In spite of success that should have filled his cup of ambition to overflowing, Livingston was far from satisfied. Neither the President nor the Secretary of State liked him; and to the latter he was a possible rival, who might become dangerous if the authority of President Jefferson, which was Madison’s great support, should wane, and should New York claim the presidency from Virginia. Monroe distrusted Livingston, believing him to grasp at the whole credit of the Louisiana treaty, and to be intriguing to withdraw the Florida negotiation from Monroe’s hands by causing its transfer from Madrid to Paris.[205] The Secretary of State was perpetually annoyed by his minister. Sometimes Livingston experimented on Spain, sometimes on England. At one moment he sent to the First Consul an indiscreet memorial that brought a remonstrance from the British government; at another he fell into a virulent quarrel with the American claims commissioners under the Louisiana treaty. His claims convention was admitted to be full of mistakes which he did not himself attempt to defend, while the American consul at Paris declared that his conduct in regard to certain claims was dictated by blind and insatiable vanity, if not by corrupt and criminal motives.[206]
Mistakes cost Livingston little serious annoyance; but although he could afford to disregard British complaints or Consul Skipwith’s abuse, or even the severe criticisms of the claims commissioners, he must have had more than human patience to sit quiet under the superiority of Monroe. He knew that whatever diplomatic credit was due for the Louisiana negotiation rightly belonged to him, and that Monroe had no claim to any part of it, except that of supporting and approving what was already accomplished; yet he saw the Administration and the public attribute the chief honor to his rival. He showed his wounded self-esteem in protests and statements to which the world was deaf. His old Federalist friends took malicious pleasure in telling him that his triumph had offended the vanity of Jefferson.[207]
Consoling himself with the reflection that he should insist on returning to America in the autumn of 1804, Livingston endured these annoyances as he best could, and found in the society of Robert Fulton and Joel Barlow the hope of greater fame and profit than political distinctions could possibly bring. While he watched and encouraged Fulton’s experiments with the steamboat, clouds gathered more and more thickly round his diplomatic path. The First Consul had never inspired him with much confidence; but after the rupture of the Peace of Amiens, in May, 1803, Bonaparte’s acts became more and more alarming to every Republican. He passed the autumn of 1803 in preparations for a descent on England. He next effected, in February, 1804, the arrest, trial, and banishment of Moreau. The seizure and arbitrary execution of the Duc d’Enghien followed a month afterward, and finally, in May, 1804, the proclamation of the Empire.
In the midst of these events Livingston received from home the letter already quoted, in which Madison told the story of the Mobile Act, and complained of Yrujo’s violent conduct. “The correspondence is chiefly of importance,” said the Secretary of State, “as it urges the expediency of cultivating the disposition of the French government to take our side of the question.” Livingston was personally rather inclined to the opposite course. He had little faith in obtaining favors from the Emperor, and no disposition to place the United States in the attitude of begging for them; but he had not the chief share in shaping action. A few weeks after receiving these instructions, when he heard of the quasi war which Pinckney in July declared at Madrid, Livingston was already expecting the arrival of his successor, General Armstrong, in the autumn.
The news from Spain reaching London, startled Monroe from his repose. As soon as he could make ready, Oct. 8, 1804, placing his legation in charge of a secretary, Monroe left London. While he waited in Paris to sound the disposition of Talleyrand, General Armstrong arrived to relieve Livingston. Thus it happened that three American ministers—Monroe, Livingston, and Armstrong—met at Paris in November, 1804, to cope with Talleyrand, in whose hands lay the decision of Jefferson’s quarrel with Spain.
The question to be decided was whether the United States government should disregard its obligations to Napoleon and act independently, or whether the President should defer to the opinion of Talleyrand and to the Emperor’s will. The story of diplomatic adventure, which has so often an interest beyond what could be supposed possible from the contact of three or four quiet and elderly gentlemen meeting about a green table, or writing letters inordinately long, owes that interest in most cases to a hope or a despair, to a mystery or an elucidation; but Monroe’s labors at that time offered little mystery, and less hope. Although he did not know all that was happening behind the diplomatic curtain, he knew enough to be aware that his negotiation for Florida, on the ground chosen by the President, was hopeless.
Three months had passed since Cevallos made his appeal to Talleyrand for help. “If the Emperor would but say a word,” Cevallos urged;[208] “if he would make the United States understand that he will not be pleased at seeing them abuse their advantages,”—this would put an end to insults like the Mobile Act and Pinckney’s threats. Talleyrand’s answer could not be doubtful. Angry with Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and Livingston for their attack on West Florida, into which his own and his master’s finessing had drawn them; still angrier with Pinckney for the burlesque of Napoleonic manners with which he alarmed the government of Spain; hostile at heart to Bonaparte’s ultimate schemes against the Spanish empire, but determined that if Spain were to be plundered France should have the booty; willing to repay a part of the humiliation and disappointment which the United States had twice inflicted upon him,—the instant the Spanish ambassador at Paris brought the Mobile Act to his notice, Talleyrand assured him with emphasis that the Emperor would formally oppose such pretensions on the part of the United States;[209] and when Pinckney’s conduct was reported to him, with the request that the Emperor would instruct his minister at Washington to act in concert with Yrujo in order to prevent a rupture, Talleyrand hastened to meet the wish of the Spanish government.
Cevallos made other requests. After narrating the history of Pinckney’s claims convention, he touched briefly on the claim for French spoliations which the Americans so warmly urged against Spain, and he asserted that Lucien Bonaparte had given an assurance that these claims were covered by the Franco-American treaty of 1800, and therefore could not be pressed against Spain. He complained that Pinckney had used “language the most gross, the most insulting, and, so to speak, the most audacious and menacing.” He called attention to the dangers which would result from allowing the boundary of Louisiana to be extended toward either Florida or Mexico; and he begged “that orders might be sent to the French commissioner Laussat in Louisiana, enjoining him to restrain the pretensions of the Americans regarding the limits of that province, and not to show himself favorable to the wishes of the Americans, as there is reason to suspect him of doing, according to his correspondence with the Spanish commissioner.”
Laussat’s offence consisted in telling the American commissioners that his instructions fixed the Rio Bravo as the western boundary of Louisiana. Cevallos made no protest to Talleyrand against the truth of Laussat’s statement. He tacitly admitted that Laussat was right; but he invited Talleyrand to join in depriving the United States of Texas, which the United States had bought, and the price of which they had paid to France. That Godoy should conspire for this purpose was natural, for he had no reason to respect the Louisiana cession, and he had pledged his honor in no way to the United States; but that he should ask Napoleon to deprive the United States of property which Napoleon himself had bought from Spain and sold to the United States, and for which he had received some millions of coin for his personal objects and ambitions, showed that the Prince of Peace understood the characters of Bonaparte and Talleyrand.
Talleyrand, who held that Bonaparte had made a mistake in selling Louisiana to the United States, and who looked upon himself as having no responsibility for the transaction, was glad to restrict what he thought the evil that had been done. Taking the complaints of Spain to the Emperor, he received permission to do what Spain requested; and during the month of August he sent from the Foreign Office a series of documents that disposed for the time of any hopes still nourished by Jefferson’s diplomacy.