Volume I Part 6 (1/2)
Meantime the Chief Justice was returning home from Vermont by way of Albany. At Lansingburgh the people met him, and from thence to New York public addresses and public dinners were followed with the roar of artillery and the shouts of the populace. ”Though abuse of power may for a time deprive you and the citizens of their right,” said one committee, ”we trust the sacred flame of liberty is not so far extinguished in the bosoms of Americans as tamely to submit to the shackles of slavery, without at least a struggle to shake them off.”[66] Citizens of New York met him eight miles from the city, and upon his arrival, ”the friends of liberty” condemned the men who would deprive him of the high office ”in contempt of the sacred voice of the people, in defiance of the Const.i.tution, and in violation of the uniform practice and settled principles of law.”[67]
[Footnote 66: William Jay, _Life of John Jay_, Vol. 1, p. 290.]
[Footnote 67: _Ibid._, p. 292.]
During these days of excitement, Jay conducted himself with remarkable forbearance and dignity. It was the poise of Was.h.i.+ngton. ”The reflection that the majority of electors were for me is a pleasing one,” he wrote his wife; ”that injustice has taken place does not surprise me, and I hope will not affect you very sensibly. The intelligence found me perfectly prepared for it. A few years more will put us all in the dust, and it will then be of more importance to me to have governed myself than to have governed the State.”[68] This thought influenced his conduct throughout. When armed resistance seemed inevitable, he raised his voice in opposition to all feeling.
”Every consideration of propriety forbids that difference in opinion respecting candidates should suspend or interrupt that natural good humour which harmonises society, and softens the asperities incident to human life and human affairs.”[69] At a large dinner on the 4th of July, Jay gave the toast: ”May the people always respect themselves, and remember what they owe to posterity;” but after he had retired, the banqueters let loose their tongues, drinking to ”John Jay, Governor by voice of the people,” and to ”the Governor (of right) of the State of New York.”
[Footnote 68: _Ibid._, p. 289.]
[Footnote 69: _Ibid._, p. 293.]
Clinton entered upon his sixth term as governor amidst vituperation and obloquy. He was known as the ”Usurper,” and in order to reduce him to a mere figurehead, the Federalists who controlled the a.s.sembly, led by Josiah Ogden Hoffman, the brilliant New York lawyer, now proposed to choose a new Council of Appointment, although the term of the old Council had not yet expired. The Const.i.tution provided that the Council should hold office one year, and that the Governor, with the advice of the Council, should appoint to office. Up to this time such had been the accepted practice. Nevertheless, the Federalists, having a majority of the a.s.sembly, forced the election of a Council made up entirely of members of their own party, headed by Philip Schuyler, the veteran legislator and soldier, and then proceeded to nominate and confirm Egbert Benson as a judge of the Supreme Court. Clinton, as governor and a member of the Council, refused to nominate Benson, insisting that the exclusive right of nomination was vested in him.
Here the matter should have ended under the Const.i.tution as Jay interpreted it; but Schuyler held otherwise, claiming that the Council had a concurrent right to nominate. He went further, and decided that whenever the law omitted to limit the number of officers, the Council might do it, and whenever an officer must be commissioned annually, another might be put in his place at the expiration of his commission.
This would give the Council power to increase at will the number of officials not otherwise limited by law, and to displace every anti-Federalist at the expiration of his commission.
Clinton argued that the governor, being charged under the Const.i.tution with the execution of the laws, was vested with exclusive discretion as to the number of officers necessary to their execution, whereas, if left to one not responsible for such execution, too many or too few officials might be created. With respect to the continuation of an inc.u.mbent in office at the pleasure of the Council, ”the Const.i.tution did not intend,” he said, ”a capricious, arbitrary pleasure, but a sound discretion to be exercised for the promotion of the public good; that a contrary practice would deprive men of their offices because they have too much independence of spirit to support measures they suppose injurious to the community, and might induce others from undue attachment to office to sacrifice their integrity to improper considerations.”[70] This was good reasoning and good prophecy; but his protests fell upon ears as deaf to a wise policy as did the protests of Jay's friends when the board of canva.s.sers counted Jay out and Clinton in.
[Footnote 70: Jabez D. Hammond, _Political History of New York_, Vol.
1, p. 84.]
The action of the Council of Appointment was a stunning blow to Clinton. Under Jay's const.i.tution, every officer in city, county, and State, civil and military, save governor, lieutenant-governor, members of the Legislature, and aldermen, could now be appointed by the Council regardless of the Governor; and already these appointments mounted up into hundreds. In 1821 they numbered over fifteen thousand.
Thus, as if by magic, the Council was turned into a political machine.
Under this arrangement, a party only needed a majority of the a.s.sembly to elect a Council which made all appointments, and the control of appointments was sufficient to elect a majority of the a.s.sembly. Thus it was an endless chain the moment the Council became a political machine, and it became a political machine the moment Philip Schuyler headed the Council of 1793.
This arbitrary proceeding led to twenty years of corrupt methods and political scandals. Schuyler's justification was probably the conviction that poetic justice required that Clinton, having become governor without right, should have his powers reduced to their lowest terms; but whatever the motive, his action was indefensible, and his reply that the Governor's practices did not correspond to his precepts fell for want of proof. Clinton had then been in office seventeen years, and, although he took good care to select members of his own party, only one case, and that a doubtful one, could be cited in support of the charge that appointments had been made solely for political purposes.
In a published address, on January 22, 1795, Governor Clinton declined to stand for re-election in the following April because of ill health and neglected private affairs. Included in this letter was the somewhat apocryphal statement that he withdrew from an office never solicited, which he had accepted with diffidence, and from which he should retire with pleasure. The reader who has followed the story of his career through the campaigns of 1789 and 1792 will scarcely believe him serious in this declaration, although he undoubtedly retired with pleasure. At the time of his withdrawal, he had an attack of inflammatory rheumatism, but he was neither a sick man nor an old one, being then in his fifty-fifth year, with twelve years of honourable public life still before him. It is likely the reason in the old rhyme, ”He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day,” had more to do with his retirement than shattered health and crippled fortune. Defeat has never been regarded helpful to future political preferment, and this shrewd reader of the signs of the times, his ambition already fixed on higher honours and more exalted place, saw the coming political change in New York as clearly and unmistakably as an approaching storm announced itself in an increase of his rheumatic aches.
CHAPTER VII
RECOGNITION OF EARNEST MEN
1795-1800
With Clinton out of the race for governor in 1795, his party's weakness discovered itself in the selection of Chief Justice Robert Yates, Hamilton's coalition candidate in 1789. It was a makes.h.i.+ft nomination, since none cared to run after Clinton's declination sounded a note of defeat. Yates' pa.s.sion for office led him into strange blunders. He seemed willing to become the candidate of any party, under any conditions, at any time, if only he could step into the official shoes of George Clinton. He was excusable in 1789, perhaps, when the way opened up a fair chance of success, but in 1795 his ambition subjected him to ridicule as well as to humiliation. It was said derisively that he was defeated, although every freeholder in the State had voted for him.
The Federalists were far from unanimous in their choice of John Jay.
He had not yet returned from England, whither Was.h.i.+ngton had sent him in the preceding year to negotiate a treaty to recover, among other things, compensation for negroes who followed English troops across the Atlantic at the close of the war; to obtain a surrender of the Western military posts not yet evacuated; and to secure an article against impressments. It was believed that a storm of disapproval would greet his work, and the timid ones seriously questioned the expediency of his nomination. The submission of the treaty had already precipitated a crisis in the United States Senate, and while it might not be ratified and officially promulgated before election, grave danger existed of its clandestine publication by the press. Hamilton, however, insisted, and Jay became the nominee. ”It had been so decreed from the beginning,” wrote Egbert Benson.
The campaign that followed was featureless. Chief Justice Yates aroused no interest, and Chief Justice Jay was in England. From the outset, Jay's election was conceded; and a canva.s.s of the votes showed that he had swept the State by a large majority. In 1789 Clinton received a majority of 489; in 1792 the canva.s.sers gave him 108; but in 1795 Jay had 1589.[71]
[Footnote 71: John Jay, 13,481; Robert Yates, 11,892. _Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]
What would have happened had the treaty been published before election, fills one with interested conjecture. Its disclosure on July 2, the day after Jay's inauguration, turned the applause of that joyous occasion into the most exasperating abuse. Such a sudden and tempestuous change in the popularity of a public official is unprecedented in the history of American politics. In a night the whole State was thrown into a ferment of intense excitement, the storm of vituperation seeming to centre in New York city. Jay was burned in effigy; Hamilton was struck in the face with a stone while defending Jay's work; a copy of the treaty was burned before the house of the British Minister; riot and mob violence held carnival everywhere.
Party spirit never before, and never since, perhaps, ran so high. One effigy represented Jay as saying, while supporting a pair of scales, with the treaty on one side and a bag of gold on the other, ”Come up to my price, and I will sell you my country.” Chalked in large white letters on one of the princ.i.p.al streets in New York, appeared these words: ”d.a.m.n John Jay! d.a.m.n every one that won't d.a.m.n John Jay!! d.a.m.n every one that won't put lights in his windows and sit up all night d.a.m.ning John Jay!!!”[72] This revulsion of public sentiment was not exactly a tempest in a teapot, but it proved a storm of limited duration, the elections in the spring of 1796 showing decided legislative gains for the Federalists.
[Footnote 72: John Jay, _Second Letter on Dawson's Federalist_, N.Y., 1864, p. 19.]
Hamilton divined the cause of the trouble. ”There are three persons,”