Volume I Part 8 (1/2)

Hamilton threw himself with energy into the desperate fight. For four days, from April 29 to May 2, while the polls were open, he visited every voting precinct, appealing to the public in his wonderfully persuasive and captivating manner. On several occasions Burr and Hamilton met, and it was afterward recalled that courtesy characterised the conduct of each toward the other, one champion waiting while the other took his turn. Rarely if ever in the history of the country have two men of such ability and astuteness partic.i.p.ated in a local canva.s.s. The rivalry was all the more exciting because it was a rivalry of styles as well as of capacities. Burr was smooth, polished, concise, never diffuse or declamatory, always serious and impressive. If we may accept contemporary judgment, he was a good speaker whom everybody was curious to hear, and from whom no one turned away in disappointment. On the other hand, Hamilton was an acknowledged orator, diffuse, ornate, full of metaphor, with flashes of poetical genius, revelling in exuberant strength, and endowed with a gift of argumentative eloquence which appealed to the intellect and the feelings at the same time. Erastus Root says Hamilton's words were so well chosen, and his sentences so finely formed into a swelling current, that the hearer would be captivated if not convinced, while Burr's arguments were generally methodised and compact. To this Root added a judgment, after thirty years' experience in public life at Was.h.i.+ngton and in New York, that ”they were much the greatest men in the State, and perhaps the greatest men in the United States.”

When the polls closed the Republicans had carried the Legislature by twenty-two majority on joint ballot. This secured to them the election of the needed twelve presidential electors. To recover their loss the Federalists now clamoured for a change in the law transferring the election of presidential electors from the Legislature to districts created for that purpose. Such an amendment would give the Federalists six of the twelve electors.

This was Hamilton's plan. In an earnest plea he urged Jay to convene the Legislature in extraordinary session for this purpose. ”The anti-Federal party,” he wrote to the Governor, ”is a composition indeed of very incongruous materials, but all tending to mischief; some of them to the overthrow of the government by stripping it of its due energies; others of them by revolutionising it after the manner of Bonaparte. The government must not be confided to the custody of its enemies, and, although the measure proposed is open to objection, a popular government cannot stand if one party calls to its aid all the resources which vice can give, and the other, however pressing the emergency, feels itself obliged to confine itself within the ordinary forms of delicacy and decorum.”[91]

[Footnote 91: _Hamilton's Works_ (Lodge), Vol. 8, p. 549.]

Jay's response to Hamilton's proposal is not of record, but some time afterward the great Federalist's letter was found carefully filed among the papers in the public archives, bearing an indors.e.m.e.nt in the Governor's handwriting: ”This is a measure for party purposes which I think it would not become me to adopt.”

The sincerity of Jay's action has been doubted. He was about to retire from public life, it was said, with no political future before him, and with that courage which inspires a man under such circ.u.mstances, he declined to act. But Jay's treatment of Hamilton's suggestion stands out conspicuously as his best judgment at the most trying moment in a long and eventful life. Jay was a stalwart Federalist. He had supported Was.h.i.+ngton and Hamilton in the making of a federal const.i.tution; he had approved the alien and sedition laws; he had favourably reported to the Legislature the proposed amendments of Ma.s.sachusetts, limiting service in Congress to native-born citizens; he regarded the advent of Jefferson and his ideas with as much alarm as Hamilton, and he knew as well as Hamilton that the adoption of the district plan of choosing electors would probably defeat the Virginian; but to call an extra session of the Legislature for the purpose indicated by Hamilton, would defeat the expressed will of the people as much as the action of the state canva.s.sers defeated it in 1792. Should he follow such a precedent and save his party, perhaps his country, from the dire ills so vividly portrayed by Hamilton? The responsibility was upon him, not upon Hamilton, and he wisely refused to do what the people of the State had so generally and properly condemned in the canva.s.sers.

Hamilton's proposition naturally provoked the indignation of his opponents, and later writers have used it as a text for unlimited vituperation; but if one may judge from what happened and continued to happen during the next three decades, not a governor who followed Jay in those eventful years would have declined under similar circ.u.mstances to concur in Hamilton's suggestion. It was undoubtedly a desperate proposal, but it was squarely in line with the practice of party leaders of that day. George Clinton countenanced, if he did not absolutely advise, the deliberate disfranchis.e.m.e.nt of hundreds of voters in 1792 that he might continue governor. A few years later, in 1816, methods quite as disreputable and unscrupulous were practised, that Republicans might continue to control the Council of Appointment.

Hamilton's suggestion involved no concealment, as in the case of the Manhattan Bank, which Jay approved; no violation of law, as in the Otsego election case, which Clinton approved; no deliberate fraud, as in the Allen-Fellows case, which Tompkins approved. All this does not lessen the wrong involved in Hamilton's proposed violation of moral ethics, but it places the suggestion in the environment to which it properly belongs, making it appear no worse if no better than the political practices of that day.

CHAPTER IX

MISTAKES OF HAMILTON AND BURR

1800

The ten months following the Republican triumph in New York on May 2, 1800, were fateful ones for Hamilton and Burr. It is not easy to suggest the greater sufferer, Burr with his victory, or Hamilton with his defeat. Hamilton's bold expedients began at once; Burr's desperate schemes waited until after the election in November; but when the conflict was over, the political influence of each had ebbed like water in a bay after a tidal wave. Although Jay's refusal to reconvene the old Legislature in extra session surprised Hamilton as much as the Republican victory itself, the great Federalist did not despair. He still thought it possible to throw the election of President into the House of Representatives, and to that end he wrote his friends to give equal support to John Adams and Charles C. Pinckney, the candidates of the Federal party. ”This is the only thing,” he said, ”that can possibly save us from the fangs of Jefferson.”[92]

[Footnote 92: _Hamilton's Works_ (Lodge), Vol. 8, p. 549. Letter to Theo. Sedgwick.]

But the relations between Adams and Hamilton were now to break. For twelve years Hamilton had kept Adams angry. He began in 1789 with the inconsiderate and needless scheme of scattering the electoral votes of Federalists for second place, lest Was.h.i.+ngton fail of the highest number, and thus reduced Adams' vote to thirty-four, while Was.h.i.+ngton received sixty-nine. In 1796 he advised similar tactics, in order that Thomas Pinckney might get first place. For the past three years the President had endured the mortification of having Hamilton control his cabinet advisers. After the loss of New York, however, Adams turned elsewhere for strength, appointing John Marshall secretary of state in place of Timothy Pickering, and Samuel Dexter secretary of war in place of James McHenry. The mutual dislike of Hamilton and Adams had become so intensified that the slightest provocation on the part of either would make any form of political reconciliation impossible, and Adams' reconstruction of his Cabinet furnished this provocation. Pickering and McHenry were Hamilton's best supporters.

They had done more to help him and to embarra.s.s Adams, and their dismissal, because of the loss of New York, made Hamilton thirsty for revenge. Pickering suggested ”a bold and frank exposure of Adams,”

offering to furnish the facts if Hamilton would put them together, and agreeing to arrange with George Cabot and other ultra Federalists of New England, known as the ”Ess.e.x Junto,” to throw Adams behind Charles C. Pinckney in the electoral vote. Their plan was to start Pinckney as the second Federalist candidate, with the hope that parties would be so divided as to secure his election for President. It was nothing more than the old ”double chance” manoeuvres of 1796, when Thomas Pinckney was Hamilton's choice for President; but the iniquity of the scheme was the deception practised upon the voters who desired Adams.

Of course, Adams soon learned of the revival of this old conspiracy, and pa.s.sionately and hastily opened a raking fire upon the ”Ess.e.x Junto,” calling them a ”British faction,” with Hamilton as its chief, a designation to which the Republican press had made them peculiarly sensitive. This aroused Hamilton, who, preliminary to a quarrel, addressed the President, asking if he had mentioned the writer as one who belonged to a British faction. Receiving no reply, he again wrote the President, angrily repelling all aspersions of the kind. This the President likewise ignored.

Then Hamilton listened to Timothy Pickering. Fiery as his temper had often proved, and grotesquely obstinate as he had sometimes shown himself, Hamilton's most erratic impulse appears like the coolness of Jay when contrasted with the conduct upon which he now entered. The letter he proposed to write, ostensibly in justification of himself, was apparently intended for private circulation at some future day among Federal leaders, to whom it would furnish reasons why electors should unite in preferring Pinckney. It is known, too, that Hamilton's coolest and ablest advisers opposed such a letter, recalling the congressional caucus agreement, which he had himself advised, to vote fairly for both Adams and Pinckney. Besides, to impair confidence in Adams just at that moment, it was argued, would impair confidence in the Federal party, while at best such a letter could only produce confusion without compensatory results. But between Adams and Jefferson, Hamilton now preferred the latter. ”I will never be responsible for him by my direct vote,” he wrote in May, 1800, ”even though the consequence be the election of Jefferson.”[93] Moreover, Hamilton was accustomed to give, not to receive orders. Had Was.h.i.+ngton lived, Hamilton would doubtless never have written the letter, but now he wrote it, printed it, and in a few days was forced to publish it, since garbled extracts began appearing in the press. Many theories have been advanced as to how it fell into the hands of a public printer, some fanciful, others ridiculous, and none, perhaps, absolutely truthful. The story that Burr unwittingly coaxed a printer's errand boy to give him a copy, is not corroborated by Matthew L. Davis; but, however the publication happened, it was not intended to happen in that way and at that time.

[Footnote 93: _Hamilton's Works_ (Lodge), Vol. 8, p. 552.]

It was an ugly letter, not up to Hamilton's best work. The vindication of himself and the Pinckneys lost itself in the severity of the attack upon Adams, whose career was reviewed from the distant day of an unsound judgment ventured in military affairs during the Revolution, to the latest display of a consuming egotism, vanity, and jealousy as President. In a word, all the quarrels, resentments, and antagonisms which had torn and rent the Federal party for four years, but which, thanks to Was.h.i.+ngton, had not become generally known, were now, in a moment, officially exposed to the whole country, to the great astonishment of most Federalists, and to the great delight of all Republicans. ”If the single purpose had been to defeat the President,”

said John Adams, ”no more propitious moment could have been chosen.”

Fisher Ames declared that ”the question is not how we shall fight, but how we shall fall.” In vain did Hamilton journey through New England, struggling to gain votes for Pinckney; in vain did the ”Ess.e.x Junto”

deplore the appearance of a doc.u.ment certain to do their Jacobin opponents great service. The party, already practically defeated by its alien and sedition legislation, and now inflamed with angry feelings, hastened on to the inevitable catastrophe like a boat sucked into the rus.h.i.+ng waters of Niagara, while the party of Jefferson, united in principle, and encouraged by the divisions of their adversaries, marched on to easy victory. When the result was known, Jefferson and Burr had each seventy-three electoral votes, Adams sixty-five, Pinckney sixty-four, and Jay one.

It is difficult to realise the arguments which persuaded Hamilton to follow the suggestion of the fallen minister. Hot-tempered and impatient of restraint as he was, he knew Adams' attack had only paid him in kind. Nor is mitigation of Hamilton's conduct found in the statement, probably true, that the party could not in any case have carried the election. The great ma.s.s of Federalists believed, as Hamilton wrote Jay when asking an extra session of the Legislature, that the defeat of Jefferson was ”the only means to save the nation from more disasters,” and they naturally looked to him to accomplish that defeat. Of all men that ever led a political party, therefore, it was Hamilton's duty to sink personal antipathy, but in this attack upon Adams he seems deliberately to have sinned against the light.

This was the judgment of men of his own day, and at the end of a century it is the judgment of men who cherish his teachings and revere his memory.

While Hamilton wrote and worried and wrestled, Aaron Burr rested on the well-earned laurels of victory. It had been a great fight. George Clinton did not take kindly to Thomas Jefferson, and stubbornly resisted allowing the use of his name to aid the Virginian's promotion; Horatio Gates and other prominent citizens who had left the political arena years before, if they could be said ever to have entered it, were also indisposed to head a movement that seemed to them certain to end in rout and confusion; but Burr held on until scruples disappeared, and their names headed a winning ticket. It was the first ray of light to break the Republican gloom, and when, six months later, the Empire State declared for Jefferson and Burr it added to the halo already surrounding the grandson of Jonathan Edwards.

It was known that Jefferson and Burr had run very evenly, and by the middle of December, 1800, it became rumoured that their vote was a tie. ”If such should be the result,” Burr wrote Samuel Smith, a Republican congressman from Maryland, ”every man who knows me ought to know that I would utterly disclaim all compet.i.tion. Be a.s.sured that the Federalist party can entertain no wish for such an exchange. As to my friends, they would dishonour my views and insult my feelings by a suspicion that I would submit to be instrumental in counteracting the wishes and the expectations of the people of the United States. And I now const.i.tute you my proxy to declare these sentiments if the occasion should require.”[94] At the time this letter was much applauded at public dinners and other Republican gatherings as proof of Burr's respect for the will of the people.

[Footnote 94: James Parton, _Life of Aaron Burr_, 267.]