Jefferson and His Colleagues Part 3

As Vice-President, Burr could not hope to exert much influence upon the Administration, since the office in itself conferred little power and did not even, according to custom, make him a member of the Cabinet; but as Republican boss of New York who had done more than any one man to secure the election of the ticket in 1800, he might reasonably expect Jefferson and his Virginia a.s.sociates to treat him with consideration in the distribution of patronage. To his intense chagrin, he was ignored; not only ignored but discredited, for Jefferson deliberately allied himself with the Clintons and the Livingstons, the rival factions in New York which were bent upon driving Burr from the party. This treatment filled Burr's heart with malice; but he nursed his wounds in secret and bided his time.

Realizing that he was politically bankrupt, Burr made a hazard of new fortunes in 1804 by offering himself as candidate for Governor of New York, an office then held by George Clinton. Early in the year he had a remarkable interview with Jefferson in which he observed that it was for the interest of the party for him to retire, but that his retirement under existing circ.u.mstances would be thought discreditable. He asked "some mark of favor from me," Jefferson wrote in his journal, "which would declare to the world that he retired with my confidence"-an executive appointment, in short. This was tantamount to an offer of peace or war. Jefferson declined to gratify him, and Burr then began an intrigue with the Federalist leaders of New England.

The rise of a Republican party of challenging strength in New England cast Federalist leaders into the deepest gloom. Already troubled by the annexation of Louisiana, which seemed to them to imperil the ascendancy of New England in the Union, they now saw their own ascendancy in New England imperiled. Under the depression of impending disaster, men like Senator Timothy Pickering of Ma.s.sachusetts and Roger Griswold of Connecticut broached to their New England friends the possibility of a withdrawal from the Union and the formation of a Northern Confederacy. As the confederacy shaped itself in Pickering's imagination, it would of necessity include New York; and the chaotic conditions in New York politics at this time invited intrigue. When, therefore, a group of Burr's friends in the Legislature named him as their candidate for Governor, Pickering and Griswold seized the moment to approach him with their treasonable plans. They gave him to understand that as Governor of New York he would naturally hold a strategic position and could, if he would, take the lead in the secession of the Northern States. Federalist support could be given to him in the approaching election. They would be glad to know his views. But the shifty Burr would not commit himself further than to promise a satisfactory administration. Though the Federalist intriguers would have been glad of more explicit a.s.surances they counted on his vengeful temper and hatred of the Virginia domination at Washington to make him a pliable tool. They were willing to commit the party openly to Burr and trust to events to bind him to their cause.

Against this mad intrigue one clear-headed individual resolutely set himself-not wholly from disinterested motives. Alexander Hamilton had good reason to know Burr. He declared in private conversation, and the remark speedily became public property, that he looked upon Burr as a dangerous man who ought not to be trusted with the reins of government. He pleaded with New York Federalists not to commit the fatal blunder of endorsing Burr in caucus, and he finally won his point; but he could not prevent his partisans from supporting Burr at the polls.

The defeat of Burr dashed the hopes of the Federalists of New England; the bubble of a Northern Confederacy vanished. It dashed also Burr's personal ambitions: he could no longer hope for political rehabilitation in New York. And the man who a second time had crossed his path and thwarted his purposes was his old rival, Alexander Hamilton. It is said that Burr was not naturally vindictive: perhaps no man is naturally vindictive. Certain it is that bitter disappointment had now made Burr what Hamilton had called him-"a dangerous man." He took the common course of men of honor at this time; he demanded prompt and unqualified acknowledgment or denial of the expression. Well aware of what lay behind this demand, Hamilton replied deliberately with half-conciliatory words, but he ended with the usual words of those prepared to accept a challenge, "I can only regret the circ.u.mstance, and must abide the consequences." A challenge followed. We are told that Hamilton accepted to save his political leadership and influence-strange illusion in one so gifted! Yet public opinion had not yet condemned dueling, and men must be judged against the background of their times.

On a summer morning (July 11, 1804) Burr and Hamilton crossed the Hudson to Weehawken and there faced each other for the last time. Hamilton withheld his fire; Burr aimed with murderous intent, and Hamilton fell mortally wounded. The shot from Burr's pistol long reverberated. It woke public conscience to the horror and uselessness of dueling, and left Burr an outlaw from respectable society, stunned by the recoil, and under indictment for murder. Only in the South and West did men treat the incident lightly as an affair of honor.

The political career of Burr was now closed. When he again met the Senate face to face, he had been dropped by his own party in favor of George Clinton, to whom he surrendered the Vice-Presidency on March 5, 1805. His farewell address is described as one of the most affecting ever spoken in the Senate. Describing the scene to his daughter, Burr said that tears flowed abundantly, but Burr must have described what he wished to see. American politicians are not Homeric heroes, who weep on slight provocation; and any inclination to pity Burr must have been inhibited by the knowledge that he had made himself the rallying-point of every dubious intrigue at the capital.

The list of Burr's intimates included Jonathan Dayton, whose term as Senator had just ended, and who, like Burr, sought means of promoting his fortunes, John Smith, Senator from Ohio, the notorious Swartwouts of New York who were attached to Burr as gangsters to their chief, and General James Wilkinson, governor of the northern territory carved out of Louisiana and commander of the western army with headquarters at St. Louis.

Wilkinson had a long record of duplicity, which was suspected but never proved by his contemporaries. There was hardly a dubious episode from the Revolution to this date with which he had not been connected. He was implicated in the Conway cabal against Washington; he was active in the separatist movement in Kentucky during the Confederation; he entered into an irregular commercial agreement with the Spanish authorities at New Orleans; he was suspected-and rightly, as doc.u.ments recently unearthed in Spain prove-of having taken an oath of allegiance to Spain and of being in the pay of Spain; he was also suspected-and justly-of using his influence to bring about a separation of the Western States from the Union; yet in 1791 he was given a lieutenant-colonel's commission in the regular army and served under St. Clair in the Northwest, and again as a brigadier-general under Wayne. Even here the atmosphere of intrigue enveloped him, and he was accused of inciting discontent among the Kentucky troops and of trying to supplant Wayne. When commissioners were trying to run the Southern boundary in accordance with the treaty of 1795 with Spain, Wilkinson-still a pensioner of Spain, as doc.u.ments prove-attempted to delay the survey. In the light of these revelations, Wilkinson appears as an unscrupulous adventurer whose thirst for lucre made him willing to betray either master-the Spaniard who pensioned him or the American who gave him his command.

In the spring of 1805 Burr made a leisurely journey across the mountains, by way of Pittsburgh, to New Orleans, where he had friends and personal followers. The secretary of the territory was one of his henchmen; a justice of the superior court was his stepson; the Creole pet.i.tionists who had come to Washington to secure self-government had been cordially received by Burr and had a lively sense of grat.i.tude. On his way down the Ohio, Burr landed at Blennerha.s.sett's Island, where an eccentric Irishman of that name owned an estate. Harman Blennerha.s.sett was to rue the day that he entertained this fascinating guest. At Cincinnati he was the guest of Senator Smith, and there he also met Dayton. At Nashville he visited General Andrew Jackson, who was thrilled with the prospect of war with Spain; at Fort Ma.s.sac he spent four days in close conference with General Wilkinson; and at New Orleans he consorted with Daniel Clark, a rich merchant and the most uncompromising opponent of Governor Claiborne, and with members of the Mexican a.s.sociation and every would-be adventurer and filibuster. In November, Burr was again in Washington. What was the purpose of this journey and what did it accomplish?

It is far easier to tell what Burr did after this mysterious western expedition than what he planned to do. There is danger of reading too great consistency into his designs. At one moment, if we may believe Anthony Merry, the British Minister, who lent an ear to Burr's proposals, he was plotting a revolution which should separate the Western States from the Union. To accomplish this design he needed British funds and a British naval force. Jonathan Dayton revealed to Yrujo much the same plot-which he thought was worth thirty or forty thousand dollars to the Spanish Government. To such urgent necessity for funds were the conspirators driven. But Dayton added further details to the story which may have been intended only to intimidate Yrujo. The revolution effected by British aid, said Dayton gravely, an expedition would be undertaken against Mexico. Subsequently Dayton unfolded a still more remarkable tale. Burr had been disappointed in the expectation of British aid, and he was now bent upon "an almost insane plan," which was nothing less than the seizure of the Government at Washington. With the government funds thus obtained, and with the necessary frigates, the conspirators would sail for New Orleans and proclaim the independence of Louisiana and the Western States.

The kernel of truth in these accounts is not easily separated from the chaff. The supposition that Burr seriously contemplated a separation of the Western States from the Union may be dismissed from consideration. The loyalty of the Mississippi Valley at this time is beyond question; and Burr was too keen an observer not to recognize the temper of the people with whom he sojourned. But there is reason to believe that he and his confederates may have planned an enterprise against Mexico, for such a project was quite to the taste of Westerners who hated Spain as ardently as they loved the Union. Circ.u.mstances favored a filibustering expedition. The President's bellicose message of December had prepared the people of the Mississippi Valley for war; the Spanish plotters had been expelled from Louisiana; Spanish forces had crossed the Sabine; American troops had been sent to repel them if need be; the South American revolutionist Miranda had sailed, with vessels fitted out in New York, to start a revolt against Spanish rule in Caracas; every revolutionist in New Orleans was on the qui vive. What better time could there be to launch a filibustering expedition against Mexico? If it succeeded and a republic were established, the American Government might be expected to recognize a fait accompli.

The success of Burr's plans, whatever they may have been, depended on his procuring funds; and it was doubtless the hope of extracting aid from Blennerha.s.sett that drew him to the island in midsummer of 1806. Burr was accompanied by his daughter Theodosia and her husband, Joseph Alston, a wealthy South Carolina planter, who was either the dupe or the accomplice of Burr. Together they persuaded the credulous Irishman to purchase a tract of land on the Was.h.i.ta River in the heart of Louisiana, which would ultimately net him a profit of a million dollars when Louisiana became an independent state with Burr as ruler and England as protector. They even a.s.sured Blennerha.s.sett that he should go as minister to England. He was so dazzled at the prospect that he not only made the initial payment for the lands, but advanced all his property for Burr's use on receiving a guaranty from Alston. Having landed his fish, Burr set off down the river to visit General Jackson at Nashville and to procure boats and supplies for his expedition.

Meanwhile, Theodosia-the brilliant, fascinating Theodosia-and her husband played the game at Blennerha.s.sett's Island. Blennerha.s.sett's head was completely turned. He babbled most indiscreetly about the approaching coup d'etat. Colonel Burr would be king of Mexico, he told his gardener, and Mrs. Alston would be queen when Colonel Burr died. Who could resist the charms of this young princess? Blennerha.s.sett and his wife were impatient to exchange their little isle for marble halls in far away Mexico.

But all was not going well with the future Emperor of Mexico. Ugly rumors were afloat. The active preparations at Blennerha.s.sett's Island, the building of boats at various points along the river, the enlistment of recruits, coupled with hints of secession, disturbed such loyal citizens as the District-Attorney at Frankfort, Kentucky. He took it upon himself to warn the President, and then, in open court, charged Burr with violating the laws of the United States by setting on foot a military expedition against Mexico and with inciting citizens to rebellion in the Western States. But at the meeting of the grand jury Burr appeared surrounded by his friends and with young Henry Clay for counsel. The grand jury refused to indict him and he left the court in triumph. Some weeks later the District-Attorney renewed his motion; but again Burr was discharged by the grand jury, amid popular applause. Enthusiastic admirers in Frankfort even gave a ball in his honor.

Notwithstanding these warnings of conspiracy, President Jefferson exhibited a singular indifference and composure. To all alarmists he made the same reply. The people of the West were loyal and could be trusted. It was not until disquieting and ambiguous messages from Wilkinson reached Washington-disquieting because ambiguous-that the President was persuaded to act. On the 27th of November, he issued a proclamation warning all good citizens that sundry persons were conspiring against Spain and enjoining all Federal officers to apprehend those engaged in the unlawful enterprise. The appearance of this proclamation at Nashville should have led to Burr's arrest, for he was still detained there; but mysterious influences seemed to paralyze the arm of the Government. On the 22d of December, Burr set off, with two boats which Jackson had built and some supplies, down the c.u.mberland. At the mouth of the river, he joined forces with Blennerha.s.sett, who had left his island in haste just as the Ohio militia was about to descend upon him. The combined strength of the flotilla was nine bateaux carrying less than sixty men. There was still time to intercept the expedition at Fort Ma.s.sac, but again delays that have never been explained prevented the President's proclamation from arriving in time; and Burr's little fleet floated peacefully by down stream.

The scene now shifts to the lower Mississippi, and the heavy villain of the melodrama appears on the stage in the uniform of a United States military officer-General James Wilkinson. He had been under orders since May 6, 1806, to repair to the Territory of Orleans with as little delay as possible and to repel any invasion east of the River Sabine; but it was now September and he had only just reached Natchitoches, where the American volunteers and militiamen from Louisiana and Mississippi were concentrating. Much water had flowed under the bridge since Aaron Burr visited New Orleans.

After President Jefferson's bellicose message of the previous December, war with Spain seemed inevitable. And when Spanish troops crossed the Sabine in July and took up their post only seventeen miles from Natchitoches, Western Americans awaited only the word to begin hostilities. The Orleans Gazette declared that the time to repel Spanish aggression had come. The enemy must be driven beyond the Sabine. "The route from Natchitoches to Mexico is clear, plain, and open." The occasion was at hand "for conferring on our oppressed Spanish brethren in Mexico those inestimable blessings of freedom which we ourselves enjoy." "Gallant Louisianians! Now is the time to distinguish yourselves .... Should the generous efforts of our Government to establish a free, independent Republican Empire in Mexico be successful, how fortunate, how enviable would be the situation in New Orleans!" The editor who sounded this clarion call was a coadjutor of Burr. On the flood tide of a popular war against Spain, they proposed to float their own expedition. Much depended on General Wilkinson; but he had already written privately of subverting the Spanish Government in Mexico, and carrying "our conquests to California and the Isthmus of Darien."

With much swagger and braggadocio, Wilkinson advanced to the center of the stage. He would drive the Spaniards over the Sabine, though they outnumbered him three to one. "I believe, my friend," he wrote, "I shall be obliged to fight and to flog them." Magnificent stage thunder. But to Wilkinson's chagrin the Spaniards withdrew of their own accord. Not a Spaniard remained to contest his advance to the border. Yet, oddly enough, he remained idle in camp. Why?

Some two weeks later, an emissary appeared at Natchitoches with a letter from Burr dated the 29th of July, in cipher. What this letter may have originally contained will probably never be known, for only Wilkinson's version survives, and that underwent frequent revision.* It is quite as remarkable for its omissions as for anything that it contains. In it there is no mention of a western uprising nor of a revolution in New Orleans; but only the intimation that an attack is to be made upon Spanish possessions, presumably Mexico, with possibly Baton Rouge as the immediate objective. Whether or no this letter changed Wilkinson's plan, we can only conjecture. Certain it is, however, that about this time Wilkinson determined to denounce Burr and his a.s.sociates and to play a double game, posing on the one hand as the savior of his country and on the other as a secret friend to Spain. After some hesitation he wrote to President Jefferson warning him in general terms of an expedition preparing against Vera Cruz but omitting all mention of Burr. Subsequently he wrote a confidential letter about this "deep, dark, and widespread conspiracy" which enmeshed all cla.s.ses and conditions in New Orleans and might bring seven thousand men from the Ohio. The contents of Burr's mysterious letter were to be communicated orally to the President by the messenger who bore this precious warning. It was on the strength of these communications that the President issued his proclamation of the 27th of November.

* What is usually accepted as the correct version is printed by McCaleb in his "Aaron Burr Conspiracy," pp. 74 and 75, and by Henry Adams in his "History of the United States,"

vol. III, pp. 253-4.

While Wilkinson was inditing these misleading missives to the President, he was preparing the way for his entry at New Orleans. To the perplexed and alarmed Governor he wrote: "You are surrounded by dangers of which you dream not, and the destruction of the American Government is seriously menaced. The storm will probably burst in New Orleans, where I shall meet it, and triumph or perish!" Just five days later he wrote a letter to the Viceroy of Mexico which proves him beyond doubt the most contemptible rascal who ever wore an American uniform. "A storm, a revolutionary tempest, an infernal plot threatens the destruction of the empire," he wrote; the first object of attack would be New Orleans, then Vera Cruz, then Mexico City; scenes of violence and pillage would follow; let His Excellency be on his guard. To ward off these calamities, "I will hurl myself like a Leonidas into the breach." But let His Excellency remember what risks the writer of this letter incurs, "by offering without orders this communication to a foreign power," and let him reimburse the bearer of this letter to the amount of 121,000 pesos which will be spent to shatter the plans of these bandits from the Ohio.

The arrival of Wilkinson in New Orleans was awaited by friends and foes, with bated breath. The conspirators had as yet no intimation of his intentions: Governor Claiborne was torn by suspicion of this would-be savior, for at the very time he was reading Wilkinson's gasconade he received a cryptic letter from Andrew Jackson which ran, "keep a watchful eye on our General and beware of an attack as well from your own country as Spain!" If Claiborne could not trust "our General," whom could he trust!

The stage was now set for the last act in the drama. Wilkinson arrived in the city, deliberately set Claiborne aside, and established a species of martial law, not without opposition. To justify his course Wilkinson swore to an affidavit based on Burr's letter of the 29th of July and proceeded with his arbitrary arrests. One by one Burr's confederates were taken into custody. The city was kept in a state of alarm; Burr's armed thousands were said to be on the way; the negroes were to be incited to revolt. Only the actual appearance of Burr's expedition or some extraordinary happening could maintain this high pitch of popular excitement and save Wilkinson from becoming the ridiculous victim of his own folly.

On the 10th of January (1807), after an uneventful voyage down the Mississippi, Burr's flotilla reached the mouth of Bayou Pierre, some thirty miles above Natchez. Here at length was the huge armada which was to shatter the Union-nine boats and sixty men! Tension began to give way. People began to recover their sense of humor. Wilkinson was never in greater danger in his life, for he was about to appear ridiculous. It was at Bayou Pierre that Burr going ash.o.r.e learned that Wilkinson had betrayed him. His first instinct was to flee, for if he should proceed to New Orleans he would fall into Wilkinson's hands and doubtless be court-martialed and shot; but if he tarried, he would be arrested and sent to Washington. Indecision and despair seized him; and while Blennerha.s.sett and other devoted followers waited for their emperor to declare his intention, he found himself facing the acting-governor of the Mississippi Territory with a warrant for his arrest. To the chagrin of his fellow conspirators, Burr surrendered tamely, even pusillanimously.

The end of the drama was near at hand. Burr was brought before a grand jury, and though he once more escaped indictment, he was put under bonds, quite illegally he thought, to appear when summoned. On the 1st of February he abandoned his followers to the tender mercies of the law and fled in disguise into the wilderness. A month later he was arrested near the Spanish border above Mobile by Lieutenant Gaines, in command at Fort Stoddert, and taken to Richmond. The trial that followed did not prove Burr's guilt, but it did prove Thomas Jefferson's credulity and cast grave doubts on James Wilkinson's loyalty.* Burr was acquitted of the charge of treason in court, but he remained under popular indictment, and his memory has never been wholly cleared of the suspicion of treason.

* An account of the trial of Burr will be found in "John Marshall and the Const.i.tution" by Edward S. Corwin, in "The Chronicles of America".

CHAPTER VII. AN ABUSE OF HOSPITALITY

While Captain Bainbridge was eating his heart out in the Pasha's prison at Tripoli, his thoughts reverting constantly to his lost frigate, he reminded Commodore Preble, with whom he was allowed to correspond, that "the greater part of our crew consists of English subjects not naturalized in America." This incidental remark comes with all the force of a revelation to those who have fondly imagined that the st.u.r.dy jack-tars who manned the first frigates were genuine American sea-dogs. Still more disconcerting is the information contained in a letter from the Secretary of the Treasury to President Jefferson, some years later, to the effect that after 1803 American tonnage increased at the rate of seventy thousand a year, but that of the four thousand seamen required to man this growing mercantile marine, fully one-half were British subjects, presumably deserters. How are these uncomfortable facts to be explained? Let a third piece of information be added. In a report of Admiral Nelson, dated 1803, in which he broaches a plan for manning the British navy, it is soberly stated that forty-two thousand British seamen deserted "in the late war." Whenever a large convoy a.s.sembled at Portsmouth, added the Admiral, not less than a thousand seamen usually deserted from the navy.

The slightest acquaintance with the British navy when Nelson was winning immortal glory by his victory at Trafalgar must convince the most sceptical that his seamen for the most part were little better than galley slaves. Life on board these frigates was well-nigh unbearable. The average life of a seaman, Nelson reckoned, was forty-five years. In this age before processes of refrigeration had been invented, food could not be kept edible on long voyages, even in merchantmen. Still worse was the fare on men-of-war. The health of a crew was left to Providence. Little or no forethought was exercised to prevent disease; the commonest matters of personal hygiene were neglected; and when disease came the remedies applied were scarcely to be preferred to the disease. Discipline, always brutal, was symbolized by the cat-o'-nine-tails. Small wonder that the navy was avoided like the plague by every man and seaman.

Yet a navy had to be maintained: it was the cornerstone of the Empire. And in all the history of that Empire the need of a navy was never stronger than in these opening years of the nineteenth century. The practice of impressing able men for the royal navy was as old as the reign of Elizabeth. The press gang was an odious inst.i.tution of long standing-a terror not only to rogue and vagabond but to every able-bodied seafaring man and waterman on rivers, who was not exempted by some special act. It ransacked the prisons, and carried to the navy not only its victims but the germs of fever which infested public places of detention. But the press gang harvested its greatest crop of seamen on the seas. Merchantmen were stopped at sea, robbed of their able sailors, and left to limp short-handed into port. A British East Indiaman homeward bound in 1802 was stripped of so many of her crew in the Bay of Biscay that she was unable to offer resistance to a French privateer and fell a rich victim into the hands of the enemy. The necessity of the royal navy knew no law and often defeated its own purpose.

Death or desertion offered the only way of escape to the victim of the press gang. And the commander of a British frigate dreaded making port almost as much as an epidemic of typhus. The deserter always found American merchantmen ready to harbor him. Fair wages, relatively comfortable quarters, and decent treatment made him quite ready to take any measures to forswear his allegiance to Britannia. Naturalization papers were easily procured by a few months' residence in any State of the Union; and in default of legitimate papers, certificates of citizenship could be bought for a song in any American seaport, where shysters drove a thrifty traffic in bogus doc.u.ments. Provided the English navy took the precaution to have the description in his certificate tally with his personal appearance, and did not let his tongue betray him, he was reasonably safe from capture.

Facing the palpable fact that British seamen were deserting just when they were most needed and were making American merchantmen and frigates their asylum, the British naval commanders, with no very nice regard for legal distinctions, extended their search for deserters to the decks of American vessels, whether in British waters or on the high seas. If in time of war, they reasoned, they could stop a neutral ship on the high seas, search her for contraband of war, and condemn ship and cargo in a prize court if carrying contraband, why might they not by the same token search a vessel for British deserters and impress them into service again? Two considerations seem to justify this reasoning: the trickiness of the smart Yankees who forged citizenship papers, and the indelible character of British allegiance. Once an Englishman always an Englishman, by Jove! Your hound of a sea-dog might try to talk through his nose like a Yankee, you know, and he might shove a dirty bit of paper at you, but he couldn't shake off his British citizenship if he wanted to! This was good English law, and if it wasn't recognized by other nations so much the worse for them. As one of these redoubtable British captains put it, years later: "'Might makes right' is the guiding, practical maxim among nations and ever will be, so long as powder and shot exist, with money to back them, and energy to wield them." Of course, there were hair-splitting fellows, plenty of them, in England and the States, who told you that it was one thing to seize a vessel carrying contraband and have her condemned by judicial process in a court of admiralty, and quite another thing to carry British subjects off the decks of a merchantman flying a neutral flag; but if you knew the blasted rascals were deserters what difference did it make? Besides, what would become of the British navy, if you listened to all the fine-spun arguments of landsmen? And if these stalwart blue-water Britishers could have read what Thomas Jefferson was writing at this very time, they would have cla.s.sed him with the armchair critics who had no proper conception of a sailor's duty. "I hold the right of expatriation," wrote the President, "to be inherent in every man by the laws of nature, and incapable of being rightfully taken away from him even by the united will of every other person in the nation."

In the year 1805, while President Jefferson was still the victim of his overmastering pa.s.sion, and disposed to cultivate the good will of England, if thereby he might obtain the Floridas, unforeseen commercial complications arose which not only blocked the way to a better understanding in Spanish affairs but strained diplomatic relations to the breaking point. News reached Atlantic seaports that American merchantmen, which had hitherto engaged with impunity in the carrying trade between Europe and the West Indies, had been seized and condemned in British admiralty courts. Every American shipmaster and owner at once lifted up his voice in indignant protest; and all the latent hostility to their old enemy revived. Here were new orders-in-council, said they: the leopard cannot change his spots. England is still England-the implacable enemy of neutral shipping. "Never will neutrals be perfectly safe till free goods make free ships or till England loses two or three great naval battles," declared the Salem Register.

The recent seizures were not made by orders-in-council, however, but in accordance with a decision recently handed down by the court of appeals in the case of the ship Ess.e.x. Following a practice which had become common in recent years, the Ess.e.x had sailed with a cargo from Barcelona to Salem and thence to Havana. On the high seas she had been captured, and then taken to a British port, where ship and cargo were condemned because the voyage from Spain to her colony had been virtually continuous, and by the so-called Rule of 1756, direct trade between a European state and its colony was forbidden to neutrals in time of war when such trade had not been permitted in time of peace. Hitherto, the British courts had inclined to the view that when goods had been landed in a neutral country and duties paid, the voyage had been broken. Tacitly a trade that was virtually direct had been countenanced, because the payment of duties seemed evidence enough that the cargo became a part of the stock of the neutral country and, if reshipped, was then a bona fide neutral cargo. Suddenly English merchants and shippers woke to the fact that they were often victims of deception. Cargoes would be landed in the United States, duties ostensibly paid, and the goods ostensibly imported, only to be reshipped in the same bottoms, with the connivance of port officials, either without paying any real duties or with drawbacks. In the case of the Ess.e.x the court of appeals cut directly athwart these practices by going behind the prima facie payment and inquiring into the intent of the voyage. The mere touching at a port without actually importing the cargo into the common stock of the country did not alter the nature of the voyage. The crucial point was the intent, which the court was now and hereafter determined to ascertain by examination of facts. The court reached the indubitable conclusion that the cargo of the Ess.e.x had never been intended for American markets. The open-minded historian must admit that this was a fair application of the Rule of 1756, but he may still challenge the validity of the rule, as all neutral countries did, and the wisdom of the monopolistic impulse which moved the commercial cla.s.ses and the courts of England to this decision.*

* Professor William E. Lingelbach in a notable article on "England and Neutral Trade" in "The Military Historian and Economist" (April, 1917) has pointed out the error committed by almost every historian from Henry Adams down, that the Ess.e.x decision reversed previous rulings of the court and was not in accord with British law.

Had the impressment of seamen and the spoliation of neutral commerce occurred only on the high seas, public resentment would have mounted to a high pitch in the United States; but when British cruisers ran into American waters to capture or burn French vessels, and when British men-of-war blockaded ports, detaining and searching-and at times capturing-American vessels, indignation rose to fever heat. The blockade of New York Harbor by two British frigates, the Cambrian and the Leander, exasperated merchants beyond measure. On board the Leander was a young midshipman, Basil Hall, who in after years described the activities of this execrated frigate.

"Every morning at daybreak, we set about arresting the progress of all the vessels we saw, firing of guns to the right and left to make every ship that was running in heave to, or wait until we had leisure to send a boat on board 'to see, in our lingo, 'what she was made of.' I have frequently known a dozen, and sometimes a couple of dozen, ships lying a league or two off the port, losing their fair wind, their tide, and worse than all their market, for many hours, sometimes the whole day, before our search was completed."*

* "Fragments of Voyages and Travels," quoted by Henry Adams, in "History of the United States", vol. III, p. 92.

One day in April, 1806, the Leander, trying to halt a merchantman that she meant to search, fired a shot which killed the helmsman of a pa.s.sing sloop. The boat sailed on to New York with the mangled body; and the captain, brother of the murdered man, lashed the populace into a rage by his mad words. Supplies for the frigates were intercepted, personal violence was threatened to any British officers caught on sh.o.r.e, the captain of the Leander was indicted for murder, and the funeral of the murdered sailor was turned into a public demonstration. Yet nothing came of this incident, beyond a proclamation by the President closing the ports of the United States to the offending frigates and ordering the arrest of the captain of the Leander wherever found. After all, the death of a common seaman did not fire the hearts of farmers peacefully tilling their fields far beyond hearing of the Leander's guns.

A year full of troublesome happenings pa.s.sed; scores of American vessels were condemned in British admiralty courts, and American seamen were impressed with increasing frequency, until in the early summer of 1807 these manifold grievances culminated in an outrage that shook even Jefferson out of his composure and evoked a pa.s.sionate outcry for war from all parts of the country.

While a number of British war vessels were lying in Hampton Roads watching for certain French frigates which had taken refuge up Chesapeake Bay, they lost a number of seamen by desertion under peculiarly annoying circ.u.mstances. In one instance a whole boat's crew made off under cover of night to Norfolk and there publicly defied their commander. Three deserters from the British frigate Melampus had enlisted on the American frigate Chesapeake, which had just been fitted out for service in the Mediterranean; but on inquiry these three were proven to be native Americans who had been impressed into British service. Unfortunately inquiry did disclose one British deserter who had enlisted on the Chesapeake, a loud-mouthed tar by the name of Jenkin Ratford. These irritating facts stirred Admiral Berkeley at Halifax to highhanded measures. Without waiting for instructions, he issued an order to all commanders in the North Atlantic Squadron to search the Chesapeake for deserters, if she should be encountered on the high seas. This order of the 1st of June should be shown to the captain of the Chesapeake as sufficient authority for searching her.

On June 22, 1807, the Chesapeake pa.s.sed unsuspecting between the capes on her way to the Mediterranean. She was a stanch frigate carrying forty guns and a crew of 375 men and boys; but she was at this time in a distressing state of unreadiness, owing to the dilatoriness and incompetence of the naval authorities at Washington. The gundeck was littered with lumber and odds and ends of rigging; the guns, though loaded, were not all fitted to their carriages; and the crew was untrained. As the guns had to be fired by slow matches or by loggerheads heated red-hot, and the ammunition was stored in the magazine, the frigate was totally unprepared for action. Commodore Barron, who commanded the Chesapeake, counted on putting her into fighting trim on the long voyage across the Atlantic.

Just ahead of the Chesapeake as she pa.s.sed out to sea, was the Leopard, a British frigate of fifty-two guns, which was apparently on the lookout for suspicious merchantmen. It was not until both vessels were eight miles or more southeast of Cape Henry that the movements of the Leopard began to attract attention. At about half-past three in the afternoon she came within hailing distance and hove to, announcing that she had dispatches for the commander. The Chesapeake also hove to and answered the hail, a risky move considering that she was unprepared for action and that the Leopard lay to the windward. But why should the commander of the American frigate have entertained suspicions?

A boat put out from the Leopard, bearing a petty officer, who delivered a note enclosing Admiral Berkeley's order and expressing the hope that "every circ.u.mstance... may be adjusted in a manner that the harmony subsisting between the two countries may remain undisturbed." Commodore Barron replied that he knew of no British deserters on his vessel and declined in courteous terms to permit his crew to be mustered by any other officers but their own. The messenger departed, and then, for the first time entertaining serious misgivings, Commodore Barron ordered his decks cleared for action. But before the crew could bestir themselves, the Leopard drew near, her men at quarters. The British commander shouted a warning, but Barron, now thoroughly alarmed, replied, "I don't hear what you say." The warning was repeated, but again Barron to gain time shouted that he could not hear. The Leopard then fired two shots across the bow of the Chesapeake, and almost immediately without parleying further-she was now within two hundred feet of her victim-poured a broadside into the American vessel.

Confusion reigned on the Chesapeake. The crew for the most part showed courage, but they were helpless, for they could not fire a gun for want of slow matches or loggerheads. They crowded about the magazine clamoring in vain for a chance to defend the vessel; they yelled with rage at their predicament. Only one gun was discharged and that was by means of a live coal brought up from the galley after the Chesapeake had received a third broadside and Commodore Barron had ordered the flag to be hauled down to spare further slaughter. Three of his crew had already been killed and eighteen wounded, himself among the number. The whole action lasted only fifteen minutes.

Boarding crews now approached and several British officers climbed to the deck of the Chesapeake and mustered her crew. Among the ship's company they found the alleged deserters and, hiding in the coal-hole, the notorious Jenkin Ratford. These four men they took with them, and the Leopard, having fulfilled her instructions, now suffered the Chesapeake to limp back to Hampton Roads. "For the first time in their history," writes Henry Adams, * "the people of the United States learned, in June, 1807, the feeling of a true national emotion. Hitherto every public pa.s.sion had been more or less partial and one-sided;... but the outrage committed on the Chesapeake stung through hidebound prejudices, and made democrat and aristocrat writhe alike."

* History of the United States, vol. IV, p. 27.

Had President Jefferson chosen to go to war at this moment, he would have had a united people behind him, and he was well aware that he possessed the power of choice. "The affair of the Chesapeake put war into my hand," he wrote some years later. "I had only to open it and let havoc loose." But Thomas Jefferson was not a martial character. The State Governors, to be sure, were requested to have their militia in readiness, and the Governor of Virginia was desired to call such companies into service as were needed for the defense of Norfolk. The President referred in indignant terms to the abuse of the laws of hospitality and the "outrage" committed by the British commander; but his proclamation only ordered all British armed vessels out of American waters and forbade all intercourse with them if they remained. The tone of the proclamation was so moderate as to seem pusillanimous. John Randolph called it an apology. Thomas Jefferson did not mean to have war. With that extraordinary confidence in his own powers, which in smaller men would be called smug conceit, he believed that he could secure disavowal and honorable reparation for the wrong committed; but he chose a frail intermediary when he committed this delicate mission to James Monroe.