Note—In the volume containing the "Journals of the Military Expedition of Major General John Sullivan against the Six Nations of Indians in 1779," prepared by Frederick Cook, Secretary of State, and published by the State in 1887, on page 285 et seq, is published part of the Journal of Nathaniel Webb, and a note says that a portion of the Journal cannot be found.
In a scrap-book originally kept by Thos. Maxwell, Esq., which was recently bought in an old book shop in New York, I find the missing Journal, and give herewith the portion supposed to be lost.
WILLIAM WAIT.
Note—In Col. Gansevoort's Journal of the same expedition, the entry is as follows:
"31st.—Decamped at 8 o'clock,—marched over mountainous ground until we arrived at the forks of Newtown—there entered on a low bottom, (Tuttle's flats), crossed the Kayuga branch, (Newtown creek), and encamped on a pine plain. Much good land about Newtown. Here we left the Tioga branch to our left."
September 1.—The army moved at 8 A. M. Several defiles and a large swamp occasioned our Brigade to encamp about three miles in the rear of the army. The army encamped that night at Catharine's town. The enemy had all fled from this town the night before and left an old squaw.
2.—Our brigade joined the army at Catharine's town. Lay the remaining part of the day for refreshment, &c.
3.—We destroyed some five fields of corn and decamped at 8 A. M. Marched this day about 11 miles. Encamped that night near the banks of the Seneca Lake. Marched this day through a remarkable country for timber.
4.—Decamped at 9 A. M. Burnt a small town on this day's march. Encamped at 7 P. M. The country still remains well timbered.
5.—Decamped at 10 A. M. Marched this day about six miles. Encamped that night at Conoyah, a beautiful town situated between the Seneca and Kengah lakes—distance between those lakes 8 miles. (Gansevoort writes it Kandaiah.)
6.—Lay in encampment. This town is beautifully situated in several respects—a fine level country—some fine fields of corn, a fine apple orchard, about twenty houses—situated about twenty miles from Seneca lake. One white man deserted from the enemy that had been taken prisoner last summer from Wyoming. Several horses were captured at this town. Decamped at 4 P. M., moved about 4 miles. Encamped in a beautiful piece of woods near the Lake. Col. Gansevoort, of our Brigade, was sent to destroy Kengah town joining Kengah lake, where they burnt several houses, got about twenty horses, &c.
7.—Decamped. Marched to Kanadesago, a town situated about three miles from the west end of the lake, the capital of the Senecas. (This was what is called the old Castle near Geneva.) Crossing the Seneca creek (or outlet) and several large defiles occasioned our not arriving in town till some time in the evening. This town consists of about 60 houses. Several large fields of corn. We found a white male child the enemy had left behind.
8.—The army was employed in destroying corn, beans, fruit trees, &c. A detachment sent to destroy a town about 12 miles from this town. (This was Cashong, Kashonguash, on the west side of the Seneca.)
9.—All the sick and lame sent to Tioga. At 11 A. M. we marched, following the road that leads to Niagara. Marched about 13 miles. Encamped near a brook that night.
10.—Decamped at 6 A. M. Marched this day about 13 miles—part of the day through a swampy country, abounding chiefly in beech and maple, some remarkably large white ash trees—latter part of the day through a grassy country. Passed the end of Connandockque lake. Encamped near some fine fields of corn. This town contains about 20 houses.
11.—Decamped at 4 A. M., after destroying the town and vegetables, &c. Marched this day to Hannayouya (Honeoye). This town is situated at the end of a small Lake of the same name—contains about 15 houses—a large flat of excellent land.
12.—The provisions and superfluous baggage of the army were left at this town, with a guard of about 200 men and two field pieces. The army decamped at 11 A. M. and marched towards the Genesee flats. Marched about 10 miles and encamped in the woods—passed this day a small lake called Konyoughojoh.
13.—Decamped at 6 A. M. Marched about two miles and halted at Adjustah. This town contains about 26 houses. While we halted at this town, Lieut. Boyd, with 20 men of the Rifle Corps, was sent to the next town to reconnoiter the enemy. On his return about 700 of the enemy ambushed him, killed and took 18 of the party. After the corn, &c., was destroyed and the town set in flames, we moved off to the next town. Our brigade marched some miles around to gain the rear of the enemy, but as usual they had fled before us. This town contains about 18 houses, situated at the southern end of the Genesee flats, on the banks of a small river that leads into the Genesee river.
14.—9 A. M. the army decamped, passed the river, entered the Genesee flats. This flat is judged to contain near 6,000 acres. We passed the Genesee river. This river runs with a strong current out of a hilly country. Three miles below where we forded, is navigable to lake Ontario. We burnt a small town on the bank of the river and marched that night to Genesee castle. There the body of Lieut. Boyd and one man was found murdered in a barbarous manner, too horrid to mention. This town is the metropolis of that nation; contains about 140 houses. Some fine buildings in it; situated about 40 miles from Niagara, on the south side of the Genesee river. The soil is exceedingly rich for 10 or 12 miles along the river. In and about this town, it was judged there were 800 acres of corn, beans, and vegetables of every kind.
15.—The whole army was employed in destroying the corn, &c. Now the general having completed and fulfilled his orders, after destroying the corn and setting the town in flames, the army passed the river and encamped upon the flats. One woman and one child made their escape from the savages and came to us that evening.
16.—Lay by to destroy corn along the flats. Decamped at 10 A. M. Encamped at Aojuhtah.
17.—Decamped at gun firing. Encamped at Honeoye.
18.-Decamped at 10 A. M. that day to Canandaigua. Encamped on the east side of the Lake.
19.—Marched to Connadasago.
20.—A party of 900 men was detached under command of Col. Butler, to destroy the Kengah tribe, and a party of 100 men under command of Col. Gansevoort to destroy part of the Mohawk tribe. Decamped at 3 P. M. and encamped on the east side of Seneca Lake.
21.—A party of 100 men was detached under Col. Dearborn to destroy the towns on the west side of Kenkah lake. Decamped at 8 A. M., passed Candiah about three miles and encamped at 4 P. M.
22.—Decamped at 7 A. M. Encamped that night within seven miles of Catharine town.
24.—(23d.?) Decamped at 7 A. M., passed Catharine town and encamped near the Big Swamp that night.
24.—Decamped at 5 A. M., passed the swamp and halted some time for refreshment. Encamped that night at Fort Reed, where we met provisions and stores for the reception of the Army. Upon our arrival at this place, (now Elmira), 13 cannon were discharged from the fort and was returned from one of our pieces 15 times. The latter was discharged in the space of one minute and a half. Dried provisions, &c.
(Colonel Gansevoort's Journal notes the proceedings of this day as follows: "Passed the swamp so much dreaded from its badness, without any difficulty and arrived at the forks of Newtown, where Capt. Reed with a detachment of 200 men had thrown up a breastwork to guard some stores and cattle brought forward from Tioga for the army in case of necessity. Saluted by 13 rounds of cannon from the breast-work, which number we returned from our artillery.")
Fort Reed was on the west side of the Newtown creek and on the north bank of the Tioga, where the creek falls into the river. It was a breast-work and was surrounded by palisades including some three or four acres. The western line of palisades can be traced on the west side of the junction canal and on the east side of Water st., a little south of the Fair grounds. The Journal continues.
25.—All the loaded muskets in the army were discharged at 5 A. M. The army was drawn up in one line and fired three rounds per man. After the discharge of 13 cannon, for our new ally the King of Spain, several oxen were killed for the officers and men.
(Col. Gansevoort's Journal thus describes this affair: "25.—This morning the small arms of the whole army were discharged at 5 o'clock. The whole were drawn up in one line, with a field piece on the right of each brigade, to fire afeu de joie—1st. thirteen rounds of cannon; 2d. a running fire of musketry, from right to left—repeated twice. Fifty oxen were killed on this joyous occasion, one delivered to each Brigade and one to the Artillery and staff. This was done in consequence of Spain having declared war against Britain.")
26.—At 12 A. M., the party under command of Col. Dearborn came in after destroying a fine country on the west side of the Kengah Lake. They brought in two squaws with them.
27.—400 men under the command of Col. Courtland, was employed in destroying corn up the river. 30 boats arrived from Tioga.
28.—All the sick were sent to Tioga. The party under the command of Col. Butler, returned from destroying the Kengah tribe. They found a most beautiful country abounding in vast quantities of corn and vegetables of all kinds; the same party under command of Col. Courtland, was employed up the river; also, 500 men were employed down the river, towards Tioga, destroying corn and vegetables on the flats.
29.—Decamped 6 A. M. Encamped that night 3 miles below Chemung and within 3 miles of Tioga.
30.—Decamped at 6 A. M., arrived at Fort Sullivan at 1 P. M. Upon our arrival the garrison discharged 13 cannon and we returned the same. Pitched tents on the ground we occupied before.
October 3.—A party of 500 men turned out to load the boats and demolish Fort Sullivan. The army drew 6 days' flour to carry them to Wyoming.
4.—Decamped at 6 A. M. Passed the river and encamped that night within 5 miles of Standing Stone, near the river.
5.—All the cattle, stores and horses were sent down to Wyoming. The whole went on board the boats. The fleet got under way at 6 A. M.
6.—The fleet got under way at 9 A. M. Arrived at evening at Shawney Flats.
7.—The whole fleet got under way at 9 A. M., and arrived at Wyoming at 2 P. M. When it hove in sight 13 cannon were fired by the garrison and returned by the fleet. The army encamped near the garrison.
8.—Two hundred men were detached to repair the road from this post to Easton and to remain there until the army arrives.
10.—Gen. Sullivan set out for Easton, leaving the command to Gen. Clinton. Decamped at 11 A. M. Encamped that night at Bullock's tavern.
11.—The rear of the army came up to camp at 9 A. M. Marched this day and encamped between the Shades of Death and the Big Swamp.
12.—Decamped at 7 A. M. Encamped that night at the White Oak Run.
13.—Decamped at 8 o'clock in the morning. The army moved that day to Brink's Mills.
14.—Decamped at 10 A. M. Passed the Wind Gap and encamped that night within 12 miles of Easton.
15.—Decamped at 6 o'clock in the morning and arrived at Easton at 2 P. M. Encamped in the Forks of the Delaware on the bank of the Lehigh.
17.—Our Brigade mustered. The Rev. Parson Evans delivered a discourse to the army in the German church.
In the same volume is given a table of distances as traveled by the army from Easton to Genesee Castle, as surveyed by Mr. Lodge, Surveyor to the Western army:
I am somewhat at a loss to select a name for the subject of this paper. I dare not dignify it by the title of a history of the Mohawks, because a true history of that notable people never has been or never can be written. It is true that "Colden's Five Nations," "Morgan's League of the Iroquois," and Schoolcraft's notes are looked upon as authority on this subject, but Morgan's work is in a great measure legendary and altogether unsatisfying, and the same may be said of Colden and Schoolcraft, although the little that Colden has to say about the Mohawks is accepted as authority as far as it goes.
As to the origin of the Mohawks, it will always remain a mystery. Conjecture may or may not approach the truth, but from the fact that they had no written language, no records on stone or parchment from which we can obtain knowledge of their origin or early history, it is evident that our only sources of information are the vague traditions that have been transmitted orally from parent to child or from Sachem to Sachem.
How unreliable and unsatisfactory these oral traditions are, may be noted in what is called the "Iroquoian Cosmology," or the "Creation," as translated by J. N. B. Hewitt, of the Bureau of Ethnology. Mr. Hewitt gives three versions of the "Creation," the Onondaga, Mohawk and the Seneca. They are practically alike, differing only in minor statements. The Onondaga is the longest and the Seneca the shortest version. I will give you, however, a condensed rendering of the Mohawk tradition. It says:
"In the sky above were man-beings, both male and female, who dwelt in villages, and in one of the lodges was a man and woman, who were down-fended, that is, they were secluded, and their lodge was surrounded by the down of the cat-tail, which was a sign that no one should approach them, nor were they allowed to leave this precinct. The man became ill and stated that he would not get well until a dogwood tree standing in his dooryard had been uprooted. So when his people had uprooted the tree he said to his wife, 'Do thou spread for me something there beside the place where stood the tree.' Thereupon she spread something for him there and he then lay down on what she had spread for him, and he said to his wife: 'Here sit thou, beside my body.' Now at that time she did sit beside him as he lay there. Then he said to her: 'Do thou hang thy legs down into the abyss.' For where they had uprooted the tree there came to be a deep hole, which went through the sky, and the earth was upturned about it.
"And while he lay there he recovered from his illness and turning on his side he looked into the hole. After a while he said to his wife: 'Do thou look thither into the hole to see what things are occurring there in yonder place.' And as she bent her body to look into the hole he took her by the nape of the neck and pushed her and she fell into the hole and kept falling into the darkness thereof. After a while she passed through and as she looked about her, as she slowly fell, she saw that all about her was blue in color and soon discovered that what she observed was a vast expanse of water, on which floated all kinds of water fowls in great numbers.
"Thereupon. Loon, looking into the water and seeing her reflection, shouted, 'A man-being, a female is coming up from the depths of the waters.' The Bittern, answering, said, 'She is not indeed coming up out of the depths of the water, she is falling from above.' Thereupon they held a council to decide what they should do to provide for her welfare.
"They finally invited Great Turtle to come. Loon, thereupon, said to him, 'Thou should float thy body above the place where thou art in the depths of the water.' And then as Great Turtle arose to the surface, a large body of ducks of various kinds arose from the face of the water, elevated themselves in a very compact body, and went up to meet her. And on their backs did she alight, and they slowly descended, bearing her body on their backs, and on the back of Great Turtle they placed her.
"Then Loon said, 'Come, you deep divers, dive and bring up earth.' Many dived into the water, and Beaver was a long time gone. When his back appeared he was dead, and when they examined his paws, they found no earth. Then Otter said, 'It is my turn.' Whereupon he dived, and after a longer time he also came up dead. Neither did he bring up any earth. It was then that Muskrat said, 'I also will make the desperate attempt.' It was a still longer time that he was under water, but after a while he also floated to the surface, dead. In his paws was mud and his mouth was full of mud. And they took this mud and coated the edge of Great Turtle's shell all around, and other muskrats dived and floated dead, but brought up mud, which was placed on Great Turtle's back. And the female man-being sat on the back of Great Turtle and slept. And when she awoke the earth had increased in size, and she slept again, and when she awoke, willows were growing along the edge of the water. And then, also, when she again awoke, the carcass of a deer recently killed, lay there, and a fire was burning, and a sharp stone. And she dressed, cooked, and ate her fill. And after a while a rivulet appeared and rapidly the earth increased to great size, and grass and herbs sprung from the earth and grew to maturity.
"And after a while the female man-being gave birth to a girl child, who grew rapidly to maturity, and not long after gave birth to two male man-beings, but the daughter died in giving birth to the twins. And the grandmother cut off the head of her dead daughter and hung her body in a high place and it became the sun, and the head she placed in another place and it became the moon.
"And when she examined one of the infants she found his flesh was nothing but flint and there was a sharp comb of flint over the top of his head, but the flesh of the other was in every respect like a man-being.
"It seems that these two were antagonistic from their birth, the grandmother clinging to the flint child and driving the other into the wilderness; and in his wanderings he came to the shore of a lake and saw a lodge standing there. Looking in the doorway he saw a man sitting there, who said to him, 'Enter thou here. This man was Great Turtle, who gave him a bow and arrow, and also gave him two ears of corn, one in the milky state, which he told him to roast and eat as food, and the other, which was mature, he should use for seed corn.
"He also endowed him with preternatural powers. And when he was about to depart, he said to the young man, 'I am Great Turtle, I am thy parent.'
"Sapling, which was the name of the young man-being, created animals out of earth, and birds by casting handfuls of earth into the air. He also formed the body of a man and the body of a woman, and gave them life and placed them together. Returning shortly after he found them sleeping. Again and again he returned and still they slept. 'Thereupon he took a rib from each and substituted the one for the other and replaced each one in the other's body. It was not long before the woman awoke and sat up. At once she touched the breast of the man lying at her side, just where Sapling had placed her rib, and, of course, that tickled him. Thereupon he awoke. Awoke to life and understanding.'"
As in the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, the two brothers fought and in the end one was slain. But is was the unrighteous one, the one with the flint body, who lost his life.
Nearly three hundred years ago, the Jesuits recorded traditions of the Algonquins and Huron-Iroquois of Canada, which were practically the same in their main features as the above. (See Jesuit Rel. vol. 10, pages 127-129.)
The Montagnais and Adirondacks of Canada, and in fact all the Algonquin nations, seem to have some tradition of the deluge, which in some way is mixed with the Huron-Iroquois tradition of the creation. In fact, it deals with a re-creation of the earth.
They say that one Messou restored the world when it was lost in the waters. Their story of the deluge is practically as follows:
This Messou went a hunting with lynxes, instead of dogs, and was warned that it would be dangerous for his lynxes in a certain lake near the place where he was. One day as he was hunting an elk his lynxes gave it chase even into the lake; and when they reached the middle of it, they were submerged in an instant. When Messou arrived there and sought his lynxes, who were indeed his brothers, a bird told him that it had seen them in the bottom of the lake, and that certain animals or monsters held them there. He at once leaped into the water to rescue them, but immediately the lake overflowed, and increased so prodigiously that it inundated and drowned the whole earth. Astonished, he gave up all thought of his lynxes and turned his attention to creating the world anew. First he sent a raven to find a small piece of earth with which to build a new world. The raven returned unsuccessful. He made an Otter dive down, but he could not reach the bottom. At last a muskrat descended and brought back some earth. With this bit of earth Messou restored every thing to its former condition.
But it is among the Iroquois that Great Turtle plays the principal part in the creation. In fact it is said that he upholds the earth to this day. In one of the cases of the "Richmond collection" in the museum of the Montgomery County Historical Society, is an old rattle which can be traced back more than a hundred years. We have looked upon it as an interesting relic of the Senecas, a rude musical instrument. It is made from a turtle shell and skin, and in the enclosed space has been placed pebbles for rattles.
But this instrument is interesting beyond all that. Father LeJune, in his Relation of 1639, makes the following statement in describing a dance at a feast given for a sick woman: "At the head of the procession marched two masters of ceremonies, singing and holding the tortoise, on which they did not cease to play. This tortoise is not a real tortoise, but only the shell and skin, so arranged as to make a sort of drum or rattle. Having thrown certain pebbles into it they make from it an instrument like that the children in France used to play with. There is a mysterious something, I know not what, in this semblance of a tortoise, to Which these people attribute their origin. We shall know in time what there is to it."
It is said that in no Amerind (the word Amerind is a new word coined by the Bureau of Ethnology to take the place of the three words "North American Indian." You will notice that it is composed or formed from the first four letters of American and the first three letters of Indian) language, could the Jesuit Priests find a word to express the idea of God or His attributes. Although the most charitable of people and showing the utmost affection for their children, the Jesuits were unable, in the Amerind language, to impress upon them or to communicate to them, the idea of an all-loving and charitable Supreme Being. They had their Manitou, but they feared them and gave them the character of the devil, one who should be propitiated by presents, by penances, or by scourges and feasts.
In the Amerind's mind, each animal had a king, as the Great Turtle, the Great Bear, etc. The fathers said to them if the animals have each a Supreme Being, why should not man have a great chief of men, who lives in the sky; a Great Spirit. This idea they accepted, and although they did not or could not give him the attributes of the Christian's God, the Great Spirit became "a distinct existence, a pervading power in the universe, and a dispenser of justice."
This idea the Jesuits had to accept, although in exceptional cases, they seemed to impress their idea of God upon some of their converts while they had them at the missions, but they were sure to become apostates when they returned to their people in the wilderness. So you will see that "The Great Spirit" of the Indians is a modern idea received from the whites and not, as some think, a Supreme Being evolved ages ago from the Amerind mind.
Parkman says: "The primitive Indian believed in the immortality of the soul, and that skillful hunters, brave warriors, and men of influence went, after death, to the happy hunting-grounds, while the slothful, the cowardly, the weak were doomed to eat serpents and ashes in dreary and misty regions, but there was no belief that the good were to be rewarded for moral good, or the evil punished for a moral evil."
So you will see that the writing of a history of the Mohawks would be an arduous task, a history filled with mystery and superstition together with kindly deeds and warlike acts, a history of a people endowed with minds that were able to conceive a union of tribes, states or nations, call them what you may, and to perpetuate that union for centuries, the success of which suggested to our forefathers the union of states, the government under which we now live.
L. Of C."HOLLANDER."
After signing the treaty ceding Louisiana to the United States, Robert R. Livingston declared it the noblest work of his life. If one may not assent to this enthusiastic statement of the speaker, who had been a member of the committee to draft the immortal Declaration of Independence, it is easy to admit that his work stands next in historical importance to the treaty of 1783, which recognized American independence. It added half an empire to our domain, and, a century later, gave Edward Everett Hale opportunity to speak of Livingston as "the wisest American of his time," since "Franklin had died in 1780."
When Livingston signed the Louisiana treaty he was fifty-six years of age, tall and handsome, with an abundance of hair already turning gray, which fell in ringlets over a square, high forehead, lending a certain dignity that made him appear as great off the bench as he did when gowned and throned as Chancellor. In the estimation of his contemporaries he was one of the most gifted men of his time, and the judgment of a later age has not reversed their decision. He added learning to great natural ability, and brilliancy to profound thought, and although so deaf as to make communication with him difficult, he came very near concealing the defect by his remarkable eloquence and conversational gifts. Benjamin Franklin called him "the Cicero of America." His love for the beautiful attracted Edmund Burke. It is doubtful if he had a superior in the State in the knowledge of history and the classics, and in the study of science Samuel L. Mitchell alone stood above him. He lacked the creative genius of Hamilton, the prescient gifts of Jay, and the skill of Aaron Burr to marshal men for selfish purposes; but he was at home in debate with the ablest men of his time, a master of sarcasm, of trenchant wit, and of felicitous rhetoric. It is likely that he lacked Kent's application. But of ninety-three bills passed by the legislature from 1778 to 1801, a period that spans his life as Chancellor, and which were afterward vetoed by the Council of Revision, Livingston wrote opinions in twenty-three, several of them elaborate, and all revealing capacity for legislation. In these vetoes he stood with Hamilton in resisting forfeitures and confiscations; he held with Richard Morris that loyal citizens could not be deprived of lands, though bought of an alien enemy; he agreed with Jay in upholding common law rights and limiting the death penalty; and he had the support of George Clinton and John Sloss Hobart in disapproving a measure for the gradual abolition of slavery, because the legislature thought it politically expedient to deprive colored men of the right to vote who had before enjoyed such a privilege.
In the field of politics, Livingston's search for office did not result in a happy career. So long as he stood for a broader and stronger national life his intellectual rays flashed far beyond the horizon of most of his contemporaries, but the joy of public life was clouded when he entered the domain of partisan politics. His mortification that someone other than himself was appointed Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, made Hamilton's funding system, especially the proposed assumption of State debts, sufficient excuse for becoming an anti-federalist, and had he possessed those qualities of leadership that bind party and friends by ties of unflinching service, he might have reaped the reward that his ambition so ardently craved; but his peculiar temper unfitted him for such a career. Jealous, fretful, sensitive, and suspicious, he was as restless as his eloquence was dazzling, and when, at last, he became the anti-federalist candidate for governor in 1798, in opposition to John Jay, the campaign ended in deep humiliation. His candidacy was clearly a dash for the Presidency. He reasoned, as every ambitious New York statesman has reasoned from that day to this, that if he could carry the State in an off year, he would be needed, as the candidate of his whole party, in a Presidential year. This reasoning reduces the governorship to a sort of springboard from which to vault into the White House, and although only one man in a century has performed the feat, it has always figured as a popular and potent factor in the settlement of political nominations. George Clinton thought the Presidency would come to him, and Hamilton inspired Jay with a similar notion; but Livingston, sanguine of better treatment, was willing, for the sake of undertaking it, voluntarily to withdraw from the professional path along which he had moved to great distinction.
The personal qualities which seemed to unfit Livingston for political leadership in New York did not strengthen his usefulness in France. It was the breadth of view which distinguished him in the formation of the Union that brought him success as a diplomat. With the map of America spread out before him he handled the Louisiana problem as patriotically as he had argued for a stronger national life, and when, at last, he signed the treaty, he had forever enlarged the geography of his country.
As the American minister to the court of Napoleon, Livingston reached France in November, 1801. President Jefferson had already heard a rumor of the retrocession of Louisiana by Spain to France, and had given it little heed. He had cheerfully acquiesced in Spain's occupation of New Orleans, and after its retrocession to France he talked pleasantly of securing West Florida through French influence. "Such proof on the part of France of good will toward the United States," he wrote Livingston, in September, 1801, "would contribute to reconcile the latter to France's possession of New Orleans." But when, a year later, a French army, commanded by Leclerc, Napoleon's brother-in-law, had devastated St. Domingo and aroused the hostility of American merchants and ship-masters by his arbitrary treatment, Jefferson sensed the danger of having Napoleon for a next-door neighbor on the Mississippi. In a moment his tone changed from one of peace to a threat of war. "The cession of Louisianan to France," he declared, in a letter to Livingston, April 16, 1802, "works most sorely on the United States. There is on the globe one single spot, the possessor of which is our natural and habitual enemy. It is New Orleans. France, placing herself in that door, assumes to us the attitude of defiance. The day that France takes possession of New Orleans fixes the sentence which is to restrain her forever within her low-water mark. It seals the union of two nations, who in conjunction can maintain exclusive possession of the ocean. From that moment we must marry ourselves to the British fleet and nation."
In his anxiety the President also instructed Madison, his Secretary of State, to write Pinckney, the American minister at Madrid, to guarantee to Spain, if it had not already parted with its title, peaceable possession of Louisiana beyond the Mississippi, on condition of its ceding to the United States the territory, including New Orleans, on the east side. As the year wore on, however, and Leclerc's death followed his report of his losses, Jefferson became much easier, advising Livingston that French possession of Louisiana would not be "important enough to risk a breach of the peace." But before the ink had time to dry, almost simultaneously with the death of Leclerc, came the news, through Governor Claiborne of the Territory of Mississippi, that the Spanish Intendent had forbidden Americans the right to deposit their merchandise at New Orleans. This was a stunning blow to the President. The treaty of 1795 stipulated that the King of Spain would "permit the citizens of the United States, for the space of three years from this time, to deposit their merchandise and effects in the Port of New Orleans, and to export them from thence, without paying any other duty than a fair price for the hire of the stores, and his majesty promises either to continue this permission if he find during that time it is not prejudicial to the interests of Spain, or, if he should not agree to continue it thus, he will assign to them on another part of the banks of the Mississippi an equivalent establishment." That the three years' limitation had expired during President Adams' administration without the right being extended or its equivalent established, did not help Jefferson out of his difficulty, since the Kentucky and Tennessee settlers were already cleaning their flintlocks on the theory that it was easier to drive out a few Spaniards than to dislodge a French army after it had fortified. This was good reasoning if Louisiana was to be taken by force. But Jefferson, even when writing threatening letters, had no thought of war. "Peace is our passion," he wrote Sir John Sinclair, and in the presence of threatening hostilities he did nothing to prepare for war. His message to Congress, which opened a few days after the reception of Claiborne's dispatch, made no mention of the New Orleans trouble. He talked about everything else, but of what everybody else was talking about the President said nothing. The western settlers, vitally interested in a depot of deposit at New Orleans, resented such apparent apathy, and by resolutions and legislative action encouraged the federalists to talk so loudly for war that the President, alarmed at the condition of the public mind, sent James Monroe's name to the Senate as minister extraordinary to France and Spain. On January 13, 1803, the day of Monroe's confirmation, Jefferson hastened to write him, explaining what he had done and why he had acted. "The agitation of the public mind on occasion of the late suspension of our right of deposit at New Orleans," said he, "is extreme. In the western country it is natural and grounded on honest motives; in the seaports it proceeds from a desire for war, which increases the mercantile lottery; among federalists generally, and especially those of Congress, the object is to force us into war if possible, in order to derange our finances; or, if this cannot be done, to attach the western country to them as to their best friends, and thus get again into power. Remonstrances, memorials, etc., are now circulating through the whole of the western country, and signed by the body of the people. The measures we have been pursuing, being invisible, do not satisfy their minds. Something sensible, therefore, is necessary."
This "sensible something" was Monroe's appointment, which "has already silenced the federalists," continued the President. "Congress will no longer be agitated by them; and the country will become calm as fast as the information extends over it."
The better to support Monroe, Madison explained to Pichon, the French minister in Washington, the necessity for the undivided possession of New Orleans, claiming that it had no sort of interest for France, while the United States had no interest in extending its population to the right bank, since such emigration would tend to weaken the state and to slacken the concentration of its forces. "In spite of affinities in manners and languages," said the Secretary of State, "no colony beyond the river could exist under the same government, but would infallibly give birth to a separate state, having in its bosom germs of collision with the east, the easier to develop in proportion to the very affinities between the two empires."
This explained the true attitude of Jefferson and Madison. They did not seek territory west of the Mississippi. Their thought centered in the purchase of New Orleans; it was the "one spot on the globe, the possessor of which is our natural and habitual enemy;" France's possession of it "must marry us to the British fleet and nation;" upon it "every eye in the United States is now fixed;" to gain it Pinckney was charged "to guarantee to Spain the peaceable possession of the territory beyond the Mississippi;" in Madison's opinion "the boundary line between the United States and Louisiana should be the Mississippi;" according to his theory "no colony beyond the Mississippi could exist under the same government with that on the east side;" nor did the United States have any interest in building up a colony beyond the Mississippi. In other words, Jefferson saw only New Orleans; he wanted only New Orleans and peace; and to get the one and keep the other, Monroe was sent to Paris to secure "our rights and interests in the river Mississippi and in the territories eastward thereof."
In the meantime Livingston had taken a different view. It is not clear that he appreciated the future value of the great northwest more than did Jefferson or Madison, but in his argument for the purchase of New Orleans he had included in his request nine-tenths of the territory now known as the Louisiana Purchase. Singularly enough Livingston's letter happened to be addressed to Talleyrand, Napoleon's Minister of Foreign Affairs, on the very day Monroe's name went to the United States Senate for confirmation, and although the latter's instructions limited negotiations to the east bank of the Mississippi, Livingston's argument included the west bank. "Presuming," he writes Talleyrand, "that the Floridas are in the hands of France, I shall predicate what I have to offer upon that presumption. France can have but three objects in the possession of Louisiana and Florida: The first is the command of the Gulf; second, the supply of her islands; third, an outlet for the people, if her European population should be too great for her territory."
"Having treated this subject more at large in a paper which you have had the goodness to read," Livingston continued, "I will not dwell upon it here; but propose what it appears to be the true, policy of France to adopt, as affecting all her objects, and at the same time conciliating the affections of the United States, giving a permanency to her establishments, which she can in no other way hope for. First, let France cede to the United States so much of Louisiana as lays above the mouth of the river Arkansas. By this a barrier will be placed between the colony of France and Canada, from which she may, otherwise, be attacked with the greatest facility, and driven out before she can derive any aid from Europe. Let her possess Florida as far as the river Perdito, with all the ports on the gulf, and cede West Florida, New Orleans, and the territory on the west bank of the Mississippi to the United States. This cession will only be valuable to the latter from its giving them the mouths of the river Mobile and other small rivers which penetrate their territory, and in calming their apprehensions relative to the Mississippi. It may be supposed that New Orleans is a place of some moment; it will be so to the United States, but not to France. The right of depot which the United States claims and will never relinquish, must be the source of continued disputes and animosities between the two nations, and ultimately lead the United States to aid any foreign power in the expulsion of France from that colony. Independent of this, as the present commercial capital of New Orleans is mostly American, it will be instantly removed to Natchez, to which the United States can give such advantages as to render New Orleans of little importance. Upon any other plan. Sir, it needs but little foresight to predict that the whole of this establishment must pass into the hands of Great Britain, which has, at the same time, the command of the sea, and a martial colony containing every means of attack. While the fleets block up the seaports, she can, without the smallest difficulty, attack New Orleans from Canada with 15,000 or 20,000 men and a host of savages. France, by grasping at a desert and an insignificant town, and thereby throwing the weight of the United States into the scale of Britain, will render her mistress of the new world. By the possession of Louisiana and Trinidad the colonies of Spain will lie at her mercy. By expelling France from Florida and possessing the ports on the Gulf, she will command the Islands. The East and West Indies will pour their commodities into her ports; and the precious metals of Mexico, combined with the treasures of Hindostan, enable her to purchase nations whose aid she may require in confirming her power. Though it would comport with the true policy and magnanimity of France gratuitously to offer these terms to the United States, yet they are not unwilling to purchase them at a price suited to their value and to their own circumstances, in the hope that France will at the same time satisfy their distressed citizens the debts which they have a right by so many titles to demand."
These arguments do not read like the letters of Jefferson or the instructions of Madison. There is no suggestion that the United States is without interest in the right bank of the Mississippi for fear of a divided government, or because germs of collision will develop in spite of affinities in manners and language. New Orleans is minimized, the great west is magnified. A glance at the map shows that he offered to purchase half an empire, leaving to France only a small corner in the southwest bordering on Texas. His argument fixed its limitation. "First, let France cede to the United States so much of Louisiana as lay above the mouth of the river Arkansas, West Florida, New Orleans, and the territory on the west bank of the Mississippi." Talleyrand thought the rest would be of little value. "I will give you a certificate," he said, in the course of the discussion, "that you are the most importunate negotiator I have yet met with." For this and his aid to Robert Fulton, Edward Everett Hale called Livingston "the wisest American of his time."
Napoleon received Livingston's argument three days after he heard of Leclerc's death. To a soldier who had entered Italy over the Alps, the suggestion of an attack from Canada would strongly appeal; with Nelson on the ocean, he could understand the helplessness of a French army in New Orleans; and after the failure of Leclerc in St. Domingo, the presence of yellow fever and other obstacles to success in Louisiana would not seem improbable. Such a discussion at such a time, therefore, was certain to have the most profound influence, and from January 10 to April 10, 1803, Livingston kept his reasons constantly before the First Consul and his ministers as the only policy to conserve the true interest of France, to impair the strength of England, and to win the affection of the United States.
"I have never yet had any specific instructions from you how to act or what to offer," he wrote Madison on February 18, 1803, eighteen days before Monroe left the United States; "but I have put into Napoleon's hands some notes containing plain truths mixed with that species of personal attention which I know to be most pleasing. The only basis on which I think it possible to do anything here is to connect our claims with offers to purchase the Floridas. Upon this subject my notes turn. I have first endeavored to show how little advantage France is likely to make from these colonies; the temptation they offer to Britain to attack them by sea and from Canada; the effect a conquest of them by Britain would have on the islands; and the monopoly which that conquest would give to a rival power to the trade of the West as well as of the East Indies. I have dwelt upon the importance of a friendly intercourse between them and us, both as it respects their commerce and the security of their islands; and I have proposed to them the relinquishment of New Orleans and West Florida as far as the River Perdito, together with all the territory lying to the north of the Arkansas, under an idea that it was necessary to interpose us between them and Canada, as the only means of preventing an attack from that quarter. For this I proposed an indefinite sum, not wishing to mention any till I should receive your instructions. These propositions with certain accompaniments were well received, and were some days under the First Consul's consideration. I am now lying on my oars in hopes of something explicit from you. I consider the object of immense importance; and this perhaps the favorable moment to press it."
While Livingston's letter was being read in Washington, conveying to Jefferson the first suggestion of a purchase other than that of New Orleans, the First Consul was making up his mind to accede to Livingston's request. When the decision did come, it came with Napoleonic suddenness. For three months he had considered it; but not until Sunday, April 10, did he make known his intention; then, in a moment, without warning, he let his desire be known to Talleyrand and Marbois. "I can scarcely say that I cede it," said Napoleon, "for it is not yet in our possession. If, however, I leave the least time to our enemies, I shall only transmit an empty title." Marbois agreed, Talleyrand dissented, and the trio parted; but at daybreak, on Monday, Napoleon sent for Marbois, declaring that "irresolution and deliberation are no longer in season; I renounce Louisiana. It is not only New Orleans that I cede; it is the whole colony, without reserve. I know the price of what I abandon. I renounce it with the greatest regret; to attempt obstinately to retain it would be folly. I direct you to regulate the affairs. Have an interview this very day with Mr. Livingston."
Whatever occurred after this belongs simply to the making of a bargain. The mind of Napoleon had acted. It is not easy, perhaps, to differentiate the influences that led to such action, but it is not difficult to measure them. In writing the Minister of Marine, Talleyrand explained that "the empire of circumstances, foresight of the future, and the intention to compensate by an advantageous arrangement for the inevitable loss of a country which was going to be put at the mercy of another nation—all these motives have determined the Government to pass to the United States the right it had acquired from Spain over the sovereignty and property of Louisiana." In brief, Napoleon's sale of Louisiana, as explained by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, disposed of a country which he would inevitably lose whenever war occurred with England. This was the argument Livingston had been urging for three months, with evident effect. Had he been less earnest or dramatic, Napoleon's purpose might not then have exploded into an order to sell. The American Minister knew he was dealing with a man guided by such an implacable hatred of England, that when he was not fighting her openly, he was plotting against her secretly; that his one purpose, his one hope, his great ambition, was her conquest. In his argument, therefore, Livingston dangled before him a picture to feed his hatred—a picture of Trinidad and Louisiana forming a base from which England might drive Spain from Florida, command the islands of the Gulf, and receive into its ports the riches of the West Indies and the treasures of Mexico. Thus, Livingston's presence becomes a great factor in the sale. It took six months to communicate with the United States, but only six days to do business with the man who was pressing the sale upon him. If more time had elapsed, the sudden decision might have been changed with equal suddenness, for Napoleon, aside from his inconstancy, had cause to shrink from his intended action. It meant the violation of a sacred pledge to Spain, the death of Talleyrand's pet colonial policy, the certain disgust, sooner or later, of the French people, and a hot quarrel with Lucien and Joseph Bonaparte, his brothers.
In the negotiations that followed Livingston ventured to offer twenty million francs, and Marbois finally suggested sixty millions, with payment of the American claim to the amount of twenty millions more. Thus ended the historic midnight conference during which the bargain was practically made. "It is so very important," wrote Livingston, "that you should be apprised that a negotiation is actually opened, even before Mr. Monroe is presented, in order to calm the tumult which the news of war will renew, that I have lost no time in communicating it. We shall do all we can to cheapen the purchase, but my present sentiment is that we shall buy."
Considering the extent of the purchase and the danger of delay, Livingston would have been justified in closing the bargain then and there. Had he known the action of Lucien Bonaparte, who had secured the cession from Spain, and of Joseph's insincerity, upon whom he even depended to help along the negotiation, he might well have taken counsel of his fears; but the great real estate dealer enjoyed driving a good bargain, and so he argued and held aloof, professing that the United States "had no disposition to extend across the river;" that they "would be perfectly satisfied with New Orleans and the Floridas;" that they "could not give any great sum for the purchase;" that "it was vain to ask anything so greatly beyond our means;" that "true policy would dictate to the First Consul not to press such a demand," since "he must know the payment of such a sum would render the present government unpopular." He minimized the importance of the deal, describing West Florida as "barren sands and sunken marshes," and New Orleans as "a small town built of wood, of about seven thousand souls," a territory "only valuable to the United States because it contained the mouths of some of their rivers," going so far as to venture a prophecy that "an emigrant would not cross the Mississippi in a hundred years;" yet, throughout weeks of dickering, he never surrendered his purpose to buy whether the price be cheapened or not.
His anxiety was greatly increased by the disclosure of Monroe's commission, since it contained power only to treat for lands on the east side of the Mississippi. "It may, if things should take a turn favorable to France," he wrote Madison, April 17, "defeat all we may do, even at the moment of signing. . . . You will recollect that I have been long preparing this government to yield us the country above the Arkansas, . . . and I am therefore surprised that our commission should have entirely lost sight of the object."
Livingston's fears proved groundless, and the dickering went on until April 29, when Marbois' original figures were accepted sixty million francs to France, and twenty million francs to American claimants; in all, fifteen million dollars. Three days later, on May 2, 1803, the treaty was signed.
It is not surprising that Livingston felt proud and happy. Other treaties of consequence had been negotiated by Americans—the treaty of alliance with France, the treaty of peace with England, and Jay's treaty of 1795; but none was more important than Livingston's. Besides, it was unparalleled in the field of diplomacy, since Louisiana cost, comparatively, almost nothing.
Perhaps Livingston's pride was only equaled by Jefferson's surprise. A mother is usually prepared for the coming of the baby that is to enlarge and illuminate her home. Its clothes are ready, the nursery is furnished, and everything is waiting its advent; but President Jefferson was unprepared for the Louisiana Purchase. It was so entirely unsought on his part that he had given the subject no consideration until half an empire came tumbling upon him like a great meteor out of the midnight sky. At first, he thought he would cede a part of it to the Indians in exchange for their holdings on the east side of the Mississippi, and "shut up all the rest from settlement for a long time to come." "I have indulged myself in these details," he writes James Dickinson, August 9, 1803, "because the subject being new it is advantageous to interchange ideas on it and to get our notions all corrected before we are obliged to act upon them." Then he raised the question of a constitutional amendment. "I suppose Congress must appeal to the nation for an additional article to the constitution approving and confirming an act which the nation had not previously authorized," he wrote Senator Breckenridge of Kentucky. "The constitution has made no provision for our holding foreign territory, still less for incorporating foreign nations into our Union. The Executive in seizing the fugitive occurrence which so much advances the good of their country have done an act beyond the constitution."
When such views reached France, Livingston hurried off several letters to Jefferson, assuring him "that were the business to do over again it would never be done. They think we have obtained an immense advantage over them. Though the appearance of war had some influence, it had much less than is ascribed to it. I know from a faithful source that the Spanish government has made the most serious remonstrances against the cession of Louisiana, and that it is now well understood that, if any additional clause of ratification should be introduced by the United States, this government would profit of the circumstance to annul the whole work."
Jefferson did not need a further hint. "I wrote you on the 12th inst. on the subject of Louisiana and the constitutional provision which might be necessary for it," he says to Senator Breckenridge. "A letter just received yesterday shows that nothing must be said on that subject which may give a pretext for retreating, but that we should dosub silentiowhat shall be found necessary. Be so good, therefore, as to consider that part of my letter confidential. It strengthens the reason for desiring the presence of every friend of the treaty on the first day of the session. Perhaps you can impress this necessity on the Senators from the western States by private letter."
President Jefferson was a strict constructionist. He did not believe the constitution gave Congress power to acquire additional territory; he dreaded the concentration of power in the executive, and perhaps his teachings did more than all other men to inspire the popular mind with that dread; but when he discovered that the time required to secure a constitutional amendment, exciting, as it would, a long debate in Congress, might defeat the Louisiana Purchase by arousing French feeling against its sale, he did not hesitate to bury his constitutional convictions, and to force through Congress the necessary ratification. Nor did he ever attempt any defense of his inconsistency save that the welfare of the nation demanded such action. Thomas Jefferson was not afraid of being inconsistent. To a great soul this is not weakness. There are ages that are creative. At such times two classes of men are prominent and needed—one shackled to traditions, the other guided by visions. Thomas Jefferson belonged to the latter. In 1776 the American people not only broke the bonds binding them to old England, but forged other bonds which would bind them to a new political, social and industrial order, and of those who hammered these new ties into harmony with the longing and aspirations of men, Thomas Jefferson stands among the foremost Fathers. He got his light from within. He believed in the people, in the government which they had accepted, and with Gladstonian enthusiasm he sought to lead the one and mould the other along lines of stability; but when theory and idealism ran counter to practice and experience, he did not hesitate to adopt the practical and let theory wait. This is the secret of his action in 1803. To cling to an abstract principle would lose an appreciable blessing to his country, and so he let go the abstract principle. This is the inconsistency of a great statesman, the contradictoriness of genius.
But commendable as was the part of Thomas Jefferson in that great transaction, it must not conceal the truth of history. He was not even the promoter, much less the author of the Purchase. His mind was intent upon a present need, a single spot, instant relief, made necessary by the fierce demand of a frontier people claiming a depot of deposit. It was Robert R. Livingston who had the vision.
The distinguished Chancellor, however, did not prove as careful and painstaking a lawyer as he was bold and successful as a diplomatist, for in drawing the claims convention, he neglected to include all claims, estimated their total much too low, omitted a rule of apportionment, and, most grievous of all, left the final decision as to what claims should be selected for payment to the French government. This was the rock that wrecked him. The legitimate claims of American citizens amounted to many millions, but Livingston fixed the limit at three and three-quarters millions, and compelled claimants to secure settlement through the corrupt Talleyrand and his rascally agents, who took one-half for their services. Livingston thought he had drafted the convention "with particular attention," and Monroe, who thought differently, tried his hand with no better success; then Marbois turned it to the advantage of the Frenchmen. The Americans needed a careful lawyer.
The scandal growing out of this convention deepened and cankered until Livingston quarreled with the American Claims Commissioners, excited remonstrances from the British government, and nagged the United States consul at Paris into charging him not only with blind and insatiable vanity, with hints of corrupt and criminal motives, but with "imbecility of mind."
"I considered the claims convention as a trifle compared with the other great object," he explained to Madison, "and as it had already delayed us many days, I was ready to take it under any form." He was clearly right in the comparative importance of the treaty and the convention, but after Marbois had reserved to the French government the right of final decision in each case, Livingston was inexcusable in omitting a rule of apportionment, since it excluded all claimants except the favored few whom the corrupt Frenchman selected because of their willingness to divide.
But the poisoned arrow that entered deepest into Livingston's soul was the robbery of his laurels. His successful negotiation of the treaty, putting him into the class from which Presidents were then drawn, won him the dislike of Jefferson, the distrust of Madison, and the jealousy of Monroe, who, considering him a rival, carefully concealed whatever would reflect credit upon him. His dispatches to Madison became a sealed book in the Department of State; his letters to Jefferson were not suffered to shadow the President's halo; his work, practically completed before Monroe's arrival in Paris, did not reach the eye or the ear of the American people. The great achievement filled the air, rejoicing the country as no other event since the treaty of peace with England, but little praise came to Livingston. The public gave Monroe credit for the treaty, and Livingston discredit for the claims convention. When, finally, Monroe admitted that his part in the negotiation amounted to nothing, he also encouraged the belief that Livingston did as little. It is impossible to say, of course, just what influenced Napoleon to give Marbois the order of April 11. It was not war, for war did not come until a year later; it was not money, for the Prince of Peace would have given more; it was not anger at Spain, for no real cause then existed; it was not fear of England, for Bonaparte did not fear an enemy he expected to crush; it was not St. Domingo, for Leclerc's failure already belonged to the past, with Corsica and Egypt. Perhaps Napoleon himself could not have given the real reason. But, however this may be, the fact is deeply embedded in history that Livingston was the first American to suggest the acquisition of that then vast and dimly outlined country which has been known for over a hundred years as the Louisiana Purchase—stretching west and northwest of the Mississippi, above the winding Arkansas, beyond the waters of the Missouri, across plains and flower-covered prairies to the far-away Rockies, where the Yellowstone leaps from its hiding, and snow-clad summits pierce a summer's sky.