Meanwhile General Smith, who had not resented the repudiation of his niece by the Emperor, and to whom Madison showed the offensive letter, undertook to soothe the irritation. “He says,” wrote Madison in his next letter to the President,[73] “that Turreau speaks with the greatest respect, and even affection, toward the Administration; and such are the dispositions which it is certain he has uniformly manifested to me.” Upon these assurances Madison toned down the severity he had intended.
Turreau had resided hardly six months in the United States before he announced to Talleyrand the conviction of all American politicians that any war would end in driving from office the party which made it:[74]—
“To such an extent is the actual Administration convinced of this fact, that it allows itself to be outraged every day by the English, and accepts all the humiliations they care to impose; and notwithstanding the contempt generally felt here for Spain, against whom a war was last year quite openly provoked, the members of the United States government have not dared to undertake it, although sure of beginning it with public opinion in their favor. And no one need think that this indisposition to war depends only on the personal character and the philanthropic principles of Mr. Jefferson, for it is shared by all the party leaders, even by those who have most pretensions and well-founded hopes to succeed the actual President,—such as Mr. Madison.”
Turreau’s sketch of American character and ambition was long and interesting, and suggested the vulnerable point where France should throw her strength against this new people. Neither as a military nor as a naval power did he think the United States formidable. Their government made no concealment of its weakness:—
“They especially lack trained officers. The Americans are to-day the boldest and the most ignorant navigators in the universe. In brief, it seems to me that, considering the weakness of the military constitution, the Federal government, which makes no concealment of this weakness, will avoid every serious difference which might lead to aggression, and will constantly show itself an enemy to war. But does the system of encroachment which prevails here agree with a temper so pacific? Certainly not, at first sight; and yet unless circumstances change, the United States will succeed in reconciling the contradiction. To conquer without war is the first fact in their politics (Conquérir sans guerre, voilà les premiers faits politiques.)”
These reflections were written early in July, 1805, before the President and his Cabinet had begun to discuss Monroe’s failure and the policy of a Spanish war, and more than three months before the President wholly abandoned the thought of warlike measures. Turreau’s vision was keen, but he had no excuse for short-sightedness. Madison made little effort to disguise his objects or methods.
“I took occasion to express to Mr. Madison,” wrote Turreau in the same despatch, “my astonishment that the schemes of aggrandizement which the United States government appeared to have, should be always directed toward the south, while there were still in the north important and convenient territories, such as Canada, Nova Scotia, etc. ‘Doubtless!’ replied the secretary, ‘but the moment has not yet come! When the pear is ripe it will fall of itself.’”
Had Turreau asked why, then, Madison gave so violent a shaking to the Florida pear-tree, Madison must have answered, with the same candor, that he did so because he supposed the Florida pear to be ripe. The phrase was an admission and an invitation,—an admission that Florida would have been left alone if Spain had been as strong as England; and an invitation to Turreau to interpose with safety the sword of France. Turreau could not doubt the effect of his own blunt interference. So confident had the new French minister already become, in July, 1805, that he not only told Madison to stop these petty larcenies of Spanish property, but also urged Napoleon to take the Floridas and Cuba into his own hand solely to check American aggression. “I believe that France alone can arrest these American enterprises and baffle (déjouer) their plan.”
Had Turreau’s discipline stopped there, much might have been said in his favor; but in regard to still another matter he used expressions and made demands such as Madison never yet had heard from a diplomatic agent, although the secretary’s experience was already considerable. Neither Yrujo nor Merry had succeeded in giving to their remonstrances or requests the abruptness of Napoleon’s style.
The Federalist newspapers during Jefferson’s first term had found so little reason for charging him with subservience to France, that this old and stale reproach had nearly lost its weight. Neither the New England merchants whom France had plundered, and whose claims Jefferson consented to withdraw, nor the British government or British newspapers had thought it worth their while to press the charge that Jefferson was led astray by love or fear of Napoleon or the Empire. Not until the winter of 1805–1806 did the doctrine of French influence recover a certain share of strength; but as John Randolph and his friends, who detested Madison, were outraged by the conduct of France in Spanish affairs, so Timothy Pickering and the whole body of Federalists, who hated the South and the power which rested on the dumb vote of slaves, were exasperated by the conduct of France in regard to their trade with St. Domingo. In both cases Madison was the victim.