threatening, Monroe started for Madrid,

leaving Pitt in peace, unwatched, to take his measures and to fix

beyond recall his change of policy. July 23, 1805, when the American

minister at last returned from his Spanish journey and arrived in

London, after some weeks lost at Paris, he found a state of affairs

such as might have alarmed the most phlegmatic of men.

Pitt had made good use of Monroe’s absence. During the winter of

1804–1805 Parliament passed several Acts tending to draw all the

West Indian commerce into British hands. Throughout the West Indies

free ports were thrown open to the enemy’s vessels, which were

encouraged to bring there the produce of their colonies, receiving

British merchandise in return, while the Act further provided for the

importation of this enemy’s produce into Great Britain in British

ships. Other Acts and Orders extended the system of licenses, by which

British subjects were allowed to trade with their enemies in neutral

vessels, and concluded by requiring that all their trade with the

French islands should be carried on through the free ports alone.[36]

These measures were intended to force the trade of the French and

Spanish colonies into a British channel; but all were secondary to

a direct attack on American commerce. While Parliament and Council

devised the legislation and rules necessary for taking charge of the

commerce of Cuba, Martinique, and the other hostile colonies, the Lords

of Appeals were engaged in providing the law necessary for depriving

America of the same trade. July 23, 1805, Sir William Scott pronounced

judgment in the case of the “Essex.” Setting aside his ruling in the

case of the “Polly,”[37] he held that the neutral cargo which came from

Martinique to Charleston, and thence to London, was good prize unless

the neutral owner could prove, by something more than the evidence of a

custom-house entry, that his original intention had been to terminate

the voyage in an American port. In consequence of this decision, within

a few weeks American ships by scores were seized without warning;

neutral insurance was doubled; and the British merchantmen vied with

the royal navy in applauding the energy of William Pitt.

Of the decision as a matter of morality something might be said.

That Pitt should have planned such a scheme was not surprising, for

his moral sense had been blunted by the desperation of his political

struggle; but the same excuse did not apply to Sir William Scott. The

quarrel between law and history is old, and its source lies deep.

Perhaps no good historian was ever a good lawyer: whether any good

lawyer could be a good historian might be equally doubted. The lawyer

is required to give facts the mould of a theory; the historian need

only state facts in their sequence. In law Sir William Scott was

considered as one of the greatest judges that ever sat on the English

bench, a man of the highest personal honor, sensitive to any imputation

on his judicial independence,--a lawyer in whom the whole profession

took pride. In history he made himself and his court a secret

instrument for carrying out an act of piracy. The law defends him by

throwing responsibility upon the political chiefs who were bound to

make compensation to the plundered merchants if compensation was due.

The judge’s duty began and ended by declaring what was law. Experience

had proved that the evidence previously required to convince the court

of a certain fact was insufficient. The judge said this, and no more.

History replies that whatever may be the strictly professional aspect

of this famous judgment, in its nature it was a political act, and was

known by the judge to be such. As a political measure its character

was equivalent to a declaration of war, and did not materially differ

from the more violent seizure of the Spanish treasure-ships by Pitt’s

order in the previous October. The lawyers justified that seizure also;

the King’s Advocate defended it in the House of Commons by the simple

explanation that England was not in the habit of declaring war, but

usually began hostilities by some act of force.[38] Lord Grenville,

whom Pitt had entreated, only a few months before, to join the new

ministry, and who was certainly considered as, next to Pitt himself,

the highest political authority in England, was not deterred by this

reasoning from denouncing the seizure of the Spanish galleons as an

atrocious act of barbarity, contrary to all the law of nations, which

stamped indelible infamy on the English name. Lord Grey, another high

authority, stigmatized it as combining violence, injustice, and bad

faith. The seizure of the American ships was an act different in its

nature only in so far as Sir William Scott condescended to throw over

it in advance the ermine that he wore.

Monroe reached London on the very day when Sir William Scott pronounced

his fatal decision in the case of the “Essex.” Lord Harrowby no longer

presided over the Foreign Office; he had taken another position,

making way for Lord Mulgrave. The new Foreign Secretary was, like most

of Pitt’s ministers in 1805, a Tory gentleman of moderate abilities.

Except as a friend of Pitt he was unknown. His character and opinions

seemed wholly without importance. To Lord Mulgrave, Monroe addressed

himself; and he found the Foreign Secretary as ready to discuss, and as

slow to concede, as Don Pedro Cevallos had ever been.[39] “He assured

me in the most explicit terms that nothing was more remote from the

views of his Government than to take an unfriendly attitude toward the

United States; he assured me also that no new orders had been issued,

and that his Government was disposed to do everything in its power to

arrange this and the other points to our satisfaction.” Yet when Monroe

called his attention to the seizure of a score of American vessels in

the Channel, by British naval officers who declared themselves to be

acting by order, Lord Mulgrave quietly replied that the Rule of 1756

was good law, and that his Government did not mean to relax in the

slightest degree from the rigor of Sir William Scott’s decision.[40]

Monroe had felt the indifference or contempt of Lord Harrowby,

Talleyrand, and Cevallos: that of Lord Mulgrave was but one more

variety of a wide experience. The rough treatment of Monroe by the

Englishman was a repetition of that which he had accepted or challenged

at the hands of the Frenchman and Spaniard. Lord Mulgrave showed no

wish to trouble himself in any way about the United States. He would

not discuss the questions of impressment and commerce; and his only

sign of caring to explain or excuse the measures of his Government

was in regard to Captain Bradley of the “Cambrian,” who had been

recalled from the American station for violations of neutrality. Monroe

complained that Bradley had since been given a ship of the line.

Mulgrave explained that the command of a line-of-battle ship was not

necessarily a promotion, especially to an active officer accustomed to

the independence and prize-money of the “Cambrian’s” cruising ground.

With this result Monroe’s diplomatic activity for the year 1804–1805

came to an end. The only conclusion he drew from it was one which

Jefferson seemed little likely to adopt. He urged his Government to

persevere in its course, and to threaten war upon France, Spain, and

England at once.[41] “We probably shall never be able to settle our

concerns with either Power without pushing our just claims on each with

the greatest decision.... I am strong in the opinion that a pressure on

each at the same time would produce a good effect with the other.”

Nevertheless, Monroe had not yet reached the bottom of his English

disaster. Neither the Acts of Parliament, the Orders in Council, nor

the Judgment of the Lords of Appeal satisfied the suffering interests

of England, however harsh they might seem to the interests of America.

The new rules, the extension of licenses, the opening of free ports,

tended to please the navy and shipping interests, but left the British

colonists in a worse position than before; for as matters stood the

whole produce of the West Indian Islands, French, Spanish, and British,

was to be collected in a single mass and thrown on the London market.

The warehouses on the Thames were to be overfilled with sugar, on the

chance that neutral ships might convey it to France. For five years

the colonists had insisted that their distress was due to excess

in production; but how could they check production when the French

and Spanish islands were encouraged to produce? Forgetting in their

despair the attachment they felt to America, the colonists attributed

all their troubles to American competition. The East India Company,

whose warehouses were also loaded with unsalable goods, could discover

no better reason than the same neutral rivalry for the cessation of

Continental demand. The shipowners, not yet satisfied by Sir William

Scott’s law, echoed the same cry. All the interested classes of

England, except the manufacturers and merchants who were concerned in

commerce with the United States, agreed in calling upon government to

crush out the neutral trade. Sir William Scott had merely required an

additional proof of its honesty; England with one voice demanded that,

honest or not, it should be stopped.

This almost universal prayer found expression in a famous pamphlet that

has rarely had an equal for ability and effect. In October, 1805, three

months after the “Essex” decision, while Monroe was advising Madison to

press harder than ever on all the great belligerent Powers, appeared

in London a book of more than two hundred pages, with the title: “War

in Disguise; or, the Frauds of the Neutral Flags.” The author was

James Stephen, a man not less remarkable for his own qualities than

for those which two generations of descendants have inherited from

him; but these abilities, though elevating him immensely above the

herd of writers who in England bespattered America with abuse, and in

America befouled England, were yet of a character so peculiar as to bar

his path to the highest distinction. James Stephen was a high-minded

fanatic, passionately convinced of the truths he proclaimed. Two

years after writing “War in Disguise,” he published another pamphlet,

maintaining that the Napoleonic wars were a divine chastisement of

England for her tolerance of the slave-trade; and this curious thesis

he argued through twenty pages of close reasoning.[42] Through life a

vehement enemy of slavery, at a time when England rang with abuse of

America, which he had done much to stimulate, he had the honesty and

courage to hold America up as an example before Europe, and to assert

that in abolishing the slave-trade she had done an act for which it was

impossible to refuse her the esteem of England, and in consequence of

which he prayed that harmony between the two countries might be settled

on the firmest foundation.

This insular and honest dogmatism, characteristic of many robust minds,

Stephen carried into the question of neutral trade. He had himself

begun his career in the West Indies, and in the prize-court at St.

Kitt’s had learned the secrets of neutral commerce. Deeply impressed

with the injury which this trade caused to England, he believed himself

bound to point out the evil and the remedy to the British public.

Assuming at the outset that the Rule of 1756 was a settled principle

of law, he next assumed that the greater part of the neutral trade was

not neutral at all, but was a fraudulent business, in which French or

Spanish property, carried in French or Spanish ships, was by means of

systematic perjury protected by the prostituted American flag.

How much of this charge was true will never be certainly known. Stephen

could not prove his assertions. The American merchants stoutly denied

them. Alexander Baring, better informed than Stephen and far less

prejudiced, affirmed that the charge was untrue, and that if the facts

could be learned, more British than enemy’s property would be found

afloat under the American flag. Perhaps this assertion was the more

annoying of the two; but to prove either the one or the other was

needless, since from such premises Stephen was able to draw a number of

startling conclusions which an English public stood ready to accept.

The most serious of these was the certain ruin of England from the

seduction of her seamen into this fraudulent service; another was the

inevitable decay of her merchant marine; still another pointed to the

loss of the Continental market; and he heightened the effect of all

these evils by adding a picture of the British admiral in the decline

of life raised to the peerage for his illustrious actions, and enjoying

a pension from the national bounty, but still unable to spend so much

money as became an English peer, because his Government had denied to

him the “safe booty” of the neutral trade![43] Humor was not Stephen’s

strongest quality, or he never would have caricatured the British mind

so coarsely; but coarse as the drawing might be, England was not

conscious of the caricature. Cobbett alone could have done justice to

the pecuniary sanctity of the British peerage; but on this point humor

was lost to the world, for Cobbett and Stephen were in accord.

Thus a conviction was established in England that the American

trade was a fraud which must soon bring Great Britain to ruin, and

that the Americans who carried on this commerce were carrying on a

“war in disguise” for the purpose of rescuing France and Spain from

the pressure of the British navy. The conclusion was inevitable.

“Enforce the Rule of 1756!” cried Stephen; “cut off the neutral trade

altogether!” This policy, which went far beyond the measures of Pitt

and the decision of Sir William Scott, was urged by Stephen with great

force; while he begged the Americans, in temperate and reasonable

language, not to make war for the protection of so gross a fraud.

Other writers used no such self-restraint. The austere and almost

religious conviction of Stephen could maintain itself at a height where

no personal animosity toward America mingled its bitterness with his

denunciations; but his followers, less accustomed than he to looking

for motives in their Bibles, said simply that the moment for going to

war with the United States had come, and that the opportunity should be

seized.[44]

History of the United States of America, Volume 3 (of 9) · 第 2 / 19 章