Pinkney was greatly pleased, and wrote to Madison in excellent spirits[55] that the change gave all the immediate benefits which could have arisen from the arrangement proposed by him in the previous August, except the right to demand from France the recall of her edicts. “Our triumph is already considered as a signal one by everybody. The pretexts with which ministers would conceal their motives for a relinquishment of all which they prized in their system are seen through, and it is universally viewed as a concession to America. Our honor is now safe; and by management we may probably gain everything we have in view.” Canning said to Pinkney: “If these alterations did not do all that was expected, they at least narrowed extremely the field of discussion, and gave great facilities and encouragement to reviving cordiality.”[56] Government took pains to impress the idea that it had done much, and wished to do more for conciliation; yet the doubt remained whether Government was acting in good faith. Pinkney overestimated its concessions. If the British navy was to blockade Holland, France, and northern Italy only in order that British commerce might be forced, through the blockade and license system, into the place of neutral commerce, the new system was only the old one in disguise. Under a blockade, in good faith, licenses seemed to have no place. In that case, the Order in Council of April 26 might lead to a real settlement; but how was it possible that Perceval, George Rose, and James Stephen should have given up what they believed to be the only hope for England’s safety?
If one frank and straightforward man could be found among the ministerial ranks, James Stephen had a right to that distinction, and to his language one might hope to look with confidence for the truth; yet Stephen seemed for once not to understand himself. In publishing his speech of March 6, he added an appendix on the new order, and closed his remarks by a prayer that seemed meant to open the way for the full admission of American offers:—
“It is not strange that a measure so indulgent [as the new Order] should be generally approved by the American merchants and agents resident in England. The most eminent of the gentlemen of that description who opposed the Orders of November have openly professed their satisfaction at this important change. May the same sentiment prevail on notice of it beyond the Atlantic! Or, what would be still better, may an amicable arrangement there have already terminated all the differences between us and our American brethren on terms that will involve a complete revocation of our retaliatory orders, and impose on America herself, by her own consent, the duty of vindicating effectually the rights of neutrality against the aggressions of France!”
CHAPTER IV.
Early in February, when Congress refused to support Madison’s war-policy,—the mere shadow of which brought Perceval and Canning almost to their senses,—Canning’s instructions were despatched from the Foreign Office. April 7, more than a month after the Tenth Congress had expired, amidst political conditions altogether different from those imagined by Canning, the instructions reached Washington; and Erskine found himself required to carry them into effect.
A cautious diplomatist would have declined to act upon them. Under pretext of the change which had altered the situation he would have asked for new instructions, while pointing out the mischievous nature of the old. The instructions were evidently impossible to execute; the situation was less critical than ever before, and Great Britain was master of the field.
On the other hand, the instructions offered some appearance of an advance toward friendship. They proved Canning’s ignorance, but not his bad faith; and if Canning in good faith wanted a settlement, Erskine saw every reason for gratifying him. The arrogance of Canning’s demands did not necessarily exclude further concession. The great governments of Europe from time immemorial had used a tone of authority insufferable to weaker Powers, and not agreeable to one another; yet their tone did not always imply the wish to quarrel, and England herself seldom resented manners as unpleasant as her own. Used to the rough exchange of blows, and hardened by centuries of toil and fighting, England was not sensitive when her interests were at stake. Her surliness was a trick rather than a design. Her diplomatic agents expected to enjoy reasonable liberty in softening the harshness and in supplying the ignorance of their chiefs of the Foreign Office; and if such latitude was ever allowed to a diplomatist, Erskine had the best right to use it in the case of instructions the motives of which he could not comprehend.
Finally, Erskine was the son of Lord Erskine, and owed his appointment to Charles James Fox. He was half Republican by education, half American by marriage; and probably, like all British liberals, he felt in secret an entire want of confidence in Canning and a positive antipathy to the Tory commercial system.
Going at once to Secretary Robert Smith, Erskine began on the “Chesapeake” affair, and quickly disposed of it. The President abandoned the American demand for a court-martial on Admiral Berkeley, finding that it would not be entertained.[57] Erskine then wrote a letter offering the stipulated redress for the “Chesapeake” outrage, and Madison wrote a letter accepting it, which Robert Smith signed, and dated April 17.
Two points in Madison’s “Chesapeake” letter attracted notice. Erskine began his official note[58] by alluding to the Non-intercourse Act of March 1, as having placed Great Britain on an equal footing with the other belligerents, and warranting acknowledgment on that account. The idea was far-fetched, and Madison’s reply was ambiguous:—