|
To Lafayette Monticello, February 14, 1815
MY DEAR FRIEND, -- Your letter of August the 14th has been
received and read again, and again, with extraordinary pleasure. It
is the first glimpse which has been furnished me of the interior
workings of the late unexpected but fortunate revolution of your
country. The newspapers told us only that the great beast was
fallen; but what part in this the patriots acted, and what the
egotists, whether the former slept while the latter were awake to
their own interests only, the hireling scribblers of the English
press said little and knew less. I see now the mortifying
alternative under which the patriot there is placed, of being either
silent, or disgraced by an association in opposition with the remains
of Bonapartism. A full measure of liberty is not now perhaps to be
expected by your nation, nor am I confident they are prepared to
preserve it. More than a generation will be requisite, under the
administration of reasonable laws favoring the progress of knowledge
in the general mass of the people, and their habituation to an
independent security of person and property, before they will be
capable of estimating the value of freedom, and the necessity of a
sacred adherence to the principles on which it rests for
preservation. Instead of that liberty which takes root and growth in
the progress of reason, if recovered by mere force or accident, it
becomes, with an unprepared people, a tyranny still, of the many, the
few, or the one. Possibly you may remember, at the date of the jeu
de paume, how earnestly I urged yourself and the patriots of my
acquaintance, to enter then into a compact with the king, securing
freedom of religion, freedom of the press, trial by jury, habeas
corpus, and a national legislature, all of which it was known he
would then yield, to go home, and let these work on the amelioration
of the condition of the people, until they should have rendered them
capable of more, when occasions would not fail to arise for
communicating to them more. This was as much as I then thought them
able to bear, soberly and usefully for themselves. You thought
otherwise, and that the dose might still be larger. And I found you
were right; for subsequent events proved they were equal to the
constitution of 1791. Unfortunately, some of the most honest and
enlightened of our patriotic friends, (but closet politicians merely,
unpractised in the knowledge of man,) thought more could still be
obtained and borne. They did not weigh the hazards of a transition
from one form of government to another, the value of what they had
already rescued from those hazards, and might hold in security if
they pleased, nor the imprudence of giving up the certainty of such a
degree of liberty, under a limited monarch, for the uncertainty of a
little more under the form of a republic. You differed from them.
You were for stopping there, and for securing the constitution which
the National Assembly had obtained. Here, too, you were right; and
from this fatal error of the republicans, from their separation from
yourself and the constitutionalists, in their councils, flowed all
the subsequent sufferings and crimes of the French nation. The
hazards of a second change fell upon them by the way. The foreigner
gained time to anarchise by gold the government he could not
overthrow by arms, to crush in their own councils the genuine
republicans, by the fraternal embraces of exaggerated and hired
pretenders, and to turn the machine of Jacobinism from the change to
the destruction of order; and, in the end, the limited monarchy they
had secured was exchanged for the unprincipled and bloody tyranny of
Robespierre, and the equally unprincipled and maniac tyranny of
Bonaparte. You are now rid of him, and I sincerely wish you may
continue so. But this may depend on the wisdom and moderation of the
restored dynasty. It is for them now to read a lesson in the fatal
errors of the republicans; to be contented with a certain portion of
power, secured by formal compact with the nation, rather than,
grasping at more, hazard all upon uncertainty, and risk meeting the
fate of their predecessor, or a renewal of their own exile. We are
just informed, too, of an example which merits, if true, their most
profound contemplation. The gazettes say that Ferdinand of Spain is
dethroned, and his father re-established on the basis of their new
constitution. This order of magistrates must, therefore, see, that
although the attempts at reformation have not succeeded in their
whole length, and some secession from the ultimate point has taken
place, yet that men have by no means fallen back to their former
passiveness, but on the contrary, that a sense of their rights, and a
restlessness to obtain them, remain deeply impressed on every mind,
and, if not quieted by reasonable relaxations of power, will break
out like a volcano on the first occasion, and overwhelm everything
again in its way. I always thought the present king an honest and
moderate man; and having no issue, he is under a motive the less for
yielding to personal considerations. I cannot, therefore, but hope,
that the patriots in and out of your legislature, acting in phalanx,
but temperately and wisely, pressing unremittingly the principles
omitted in the late capitulation of the king, and watching the
occasions which the course of events will create, may get those
principles engrafted into it, and sanctioned by the solemnity of a
national act.
With us the affairs of war have taken the most favorable turn
which was to be expected. Our thirty years of peace had taken off,
or superannuated, all our revolutionary officers of experience and
grade; and our first draught in the lottery of un-tried characters
had been most unfortunate. The delivery of the fort and army of
Detroit by the traitor Hull; the disgrace at Queenstown, under Van
Rensellaer; the massacre at Frenchtown under Winchester; and
surrender of Boerstler in an open field to one-third of his own
numbers, were the inauspicious beginnings of the first year of our
warfare. The second witnessed but the single miscarriage occasioned
by the disagreement of Wilkinson and Hampton, mentioned in my letter
to you of November the 30th, 1813, while it gave us the capture of
York by Dearborne and Pike; the capture of Fort George by Dearborne
also; the capture of Proctor's army on the Thames by Harrison, Shelby
and Johnson, and that of the whole British fleet on Lake Erie by
Perry. The third year has been a continued series of victories,
to-wit: of Brown and Scott at Chippewa, of the same at Niagara; of
Gaines over Drummond at Fort Erie; that of Brown over Drummond at the
same place; the capture of another fleet on Lake Champlain by
M'Donough; the entire defeat of their army under Prevost, on the same
day, by M'Comb, and recently their defeats at New Orleans by Jackson,
Coffee and Carroll, with the loss of four thousand men out of nine
thousand and six hundred, with their two Generals, Packingham and
Gibbs killed, and a third, Keane, wounded, mortally, as is said.
This series of successes has been tarnished only by the
conflagration at Washington, a coup de main differing from that at
Richmond, which you remember, in the revolutionary war, in the
circumstance only, that we had, in that case, but forty-eight hours'
notice that an enemy had arrived within our capes; whereas, at
Washington, there was abundant previous notice. The force designated
by the President was double of what was necessary; but failed, as is
the general opinion, through the insubordination of Armstrong, who
would never believe the attack intended until it was actually made,
and the sluggishness of Winder before the occasion, and his
indecision during it. Still, in the end, the transaction has helped
rather than hurt us, by arousing the general indignation of our
country, and by marking to the world of Europe the Vandalism and
brutal character of the English government. It has merely served to
immortalize their infamy. And add further, that through the whole
period of the war, we have beaten them single-handed at sea, and so
thoroughly established our superiority over them with equal force,
that they retire from that kind of contest, and never suffer their
frigates to cruize singly. The Endymion would never have engaged the
frigate President, but knowing herself backed by three frigates and a
razee, who, though somewhat slower sailers, would get up before she
could be taken. The disclosure to the world of the fatal secret that
they can be beaten at sea with an equal force, the evidence furnished
by the military operations of the last year that experience is
rearing us officers who, when our means shall be fully under way,
will plant our standard on the walls of Quebec and Halifax, their
recent and signal disaster at New Orleans, and the evaporation of
their hopes from the Hartford convention, will probably raise a
clamor in the British nation, which will force their ministry into
peace. I say force them, because, willingly, they would never be
at peace. The British ministers find in a state of war rather than
of peace, by riding the various contractors, and receiving douceurs
on the vast expenditures of the war supplies, that they recruit their
broken fortunes, or make new ones, and therefore will not make peace
as long as by any delusions they can keep the temper of the nation up
to the war point. They found some hopes on the state of our
finances. It is true that the excess of our banking institutions,
and their present discredit, have shut us out from the best source of
credit we could ever command with certainty. But the foundations of
credit still remain to us, and need but skill which experience will
soon produce, to marshal them into an order which may carry us
through any length of war. But they have hoped more in their
Hartford convention. Their fears of republican France being now done
away, they are directed to republican America, and they are playing
the same game for disorganization here, which they played in your
country. The Marats, the Dantons and Robespierres of Massachusetts
are in the same pay, under the same orders, and making the same
efforts to anarchise us, that their prototypes in France did there.
I do not say that all who met at Hartford were under the same
motives of money, nor were those of France. Some of them are Outs,
and wish to be Inns; some the mere dupes of the agitators, or of
their own party passions, while the Maratists alone are in the real
secret; but they have very different materials to work on. The
yeomanry of the United States are not the canaille of Paris. We
might safely give them leave to go through the United States
recruiting their ranks, and I am satisfied they could not raise one
single regiment (gambling merchants and silk-stocking clerks
excepted) who would support them in any effort to separate from the
Union. The cement of this Union is in the heart-blood of every
American. I do not believe there is on earth a government
established on so immovable a basis. Let them, in any State, even in
Massachusetts itself, raise the standard of separation, and its
citizens will rise in mass, and do justice themselves on their own
incendiaries. If they could have induced the government to some
effort of suppression, or even to enter into discussion with them, it
would have given them some importance, have brought them into some
notice. But they have not been able to make themselves even a
subject of conversation, either of public or private societies. A
silent contempt has been the sole notice they excite; consoled,
indeed, some of them, by the palpable favors of Philip. Have then
no fears for us, my friend. The grounds of these exist only in
English newspapers, endited or endowed by the Castlereaghs or the
Cannings, or some other such models of pure and uncorrupted virtue.
Their military heroes, by land and sea, may sink our oyster boats,
rob our hen roosts, burn our negro huts, and run off. But a campaign
or two more will relieve them from further trouble or expense in
defending their American possessions.
You once gave me a copy of the journal of your campaign in
Virginia, in 1781, which I must have lent to some one of the
undertakers to write the history of the revolutionary war, and forgot
to reclaim. I conclude this, because it is no longer among my
papers, which I have very diligently searched for it, but in vain.
An author of real ability is now writing that part of the history of
Virginia. He does it in my neighborhood, and I lay open to him all
my papers. But I possess none, nor has he any, which can enable him
to do justice to your faithful and able services in that campaign.
If you could be so good as to send me another copy, by the very first
vessel bound to any port in the United States, it might be here in
time; for although he expects to begin to print within a month or
two, yet you know the delays of these undertakings. At any rate it
might be got in as a supplement. The old Count Rochambeau gave me
also his _memoire_ of the operations at York, which is gone in the
same way, and I have no means of applying to his family for it.
Perhaps you could render them as well as us, the service of procuring
another copy.
I learn, with real sorrow, the deaths of Monsieur and Madame de
Tesse. They made an interesting part in the idle reveries in which I
have sometimes indulged myself, of seeing all my friends of Paris
once more, for a month or two; a thing impossible, which, however, I
never permitted myself to despair of. The regrets, however, of
seventy-three at the loss of friends, may be the less, as the time is
shorter within which we are to meet again, according to the creed of
our education.
This letter will be handed you by Mr. Ticknor, a young
gentleman of Boston, of great erudition, indefatigable industry, and
preparation for a life of distinction in his own country. He passed
a few days with me here, brought high recommendations from Mr. Adams
and others, and appeared in every respect to merit them. He is well
worthy of those attentions which you so kindly bestow on our
countrymen, and for those he may receive I shall join him in
acknowledging personal obligations.
I salute you with assurances of my constant and affectionate
friendship and respect.
P. S. February 26th. My letter had not yet been sealed, when I
received news of our peace. I am glad of it, and especially that we
closed our war with the eclat of the action at New Orleans. But I
consider it as an armistice only, because no security is provided
against the impressment of our seamen. While this is unsettled we
are in hostility of mind with England, although actual deeds of arms
may be suspended by a truce. If she thinks the exercise of this
outrage is worth eternal war, eternal war it must be, or
extermination of the one or the other party. The first act of
impressment she commits on an American, will be answered by reprisal,
or by a declaration of war here; and the interval must be merely a
state of preparation for it. In this we have much to do, in further
fortifying our seaport towns, providing military stores, classing and
disciplining our militia, arranging our financial system, and above
all, pushing our domestic manufactures, which have taken such root as
never again can be shaken.
Once more, God bless you.
|