“In any case,” said he, “the Court of Madrid would appear to have no ground for the fear it shows that the United States may make use of their possession of Louisiana in order to form settlements on the northwest coast of America. Whatever boundary may be agreed upon between Spain and the United States, the line will necessarily be so far removed from the western coast of America as to relieve the Court of Madrid from any anxiety on that score.”
Yet no one knew better than Talleyrand the instincts of the American people, and their ambition to use the entire continent for their experiments! He knew that the First Consul, by his instructions to Laussat, had given, so far as he could, the authority of both French and Spanish governments to the claim of the United States that Louisiana stretched westwardly to the Rio Bravo, and on the northwest indefinitely to a line yet to be fixed. He knew that Laussat, who hated the Spaniards more than he did the Americans, had betrayed the secret. If Talleyrand hoped to repress American ambition, he must have calculated on the effects of force or fear, or he must have been overwhelmed by the immensity of the scale on which the Americans were acting. The doctrine of contiguity, on which the United States could rest their most plausible claim to Oregon, was as valid then as it ever afterward became; and if Talleyrand did not appreciate it, Godoy proved himself the more sagacious statesman.
By Sept. 1, 1804, these precautionary measures were completed, and Talleyrand could wait for the coming of Monroe and Armstrong. About the middle of October Monroe appeared in Paris. His instructions, sent from Washington before the news of Pinckney’s extravagances had reached America, obliged him to insist upon the right to West Florida as “a sine quâ non, and no price to be given for it;”[216] to insist, also, upon the right to Texas, but with a border-land to be kept unsettled for thirty years; and to offer two million dollars for East Florida beyond the Perdido. The Cabinet then for the first time decided to commit itself to the doctrine that West Florida was a part of the Louisiana purchase,[217] alleging as its ostensible reason, not so much the abstract justice of the title, as the wish to avoid acknowledging Spanish land-grants made in Florida since the Louisiana cession.
“It is indispensable,” wrote Madison, April 15, 1804, “that the United States be not precluded from such a construction [of the treaty],—first, because they consider the right as well founded; secondly and principally, because it is known that a great proportion of the most valuable lands between the Mississippi and the Perdido have been granted by Spanish officers since the cession was made by Spain. These illicit speculations cannot otherwise be frustrated than by considering the territory as included in the cession made by Spain.”
The hope that Spain might submit to these concessions rested on the belief that she could not afford to quarrel with the United States. Foreseeing that she must soon be drawn into the war with England, the President from the first looked forward to that event, believing that the same reasons which as he supposed had forced Bonaparte to cede Louisiana, must reconcile Spain to the cession of Florida.
“Should she be engaged in the war,” wrote Madison to Monroe, “or manifestly threatened with that situation, she cannot fail to be the more anxious for a solid accommodation on all points with the United States, and the more willing to yield, for that purpose, to terms which, however proper in themselves, might otherwise be rejected by her pride and misapplied jealousy.”
The first part of this calculation was realized even before Monroe quitted London. Oct. 1, 1804, a British squadron seized the Spanish treasure-ships on their voyage from America; and no one doubted that Spain must declare war. She did so a few weeks later, December 12, before Monroe reached Madrid. The effect of this new disaster on what Madison called her “misapplied jealousy” remained to be seen.
The only published record of Monroe’s stay in Paris is contained in a note dated Nov. 8, 1804, which he persuaded Livingston to convey to Talleyrand. Although Livingston’s temper was peculiar, and his diplomacy under ordinary circumstances restless, he was well acquainted with the men who governed France; and he had little faith in another man’s ability to do what he had himself attempted in vain. That Livingston should be jealous of Monroe’s presence in Paris was natural; for the American minister at London was not accredited to the Emperor, and his interference could do nothing but harm to the actual minister at Paris. When asked to act as medium for Monroe’s proposed communications with Talleyrand, Livingston made objections. Not until Armstrong arrived, about November 1, did the ministers agree upon the terms of the note, and send it to its address. Monroe had then been one month absent from London.
Nothing could be more courteous than the tone of Monroe’s letter, which ignored Pinckney’s conduct, and breathed a spirit of benevolence.[218] The object of writing was to ask the Emperor’s good offices in support of the negotiation to be opened at Madrid; and in order to reach this end, Monroe touched on the story of his present mission, recounting the causes of the previous quarrel with Spain, and alluding to West Florida, the spoliation claims, the claims for damages rising from Morales’s occlusion of the Mississippi, and to the Mobile Act, which, as Monroe admitted, was intended to authorize the taking immediate possession of Florida. The only offensive idea suggested in the note was that the Spanish occupation of Florida implied an aggression against the United States, “which tends to provoke hostility and lead to war.”
The note combining the diplomacy of three ministers was sent; and the three diplomatists waited in fear of what would follow, dreading nothing so much as Talleyrand’s answer. They had reason to know that it would be unfavorable, and that at least on the question of West Florida Talleyrand had already committed himself against the United States. They were told, too, that on reading their note Napoleon showed great irritation. Besides this, they had other causes of alarm. Within three days after Monroe’s arrival at Paris, Marbois, his best friend among Napoleon’s ministers, told him that the question was one of money:[219] “Such was the situation of Spain at this time, that he was persuaded if we would make her suitable pecuniary accommodations we might succeed.” M. Hauterive, another gentleman within the circle of government, soon afterward repeated the remark: “Spain must cede territory; the United States must pay money.” Care was taken to let Monroe understand that once this principle should be agreed upon, France would cause the negotiation to be transferred to Paris. Armstrong soon afterward wrote to Madison, alluding to the story in regard to the Emperor:[220]—