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When the last session of the second Congress commenced in Philadelphia on the fifth of November, 1792, ominous clouds were gathering in the political horizon, which gave Washington many apprehensions of an impending storm. Party spirit was growing more and more violent; war with the Indians in the Northwest was progressing; discontents with the operations of the excise laws were assuming alarming aspects; the attitude of the European governments brought serious questions to those who controlled public affairs in the United States; and the cabinet, where unity of feeling was necessary in order to counsel the president well, was yet torn by dissentions, with no prospect of their being healed.

There was much apparent good feeling among the members of Congress when they first met, but action upon public business soon aroused party spirit in all its rancor. It was first summoned from its sleep by a motion for the secretaries of war and of the treasury to attend the house, and give such information as they might possess concerning the conduct of the Indian war in the Northwest, with which there was much public dissatisfaction. This proposition raised a cry of alarm from those in the house opposed to the administration. It was resisted as unconstitutional, and threatening to subject the house to executive influence that might be dangerous—that heads of departments would control the legislature.

A motion to refer the portion of the president's message relating to the redemption of the public debt to the secretary of the treasury, to report a plan, called forth still more angry opposition, and Jefferson's charges of corruption were heard on every side. The secretary of the treasury was violently assailed; and dark insinuations were made that members of the house were implicated with Hamilton in dishonest proceedings in relation to the assumption of state debts, the operation of the Indian war, etc. And when Hamilton, in his report, offered a scheme for the redemption of the public debt that effectually silenced the clamors of his enemies, who had insisted that he regarded that debt as a public blessing and meant to fix it upon the country as an incubus, they changed their plans of opposition.

They called upon the president first for particular information as to the several sums of money borrowed by his authority, the terms of the loans, and the application of the money. These questions being explicitly answered, another call was made by an unscrupulous member of the opposition, from Virginia, for more minute information upon financial matters. He made an elaborate speech in presenting the motion, in which, in effect, he charged the secretary of the treasury with being a defaulter to the amount of a million and a half of dollars! Other charges having a similar bearing upon the integrity of Hamilton were made, and the administration was most foully aspersed. The speaker—acting, it was believed, under the influence of his superiors in office—based his charges upon the letter of returns and other treasury statements.

These charges were met by Hamilton in a calm and dignified report, which ought to have disarmed malignity and made implacable party spirit hide its head in shame. It was baffled for a moment, but not dismayed; and, selecting points in the secretary's management of the financial concerns of the government, the accuser already alluded to proceeded to frame nine resolutions of censure, for which he asked the vote of the house. The result was, says a careful and candid historian, “much to raise the character of the secretary of the treasury, by convincing the great body of impartial men, capable of understanding the subject, that, both as regarded talent and integrity, he was admirably qualified for his office, and that the multiplied charges against him had been engendered by envy, suspicion, and ignorance.”[41]

1793

Up to this time, the opposition had not ventured to show any disrespect to Washington. He had wisely avoided assuming in any degree the character of a leader of a party, and had labored with conscientious zeal for the public good, without the least regard to private friendships, or with feelings of enmity toward personal friends who had deserted his administration. Madison was now a leader of the opposition, yet Washington esteemed him none the less, because he believed him to be honest and patriotic.

But now, party rancor was gradually usurping the place of that veneration which every man felt for the character of Washington; and that jealousy of everything aristocratic in fact or appearance which was at that moment inaugurating a republic in France, with a baptism of blood, hesitated not to show personal disrespect to the president. The people in different parts of the Union, with spontaneous affection, prepared to celebrate the birthday of Washington on the twenty-second of February, 1793, with balls, parties, visits of congratulation, etc. Many members of Congress were desirous of waiting upon the president, in testimony of their respect for the chief magistrate of the republic, and a motion was made to adjourn for half an hour for that purpose, when quite an acrimonious debate ensued. The opposition, with real or feigned alarm, denounced the proposition as a species of homage unworthy of republicans; a tendency to monarchy; the setting up of an idol for hero-worship, dangerous to the liberties of the nation! Freneau's paper condemned the birthday celebration; and in view of the great dangers to which the republic was exposed by the monarchical bias of many leading men, a New Jersey member of the republican party in the house moved that the mace carried by the marshall on state occasions—“an unmeaning symbol, unworthy the dignity of a republican government”—be sent to the mint, broken up, and the silver coined and placed in the treasury. The peculiar state of public feeling at that time, irritated by prophets of evil, affords a reasonable excuse for these jealousies.

Washington was not unmindful of these signs, and the necessity of paying due respect even to the prejudices of the people; and as the time for his second inauguration was drawing near, he asked the opinions of his cabinet concerning the forms to be used on that occasion. Jefferson and Hamilton proposed that he should take the oath of office privately at his own house, a certificate of the fact to be deposited in the state department. Knox and Randolph proposed to have the ceremony in public, but without any ostentatious display. Washington's opinion coincided with the latter; and at a cabinet meeting held on the first of March, Mr. Jefferson being the only absentee, it was agreed that the oath should be administered by Judge Cushing, of the supreme court of the United States, in public, in the senate chamber, on the fourth of the month, at twelve o'clock at noon, and that the “president go without form, attended by such gentlemen as he shall choose, and return without form except that he be preceded by the marshall.”

Accordingly, a little before twelve o'clock, the president rode from his residence to the Congress hall in his cream-colored coach drawn by six horses, preceded by the marshall, as proposed, and accompanied by a great concourse of citizens, and took the oath in the senate chamber. The heads of departments, foreign ministers, members of Congress, and as many spectators as could find room in the apartment, were present. Previous to the administration of the oath by Judge Cushing, Washington arose and said:—

The oath was then administered, and the president returned to his residence as he came.[42]It was with sincere reluctance that Washington entered upon the duties of the office of chief magistrate of the nation for a second term. “To you,” he said in a letter to Colonel Humphreys (then abroad) soon after his inauguration—“To you, who know my love of retirement and domestic life, it is unnecessary to say, that in accepting this reappointment I relinquish those personal enjoyments to which I am peculiarly attached. The motives which induced my acceptance are the same which ever ruled my decision when the public desire—or, as my countrymen are pleased to denominate it, the public good—was placed in the scale against my personal enjoyments and private interest. The latter I have ever considered as subservient to the former; and perhaps in no instance of my life have I been more sensible of the sacrifice than at the present; for at my age the love of retirement grows every day more and more powerful, and the death of my nephew will, I apprehend, cause my private concerns to suffer very much.”[43]

On account of this death, Washington made a hurried visit to Mount Vernon in April, and while there the important intelligence reached him that France had declared war against England and Holland, an event which prophesied a general European war. Almost simultaneously with this intelligence came that of the execution of King Louis, by order of the National Convention of France. The king, who had been a mere shuttle-cock of faction for two years, was beheaded on the twenty-first of January, with circumstances of brutality which make humanity shudder. His death had been long predestinated by the ferocious men who ruled France, and, to accomplish it with a semblance of justice, he had been accused of crimes of which he was utterly innocent. Even at the last moment, when standing before the implement of death, he was made to feel the brutality of men in power. He looked complacently upon the vast multitude who came to see him die, and was about to say a few words, when the officer in charge, with ferocious emphasis, said, “No speeches! come, no speeches!” and ordered the drums to be beaten and the trumpets to be sounded. Louis was heard to say, “I forgive my enemies; may God forgive them, and not lay my innocent blood to the charge of the nation! God bless my people!” Thus perished a monarch, patriotic and amiable, but too weak in intellectual and moral power to control the terrible storm of popular vengeance which a long series of abuses had engendered.

For many months Washington had watched with great anxiety the manifestations of public feeling in the United States while the bloody work of the French Revolution was progressing. He saw with alarm the spirit of that Revolution, so widely different from that which had shaken off the fetters of kingly rule in America, working insidiously into the constitution of the politics of the United States, and passion assuming the control of reason in the minds of his people. This was specially manifested by an outburst of popular feeling when the proclamation of the French republic reached America, and news that French arms had made a conquest of the Austrian Netherlands. Forgetting the friendship of Holland during our war for independence, and the spirit of genuine liberty (of which that, flaunting its bloody banners in France, was but a ferocious caricature) which had prevailed in the Netherlands and made it the asylum of the persecuted for conscience' sake for centuries, the people of Boston and other places held a celebration in honor of the temporary victory. In the New England capital there was a grand barbecue. An ox was roasted whole, and then, decorated and elevated upon a car drawn by sixteen horses, the flags of France and the United States displayed from its horns, it was paraded through the streets, followed by carts bearing sixteen hundred loaves of bread and two hogsheads of punch. These were distributed among the people; and at the same time a party of three hundred, with Samuel Adams (lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts) at their head, assisted by the French consul, sat down to dinner in Faneuil hall. To the children of all the schools, who were paraded in the streets, cakes were presented bearing the inscription, “Liberty and Equality.” By public subscription, the sums owed by prisoners for debt, in jail, were paid, and the victims were set free. There was a general jubilee in Boston on that barbecue day.

With a similar spirit the news of the death of the king was hailed by the leaders of the republican party in the United States; and when intelligence of the French declaration of war against England went over the land, a fervor of enthusiasm in favor of the old ally was awakened which called loudly for compliance with the spirit and letter of the treaty of 1778, by which the United States and France became allies in peace and war. By that treaty the United States were bound to guarantee the French possessions in America; and by a treaty of commerce executed at the same time, French privateers and prizes were entitled to shelter in the American ports, while those of the enemies of France should be excluded.

There was now a wide-spreading sentiment in favor of an active participation with France, on the part of the United States, in her struggles against armed Europe; and many, in the wild enthusiasm of the moment, would not have hesitated an instant in precipitating our country into a war. Indeed, for a while, the universal sentiment was a cheer for republican France, whose Convention had declared, in the name of the French nation, that they would grant fraternity and assistance to every people who wished to recover their liberty; and they charged the executive power to send the necessary orders to the generals “to give assistance to such people, and to defend those citizens who may have been, or who may be, vexed for the cause of liberty.”

Filled with the spirit of this declaration, and charged with the performance of political functions seldom exercised by diplomats, Edmund Charles Genet—“Citizen Genet,” as he was termed in the new nomenclature of the French republic—came to America at this time, as the representative of that republic, to supersede the more conservative M. Ternant. Genet was a man of culture, spoke the English language fluently, possessed a pleasing address, was lively, frank, and unguarded, and as fiery as the most intense Jacobins could wish. He arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, on the eighth of April, five days after the news of the French declaration of war reached New York. His presence intensified the enthusiasm with which the country was then glowing; and for a moment, until sober reason assumed the sceptre, all opposition to the revolutionary sentiment was swept away by the tide of popular zeal for a cause that seemed identical with that which secured independence to the United States. “Is it wonderful,” says the latest biographer of Jefferson, “that American popular sympathy swelled to a pitch of wild enthusiasm, when an emissary came from the new republic, surrounded with its prestige; proclaiming wild, stirring doctrines; declaring the unbounded affection of his country for the United States; scorning the arts of old diplomacy, and mixing freely with the democratic masses; not declining to talk of the important objects of his mission in promiscuous assemblies of plain working men; and exhibiting in his deportment that practical democracy, that fraternity, which men in his position, of English blood, never exhibit?”[44]

These events excited the deepest anxiety in the mind of Washington. He had no confidence whatever in the men at the head of public affairs in France—the self-constituted government of that unhappy nation. “Those in whose hands the government is intrusted,” he said in a letter to Governor Lee, “are ready to tear each other to pieces, and will, more than probably, prove the worst foes the country has.” He deeply deplored the wild enthusiasm which was threatening to involve his country in the European war then kindling. “Unwise would we be in the extreme,” he wrote to Gouverneur Morris a month before, “to involve ourselves in the contests of European nations, where our weight would be but small, though the loss to ourselves would be certain.” With such views Washington hastened back to Philadelphia; for he foresaw the necessity for announcing the disposition of his country toward the belligerent powers, and the propriety of restraining as far as possible his fellow-citizens from taking part in the contest. He immediately despatched an express to Philadelphia with the following letter to Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state:—

Washington reached Philadelphia on the seventeenth, and on the nineteenth held a cabinet council, having on the previous day submitted to each member of his cabinet the following questions for their consideration:—

The cabinet meeting to consider these questions was held at the president's house. All the heads of departments and the attorney-general were present; and after a protracted discussion, it was unanimously determined that a proclamation should issue forbidding citizens of the United States to take part in any hostilities on the seas, with or against any of the belligerent powers, and warning them against carrying to any such powers any of those articles deemed contraband according to the modern usage of nations; and enjoining them from all acts and proceedings inconsistent with the duties of a friendly nation toward those at war. It was also unanimously agreed that a minister from the republic of France should be received. The remaining questions were postponed for further consideration.

In the excited state of the public mind, and the proclivity of the popular feeling toward sympathy with France, Washington's proclamation met with the severest censures. Neither his unbounded popularity nor the reverence for his character, as a wise, and honest, and patriotic man, were proof against the operations of that feeling; and the proclamation was assailed with the greatest vehemence. Every epithet in the vocabulary of the opposition party was applied to it. It was stigmatized as a royal edict, an unwarrantable and daring assumption of executive power, and an open manifestation, of the president and his political friends, of partiality for England and hostility to France. And it seems fair to infer, from his letters at that time, that Mr. Jefferson, who reluctantly voted in the cabinet for the proclamation, governed by his almost fanatical hatred of Hamilton and his sympathy with the French regicides, secretly promoted a feeling so hostile to the administration.

The wisdom of the proclamation,[46] and the position of neutrality which the government of the United States assumed at that time, was soon apparent, and has been fully vindicated by the logic of subsequent events.