George Washington, Volume II

by Henry Cabot Lodge

In everything relating to France Washington had observed the utmost caution, and his friendliness had been all the more marked because he had felt obliged to be guarded. He had exercised this care even in personal matters, and had refrained, so far as possible, from seeing the émigrés who had begun to come to this country. Such men as the Vicomte de Noailles had been referred to the State Department, and in many cases the maintenance of this attitude had tried his feelings severely, for the exiles were not infrequently men who had fought or sympathized with us in our day of conflict. Now came the new minister of the republic, a being apparently devoid of training or manners. Before he had been received, or had appeared at the seat of government, before he had even taken possession of his predecessor's papers, he had behaved in a way which would not have been inappropriate to a Roman governor of a conquered province. He had ordered the French consuls to act as admiralty courts, he had armed cruisers, enlisted and commissioned American citizens, and had seen the vessels of a power with which the United States were at peace captured in American waters, and condemned in the States by French consular courts. Three weeks before Genet's audience Jefferson had a memorial from the British minister, justly complaining of the injuries done his country under cover of our flag; and while the government was considering this pleasant incident, Genet was faring gayly northward, fêted and caressed, cheered and applauded, the subject of ovations and receptions everywhere. At Philadelphia he was received by a great concourse of citizens, called together by the guns of the very privateer that had violated our neutrality, and led by provincial persons, who thought it fine to name themselves "citizen" Smith and "citizen" Brown, because that particular folly was the fashion in France. A day was passed in receiving addresses, and then Genet was presented to the President.

A stranger contrast could not easily have been found even in that strange time, and two men more utterly unlike probably never faced each other as representatives of two great nations. In the difference between them the philosopher may find, perhaps, some explanation of the difference in the character and results of the revolutions which came so near together in the two countries. Nothing, moreover, could well be conceived more distasteful to Washington than the Frenchman's conduct except the Frenchman himself. There was about the man and his performances everything most calculated to bring one of those gusts of passionate contempt which now and again had made things unpleasant for some one who had failed in sense, decency, and duty. This was impossible to a President, but nevertheless his self-restraint from the beginning to the end of his intercourse with Genet was very remarkable in a man of his temperament. At their first interview his demeanor may have been a little colder than usual, and the dignified reserve somewhat more marked, but there was no trace of any feeling. His manner, nevertheless, chilled Genet and came upon him like a cold bath after the warm atmosphere of popular plaudits and turgid addresses. He went away grumbling, and complained that he had seen medallions of the Capets on the walls of the President's room.

But although Washington was calm and polite, he was also watchful and prepared, as he had good reason to be, for Genet immediately began, in addition to his wild public utterances, to pour in notes upon the State Department. He demanded money; he announced in florid style the opening of the French ports; he wrote that he was ready to make a new treaty; and finally he filed an answer to the complaints of the British minister. His arguments were wretched, but they seemed to weigh with Jefferson, although not with the President; and meantime the dragon's teeth which he had plentifully sown began to come up and bear an abundant harvest. More prizes were made by his cruisers, and after many remonstrances one was ordered away, and two Americans whom Genet had enlisted were indicted. Genet declared that this was an act which his pen almost refused to state; but still it was done, and the administration pushed on and ordered the seizure of privateers fitting in American ports. Governor Clinton made a good beginning with one at New York, and in hot haste Genet wrote another note more furious and impertinent than any he had yet sent. He was answered civilly, and the work of stopping the sale of prizes went on.

Meantime the opposition were not idle. The French sympathizers bestirred themselves, and attacks began to be made even on the President himself. The popular noise and clamor were all against the administration, but the support of it was really growing stronger, although the President and his secretaries could not see it. Jefferson, on whom the conduct of foreign affairs rested, was uneasy and wavering. He wrote able letters, as he was directed, but held, it is to be feared, quite different language in his conversations with Genet. Randolph argued and hesitated, while Hamilton, backed by Knox, was filled with wrath and wished more decisive measures. Still, as we look at it now across a century, we can observe that the policy went calmly forward, consistent and unchecked. The French minister was held back, privateers were stopped, the English minister's complaints were answered, every effort was made for exact justice, and neutrality was preserved. It was hard and trying work, especially to a man of strong temper and fighting propensities. Still it was done, and toward the end of June Washington went for a little rest to Mount Vernon.

Then came a sudden explosion. One July morning the rumor ran through Philadelphia that the Little Sarah, a prize of the French man-of-war, was fitting out as a privateer. The reaction in favor of the administration was beginning, and men, indignant at the proceeding, carried the news to Governor Mifflin, and also to the Secretary of State. Great disturbance of mind thereupon ensued to these two gentlemen, who were both much interested in France and the rights of man. The brig would not sail before the arrival of the President, said the Secretary of State. Still the arming went on apace, and then came movements on the part of the governor. Dallas, Secretary of State for Pennsylvania, went at midnight to expostulate with Genet, who burst into a passion, and declared that the vessel should sail. This defiance roused the governor, and a company of militia marched to the vessel and took possession. Greatly excited, Jefferson went next morning to Genet, who very honestly declined to promise to detain the vessel, but said that she would not be ready to sail until Wednesday. This announcement, which was distinctly not a promise, the Secretary of State chose to accept as such, and as he was very far from being a fool, he did so either from timidity, or from a very unworthy political preference for another nation's interests to the dignity of his own country. At all events, he had the troops withdrawn, and the Little Sarah, now rejoicing in the name of the Petit Democrat, dropped down to Chester. Hamilton and Knox, being neither afraid nor un-American, were for putting a battery on Mud Island and sinking the privateer if she attempted to go by. Great saving of trouble and bloodshed would have been accomplished by the setting up of this battery and the sinking of this vessel, for it would have informed the world that though the United States were weak and young, they were ready nevertheless to fight as a nation, a fact which we subsequently were obliged to prove by a three years' war.

Jefferson, however, opposed decisive measures, and while the cabinet wrangled, Washington, hurrying back from Mount Vernon, reached Philadelphia. He was full of just anger at what had been done and left undone. Jefferson, feeling uneasy, had gone to the country, where he was fond of making a retreat at unpleasant moments, and Washington at once wrote him a letter, which could not have been very agreeable to the discoverer of diplomatic promises in a refusal to give any. "What," said the President, "is to be done in the case of the Little Sarah, now at Chester? Is the minister of the French Republic to set the acts of this government at defiance with impunity? and then threaten the executive with an appeal to the people? What must the world think of such conduct, and of the government of the United States in submitting to it?" Then came a demand for an immediate opinion.

To the tender feelings of the Secretary of State, who had not been considering the affair from an American standpoint, this must have seemed a violent and almost a coarse way of treating the "great republic," and he replied that the French minister had assured him that the vessel would not sail until the President reached a decision. Having got the vessel to Chester, however, by telling the truth, Genet now changed his tack. He lied about detaining her, and she went to sea. This performance filled the cup of Washington's disgust almost to overflowing, for he had what Jefferson seems to have totally lost at this juncture—a keen national feeling, and it was touched to the quick. The truth was, that in all this business Jefferson was thinking too much of France and of the cause of human liberty in Paris, while Washington thought of the United States alone. The result was the escape of the vessel, owing to Washington's absence, and the consequent humiliation to the government. To refrain from ordering Genet out of the country at once required a strong effort of self-control; but he wished to keep the peace as long as possible, and he proposed to get rid of him speedily but decorously. He resolved also that no more such outrages should be committed through his absence, and the consequent differences among his advisers. He continued, of course, to consult his cabinet, but he took the immediate control, more definitely even than before, into his own hands. On July 25 he wrote to Jefferson, whose vigor at this critical time he evidently doubted: "As the letter of the minister of the Republic of France, dated the 22d of June, lies yet unanswered, and as the official conduct of that gentleman, relative to the affairs of this government, will have to undergo a very serious consideration, ... in order to decide upon measures proper to be taken thereupon, it is my desire that all the letters to and from that minister may be ready to be laid before me, the heads of departments, and the attorney-general, whom I shall advise with on the occasion." He also saw to it that better precautions should be taken by the officers of the customs to prevent similar attempts to break neutrality, and set the administration and the laws of the country at defiance.

The cabinet consultations soon bore good fruit, and Genet's recall was determined on during the first days of August. There was some discussion over the manner of requesting the recall, but the terms were made gentle by Jefferson, to the disgust of the Secretary of the Treasury and the Secretary of War, who desired direct methods and stronger language. As finally toned up and agreed upon by the President and cabinet, the document was sufficiently vigorous to annoy Genet, and led to bitter reproaches addressed to his friend in the State Department. Then there was question about publishing the correspondence, and again Jefferson intervened in behalf of mildness. The substantive fact, however, was settled, and the letter asking Genet's recall, as desired by Washington, went in due time, and in the following February came a successor. Genet, however, did not go back to his native land, for he preferred to remain here and save his head, valueless as that article would seem to have been. He spent the rest of his days in America, married, harmless, and quite obscure. His noise and fireworks were soon over, and one wonders now how he could ever have made as much flare and explosion as he did.

But even while his recall was being decided, before he knew of it himself, and long before his successor came, Genet's folly produced more trouble than ever, and his insolence rose to a higher pitch. The arming of privateers had been checked, but the consuls continued to arrogate powers which no self-respecting nation could permit, and for some gross offense Washington revoked the exequatur of Duplaine, consul at Boston. An insolent note from Genet thereupon declared that the President had overstepped his authority, and that he should appeal to the sovereign State of Massachusetts. Next there was riot and the attempted murder of a man from St. Domingo who was accused by the refugees. Then it began to get abroad that Genet had threatened to appeal from the President to the people, and frantic denials ensued from all the opposition press; whereupon a card appeared from John Jay and Rufus King, which stated that they were authority for the story and believed it. Apologies now took the place of denial, and were backed by ferocious attacks on the signers of the card. Unluckily, intelligent people seemed to put faith in Jay and King rather than in the opposition newspapers, and the tide, which had turned some time before, now ran faster every moment against the French. To make it flow with overwhelming force and rapidity was reserved for Genet himself, who was furious at the Jay card, and wrote to the President, demanding a denial of the statement which it contained. A cool note informed him that the President did not consider it proper or material to make denials, and pointed out to him that he must address his communications to the State Department. This correspondence was published, and the mass of the people were at last aroused, and turned from Genet in disgust. The leaders tried vainly to separate the minister from his country, and Genet himself frothed and foamed, demanded that Randolph should sue Jay and King for libel, and declared that America was no longer free. This sad statement had little effect. Washington had triumphed completely, and without haste but with perfect firmness had brought the people round to his side as that of the national dignity and honor.

The victory had been won at no little cost to Washington himself in the way of self-control. He had been irritated and angered at every step, so much so that he even referred in a letter to Richard Henry Lee to the trial of temper to which he had been put, a bit of personal allusion in which he rarely indulged. "The specimens you have seen," he wrote, "of Mr. Genet's sentiments and conduct in the gazettes form a small part only of the aggregate. But you can judge from them to what test the temper of the executive has been put in its various transactions with this gentleman. It is probable that the whole will be exhibited to public view in the course of the next session of Congress. Delicacy towards his nation has restrained the doing of it hitherto. The best that can be said of this agent is, that he is entirely unfit for the mission on which he is employed; unless (which I hope is not the case), contrary to the express and unequivocal declaration of his country made through himself, it is meant to involve ours in all the horrors of a European war."