The new Government fell heir to all
the unsettled diplomatic problems of the Confederation.
The political destiny of the thirteen States seemed
fixed when they ratified the Constitution; the fate
of the Western communities beyond the Alleghanies
still hung in the balance. In Kentucky, General
Wilkinson still intrigued in behalf of Spain.
Sevier and Robertson, in Tennessee, were not averse
to separation from the Eastern States nor to a Spanish
protectorate. From New Orleans, Mobile, St. Marks,
and Pensacola, the Spanish authorities supplied the
Indians of the Southwest with arms and ammunition,
counting on these uncertain allies to maintain their
long frontier, for Spain still claimed Florida with
its most northern boundary and refused to accept the
validity of the British cession of 1783. More
than this: Spain was disposed to claim both sides
of the Mississippi, at least as far north as the Ohio.
In the Northwest, British garrisons
still held Michilimackinac, Detroit, Niagara, Oswego,
and other posts. The policy of Great Britain was
dictated by much the same considerations as was that
of Spain. Lord Dorchester, Governor of Canada,
assured the home Government that “the flimsy
texture of republican government” could not long
hold the Western settlements in the Union. In
1789, the Lords of Trade reported that it was a matter
of interest for Great Britain “to prevent Vermont
and Kentucke, and all other settlements now forming
in the Interior parts of the great Continent of North
America, from becoming dependent upon the Government
of the United States, or of any other Foreign Country,
and to preserve them on the contrary in a State of
Independence and to induce them to form Treaties of
Commerce and Friendship with Great Britain.”
President Washington had hardly taken
the oath of office when a war cloud appeared on the
western horizon. Certain British vessels, bound
for Nootka Sound to establish a trading-post, were
seized by Spanish authorities in a way which provoked
bitter resentment. In the early months of 1790,
war seemed imminent. The situation was full of
peril for the United States, for war would inevitably
bring about military operations directed against Florida
and Louisiana, and neither party was likely to respect
the neutrality of the United States. The prospect
of a conquest of the Spanish colonies by Great Britain
alarmed the Administration. “Embraced from
the St. Croix to the St. Mary’s on the one side
by their possessions, on the other side by their fleet,”
wrote Jefferson, “we need not hesitate to say
that they would soon find means to unite to them all
the territory covered by the ramifications of the
Mississippi.” Representations were therefore
made to the British Government that “a due balance
on our borders is not less desirable to us than a
balance of power in Europe has always appeared to them.”
Fortunately the war cloud vanished
as rapidly as it had formed. In the fall of 1790,
Spain and England entered into a convention which averted
hostilities. Yet the situation on both flanks
of our long frontier was full of peril. Spain
intrigued with the Creeks of the Southwest, while
the British authorities in Canada encouraged the Indians
north of the Ohio in their hostility to the white
settlers. The attitude of the Indians along the
Maumee and Wabash Rivers was so menacing that Governor
St. Clair sent a punitive expedition against them;
but the effect upon the Indians was so slight that
a second expedition was set on foot in the following
year. With a force of fourteen hundred raw recruits,
unused to Indian warfare, St. Clair marched into the
heart of the Indian country and suffered an inglorious
defeat, on November 4, 1791. More than half of
his command were killed, and scarcely a man escaped
unscathed. It was a most humiliating reverse for
the new Government, occurring almost under the eyes
of British garrisons, and just as opposition was coming
to a head in Congress.
While two European powers were thus
poised like vultures awaiting the demise of the new
republic, a third darkened the sky. France deemed
the moment auspicious for an attack upon the colonial
possessions of her late ally, the King of Spain.
The South American revolutionist, Miranda, had persuaded
the French Ministry, as he had before persuaded Pitt,
that the Spanish colonial empire was tottering and
would readily fall with its rich spoil at the first
resolute attack. The French Ministers were dazzled
by the prospect of reviving a colonial empire in the
new world. It seemed well within the range of
possibilities to reduce Louisiana, and from the mouth
of the Mississippi to begin the conquest of Spanish
Central and Southern America. With this purpose
in view, the Government sent as Minister to the United
States, Citizen Genet, an ardent apostle of the Revolution.
He was instructed to secure a treaty with the United
States-“a true family compact”-which
“would conduce rapidly to freeing Spanish America,
to opening the navigation of the Mississippi to the
inhabitants of Kentucky, to delivering our ancient
brothers of Louisiana from the tyrannical yoke of
Spain, and perhaps to uniting the fair star of Canada
to the American constellation.” But without
waiting for the cooperation of the United States,
Genet was to arouse the people of Kentucky and Louisiana
by sending among them agents who should light the
fires of revolution.
The first news of the revolution in
France had kindled the warmest sympathy in the United
States. Emotional individuals thought they saw
the events of our own revolution mirrored in the stirring
drama in France. The spectacle of the new republic
confronting the allied monarchs of Europe thrilled
those who had battled with the hirelings of George
the Third. Civic feasts became the fashion; liberty
caps and French cockades were donned; “the social
and soul-warming term Citizen” was adopted by
the more demonstrative. But there were those who
did not sing “Ca Ira” and who
foresaw the peril of a general European war.
Early in April, 1793, a British packet
brought the news to New York that Louis XVI had been
guillotined and that France was at war with England
and Spain. The ominous tidings brought President
Washington post-haste from Mount Vernon to Philadelphia.
Summoning his advisers, he put before them the perplexing
questions which had arisen in his mind. Neutrality
was obviously the policy which national self-interest
dictated; but neutrality seemed hardly compatible
with our treaty obligations to France. In the
treaties of 1778, the United States had expressly
guaranteed French possessions in America and had opened
its ports to French privateers and their prizes, denying
the privilege to her enemies. Hamilton argued
rather fallaciously that these treaties were made
by the King of France and were binding upon his successors
alone; they were not in force after the Revolutionary
Government had destroyed the monarchy. Furthermore,
the guaranty did not apply to an offensive war such
as that which France was now waging. Jefferson
and Randolph took issue with Hamilton on these points;
but all agreed that neutrality must be preserved.
On April 22, the President issued a proclamation,
which, avoiding the word “neutrality,”
declared that the United States was at peace with
both France and Great Britain, and warned all citizens
to avoid all acts of hostility.
The proclamation was well-timed, for
Genet had already landed at Charleston and had begun
his extraordinary career as revolutionary agent of
the Gironde. He found the ground well watered
for the seeds of revolution. In Georgia and South
Carolina, the frontiersmen were smarting under the
repeated depredations of the Cherokees and Creeks and
eager to put an end to Spanish ascendancy in that quarter.
Under these circumstances it was no difficult matter
to arrange for expeditions against St. Augustine from
the Georgia frontier, and against New Orleans from
South Carolina by way of the Tennessee River and the
Mississippi. Assuming that the United States
was already enlisted in the cause by the treaties
of 1778, Genet sent out orders to French consuls, bidding
them set up courts of admiralty for the trial of prize
cases, and even dispatched privateers from the port
of Charleston to prey upon British vessels. Before
Genet could reach Philadelphia, the French frigate
L’Ambuscade had captured the Little Sarah in
lower Delaware Bay, and had anchored with her prize
in the river opposite the city.
From Charleston, Genet made a triumphal
progress to Philadelphia, receiving on all sides demonstrations
which convinced him that the heart of the nation beat
in unison with that of France. He was therefore
much disconcerted and angered by the studied reserve
of the President, to whom he presented his credentials
in Philadelphia. What a contrast between the
liberty-loving populace and this haughty aristocrat
who kept medallions of Capet and his family upon his
parlor walls! At a banquet in Oeller’s
Tavern, however, Genet received the sort of demonstrations
which his French heart craved. There, amid poetic
declamations and many libations to the Goddess of
Liberty, he and his hosts donned the crimson cap of
liberty and sang with infinite zest the new “Marseillaise.”
Even a well-balanced mind might have become convinced
that the Administration and the people were out of
accord.
On the threshold of his career at
Philadelphia, Genet demanded an advance payment on
the debt which the United States owed to France.
The refusal of the Administration to supply him with
funds embittered him still further. He now took
up with vigor his revolutionary projects in the West.
The proposal of George Rogers Clark to raise a force
and take all Louisiana for France reached him at this
time and fitted in well with his general mission.
Clark was given a commission as “Major General
of the Independent and Revolutionary Legion of the
Mississippi,” and was promised the cooperation
of frigates in his attack upon New Orleans. For
this purpose Genet made haste to transform the Little
Sarah into a privateer, under the very eyes of the
Government. He was warned that he must not allow
La Petite Démocrate, as the vessel was
rechristened, to put to sea. Nevertheless, in
defiance of the state and federal authorities, the
ship dropped down the bay and eventually put out to
sea.
Up to this moment Genet’s popularity
was immense. Very probably this popular devotion
to the cause of France was inspired in part by the
factious opposition which was irritating the Administration
on purely domestic issues. Nevertheless, Liberty,
Equality, and the Rights of Man were phrases which
appealed cogently to the democratic masses in the
States. In imitation of the Jacobin Club, Democratic
societies sprang up in all the considerable centers
of population from Boston to Charleston. In these
organizations the voice of the disfranchised classes
was articulate for the first time. With unprecedented
virulence these Democrats attacked not only policies
but personalities. Washington was libeled in
such scurrilous fashion that even his composure broke
down on one occasion, so Jefferson records; and he
declared in a passion that by God! he had rather be
in his grave than in his present situation.
After the Little Democrat episode,
however, popular sentiment began to grow cold toward
Genet. His plans failed to carry; and he was reported
to have exclaimed in a moment of irritation that he
would appeal from the President to the people.
This was the last straw. All but his most radical
followers deserted him. The Administration now
determined to demand his recall. But events in
France had already terminated Genet’s career.
The Girondist party had fallen and the triumphant Jacobins
had no use for an agent who had served the discredited
faction. In February, 1794, Genet was replaced
by Fauchet and his revolutionary mission ended
with his official duties.
From the moment when France declared
war upon Great Britain to the exile of Napoleon two
decades later, the United States as a neutral nation
was incessantly menaced by the aggressions of one
or the other of the belligerents. A faithful
picture of American politics must set the stirring
events of this epoch against the forbidding background
of European intrigue and war. In this struggle
the supremacy of the seas fell to Great Britain.
However victorious on European battlefields, French
armies were powerless to defend the colonial possessions
in the West Indies. Cut off from France the colonies
could only maintain themselves by direct trade with
neutrals like the United States. But by the so-called
rule of 1756, neutral commerce was forbidden under
these conditions. Ports closed to neutral commerce
in time of peace might not be thrown open in time
of war. Flinging consistency to the winds, the
French Convention decreed in February, 1793, that neutral
states might trade with her colonies on the same terms
as French vessels. That Great Britain would refuse
to sanction this trade was fully expected. It
was inevitable that Great Britain would treat neutrals
who accepted the French invitation as having forfeited
their neutrality.
With little or no thought of probable
consequences, fleets of merchantmen set sail from
Boston, Philadelphia, and other ports in the spring
of the year, with cargoes of fish and grain to barter
for sugar, coffee, and rum at Martinique, Antigua,
and St. Kitts. The traffic promised to be most
lucrative. But disaster overtook many a gallant
vessel before she could reach her destination.
In June, British orders in council instructed English
cruisers to detain all vessels bound for a French
port with corn, flour, and meal, and to purchase such
supplies as were needed. Such vessels were then
to be allowed to proceed to any port of a state with
which His Majesty was living in amity. The skipper
who had anything worth taking to a foreign port after
an experience of this sort was lucky indeed.
In November orders were issued for the seizure of
all vessels laden with French colonial products or
carrying provisions to any French colony.
Tales of outrages perpetrated under
the British orders in council soon began to reach
the home ports of the West India merchantmen.
Doubtless these tales lost nothing in the telling,
but the unimpeachable fact remains that scores of
American ships were seized and libeled in admiralty
courts set up in the British West Indies. Nor
did the British naval officers hesitate to impress
seamen who were suspected of being British subjects.
Republican opponents of the Administration, who had
felt the proclamation of neutrality as a rebuff to
our old ally, France, were now confirmed in their
hostility to Great Britain. To their minds ample
cause for war existed.
The policy which Jefferson and Madison
would have forced upon the Administration was one
of retaliation. In a report to Congress Jefferson
proposed that whenever our commerce was laid under
restrictions by a foreign nation, similar restrictions
should be put upon the trade of the offending state.
By pacific coercion, the United States would oblige
foreign states to make favorable commercial treaties.
Madison urged this policy upon Congress in a series
of resolutions; but the supporters of the Administration
pointed out that retaliatory measures would sacrifice
the trade with Great Britain, which furnished seven
eighths of the total imports into the country.
It was plain that the mercantile classes which upheld
the Administration did not desire either war or retaliatory
legislation, however much they might be suffering from
British depredations. The resources of diplomacy
were not yet exhausted. Might not a treaty be
secured which would open up the British West India
trade?
Upon the news of the offensive orders
in council of November, which reached Philadelphia
in the following March, public feeling veered strongly
toward war. At the same time with tales of new
outrages at sea came a not very well authenticated
but commonly accepted report of Lord Dorchester’s
speech to the Indians of the Northwest, in which he
assured his dusky hearers that war was imminent between
his country and the United States. Congress now
began to prepare for the inevitable. Appropriations
were made for the fortification of harbors and the
collection of military stores. The depredations
of the Algerine pirates in the Mediterranean gave
excuse for the building of six frigates. An embargo
was laid upon commerce for thirty days and then extended
over another thirty days. Dayton, of New Jersey,
alarmed the administration party by proposing the
sequestration of all British debts as an indemnity
for the vessels which had been seized by British cruisers.
A rift now appeared in the war cloud.
Early in April, Washington received intelligence of
a new order in council dated January 8, 1794, which
only forbade trade between the French colonies and
Europe, leaving American vessels to trade freely with
the French West Indies. Washington seized the
opportune moment to test the resources of diplomacy.
On April 16, he sent to the Senate the nomination
of Chief Justice John Jay as Envoy Extraordinary to
the Court of St. James. Three days later the
nomination was confirmed, and by the middle of May,
Jay was on his way to England upon the most difficult
mission of his diplomatic career.
While Jay was pressing American grievances
upon Lord Grenville, not the least of which was the
retention of the Western posts by British garrisons,
events occurred near one of the unsurrendered posts
which might easily have brought on war. The humiliating
defeat of St. Clair in 1791 had left the settlers
beyond the Ohio at the mercy of the Indians.
British authorities in Canada encouraged the Indians
to believe that by combination they could check the
advance of the whites. An Indian territory under
British protection would have served the purposes
of Great Britain admirably. To forestall these
designs President Washington appointed to command
in the Northwest Anthony Wayne-“Mad
Anthony” of Revolutionary days. With a caution
and thoroughness which belied his reputation, Wayne
spent nearly two years in recruiting and drilling
an army. Every effort in the mean time to conciliate
the Indians was made futile by the machinations of
their British advisers. By the spring of 1794,
Wayne had an army sufficiently trustworthy to undertake
a forward movement. His route lay down the Maumee
River, at the rapids of which Lieutenant-Governor
Simcoe had built a fort and stationed a small garrison,
in anticipation of an American attack upon Detroit,
which was supposed to be Wayne’s objective.
At a place known as Fallen Timber, a few miles south
of the rapids, on August 18, Wayne found the Indians
ready to offer battle. They had chosen their ground
with considerable skill, but Wayne employed his cavalry
and infantry so effectively that he drove the redskins
from cover and pursued them with great slaughter almost
to the walls of the British fort. The British
commander demanded an explanation. Wayne replied
with a taunt which amounted to a challenge and which
was probably intended to be such; but the British
refused to be drawn into hostilities. Had Wayne
attacked and dispersed the British garrison, he would
hardly stand condemned at the bar of history, for
by the Treaty of Paris not he, but the British commander,
was the intruder on foreign soil. Nevertheless,
war at this time would have made Jay’s mission
futile and might have sacrificed the whole Mississippi
Valley.
The Administration had hardly time
to applaud Wayne’s victory when it was greatly
perturbed by an insurrectionary movement in western
Pennsylvania. The sturdy Scotch-Irish people of
the southwestern counties beyond the mountains had
always felt their aloofness from the eastern counties.
They were now still further disaffected because of
the federal tax on spirituous liquors. They shared
the feeling of the Continental Congress, which in
1774 had declared an excise “the horror of all
free states.” Even before the incidence
of the tax was fully felt, protests were drafted at
mass-meetings and federal collectors were roughly
treated. The tax fell with heavy weight upon the
small farmer. Whiskey was not merely his chief
marketable commodity: it was also his medium
of exchange when money was scarce. A tax on his
still seemed to be an unfair discrimination.
Such was the pitch of public feeling in the year 1793
that farmers who complied with the law had their stills
wrecked by masked men, popularly known as “Whiskey
Boys.”
Early in July, 1794, the marshal of
the district court of Philadelphia attempted to serve
writs against distillers in the western counties who
were charged with breaking the law. He chose his
time unwisely, for the farmers were in the midst of
harvesting, and liquor was circulating freely among
the laborers. In serving his last writ, he was
threatened by a number of reapers. This was the
spark needed to start a conflagration. On the
next morning the house of a revenue inspector, Neville,
was attacked and blood was shed. A small detachment
of soldiers from Fort Pitt was stationed at the house;
but on the following day they were fired upon and
forced to surrender, and the house of the inspector
was burned. The marshal and the inspector fled
the country. Matters went from bad to worse.
The mail was robbed; the militia was summoned to meet
at Braddock’s Field for the avowed purpose of
attacking the garrison at Fort Pitt; but there the
courage of the leaders evaporated. The attack
upon the garrison was commuted into a boisterous march
through the streets of Pittsburg, whose citizens purchased
immunity by liberal donations of whiskey to the thirsty
rioters.
On August 7, 1794, the President issued
a proclamation commanding the insurgents to disperse,
and summoned twelve thousand militia from the adjoining
States to hold themselves in readiness for active service
on the 1st of September. Meanwhile, earnestly
desiring to avoid the use of force, Washington sent
three commissioners to the scene of the riots in the
hope of appealing to the sober sense of the people.
They held protracted negotiations with representatives
of the people in the disaffected district, but were
unable to persuade them to deliver up the ringleaders
of the revolt. On September 24, the President
issued a second proclamation and set the troops in
motion. Under the command of “Light Horse
Harry” Lee, now Governor of Virginia, the army
marched west in two divisions, but encountered no
resistance. Many arrests were made and eighteen
alleged leaders of the insurrection were sent to Philadelphia
for trial. Only two of these, however, were convicted
of treasonable conduct, and they were pardoned by
the President. Some twenty-five hundred troops
were quartered near Pittsburg for the winter; but
rebellion did not again lift its head.
The utter collapse of the Whiskey
Rebellion made the whole affair seem ridiculous to
those who gathered in the coffee-houses to hear the
tales of the militiamen but the importance of the
episode was not slight. Hamilton is said to have
remarked on one occasion that a government can never
be said to be established “until some signal
display of force has manifested its power of military
coercion.” The Federal Government had now
demonstrated that it was equal to the emergency whenever
the laws were opposed by combinations too powerful
to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial
proceedings or by the powers vested in the marshals
by law. The days of Shays’ Rebellion had
gone, never to return.
There was an aspect of the insurrection
which Washington did not fail to note in his annual
address to Congress in November, 1794. The Democratic
clubs had been unsparing in their condemnation of the
excise law, and their resolutions had more than once
a treasonable sound. Washington did not hesitate
to deprecate the untoward influence of these “self-created
societies” and to condemn those “combinations
of men, who, careless of consequences, and disregarding
the unerring truth that those who rouse cannot always
appease a civil convulsion, have disseminated, from
an ignorance or perversion of facts, suspicions, jealousies,
and accusations of the whole Government.”
The Democratic societies now fell into disrepute and
did not long survive their great prototype, the Jacobin
Club of Paris.
Although Jay had presented his credentials
in June, 1794, it was the 19th of November before
a treaty was signed; and it was not until the 8th
of June, 1795, that Washington could send an authentic
copy to the Senate. The most dispassionate member
of that body must have confessed privately to a sense
of disappointment as he heard the terms for the first
time. Listening intently for the redress of grievances,
he seemed to hear only concessions. The United
States was to assume the debts still unpaid to British
merchants since the peace, so far as “lawful
impediments” had been put in the way of their
collection; to open all ports to British ships on
the footing of the most favored nation; and to make
restitution for losses and damages to the property
of British subjects occasioned by French privateers
in American waters, whenever compensation could not
be obtained in the ordinary course of justice.
And for all these concessions what had been gained?
The promise to evacuate the Western posts? That
was but a tardy redemption of an old promise.
No mention was made of the negroes carried away by
British armies during the war. Nothing was said
about the impressment of American seamen. To
be sure, the ports of the East Indies were to be opened
to direct commerce with the United States; but no American
vessel might engage in the coasting trade of these
East India dependencies. As for the West India
trade, only vessels of seventy tons burden might participate,
and even that concession was yielded on the express
understanding that molasses, sugar, coffee, cocoa,
and cotton should not be exported from the United
States to any part of the world. After hearing
this obnoxious twelfth article, few Senators could
preserve a fair mind on the remaining provisions of
the treaty.
The historian is in a better position
to evaluate the treaty. To the cause of international
arbitration, Jay and Grenville made a distinct contribution.
They provided for three commissions which were to settle
the uncertain boundaries of the United States on the
northeast and northwest; to adjudicate the claims
of British creditors; and to adjust the claims of
those citizens of the United States whose ships and
cargoes had been seized in the West India trade, and
on the other hand, the claims of those British subjects
who had suffered losses through French privateers
in American waters. Moreover, an agreement was
reached on what should in future be regarded as contraband,
and on the treatment of vessels which should be captured
on suspicion of carrying enemies’ property or
contraband.
There were two cogent reasons for
ratifying the treaty despite its defects: it
provided for indemnity in respect to recent seizures
on the high seas; and it averted war. But no
arguments could justify the surrender of American
trade in the West Indies, to the minds of either the
New England shipper or the Southern planter, for while
the latter might be indifferent to other considerations,
he would not willingly part with his right to ship
his cotton crop, now becoming every year more valuable.
The requisite two-thirds vote of the Senate was secured
only by dropping out altogether the objectionable twelfth
article.
The publication of the treaty was
followed by an outburst of popular indignation which
made even the President wince. Remonstrances and
protests poured in upon him from every part of the
Union. The sailors and shipowners of Portsmouth
burned Jay and Grenville in effigy, together with
a miniature ship of seventy tons. In Charleston,
the flags were put at half-mast and the public hangman
burned copies of the treaty in the open street.
While remonstrating with a disorderly crowd in Wall
Street which was vilifying Jay, Hamilton was stoned
and forced to give way with the blood streaming down
his face. Personal abuse of the coarsest kind
was heaped upon Washington by the opposition press,
while a host of pamphleteers assailed him under cover
of anonymity. Congress expressed its hostility
toward the President by omitting to congratulate him
on his birthday.
In the face of this denunciation,
Washington might well have hesitated to press the
ratification of the amended treaty upon Great Britain.
His perplexities were further increased by the tidings
that the Ministry had renewed the earlier orders for
the seizure of provisions on neutral vessels bound
for French ports. Hamilton was of the opinion
that the President should insist upon the withdrawal
of this order in council and upon the acceptance of
the Senate amendment before he ratified the treaty.
The delicate task of securing the consent of Great
Britain to these conditions was entrusted to John
Quincy Adams, then Minister at The Hague.
Meanwhile the skies cleared in the
Northwest. Wayne’s punitive expedition
had done its work. With their towns destroyed
and their crops ruined, the Indians had passed a terrible
winter. By the following summer they were ready
to sue for peace. In a great council at Greenville,
on August 4, 1795, they agreed to a treaty which ceded
to the United States all the region south and east
of a line running from the intersection of the Kentucky
and Ohio Rivers to Lake Erie. Only one thing
was needed to secure the Northwest and that was the
evacuation of the British posts.
During this same summer, Thomas Pinckney,
at the Court of Madrid, was trying to secure the liberation
of the Southwest from the control of Spain. On
October 27, 1795, the treaty of San Lorenzo was signed,
which conceded the thirty-first parallel as the northern
boundary of West Florida from the Mississippi to the
Apalachicola. This was in itself a notable achievement;
but even more important to the people of the Western
world was the declaration that the Mississippi River
should be open to their commerce with the right of
deposit at New Orleans.
The mission of Adams at the Court
of St. James was not less successful. The Ministry
agreed to modify the objectionable order in council
and to accept the treaty without the twelfth article.
With a deep sense of relief Washington promulgated
the treaty as the law of the land on February 27,
1795. With these three treaties of 1795, not only
was war averted, but our slender hold upon the vast
tract between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi
immeasurably strengthened, if not secured for all
time.