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The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No 3, September 1864
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Among the French Protestants who were obliged to seek a foreign home when the Edict of Nantes was revoked, was Pierre Jay, a prosperous merchant of Rochelle, who took up his abode in England.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 emigré; 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.
After visiting England and returning to Paris, having declined an invitation from the Spanish Government to resume negotiations, and also a tender from his own Government of the English mission, Jay returned to his native land with delight, and on landing in New York, on the 24th of July, 1784, was received with great honor and affection. Ten years of public life had so little weaned him from his legal proclivities that he had determined to resume practice; but Congress urged upon him the important position of Secretary of Foreign Affairs, which place he filled with distinguished ability until the convention to form the Constitution met. In his correspondence, Jay's views of government are frankly and clearly unfolded: he had experienced the manifold evils of inadequate authority; and while he would have power emanate from the people, he deeply felt the necessity of making it sufficient for the exigencies of civil society: a strong General Government, therefore, he deemed essential to national prosperity; his theory was not speculative, but practical, founded upon observation and experience: it was sustained by the wisest and best of his countrymen: it was, however, opposed to a prevalent idea of State rights, a jealousy of their surrender and infringement; comparatively few of his fellow citizens had, by reading and reflection, risen to the level of the problem whose solution was to be found in a charter at once securing all essential private rights and local freedom, while binding together, in a firm and patriotic union, the will and interests of a continent. Add to these obstacles the fierce partisan feeling engendered by the circumstances of the time and country—fears of aristocratic influences on the one hand, and sectional intrigues on the other, and we can easily perceive that the first duty of the enlightened and patriotic was to clear away prejudices, explain principles, advocate cardinal political truths, and lift the whole subject out of the dense region of faction and into the calm and clear sphere of reason and truth. Accordingly, Hamilton, Madison, Jay, and others, by public discussion sought to elucidate and vindicate the Constitution: by conversation, correspondence, in the committee room and the assembly, through reference to the past, analysis of the present, anticipations of the future, John Jay, directly and indirectly advocated and illustrated the Constitution. With his gifted coadjutors he became an efficient political essayist; and, though prevented by illness from contributing largely to the 'Federalist,' he wrote enough to identify himself honorably with that favorite American classic of statesmen. His frankness, lucid style, perspicuous sense, made him as effective a writer in his own manner as the more intrepid Hamilton. When Washington came to New York to be inaugurated as first President of the United States, Jay proffered his hospitality with characteristic simplicity and good sense; he received the votes of two States as Vice President; at Washington's request he continued to perform the duties of Foreign Secretary until Jefferson assumed the office, when, with eminent satisfaction and in accordance with Jay's views, the President sent the latter's name to the Senate as Chief Justice, thus associating him with his Administration.
When Genet's arrival had stimulated partisan zeal into reckless faction, and his insulting course widened the breach between the two political sects, their representatives were exposed to all the unjust aspersion and violent prejudice born of extreme opinions and free discussions: one party held in high esteem the principles of the British constitution, recognized the moral as well as civic necessity of a strong central Government, and dreaded the unbridled license of French demagoguism; they steadily opposed any identity of action or responsibility in foreign affairs, cherished self-respect and self-reliance as the safeguard of the States, and sustained the dignified and consistent course of Washington: of these, John Jay was one of the most firm and intelligent advocates, and hence the object of the most unscrupulous partisan rancor: the name of Monarchist was substituted for Federalist, of Jacobin for Democrat: on the one hand, the British minister reproached the American Government with injustice to British subjects and interests, contrary to treaty stipulations; on the other, Genet complained of the ingratitude of the Government, and sought to array the people against it: England had not as yet fulfilled her part of the treaty; along the frontiers her troops still garrisoned the forts; the lakes were not free for American craft, and no remuneration had been made by Great Britain for the negroes which her fleet carried off at the close of the war: meantime her warlike attitude toward France made still fiercer the conflict of the respective partisans on this side of the Atlantic; American seamen were impressed; crowds surrounded the President's house, clamorous for war; and he was only sustained in the Senate by an extremely small majority, while the Democratic party were eager for immediate action against England. At this crisis, Washington resolved to try another experiment for conciliation, and to this end proposed Jay as especial envoy to Great Britain. His nomination was opposed in the Senate, but prevailed by a vote of eighteen against eight. The mission was not desired by him. Uncongenial as were absence from home and diplomatic cares, this exile and duty were, in all private respects, opposed to his tastes and wishes; he foresaw the difficulties, anticipated the result, but, once convinced that he owed the sacrifice of personal to public considerations, he now, as before and subsequently, brought all his conscientiousness and intelligence to the service of his country. His reception at the court of St. James was kind and considerate, and his intercourse with Grenville, then Secretary of Foreign Affairs, carried on with the greatest mutual respect. A treaty was negotiated—Jay obtaining the best terms in his power: no state paper ever gave rise to more virulent controversy; it became a new line of demarcation, a new test of party feeling: Hamilton was its eloquent advocate, Jefferson its violent antagonist: Washington doubted the expediency of accepting it; and it passed the Senate by a bare majority. While in a calm retrospect we acknowledge many serious objections to such a treaty, they do not account for the intense excitement it caused; and the circumstances under which it was executed sufficiently explain, while they do not reconcile us to, the signal advantages it secured to Great Britain. She agreed to give up the forts;—but this concession had already been made; to compensate for illegal captures; there was a provision for collecting British debts in America; and in a commercial point of view American interests were sacrificed; it was declared a treaty wherein a weak power evidently succumbed to a strong: but on the other hand, public expectation had been extravagant: no reasonable American citizen, cognizant of the state of the facts and of party feeling, could have believed it possible to secure, at the time and under the circumstances, a satisfactory understanding; and no candid mind could doubt that a negotiator so patriotic, firm, and wise as John Jay had earnestly sought to make the best of a difficult cause, or that he was 'clear in his great office'—an office reluctantly accepted. It has been well said of Jay's treaty that 'now few defend it on principle, many on policy.' When its ratification was advised by the Senate, and it became public, the whole country was aroused; all the latent venom of partisan hate and all the wise forbearance of patriotic self-possession were arrayed face to face in so fierce an opposition that Washington justly described the period as 'a momentous crisis.' It was denounced as cowardly; it was defended as expedient; copies were publicly destroyed amid shouts of exultation: Jay was burned in effigy; the Boston Chamber of Commerce voted in favor of its ratification: Hamilton, under the signature of 'Camillus,' analyzed its claims, and deprecated the bitter hostility it had evoked; and Fisher Ames, in pleading for moderation to both parties, in the House of Representatives, embalmed his patriotic counsel with such heroic patience and eloquent references to his approaching end, that his speech became one of the standard exemplars of American eloquence.