War is not always an unmixed curse, at least for nations who manage to remain neutral while the rest of the world is torn by calamitous conflicts. Europe's misfortune had been to some extent America's good fortune. With comparatively short intermissions, France and England were engaged in a death struggle from 1793 to 1815, and although Britannia ruled the sea, the belligerents had to resort to neutral shipping. The exports of the United States, which were valued at only nineteen millions in 1791, reached ninety-four millions in 1802, and one hundred eight millions in 1807. The imports followed approximately the same curve for the corresponding dates, jumping from nineteen millions to seventy-five millions in 1802 and reaching over one hundred thirty-eight millions in 1807. If the United States had been permitted to pursue the policy outlined by Jefferson in his messages, "to cultivate the friendship of the belligerent nations by every act of justice and of incessant kindness" (October 17, 1803), "to carry a commercial intercourse with every part of the dominions of a belligerent" (January 17, 1806), a sort of commercial millennium would have been attained and the prosperity of the United States would have been boundless. But, at least at the beginning of the nineteenth century, neither the rights of neutrals nor international law were observed by the belligerents, and neutrals were bound to suffer as well as to profit by their privileged situation.

For his conduct of foreign affairs Jefferson has been severely taken to task, not only by many of his contemporaries but by several historians, one of the most formidable critics being Henry Adams. During his second administration, America suffered deep humiliations which aroused the national spirit. In many occasions war could have and perhaps should have been declared; the navy, which had been reduced to a minimum under Gallatin's policy of economy, could have been expanded so as to enable the country to protect herself against foreign insults. On matters concerning national honor and national pride Americans alone are qualified to pass, and I can hold no brief for Jefferson in the matter. Perhaps it would have soothed the wounds inflicted to the amour-propre of the nation if war had been declared against France, or England, or both, and if America had taken part in the "bloody conflicts" of Europe. It must be said, however, that one fails to see what material advantages would have resulted for the country; in this case, as in many others, Jefferson's conduct seems to have been directed by enlightened self-interest. He was most unwilling to favor and help in any way Napoleon's ambitious schemes by declaring war against England; on the other hand, the prospect of forming a de facto alliance with a country which on so many occasions had deliberately insulted the United States and manifestly entertained feelings of scorn and distrust toward the young republic was equally abhorrent to him. Finally, it must not be forgotten that by keeping out of the deadly conflict in which Europe was engaged, the United States were able to lay the solid foundations of an unparalleled prosperity. While the young manhood of Europe perished on the battlefields of Napoleon, the population of America grew by leaps and bounds, passing from 5,300,000 in 1800 to 7,250,000 in 1810. While the farms and the factories of the Old World were left abandoned, immense territories were put under cultivation and new industries were developed to satisfy the demands of consumers who could no longer import manufactured products from England. The whole life of the nation was quickened and the industrial revolution hastened.

When, after Waterloo, Europe resumed her peaceful pursuits, America had freed herself of economic and financial dependence from the Old World. She had become a rich, powerful and self-supporting nation. She appeared to the impoverished peoples of the earth as an economic as well as a political Eldorado. Whether the price she paid for it was too high is a question which I may be permitted to leave for others to decide.

In his second inaugural address, the President found it unnecessary to state again the directing principles of his policies, simply declaring that he had "acted up" to the declaration contained in his first inaugural. Of foreign affairs he had little to say, except to reiterate his conviction that "with nations, as well as with individuals, our interests soundly calculated, will ever be found inseparable from our moral duties." Yet there was a passing reference to possible difficulties. War sometimes could not be avoided: "it might be procured by injustice by ourselves, or by others"; and provision ought to be made in advance for such emergencies, so as "to meet all the expenses of any given year, without encroaching on the rights of future generations, by burdening them with the debts of the past." The President foresaw that, with the rapid growth of the population and the corresponding increase in revenue raised from import taxes, it would be possible

One may wonder whether at that time Jefferson realized the possible consequences of such a system. We have not to seek very far for the exact "source" of these ideas; they were taken bodily from Hamilton's report of manufactures. It was the same proposal to distribute subsidies and bounties from the Federal treasury, to encourage commerce and manufactures. Apparently what was damnable and criminal under a Federalist administration became praiseworthy under a Republican rÉgime.

As a matter of fact, even during Jefferson's first term, some of the resources of the Federal treasury had to be spent in warlike activities. Jefferson had never been able to forget the deep humiliation he had felt when, as a minister to the Court of France, he had been forced to negotiate with the Barbary pirates for the redemption of American prisoners. He had been less than six months in office when he decided to answer the new demands of the Barbary States by sending an American fleet to protect American commerce in the Mediterranean. To this incident he gave a large part of his first message (December 8, 1801), and the activities of the small squadron kept in Europe for several years, in order to blockade the pirates in their harbors, was regularly mentioned in his subsequent messages. The tone of some passages is well worth studying. His hope to reduce "the Barbarians of Tripoli to the desire of peace on proper terms by the sufferings of war" (November 8, 1804); his determination to send to Europe additional forces, "to make Tripoli sensible that they mistake their interest in choosing war with us; and Tunis also, should she have declared war as we expect and almost wish" (July 18, 1804)—all this reveals a warlike Jefferson very different from the pacifist philosopher he is supposed to have been in all circumstances.

It was irritating enough to bear the insults of British and French vessels to the American flag in order to keep the United States out of a European war. To yield to the demands of a band of pirates who could be cowed by energetic action with a minimum of bloodshed and expenditure, would have been an insufferable disgrace. The Barbarians had to be beaten into submission, and the European powers who did not seem to be willing to emancipate themselves from that degrading tribute could perhaps understand at the same time that there were limits to the forbearance of the United States.

With reference to England the situation was entirely different. The United States had no fleet able to cope with the English fleet. The American coasts were unprotected and the American harbors could be bombarded from the sea without even being able to make a pretense of resisting. A large navy could not be built in a day, and even if one had been improvised, the odds would have been so uneven that many American vessels would have gone down and many lives would have been lost under the fire of the British frigates. Thus for practical reasons as well as from philanthropic motives, Jefferson bent all his efforts to the preservation of peace with the great countries of Europe.

Hardly three weeks after the signature of the treaty through which he gave up Louisiana, Bonaparte declared war against England. When he received the news, Jefferson wrote a long letter to Lord Buchan in which he defined his policy:

Thus spoke Jefferson in July, 1803, and Woodrow Wilson, who borrowed more than one page from the book of his predecessor, expressed himself in almost the same words one hundred and eleven years later. Thus, also, would probably speak any President of the United States should a new conflagration break out to-morrow. This, to be sure, was no proclamation of neutrality and none was needed at the time; but had Jefferson written one, he could scarcely have expressed himself more forcibly than he did in a letter sent two days later to General Horatio Gates: "We are friendly, cordially and conscientiously friendly to England. We are not hostile to France. We will be rigorously just and sincerely friendly to both."

But this fine declaration did not make Jefferson forget the immediate interests of the United States, for the preoccupation uppermost in his mind at that time was to find out how the European situation could be used to the best advantage of his own country.

In signing the treaty France had refused to give any guarantee as to the extent of the territory ceded under the Louisiana Purchase. Whether the cession included West Florida, on the occupation of which Jefferson had been so intent, was a matter of doubt. This particular point had not been pressed during the negotiations, France, according to the old maxim caveat emptor, taking the position that the question lay between the United States and Spain, while the United States had never abandoned the hope that they would be able to induce Bonaparte to exert pressure on Madrid so as to enable the American Government to make the most of the transaction. Soon after the treaty was signed, the United States found themselves enmeshed in one of the most complicated intrigues of European diplomacy.

While Madison and Jefferson were negotiating in Washington with the Spanish minister Yrujo, Pinkney and later Monroe negotiated in Madrid, sometimes at cross purposes but without ever losing sight of the main object. Jefferson had renewed his old contention that the United States were entitled to "all the navigable waters, rivers, creeks, bays, and inlets lying within the United States, which empty into the Gulf of Mexico east of the River Mississippi." As Henry Adams remarked, this was a most remarkable provision, as "no creeks, bays, or inlets lying within the United States emptied into the Gulf."[460] But if Jefferson's geography was faulty, his intent was perfectly clear, and every opportunity was to be used to round out the perimeter of the United States. When in October, 1804, Monroe reached Paris to push negotiations more vigorously, the plans of the United States had crystallized. They had a beautiful simplicity: to make Spain pay the claims resulting from the shutting-up of the Mississippi by Morales, to take immediate possession of Western Florida and to obtain the cession of Eastern Florida.

With the details of the diplomatic maneuvers we are not concerned here, but rather with the remarkable proposal made by Jefferson to Madison during the summer of 1805. Spain having declared war against England, the President, fearful of being "left without an ally", thought immediately of proposing "a provisional alliance with England" (August 7, 1805). This alliance was to be conditional and would become effective only in case the United States should have to declare war against France or Spain. "In that event," wrote Jefferson, "we should make common cause, and England should stipulate not to make peace without our obtaining the objects for which we go to war, to wit, the acknowledgment by Spain of the rightful boundaries of Louisiana (which we should reduce to a minimum by a secret article) and 2, indemnification for spoliation, for which purpose we should be allowed to make reprisal on the Floridas and retain them as an indemnification." Jefferson added that "as it was the wish of every Englishman's heart to see the United States fighting by their sides against France", the king and his ministers could do no better than to enter into an alliance and the nation would consider it "as the price and pledge of an indissoluble friendship."[461] There is little doubt that if, at this juncture, Monroe had maneuvered more skillfully, if England had showed less arrogance in her treatment of the United States, she could have secured at least the benevolent neutrality of America. But apparently England did not care for a benevolent neutrality. After Trafalgar, she was left undisputed mistress of the ocean, she could enforce her own regulations as she pleased, and she proceeded to do so.

The presidential message of December 3, 1805, had to present very "unpleasant views of violence and wrong." The coasts of America were infested by "private armed vessels, some of them with commissions, others without commissions", all of them committing enormities, sinking American merchantmen, "maltreating the crews, abandoning them in boats in the open seas or on desert shores." The same policy of "hovering on the coast" was carried on by "public armed vessels." New principles, too, had been "interloped into the law of nations, founded neither in justice nor in the usage or acknowledgment of nations"; this was an allusion to the decision of Judge Scott in the Essex case. With Spain negotiations had not had a satisfactory issue, propositions for adjusting amicably the boundaries of Louisiana had not been acceded to, and spoliation claims formerly acknowledged had again been denied.

The President concluded that, although peace was still the ultimate ideal of the United States, there were circumstances which admitted of no peaceful remedy. Some evils were "of a nature to be met by force only, and all of them may lead to it." Finally specific recommendations were made to organize the national defense: furnishing the seaports with heavy cannon, increasing the number of gunboats, classifying the militia so as to have ready a competent number of men "for offence or defence in any point where they may be wanted", prohibition of the exportations of arms and ammunition,—such were the chief measures contemplated by the President.

In the spring of 1806, he wrote a long letter to Alexander of Russia, who had manifested a desire to have a copy of the Constitution of the United States. This was an appeal to the Czar, insisting that special articles defining the rights of neutrals in time of war be inserted in the definitive treaty of peace sooner or later to be concluded between the European belligerents. Having taken no part in the troubles of Europe, "the United States would have no part in its pacification", but it was to be hoped that some one would be found "who, looking beyond the narrow bounds of an individual nation, will take under the cover of his equity the rights of the absent and unrepresented."[462] Unfortunately, more than ten years were to elapse before that pacification of Europe so earnestly hoped for by Jefferson came about, and only a week before the British ministry had again aggravated regulations against the neutrals by issuing orders blockading the coast of the continent (April 8, 1806).

A few weeks later, Jefferson who, yielding to the pressure of Congress, had agreed to appoint a special envoy to help Monroe negotiate a commercial treaty with England, sent William Pinkney of Maryland to London. "He has a just view of things, so far as known to him," wrote Jefferson to Monroe, but he did not deem it desirable to trust him with special instructions. For Monroe alone he reserved the complete exposition of the plans then brooding in his mind. The death of Pitt would probably mark a change in the attitude of Great Britain; the President had more confidence in Mr. Fox than in any other man in England and relied entirely on "his honesty and good sense." Then came an outline of the reasoning to be put forward by Monroe: "No two countries upon earth have so many points of common interests and friendship; and their rulers must be great bunglers indeed, if, with such dispositions, they break them asunder." England might check the United States a little on the ocean; but she should realize that nothing but her financial limitations prevented America from having a strong navy. If France provided the money, so as to equip an American fleet, the state of the ocean would be no longer problematical. If England, on the contrary, made such a proposition, an alliance of the two largest fleets "would make the world out of the continent of Europe our joint monopoly." Then Jefferson added: "we wish for neither of these scenes—We ask for peace and justice from all nations; and we will remain uprightly neutral in fact, though leaning in belief to the opinion that an English ascendency on the ocean is safer for us than that of France."

Finally, at the end of the letter, came the most extraordinarily imperialistic proposition ever made by any nation; it was the extension of a pet theory of Jefferson to the Atlantic Ocean. As he had claimed for the United States the free navigation of all the streams originating on the territory of the United States, he was ready to claim that the great current originating from the Gulf should not be considered differently, and he wrote: "We begin to broach the idea that we consider the whole Gulf Stream as of our waters, in which hostilities and cruising are to be frowned on for the present, and prohibited so soon as either consent or force will permit us."[463]

This might be thought a visionary scheme and merely a flight of imagination, if Jefferson had not expressed the same idea in identical terms in a conversation with the French minister concerning the treaty negotiated in London by Monroe and Pinkney: "Perhaps we shall obtain the right to extend our maritime jurisdiction, and to carry it as far as the effect of the Gulph Stream makes itself felt,—which would be very advantageous both to belligerents and neutrals."[464]

These being Jefferson's views, it would have taken a far more successful negotiator than Monroe to make the British Government accept them. The treaty finally signed by the American envoys on December 1, 1806, was far from satisfactory. As a matter of fact, the American envoys had been caught between the hammer and the anvil. To the Fox blockade of April, 1806, Napoleon had answered by the Berlin Decree at the end of November, placing the British islands in a state of blockade, declaring all merchandise coming from England subject to confiscation and refusing admission into any French port to any vessel coming either from England or her colonies. Forbidden by England to trade with France, by France to trade with England, the neutrals were placed in a sorry plight. Yet not only did Monroe in his treaty recognize the right of visit and of impressing British seamen found on board American vessels, but he gave up the American claims to indemnity for outrages committed on American commerce in 1805, and accepted the most humiliating conditions concerning American trade with the French and Spanish colonies. Finally, before Monroe could obtain the signature of the British negotiators, he had to agree to an additional article by which he promised not to recognize the decree of Berlin. In less than three weeks Jefferson received Napoleon's decree, the text of the Pinkney-Monroe treaty, and the news of Lord Howick's retaliatory order requesting that no goods should be carried to France unless they first touched at an English port and paid a certain duty.

In spite of the pressing request of the Senate, Jefferson refused to communicate the text of the treaty. The explanation publicly given by the President was that Monroe had concluded the treaty before receiving information as to the points to be insisted upon, and that a new effort would be made to obtain the modification of some particularly objectionable features. "This is the statement we have given out," he wrote to Monroe, "and nothing more of the treaty has ever been made known. But depend on it, my dear Sir, that it will be considered as a hard treaty when it is known." If it appeared to Monroe that no amendment was to be hoped for, he was authorized to come home, leaving behind him Pinkney, who by procrastination would let it die and thus would give America more time "the most precious of all things to us."[465]

New instructions were sent accordingly to the American envoys at the end of May, but the problem of the relations with England became suddenly more acute during Aaron Burr's trial.

On June 22, the Chesapeake of the American navy, bound for the Mediterranean, was hauled up in view of Cape Henry by the Leopard of the British squadron, and summons were sent to Commodore Barron to deliver some British deserters he was supposed to have on board. Upon Barron's refusal, the Leopard opened fire and for fifteen minutes sent broadsides into the American ship, so unprepared and unready that only one shot could be fired in answer. The American flag was hauled down, British officers boarded the ship and took four deserters; after which Captain Humphreys of the Leopard declared to Barron that he could proceed on his way. The Chesapeake limped back into port, and on the twenty-fifth, Jefferson called back to Washington Dearborn and Gallatin to consider the emergency in a meeting of the Cabinet.

What his indignation over the outrage may have been is a matter of surmise. He did not express it either privately or publicly. To Governor William H. Cabell, who had sent him a special message and report, he answered diplomatically that, after consulting the Cabinet he would determine "the course which exigency and our constitutional powers call for.—Whether the outrage is a proper cause of war, belonging exclusively to Congress, it is our duty not to commit them by doing anything which would have to be retracted." But it is certain that, even at that time, he was not ready to recommend any radical step, for he added:

It was scarcely necessary to call the Cabinet together; three days before the special meeting the President had already decided on a policy of forbearance and watchful waiting. The proclamation which was issued was moderate in tone, but Jefferson expressed more clearly in a letter to the Vice President, George Clinton, the reasons for his moderation.

In order to make even more certain that no precipitate step would be taken, it was decided to issue, on August 24, a proclamation calling Congress together, but not until the fourth Monday in October. It was the manifest hope of the President that by that date some satisfaction would be obtained from England with regard to the most flagrant violations of the "droit des gens", and that extreme measures could be avoided.

In the meantime new instructions had been sent to Monroe. "Reparation for the past, and security for the future is our motto," wrote the President to Du Pont de Nemours. Reparation for the past, at least as far as the attack on the Chesapeake was concerned, would have been easy to obtain, but Canning refused persistently to make any promise for the future, or to alter the policy of Great Britain with regard to visit and impressment. For his firmness in refusing to settle the case of the Chesapeake independently, Jefferson has been most severely criticized by Henry Adams, whose admiration for Perceval's and Canning's superior minds is unbounded. Shall I confess that on this particular point, at least, I should rather agree with the English biographer of Jefferson, Mr. Hirst, who declares that "no second-rate lawyer was ever more obtuse than Perceval, and the wit of Canning, his foreign secretary, seldom issued in wisdom." On this occasion Great Britain was even more stupid than she had been in 1776; she missed her great opportunity to operate a reconciliation with the United States and to turn them against France, without other compensation than the pleasure of outwitting the American envoys and once more treating scornfully the younger country. The real answer of England was given in the Orders in Council of November 11, 1807, prohibiting all neutral trade with the whole European seacoast from Copenhagen to Trieste. No American vessel was to be allowed to enter any port of Europe from which British vessels were excluded without first going to England and abiding by regulations to be determined later.

In the meantime, Jefferson was pushing fast his preparations for defence. A detailed examination of his correspondence during the summer and fall of that year would justify him amply from the criticism of several American historians.[468] He still hoped for peace, or more exactly peace remained his ideal, although he had very little hope that Monroe would succeed in his negotiations. But nothing could be done as long as American ships and sailors, "at least twenty thousand men", were on the seas, an easy prey to British vessels in case war should be declared at once. "The loss of these," wrote Jefferson quite correctly, "would be worth to Great Britain many victories on the Nile and Trafalgar."[469]

To judge of Jefferson's conduct at that time from our modern point of view would be most unfair and dangerous. He could neither cable, nor send radiograms, nor even steamships to warn American citizens in distant ports, nor give instructions to agents of the United States all over the world. It took months for news to cross the ocean and sometimes a year or more to receive an answer to a letter. The geographical isolation of the United States, their remoteness from Europe and the slowness of communications were obvious factors of the situation, yet they are too often neglected in judging the policy then followed by the President. As the year advanced, Jefferson's hope of being able to maintain peace grew fainter. There is a spirit of helplessness in a letter he wrote to James Maury at the end of November:

The world as you justly observe, is truly in an awful state. Two nations of overgrown power are endeavoring to establish, the one an universal dominion by sea, the other by land.... We are now in hourly expectation of hearing from our ministers in London by the return of the "Revenge." Whether she will bring us war or peace, or the middle state of non-intercourse, seems suspended in equal balance.[470]