CHAPTER VIII.

SECRETARY OF STATE.--THE ASHBURTON TREATY.

There is one feature in the history, or rather in the historic scenery of

this period, which we are apt to overlook. The political questions, the

debates, the eloquence of that day, give us no idea of the city in which

the history was made, or of the life led by the men who figured in that

history. Their speeches might have been delivered in any great centre of

civilization, and in the midst of a brilliant and luxurious society. But

the Washington of 1841, when Mr. Webster took the post which is officially

the first in the society of the capital and of the country, was a very odd

sort of place, and widely different from what it is to-day. It was not a

village, neither was it a city. It had not grown, but had been created for

a special purpose. A site had been arbitrarily selected, and a city laid

out on the most magnificent scale. But there was no independent life, for

the city was wholly official in its purposes and its existence. There were

a few great public buildings, a few large private houses, a few hotels and

boarding houses, and a large number of negro shanties. The general effect

was of attempted splendor, which had resulted in slovenliness and

straggling confusion. The streets were unpaved, dusty in summer, and deep

with mud in winter, so that the mere difficulty of getting from place to

place was a serious obstacle to general society. Cattle fed in the streets,

and were milked by their owners on the sidewalk. There was a grotesque

contrast between the stately capitol where momentous questions were

eloquently discussed and such queerly primitive and rude surroundings. Few

persons were able to entertain because few persons had suitable houses.

Members of Congress usually clubbed together and took possession of a

house, and these "messes," as they were called,--although without doubt

very agreeable to their members,--did not offer a mode of life which was

easily compatible with the demands of general society. Social enjoyments,

therefore, were pursued under difficulties; and the city, although

improving, was dreary enough.

Society, too, was in a bad condition. The old forms and ceremonies of the

men of 1789 and the manners and breeding of our earliest generation of

statesmen had passed away, and the new democracy had not as yet a system of

its own. It was a period of transition. The old customs had gone, the new

ones had not crystallized. The civilization was crude and raw, and in

Washington had no background whatever,--such as was to be found in the old

cities and towns of the original thirteen States. The tone of the men in

public life had deteriorated and was growing worse, approaching rapidly its

lowest point, which it reached during the Polk administration. This was due

partly to the Jacksonian democracy, which had rejected training and

education as necessary to statesmanship, and had loudly proclaimed the

great truths of rotation in office, and the spoils to the victors, and

partly to the slavery agitation which was then beginning to make itself

felt. The rise of the irrepressible conflict between freedom and slavery

made the South overbearing and truculent; it produced that class of

politicians known as "Northern men with Southern principles," or, in the

slang of the day, as "doughfaces;" and it had not yet built up a strong,

vigorous, and aggressive party in the North. The lack of proper social

opportunities, and this deterioration among men in public life, led to an

increasing violence and roughness in debate, and to a good deal of coarse

dissipation in private. There was undoubtedly a brighter side, but it was

limited, and the surroundings of the distinguished men who led our

political parties in 1841 at the national capital, do not present a very

cheerful or attractive picture.

When the new President appeared upon the scene he was followed by a general

rush of hungry office-seekers, who had been starving for places for many

years. General Harrison was a brave, honest soldier and pioneer, simple in

heart and manners, unspoiled and untaught by politics of which he had had a

good share. He was not a great man, but he was honorable and well

intentioned. He wished to have about him the best and ablest men of his

party, and to trust to their guidance for a successful administration. But

although he had no desire to invent a policy, or to draft state papers, he

was determined to be the author of his own inaugural speech, and he came to

Washington with a carefully-prepared manuscript in his pocket. When Mr.

Webster read this document he found it full of gratitude to the people, and

abounding in allusions to Roman history. With his strong sense of humor,

and of the unities and proprieties as well, he was a good deal alarmed at

the proposed speech; and after much labor, and the expenditure of a good

deal of tact, he succeeded in effecting some important changes and

additions. When he came home in the evening, Mrs. Seaton, at whose house he

was staying, remarked that he looked worried and fatigued, and asked if

anything had happened. Mr. Webster replied, "You would think that something

had happened if you knew what I have done. I have killed seventeen Roman

proconsuls." It was a terrible slaughter for poor Harrison, for the

proconsuls were probably very dear to his heart. His youth had been passed

in the time when the pseudo classicism of the French Republic and Empire

was rampant, and now that, in his old age, he had been raised to the

presidency, his head was probably full of the republics of antiquity, and

of Cincinnatus called from the plough, to take the helm of state.

M. de Bacourt, the French minister at this period, a rather shallow and

illiberal man who disliked Mr. Webster, gives, in his recently published

correspondence, the following amusing account of the presentation of the

diplomatic corps to President Harrison,--a little bit of contemporary

gossip which carries us back to those days better than anything else could

possibly do. The diplomatic corps assembled at the house of Mr. Fox, the

British minister, who was to read a speech in behalf of the whole body, and

thence proceeded to the White House where

"the new Secretary of State, Mr. Webster, who is much embarrassed

by his new functions, came to make his arrangements with Mr. Fox.

This done, we were ranged along the wall in order of seniority, and

after too long a delay for a country where the chief magistrate has

no right to keep people waiting, the old General came in, followed

by all the members of his Cabinet, who walked in single file, and

so kept behind him. He then advanced toward Mr. Fox, whom Mr.

Webster presented to him. Mr. Fox read to him his address. Then the

President took out his spectacles and read his reply. Then, after

having shaken hands with the English minister, he walked from one

end of our line to the other, Mr. Webster presenting each of us by

name, and he shaking hands with each one without saying a word.

This ceremony finished he returned to the room whence he had come,

and reappeared with Mrs. Harrison--the widow of his eldest

son--upon his arm, whom he presented to the diplomatic corps _en

masse_. Mr. Webster, who followed, then presented to us Mrs.

Finley, the mother of this Mrs. Harrison, in the following terms:

'Gentlemen, I introduce to you Mrs. Finley, the lady who attends

Mrs. Harrison;' and observe that this good lady who attends the

others--takes care of them--is blind. Then all at once, a crowd of

people rushed into the room. They were the wives, sisters,

daughters, cousins, and lady friends of the President and of all

his ministers, who were presented to us, and _vice versa_, in the

midst of an inconceivable confusion."

Fond, however, as Mr. Webster was of society, and punctilious as he was in

matters of etiquette and propriety, M. de Bacourt to the contrary

notwithstanding, he had far more important duties to perform than those of

playing host and receiving foreign ministers. Our relations with England

when he entered the cabinet were such as to make war seem almost

inevitable. The northeastern boundary, undetermined by the treaty of 1783,

had been the subject of continual and fruitless negotiation ever since that

time, and was still unsettled and more complicated than ever. It was agreed

that there should be a new survey and a new arbitration, but no agreement

could be reached as to who should arbitrate or what questions should be

submitted to the arbitrators, and the temporary arrangements for the

possession of the territory in dispute were unsatisfactory and precarious.

Much more exciting and perilous than this old difficulty was a new one and

its consequences growing out of the Canadian rebellion in 1837. Certain of

the rebels fled to the United States, and there, in conjunction with

American citizens, prepared to make incursions into Canada. For this

purpose they fitted out an American steamboat, the Caroline. An expedition

from Canada crossed the Niagara River to the American shore, set fire to

the Caroline, and let her drift over the Falls. In the fray which occurred,

an American named Durfree was killed. The British government avowed this

invasion to be a public act and a necessary measure of self-defence; but it

was a question when Mr. Van Buren went out of office whether this avowal

had been made in an authentic manner. There was another incident, however,

also growing out of this affair, even more irritating and threatening than

the invasion itself. In November, 1840, one Alexander McLeod came from

Canada to New York, where he boasted that he was the slayer of Durfree, and

thereupon was at once arrested on a charge of murder and thrown into

prison. This aroused great anger in England, and the conviction of McLeod

was all that was needed to cause immediate war. In addition to these

complications was the question of the right of search for the impressment

of British seamen and for the suppression of the slave-trade. Our

government was, of course, greatly hampered in action by the rights of

Maine and Massachusetts on the northeastern boundary, and by the fact that

McLeod was within the jurisdiction and in the power of the New York courts,

and wholly out of reach of those of the United States. The character of the

national representatives on both sides in London tended, moreover, to

aggravate the growing irritation between the two countries. Lord Palmerston

was sharp and domineering, and Mr. Stevenson, our minister, was by no means

mild or conciliatory. Between them they did what they could to render

accommodation impossible.

To evolve a satisfactory and permanent peace from these conditions was the

task which confronted Mr. Webster, and he was hardly in office before he

received a demand from Mr. Fox for the release of McLeod, in which full

avowal was made that the burning of the Caroline was a public act. Mr.

Webster determined that the proper method of settling the boundary

question, when that subject should be reached, was to agree upon a

conventional and arbitrary line, and that in the mean time the only way to

dispose of McLeod was to get him out of prison, separate him,

diplomatically speaking, from the affair of the Caroline, and then take

that up as a distinct matter for negotiation with the British government.

The difficulty in regard to McLeod was the most pressing, and so to that he

gave his immediate attention. His first step was to instruct the

Attorney-General to proceed to Lockport, where McLeod was imprisoned, and

communicate with the counsel for the defence, furnishing them with

authentic information that the destruction of the Caroline was a public

act, and that therefore McLeod could not be held responsible. He then

replied to the British minister that McLeod could, of course, be released

only by judicial process, but he also informed Mr. Fox of the steps which

had been taken by the administration to assure the prisoner a complete

defence based on the avowal of the British government that the attack on

the Caroline was a public act. This threw the responsibility for McLeod,

and for consequent peace or war, where it belonged, on the New York

authorities, who seemed, however, but little inclined to assist the general

government. McLeod came before the Supreme Court of New York in July, on a

writ of _habeas corpus_, but they refused to release him on the grounds set

forth in Mr. Webster's instructions to the Attorney-General, and he was

remanded for trial in October, which was highly embarrassing to our

government, as it kept this dangerous affair open.

But this and all other embarrassments to the Secretary of State sank into

insignificance beside those caused him by the troubles in his own political

party. Between the time of the instructions to the Attorney-General and

that of the letter to Mr. Fox, President Harrison died, after only a month

of office. Mr. Tyler, of whose views but little was known, at once

succeeded, and made no change in the cabinet of his predecessor. On the

last day of May, Congress, called in extra session by President Harrison,

convened. A bill establishing a bank was passed, and Mr. Tyler vetoed it on

account of constitutional objections to some of its features. The

triumphant Whigs were filled with wrath at this unlooked-for check. Mr.

Clay reflected on the President with great severity in the Senate, the

members of the party in the House were very violent in their expressions of

disapproval, and another measure, known as the "Fiscal Corporation Act,"

was at once prepared. Mr. Webster regarded this state of affairs with great

anxiety and alarm. He said that such a contest, if persisted in, would ruin

the party and deprive them of the fruits of their victory, besides

imperilling the important foreign policy then just initiated. He strove to

allay the excitement, and resisted the passage of any new bank measure,

much as he wished the establishment of such an institution, advising

postponement and delay for the sake of procuring harmony if possible. But

the party in Congress would not be quieted. They were determined to force

Mr. Tyler's hand at all hazards, and while the new bill was pending, Mr.

Clay, stung by the taunts of Mr. Buchanan, made a savage attack upon the

President. As a natural consequence, the "Fiscal Corporation" scheme shared

the fate of its predecessor. The breach between the President and his party

was opened irreparably, and four members of the cabinet at once resigned.

Mr. Webster was averse to becoming a party to an obvious combination

between the Senate and the cabinet to harass the President, and he was

determined not to sacrifice the success of his foreign negotiations to a

political quarrel. He therefore resolved to remain in the cabinet for the

present, at least, and, after consulting the Massachusetts delegation in

Congress, who fully approved his course, he announced his decision to the

public in a letter to the "National Intelligencer." His action soon became

the subject of much adverse criticism from the Whigs, but at this day no

one would question that he was entirely right. It was not such an easy

thing to do, however, as it now appears, for the excitement was running

high among the Whigs, and there was great bitterness of feeling toward the

President. Mr. Webster behaved in an independent and patriotic manner,

showing a liberality of spirit, a breadth of view, and a courage of opinion

which entitle him to the greatest credit.

Events, which had seemed thus far to go steadily against him in his

negotiations, and which had been supplemented by the attacks of the

opposition in Congress for his alleged interference with the course of

justice in New York, now began to turn in his favor. The news of the

refusal of the New York court to release McLeod on a _habeas corpus_ had

hardly reached England when the Melbourne ministry was beaten in the House

of Commons, and Sir Robert Peel came in, bringing with him Lord Aberdeen as

the successor of Lord Palmerston in the department of foreign affairs. The

new ministry was disposed to be much more peaceful than their predecessors

had been, and the negotiations at once began to move more smoothly. Great

care was still necessary to prevent outbreaks on the border, but in October

McLeod proved an _alibi_ and was acquitted, and thus the most dangerous

element in our relations with England was removed. Matters were still

further improved by the retirement of Mr. Stevenson, whose successor in

London was Mr. Everett, eminently conciliatory in disposition and in full

sympathy with the Secretary of State.

Mr. Webster was now able to turn his undivided attention to the

long-standing boundary question. His proposition to agree upon a

conventional line had been made known by Mr. Fox to his government, and

soon afterwards Mr. Everett was informed that Lord Ashburton would be sent

to Washington on a special mission. The selection of an envoy well known

for his friendly feeling toward the United States, which was also

traditional with the great banking-house of his family, was in itself a

pledge of conciliation and good will. Lord Ashburton reached Washington in

April, 1842, and the negotiation at once began.

It is impossible and needless to give here a detailed account of that

negotiation. We can only glance briefly at the steps taken by Mr. Webster

and at the results achieved by him. There were many difficulties to be

overcome, and in the winter of 1841-42 the case of the Creole added a fresh

and dangerous complication. The Creole was a slave-ship, on which the

negroes had risen, and, taking possession, had carried her into an English

port in the West Indies, where assistance was refused to the crew, and

where the slaves were allowed to go free. This was an act of very doubtful

legality, it touched both England and the Southern States in a very

sensitive point, and it required all Mr. Webster's tact and judgment to

keep it out of the negotiation until the main issue had been settled.

The principal obstacle in the arrangement of the boundary dispute arose

from the interests and the attitude of Massachusetts and Maine. Mr. Webster

obtained with sufficient ease the appointment of commissioners from the

former State, and, through the agency of Mr. Sparks, who was sent to

Augusta for the purpose, commissioners were also appointed in Maine; but

these last were instructed to adhere to the line of 1783 as claimed by the

United States. Lord Ashburton and Mr. Webster readily agreed that a treaty

must come from mutual conciliation and compromise; but, after a good deal

of correspondence, it became apparent that the Maine commissioners and the

English envoy could not be brought to an agreement. A dead-lock and

consequent loss of the treaty were imminent. Mr. Webster then had a long

interview with Lord Ashburton. By a process of give and take they agreed on

a conventional line and on the concession of certain rights, which made a

fair bargain, but unluckily the loss was suffered by Maine and

Massachusetts, while the benefits received by the United States accrued to

New York, Vermont, and New Hampshire. This brought the negotiators to the

point at which they had already been forced to halt so many times before.

Mr. Webster now cut the knot by proposing that the United States should

indemnify Maine and Massachusetts in money for the loss they were to suffer

in territory, and by his dexterous management the commissioners of the two

States were persuaded to assent to this arrangement, while Lord Ashburton

was induced to admit the agreement into a clause of the treaty. This

disposed of the chief question in dispute, but two other subjects were

included in the treaty besides the boundary. The first related to the

right of search claimed by England for the suppression of the slave-trade.

This was met by what was called the "Cruising Convention," a clause which

stipulated that each nation should keep its own squadron on the coast of

Africa, to enforce separately its own laws against the slave-trade, but in

mutual coöperation. The other subject of agreement grew out of the Creole

case. England supposed that we sought the return of the negroes because

they were slaves, but Mr. Webster argued that they were demanded as

mutineers and murderers. The result was an article which, while it

carefully avoided even the appearance of an attempt to bind England to

return fugitive slaves, provided amply for the extradition of criminals.

The case of the Caroline was disposed of by a formal admission of the

inviolability of national territory and by an apology for the burning of

the steamboat. As to the action in regard to the slaves on the Creole, Mr.

Webster could only obtain the assurance that there should be "no officious

interference with American vessels driven by accident or violence into

British ports," and with this he was content to let the matter drop. On the

subject of impressment, the old _casus belli_ of 1812, Mr. Webster wrote a

forcible letter to Lord Ashburton. In it he said that, in future, "in every

regularly-documented American merchant vessel, the crew who navigate it

will find their protection in the flag which is over them." In other words,

if you take sailors out of our vessels, we shall fight; and this simple

statement of fact ended the whole matter and was quite as binding on

England as any treaty could have been.

Thus the negotiation closed. The only serious objection to its results was

that the interests of Maine were sacrificed perhaps unduly,--as a recent

discussion of that point seems to show. But such a sacrifice was fully

justified by what was achieved. A war was averted, a long standing and

menacing dispute was settled, and a treaty was concluded which was

creditable and honorable to all concerned. By his successful introduction

of the extradition clause, Mr. Webster rendered a great service to

civilization and to the suppression and punishment of crime. Mr. Webster

was greatly aided throughout--both in his arguments, and in the

construction of the treaty itself--by the learned and valuable assistance

freely given by Judge Story. But he conducted the whole negotiation with

great ability and in the spirit of a liberal and enlightened statesman. He

displayed the highest tact and dexterity in reconciling so many clashing

interests, and avoiding so many perilous side issues, until he had brought

the main problem to a solution. In all that he did and said he showed a

dignity and an entire sufficiency, which make this negotiation one of the

most creditable--so far as its conduct was concerned--in which the United

States was ever engaged.

While the negotiation was in progress there was a constant murmur among the

Whigs about Mr. Webster's remaining in the cabinet, and as soon as the

treaty was actually signed a loud clamor began--both among the politicians

and in the newspapers--for his resignation. In the midst of this outcry the

Senate met and ratified the treaty by a vote of thirty-nine to nine,--a

great triumph for its author. But the debate disclosed a vigorous

opposition, Benton and Buchanan both assailing Mr. Webster for neglecting

and sacrificing American, and particularly Southern, interests. At the same

time the controversy which Mr. Webster called "the battle of the maps," and

which was made a great deal of in England, began to show itself. A map of

1783, which Mr. Webster obtained, had been discovered in Paris, sustaining

the English view, while another was afterwards found in London, supporting

the American claim. Neither was of the least consequence, as the new line

was conventional and arbitrary; but the discoveries caused a great deal of

unreasonable excitement. Mr. Webster saw very plainly that the treaty was

not yet secure. It was exposed to attacks both at home and abroad, and had

still to pass Parliament. Until it was entirely safe, Mr. Webster

determined to remain at his post. The clamor continued about his

resignation, and rose round him at his home in Marshfield, whither he had

gone for rest. At the same time the Whig convention of Massachusetts

declared formally a complete separation from the President. In the language

of to-day, they "read Mr. Tyler out of the party." There was a variety of

motives for this action. One was to force Mr. Webster out of the cabinet,

another to advance the fortunes of Mr. Clay, in favor of whose presidential

candidacy movements had begun in Massachusetts, even among Mr. Webster's

personal friends, as well as elsewhere. Mr. Webster had just declined a

public dinner, but he now decided to meet his friends in Faneuil Hall. An

immense audience gathered to hear him, many of them strongly disapproving

his course, but after he had spoken a few moments, he had them completely

under control. He reviewed the negotiation; he discussed fully the

differences in the party; he deplored, and he did not hesitate strongly to

condemn these quarrels, because by them the fruits of victory were lost,

and Whig policy abandoned. With boldness and dignity he denied the right of

the convention to declare a separation from the President, and the implied

attempt to coerce himself and others. "I am, gentlemen, a little hard to

coax," he said, "but as to being driven, that is out of the question. If I

choose to remain in the President's councils, do these gentlemen mean to

say that I cease to be a Massachusetts Whig? I am quite ready to put that

question to the people of Massachusetts." He was well aware that he was

losing party strength by his action; he knew that behind all these

resolutions was the intention to raise his great rival to the presidency;

but he did not shrink from avowing his independence and his intention of

doing what he believed to be right, and what posterity admits to have been

so. Mr. Webster never appeared to better advantage, and he never made a

more manly speech than on this occasion, when, without any bravado, he

quietly set the influence and the threats of his party at defiance.

He was not mistaken in thinking that the treaty was not yet in smooth

water. It was again attacked in the Senate, and it had a still more severe

ordeal to go through in Parliament. The opposition, headed by Lord

Palmerston, assailed the treaty and Lord Ashburton himself, with the

greatest virulence, denouncing the one as a capitulation, and the other as

a grossly unfit appointment. Moreover, the language of the President's

message led England to believe that we claimed that the right of search had

been abandoned. After much correspondence, this misunderstanding drew forth

an able letter from Mr. Webster, stating that the right of search had not

been included in the treaty, but that the "cruising convention" had

rendered the question unimportant. Finally, all complications were

dispersed, and the treaty ratified; and then came an attack from an

unexpected quarter. General Cass--our minister at Paris--undertook to

protest against the treaty, denounce it, and leave his post on account of

it. This wholly gratuitous assault led to a public correspondence, in which

General Cass, on his own confession, was completely overthrown and broken

down by the Secretary of State. This was the last difficulty, and the work

was finally accepted and complete.

During this important and absorbing negotiation, other matters of less

moment, but still of considerable consequence, had been met by Mr. Webster,

and successfully disposed of. He made a treaty with Portugal, respecting

duties on wines; he carried on a long correspondence with our minister to

Mexico in relation to certain American prisoners; he vindicated the course

of the United States in regard to the independence of Texas, teaching M. de

Bocanegra, the Mexican Secretary of State, a lesson as to the duties of

neutrality, and administering a severe reproof to that gentleman for

imputing bad faith to the United States; he conducted the correspondence,

and directed the policy of the government in regard to the troubles in

Rhode Island; he made an effort to settle the Oregon boundary; and,

finally, he set on foot the Chinese mission, which, after being offered to

Mr. Everett, was accepted by Mr. Cushing with the best results. But his

real work came to an end with the correspondence with General Cass at the

close of 1842, and in May of the following year he resigned the

secretaryship. In the two years during which he had been at the head of the

cabinet, he had done much. His work added to his fame by the ability which

it exhibited in a new field, and has stood the test of time. In a period of

difficulty, and even danger, he proved himself singularly well adapted for

the conduct of foreign affairs,--a department which is most peculiarly and

traditionally the employment and test of a highly-trained statesman. It may

be fairly said that no one, with the exception of John Quincy Adams, has

ever shown higher qualities, or attained greater success in the

administration of the State Department, than Mr. Webster did while in Mr.

Tyler's cabinet.

On his resignation, he returned at once to private life, and passed the

next summer on his farm at Marshfield,--now grown into a large

estate,--which was a source of constant interest and delight, and where he

was able to have beneath his eyes his beloved sea. His private affairs were

in disorder, and required his immediate attention. He threw himself into

his profession, and his practice at once became active, lucrative, and

absorbing. To this period of retirement belong the second Bunker Hill

oration and the Girard argument, which made so much noise in its day. He

kept himself aloof from politics, but could not wholly withdraw from them.

The feeling against him, on account of his continuance in the cabinet, had

subsided, and there was a feeble and somewhat fitful movement to drop Clay,

and present Mr. Webster as a candidate for the presidency. Mr. Webster,

however, made a speech at Andover, defending his course and advocating Whig

principles, and declared that he was not a candidate for office. He also

refused to allow New Hampshire to mar party harmony by bringing his name

forward. When Mr. Clay was nominated, in May, 1844, Mr. Webster, who had

beheld with anxiety the rise of the Liberty party and prophesied the

annexation of Texas, decided, although he was dissatisfied with the silence

of the Whigs on this subject, to sustain their candidate. This was

undoubtedly the wisest course; and, having once enlisted, he gave Mr. Clay

a hearty and vigorous support, making a series of powerful speeches,

chiefly on the tariff, and second in variety and ability only to those

which he had delivered in the Harrison campaign. Mr. Clay was defeated

largely by the action of the Liberty party, and the silence of the Whigs

about Texas and slavery cost them the election. At the beginning of the

year Mr. Webster had declined a reëlection to the Senate, but it was

impossible for him to remain out of politics, and the pressure to return

soon became too strong to be resisted. When Mr. Choate resigned in the

winter of 1844-45, Mr. Webster was reëlected senator, from Massachusetts.

On the first of March the intrigue, to perfect which Mr. Calhoun had

accepted the State Department, culminated, and the resolutions for the

annexation of Texas passed both branches of Congress. Four days later Mr.

Polk's administration, pledged to the support and continuance of the

annexation policy, was in power, and Mr. Webster had taken his seat in the

Senate for his last term.

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