In January, 1795, Hamilton retired from the Treasury Department. The moment was well chosen, for his great creative work was done and signs were not wanting that the initiative in finance was about to pass to the House of Representatives. As he passed out of office, a young Representative from Pennsylvania made his appearance in Congress who was scarcely his inferior in quick grasp of the intricacies of public finance. Almost the first efforts of Albert Gallatin were directed to the improvement of the methods of congressional finance. It was at his suggestion that the first standing Committee of Ways and Means in the House was appointed, in the expectation that it would assume a general superintendence of finance. Believing that the Executive could be held in check only by systematic, specific appropriations, Gallatin became an insistent advocate of the rule, and in consequence a thorn in the flesh of the departments. “The management of the Treasury,” complained Wolcott to Hamilton, “becomes more and more difficult. The legislature will not pass laws in gross. Their appropriations are minute; Gallatin, to whom they yield, is evidently intending to break down this department, by charging it with an impracticable detail.” “The heads of departments,” Fisher Ames wrote despondently, two years after Hamilton left office, “are chief clerks. Instead of being the ministry, the organs of the executive power, and imparting a kind of momentum to the operation of the laws, they are precluded even from communicating with the House by reports.” There was no room for a British ministry in the Republican scheme of politics.

Meantime, Washington’s foreign policy had widened the breach between the political factions and had forced him into a partisan position. From the Republican point of view, Jay’s treaty threw the United States into the arms of England and gave just cause of offense to France. Knowing the popular temper, which was undoubtedly hostile to the treaty, the Republican leaders endeavored to defeat the purposes of the Administration by refusing to vote the necessary appropriations. Their first demand was for the papers relating to the treaty, on the ground that in matters upon which the action of the House was needed, that body might properly call for information to guide its deliberations. The President refused this demand, both because he deemed it imprudent to make the papers public, and because he denied the right of the House to participate in the treaty-making power.

The debate which followed is one of the most illuminating in the early history of Congress. The trend of argument may be suggested by two remarks of opposing partisans. Said Griswold for the Federalists, “The House of Representatives have nothing to do with the treaty but provide for its execution.” Disclaiming that the House was bent upon impairing the constitutional right of the President and Senate to make treaties, Gallatin contended that the power claimed by the House was “only a negative, a restraining power on those subjects over which Congress has the right to legislate.” In vigorous resolutions the House sustained Gallatin’s position; and the appropriation for the treaty was carried only by the casting vote of the Speaker, on April 29, two months after Washington by proclamation had declared the treaty to be the law of the land.

The consequences of the rapprochement between the United States and Great Britain were far-reaching. The French Minister, Fauchet, urged his Government to take immediate steps to acquire a continental colony which would not only serve France and her West India colonies as a granary and as a market for their exports, but which would also bring pressure to bear upon the disaffected border communities of the United States. Such a colony was Louisiana. With this province in her possession, a power like France would speedily control the Mississippi and the Western people who used that highway for their commerce. Throughout the year 1795, the French Government sought by persuasion and threats to secure Louisiana from Spain as the price of an alliance.

How far the Administration was apprised of these designs is not clear; but against the background of French intrigue certain passages of Washington’s Farewell Address take on a new significance. The West was warned that it could control “the indispensable outlets for its own productions” only by attaching itself firmly to “the Atlantic side of the Union.” “Any other tenure ... whether derived from its own separate strength, or from an apostate and unnatural connection with any foreign power, must be intrinsically precarious.” And the admission of Tennessee as a State in the year 1796 may have been hastened by an ill-defined fear that the people of the West might not be proof against French machinations.

The purpose of Washington not to accept a re-election was known to his intimates early in the spring of 1796. Upon whom would his mantle fall? There was much searching of hearts among Federalist leaders, but by the end of the summer it was well understood that Federalist electors would support John Adams and Thomas Pinckney for the Presidency and Vice-Presidency. The most talented man in the party was unquestionably Alexander Hamilton; but Hamilton had made too many enemies to be a popular candidate. By common consent, Thomas Jefferson became the candidate of the Republicans for President; with him was associated Aaron Burr, of New York.

The most remarkable aspect of the campaign of 1796 was the undisguised attempt of Adet, who had succeeded Fauchet, to turn the election in Jefferson’s favor. The treaty with England could not be undone; but France had much to hope from a Republican administration. In a series of letters directed to the Secretary of State, but printed in the Philadelphia Aurora, Adet announced that the Directory regarded the treaty of commerce concluded with Great Britain as “a violation of the treaty made with France in 1778, and equivalent to a treaty of alliance with Great Britain.” “Justly offended,” the Directory had ordered him to “suspend his ministerial functions with the Federal Government.” This action, however, was not to be regarded as a rupture between the two peoples, but only “as a mark of just discontent, which is to last until the Government of the United States returns to sentiments and to measures, more conformable to the interests of the alliance, and the sworn friendship between the two nations.”

Adet would have had the people believe that the alternatives were Jefferson or war; and the threat of war, so it was said, was enough to drive the peace-loving Quakers of Pennsylvania into the Republican ranks. In more northerly States Adet’s manifesto probably had the opposite effect. “There is not one elector east of the Delaware River,” declared the Connecticut Courant, “who would not sooner be shot than vote for Thomas Jefferson.” Not a Republican elector was chosen in the States to the north and east of Pennsylvania. On the other hand, Adams received only two electoral votes south of the Potomac. South Carolina divided its vote between Jefferson and Pinckney. Only unexpected votes in Virginia and North Carolina gave Adams the election, for Pennsylvania was carried by the Republicans. Pinckney lost the Vice-Presidency through the defection of Federalists in New England.

An incident of the election in Pennsylvania revealed the change already wrought by parties in the Constitution. The framers of the Constitution expected that a small number of persons selected by their fellow citizens from the general mass would deliberately weigh “all the reasons and inducements which were proper to govern their choice,” and in their mature wisdom choose the individual who met the requirements of the office. It fell out otherwise. In Pennsylvania, one of the six States to choose electors by popular vote, each party had put forward a ticket with fifteen names. Thirteen of the fifteen Republican electors were chosen. Of the two Federalist electors who were chosen, one broke faith with his party and cast his vote for Jefferson and Pinckney. The Federalists were exasperated by this treachery. “What!” expostulated a writer in the United States Gazette: “Do I chuse Samuel Miles to determine for me whether John Adams or Thomas Jefferson shall be President? No! I chuse him to act, not to think.”

While Adet was endeavoring to bring what the Federalists called the French party into power, the Administration was urging the reluctant Monroe at Paris to make the Jay Treaty as palatable as possible to the French Government. This was an irksome task for that ardent Republican. From the outset of his mission he found it difficult to sustain that detachment from French politics which his position demanded. Moreover, after having assured the French Government that Jay was negotiating at London only for the redress of grievances and not for a commercial treaty, Monroe found it peculiarly humiliating to be obliged to confess that he had been kept in ignorance of the real trend of negotiations. Under these circumstances, he temporized and gave only half-hearted attention to the task of placating the Directory. Hamilton now advised his recall; and Washington, who had on two occasions expressed his displeasure with Monroe’s conduct, determined to send Charles Cotesworth Pinckney in his stead.

Trivial as this incident seems, it was not without its effect upon the course of diplomacy abroad and of politics at home. When Monroe endeavored to put his successor into touch with the French Foreign Office, he was told that the Directory was not prepared to receive another American representative until their grievances had been redressed. This affront left Pinckney in an embarrassing position, for until his credentials were accepted, he was liable, like all foreigners at that time, to arrest as a spy. It was not until February, after many months of waiting, that he was given his passport. He at once crossed the border and took up his residence at Amsterdam.

Meantime, Monroe had taken his departure with the warmest expressions of regard on the part of the French Government. He was assured that his worth and his efforts in behalf of his country’s interests were understood and appreciated. He returned to the United States with the firm conviction, which his Republican friends shared, that he had been made the victim of Federalist chicanery. In the following year he published an elaborate defense which served admirably as a popular campaign document in the next presidential elections.

It fell to John Adams on the very threshold of his administration to deal with what he euphemistically called the misunderstanding with France. His inaugural address announced unmistakably his intention to preserve neutrality between the belligerents of Europe, and to treat France with impartiality but with a sincere desire for her friendship. Between the lines may be read also an equally sincere desire to placate the opposition and to free himself from all imputation of a bias toward Great Britain and a monarchical system. From the first news of Pinckney’s dismissal, President Adams was disposed “to institute a fresh attempt at negotiation”: he even approached Jefferson to see if he would not persuade Madison to serve on a special commission, believing that Madison’s well-known Gallic sympathies would commend him to the French nation. At the same time he declared stoutly in a message to Congress, in special session on May 15, that France had treated the United States “neither as allies nor as friends nor as a sovereign state.” Attempts which had been made to create a rupture between the people of the United States and their Government “ought to be repelled with a decision which shall convince France and the world that we are not a degraded people humiliated under a colonial spirit of fear and sense of inferiority.” While he therefore recommended measures of defense, he asked the Senate to confirm the appointment of three commissioners whom he proposed to send to France. Two of these, Pinckney and John Marshall, were Federalists, but the third was Elbridge Gerry, a Massachusetts Republican, who was the second choice of the President, Dana having declined to serve.

While Congress was acting upon the President’s recommendations and voting appropriations for fortifications and for the completion of the three frigates which were then on the stocks, disquieting disclosures came from the West. Spain having declared war upon England in the previous fall, British emissaries, it was rumored, were concerting plans for the conquest of New Orleans and West Florida. While expeditions made up of Western frontiersmen and Indians descended upon the Spanish strongholds in the Southwest, a British fleet was to blockade the mouth of the Mississippi. The evidence which President Adams laid before Congress in July implicated Senator Blount, of Tennessee. In common with other land speculators, he had become alarmed at the rumor that France was about to acquire Louisiana, and had agreed to use his influence among the whites and Indians of the Southwest, where he had formerly been governor, to assist the designs of Great Britain. He was expelled from the Senate and impeached. Before his trial could take place, he was elected a member of the legislature of Tennessee, and from that point of vantage he successfully defied the federal authorities.

The episode had unfortunate consequences: it aroused the distrust of the Spanish Government and delayed the surrender of Natchez and other posts which Spain had agreed to cede in the Treaty of 1795; and it furnished Talleyrand, who had become Minister of Foreign Affairs under the Directory, with an additional argument for the cession of Louisiana to France. France in control of Louisiana and Florida would be “a wall of brass forever impenetrable to the combined efforts of England and America.”

Early in March, 1797, dispatches arrived from the envoys which were full of sinister disclosures. On the 19th, President Adams announced gloomily that he perceived “no ground of expectation” that the objects of the mission could be accomplished “on terms compatible with the safety, honor, or the essential interests of the nation.” He renewed his recommendations of measures of defense “proportioned to the danger.” The average Republican regarded this message as tantamount to a declaration of war. Jefferson spoke of it as “an insane message.” The partisan press held it to be further proof of British bias in John Adams, the old aristocrat! But when the President sent to Congress the deciphered dispatches, and the newspapers had printed extracts from them, a wave of indignation swept over the country. For the moment the wildest partisan of France was silenced.

The envoys told a sordid tale of French intrigue and greed. It appeared that they had never been received officially when they made known their presence on French soil, but had been approached by agents of Talleyrand, whom they referred to in the dispatches as Mr. X, Mr. Y, and Mr. Z. They were much mystified by the language used by these gentlemen, until the evening of October 18, when Mr. X called on General Pinckney and whispered that he had a message from Talleyrand. “General Pinckney said he should be glad to hear it. Mr. X replied that the Directory, and particularly two of the members of it, were exceedingly irritated at some passages of the President’s speech, and desired that they should be softened; and that this step would be necessary previous to our reception. That, besides this, a sum of money was required for the pocket of the Directory and Ministers, which would be at the disposal of M. Talleyrand; and that a loan would also be insisted on. Mr. X said if we acceded to these measures, M. Talleyrand had no doubt that all our differences with France might be accommodated. On inquiry, Mr. X could not point out the particular passages of the speech that had given offense, nor the quantum of the loan, but mentioned that the douceur for the pocket was twelve hundred thousand livres, about fifty thousand pounds sterling.”

Unwilling to believe their ears, the astonished envoys asked to have these proposals put in writing. Mr. X not only complied with this request, but brought with him Mr. Y, a confidential friend of Talleyrand, who repeated the terms upon which the envoys would be received, and pointed out convenient means by which the money could be secretly transferred.

The American commissioners responded that while they had ample powers to make a treaty, they had none to make a loan. They offered, however, to send one of their number to America for further instructions, provided that the Directory would check the further capture of American vessels. Nevertheless, the efforts of X and Y to secure the douceur were not relaxed. Finally, finding the envoys either obstinate or obtuse, Mr. X exclaimed, “Gentlemen, you do not speak to the point. It is money; it is expected that you will offer money.” The Americans were inexorable. “What is your answer?” asked X impatiently. “It is,” said the envoys, “no, no; not a sixpence.”

On November 1, the commissioners agreed to hold no more indirect intercourse with the Government, but to prepare a statement of the American grievances against France and to send it to Talleyrand. Two weary months passed before they received his answer. Couched in language which was both contemptuous and insulting, this reply of Talleyrand terminated the mission. The Directory intimated that in future they would treat only with Gerry as “the more impartial” member of the commission. Pinckney and Marshall remonstrated against this discrimination, but Gerry unwisely consented to deal with Talleyrand alone. Marshall secured a passport with some difficulty and departed for home. Pinckney with more difficulty secured permission to retire to southern France with his invalid daughter.

The war spirit now ran high. President Adams declared that he would never send another minister to France without assurances that he would be “received, respected, and honored as the representative of a great, free, powerful, and independent nation,” and the people supported this declaration with surprising unanimity. Demonstrations occurred in all the playhouses of Philadelphia and New York; young men formed associations and donned the black cockade as an emblem of patriotic devotion; even in the quiet towns of New England, women met to drink tea and to sing the new song “Adams and Liberty.” Cities along the coast vied with one another in their eagerness to build warships. The patriotic fervor found expression in original song and verse. “Hail Columbia” was the happy inspiration of young Joseph Hopkinson, of Philadelphia. For once in his life President John Adams found himself a popular hero riding on the crest of public applause.

To the intense disgust of Jefferson, even Republicans caught the war fever, and joined with the Federalists in putting the country on a war footing. Among the earliest measures of Congress was an act providing for the establishment of a Navy Department. In rapid succession followed acts authorizing the President to permit merchantmen to arm in their own defense and our warships to seize French vessels which preyed upon our commerce. On July 7, the existing treaties with France were repealed. In short, without a formal declaration, the United States was virtually at war with France. The new navy soon put to sea and gratified national pride by several gallant victories, the most notable being the capture of the frigate L’Insurgente by the newly commissioned Constellation, on February 9, 1799. When peace was restored in 1800, the navy had a record of eighty-four prizes, most of which were French privateers.

The organization of the provisional army did not move so rapidly, partly because of the incompetence of the Secretary of War, and partly because of an unseemly wrangle for precedence among the three major-generals whom Adams had named. Conscious of his own inexperience in military affairs, President Adams had persuaded Washington to take chief command of the army with the distinct understanding that he would not be called into active service unless an emergency arose. Washington named Hamilton, C. C. Pinckney, and Knox as major-generals, and the President sent the nominations to the Senate in this order. Misunderstandings arose at once as to the relative rank of these three major-generals. Hamilton and his intimates in the circle of the President’s advisers urged that as his name was first on the list he was the ranking officer. At this Knox took umbrage, for he had outranked Hamilton in the old army; and so, too, had Pinckney. Knowing the intrigue in Hamilton’s behalf and not a little alarmed at the prospect of having the direction of the war pass into the hands of a man whom he regarded as a rival, Adams determined to sign the commissions in the reverse order, thus giving Knox precedence. The friends of Hamilton were enraged at this turn of affairs and prevailed upon Washington to write a letter of protest to the President. Adams was finally persuaded to date all three commissions alike and to leave the designation of rank to the commander-in-chief. Washington promptly named Hamilton as inspector-general with precedence over Pinckney and Knox; whereupon Knox refused to serve.

The immediate outcome of this controversy was to widen the rift which was already separating the President from the faction led by Hamilton. Adams had taken office in the belief that Washington’s cabinet advisers were loyal to him. “Pickering and all his colleagues are as much attached to me as I desire,” he had written just before his inauguration. But he speedily found that all were accustomed to look to Hamilton as the virtual leader of the Federalist party. Moreover, he found himself thrust into the background in the matter of military appointments, as soon as Hamilton took over the actual work of organizing the army. The Constitution made him commander-in-chief; circumstances seemed to conspire, he complained bitterly, “to annihilate the essential powers given to the President.” He had, too, all the natural aversion of a civilian for military affairs. “Regiments are costly articles everywhere,” he told McHenry testily, “and more so in this country than in any other under the sun. And if this country sees a great army to maintain, without an enemy to fight, there may arise an enthusiasm that seems to be little foreseen.”

It would have been strange, indeed, if under these circumstances the President had not scanned the horizon anxiously for the faintest intimations of peace. In October, 1798, definite assurances were given by Talleyrand, through our Minister at The Hague, that France would receive a new minister from the United States. On February 18, 1799, the President confounded both friends and foes by sending to the Senate the nomination of Vans Murray to be Minister to France. The emotions of the militant Federalists were too various to admit of description. It would have been madness, however, not to accept the proffered olive branch. Swallowing their wrath, they agreed to the mission, but substituted a commission of three for a single minister.

From Napoleon, the new master of France, the commissioners secured a convention which not only restored peace, but safeguarded the rights of neutrals, by restraining the right of search and conceding the principle that free ships make free goods. Napoleon consented also to the abrogation of the treaties of 1778, but only upon condition that the new treaty should contain no provision for the settlement of claims for indemnity. John Adams was not far from the truth when he accounted this peace one of the most meritorious actions of his life. “I desire no other inscription over my gravestone,” he wrote fifteen years later, “than: ’Here lies John Adams, who took upon himself the responsibility of the peace with France in the year 1800.’”