Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.

by Benson John Lossing

The speaker then drew a picture of the national disgrace, in the eyes of the world, that would be caused by a breach of national faith; and he appealed with inexpressible power to the hearts and understandings of the members, on this all-important consideration. He probed, with keen and searching precision, the Jesuitical position assumed by the house, in disclaiming any participation in the treaty-making power, and yet claiming the right to decide upon the merits of a treaty, and to defeat its execution. He then dwelt upon the evils that would accrue, in the form of a loss to the mercantile community, of five millions of dollars promised in payment for spoliations; and the renewal of Indian wars on the frontier, if the western posts should not be given up.

“On this theme,” he said, “my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for them, if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal, I would swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance, it should reach every log-house beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, wake from your false security— your cruel dangers; your more cruel apprehensions are soon to be torn open again. In the daytime your path through the woods will be ambushed; the darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You are a father—the blood of your sons shall fatten your cornfields. You are a mother—the war-whoop shall waken the sleep of the cradle.

“On this subject you need not expect any deception on your feelings. It is a spectacle of horror which can not be overdrawn. If you have nature in your hearts, they will speak a language, compared with which, all I have said, or can say, will be poor and frigid.... By rejecting the posts, we light the savage fires—we bind the victims. This day we undertake to render account to the widows and orphans our decision will make—to the wretches that will be roasted at the stake—to our country—and I do not deem it too serious to say, to conscience and to God. We are answerable; and if duty be anything more than a word of imposture, if conscience be not a bugbear, we are preparing to make ourselves as wretched as our country....

“The idea of war has been treated as a bugbear. This levity is, at least, unseasonable, and, most of all, unbecoming some who resort to it. Who has forgotten the philippics of 1794? The cry then was, reparation—no envoy—no treaty—no tedious delays. Now, it seems, the passion subsides, or, at least, the hurry to satisfy it. Great Britain, they say, will not wage war upon us.

“In 1794, it was urged by those who now say, no war, that if we built frigates, or resisted the piracies of Algiers, we could not expect peace. Now they give excellent comfort truly. Great Britain has seized our vessels and cargoes to the amount of millions; she holds the posts; she interrupts our trade, say they, as a neutral nation; and these gentlemen, formerly so fierce for redress, assure us, in terms of the sweetest consolation, Great Britain will bear all this patiently. But let me ask the late champions of our rights, will our nation bear it? Let others exult because the aggressor will let our wrongs sleep for ever. Will it add, it is my duty to ask, to the patience and quiet of our citizens, to see their rights abandoned? Will not the disappointment of their hopes, so long patronized by the government, now in the crisis of their being realized, convert all their passions into fury and despair?...

“Look again at this state of things. On the seacoast, vast losses uncompensated; on the frontier, Indian war and actual encroachment on our territory; everywhere discontent; resentments tenfold more fierce because they will be more impotent and humbled; national discord and abasement. The disputes of the old treaty of 1783, being left to rankle, will revive the almost extinguished animosities of that period. Wars in all countries, and most of all in such as are free, arise from the impetuosity of the public feelings. The despotism of Turkey is often obliged by clamor to unsheathe the sword. War might, perhaps, be delayed, but could not be prevented. The causes of it would remain, would be aggravated, would be multiplied, and soon become intolerable. More captures, more impressments would swell the list of our wrongs, and the current of our rage. I make no calculation of the arts of those whose employment it has been, on former occasions, to fan the fire; I say nothing of the foreign money and emissaries that might foment the spirit of hostility, because this state of things will naturally run to violence. With less than their former exertion they would be successful.

“Will our government be able to temper and restrain the turbulence of such a crisis? The government, alas! will be in no capacity to govern. A divided people, and divided councils! Shall we cherish the spirit of peace, or show the energies of war? Shall we make our adversary afraid of our strength, or dispose him, by the measures of resentment and broken faith, to respect our rights? Do gentlemen rely on the state of peace because both nations will be more disposed to keep it? because injuries and insults still harder to endure, will be mutually offered?...

“Is there anything in the prospect of the interior state of the country, to encourage us to aggravate the dangers of a war? Would not the shock of that evil produce another, and shake down the feeble and then unbraced structure of our government? Is this a chimera? Is it going off the ground of matter of fact to say, the rejection of the appropriation proceeds upon the doctrine of a civil war of the departments? Two branches have ratified a treaty, and we are going to set it aside. How is this disorder in the machine to be rectified? While it exists its movements must stop; and when we talk of a remedy, is that any other than the formidable one of a revolutionary interposition of the people? And is this, in the judgment even of my opposers, to execute, to preserve the constitution, and the public order? Is this the state of hazard, if not of convulsion, which they can have the courage to contemplate and to praise; or beyond which their penetration can reach and see the issue? They seem to believe, and they act as if they believed, that our union, our peace, our liberty, are invulnerable and immortal; as if our happy state was not to be disturbed by our dissentions, and that we are not capable of falling from it by our unworthiness. Some of them have, no doubt, better nerves and better discernment than mine. They can see the bright aspects and happy consequences of all this array of horrors. They can see intestine discords, our government disorganized, our wrongs aggravated, multiplied, and un-redressed, peace with dishonor, or war without justice, union, or resources, in 'the calm lights of mild philosophy.' ...

“Let me cheer the mind, weary, no doubt, and ready to despond on this prospect, by presenting another which it is in our power to realize. Is it possible for a real American to look at the prosperity of this country without some desire for its continuance, without some respect for the measures which, many will say, produced, and all will confess, have preserved it? Will he not feel some dread that a change of system will reverse the scene? The well-grounded fears of our citizens, in 1794, were removed by the treaty, but are not forgotten. Then they deemed war nearly inevitable, and would not this adjustment have been considered, at that day, as a happy escape from the calamity? The great interest and the general desire of our people was to enjoy the advantages of neutrality. This instrument, however misrepresented, affords Americans that inestimable security. The cause of our disputes are either cut up by the roots, or referred to a new negotiation after the end of the European war. This was gaining everything. This, alone, would justify the engagements of the government. For, when the fiery vapors of war lowered in the skirts of our horizon, all our wishes were concentrated in this one, that we might escape the desolation of the storm. This treaty, like a rainbow on the edge of the cloud, marked to our eyes the space where it was raging, and afforded, at the same time, the sure prognostic of fair weather. If we reject it the vivid colors will grow pale; it will be a baleful meteor, portending tempest and war.

“Let us not hesitate, then, to agree to this appropriation to carry it into faithful execution. Thus we shall save the faith of our nation, secure its peace, and diffuse the spirit of confidence and enterprise that will augment its prosperity. The progress of wealth and improvement is wonderful, and some will think, too rapid. The field for exertion is fruitful and vast; and if peace and good government should be preserved, the acquisitions of our citizens are not so pleasing as the proofs of their industry, as the instruments of their future success. The rewards of exertion go to augment its power. Profit is every hour becoming capital. The vast crop of our neutrality is all seed-wheat, and is sown again, to swell, almost beyond calculation, the future harvest of prosperity. In this progress what seems to be fiction is found to fall short of experience.... When I come to the moment of deciding the vote, I start back with dread from the edge of the pit into which we are plunging. In my view, even the minutes I have spent in expostulation, have their value, because they protract the crisis, and the short period in which alone we may resolve to escape it.