“In that case his Majesty, in pursuance of the disposition of which he has given such signal proofs, will lose no time in sending a minister to America, furnished with the necessary instructions and powers for bringing this unfortunate dispute to a conclusion consistent with the harmony subsisting between Great Britain and the United States; but in order to avoid the inconvenience which has arisen from the mixed nature of your instructions, that minister will not be empowered to entertain, as connected with this subject, any proposition respecting the search of merchant-vessels.”
Monroe replied,[30] September 29, that his instructions were explicit, and that he could not separate the two questions. He closed by saying that Canning’s disposition and sentiments had been such as inspired him with great confidence that they should soon have been able to bring the dispute to an honorable and satisfactory conclusion. With this letter so far as concerned Monroe, the “Chesapeake” incident came to its end in failure of redress.
One more subject remained for Monroe to finish. His unfortunate treaty returned by Madison with a long list of changes and omissions, had been made by Monroe and Pinkney the subject of a letter to Canning as early as July 24;[31] but the affair of the “Chesapeake” intervened, and Canning declined to touch any other subject until this was adjusted. No sooner did he succeed in referring the “Chesapeake” negotiation to Washington than he turned to the treaty. That a measure which had been the most unpopular act of an unpopular Whig ministry could expect no mercy at Canning’s hands, was to be expected; but some interest attached to the manner of rejection which he might prefer. In a formal note, dated October 22, Canning addressed the American government in a tone which no one but himself could so happily use,—a tone of mingled condescension and derision.[32] He began by saying that his Majesty could not profess to be satisfied that the American government had taken effectual steps in regard to the Berlin Decree; but the King had nevertheless decided, in case the President should ratify Monroe’s treaty, to ratify it in his turn, “reserving to himself the right of taking, in consequence of that decree, and of the omission of any effectual interposition on the part of neutral nations to obtain its revocation, such measures of retaliation as his Majesty might judge expedient.” Without stopping to explain what value a ratification under such conditions would have, Canning continued that the President had thought proper to propose alterations in the body of the treaty:—
“The undersigned is commanded distinctly to protest against a practice altogether unusual in the political transactions of States, by which the American government assumes to itself the privilege of revising and altering agreements concluded and signed on its behalf by its agents duly authorized for that purpose, of retaining so much of those agreements as may be favorable to its own views, and of rejecting such stipulations, or such parts of stipulations, as are conceived to be not sufficiently beneficial to America.”
Without discussing the correctness of Canning’s assertion that the practice was “altogether unusual in the political transactions of States,” Monroe and Pinkney might have replied that every European treaty was negotiated, step by step, under the eye of the respective governments, and that probably no extant treaty had been signed by a British agent in Europe without first receiving at every stage the approval of the King. No American agent could consult his government. Canning was officially aware that Monroe and Pinkney, in signing their treaty, had done so at their own risk, in violation of the President’s orders. The requirement that the President of the United States should follow European rules was unreasonable; but in the actual instance Canning’s tone was something more than unreasonable. His own note assumed for the British government “the privilege of revising and altering” whatever provisions of the treaty it pleased; and after a condition so absolute, he violated reciprocity in rejecting conditions made by the President because they were “unusual in the political transactions of States:”—
“The undersigned is therefore commanded to apprise the American commissioners that, although his Majesty will be at all times ready to listen to any suggestions for arranging, in an amicable and advantageous manner, the respective interests of the two countries, the proposal of the President of the United States for proceeding to negotiate anew upon the basis of a treaty already solemnly concluded and signed, is a proposal wholly inadmissible.”
With this denial of the right of others to exercise arbitrary methods, Canning declared the field open for the British government to give full range to its arbitrary will. A week afterward Monroe left London forever. He had taken his audience of leave October 7, and resigned the legation to Pinkney. October 29 he started for Portsmouth to take ship for Virginia. His diplomatic career in Europe was at an end; but these last failures left him in a state of mind easy to imagine, in which his irritation with Jefferson and Madison, the authors of his incessant misfortunes, outran his suspicions of Canning, whose pretence of friendship had been dignified and smooth.
For reasons to be given hereafter, the Ministry decided to disavow Admiral Berkeley’s attack on the “Chesapeake;” but in order to provide against the reproach of surrendering British rights, a proclamation[33] almost as offensive to the United States as Admiral Berkeley’s order was issued, October 16. Beginning with the assertion that great numbers of British seamen “have been enticed to enter the service of foreign States, and are now actually serving as well on board the ships of war belonging to the said foreign States as on board the merchant-vessels belonging to their subjects,” the proclamation ordered such seamen to return home, and commanded all naval officers to seize them, without unnecessary violence, in any foreign merchant-vessels where they might be found, and to demand them from the captains of foreign ships of war, in order to furnish government with the necessary evidence for claiming redress from the government which had detained the British seamen. Further, the proclamation gave warning that naturalization would not be regarded as relieving British subjects of their duties, but that, while such naturalized persons would be pardoned if they returned immediately to their allegiance, all such as should serve on ships-of-war belonging to any State at enmity with England would be guilty of high treason, and would be punished with the utmost severity of the law.
That the British public, even after the battle of Trafalgar and the firing upon the “Chesapeake,” might have felt its pride sufficiently flattered by such a proclamation seemed only reasonable; for in truth this proclamation forced war upon a government which wished only to escape it, and which cowered for years in submission rather than fight for what it claimed as its due; but although to American ears the proclamation sounded like a sentence of slavery, the British public denounced it as a surrender of British rights. The “Morning Post,” October 20 and 22, gave way to a paroxysm of wrath against ministers for disavowing and recalling Berkeley. “With feelings most poignantly afflicting,” it broke into a rhapsody of unrestrained self-will. The next day, October 23, the same newspaper—then the most influential in the kingdom—pursued the subject more mildly:—
“Though the British government, from perhaps too rigid an adherence to the law of nations, outraged as they are by the common enemy, may, however irritated by her conduct, display a magnanimous forbearance toward so insignificant a Power as America, they will not, we are persuaded, suffer our proud sovereignty of the ocean to be mutilated by any invasion of its just rights and prerogatives. Though the right, tacitly abandoned for the last century, may be suffered to continue dormant, the Americans must not flatter themselves that the principle will be permitted to have any further extent. In the mildness of our sway we must not suffer our sovereignty to be rebelled against or insulted with impunity.... The sovereignty of the seas in the hands of Great Britain is an established, legitimate sovereignty,—a sovereignty which has been exercised on principles so equitable, and swayed with a spirit so mild, that the most humble of the maritime Powers have been treated as if they were on a perfect equality with us.”