CHAPTER VII.
“AT LAST GOT THE BETTER OF ALL DIFFIDENCE IN MY OWN CAPACITY.”
The popular clamour against the Government of Great Britain was now at its height. The very name of England was such a by-word, that even immigrants learnt to evade a direct confession that that was their native land,—unless it so happened that the vengeful Pitt, by the advice and verdict of twelve good men and true, had been the cause of expatriation. The marble statue of Chatham had been hanged and afterwards beheaded, and the effigies of King George II. had been solemnly desecrated. The name of George III. was seldom heard in Philadelphia without being graced by some contumelious epithet.
But there were not wanting signs, at the close of the year 1796, that the tide was turning in favour of reconciliation with the old country. The insolence of each successive French envoy was becoming too apparent—too ridiculous—for any but the blindest partisans to overlook; and the present representative of the French Convention, Adet, having announced that the Directory were highly incensed at the ratification of the British treaty, many reflecting Americans began to consider that “fraternity” was one of those good things of which they might have, on occasion, too much. The best of it was, that French privateering did quite as much harm as English, whilst the American prize-courts persisted in dealing fairly and impartially with all cases brought to their knowledge, irrespective of nationality.
A certain estrangement naturally grew between the two republics, and the high-toned conduct of Adet—more like that of a spoiled child than anything worthy of his dignified office—was highly characteristic of the then rulers of the French nation. The American administration was first startled by reading, in the newspaper, a note from the French Convention which had not yet been submitted to the Secretary of State—a document which, indeed, it was in their discretion to publish at all. The ground of complaint being the new position of English and American merchant-vessels flowing from the new treaty, the answer of the Secretary of State was by no means conciliatory. After a few days’ consideration, therefore, Mons. Adet informed the American Government (and the public by means of an advertisement[1] in the Aurora!) that he “suspends himself from his functions” as minister-plenipotentiary of the French Republic. This measure, he subsequently adds, is “not to be considered in the light of a rupture, but as a mark of the sense of injury” felt by the Convention … “which is to last until they can obtain satisfaction.”
Now, a jealousy of British supremacy, and a watchful eye upon the dealings of that perfidious nation, were a very proper state of consciousness for a patriotic Frenchman; but the attempt to enforce, time after time, French dictation, was quite another thing. And when, a few months after, the fact came out that three American envoys to Paris were refused the usual diplomatic courtesies, because they refused to pledge the present of a large sum of money to the impecunious Directory, it is no wonder that coolness and indifference began to spread, on the part of Americans generally, toward the sister Republic.[2] In the course of two or three years, contrariwise, England began to occupy that place in the hearts of the American people from which she had been excluded for a quarter of a century.
There were many circumstances which contributed to heal the differences between the two countries; but the failure of French intrigue, and the steady consistency of the Federalist statesmen, were the leading factors. It is clear that Washington had great suspicion of the motives of France, and was anxious to control the tendency of many of his fellow-citizens to be led away by the delusive fancies of that regenerated country. His farewell address to the people of the United States (one of the noblest papers of the kind ever penned) counsels them to steer clear of permanent alliances with other nations, especially with those of Europe, as their interests could have but a remote relation one with another. He adds,—
“Foreign influence is one of the most baneful foes of republican government.… Excessive partiality for one foreign nation, and excessive dislike of another, cause those whom they actuate to see danger only on one side, and serve to veil and even to second the arts of influence on the other. Real patriots, who may resist the intrigues of the favourite, are liable to become suspected and odious, while its tools and dupes usurp the applause and confidence of the people to surrender their interests.”[3]