Benson John Lossing

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violence of party spirit—inflammatory appeals to the people—washington menaced with impeachment, and charged with plundering the treasury—newspaper discussions—hamilton in defence of the treaty—jefferson's appeal to madison to come to the rescue—proceedings in boston—reconstruction of the cabinet—arrival of young lafayette—washington's friendship for him—caution and expediency—the exiles and the congress—their home at mount vernon—their departure for france.

The ratification of the treaty increased the violence of party spirit. The batteries of fiercest vituperation were now opened upon the president, and the habitual courtesy with which he had been treated was lost sight of in the fury of party hate.

The opponents of the treaty saw only one more expedient to defeat it, now that they had failed to intimidate Washington or cause him to withhold his signature. They started the idea, as a forlorn hope, that although the president might ratify, it still rested with the house of representatives to refuse, if they chose, the pecuniary means to carry the treaty into effect, and thus to nullify it. They, therefore, resolved to use every effort to accomplish their purposes in this way. The elections in the several states were not yet completed, and they felt confident that a majority had already been chosen who were hostile to the treaty.

The most inflammatory addresses were circulated, to influence the people against the president and the treaty, and to form a public opinion that should bear with potency upon the supreme legislature. “The president,” said one of these addresses, “has thrown the gauntlet, and shame on the coward heart that refuses to take it up. He has declared war against the people, by treating their opinions with contempt; he has forfeited his claim to their confidence, by acting in opposition to their will. Our liberties are in jeopardy, and we must either rescue them from the precipice or they will be lost for ever. One hope offers itself to us, and a consolatory one, too—the house of representatives of the United States. As we have looked in vain for patriotism from the president, let us turn our eyes toward that body; they are our immediate representatives; they feel our wants, participate in our injuries, and sympathize in our distresses. They never will submit to have our country degraded; they never will be passive under the outrages upon our constitution; they never will be the instruments of voting away the people's rights. As our application to the president has been treated with scorn, let us make our appeal to that body which has the power of impeachment, and we shall not find them step-fathers of their country. A treaty which has bartered away their rights can not, will not, be submitted to. Let us then, fellow-citizens, rally round our representatives, and we may still be free!”

Such appeals had a powerful effect; and a writer in the Aurora went so far as to charge Washington with having used the public money for his own private use! The charge was maintained with the most unblushing effrontery. When Congress met, petitions were forwarded to the house of representatives from all parts of the Union, bitterly denouncing the treaty, and praying that body to stand in the breach and rescue the country from the usurpations of the president and senate. The newspapers discussed the subject with great warmth; and Brockholst Livingston, over the signature of “Decius,” assailed the treaty with great ability. This aroused Hamilton, who had both spoken and written in favor of the treaty. He came to the tournament most gallantly, and, over the signature of “Camillus,” he dealt such powerful blows with his battle-axe of fact and logic; that “Decius” was quickly unhorsed. Jefferson, with his eagle vision, had watched the combat with intense interest from his eyry at Monticello; and when he saw the force of Hamilton's reasoning, and the power it must have upon the people, he shouted to Madison to join the lists and do battle against “Camillus,” and a smaller champion called “Curtius.” “Hamilton,” he exclaimed in a letter to Madison on the twenty-first of September, “is really a colossus to the anti-republican party. Without numbers, he is a host within himself. They have got themselves into a defile, where they might be finished; but too much security on the republican part will give time to his talents and indefatigableness to extricate them. We have had only middling performers to oppose to him. In truth, when he comes forward, there is nobody but yourself who can meet him. His adversaries have begun the attack, he has the advantage of answering them, and remains unanswered himself. A solid reply might yet completely demolish what was too feebly attacked, and has gathered strength from the weakness of the attack.” With his usual alarm-bell notes, Jefferson then spoke of “Hamilton, Jay,” etc., as engaged “in the boldest act they ever ventured on to undermine the government;” and exclaimed, in conclusion, “For God's sake, take up your pen and give a fundamental reply to 'Curtius' and 'Camillus.'”[86]

The opposition found other champions of the treaty to meet than newspaper writers. The friends of that instrument and the government rallied in various forms. A few days before the president signed the ratification, the Boston Chamber of Commerce, like that of New York, representing a large and influential class to be affected by the treaty, passed a resolution, with only one dissenting voice, in favor of ratification. Some violent Boston republicans, to counteract these expressions, used the mobocratic argument and paraded an effigy of Jay in the streets, and concluded the performance by burning it, attacking the house of the editor of a federal paper (from which they were repulsed by firearms), and keeping the New England capital in a disturbed state for several days. Philadelphia merchants, on the contrary, in large numbers, signed a memorial taking ground in favor of the treaty. This was imitated elsewhere, and these memorials went into the house of representatives with the denunciatory petitions.In the midst of all this storm, Washington remained calm, with his hand firmly resting upon the helm of state, and his eye steadily fixed upon the great compass and chart of integrity by which his course was always determined. In a reply to a friendly letter from General Knox, who assured him of a changing opinion in New England in favor of the treaty, he said:—

During the autumn, while these public discussions were at their height, Washington was called upon to reconstruct his cabinet on account of the resignation of Randolph, the secretary of state, and the death of Bradford, the attorney-general, both events having occurred in August. The president found some difficulty in filling Randolph's place. “In the appointment of the great officers of government,” Washington wrote to Colonel Carrington in October, “my aim has been to combine geographical situation, and sometimes other considerations, with abilities and fitness of known characters.” He had offered the place successively to Judge Paterson, of New Jersey, Thomas Johnson, of Maryland, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, of South Carolina, and Patrick Henry, of Virginia; but they all declined. In his letter to Henry, who, it was understood, was not very well pleased with the treaty, Washington said:—

After considerable delay, Colonel Pickering was transferred to the department of state, and James M'Henry, of Maryland, was appointed secretary of war. At the close of November, Charles Lee, of Virginia, accepted the office of attorney-general, as the successor of Bradford, and at the opening of Congress the cabinet was in working order, with apparently harmonious elements.

It was during these political agitations that George Washington Lafayette, a son of the marquis, arrived in the United States, to claim an asylum at the hands of Washington. He could not have appeared at a more inopportune moment; for political reasons rendered it inexpedient for the president, as such, to receive him; and to place him in his family might cause perplexities, connected with political affairs, prejudicial to the public tranquillity.

We have already noticed the flight of Lafayette from France before the fury of Jacobin fanaticism, and his incarceration in an Austrian dungeon, while his family were left to be the sport of fortune. In that dungeon the marquis was confined almost three years, in a cell three paces broad and five and a half long, containing no other ornament than two French verses which rhymed with the words “to suffer and to die.” And yet his great soul went out to his suffering fellow-man as free as the air of heaven; and with a toothpick (for he was deprived of pen and ink) he wrote to a princess, who sympathized with him, on a scrap of paper which came to him almost miraculously, and with soot and water, these noble words: “I know not what disposition has been made of my plantation at Cayenne, but I hope Madame Lafayette will take care that the negroes who cultivate it shall preserve their liberty.” He had set them all free.

The marchioness, as soon as she was allowed the privilege, hastened to Olmutz with her daughters to share the dungeon with the husband and father; while their son, whom they had named in honor of their illustrious friend, came to the United States with his tutor, M. Frestel, consigned to the fatherly care of Washington. Young Lafayette was then about seventeen years of age.

The two exiles arrived at Boston at the close of the summer of 1795, and they immediately sent information of the fact to the president, who was just on the point of leaving Philadelphia for Mount Vernon. Washington's first impulse was to take the young man to his bosom and cherish him as a son; but, as we have observed, grave reasons of state denied him that pleasure. After brief reflection, he sent the letters of the exiles, to Senator Cabot, of Boston, saying:—

General Knox, then in Boston, took much interest in the young Lafayette. In a letter to Washington, on the twenty-first of September, he said, “He goes by the name of Motier [a family name of his father], concealing his real name, lest some injury should arise to his mother, or to a young Mr. Russell of this town, now in France, who assisted in his escape.” Knox spoke of the exile as “a lovely young man, of excellent morals and conduct.”

Mr. Cabot readily undertook the duty solicited by Washington. He found Lafayette and his tutor in much perplexity. The attempt at concealment was futile. “Already M. Motier is known to too many persons,” wrote Mr. Cabot, “and a public festival announced by the French consul for Monday next, at which all their citizens in this vicinity are expected to attend, occasions serious embarrassments; to which is added, that some circumstances of delicacy relative to the family in which they are placed, make an immediate removal proper.” He further informed him that they were about to depart for New York, where they expected to be accommodated in the country-house of a French gentleman, their friend, where they would remain in retirement, until they should receive further directions from Washington. Mr. Cabot gave them letters to Colonel Wadsworth and Colonel Hamilton, and they departed.

In November, soon after his return to Philadelphia, Washington wrote an affectionate letter to young Lafayette, in which, after telling him the causes which rendered it necessary for them both to be circumspect, and desiring him to repair with his tutor to Colonel Hamilton, in the city of New York, who would see that they were well provided for, he said:—

The Congress at length took official notice of the presence of the son of Lafayette; and on the eighteenth of March, 1796, the house of representatives passed the following resolution and order:—

As chairman of the committee, Mr. Livingston wrote to young Lafayette as follows:—

This letter, and the resolutions of the house of representatives, young Lafayette forwarded to President Washington, and asked his advice as to the course he should pursue. Washington advised him to come to Philadelphia at the opening of the next session of Congress, occupy a room in his house, but to avoid society as much as possible. He complied, and remained in Philadelphia until the following spring, when Washington, on becoming a private citizen, embraced the son of his friend as if he had been his own child, and bore him to his home on the Potomac. There he remained until early in October, when the joyful news of the release of his father from confinement, and his restoration to his country and friends, caused him to leave for the seaboard to depart for France. He and M. Frestel sailed from New York on the twenty-sixth of October, 1797.

As young Lafayette was about to leave Mount Vernon, Washington placed a letter in his hands for his father, in which he said:—