of demeanor was an inheritance from his French ancestors.[799] In person he was notably handsome, well built, with classical features; and his manners were those of the drawing-room and the Court. One who knew him has written that “in the times of Louis XIV he would have rivaled the most celebrated courtier; and under the dynasty of Napoleon he would have won the baton of France.”[800] Another has described him as “Lord Chesterfield, minus his powdered wig and knee buckles,” and as “all duke and all democrat.”[801] Even-tempered, seldom giving way to passion, rich in a sense of humor, he was one of the few statesmen of his time who could find an equal welcome in the drawing-rooms of Whigs or Democrats. He was intensely social, and prone to fritter away valuable time in polite conversation with the pretty women of the capital, albeit a perfect husband, ardently devoted to the accomplished daughter of Dr. Josiah Meigs, whom he had married.[802] Cultivated, polished, graceful, he was the perfect gentleman and conversationalist.

As an orator, he was one of the most consummate of his time, singularly free from the then prevailing vice of tearing a passion to tatters. With a glance of the eye, a movement of the finger, a mild gesture of the hand, he could convey subtle meaning, and in his expressions of contempt he required nothing more than a twitch of the Roman nose or a scornful curl of the lip.[803] His voice, rich and musical, was as carefully trained as that of a prima donna. One writer compared it to a trumpet, “clear and piercing in its tones, and yet as soft as an organ.”[804] Another, referring to “the constant stream of pure vocalization,” described it as “clear and resonant, always pleasant to the ear, and perfectly modulated.”[805] A contemporary writer for the “Boston Post” recorded that “the rhythmic accents of his voice suggested the musical notes of the Æolian harp.”[806]

By the common verdict of all contemporaries he was the most powerful debater of his day, and as the floor leader in the Senate, he was a tower of strength to the Administration before entering the Cabinet. A competent critic wrote that “as an impromptu debater to bring on an action or to cover a retreat, he never had a superior”; was “acute, full of resources, and ever prompt—impetuous as Murat in charge, adroit as Soult when flanked and outnumbered,” “haughty in the presence of enemies, and affable and winning among friends.”[807] Another thought him as adroit a debater as ever lived—“the Ajax Telamon of his party.”[808] When the fight was made against the confirmation of Van Buren, the Administration rested its case against the attacks of Clay and Webster on his presentation. In the campaign of 1832, it summoned him to make the one speech upon the tariff, and then dismissed the topic definitely. When, at a critical moment in the Nullification movement, Georgia was about to be swept into the fallacy under the leadership of Berrien, in a convention called specifically for that purpose, it was Forsyth who was dispatched to take charge of the Administration forces, and, under his brilliant management, the Nullifiers were defeated in the presence of Chancellor Harper, who had been summoned from South Carolina to witness the triumph of the sinister doctrine.[809] During the panic session, it was upon his sarcasm that the Jacksonians largely relied to minimize the effect of the exaggerated speeches and the lugubrious petitions and memorials.

And yet, ardent though he was in his partisanship, he commanded the affectionate esteem of his opponents by his manliness and fairness. When the “bargain” charge was made against Clay, it was Forsyth who demanded an investigation in the interest of justice, thereby incurring the displeasure of many of his associates. Even Adams found him fair.

In many respects he fails to fit in with the Jacksonian picture. He was temperamentally an aristocrat, like Livingston, rather cynical toward the masses, and not at all enamoured of the Kitchen Cabinet. The letter from his son-in-law during the first Cabinet dissensions, expressing the hope that Jackson would “send off Lewis and Kendall,” was doubtless written in the confidence that the sentiment would meet with the approval of the recipient.[810] But Forsyth was too much the man of the world to quarrel over details or personalities, and in the company of Van Buren and Livingston, he was able to forget the Kendalls and the Blairs.

When he entered the Cabinet, he assumed tasks that were to his taste. He prided himself particularly upon his diplomacy, and his experience as Minister to Madrid to negotiate the purchase of Florida justified his confidence. This position called for great address, finesse, a knowledge of human nature, and infinite patience, persuasiveness, and tact. The cunning Ferdinand, who needed the money, but was loath to part with his possession, was inclined to haggle, and, while history has given credit for the success of the negotiations to the instructions of Adams, it was the ingratiating qualities of Forsyth that finally overcame the scruples of the King.

That a President so impetuous as Jackson should have been served in foreign affairs by men of the conservatism and caution of Van Buren, Livingston, and Forsyth seems providential. One day, after dinner, Jackson sat before the fire in the White House smoking his pipe and outlining plans for radical action on the Oregon boundary dispute that would have made war inevitable. Forsyth, to whom he was speaking, observing his dangerous mood, simulated sympathy with his indignation. Then he began with quiet suggestions. Perhaps Jackson’s plan would seem to be a plan to force a fight. It might put the country in the wrong light. Then, too, he recalled that the offensive action proposed in Parliament had been dropped on the request of the British Minister for Foreign Affairs. Possibly the London Government did not sympathize with the faction seeking trouble. Again, a year’s notice would have to be given, preliminary to any action by the United States, and Jackson’s Administration would then be drawing to a close. Possibly it might be best to do nothing. The President sat a few moments looking into the fire, and then, slowly refilling and lighting his pipe, he concluded—“I reckon you’re right, Forsyth; at least you’re right now.”

Such was the man who, with the assistance of Edward Livingston, was to grapple with the French crisis.

II

On presenting his credentials, Livingston was warmly received by Louis Philippe, and assured that the necessary laws for the immediate execution of the treaty would be passed at the next meeting of the Chamber.[811] The French Government then understood the certain effect on American public opinion of a contemptuous treatment of its obligations. The peculiar action of the Chamber had been the subject of a conversation between the Duc de Broglie and James Buchanan, then in Paris, en route from his mission to St. Petersburg and this had been stressed.[812] Thanks to the clever Count Pozzo di Borgo, Russian Minister to France, Buchanan had been able to convey to Jackson an accurate idea of the difficulties—the weakness of the King’s Government and the hostility and cupidity of Dupin, the President of the Chamber.[813] Nor did it take Livingston long to discover the secret of the apathy of the King and his Ministers. Louis’s throne was a keg of dynamite, and he ruled in constant fear of the Deputies. He hoped to postpone an unpleasant duty until an auspicious moment. The treaty was described by the enemies of the dynasty as a bad bargain; the supporters of the old régime hated America because of the Revolution, and the Republicans hated the King because he was King. With Jackson manifesting more and more irritation, Livingston importuned the King, remonstrated with the Ministers, and labored with the members of the Chamber, and in all this he had the active coöperation of Lafayette. But after six months of conferences, the Chamber took adverse action.