Could Spain stop them?  No.  But he, the Man, would stop them.  He would raise up in Louisiana as a monument to himself a daughter of France to curb their ambition.  America should not be all Anglo-Saxon.

Already the Americans had compelled Spain to open the River.  How long before they would overrun Louisiana itself, until a Frenchman or a Spaniard could scarce be found in the land?

Sadly, in accordance with the treaty which Monsieur Talleyrand had known nothing about, his Catholic Majesty instructed his Intendant at New Orleans to make ready to deliver Louisiana to the French Commission.  That was in July, 1802.  This was not exactly an order to close the River again—­in fact, his Majesty said nothing about closing the River.  Mark the reasoning of the Spanish mind.  The Intendant closed the River as his plain duty.  And Kentucky and Tennessee, wayward, belligerent infants who had outgrown their swaddling clothes, were heard from again.  The Nation had learned to listen to them.  The Nation was very angry.  Mr. Hamilton and the Federalists and many others would have gone to war and seized the Floridas.

Mr. Jefferson said, “Wait and see what his Catholic Majesty has to say.”  Mr. Jefferson was a man of great wisdom, albeit he had mistaken Jacobinism for something else when he was younger.  And he knew that Napoleon could not play chess in the wind.  The wind was rising.

Mr. Livingston was a patriot, able, importunate, but getting on in years and a little hard of hearing.  Importunity without an Army and a Navy behind it is not effective—­especially when there is no wind.  But Mr. Jefferson heard the wind rising, and he sent Mr. Monroe to Mr. Livingston’s aid.  Mr. Monroe was young, witty, lively, popular with people he met.  He, too, heard the wind rising, and so now did Mr. Livingston.

The ships containing the advance guard of the colonists destined for the new Louisiana lay in the roads at Dunkirk, their anchors ready to weigh,—­three thousand men, three thousand horses, for the Man did things on a large scale.  The anchors were not weighed.

His Catholic Majesty sent word from Spain to Mr. Jefferson that he was sorry his Intendant had been so foolish.  The River was opened again.

The Treaty of Amiens was a poor wind-shield.  It blew down, and the chessmen began to totter.  One George of England, noted for his frugal table and his quarrelsome disposition, who had previously fought with France, began to call the Man names.  The Man called George names, and sat down to think quickly.  George could not be said to be on the best of terms with his American relations, but the Anglo-Saxon is unsentimental, phlegmatic, setting money and trade and lands above ideals.  George meant to go to war again.  Napoleon also meant to go to war again.  But George meant to go to war again right away, which was inconvenient and inconsiderate, for Napoleon had not finished his game of chess.  The obvious outcome of the situation was that George with his Navy would get Louisiana, or else help his relations to get it.  In either case Louisiana would become Anglo-Saxon.