“This six months’ session has worn me down to a state of almost total incapacity for business,” wrote President Jefferson to his attorney-general.[178] “Congress will certainly rise to-morrow night, and I shall leave this for Monticello on the 5th of May, to be here again on the 8th of June.” More earnestly than ever he longed for repose and good-will. “For myself,” he said,[179] “I have nothing further to ask of the world than to preserve in retirement so much of their esteem as I may have fairly earned, and to be permitted to pass in tranquillity, in the bosom of my family and friends, the days which yet remain to me.” He could not reasonably ask from the world more than he had already received from it; but a whole year remained, during which he must still meet whatever demand the world should make upon him. He had brought the country to a situation where war was impossible for want of weapons, and peace was only a name for passive war. He was bound to carry the government through the dangers he had braved; and for the first time in seven years American democracy, struck with sudden fear of failure, looked to him in doubt, and trembled for its hopes.
Fortunately for Jefferson’s ease, no serious opposition was made in the Republican party to his choice of a successor. Giles and Nicholas, who managed Madison’s canvass in Virginia, caused a caucus to be held, January 21, at Richmond, where one hundred and twenty-three members of the State legislature joined in nominating electors for Madison. Randolph’s friends held another caucus, at which fifty-seven members of the same legislature joined in nominating electors for Monroe. To support the Virginia movement for Madison, a simultaneous caucus was held at Washington, where, January 20, Senator Bradley of Vermont issued a printed circular inviting the Republican members of both Houses to consult, January 23, respecting the next Presidential election. Bradley’s authority was disputed by Monroe’s partisans, and only Madison’s friends, or indifferent persons, obeyed the call. Eighty-nine senators and members attended; and on balloting, eighty-three votes were given for Madison as President, seventy-nine for George Clinton as Vice-President; but the names of the persons present were never published, and the caucus itself seemed afraid of its own action. About sixty Republican members or senators held aloof. John Randolph and sixteen of his friends published a protest against the caucus and its candidate:—
“We ask for energy, and we are told of his moderation. We ask for talents, and the reply is his unassuming merit. We ask what were his services in the cause of public liberty, and we are directed to the pages of the ‘Federalist,’ written in conjunction with Alexander Hamilton and John Jay, in which the most extravagant of their doctrines are maintained and propagated. We ask for consistency as a Republican, standing forth to stem the torrent of oppression which once threatened to overwhelm the liberties of the country. We ask for that high and honorable sense of duty which would at all times turn with loathing and abhorrence from any compromise with fraud and speculation. We ask in vain.”[180]
Jefferson had commanded the warm and undisputed regard of his followers; Madison held no such pre-eminence. “Every able diplomatist is not fit to be President,” said Macon. George Clinton, who had yielded unwillingly to Jefferson, held Madison in contempt. While Monroe set up a Virginia candidacy which the Republicans of Randolph’s school supported, George Clinton set up a candidacy of his own, in New York, supported by Cheetham’s “Watch-Tower,” and by a portion of the country press. Before long, the public was treated to a curious spectacle. The regular party candidate for the Vice-presidency became the open rival of the regular candidate for the Presidency. Clinton’s newspapers attacked Madison without mercy, while Madison’s friends were electing Clinton as Madison’s Vice-president.
In this state of things successful opposition to Madison depended upon the union of his enemies in support of a common candidate. Not only must either Monroe or Clinton retire, but one must be able to transfer his votes to the other; and the whole Federalist party must be induced to accept the choice thus made. The Federalists were not unwilling; but while they waited for the politicians of Virginia and New York to arrange the plan of campaign, they busied themselves with recovering control of New England, where they had been partially driven from power. The embargo offered them almost a certainty of success.
From the first moment of the embargo, even during the secret debate of Dec. 19, 1807, its opponents raised the cry of French influence; and so positively and persistently was Jefferson charged with subservience to Napoleon, that while a single Federalist lived, this doctrine continued to be an article of his creed. In truth, Jefferson had never stood on worse terms with France than when he imposed the embargo. He acted in good faith when he enclosed Armstrong’s letter and Regnier’s decision in his Embargo Message. Turreau was annoyed at his conduct, thinking it intended to divert public anger from England to France in order to make easier the negotiation with Rose. Instead of dictating Jefferson’s course, as the Federalists believed, Turreau was vexed and alarmed by it. He complained of Armstrong, Madison, and Jefferson himself. The Embargo Message, he said, exposed the Administration in flank to the Federalists, and gave the English envoy free play. “For me it was a useless proof—one proof the more—of the usual awkwardness of the Washington Cabinet, and of its falsity (fausseté) in regard to France.”[181] His contempt involved equally people, Legislature, and Executive:—
“Faithful organs of the perverse intentions of the American people, its representatives came together before their usual time, in accordance with the President’s views, and in their private conversation and in their public deliberations seemed entirely to forget the offences of England, or rather to have been never affected by them. This temper, common to the men of all parties, proved very evidently what was the state of popular opinion in regard to Great Britain, against whom no hostile project will ever enter into an American’s thoughts. The Annual Message was not calculated to inspire energy into the honorable Congress. All these political documents from the President’s pen are cold and colorless.”[182]
The result of Rose’s negotiation confirmed Turreau’s disgust:—
“It can be no longer doubtful that the United States, whatever insults they may have to endure, will never make war on Great Britain unless she attacks them. Every day I have been, and still am, met with the objection that the decrees of the French government have changed the disposition of the members of the Executive, and especially of members of Congress. Both have seized this incident as a pretext to color their cowardice (lâcheté), and extend it over their system of inaction; since it is evident that however severe the measures of the French government may have been, they weigh light in the balance when set in opposition to all the excesses, all the outrages, that England has permitted herself to inflict on the United States.”[183]
During the winter and spring nothing occurred to soothe Turreau’s feelings. On the contrary, his irritation was increased by the President’s communication to Congress of Champagny’s letter of January 15, and by the “inconceivable weakness” which made this letter public:—