Andro Linklater - An Artist in Treason - The Extraordinary Double Life of General James Wilkinson

The need to counter the damage of this new policy kept Wilkinson in New Orleans during the summer of 1789. Amid efforts to disentangle the legal mess left by Dunn’s suicide, he and Miró spent three months discussing the proper strategy for Spain to follow. The outcome was a second memorial, written in September. That it was a joint collaboration, not just with Miró but with the free-trade philosophy of Navarro, was apparent from a striking passage extolling free enterprise over Spain’s mercantile economy that restricted trade to its own colonies and ships: “Our navigation being confined at present to Spanish vessels, and our commerce to a few Spanish ports and islands, rivalry [i.e., competition], which is the vital principle of commerce, is dead, and the immediate consequences follow; our merchandise in dry goods [i.e., textiles and clothing] is now sold at from 75 per cent. to 150 per cent. more than in North America, and the freightage of one cask of tobacco from New Orleans to any part of Europe costs as much as four casks from any part of the United States to the same place.”

Their solution was to urge the council to make New Orleans a free port open to all trade from the sea, although river traffic would still be restricted. But by now the United States had both free enterprise, and, since the inauguration of George Washington as president in April, a democratic, federal government that “although untried and of doubtful success,” as Wilkinson grudgingly put it, “has inspired the people in general with the loftiest hopes.” Nevertheless, he believed a window of opportunity existed before this new, formidable entity could unify the conflicting ambitions of east and west. “To seize this interval,” he declared, “and to take advantage of the occasion are certainly the true policy of Spain, are my longings, are my desire.”

Some requirements remained unchanged—the Mississippi had to be closed, immigration encouraged, influential men given commercial advantages to illustrate the advantage of Spain’s protection—but the secessionist cause now had to overcome the effects of U.S. patronage. Many of Kentucky’s “notables,” once loudly in favor of independence, had fallen silent after being appointed as federal judges, revenue officers, or tax officials, so Spain should be ready to buy their loyalty back and pay them “to accomplish the above- mentioned separation and independence from the United States.” For a cost of twenty thousand dollars a year, Wilkinson estimated, Spain could procure the support of the most influential men in Kentucky. The alternative, as he bluntly predicted, was that “instead of forming a barrier for Louisiana and Mexico, [the settlers] will busy themselves in conquering the one and attacking the other.”

In a separate document, he provided a list of twenty-two people who should be offered bribes. Nearly all were either friends, such as Harry Innes, who, although a federal judge, “would much prefer to receive a pension from New Orleans than one from New York,” or enemies he wanted to buy off, such as Humphrey Marshall, once his partner but now suing him over a failed land deal, and thus “a villain without principles, very artful and could be very troublesome.” As though conscious that he was serving his own purposes, Wilkinson stressed his zeal and loyalty to Spain’s interest. In one passage, he suggested openly switching sides and asked Madrid to grant him “a military commission, because I know that the force of my genius inclines to the science of war, and that in this capacity I can afford the strongest proofs of fidelity, loyalty, and zeal.”

Again the royal council failed to provide a speedy response. To its members, it must have seemed clear that the bribery proposal was designed for Wilkinson’s own benefit, an inference reinforced by his request for a loan of seven thousand dollars. But as a soldier, Miró would have understood the significance of Wilkinson’s request for a Spanish commission. Armies required oaths of loyalty. There were no gray areas about service in a foreign force. It was not like politics. His friend had crossed a line. He was prepared for treachery.

James Wilkinson’s long absence in New Orleans left Nancy distraught once more. “My anxiety about him is so great that I scarce have Composure enough to write,” she told her elderly father that fall, “not a foot steps quick into the House but agitates me, his Continual absence keeps my Mind on the rack.” In 1788 the family had moved from the wilderness back to the comparative civilization of Lexington, whose population was 834 in the 1790 census. “I like living in Lexington far better than in the Country,” she wrote soon after the move. “The Society is much better.” Being close to the store made it easier to receive the bags of tea, coffee, and sugar that were sent from Philadelphia—“I really think I could do better without my dinner than my Tea & Coffee,” she declared—and goods such as earthenware cups and saucers could be bought to replace all the ones the family broke, although she still had to ask her father to send the delicate chinaware that she preferred.

Yet the taste of these comforts only made her hungrier to see her family in Pennsylvania again. “I can’t help wishing more and more every day to Visit you, & my dear children seem to join me most ardently in my wish.” Loyal to her husband, she did not allow herself to write of her deepest feelings about life on the frontier, but her children became her mouthpiece. In revealing asides, she wrote of her eldest son, John, exclaiming that “if he ever gets out of Kentucky he never will return if he can prevent it,” and of two- year- old Joseph crying bitterly for the grandfather he had never seen.

Her health remained delicate. A baby had been stillborn in early 1789 while Wilkinson was absent in Frankfort loading tobacco in the boats, and Nancy was slow to recover. A doctor had suggested that the fresher river air by the Ohio might do her good, and just before he departed for New Orleans, Wilkinson bought a half- acre lot in Louisville from an unreliable French- born speculator named Michael La Cassagne. Louisville was only a quarter of the size of Lexington, but from Nancy’s point of view it had the advantage of being on the Ohio, the main line of communication with the east. But like her hopes of seeing her family back in Philadelphia, the move would happen only if they had the money. In September 1789 when she began to expect her husband back, she wrote optimistically, “I think it Probable we shall spend Part of this Winter at the falls [Louisville], however it will depend greatly on My Jimmy’s Business.”

When Wilkinson returned at the end of October, they did indeed move to Louisville, but not because his business was thriving. Much of his most valuable real estate was put up for sale, “a valuable tract of land of 10,000 acres, together or in small parcels,” along with the livestock he kept on it, and “several houses and lots in this town [Lexington],” including the store. It was not quite a fire sale, but all of it was “to be sold for cash or exchanged for merchandise” as soon as possible.

10

ENSHACKLED BY DEBT

JAMES WILKINSON HAD TWO WEAKNESSES as a businessman— his readiness to mistake his gross profit for net gain, and his reluctance to prepare for the worst. On his 1787 voyage, when he had stayed so long in New Orleans, expenses ate up all but $377 of the $10,185 his cargo earned. The following year, tobacco sales brought in $16,372, but expenses, including almost $1,000 for boatmen’s wages, left only $6,251 in silver Mexican dollars for Abner Dunn, brother of his partner, to bring north. In 1789, Wilkinson sent down 342 hogsheads of tobacco, and although almost one third was found to be so rotten it could not be brought to market, the remainder sold for $18,131. Yet once Clark, an investor in the cargo, had been paid his share, Miró had taken his $3,000 cut, and Nolan had paid out other sums, just $49 was left in the Wilkinson and Dunn account. There was nothing to invest in next season’s trade. Whatever credit Wilkinson still had in Kentucky absolutely depended on the goodwill of New Orleans. Without Miró he could not survive.