Chapter IX: Part I: The Ideal (3)
When a march is contemplated, orders are issued from the general headquarters prescribing all the details--the time at which each corps is to start, the roads to be taken, the precautions to be observed, and the points to be gained. Usually an early hour in the morning is fixed for the commencement of the march. If not in the immediate presence of the enemy, and a surprise is not intended, the _reveille_ is beaten about three o'clock, and the sleepy soldiers arouse from their beds on the ground, pack up their tents, blankets, and equipments, get a hasty breakfast, and fall into their ranks. If some commander--perhaps of a regiment only--has been dilatory, the whole movement is delayed. Many well-formed plans have been defeated by the indolence of a subordinate commander and his failure to put his troops in motion at the designated hour. Such a delay may embarrass the whole army by detaining other portions, whose movements are to be governed by those of the belated fragment. At four o'clock, if orders have been obeyed, the long columns are moving. Perhaps four or five hours are occupied in filing out into the road. While the sun is rising and the birds engaged at their matins, the troops are trudging along at that pace of three miles an hour, which seems so tardy, but which, persisted in day after day, traverses so great a distance. Every hour there is ten or fifteen minutes' halt, enabling the rear to close up, and the men to relieve themselves temporarily of their guns and knapsacks. Soon the heat commences to grow oppressive, the dust rises in suffocating clouds, knapsacks weigh like lead, and the artillery horses pant as they drag the heavy guns. But the steady tramp must be continued till about eleven o'clock, when a general halt under the shelter of some cool woods, by the side of a stream, is ordered. Two or three hours of welcome rest are here employed in dinner and finishing the broken morning's nap. After the intenser heat of the day is past, the tramp recommences, and continues till six or seven o'clock, when the place appointed for encamping is reached. Soon white tents cover every hill and plain and valley, the weary animals are unharnessed, trees and fence rails disappear rapidly to feed the consuming camp fires, there is a universal buzz formed from the laugh, the song, the shout, and the talking of twenty thousand voices: it gradually subsides, the fires grow dim, and silence and darkness fall upon the scene.
Such marching, with its twenty, twenty-five, or thirty miles a day, is light compared with the harassing fatigues of a retreat, before the pursuit of a triumphant enemy. To accomplish this movement, so as to save the organization and the material of an army, without too great a loss of life, tests in the highest degree the skill of a commander and the fortitude of the men. In a retreat, the usual order of marching is reversed--the trains are sent in the advance, and the troops must remain behind for their protection. Often it happens that they are obliged to remain in line all day, to check by fighting the advance of the enemy, and then continue their march by night. The dead and wounded must, to a great extent, be left on the field; supplies are perhaps exhausted, with no opportunity for replenishment; the merciless cannon of the enemy are constantly thundering in the rear, his cavalry constantly making inroads upon the flanks. Weary, hungry, exhausted, perhaps wounded, the soldier must struggle along for days and nights, if he would avoid massacre or consignment to the cruelties of a prison. The rout of a great army--the disorganization and confusion of a retreat, even when well conducted--the toil and suffering and often slaughter--are the saddest scenes earth can present. Who can paint the terrors of that winter retreat of the French from Moscow? Fortunately, in our war we have had nothing to equal in horrors the retreats of European armies, but no one who passed through those trying seven days fighting and marching which closed the Peninsula campaign, can ever fail to shudder at the sufferings imposed on humanity by a retreat.
VIOLATIONS OF LITERARY PROPERTY.
THE FEDERALIST.--LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JOHN JAY.
Among the rights which are ill protected by law, and yet of essential importance to the individual and society, are those of literary property. If any bequest should be sacred, it is that of thought, convictions, art--the intellectual personality that survives human life--and the 'local habitation and the name' whereby genius, opinion, sentiment--what constitutes the best image and memorial of a life and a mind, a character and a career, is preserved and transmitted. And yet, with all our boasted civilization and progress, no rights are more frequently or grossly violated, no wrongs so little capable of redress, as those relating to literary property. Herein there is a singular moral obtuseness a want of chivalry, an inadequate sense of obligation--doubtless in part originating in that unjust legislation, or rather want of legislation, whereby international law protects the products of the mind and recognizes national literature as a great social interest. Within a few months, the biography of our pioneer author,[13] whose memory his life and character, not less than his genius, had singularly endeared to the whole range of English readers--was prepared by a relative designated by himself, who, with remarkable tact and fidelity, completed his delicate task, according to the materials provided and the wishes expressed by his illustrious kinsman. A London publisher reprinted the work, with eighty pages interpolated, wherein, with an utter disregard to common delicacy toward the dead or self-respect in the living, unauthentic gossip is made to desecrate the reticent and consistent tone of the work, pervert its spirit, and detract from its harmonious attraction and truth. A greater or more indecent and unjustifiable liberty was never taken by a publisher with a foreign work; it was an insult to the memory of Washington Irving, to his biographer and those who cherish his fame.
Not many weeks ago, an eloquent young divine, who had in no small degree saved the State of California to the Union, by his earnest and constant plea for national integrity, died in the midst of his useful and noble career: forthwith the publisher of a Review, in whose pages some of his early essays had appeared, announced their republication: in vain the friends and family of Starr King protested against so crude and limited a memorial of his genius, and entreated that they might be allowed to glean and garner more mature and complete fruits of his pen, as a token of his ability and his career; and thus do justice, by careful selection and well-advised preparation, to the memory they and their fellow citizens so tenderly and proudly cherished: no; the articles had been paid for, the recent death of the writer gave them a market value, and the publishers were resolved to turn them to account, however good taste and right feeling and sacred associations were violated.
Again, one of the few legal works of American origin which has a standard European reputation is Wheaton's 'International Law.' Its author was eminently national in his convictions; foreign service and patriotic instincts had made him thoroughly American in his sympathies and sentiments; no one of our diplomatic agents sent home such comprehensive and sagacious despatches, having in view 'the honor and welfare of the whole country;' and no one who knew Henry Wheaton doubts that, were he living at this hour, all his influence, hopes, and faith would be identified with the Union cause.
Yet an edition[14] of his great work has lately appeared, edited in an opposite interest; and the standard reference on the law of nations, so honorable to the legal knowledge, perspicacity, and candor of an American author, goes forth perverted and deformed by annotations and comments indirectly sympathetic with the wicked rebellion now devastating the nation. Can a greater literary outrage be imagined? Is it possible more grossly to violate the rights of the dead?
Aware that certain rules apply to the annotation of legal treatises not recognized in other departments of literature, and diffident of personal judgment in this respect, in order to ascertain how far our sense of this violation of literary property and reputation was well founded, how far we were right in asserting a partisan aim, we requested an accomplished lawyer, thoroughly versed in the literature of his profession, and experienced as an editor, to examine this edition of Wheaton, and state his own opinion thereof: to him we are indebted for the following clear and palpable instances of a perverted use of a standard American treatise, endeared to many living friends of the author, and all his intelligent and patriotic countrymen: of the 'additions' to the original by the editor, he says:
'1. They indicate considerable reading and industry, but are far
too voluminous, and abound in extended extracts from speeches,
state papers, and statutes, which should have been omitted
altogether, or very much abridged.
'2. They contain no language complimentary to the Administration,
little or nothing in defence of the Government--none that can be
offensive to Jefferson Davis; and, as a whole, they give the
impression that he regards the Confederate position as being quite
as defensible, on the principles of international law, as that of
the United States.
'3. He has no word of censure for Lord John Russell, and no word
of apology for Mr. Seward. He nowhere calls the Confederates
_rebels_, and nowhere thinks the conduct of France suspicious or
unfriendly.
'4. His positions are unquestionably the same with those of
Seymour, Bishop Hopkins, Professor Morse, Judge Woodward, etc.
'5. He is everywhere cold--more willing to wound than bold to
strike; and yet he fretfully commits himself before he gets
through, in defence of slavery and extreme democratic positions.
'6. He does not pretend that he was ever requested by the great
author with whose productions he has taken such liberties to
undertake the editorial duties.
'His language is so general that one needs to read it carefully to
feel the full force of what I have said.
'In the preface (page 1-20), he speaks of 'Spanish American
independence, now jeopardized by our _fratricidal_
contest'--fratricidal is indeed a favorite word; he uses it in an
offensive sense as regards the United States. Page 99, note, he
says of slavery, what is utterly untrue, that 'the Constitution
recognized it as property, and pledges the Federal Government to
protect it.' The noble act of June 19, 1862, forbidding slavery in
United States Territories, he comments on in this wise: 'This act
wholly ignores the decision of the Supreme Court (meaning the Dred
Scott case) on the subject of slavery.' He then inserts the whole
act in the note, only to hold it up to censure--'testing it by
international law' as interpreted by him. At page 605 he denounces
that law as 'obnoxious not only to the principles of international
law, but to the Constitution of the United States.' His note and
extracts, including long extracts from speeches of Thomas, of
Massachusetts, and Crittenden, of Kentucky, fill more than
twenty-two pages--reserving a line or two of text at the top. To
say nothing of the sentiments, such notes are a shameful abuse of
the reputation and work of Mr. Wheaton, and a perversion of the
duties and rights of an editor. But a word of the sentiments. He
exhausts himself and the records of the past in accumulating
precedents to condemn the policy of freeing slaves as a war
measure, or of arming them in the nation's defence.
'At page 614, in this same note, speaking of the effect of the
Proclamation of Emancipation, he says: 'The attention of publicists
may well be called to the withdrawal of the four millions of men
from the cultivation of cotton, which, is the source of wealth of
the great commercial and manufacturing nations of Europe.' That is,
he suggests this as a ground for interference in our affairs on the
principles of _his_ international law. He further adds that this
cultivation of cotton is 'by nature a virtual monopoly of the
seceded States;' that is, nature preordained the negroes to be
slaves in the seceded States to raise cotton; and hence natural and
international law require emancipation proclamations to be put
down. Did Stephens ever go farther? Again, on the same page, he
says: 'The effect on the United States, _in the event of the
reestablishment of the Federal authority,_' without the
Proclamation in force, etc., 'would be _seriously felt_, in its
financial bearings,' etc.--'abroad as well as at home.' Not
satisfied, therefore, with suggesting a justification of
intervention, on the basis of international law, he appeals to the
cupidity of foreigners as well as natives, by hinting also that
financial ruin may follow the triumph of Freedom and the Federal
armies. What a shame that an American editor should use the great
name of Wheaton to give dignity to such suggestions in foreign
countries.' He then gives--all in the same interminable note (page
614)--an extract from _The Morning Chronicle_, of May 16, 1860, of
which I give you this delicious morsel: 'No blacks, no cotton, such
is the finality.' At page 609, he speaks of the 'incompatibility of
confiscation of property with the present state of civilization.'
At page 609, he quotes, with evident delight, the sanctimonious
despatch of Lord John Russell about sinking ships in Charleston
harbor, which his lordship calls a 'project only worthy the times
of barbarism;' and the American annotator, who could use page after
page to degrade his own Government for emancipating slaves, of
course could not be expected to refer to any of the precedents that
would have silenced Lord John, and have justified the United
States; and he therefore passes on with no reference to them.
'At page 669, Mr. Wheaton says: 'The validity of maritime captures
must be determined in a court of the captor's Government,' etc.
This American editor does not so much as allude to the fact, that
while he is writing, the highways of the ocean are lighted by the
fires of American merchantmen, plundered, and then burned, without
condemnation of any court, by vessels fitted out in English ports,
in open violation of the first principles of international law, and
which have never been in any port under the jurisdiction of the
piratical Confederacy!
'Some of his indications of sympathy with the rebellion are quite
in excess of those of Lord John, with whose views, on the whole, he
seems well enough pleased. For example, at page 254, Lord John is
quoted as follows: 'Has a commission from the _so-called_ President
Davis,' etc.; but at page 107 and generally, the American editor,
not willing to imply that there is any doubt about the reality or
permanency of the Confederate concern, nor being willing to offend
its managers, speaks of 'the President of the Confederate States,'
and 'an act of Congress of the Confederate States,' etc.; and when
he reaches page 535, as if to set Lord John a better example (and I
believe there had been some Confederate victories about the time he
was writing that note), he says: 'A proclamation was issued by
_President Davis_, on the 14th of August, 1861, ordering all
citizens adhering to the Government of the United States, etc., to
depart from the _Confederate States_ in forty days.' It is very
evident the author approves this order as warranted by
international law, at least according to his interpretation
thereof.
'Need I go farther to satisfy you of the temper and character of
the notes, and the views of their author? I can hardly suppress the
expression of my indignation that such a use should have been made
of this great national work--that such an opportunity should have
been lost to say something worthily in favor of colonization and
freedom, and in vindication of our nation, in its great struggle
with the relics of barbarism in its midst, and with the selfish and
ambitious spirits of the European continent, so ready to take
advantage of our troubles to promote their own schemes.'
We now come to another and more generally obnoxious instance of this use of standard national works for personal or political objects. The 'Federalist,' from the circumstances under which it was written, the influence it exerted, the events with which it is associated, the character of the writers, and the ability manifest both in their arguments and the style--has long been regarded as a political classic. It was the text book of a large and intelligent party at the time of and long subsequent to the adoption of the Constitution; and few works of political philosophy, written to meet an exigency and prepare the way for a governmental change, have attained so high and permanent a rank among foreign critics and historians. It is evident that such a work, whoever owns the copyright or boasts the authorship, has a national value and interest. To preserve it intact, to keep it in an eligible and accessible form before the public, is all that any editor or publisher has a right to claim. Much has been written as to the authorship of the respective papers, and some passages have been variously rendered in different editions; but the general scope and merit of the work, and the obvious and unchallenged identity of style and opinion with the acknowledged authors as regards most of the articles, make the discussions on these points of comparative little significance to the reader of the present day, who regards the work as a whole, seizes its essential traits, and is _en rapport_ with its magnanimous tone, so wholly opposed to petty division of credit in a labor undertaken from patriotic motives, and by scholars and gentlemen. Enough that we have here the reasonings of enlightened citizens, the views of statesmen, the arguments whereby the claims of the Constitution were vindicated. Whoever is familiar with the history of the period, finds in this remarkable work a memorable illustration of that rectitude and wisdom which presided over the early counsels of the nation, and an evidence of the rare union of sagacity and comprehensiveness, of liberal aspiration and prudential foresight, of conscientiousness and intelligence, which has won for the founders of the republic the admiration of the world. In these pages, how much knowledge of the past is combined with insight as to the future, what common sense is blent with learning, what perspicacity with breadth of view! Each department of the proposed government is described and analyzed; the political history of Greece, Rome, the Italian republics, France, and Great Britain examined for precedents and illustrations; popular objections answered; popular errors rectified; this provision explained, that clause justified; the judicial, legislative, and executive functions defined; national revenue discussed in all its relations; the advantages of our civil list, of a republic over a democracy in controlling the effects of faction, are clearly indicated; as are those attending the reservation of criminal and civil justice to the respective States: on the one hand the defects of the old Confederacy are stated with emphasis and truth, and on the other, the transcendent benefits of Federal union are elaborately argued, and economy, stability, and vigor proved to be its legitimate fruits. Of the evils of the old system, it is said: 'Let the point of extreme depression to which our national dignity and credit have sunk, let the inconvenience felt everywhere from a lax and ill-administered government, let the revolt of a part of North Carolina, the memory of insurrection in Pennsylvania, and actual insurrection in Massachusetts, declare it.' An unique distinction of this political treatise is that while Pericles, Cato, Hume, Montesquieu, Junius, and other classical and modern authorities are cited with scholarly tact, the most practical arguments drawn from the facts of the hour and the needs of the people, are conveyed in language the most lucid and impressive. To give a complete analysis of the 'Federalist' would require a volume; the glance we have cast upon its various topics sufficiently indicates the extent and importance of the work. Not less memorable is the spirit in which it was undertaken. 'A nation without a national government,' it is said, 'is, in my view, an awful spectacle;' and elsewhere--'The establishment of a constitution in times of profound peace, by the voluntary consent of a whole people, is a prodigy, to the completion of which I look forward with trembling anxiety.' 'I dread,' writes Jay, 'the more the consequences of new attempts, because I know that powerful individuals in this and in other States are enemies to a General National Government in every possible shape.'
Under such a sense of responsibility, with such patriotic solicitude did Hamilton, Madison, and Jay plead for the new Constitution with their fellow citizens of New York in the journals of the day, and it is these fragmentary comments and illustrations which, subsequently brought together in volumes, constitute 'the Federalist'; and well did they, toward the close of the discussion, observe: 'Let us now pause and ask ourselves whether, in the course of these papers, the proposed Constitution has not been satisfactorily vindicated from the aspersions thrown upon it, and whether it has not been shown worthy of the public approbation and necessary to the public safety and prosperity.' Whatever degree of sympathy or antagonism the intelligent reader of the 'Federalist' may feel, he can scarcely fail to admit that it is a masterly discussion of principles, and that the influence it exerted in securing the ratification of the Constitution in the State of New York, was a legitimate result of intelligent and conscientious advocacy. But the work has other than merely historical and literary claims upon our esteem at this hour. Its principles find confirmation here and now, in a degree and to an extent which lends new force and distinction to its authors as writers of political foresight and patriotic prescience. There are innumerable passages as applicable to the events of the last three years as if suggested by them; there are arguments and prophecies which have only attained practical demonstration through the terrible ordeal of civil war now raging around and in the heart of the republic.
When we saw the announcement of a new edition[15] of this national work, we hailed it as most seasonable and desirable: when the first volume came under our notice, our first feeling was one of gratitude to the editor for having taken such care to reproduce the work with the greatest possible correctness of text, obtained by patient collation of the different editions: regarding his labors as those of a disinterested historical student, ambitious to bring before the public a work full of warning and wisdom for this terrible national crisis, we at first saw in his annotations and comments only the labor of love whereby a standard work is illustrated and made more emphatic and complete: but, ere long, we found a spirit of detraction at work, a want of sympathy with the tone and a want of understanding of the motives of the authors, which made us regret that, instead of this partisan edition, the 'Federalist' had not been reissued with a brief explanatory introduction, and without note or comment.
Instead of a hearty recognition, we find a narrow interpretation of these eminent men: long-exploded slanders, born of partisan spite, are more in the mind of the editor than the permanent and invaluable traits which, to a generous and refined mind, constitute the legitimate claims of the work itself and the authors thereof. Guizot remarks: 'In the discussions of the numbers' (the 'Federalist'), 'for all that combines a profound knowledge of the great elementary principles of human government with the wisest maxims of practical administration, I do not know in the whole compass of my reading, whether from ancient or modern authors, so able a work.' _The Edinburgh Review_ says: 'The 'Federalist' is a publication that exhibits an extent and precision of information, a profundity of research and an acuteness of understanding, which would have done honor to the most illustrious statesmen of ancient or modern times.'
In contrast with these and similar instances of eminent foreign appreciation, the editor of this edition of the 'Federalist' attributes to tact what is due to truth, represents the people, as such, as opposed to the Constitution, and Hamilton, Jay, and Madison 'poor antagonists' in combating their objections; if so, how does he account for the remarkable triumph of their dispassionate exposition and lucid arguments? In all political and literary history there are few more benign and distinguished examples of the practical efficiency of intelligent, patriotic, and conscientious reasoning against ignorance, prejudice, and partisan misrepresentation. And yet, in the face of this testimony, by the self-constituted editor of this national work, Hamilton is described as sophistical and disingenuous, whose object is to deceive rather than to instruct, to mislead rather than enlighten, and whose motives are partisan rather than patriotic.
Throughout the introduction there is a spirit of latent detraction; insinuations against the aims and methods, if not against the character of the illustrious men whose memories are our most precious inheritance; we feel that, however industrious in research and ingenious in conjecture, the tone and range of the critic's mind are wholly inadequate for any sympathetic insight as to the nature of the men whose writings he undertakes to reintroduce to the public--and this irrespective of any difference of political opinion: something more than verbal accuracy and patient collation is requisite to interpret the 'Federalist' and appreciate its authors; even a political opponent, of kindred social and personal traits, would do better justice to the theme: and a truly patriotic citizen of the republic, at such a crisis as the present, could never find therein an appropriate occasion to magnify political differences at the expense of national sentiment.
Whatever the literary merit or political interest of the 'Federalist,' its moral value is derived from our faith in the absolute sincerity and profound convictions of its authors: not only does the internal evidence of every page bear emphatic testimony thereto, but the correspondence of each writer as well as of contemporary statesmen, attest the same truth: they regarded the condition of the country as ruinous, and lamented that the fruits of victory turned to ashes on the lips of the people, because there was no homogeneous and vital organization to conserve and administer the invaluable blessings won by the sword: against the suicidal jealousy of State rights as adequate for prosperous self-reliance without the bonds and blessings of a vital National Government, they earnestly directed the most patriotic and intelligent arguments: of these the 'Federalist' is the chief repertory; hence its value and interest as a popular treatise which prepared the way for the intelligent adoption of the Constitution; yet in this edition the introductory remarks impugn the sincerity of the authors, and attempt to revive the political heresy of extreme State as opposed to Federal power, which it is the primary object of the work to expose and condemn; and this at a time when the fatal doctrine is in vogue as what may be called the metaphysical apology for the most base and barbarous rebellion against free government recorded in history. According to this editor, Chancellor Livingston was 'dilatory and uncertain,' Duane sympathized with the Tories in power, Hamilton exaggerated the troubles of the country and consciously sought to make his fellow citizens attribute, against the facts, the depreciated currency and the dearth of trade to the weakness of the Confederation--making a false issue to effect a political triumph: 'his plan of operations,' his 'tact,' are referred to as if, instead of being a true patriot and conscientious statesman, he was a mere special pleader, intriguing and ambitious. Add to this that, when introducing the 'Federalist' to the public in what purports to be an historical preface, he is silent on the wonderful fruits of the Constitution therein advocated--and fails to indicate, as would any candid critic, the remarkable proofs which time and experience yield of the practical wisdom and patriotic foresight of the men whose honorable prestige he thus indirectly seeks to undermine. Jay, we are told, was regarded 'by the majority of his fellow citizens as selfish, impracticable, and aristocratic;' he is said to have been 'induced to undertake' his share of the 'Federalist;' he speaks of the small part he actually did write, without alluding to the fact that illness withdrew him from work of all kinds, after his third paper had been contributed--thus conveying the impression of a lukewarm zeal and even utter indifference; whereas not only do his own words confute the imputation, but we have Madison's declaration that the idea of the 'Federalist' was suggested by Jay; 'and it was undertaken last fall,' he writes to Jefferson, 'by Jay, Hamilton, and myself. The proposal came from the two former. The execution was thrown, by the sickness of Jay, mostly on the two others.' It is even insinuated by this editor that Jay confined himself to topics which could be discussed 'without compromising in the least his general political sentiments, and without obliging him to assent even by implication to any portion of the proposed Constitution.' The representative duties and offices again and again forced upon John Jay--whether as a writer, jurist, envoy, or legislator--the evidence of his own letters, and especially the testimony of his fellow statesmen, adequately confute such misrepresentations as we have noted. It is a thankless, and, we believe, a superfluous task to vindicate the manliness, sincerity, and patriotism of the authors of the 'Federalist' and their fellow statesmen; indeed, their illustrious opponents in political questions again and again bore witness to the worth, wisdom, and integrity of the _men_, while many disputed the doctrine of the writers; popular sentiment embalms their fame and cherishes their memories; the insinuations of any self-constituted editor cannot impair the confidence or reverse the verdict which time has only confirmed and national growth made more emphatic. On the other hand, such attempts to diminish the personal authority, by misrepresenting the methods and motives of these eminent men, as are exhibited in the whole tone and manner of this editorship of a national work, imply a perverted sense of the duties of the hour, an insensibility to the terrible crisis through which the nation is passing, that cannot be too severely condemned by the patriotic and intelligent of all parties. Now, if never before, we should keep bright the escutcheon of our country's honor, and renew our love and admiration for the fathers of the republic and our faith in their principles.
Scrupulous as firm, Jay acted with judicial moderation; he advocated the last petition before declaring hostility against Great Britain--desirous of trying every means before accepting the dread alternative of war; he insisted upon a general convention of the States before deciding upon the new Constitution; he was loyal until loyalty became an abrogation of free citizenship; law and justice with him went hand in hand with reform, and rectitude, not impulse, gave consistency to his course. Such a man lays himself open to factious criticism far more than reckless politicians, who are restrained by no sense of responsibility; but, on the other hand, in the last analysis, they stand forth the most pure because the most patient, just, and truly patriotic of representative statesmen.
'Mr. Jay,' says John Adams, 'had as much influence in the preparatory measures for digesting the Constitution and in obtaining its adoption as any man in the nation;' yet according to this editor of the 'Federalist,' he found therein 'little that he could commend, and nothing for which he could labor:' the same authority declares that he was regarded 'by the majority of his fellow citizens as selfish, impracticable, and aristocratic;' while Dr. McVickar justly remarks that the first thing that strikes us in contemplating his life is 'the unbroken continuity, the ceaseless succession of honorable confidences, throughout a period of twenty-eight years, reposed in Jay by his countrymen.'
But instead of dwelling upon such abortive disparagement, the only importance of which arises from its being annexed to and associated with a standard political text-book, let us refresh our memories, our patriotism, our best sympathies of mind and heart, by tracing once more the services and delineating the character of this illustrious man, whose benign image seems to invoke his countrymen, at this momentous climax of our national life, to recur to those principles and that faith which founded and should now save the republic.
Among the French Protestants who were obliged to seek a foreign home when the Edict of Nantes was revoked, was Pierre Jay, a prosperous merchant of Rochelle, who took up his abode in England. This statement alone is no inadequate illustration of the character of John Jay's paternal grandfather; sagacity, enterprise, and application, are qualities we may justly infer from commercial success; and when the fruits thereof were, in no small degree, sacrificed by adherence to a proscribed religion, no ordinary degree of moral courage and pure integrity must have been united to prudential industry. Those who believe in that aristocracy of nature whereby normal instincts are transmitted, will find even in this brief allusion to the Huguenot merchant traits identical with those which insured the public usefulness and endear the personal memory of his grandson. The latter's father, Augustus Jay, was one of three sons. He, with many others of the second generation of exiled French Protestants, found in America a more auspicious refuge than even the more free states of Europe afforded. A family who had previously emigrated to New York, under similar circumstances, naturally welcomed the new _emigre_; and the daughter of Bathezan Bayard became his wife. Their children consisted of three daughters and one son, who was named Peter for his grandfather. One of the prominent names of the original Dutch colonists of New York is Van Cortland; and Peter Jay married, in 1728, Mary, a daughter of this race, by whom he had ten children, of which John, the subject of this sketch, was the eighth. Genealogists, who reckon lineage according to humanity rather than pride, might find in the immediate ancestry of John Jay one of those felicitous combinations which so often mark the descent of eminent men among our Revolutionary statesmen. With the courteous and intelligent proclivities of Gallic blood the conservative, domestic, and honest nature of the Hollander united to form a well-balanced mind and efficient character. With the best associations of the time and place were blended the firmness of principle derived from ancestors who had suffered for conscience' sake; so that in the antecedents and very blood of the boy were elements of the Christian, patriot, and gentleman; which phases of his nature we find dominant and pervasive throughout his life; for it is a remarkable fact in the career of John Jay that by no triumph of extraordinary genius, by no favor of brilliant circumstances did he win and leave an honored name, but through the simple uprightness and the sound wisdom of a consistent and loyal character--so emphatic and yet unostentatious as to overcome, in the end, the most rancorous political injustice. His early training was no less favorable to this result than his birth. His father removed to Westchester county, and, on a pleasant rural domain still occupied by the family, the future jurist's childhood was passed. At that time there was a French church at New Rochelle, the pastor of which was an excellent scholar; and this gentleman fitted young Jay for college. He gave early proofs of a studious turn of mind and a reticent temperament; acquiring knowledge with pleasure and facility; and, for the most part, exhibiting a thoughtful demeanor. In some of his father's letters, alluding to his childhood, he is described as a boy of 'good capacity,' of 'grave disposition,' and one who 'takes to learning exceedingly well.' He attended the grammar school of the French clergyman until the age of fourteen, and then entered King's (now Columbia) College, at that time under the care of President Johnson. Here he became intimate with three youths with whom he was destined to be memorably associated in after life, and whose names, with his own, have since become historical--Gouverneur Morris, Alexander Hamilton, and Robert R. Livingston. We can easily imagine that the diversities of character between these remarkable men were already evident; the ardor and frankness of Hamilton, the emphatic rhetoric of Morris and fluent grace of Livingston must have singularly contrasted with the reserve, seriousness, and quietude of Jay; yet were they akin in the normal basis of character--in the love of knowledge, in loyalty to conviction, and that heart of courtesy which harmonizes the most diverse gifts of mind and traits of manner; even then no common mutual respect must have existed between them, and difference of opinion elicited both wit and wisdom. In a letter to the latter of these young friends, written soon after, Jay speaks of himself as 'ambitious;' but little in his subsequent life justifies the idea; he had more pride of character--more need to respect himself--than ambition, as that word is usually understood; excellence more than distinction was his aim;--no one of the leaders in the Revolution sought office less, none fulfilled its duties with more singleness of purpose, or escaped from its responsibilities with greater alacrity; the instincts of John Jay were mainly for truth, duty, and success, in the higher acceptation of the term. What he undertook, indeed, he strove to do well, but it was from an ideal rectitude and a pride of achievement more than a desire to gain applause and advancement; his ambition was more scholarly than political or personal. He graduated with the highest honors on the fifteenth of May, 1764, and delivered the Latin salutatory. His family had gained wealth and position in commerce, and it is probable that, with his clear-sighted perseverance, John Jay would have been a most successful merchant; but his tastes were intellectual; he determined to study law--at that period, in this country, when Blackstone's 'Commentaries' had not appeared, before Chancellor Kent had written, or a law school had been established, a discipline so arduous and uninviting as to be conscientiously adopted only by the most self-reliant and determined.
For a brief period Jay was the law partner of his friend Livingston, afterward the chancellor of the State. The evidences of his professional career, like those of so many eminent lawyers, are inadequate to suggest any clear idea of his method and ability, except so far as the respect he won, the practice he acquired, and the style of those state papers which are preserved, indicate argumentative powers, extensive knowledge, and finished style: in a few years he had become eminent at the bar, and while in the full tide of success, the exigencies of public affairs--the dawn of the American Revolution, called him from personal to patriotic duties. He was an active participant in the first meeting called to protest against the injustice and oppression of the British Government, and elected one of the committee of fifty chosen by the people, to decide upon a course of action: at his instance they recommended the appointment of deputies from each of the thirteen colonies. Jay was the youngest member of the Congress that met on the 5th of September, 1774, and was selected as one of the committee to draft an address to the people of Great Britain; in the next Congress he was one of the committee to prepare the declaration showing the causes and necessity of a resort to arms, and of that appointed to draft a petition to the king--as a last resort before actual hostilities; he also wrote the address to the people of Canada, Jamaica, and Ireland. The address to the people of Great Britain opens thus:
'When a nation, led to greatness by the hand of liberty, and
possessed of all the glory that heroism, munificence, and humanity
can bestow, descends to the ungrateful task of forging chains for
her friends and children, and, instead of giving support to
freedom, turns advocate for slavery and oppression, there is reason
to suspect she has either ceased to be virtuous, or been extremely
negligent in the appointment of her rulers.'
It concludes as follows:
'It is with the utmost regret that we find ourselves compelled, by
the overruling principles of self-preservation, to adopt measures
detrimental in their consequences to numbers of our fellow subjects
in Great Britain and Ireland. But we hope that the magnanimity and
justice of the British nation will furnish a Parliament of such
wisdom, independence, and public spirit, as may save the violated
rights of the whole empire from the devices of wicked ministers and
evil counsellors, whether in or out of office; and thereby restore
that harmony, friendship, and fraternal affection between all the
inhabitants of his majesty's kingdoms and territories, so ardently
wished for by every true and honest American.'
These and other state papers, emanating, as Jefferson declared, 'from the finest pen in America,' won the eloquent admiration of Chatham, and, by their dignified, rational, and well-informed spirit, had a great influence in securing, at the outset of the momentous struggle, the respect and sympathy of the wise and conscientious in both hemispheres, for the people and their enlightened and intrepid representatives.
As correspondent with the other colonies, in all the important discussions and arrangements, we find John Jay earnest, sagacious, and indefatigable: chosen a delegate to the New York colonial convention, he could not be present in Congress to sign the Declaration of Independence; but he reported the resolutions whereby his State endorsed that memorable instrument--her first official act toward American independence.
In 1774, Jay had married the daughter of Governor Livingston, of New Jersey; and the glimpses which his correspondence affords of his domestic life, indicate that in this regard he was peculiarly blest, not only in the sweet and dignified sympathies of a family inspired by tenderness, loyalty, and faith, but in the freshness and vigor of his own affections, whereby retirement became far more dear than the gratification even of patriotic ambition in an official career. His home was indeed overshadowed by the dark angel, and the loss of a beloved daughter long and deeply saddened his heart; but there was a daily beauty in the confidence and sympathy of his conjugal relation--hinted rather than developed in the freedom of his letters to the home whose attractions were only increased by absence and distance, in the respect and love of his sons, and the tender consideration devoted to his blind brother; while, spreading in beautiful harmony from this sacred centre, his heart and hand freely and faithfully responded to numerous and eminent ties of friendship, associations of enterprise and philanthropy, and the humblest claims of neighborhood and dependants.
His next eminent service was to draft the Constitution of New York; subsequently amended, it yet attests his patriotism and legal insight; while his own illustrations sanctioned its judicial workings: one of the council of safety and appointed chief justice of the supreme court, Jay maintained, but never abused the high authority with which he was thus invested; kindness to political opponents, devoid of all bitterness, inflexibly just, he was often compared to the unyielding and self-possessed characters of antiquity. When Clinton was preparing to join Burgoyne, Jay held his first court at Kingston--administering justice under the authority of an invaded State, and on the very line of an enemy's advance; under such circumstances, his uniform dignity, calmness, faith in the people, in the cause, and in the result, made a deep and salutary impression, enhanced by the courage exhibited in his charge to the grand jury. In order to serve as delegate to the Congress over which he soon presided, Jay resigned the chief justiceship on the tenth of November, 1778; and signalized his advent by a logical, seasonable, and cheering address to the people on the condition of affairs.
Jay's mind was essentially judicial: he had the temperament and taste as well as the reasoning powers desirable for legal investigation, and the probity and decision of character essential to an administrator of law. With strong domestic proclivities and rural taste--the conflicts, excitement, and responsibilities of a political career were alien to his nature; but the functions of the higher magistracy found in him a congenial representative. Accordingly, it is evident from his correspondence and the concurrent testimony of his kindred and friends, that while as chief justice his sphere of duty was, however laborious, full of interest to his mind--the vocation of a diplomatist was oppressive: he undertook it, as he had other temporary public offices, from conscientious patriotism; the same qualities which gave him influence and authority on the bench commended him specially to his fellow citizens as a negotiator in the difficult and dangerous exigencies produced in our foreign relations by the war with Great Britain. Tact, sagacity, courage--the ability to command respect and to advocate truth and maintain right--dignity of manner, benignity of temper--devotion to his country--all the requisites seemed to combine in the character of Jay, on the one hand to enforce just claims, and, on the other, to propitiate good will. To raise a loan and secure an alliance in Spain seemed a hopeless task: Jay undertook it, much to his personal inconvenience and with extreme reluctance. The history of his mission, as revealed by his correspondence and official documents, is a history of vexations, mortifications, and patient, isolated struggles with difficulties, such as few men would have encountered voluntarily or endured with equanimity. The Spanish Government shrank from a decisive course, feared self-committal, promised aid, and to concede, on certain terms, the right of the United States to navigate the Mississippi. Jay took council of Franklin, who advised him not to accede to the terms proposed, but to maintain 'the even good temper hitherto manifested.' Meantime Congress drew on him for the loan without waiting to hear that it had been negotiated; after a small advance, the Spanish Government declined the loan unless the sole right of navigating the Mississippi were granted. Having thus failed to accomplish the great object, which indeed was unattainable except at a sacrifice which subsequent events have proved would have essentially interfered with the prosperous development of the Southwest--Jay, sensitively vigilant of his country's credit, despite his habitual prudence, accepted the bill at his own credit; boldly assuming the responsibility; his claims on the Spanish Government were proved; Franklin remitted twenty-five thousand dollars; of the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, due December, 1780, only twenty-five thousand was paid by the following April; his outstanding acceptances amounted to two hundred and thirty-one thousand dollars--the greater part of which was due in two months. A more painful situation for a gentleman of refinement and honor can scarcely be imagined than that of John Jay--living without any salary, living on credit, scarcely recognized by the proud court to which he had been accredited; and yet maintaining his self-respect, persistent in his aim, courteous in his manner, faithful to his trust, harassed by anxiety--patient, true, and patriotic. As we read the lively and genial letters of the lamented Irving, when American minister at Madrid seventy years later, what a contrast to the high consideration and social amenities he enjoyed, are the humiliations and the baffled zeal of Jay, when obliged to 'stand and wait,' under circumstances at once so perplexing and hopeless! In March, 1782, the bills were protested; but the credit that seemed utterly destroyed was soon retrieved, though Jay found himself constrained, by the instructions of his Government, to yield the right of navigating the Mississippi in order to secure the treaty; having drawn and presented it, his presence was no longer requisite, and he proceeded to France to act in concert with Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, and Lee in negotiating for peace.
In June, 1782, Jay arrived in Paris, and, with Franklin, for the most part carried on the negotiations which resulted in the treaty of peace; it was a period of 'painful anxiety and difficult labor:' Hamilton, Jefferson, and other of his eminent countrymen recognized warmly his services and his success: he did not altogether agree with Franklin, and was pertinacious in claiming all respect due to the Government he represented, assuring the British envoy that he would take no part in the business unless the United States 'were treated as an independent nation:' he drew up such a commission as would meet his views. While Hamilton gave Jay full credit for sagacity and honesty, he thought him suspicious, because he so far evaded his instructions as not to show 'the preliminary articles to our ally before he signed them:' this caution, however, arose from Jay's patriotic circumspection; he excused himself on the ground that his instructions 'had been given for the benefit of America, and not of France,' and argued justly that there was discretionary power to consult the public good rather than any literal directions, the spirit, aim, and scope thereof being steadily adhered to. Subsequent revelations abundantly proved that sagacity rather than suspicion, and knowledge more than conjecture justified Jay's course. There is a letter of Pickering, when Secretary of State, to Pinckney, when about to visit France as envoy from the United States Government, in regard to which Washington manifests in his correspondence particular solicitude for the absolute correctness of its statements; wherein the treachery of the French Government is demonstrated from official documents. Jay, during his residence in Spain, had ample opportunity to realize the selfish intrigues of the Bourbon dynasty, and he had a better insight as to the real objects of the French Government, from examining its policy at a distance and in connection with an ally, than Franklin, who had been exposed to its immediate blandishments, and had so many personal reasons for confidence and hope. Vergennes, then prime minister, looked to the relinquishment of the fisheries, and while France, from animosity to Great Britain, cheerfully aided us in the war of the Revolution, it was no part of her secret purpose to foster into independent greatness the power which she befriended from motives of policy during her own struggle with England. Jay, therefore, insisted upon a recognition of our independence on the part of Great Britain, not as the first article of the treaty, but as _un fait accompli_; and wisely declined to allow the French minister, whose plans and views he so well understood, to see the advantageous terms we made with the formidable enemy of France, until those terms were accepted, and the treaty signed.
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The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No 3, September 1864Chapter IX: Part I: The Ideal (3)
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