Under these circumstances the President and his Cabinet adopted the course which in the light of subsequent events seems to have been woefully ill-timed and hazardous in the extreme. They determined to sacrifice the army and navy. In extenuation of this decision, it may be said that the danger of war with France, which had forced the Adams Administration to double expenditures, had passed; and that Europe was at this moment at peace, though only the most sanguine and shortsighted could believe that continued peace was possible in Europe with the First Consul in the saddle. It was agreed, then, that the expenditures for the military and naval establishments should be kept at about $2,500,000—somewhat below the normal appropriation before the recent war-flurry; and that wherever possible expenses should be reduced by careful pruning of the list of employees at the navy yards. Such was the programme of humdrum economy which President Jefferson laid before Congress. After the exciting campaign of 1800, when the public was assured that the forces of Darkness and Light were locked in deadly combat for the soul of the nation, this tame programme seemed like an anticlimax. But those who knew Thomas Jefferson learned to discount the vagaries to which he gave expression in conversation. As John Quincy Adams once remarked after listening to Jefferson's brilliant table talk, "Mr. Jefferson loves to excite wonder." Yet Thomas Jefferson, philosopher, was a very different person from Thomas Jefferson, practical politician. Paradoxical as it may seem, the new President, of all men of his day, was the least likely to undertake revolutionary policies; and it was just this acquaintance with Jefferson's mental habits which led his inveterate enemy, Alexander Hamilton, to advise his party associates to elect Jefferson rather than Burr.
The President broke with precedent, however, in one small particular. He was resolved not to follow the practice of his Federalist predecessors and address Congress in person. The President's speech to the two houses in joint session savored too much of a speech from the throne; it was a symptom of the Federalist leaning to monarchical forms and practices. He sent his address, therefore, in writing, accompanied with letters to the presiding officers of the two chambers, in which he justified this departure from custom on the ground of convenience and economy of time. "I have had principal regard," he wrote, "to the convenience of the Legislature, to the economy of their time, to the relief from the embarrassment of immediate answers on subjects not yet fully before them, and to the benefits thence resulting to the public affairs." This explanation deceived no one, unless it was the writer himself. It was thoroughly characteristic of Thomas Jefferson that he often explained his conduct by reasons which were obvious afterthoughts—an unfortunate habit which has led his contemporaries and his unfriendly biographers to charge him with hypocrisy. And it must be admitted that his preference for indirect methods of achieving a purpose exposed him justly to the reproaches of those who liked frankness and plain dealing. It is not unfair, then, to wonder whether the President was not thinking rather of his own convenience when he elected to address Congress by written message, for he was not a ready nor an impressive speaker. At all events, he established a precedent which remained unbroken until another Democratic President, one hundred and twelve years later, returned to the practice of Washington and Adams.
If the Federalists of New England are to be believed, hypocrisy marked the presidential message from the very beginning to the end. It began with a pious expression of thanks "to the beneficent Being" who had been pleased to breathe into the warring peoples of Europe a spirit of forgiveness and conciliation. But even the most bigoted Federalist who could not tolerate religious views differing from his own must have been impressed with the devout and sincere desire of the President to preserve peace. Peace! peace! It was a sentiment which ran through the message like the watermark in the very paper on which he wrote; it was the condition, the absolutely indispensable condition, of every chaste reformation which he advocated. Every reduction of public expenditure was predicated on the supposition that the danger of war was remote because other nations would desire to treat the United States justly. "Salutary reductions in habitual expenditures" were urged in every branch of the public service from the diplomatic and revenue services to the judiciary and the naval yards. War might come, indeed, but "sound principles would not justify our taxing the industry of our fellow-citizens to accumulate treasure for wars to happen we know not when, and which might not, perhaps, happen but from the temptations offered by that treasure."
On all concrete matters the President's message cut close to the line which Gallatin had marked out. The internal taxes should now be dispensed with and corresponding reductions be made in "our habitual expenditures." There had been unwise multiplication of federal offices, many of which added nothing to the efficiency of the Government but only to the cost. These useless offices should be lopped off, for "when we consider that this Government is charged with the external and mutual relations only of these States,... we may well doubt whether our organization is not too complicated, too expensive." In this connection Congress might well consider the Federal Judiciary, particularly the courts newly erected, and "judge of the proportion which the institution bears to the business it has to perform." * And finally, Congress should consider whether the law relating to naturalization should not be revised. "A denial of citizenship under a residence of fourteen years is a denial to a great proportion of those who ask it"; and "shall we refuse to the unhappy fugitives from distress that hospitality which savages of the wilderness extended to our fathers arriving in this land?"
* The studied moderation of the message gave no hint of
Jefferson's resolute purpose to procure the repeal of the
Judiciary Act of 1801. The history of this act and its
repeal, as well as of the attack upon the judiciary, is
recounted by Edward S. Corwin in "John Marshall and the
Constitution" in "The Chronicles of America."
The most inveterate foe could not characterize this message as revolutionary, however much he might dissent from the policies advocated. It was not Jefferson's way, indeed, to announce his intentions boldly and hew his way relentlessly to his objective. He was far too astute as a party leader to attempt to force his will upon Republicans in Congress. He would suggest; he would advise; he would cautiously express an opinion; but he would never dictate. Yet few Presidents have exercised a stronger directive influence upon Congress than Thomas Jefferson during the greater part of his Administration. So long as he was en rapport with Nathaniel Macon, Speaker of the House, and with John Randolph, Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means, he could direct the policies of his party as effectively as the most autocratic dictator. When he had made up his mind that Justice Samuel Chase of the Supreme Court should be impeached, he simply penned a note to Joseph Nicholson, who was then managing the impeachment of Judge Pickering, raising the question whether Chase's attack on the principles of the Constitution should go unpunished. "I ask these questions for your consideration," said the President deferentially; "for myself, it is better that I should not interfere." And eventually impeachment proceedings were instituted.
In this memorable first message, the President alluded to a little incident which had occurred in the Mediterranean, "the only exception to this state of general peace with which we have been blessed." Tripoli, one of the Barbary States, had begun depredations upon American commerce and the President had sent a small squadron for protection. A ship of this squadron, the schooner Enterprise, had fallen in with a Tripolitan man-of-war and after a fight lasting three hours had forced the corsair to strike her colors. But since war had not been declared and the President's orders were to act only on the defensive, the crew of the Enterprise dismantled the captured vessel and let her go. Would Congress, asked the President, take under consideration the advisability of placing our forces on an equality with those of our adversaries? Neither the President nor his Secretary of the Treasury seems to have been aware that this single cloud on the horizon portended a storm of long duration. Yet within a year it became necessary to delay further reductions in the naval establishment and to impose new taxes to meet the very contingency which the peace-loving President declared most remote. Moreover, the very frigates which he had proposed to lay up in the eastern branch of the Potomac were manned and dispatched to the Mediterranean to bring the Corsairs to terms.
CHAPTER III. THE CORSAIRS OF THE MEDITERRANEAN
Shortly after Jefferson's inauguration a visitor presented himself at the Executive Mansion with disquieting news from the Mediterranean. Captain William Bainbridge of the frigate George Washington had just returned from a disagreeable mission. He had been commissioned to carry to the Dey of Algiers the annual tribute which the United States had contracted to pay. It appeared that while the frigate lay at anchor under the shore batteries off Algiers, the Dey attempted to requisition her to carry his ambassador and some Turkish passengers to Constantinople. Bainbridge, who felt justly humiliated by his mission, wrathfully refused. An American frigate do errands for this insignificant pirate? He thought not! The Dey pointed to his batteries, however, and remarked, "You pay me tribute, by which you become my slaves; I have, therefore, a right to order you as I may think proper." The logic of the situation was undeniably on the side of the master of the shore batteries. Rather than have his ship blown to bits, Bainbridge swallowed his wrath and submitted. On the eve of departure, he had to submit to another indignity. The colors of Algiers must fly at the masthead. Again Bainbridge remonstrated and again the Dey looked casually at his guns trained on the frigate. So off the frigate sailed with the Dey's flag fluttering from her masthead, and her captain cursing lustily.