Part 4
In May, 1785, Franklin returned to the United States, and Jefferson was appointed minister. “You replace Dr. Franklin,” said the Count of Vergennes when Jefferson announced his appointment. “I succeed,—no one can replace him,” was the reply.
Jefferson’s residence in Paris at this critical period was a fortunate occurrence. It would be a mistake to suppose that he derived his political principles from France:—he carried them there; but he was confirmed in them by witnessing the injustice and misery which resulted to the common people from the monarchical governments of Europe. To James Monroe he wrote in June, 1785: “The pleasure of the trip [to Europe] will be less than you expect, but the utility greater. It will make you adore your own country,—its soil, its climate, its equality, laws, people, and manners. My God! how little do my countrymen know what precious blessings they are in possession of and which no other people on earth enjoy! I confess I had no idea of it myself.”
To George Wythe he wrote in August, 1786: “Preach, my dear sir, a crusade against ignorance; establish and improve the law for educating the common people. Let our countrymen know that the people alone can protect us against these evils; and that the tax which will be paid for this purpose is not more than the thousandth part of what will be paid to kings, priests, and nobles, who will rise up among us if we leave the people in ignorance.” To Madison, he wrote in January, 1787: “This is a government of wolves over sheep.” Jefferson took the greatest pains to ascertain the condition of the laboring classes. In the course of a journey in the south of France, he wrote to Lafayette, begging him to survey the condition of the people for himself. “To do it most effectually,” he said, “you must be absolutely incognito; you must ferret the people out of their hovels, as I have done; look into their kettles; eat their bread; loll on their beds on pretense of resting yourself, but in fact to find if they are soft. You will feel a sublime pleasure in the course of the investigation, and a sublimer one hereafter, when you shall be able to apply your knowledge to the softening of their beds, or the throwing a morsel of meat into their kettle of vegetables.”
These excursions among the French peasantry, who, as Jefferson well knew, were ruinously taxed in order to support an extravagant court and an idle and insolent nobility, made him a fierce Republican. “There is not a crowned head in Europe,” he wrote to General Washington, in 1788, “whose talents or merits would entitle him to be elected a vestryman by the people of America.”
But for the French race Jefferson had an affinity. He was glad to live with people among whom, as he said, “a man might pass a life without encountering a single rudeness.” He liked their polished manners and gay disposition, their aptitude for science, for philosophy, and for art; even their wines and cookery suited his taste, and his preference in this respect was so well known that Patrick Henry once humorously stigmatized him as “a man who had abjured his native victuals.”
Jefferson’s stay in Paris corresponded exactly with the “glorious” period of the French Revolution. He was present at the Assembly of the Notables in 1787, and he witnessed the destruction of the Bastille in 1789.
“The change in this country,” he wrote in March, 1789, “is such as you can form no idea of. The frivolities of conversation have given way entirely to politics. Men, women, and children talk nothing else ... and mode has acted a wonderful part in the present instance. All the handsome young women, for example, are for the _tiers étât_, and this is an army more powerful in France than the 200,000 men of the king.”
The truth is that an intellectual and moral revolution preceded in France the outbreak of the populace. There was an interior conviction that the government of the country was excessively unjust and oppressive. A love of liberty, a feeling of fraternity, a passion for equality moved the intellect and even the aristocracy of France. In this crisis the reformers looked toward America, for the United States had just trodden the path upon which France was entering. “Our proceedings,” wrote Jefferson to Madison in 1789, “have been viewed as a model for them on every occasion.... Our [authority] has been treated like that of the Bible, open to explanation, but not to question.”
Jefferson’s advice was continually sought by Lafayette and others; and his house, maintained in the easy, liberal style of Virginia, was a meeting place for the Revolutionary statesmen. Jefferson dined at three or four o’clock; and after the cloth had been removed he and his guests sat over their wine till nine or ten in the evening.
In July, 1789, the National Assembly appointed a committee to draught a constitution, and the committee formally invited the American minister to assist at their sessions and favor them with his advice. This function he felt obliged to decline, as being inconsistent with his post of minister to the king. No man had a nicer sense of propriety than Jefferson; and he punctiliously observed the requirements of his somewhat difficult situation in Paris.
What gave Mr. Jefferson the greatest anxiety and trouble, was our relations with the piratical Barbary powers who held the keys of the Mediterranean and sometimes extended their depredations even into the Atlantic. It was a question of paying tribute or going to war; and most of the European powers paid tribute. In 1784, for example, the Dutch contributed to “the high, glorious, mighty, and most noble, King, Prince, and Emperor of Morocco,” a mass of material which included thirty cables, seventy cannon, sixty-nine masts, twenty-one anchors, fifty dozen sail-needles, twenty-four tons of pitch, two hundred and eighty loaves of sugar, twenty-four China punch-bowls, three clocks, and one “very large watch.”
Jefferson ascertained that the pirates would require of the United States, as the price of immunity for its commerce, a tribute of about three hundred thousand dollars per annum. “Surely,” he wrote home, “our people will not give this. Would it not be better to offer them an equal treaty? If they refuse, why not go to war with them?” And he pressed upon Mr. Jay, who held the secretaryship of foreign affairs, as the office was then called, the immediate establishment of a navy. But Congress would do nothing; and it was not till Jefferson himself became President that the Barbary pirates were dealt with in a wholesome and stringent manner. During the whole term of his residence at Paris he was negotiating with the Mediterranean powers for the release of unfortunate Americans, many of whom spent the best part of their lives in horrible captivity.
Mr. Jefferson’s self-imposed duties were no less arduous. He kept four colleges informed of the most valuable new inventions, discoveries, and books. He had a Yankee talent for mechanical improvements, and he was always on the alert to obtain anything of this nature which he thought might be useful at home. Jefferson himself, by the way, invented the revolving armchair, the buggy-top, and a mould board for a plough. He bought books for Franklin, Madison, Monroe, Wythe, and himself. He informed one correspondent about Watt’s engine, another about the new system of canals. He smuggled rice from Turin in his coat pockets; and he was continually dispatching to agricultural societies in America seeds, roots, nuts, and plants. Houdin was sent over by him to make the statue of Washington; and he forwarded designs for the new capitol at Richmond. For Buffon he procured the skin of an American panther, and also the bones and hide of a New Hampshire moose, to obtain which Governor Sullivan of that State organized a hunting-party in the depth of winter and cut a road through the forest for twenty miles in order to bring out his quarry.
Jefferson was the most indefatigable of men, and he did not relax in Paris. He had rooms at a Carthusian monastery to which he repaired when he had some special work on hand. He kept a carriage and horses, but could not afford a saddle horse. Instead of riding, he took a walk every afternoon, usually of six or seven miles, occasionally twice as long. It was while returning with a friend from one of these excursions that he fell and fractured his right wrist; and the fracture was set so imperfectly that it troubled him ever afterward. It was characteristic of Jefferson that he said nothing to his friend as to the injury until they reached home, though his suffering from it was great; and, also, that he at once began to write with the other hand, making numerous entries, on the very night of the accident, in a writing which, though stiff, was, and remains, perfectly clear.
Mr. Jefferson’s two daughters had been placed at a convent school near Paris, and he was surprised one day to receive a note from Martha, the elder, asking his permission to remain in the convent for the rest of her life as a nun. For a day or two she received no answer. Then her father called in his carriage, and after a short interview with the abbess took his daughters away; and thenceforth Martha presided, so far as her age permitted, over her father’s household. Not a word upon the subject of her request ever passed between them; and long afterward, in telling the story to her own children, she praised Mr. Jefferson’s tact in dealing with what she described as a transient impulse.
After this incident, Jefferson, thinking that it was time to take his daughters home, obtained leave of absence for six months; and the little family landed at Norfolk, November 18, 1789. They journeyed slowly homeward, stopping at one friend’s house after another, and, two days before Christmas, arrived at Monticello, where they were rapturously greeted by the slaves, who took the four horses from the carriage and drew it up the steep incline themselves; and when he alighted, Mr. Jefferson, in spite of himself, was carried into the house on the arms of his black servants and friends.
VIII
SECRETARY OF STATE
Mr. Jefferson had a strong desire to resume his post as minister to France, but he yielded to Washington’s earnest request that he should become Secretary of State in the new government. He lingered long enough at Monticello to witness the marriage of his daughter Martha to Thomas Mann Randolph, and then set out upon a cold, wet journey of twenty-one days, reaching New York, which was then the seat of government, late in March, 1790. He hired a small house at No. 57 Maiden Lane, and immediately attacked the arrears of work which had been accumulating for six months. The unusual confinement, aggravated, perhaps, by a homesickness, clearly revealed in his letters, for his daughters and for Monticello, brought on what seems to have been a neuralgic headache which lasted for three weeks. It may have been caused in part by the climate of New York, as to which Mr. Jefferson observed: “Spring and fall they never have, so far as I can learn. They have ten months of winter, two of summer, with some winter days interspersed.” But there were other causes beside homesickness and headache which made Jefferson unhappy in his new position. Long afterward he described them as follows:—
“I had left France in the first year of her Revolution, in the fervor of natural rights and zeal for reformation. My conscientious devotion to those rights could not be heightened, but it had been aroused and excited by daily exercise. The President received me cordially, and my colleagues and the circle of principal citizens apparently with welcome. The courtesies of dinners given to me, as a stranger newly arrived among them, placed me at once in their familiar society. But I cannot describe the wonder and mortification with which the table conversations filled me. Politics were the chief topic, and a preference of kingly over republican government was evidently the favorite sentiment. An apostate I could not be, nor yet a hypocrite; and I found myself for the most part the only advocate on the republican side of the question, unless among the guests there chanced to be some member of that party from the legislative houses.”
It must be remembered that Jefferson’s absence in France had been the period of the Confederacy, when the inability of Congress to enforce its laws and to control the States was so evident and so disastrous that the need of a stronger central government had been impressed on men’s minds. The new Constitution had been devised to supply that need, but it was elastic in its terms, and it avoided all details. Should it be construed in an aristocratic or in a democratic spirit, and should the new nation be given an aristocratic or a democratic twist? This was a burning question, and it gave rise to that long struggle led by Hamilton on one side and by Jefferson on the other, which ended with the election of Jefferson as President in the year 1800.
Hamilton and his party utterly disbelieved in government by the people.(2) John Adams declared that the English Constitution, barring its element of corruption, was an ideal constitution. Hamilton went farther and asserted that the English form of government, corruption and all, was the best practicable form. An aristocratic senate, chosen for a long term, if not for life, was thought to be essential even by Mr. Adams. Hamilton’s notion was that mankind were incapable of self-government, and must be governed in one or two ways,—by force or by fraud. Property was, in his view, the ideal basis of government; and he was inclined to fix the possession of “a thousand Spanish dollars” as the proper qualification for a voter.
The difference between the Hamiltonian and the Jeffersonian view arises chiefly from a different belief as to the connection between education and morality. All aristocratic systems must, in the last analysis, be founded either upon brute force or else upon the assumption that education and morality go hand-in-hand, and that the well-to-do and best educated class is morally superior to the less educated. Jefferson rejected this assumption, and all real believers in democracy must take their stand with him. He once stated his creed upon this point in a letter as follows:—
“The moral sense or conscience is as much a part of man as his leg or arm.... It may be strengthened by exercise, as may any particular limb of the body. This sense is submitted, indeed, in some degree to the guidance of reason, but it is a small stock which is required for this, even a less one than what we call common sense. State a moral case to a ploughman and a professor. The former will decide it as well and often better than the latter, because he has not been led astray by artificial rules.”
This is sound philosophy. The great problems in government, whether they relate to matters external or internal, are moral, not intellectual. There are, indeed, purely intellectual problems, such as the question between free silver and a gold standard; and as to these problems, the people may go wrong. But they are not vital. No nation ever yet achieved glory or incurred destruction by taking one course rather than another in a matter of trade or finance. The crucial questions are moral questions, and experience has shown that as to such matters the people can be trusted. As Jefferson himself said, “The will of the majority, the natural law of every society, is the only sure guardian of the rights of man. Perhaps even this may sometimes err; but its errors are honest, solitary, and short-lived.”
Washington’s cabinet was made up on the theory that it should represent not the party in power, but both parties,—for two parties already existed, the Federalists and the anti-Federalists, who, under Jefferson’s influence, soon became known by the better name of Republicans. The cabinet consisted of four members, Jefferson, Secretary of State, Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, Henry Knox, Secretary of War, and Edmund Randolph, Attorney-General.
Knox sided almost always with Hamilton, and Randolph was an inconstant supporter of Jefferson. Though an able and learned man, he was given to hair-splitting and hesitation, and, in allusion to his habit of arguing on one side, but finally voting upon the other, Jefferson once remarked that he usually gave the shell to his friends, and reserved the oyster for his opponents.
The political opinions of Jefferson and Hamilton were so diametrically opposed that the cabinet was soon torn by dissension. Hamilton was for a strong government, for surrounding the President with pomp and etiquette, for a central authority as against the authority of the States. In pursuance of these ideas, he brought forward his famous measures for assumption of the state debts by the national government, for the funding of the national debt, and finally for the creation of a national bank. Jefferson opposed these measures, and, although the assumption and the funding laws had grave faults, and led to speculation, and in the case of many persons to financial ruin, yet it must be admitted that Jefferson never appreciated their merits.
The truth is that both Hamilton and Jefferson were essential to the development of this country; and the principles of each have been adopted in part, and rejected in part. Hamilton’s conception of a central government predominating over the state governments has been realized, though not nearly to the extent to which he would have carried it. On the other hand, his various schemes for making the government into an aristocracy instead of a democracy have all been abandoned, or, like the Electoral College, turned to a use the opposite of what he intended. So, Jefferson’s view of state rights has not strictly been maintained; but his fundamental principles of popular government and popular education have made the United States what it is, and are destined, we hope, when fully developed, to make it something better yet.
No less an authority than that of Washington, who appreciated the merits of both men, could have kept the peace between them. Hamilton under an assumed name attacked Jefferson in the public prints. Jefferson never published a line unsigned; but he permitted Philip Freneau, who had slight employment as a translator in his department, and the trifling salary of $250 a year, to wage war against Hamilton in the gazette which Freneau published; and he even stood by while Freneau attacked Washington. Washington indeed once gave Jefferson a hint on this subject, which the latter refused to take. “He was evidently sore and warm,” wrote Jefferson, “and I took his intention to be that I should interfere in some way with Freneau, perhaps withdraw his appointment of translating clerk to my office. But I will not do it. His paper has saved our constitution, which was galloping fast into monarchy.... And the President has not, ... with his usual good sense and _sang froid_, ... seen that, though some bad things had passed through it to the public, yet the good have predominated immensely.”
In the spring of 1792, Jefferson, who had now been two years in office, was extremely anxious to retire, not only because his situation at Washington was unpleasant, but because his affairs at home had been so neglected during his long absences that he was in danger of bankruptcy. His estate was large, but it was incumbered by a debt to English creditors of $13,000. Some years before he had sold for cash a farm near Monticello in order to discharge this debt; but at that time the Revolutionary war had begun, and the Virginia legislature passed an act inviting all men owing money to English creditors to deposit the same in the state treasury, the State agreeing to pay it over to the English creditors after the war. Jefferson accordingly deposited the $13,000 in gold which he had just received. Later, however, this law was rescinded, and the money received under it was paid back, not in gold, but in paper money of the State, which was then so depreciated as to be almost worthless. In riding by the farm thus disposed of, Jefferson in after years would sometimes point to it and say: “That farm I once sold for an overcoat;”—the price of the overcoat having been the $13,000 in paper money. Cornwallis, as we have seen, destroyed Jefferson’s property to an amount more than double this debt, which might be considered as a second payment of it; but Jefferson finally paid it the third time,—and this time into the hands of the actual creditor. Meanwhile, he wrote: “The torment of mind I endure till the moment shall arrive when I shall not owe a shilling on earth is such really as to render life of little value.”
Urged by all these motives, Jefferson had resolved to resign his office in 1792, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Washington; but the attacks made upon him by the Federalists, especially those made in the newspapers, were so violent that a retirement at that time would have given the public cause to believe that he had been driven from office by his enemies. Jefferson, therefore, concluded to remain Secretary of State a few months longer; and those few, as it happened, were the most important of the whole term.
On January 21, 1793, King Louis of France was executed, and within a week thereafter England was at war with the new rulers of the French. Difficult questions at once arose under our treaties with France. The French people thought that we were in honor bound to assist them in their struggle against Great Britain, as they had assisted us; and they sent over as minister “Citizen” Genet, in the frigate L’Embuscade. The frigate, carrying forty guns and three hundred men, sailed into the harbor of Charleston, April 8, 1793, with a liberty-cap for her figure-head, and a British prize in her wake. Citizen Genet, even for a Frenchman, was a most indiscreet and hot-headed person, and before he had been a week on shore he had issued commissions to privateers manned by American citizens. L’Embuscade then proceeded to Philadelphia, where, as in Charleston, Citizen Genet was welcomed with the utmost enthusiasm. His coming was hailed by the Republicans generally with rapture; and their cry was for war. “I wish,” wrote Jefferson, in a confidential letter to Monroe, “that we may be able to repress the people within the limits of a fair neutrality.”
This was the position taken also by Washington and the whole cabinet; and it is a striking example of Jefferson’s wisdom, justice, and firmness, that, although the bulk of the Republicans were carried off their feet by sympathy with France and with Genet, he, the very person in the United States who most loved the French and best understood the causes and motives of the French Revolution, withstood the storm, and kept his eye fixed upon the interests of his own country. England, contrary to the treaty which closed the Revolutionary War, still retained her military posts in the west; and she was the undisputed mistress of the sea. War with her would therefore have been suicidal for the United States. The time for that had not yet come. Moreover, if the United States had taken sides with France, a war with Spain also would inevitably have followed; and Spain then held Florida and the mouth of the Mississippi.