Jefferson and His Colleagues: A Chronicle of the Virginia Dynasty

by Allen Johnson

Another scarcely less futile chapter in diplomacy began with the arrival of Francis James Jackson as British Minister in September. Those who knew this Briton were justified in concluding that conciliation had no important place in the programme of the Foreign Office, for it was he who, two years before, had conducted those negotiations with Denmark which culminated in the bombardment and destruction of Copenhagen. "It is rather a prevailing notion here," wrote Pinkney from London, "that this gentleman's conduct will not and cannot be what we all wish." And this impression was so fully shared by Madison that he would not hasten his departure from Montpelier but left Jackson to his own devices at the capital for a full month.

This interval of enforced inactivity had one unhappy consequence. Not finding employment for all his idle hours, Jackson set himself to read the correspondence of his predecessor, and from it he drew the conclusion that Erskine was a greater fool than he had thought possible, and that the American Government had been allowed to use language of which "every third word was a declaration of war." The further he read the greater his ire, so that when the President arrived in Washington (October 1), Jackson was fully resolved to let the American Government know what was due to a British Minister who had had audiences "with most of the sovereigns of Europe."

Though neither the President nor Gallatin, to whose mature judgment he constantly turned, believed that Jackson had any proposals to make, they were willing to let Robert Smith carry on informal conversations with him. It speedily appeared that so far from making overtures, Jackson was disposed to await proposals. The President then instructed the Secretary of State to announce that further discussions would be "in the written form" and henceforth himself took direct charge of negotiations. The exchange of letters which followed reveals Madison at his best. His rapier-like thrusts soon pierced even the thick hide of this conceited Englishman. The stupid Smith who signed these letters appeared to be no mean adversary after all.

In one of his rejoinders the British Minister yielded to a flash of temper and insinuated (as Canning in his instructions had done) that the American Government had known Erskine's instructions and had encouraged him to set them aside—had connived in short at his wrongdoing. "Such insinuations," replied Madison sharply, "are inadmissible in the intercourse of a foreign minister with a government that understands what it owes itself." "You will find that in my correspondence with you," wrote Jackson angrily, "I have carefully avoided drawing conclusions that did not necessarily follow from the premises advanced by me, and least of all should I think of uttering an insinuation where I was unable to substantiate a fact." A fatal outburst of temper which delivered the writer into the hands of his adversary. "Sir," wrote the President, still using the pen of his docile secretary, "finding that you have used a language which cannot be understood but as reiterating and even aggravating the same gross insinuation, it only remains, in order to preclude opportunities which are thus abused, to inform you that no further communications will be received from you." Therewith terminated the American Mission of Francis James Jackson.

Following this diplomatic episode, Congress Wain sought a way of escape from the consequences of total nonintercourse. It finally enacted a bill known as Macon's Bill No. 2, which in a sense reversed the former policy, since it left commerce everywhere free, and authorized the President, "in case either Great Britain or France shall, before the 3d day of March next, so revoke or modify her edicts as that they shall cease to violate the neutral commerce of the United States," to cut off trade with the nation which continued to offend. The act thus gave the President an immense discretionary power which might bring the country face to face with war. It was the last act in that extraordinary series of restrictive measures which began with the Non-Intercourse Act of 1806. The policy of peaceful coercion entered on its last phase.

And now, once again, the shadow of the Corsican fell across the seas. With the unerring shrewdness of an intellect never vexed by ethical considerations, Napoleon announced that he would meet the desires of the American Government. "I am authorized to declare to you, Sir," wrote the Duc de Cadore, Minister of Foreign Affairs, to Armstrong, "that the Decrees of Berlin and Milan are revoked, and that after November 1 they will cease to have effect—it being understood that in consequence of this declaration the English are to revoke their Orders-in-Council, and renounce the new principles of blockade which they have wished to establish; or that the United States, conformably to the Act you have just communicated [the Macon Act], cause their rights to be respected by the English."

It might be supposed that President Madison, knowing with whom he had to deal, would have hesitated to accept Napoleon's asseverations at their face value. He had, indeed, no assurances beyond Cadore's letter that the French decrees had been repealed. But he could not let slip this opportunity to force Great Britain's hand. It seemed to be a last chance to test the effectiveness of peaceable coercion. On November 2, 1810, he issued the momentous proclamation which eventually made Great Britain rather than France the object of attack. "It has been officially made known to this government," said the President, "that the said edicts of France have been so revoked as that they ceased, on the first day of the present month, to violate the neutral commerce of the United States." Thereupon the Secretary of the Treasury instructed collectors of customs that commercial intercourse with Great Britain would be suspended after the 2d of February of the following year.

The next three months were full of painful experiences for President Madison. He waited, and waited in vain, for authentic news of the formal repeal of the French decrees; and while he waited, he was distressed and amazed to learn that American vessels were still being confiscated in French ports. In the midst of these uncertainties occurred the biennial congressional elections, the outcome of which only deepened his perplexities. Nearly one-half of those who sat in the existing Congress failed of reelection, yet, by a vicious custom, the new House, which presumably reflected the popular mood in 1810, would not meet for thirteen months, while the old discredited Congress wearily dragged out its existence in a last session. Vigorous presidential leadership, it is true, might have saved the expiring Congress from the reproach of incapacity, but such leadership was not to be expected from James Madison.

So it was that the President's message to this moribund Congress was simply a counsel of prudence and patience. It pointed out, to be sure, the uncertainties of the situation, but it did not summon Congress sternly to face the alternatives. It alluded mildly to the need of a continuance of our defensive and precautionary arrangements, and suggested further organization and training of the militia; it contemplated with satisfaction the improvement of the quantity and quality of the output of cannon and small arms; it set the seal of the President's approval upon the new military academy; but nowhere did it sound a trumpet-call to real preparedness.

Even to these mild suggestions Congress responded indifferently. It slightly increased the naval appropriations, but it actually reduced the appropriations for the army; and it adjourned without acting on the bill authorizing the President to enroll fifty thousand volunteers. Personal animosity and prejudice combined to defeat the proposals of the Secretary of the Treasury. A bill to recharter the national bank, which Gallatin regarded as an indispensable fiscal agent, was defeated; and a bill providing for a general increase of duties on imports to meet the deficit was laid aside. Congress would authorize a loan of five million dollars but no new taxes. Only one bill was enacted which could be said to sustain the President's policy—that reviving certain parts of the Non-Intercourse Act of 1809 against Great Britain. With this last helpless gasp the Eleventh Congress expired.