According to Jefferson, the President
originally took the same view of the French treaty
that he did. Jefferson relates that on April 18,
1793, Washington spoke of having “never had
a doubt of the validity of the French treaty,”
and he notes that in the cabinet disputes Washington
was inclined to his views. As the embarrassments
of the Administration thickened, the President, it
is true, leaned more and more toward Hamilton, but
this inclination was due more to necessity than to
personal partiality. The explanation stands out
in Jefferson’s own account of events. Hamilton
was clear, positive, and decided as to what to do and
how to do it. Jefferson was active in finding
objections but not in finding ways and means of action.
This contrast became sharper as time went on, and,
as Washington was in a position where he had to do
something, he was forced to rely on Hamilton more
and more. Jefferson held that it would be inexpedient
for the general government to assume the duty of fortifying
the harbors, and that there was no constitutional authority
for establishing a military academy. On November
28, 1793, there was a prolonged wrangle over these
issues at a cabinet meeting, which the President ended
by saying that he would recommend the military academy
to Congress, and “let them decide for themselves
whether the Constitution authorized it or not.”
This was the last of the quarrelsome cabinet sessions
recorded by Jefferson. He vacated the office of
Secretary of State, December 31, 1793, and thereafter
the ascendancy of Hamilton in the Cabinet was indisputed.
An immediate effect of the change
was to give new vigor to efforts at reaching a settlement
with Great Britain. The old troubles over her
retention of the western posts still continued, and
in addition to them came new difficulties arising
from war measures. On January 30, 1793, Thomas
Pinckney, then American minister to Great Britain,
wrote that war was about to begin, “and although
our claim to a free intercourse is founded in reason
and our national right, yet, as we have no armed neutrality
the members whereof this people have to fear, they
may stop our vessels bound to French ports with provisions.”
What was feared soon happened. By the French
decree of 1793, the French colonies were opened to
American trade and West Indian commerce flourished.
This was now afflicted by contraband regulations laid
down by Great Britain, under which many American vessels
were seized for carrying cargoes to or from French
ports. Although Genet’s activities and
the extent to which they were indulged by the United
States did not tend to promote friendly relations with
Great Britain, yet it does not appear that the British
policy was inspired by resentment. The regulations
as defined by instructions issued on June 8, 1793,
made liable to detention all vessels carrying “corn,
flour, or meal” to French ports, with the proviso
that the cargoes might be purchased on behalf of the
British government and the ships might then be released
with a due allowance for freight, or they might be
allowed to dispose of their cargoes in the ports of
any country in amity with Great Britain. Vessels
attempting to enter a blockaded port were liable to
seizure and condemnation, save that the ships of Denmark
and Sweden might be seized only if they should persist
in trying to enter after once having been turned back.
Conciliatory explanations were made
by Hammond, the British minister, in notifying our
State Department. He pointed out that only corn
and flour were contraband, that the regulations did
not extend to other provisions, and that they secured
“to the proprietors, supposing them neutral,
a full indemnification for any loss they may possibly
sustain.” The special privilege extended
to Denmark and Sweden was attributed to treaty requirements
and therefore could not be regarded as invidious.
In reply Jefferson at home and Pinckney abroad argued
in behalf of the United States for the principle that
free ships make free goods, but Great Britain would
not hearken to a doctrine that struck at the efficacy
of her sea power.
Washington besought Congress to support
the efforts of the Administration by making, for the
defense of American interests, such provision as would
inspire respect. In his address of December 3,
1793, he observed: “There is a rank due
to the United States among nations which will be withheld,
if not absolutely lost, by the reputation of weakness.
If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel
it; if we desire to secure peace, one of the most
powerful instruments of our rising prosperity, it must
be known that we are at all times ready for war.”
The answer of Congress was the grudging consent to
some naval preparations already recounted.
After the passage of the navy bill
Sedgwick of Massachusetts endeavored to interest the
House in the general subject of military preparation.
On March 12, 1794, he introduced resolutions for raising
fifteen additional regiments for two years, the term
to be extended for three years in case of the outbreak
of war. In advocating this measure he spoke of
the sorry experience of the country in depending upon
militia. Their “want of discipline occasions
them to commit a great waste on the property of their
fellow citizens, besides a waste of public property.”
As long as we depend upon militia, “European
nations will not consider us as able to retaliate
and assert our rights.” Nothing came of
this sensible proposal, but Sedgwick made an auxiliary
suggestion which Congress did adopt. He urged
that the sailing of vessels from the ports of the United
States be prohibited. An embargo would hold over
foreign nations the threat that, unless they behaved
themselves, their supplies from the United States
might be cut off. Such embargo was voted for a
month from March 26, 1794, which was subsequently
extended for another month, and the President was
authorized to lay, regulate, and revoke embargoes during
the recess of Congress. Congress regarded the
embargo policy as a cheap way out of a difficult situation,
but this method was really not only far more costly
to the nation than would have been the straightforward
course of arming for defense, but at the same time
accomplished nothing. Dayton of New Jersey proposed
to supplement the embargo by the sequestration of all
debts due from citizens of the United States to British
subjects. Clark of New Jersey outdid his colleague
by proposing to prohibit all commercial intercourse
between the United States and Great Britain until such
time as that country should surrender the western
posts and should make restitution for all losses sustained
by American citizens.
Violent speeches were made on these
proposals at the very time when the House was refusing
to support either an army or a navy. Sedgwick
introduced some good sense into a debate that was alternating
between blatant vaporing and legal pedantry, by pointing
out that, under the Constitution, the President of
the United States ought to be allowed to have some
say about the matter. It was the function of the
President to treat with foreign powers, and yet the
House was now considering action which was in effect
“prescribing the terms of treaty, and restraining
the constitutional power from treating on any other
terms.” This argument was used effectively
by a number of speakers. It turned the main position
taken by the advocates of non-intercourse, which was
that the real objection came from the bondholders
who feared that the ensuing loss of revenue might
prevent them from getting their interest. Such
imputations of sordid motive became fruitless when
the issue was raised of the constitutional authority
of the President, but the advocates of non-intercourse
met this new point of view by pointing out that the
Constitution gave Congress the right to regulate commerce.
The feeling against Great Britain was so great that
the House was bent on indulging it, and on April 25,
1794, the non-intercourse bill was passed by a vote
of 58 to 34. The Senate was so evenly divided
that, on the motion to pass the bill to its third
reading, there was a tie vote, and Vice-President
Adams, who was called upon for a casting vote, gave
it against the bill. About a month later in the
House another attempt was made to carry the policy
of non-intercourse by a joint resolution, but by this
time a reaction in favor of the Administration had
set in and the resolution received only 24 yeas to
46 nays, James Madison being among those who stuck
to the proposal to the last.
While the House was abandoning itself
to reckless mischief-making, Washington was striving
to arrange matters by negotiation. The perplexities
of his situation were great and varied. As a military
man he knew that American jurisdiction was precarious
so long as Great Britain held the interior. The
matter had been the subject of prolix correspondence
between Jefferson and Hammond, but the American demands
that Great Britain should surrender the frontier posts
in accordance with the treaty of peace had been met
by demands that America, in accordance with that same
treaty, should first satisfy various claims of British
subjects for restitution, indemnity, and relief.
The regular diplomatic machinery stuck fast at this
point, both at home and abroad. In one of his
gossipy, confidential letters Fisher Ames remarked
that Hammond was a most “petulant, impudent”
man, habitually railing against the conduct of our
government “with a gabble that his feelings render
doubly unintelligible.” But Pinckney, our
representative in England, was equally undiplomatic.
He was “sour and also Gallican”; although
calm in manner, “he had prejudices, and unless
a man has a mind above them, he can do little service
there.”
Washington decided that it would be
wise to send a special envoy to deal with all the
points at issue. He thought first of Hamilton,
but was warned that the Senate would not ratify such
an appointment. Hamilton recommended John Jay
as “the only man in whose qualifications for
success there would be thorough confidence.”
Jay was then chief-justice, but the crisis was so
dangerous as to justify Washington in calling him even
from that important post. He had matchless qualifications
for the mission. He had been minister to Spain,
1778-1782; he had been one of the commissioners who
had negotiated the treaty of peace of 1783; he had
been Secretary of Foreign Affairs, 1784-1789; so that
he had had an experience which familiarized him with
every detail of the questions at issue. As a negotiator
he had always gained marked success by acting upon
his own principle that “a little good-natured
wisdom often does more in politics than much slippery
craft.” Jay showed fine patriotism in accepting
the appointment. He remarked to his friends that
no man could frame a treaty with Great Britain without
making himself unpopular and odious and he accepted
the mission under “a conviction that to refuse
it would be to desert my duty for the sake of my ease
and domestic concerns and comforts.”
Jay was nominated as envoy extraordinary
on April 16, 1794, and, after three days of violent
debate, the appointment was confirmed by the Senate.
The event did not moderate the rage of the House for
immediate action. Some members urged that it
was indelicate for the House to be passing reprisals
at a time when the Executive was attempting friendly
negotiations; but the reply was made that, if there
was any indelicacy, it was on the part of the Executive,
inasmuch as the House proceedings had been already
begun when the President decided to nominate an envoy
extraordinary. While Congress was fuming and wrangling,
Jay was proceeding with his difficult task. He
sailed on May 12, and on June 8 landed in England
where he was hospitably received. Despite these
personal attentions, the differences to be adjusted
were so numerous and complicated that on the surface
the situation looked almost hopeless. Conditions,
however, were really more favorable than they appeared
to be. A change, latent but influential, had
taken place in the mental attitude of the governing
class in England. There had been a notion that
American independence would not last long and that
the country would eventually be restored to the British
Crown. The drift of events was rather in that
direction until Hamilton’s measures gave the
ascendancy to the forces making for American national
development. The practical statesmanship of Great
Britain perhaps saw more clearly the significance of
what was taking place than did that of America itself,
and it was prepared to reckon with this new condition.
Moreover, the European commotion resulting from the
French Revolution had brought to the front a new set
of interests and anxieties, for the free handling
of which a settlement of differences with the United
States might be advantageous. The effect of such
considerations was at least to render the situation
more manageable than might have been expected, and
Jay improved his opportunities with admirable tact.
In pursuance of his principle of bringing
“good-natured wisdom” to bear, Jay suggested
to Lord Grenville, the British Secretary for Foreign
Affairs, that they should dispense with written communications,
and merely meet and converse informally “until
there should appear a probability of coming to some
amicable mutual understanding.” Even after
such understanding should be put into writing, it
was not to be regarded as official or binding, but
simply as an exchange of private memoranda. So
strictly was this informal method adhered to that the
regular force of secretaries and copyists had nothing
to do with the proceedings until the treaty was almost
ready for signing. Jay had been instructed to
demand compensation for some three thousand slaves
who had followed the British troops when they departed,
but Lord Grenville stood firm on the principle that
the slave, once under the British flag, became a free
man, the property rights of the former owner thereupon
becoming extinct and not forming a subject for compensation.
Jay, who really held the same opinion, had to yield
the point. It was agreed that the western posts
should be evacuated by June 1, 1796, an arrangement
which would allow the British government to retain
them about two years longer. That government had
already justified its retention of these posts by averring
that the United States had not complied with the articles
of the peace treaty relating to British debts.
Jay was not in a position to argue the point with any
force, for when he was Secretary of Foreign Affairs
he had advised Congress that these articles “have
been constantly violated on our part by legislative
acts, then and still existing and operating”;
and that Great Britain was therefore not to blame
for retaining the posts. The British government
was undoubtedly cognizant of this report, and Jay could
not make any effective opposition to a proviso which
in effect said to the United States, “before
surrendering the posts we will wait and see whether
you intend to fulfill your agreements.”
The root of the trouble an evil often felt
and still experienced in the United States was
defective sovereignty, an inability of the whole to
control the behavior of its parts. Jay could
not deny that the peace treaty had been violated by
state legislation, and only by the humiliating means
of an avowal of its impotence could he exonerate the
national government from the imputation of bad faith.
The matter was disposed of by provision for a joint
commission to decide upon all cases in which it was
alleged that unlawful impediments had been placed
in the way of collection of debts due British subjects,
and by the United States undertaking payment of the
awards. A similar commission was to pass upon
American claims for British violation of neutral rights.
This arrangement was a concession whose practical
value was eventually shown by the fact that as a result
American merchants received some millions of dollars.
Jay displayed marked adroitness as
a negotiator in dealing with the issues growing out
of past differences, but he made an extraordinary slip
in providing for commercial relations between the
two countries. In their general tenor the articles
displayed broad liberality. Between all British
dominions in Europe and the territories of the United
States there was to be “a reciprocal and perfect
liberty of commerce and navigation.” American
vessels were to “be admitted and hospitably received”
in the ports of East India, and, although participation
in the coasting trade was prohibited, it was provided
that this restriction should not prevent ships going
from one port of discharge to another. The East
Indian trade was not, however, so important as the
nearer West Indian trade, and with respect to the
latter the treaty provisions were narrow and exacting.
American vessels were limited to seventy tons burden,
and it was provided that “the United States
will prohibit and restrain the carrying away of molasses,
sugar, coffee, or cotton in American vessels, either
for his Majesty’s Islands or the United States,
to any part of the world except the United States,
reasonable sea-stores excepted.” Jay, in
a letter to Washington, excused his acceptance of
this restraint on the ground that “the commercial
part of the treaty may be terminated at the expiration
of two years after the war, and in the meantime a
state of things more auspicious to negotiation will
probably arise, especially if the next session of Congress
should not interpose fresh obstacles.”
The treaty was silent on the subject
of impressment, but Jay’s failure on that point
was just what was to have been expected in view of
the unwillingness of the United States to defend its
commerce. Impressment was not abandoned until
many years afterwards, and then not through treaty
stipulation but because the United States had a navy
and could resist aggression on the seas. In its
treatment of the subject of contraband, the treaty
took positions in accord with the international law
then received, but in one respect it made a distinct
advance. Provision was made that war between
the two countries should never become the pretext for
confiscation of debts or annulment of contracts.
This position involves the noble principle that war
should never supersede justice but should be the servant
of justice. Great practical advantage was experienced
from it in the War of 1812, when the United States
was a creditor nation.
On the whole, Jay’s diplomacy
was as enlightened as it was shrewd, but at the time
it exposed him to furious denunciation which he disdained
to notice. “I had read the history of Greece,”
he wrote to a friend, “and was apprised of the
politics and proceedings of more recent date.”
The philosophic composure which he drew from his knowledge
of history enabled him to behave with calm dignity
while he was being burned in effigy, and while mob
orators were heaping insult and calumny on his name.
After a struggle that shook the Government, the treaty
was ratified by the Senate on June 24, 1795, with
the exception of the article about the West Indian
trade, an omission to which Great Britain made no objection.
The treaty was extremely unpopular, chiefly because
unreasonable expectations of its provisions had been
entertained. People had yet to learn that national
independence has its defects as well as its advantages,
and that the traditional intimacy between the West
Indies and America was now on a footing of privilege
and not of right. The great benefits conferred
by the treaty were therefore not appreciated, and
so violent was the fury its terms excited that it
was perhaps fortunate that Jay did not resume his
seat on the Supreme Bench. Before his return from
England and before the details of the treaty had been
made public, he had been elected governor of New York,
and to accept this office he resigned the chief-justiceship.