At that time a queer little Latin-American soldier of fortune, Francesco de Miranda, was living in London, playing about Downing Street, and conferring with Rufus King, the American Minister, who, next to Morris, was the ablest of Hamilton’s lieutenants. There was a possibility that at any time England might be forced to war on Spain should that country enter into the struggle on the side of France. The United States was then engaged in a quarrel with Spain. It was the idea of Miranda to enlist England and the United States in a grand revolutionary scheme in South America. He had discussed it with the British Ministers and with King, who was in correspondence with Hamilton. It involved an alliance between the English-speaking countries. This had been hinted at, as we have seen, long before, by Hamilton in a letter to Pickering, who was in favor of entering into such an alliance without delay. It was the plan of Miranda for England to furnish the ships, not exceeding twenty, men and money; the United States to supply no less than seven thousand soldiers, two thousand of these being cavalry. The lure of Florida and Cuba was held out to the United States.[1652] Here was a grand scheme of conquest that appealed irresistibly to Hamilton’s ambition for military glory.[1653] Entirely unknown to Adams or Washington, Hamilton had been in correspondence with the soldier of fortune, and in communication with him through King who was managing the London end of the affair. He made it plain to King that in the event of a successful issue he would want the United States to be the principal agency. ‘The command in this case would very naturally fall upon me, and I hope I should disappoint no favorable anticipations,’ he wrote. He thought the country not quite ripe for the enterprise, but ‘we ripen fast, and it may, I think, be rapidly brought to maturity if an efficient negotiation for the purpose is at once set on foot.’[1654] To Miranda he was writing that he would not embark in the affair ‘unless patronized by the Government of this country.’ An army of twelve thousand men was being raised. ‘General Washington has resumed his station at the head of our armies, I am second in command.’[1655] In the autumn of 1798, he was writing Senator Gunn on the importance of heavy cannon for fortifications and mortars in the case of a siege. ‘If we engage in war our game will be to attack where we can. France is not to be considered as separated from her ally. Tempting objects will be within our grasp.’[1656] In January, 1799, Hamilton was writing Otis in the same strain. ‘If universal empire is still to be the pursuit of France, what can tend to defeat that purpose better than to detach South America from Spain.... The Executive ought to be put in a situation to embrace favorable conjunctures for effecting that separation.’[1657] With all this Pickering was familiar and in sympathy, but Adams was in total ignorance. In time the subject was cautiously broached to him, to be rejected with the curt notation that we were not at war with Spain. But the record is too clear to leave the South American project out of consideration in seeking the reason for the intense desire for war—and a large army. Through all this period, Hamilton had visions of himself on horseback, at the head of troops in South America, with England as an ally.[1658]
Never had Hamilton felt himself so near the top of the world. When Congress met in the fall of 1798, he had a plan ready for a complete change in the formation of the Nation. This provided for eighty United States District Courts;[1659] the division of old States into new ones for any territory having as many as 100,000 people on the request of any considerable number—which would or could have made seven States out of Virginia; and for the extension and more rigid enforcement of the Sedition Law.
It was on this state of affairs that Adams, perplexed, harassed, worried by the serious illness of Abigail, aching under the humiliations visited upon him by the bosses of his party, meditated during the summer and early fall of 1798. And he thought seriously, too, on what Gerry had told him of the temper of France.
VI
This had almost persuaded him that a new mission to France was feasible, when a letter from Murray at The Hague, indicating uneasiness in Paris lest the United States be forced into an alliance with England, convinced him. Thus, about the middle of October, in a letter to Pickering, he submitted two questions for the consideration of the Cabinet. ‘Should there be a declaration of war?’ ‘Could proposals for further negotiations be made with safety, and should a new envoy be named, prepared to sail on assurances that he would be received?’
That letter fell like a bomb in the camp of the war conspirators. How Pickering must have scowled, and McHenry grumbled, and Wolcott shrugged his shoulders with a cynical grin when they sat down to meditate on its meaning. That more important personages were informed we may be sure. To that note, however, the Cabinet did not deign to reply. Had not Adams declared that he would never send another envoy unless solemnly assured that he would be received? No such assurance had come. Then why discuss it—even on the request of the President? However, a Message would have to be sent to Congress, and with Adams in a conciliatory frame of mind it was imperative that something definite await him on his arrival. Thus the conspirators sat down to the framing of a Message that would defeat the very purpose the letter had indicated. Hamilton and Pinckney were summoned to the conference. The result was a paragraph putting it squarely up to France to take the initiative in the matter of a renewal of negotiations. Wolcott, who, better than any of the others, could hide his treachery behind an ingratiating urbanity, was put forward as the author. Reaching the capital, Adams summoned his Cabinet to go over the Message. All went well until the fateful paragraph was reached, and instantly the keen eye of the suspicious old man caught its full significance. That, he would not accept, and an open struggle began. With earnestness and even heat the obnoxious paragraph was urged upon him, but Adams planted his feet and stood. He would rewrite that paragraph to conform to his personal view of the proprieties.[1660]
The Cabinet conspirators retired with the realization that there were dark days ahead. Adams in his substitute held forth the olive branch to the extent of declaring that no new envoy would be sent unless assurances were forthcoming that he would be properly received. Washington, Hamilton, and Pinckney, in uniforms, sat in the chamber when the Message was read. Two of these, at least, had grave forebodings. Then it was that the conspirators determined to override Adams by meeting his plan for negotiations with an immediate declaration of war. A caucus of the Federalists was called. The most brilliant and fiery orators were primed for the occasion. The proposal was made and supported with eloquence. The vote was taken, and by a small majority Adams triumphed over his foes. This was the most significant incident yet—it meant that Hamilton had lost control of the party councils.[1661] With that knowledge, Pickering made no further attempt to conceal his bitter hostility to his chief. Ordered to prepare a treaty that would be acceptable, he ignored the request. Asked to moderate his report on the Gerry dispatches, he refused. Among his associates he was bitterly resentful, and all this was carried to the President, who cunningly simulated ignorance of what was happening. Then, at length, came the desired assurances from Talleyrand, that an envoy would be ‘received as the representative of a great, free, powerful, and independent nation.’ That was enough. Adams was ready for action.
Thus, without further warning to the Cabinet, a messenger from the President appeared in the Senate on February 18th with the nomination of Murray as Minister to France. The Federalists were paralyzed. Jefferson, equally amazed, managed to conceal his pleasure over the evident discomfiture of his foes.[1662] Almost a week later he still suspected that the nomination had been sent ‘hoping the Federalists ... would accept the responsibility of rejecting it.’[1663] But the Federalist Senators had no such suspicion. Their faces betrayed their indignation. That night they met in caucus with their war paint on, and the decision was reached to defeat the confirmation. They still had the whip hand. If Adams would modify in some way—At any rate, he should remain in no doubt as to their opinion of his action. A committee, consisting of Bingham, Read, Sedgwick, Ross, and Stockton, was named to wait upon him, and a note was sent requesting an audience. The reply left them in no doubt as to the fighting mood of the man they sought to intimidate. He would be very glad to receive them ‘as gentlemen, at his house, at seven in the evening.’ At the appointed hour they were ushered into the audience room. No one was there. Then the door opened, and Adams, the picture of dignity on short legs, entered.
‘Gentlemen, I am glad to see you as friends and Senators; but as a committee interfering, as I think you are, with my executive duties, I cannot consent to receive you, and I protest against all such interference. I have a duty to execute, and so have you. I know and shall do mine, and I want neither your opinion nor aid in its execution.’
At which he politely asked them to be seated.