As we have observed, Washington enjoyed the pleasures of retirement and partial repose at Mount Vernon, for about two months in the summer of 1796. Yet he was not wholly free from the cares and anxieties incident to his official station. His Farewell Address to his countrymen, as we have seen, was then carefully prepared for the public consideration; but subjects of more immediate importance, connected with national affairs, demanded and received his attention.
Jay's treaty had relieved the country from all apprehension of immediate war with Great Britain, and, at the same time, it had increased the unfriendly feeling between the government of the United States and that of France. The latter had discovered that Washington's original proclamation of neutrality, and his efforts to preserve that position for his government, were sincere, and not, as had been hoped, mere tricks to deceive the British cabinet; and the French Directory, and their partisans in America, were disappointed and greatly chagrined.
For a long time the administrators of government in France, exercising a most intolerant and relentless despotism, had been jealous of every act of friendship, or even of leniency performed toward Great Britain by the Americans; and Mr. Monroe, an avowed partisan of France, was received, at first with distrust. But with singular adroitness, discretion, and good judgment, Monroe managed to place himself, very speedily, high in the estimation of the government to which he was accredited. We have already noticed, incidentally, his presentation of the American flag to the National Convention of France, and the reciprocity of the compliment by M. Adet, almost a year afterward. The inauguration of these courtesies by Monroe at Paris, had been immediately followed by a public display of national amity, in which the representative of the United States so thoroughly committed his government to a political alliance with France, as to make Washington's plan of neutrality appear like a piece of diplomatic finesse. It was ordained that the American minister should be formally received by the French government, in a public manner. He was, accordingly, introduced into the National Convention, where he presented a written address, glowing with the warmest expressions of friendship for France and the French people, and admiration of their magnanimity, their fortitude, their valor, and their wisdom.
To this the president of the convention replied, with even greater enthusiasm. He alluded to the union of the two governments, as “not merely a diplomatic alliance,” but as “the sweetest, the most frank fraternity”—“for ever indissoluble—for ever the dread of tyrants, the safeguard of the liberties of the world, and the preserver of all the social and philanthropic virtues.
“In bringing to us, citizen,” continued the president, “the pledge of this union, so dear to us, you could not fail to be received with the liveliest emotions. Five years ago, a usurper of the sovereignty of the people would have received you with the pride which belongs to vice, thinking it much to have given to the minister of a free people some token of an insolent protection. But to-day, the sovereign people themselves, by the organ of their faithful representatives, receive you; and you see the tenderness, the effusion of soul, that accompanies the simple and touching ceremony! I am impatient to give you the fraternal embrace, which I am ordered to give in the name of the French people. Come and receive it in the name of the American people, and let this spectacle complete the annihilation of an impious coalition of tyrants.”
At this affectionate appeal Monroe stepped forward, and received the president's “national embrace,” and afterward, the warm congratulations of the assembly. He was offered the confiscated house of one of the nobility as a place of residence; and, for a few days, he was the idol of the French people. Then came the less ethereal operations of the grave business of his office; and when the pageant was all over—the apotheosis completed—Mr. Monroe found himself afflicted with many cares, and assailed by many annoyances. Clamorous American ship-masters and merchants flocked to his diplomatic residence, and preferred urgent claims; some for cargoes which they had been compelled to sell to the French government, and some asking the liquidation of dishonored bills, drawn by French agents in America, in payment for provision shipped to France, or the French West Indies. In many forms complaints and claims were made by Monroe's countrymen upon the French government, and the minister found a host of unpleasant duties to perform, for he did not wish to break the charm of that “sweetest, most frank fraternity,” to the preservation of which he had so recently pledged his constituents. He, therefore, made some extraordinary concessions in relation to claims founded on breaches of the French treaty, in the seizure of enemy's goods in American vessels. He asked the French government to rescind the order authorizing such seizures, not because it would be just—be in accordance with treaty provisions—but because it would be for the pecuniary and commercial interests of France to do so. He was even so careful not to wound French pride, as to assure that government that he had no instructions to complain of that order as a breach of the treaty; and that, should it be thought productive of real benefit to France, the American government and people would bear it, not only with patience, but with pleasure.
When intelligence of Monroe's theatrical performances at his reception reached his government, it produced much mortification, and the secretary of state, in an official letter, suggested to him that the American cabinet expected nothing more than a private reception, and an oral speech; and reminded him that the government he was sent to represent was neutral, and that such a display might be offensive to other governments, especially to those of England and Spain, with both of whom important negotiations were then in progress. He was also reminded that circumstances might arise, when it would be necessary “to explain away or disavow an excess of fervor, so as to reduce it down to the cool system of neutrality.”
The French government, evidently insincere in their “national embraces,” and believing the other party to be equally so, determined to test the friendship of their allies. At that time the republic was heavily pressed with pecuniary embarrassments, and the United States were asked for a loan to relieve that pressure. Monroe, without the least particle of authority, unhesitatingly expressed his opinion, that his government would give to their dear ally any aid in their power to bestow; and he suggested three sources whence money might be obtained, namely: the separate states, the general government, and individuals. He went so far as to enter into a formal agreement concerning the equivalent in services, which France should give for such pecuniary aid, the most important of which was an active alliance in seizing the western posts still held by the British, and the conquest of the Louisiana country, inhabited by the French and Spanish, west of the Mississippi. France was also to assist the United States through a war with England and Spain, if one should occur. This would practically place the American republic in the position of an entire dependent upon the European one—a position utterly unnecessary, and incompatible with the interests and dignity of a free and independent nation.
Mr. Monroe urged his government to loan France five millions of dollars, in order to secure her good will and active alliance. But his proposition met with no favor at home, except among the ultra partisans of the French republic; and he was officially reminded that it had been, and still was, the invariable policy of the president to have his country as independent as possible of every nation upon the face of the earth—a policy which he had pursued from the beginning; “not assumed now for the first time, but wise at all times, and certain, if steadily pursued, to protect his country from the effects of commotions in Europe.”
Jay's mission, from the beginning, had produced uneasiness and distrust in the diplomatic circles of France and Spain, and perplexed Monroe and his political friends. Giving greater latitude to the spirit of his instructions than their letter could possibly warrant, Monroe assured the French government that Jay's authority was strictly limited to a demand of reparation for injuries; and this assurance produced the impression that Jay had no authority to conclude a treaty of navigation and commerce. Not more than a fortnight after Monroe made these assurances, intelligence came that a treaty of commerce had actually been negotiated with the British government, and signed by the contracting parties.