Talleyrand was not vindictive, but he had been twice mortified by the failure of his policy toward America. If his callous cheek could burn, it was still red with the blow which the last President of the United States had struck it; and no waters of oblivion could drown in his memory the cry of distress with which he had then begged for mercy. He had been again overthrown by the present President, and obliged to sell Louisiana, turn his back on the traditions of France, and shut up his far-reaching mind within the limit of his master’s artillery politics. Day by day he saw more clearly that soldiership, and not statecraft, was to guide the destinies of France, and that the new régime was but revolution without ideas. He had probably begun already to feel that the presence of his coldly silent face was becoming irksome to a will which revolted at the memory of a remonstrance. Talleyrand was corrupt,—perhaps he thought himself more corrupt than he was; but his political instincts were sounder than his private morality. He was incarnate conservatism; but he was wider-minded and more elevated in purpose than Napoleon. He had no faith in Napoleon’s methods, and was particularly hostile to his projects against Spain; but in respect to Monroe and his mission, Talleyrand’s ideas coincided with those of the Emperor; and when two such men marked out a victim, his chance of escape was small.
Talleyrand was not to blame that Monroe’s note remained unanswered before Monroe left Paris. About ten days after receiving it Talleyrand made to the Emperor a report on the subject, so cool and clear as to read like a mathematical demonstration.[224]
“The United States,” he began, “who wish to negotiate at Madrid under the auspices of France for the acquisition of Florida, have acquired little title to the good offices of the Emperor by the sharpness of tone and the want of civility (égards) with which they have conducted themselves toward Spain.”
After enumerating the threats and aggressions of the United States government against Spain during the last three years, the report disposed of the American claims, one by one, in few words. First, the spoliations, which had been formally abandoned by treaty; second, the claim for losses rising from the interruption of entrepôt at New Orleans, which “should be terminated by the treaty of cession,—the acquisition of an immense country might throw out of view some anterior losses;” finally, the claim to West Florida,—a species of attack on the Emperor’s dignity and good faith which merited some expression of his displeasure. To support this view, Talleyrand related the history of the French negotiation for West Florida and its failure, commenting on the manner in which the Americans had fabricated their claim, and coming at last to a conclusion studiously moderate, and evidently in harmony with the views of Hauterive as expressed to Monroe. Talleyrand rarely wrote such papers with his own hand; probably they were drawn up under his directions by Hauterive, or some other subordinate of the Office, in the form of suggestions rather than advice.
“According to such evidence, no one can suppose the United States to be convinced of the justice of their rights; and we are warranted in thinking that the Federal government, as a result of confidence in its own strength, of its ambition, and its ascendency in America, raises pretensions to a part of Florida in order to show itself afterward more exacting toward Spain. The Emperor will feel that justice requires him not to recognize such pretensions. If he should assist by his good offices an arrangement between the United States and Spain, he would wish good faith and impartiality for its base.
Only in case the United States should desist from their unjust pretensions to West Florida, and return to the forms of civility and decorum,—from which in their relations with each other governments should never depart,—could the Emperor allow himself to second at the Court of Madrid the project of acquisition of the two Floridas. Then perhaps the Emperor might think that this country is less suited to Spain now that it is separated from her other colonies, and that it is better suited to the United States because a part of their Western rivers cross the Floridas before flowing into the Gulf of Mexico; and finally, that Spain may see in her actual situation, and in the expenses entailed on her by the war, some motives for listening to the offers of the Federal government.”
Talleyrand had great need to insist on “the forms of civility and decorum from which governments should never depart”! Perhaps Talleyrand already foresaw the scene, said to have occurred some two years later, when Napoleon violently denounced him to his face as “a silk stocking stuffed with filth,” and the minister coldly retaliated by the famous phrase, “Pity that so great a man should be so ill brought up!” The task of teaching manners to Jefferson was not Napoleon’s view of his own functions in the world. He probably gave more attention to the concluding lines of the report, which suggested that he should decide whether a Spanish colony, made worthless by an arbitrary act of his own, could be usefully employed in sustaining his wars.
This report, dated Nov. 19, 1804, lay some weeks in the Emperor’s hands. Monroe left Paris for Madrid December 8, and still no answer had been sent to his note. He wrote from Bordeaux, December 16, a long and interesting letter to Madison, and resumed his journey. He could hardly have crossed the Bidassoa when Armstrong received from Talleyrand, December 21, the long-expected answer,[225] which by declaring the claim to West Florida emphatically unfounded struck the ground from under Monroe’s feet, and left him to repent at leisure his defiance of Talleyrand’s advice. Under the forms of perfect courtesy, this letter contained both sarcasm and menace. Talleyrand expressed curiosity to learn the result of Monroe’s negotiation:—
“This result his Imperial Majesty will learn with real interest. He saw with pain the United States commence their difficulties with Spain in an unusual manner, and conduct themselves toward the Floridas by acts of violence which, not being founded in right, could have no other effect but to injure the lawful owner. Such an aggression gave the more surprise to his Majesty because the United States seemed in this measure to avail themselves of their treaty with France as an authority for their proceedings, and because he could scarcely reconcile with the just opinion which he entertains of the wisdom and fidelity of the Federal government a course of proceedings which nothing can authorize toward a Power which has long occupied, and still occupies, one of the first ranks in Europe.”
Madison and Monroe, as well as Jefferson, in the course of their diplomacy had many mortifications to suffer; but they rarely received a reprimand more keen than this. Yet its sharpness was so delicately covered by the habitual forms of Talleyrand’s diplomacy that Americans, who were accustomed to hear and to use strong language, hardly felt the wound it was intended to inflict. After hearing Yrujo denounce an act of their government as an “atrocious libel,” they were not shocked to hear Talleyrand denounce the same act as one of violence which nothing could authorize. The force of Talleyrand’s language was more apparent to Godoy than to Madison, for it bore out every expression of Yrujo and Cevallos. The Prince of Peace received a copy of Talleyrand’s note at the moment when Monroe, after almost a month of weary winter travel, joined Pinckney, who had for six months been employed only in writing letter after letter begging for succor and support. Don Pedro Cevallos, with this public pledge in his hand, and with secret French pledges covering every point of the negotiation in his desk, could afford to meet with good humor the first visit of the new American plenipotentiary.