Volume I Part 19 (1/2)

[Footnote 193: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 417.]

The Bucktails had no serious expectation either of nominating or electing Samuel Young to the United States Senate. They knew the Clintonians had a majority, and their purpose, in attending the caucus, was simply to prevent a nomination. No sooner had the meeting a.s.sembled, therefore, than several Bucktails attacked the Governor, reproaching him for the conduct of his followers and severely criticising his political methods and character. To this German retorted with great bitterness. German made no pretensions to the gift of oratory; he had neither grace of manner nor alluring forms of expression. On the contrary, there was a certain quality of antagonism in his manner, as if he took grim satisfaction in letting fly his words, seemingly almost coldly indifferent to their effect; and on this occasion his sledge-hammer blows gave Peter R. Livingston, evidently acting by prearrangement, abundant chance for forcing a quarrel. In the confusion that followed, the caucus hastily adjourned amid mutual recriminations. When too late to mend matters the Clintonians discovered the trick. They had the majority and could easily have named Spencer as the candidate of the party, but in the excitement of German's speech and Livingston's attack they lost their heads. Thus ended forever all caucus relations.h.i.+p between these warring factions, and henceforth they were known as two distinct parties.

At the joint session of the Legislature, on February 2, 1819, the Clintonians gave Spencer sixty-four votes, while Young received fifty-seven, and Rufus King thirty-four. ”A motion then prevailed to adjourn,” wrote John A. King to his father, ”so that this Legislature will make no choice.” Young King, a member of the a.s.sembly, was looking after his father's re-election to the Senate. He deeply resented Clinton's control of the Federalists, because it made his father a leader only in name; and to show his dislike of Federalist methods he a.s.sociated and voted with the Bucktails. Nor did the father dislike Clinton less than the son. Rufus King had felt, what he was pleased to call ”the baleful influence of the Clintons,” ever since his advent into New York politics. They had opposed the Federal Const.i.tution which he, as a delegate from Ma.s.sachusetts, helped to frame; they a.s.sisted Jefferson in overwhelming Hamilton; and they benefited by the election trick which defeated John Jay. For more than two decades, therefore, Rufus King had watched their control by methods, which a man cast in a mould that would make no concessions to his virtue, could not approve. Under his observation, DeWitt Clinton had grown from young manhood, ambitious and domineering, accustomed to destroy the friend who got in his way with as much ease, apparently, as he smote an enemy. Hence King regarded him much as Hamilton did Aaron Burr; and against his candidacy for President in 1812, he used the argument that the great Federalist had hurled against the intriguing New Yorker in 1801. He rejoiced that Clinton lost the mayoralty in 1815; that he was defeated for elector in 1816; and he deeply regretted his election as governor in 1817.

On his part, Clinton had little use for Rufus King; but his need of Federalist votes made him excessively cautious about appearing to oppose the distinguished Senator; although a deep-laid scheme, understood if not engineered by Clinton, existed to defeat him. John King a.s.sured his father that Clinton, inviting Joseph Yates to breakfast, urged him to become a candidate; and that William W. Van Ness had asked Chancellor Kent to enter the race. ”I entertain not the slightest doubt,” he continued, referring to Van Ness, ”of being able to produce such testimony of his hypocrisy and infidelity as will require more art than ever he is master of to explain or escape from.”[194]

[Footnote 194: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 251.]

As the time approached for the rea.s.sembling of the Legislature, in January, 1820, these machinations of Clinton caused his opponents many an uneasy hour. The Bucktails, who could not elect a senator of their own, would not take a Clintonian, and an alliance between Clinton and the Federalists, led by Van Ness, Oakley, and Jacob R. Van Rensselaer, threatened to settle the question against them. Van Buren favoured King, although the Administration at Was.h.i.+ngton thought his election impolitic, because of its effect upon the party in the State; but Van Buren showed great firmness. His party was violently opposed to King.

Van Buren, too, was growing tired of the strain of maintaining the leaders.h.i.+p of one faction without disrupting the other. But so sure was he of the wisdom of King's support that he insisted upon it, even though it sacrificed his leaders.h.i.+p. ”We are committed to his support,” he wrote. ”It is both wise and honest. Mr. King's views toward us are honourable and correct. I will put my head on its propriety.”[195]

[Footnote 195: Edward M. Shepard, _Life of Van Buren_, p. 71.]

Van Buren wanted to share in the division of the Federalists; and to refuse them a United States senator, when Clinton had recently given them an attorney-general, an influential, and, at that time, a most lucrative office, struck him as poor policy--especially since John A.

King and other estimable gentlemen had evidenced a disposition to join them. Two weeks before the Legislature a.s.sembled, therefore, an unsigned letter, skilfully drawn, found its way into the hands of every Bucktail, summing up the reasons why they could properly support Rufus King. After recalling his Revolutionary services, this anonymous writer declared that support of King could not subject Bucktails to the suspicion of a political bargain, since the Senator had neither acted with the Federalists who had shown malignity against the Administration, nor with that numerous and respectable portion who ignorantly thought the war impolitic; but rather with those who aided in forcing England to respect the rights of American citizens. It was a cunning letter. There was rough and rasping sarcasm for the Clintonians; an ugly disregard for the radical Federalist; a kind word for the mere party follower, and winning speech for the gifted sons who had risen superior to inherited prejudices. The concluding declaration to the Bucktails was that King merited support because he and his friends opposed Governor Clinton's re-election, the a.s.sertion being justified by reference to John King's vote against German and the Clinton Council.

Of the authors.h.i.+p of this remarkable paper, there could be no doubt.

William L. Marcy had aided in its preparation; but the hand of Van Buren had shaped its character and inspired its winning qualities. It had the instant effect that Van Buren plainly invoked for it--the unanimous election of Rufus King. Perhaps, on the whole, nothing in Van Buren's official life showed greater political courage or discernment. It is not so famous as his Sherrod Williams letter of 1836, or the celebrated Texas letter with which he faced the crisis of 1844, but it ranks with the public utterances of those years when he took the risk of meeting living issues that divided men on small margins. There was a strength and character about it that seemed to leave men powerless to answer. Clintonians objected to King, many Bucktails opposed him, Van Ness declared that he could easily be defeated, Thomas J. Oakley recognised him as the candidate of a man who spoke of Clinton and his Federalist allies as profligates and political blacklegs. Yet they all voted for Rufus King. Van Buren made up their minds for them; and, though protesting against the duplicity of Bucktail, the cowardliness of Federalist, and the timidity of Clintonian, each party indorsed him, while proclaiming him not its choice.

But Rufus King was not an ordinary candidate. His great experience and exalted character, coupled with his discriminating devotion to the best interests of the country, yielded strength that no other man in the State could command. He was now about sixty years of age, and, of living statesmen, he had no superior. His life had been a pure one, and his public acts and purposes, measured by the virtues of patriotism, honesty and integrity, ent.i.tled him to the respect and lasting grat.i.tude of his fellow citizens. The taste for letters which characterised his Harvard College days, followed him into public affairs, and if his style lacked the simplicity of Madison's and the prophetic grasp and instinctive knowledge of Hamilton, he shared their clearness of statement and breadth of view. He displayed similar capacity in administration and in keeping abreast of the times.

Although a lifelong member of the Federal party, whose leaders.h.i.+p in New York he inherited upon the death of its great founder, he supported the War of 1812 with zeal, giving no countenance to the Hartford Convention if he did not openly oppose it, and promising nothing in the way of aid that he did not amply and promptly fulfil.

At the supreme moment of the crisis, in 1814, when the general government needed money and the banks would loan only upon the indors.e.m.e.nt of the Governor, he pledged his honour to support Tompkins in whatever he did.

To the society of contemporaries, regardless of party, King was always welcome. He disliked a quarrel. It seemed to be his effort to avoid controversy; and when compelled to lead, or to partic.i.p.ate conspicuously in heated debate, he carefully abstained from giving offence. Benton bears testimony to his habitual observance of the courtesies of life. Indeed, his urbanity made a deep impression upon all his colleagues. Yet King was not a popular man. The people thought him an aristocrat; and, although without arrogance, his appearance and manner gave character to their opinion. His countenance inclined to austerity, forbidding easy approach; his indisposition to talk lent an air of reserve, with the suggestion of coldness, which was unrelieved by the touch of amiability that commended John Jay to the affectionate regard of men. It was his nature to be serious and thoughtful. Among friends he talked freely, often facetiously, becoming, at times, peculiarly instructive and fascinating, as his remarkable memory gave up with accuracy and facility the product of extensive travel, varied experiences, close observation, and much reading. His statements, especially those relating to historical and political details, were rarely questioned. We read that he was of somewhat portly habit, above the middle size, strongly made, with the warm complexion of good health, large, attractive eyes, and a firm, full mouth; that, although men no longer chose to be divided sharply by marked distinction of attire, he always appeared in the United States Senate in full dress, with short clothes, silk stockings and shoes--having something of pride and hauteur in his manner that was slightly offensive to plain country gentlemen, as well as inconsistent with the republican idea of equality. Wealthy, he lived at Jamaica, in a stately mansion, surrounded by n.o.ble horse chestnut trees, an estate known as King Park, and kept at public expense as a typical Long Island colonial homestead.

It is possible that the extension of slavery into Missouri influenced King's return to the United States Senate; for the election occurred in the midst of that heated contest, a contest in which he had already taken a conspicuous part in the Fifteenth Congress, and in which he was destined to earn, in still greater degree, the commendation of friends, outside and inside the Senate, as the champion of freedom. But whatever the cause of his election, it is certain that it was free from suspicion, other than that he preferred Van Buren to Clinton--a choice which necessarily created the impression that King's prejudice against Clinton resulted more from jealousy than from aversion to his character. No doubt Clinton's ability to dominate Federalist support, in spite of King's opposition, wounded the latter's pride and created a dislike which gradually deepened into a feeling of resentment. It had practically left him without a party; and he turned to Van Buren very much as Charles James Fox turned to Lord North in 1782. He cheerfully accepted the most confidential relations with the Kinderhook statesman, and when, a year or two later, Van Buren joined him in the United States Senate, Benton observed the deferential regard paid by Van Buren to his venerable colleague, and the marked kindness and respect returned by King. Yet King did not openly ally himself with the Bucktails. They could rely with certainty upon his support to antagonise Clinton, but he declined to join a party whose character and principles did not promise such companions.h.i.+p as he had been accustomed to.

CHAPTER XXV

TOMPKINS' LAST CONTEST

1820

The coming of 1820 was welcomed by the Van Buren forces. It was the year for the selection of another governor, and the Bucktails, very weary of Clinton, were anxious for a change. For all practical purposes Bucktails and Clintonians had now become two opposing parties, Van Buren's removal as attorney-general, by the Council of 1819, ending all semblance of friends.h.i.+p and political affiliation.

This Council was known as ”Clinton's Council;” and, profiting by the lesson learned in 1817, Clinton had made a clean sweep of the men he believed to have acted against him. He gave Van Buren's place to Thomas J. Oakley, and Peter A. Jay, eldest son of John Jay, who had rendered valuable a.s.sistance in promoting the construction of the ca.n.a.l, he made recorder of New York City, an office which Richard Riker had held since 1815. These appointments naturally subjected the Governor to the criticism of removing Republicans to make places for Federalists. But the new officers were Clinton's friends, while Riker, at least, had been an open enemy since Jonas Platt's appointment to the Supreme bench in 1814. Jay's appointment was also a thrust at the so-called ”high-minded” Federalists, composed of the sons of Alexander Hamilton, Rufus King, and other well known men of the party.

Clinton's intimates had long known his desire to get rid of Van Buren.

In his letters to Henry Post, the Kinderhook statesman is termed ”an arch scoundrel,” ”the prince of villains,” and ”a confirmed knave;”[196] yet Clinton put off the moment of his removal from week to week, very much as Tompkins hesitated to remove Clinton from the mayoralty; that is, not so much to save the feelings of Van Buren as to avert the hostility of James Tallmadge and John C. Spencer, both of whom sought the office. Tallmadge had recently returned from Congress full of honours because of his brilliant part in the great debate on the Missouri Compromise, and he now confidently expected the appointment. The moment, therefore, the Council, at its meeting in July, 1819, named Oakley, Tallmadge ranged himself squarely among Clinton's enemies. Van Buren had expected dismissal, and he seems to have taken it with the outward serenity and dignity that characterised the departure of Clinton from the mayoralty in 1815; but in confidential communications to Rufus King, he spoke of Clinton and his friends as ”very profligate men,” ”politician blacklegs,” and ”a set of desperadoes.”[197]

[Footnote 196: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 412-7, 563-71.]

[Footnote 197: Martin Van Buren to Rufus King, January 19, 1820; Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p.

252.]

In the Bucktail mind, Daniel D. Tompkins seemed the only man sufficiently popular to oppose DeWitt Clinton in the gubernatorial contest. He was remembered as the great War Governor; and the up-state leaders, representing the old war party, thought he could rally and unite the opposing factions better than any one else. In some respects Tompkins' position in 1820 was not unlike that of John A. Andrew in Ma.s.sachusetts in 1870, the great war governor of the Civil War. His well-doing in the critical days of the contest had pa.s.sed into history, making his accomplishment a matter of pride to the State, and giving him an a.s.sured standing. Everybody knew that he had raised troops after enlistments had practically stopped elsewhere; that he had bought army supplies, equipped regiments, constructed fortifications, manned forts, fitted out privateers, paid bills from funds raised on his individual indors.e.m.e.nt, and worked with energy while New England sulked. When the grotesque treaty of Ghent closed the war, the Governor's star shone brightly in the zenith. At this time, therefore, Daniel D. Tompkins was undoubtedly the most popular man personally that ever partic.i.p.ated in New York politics. Hammond, the historian, relates that a father, desiring the pardon of his son, left the capital better pleased with Governor Tompkins, who refused it, than with Governor Clinton, who granted it. It is not easy to say just wherein lay the charm of his wonderful personality. His voice was rich and mellow; his face, prepossessing in repose, expressed sympathy and friends.h.i.+p; while his manner, gentle and gracious without unnaturalness, appealed to his auditor as if he of all men, was the one whom the Governor wished to honour. His success, too, had been marvellous. He had carried the State by the largest majority ever given to a governor up to that time; larger than Jay's triumphant majority in 1798; larger than George Clinton's in 1801 after the election of Jefferson and the organisation of the Republican party; larger even than the surprising vote given Morgan Lewis in 1804, when Alexander Hamilton and the Clintons combined against Aaron Burr.

Tompkins' nomination for governor, therefore, was made on January 16, 1820, without the slightest opposition.

It was known, at this time, that Tompkins' accounts as governor showed a shortage. He had failed to take vouchers during the war, and it was thought not unlikely that he had paid for army supplies out of his own money, and for family supplies out of the State's money; but no one believed him guilty of intentional misconduct. Nevertheless, his accounts, after the comptroller had audited them, after a commission of expert accountants had sought for missing vouchers, and after friends had made explanations, were still $120,000 short. By an act, approved April 13, 1819, the Legislature authorised the comptroller to balance this shortage by allowing Tompkins a premium of twelve per cent. on $1,000,000, and people thought nothing more about it until Tompkins presented an account, demanding a premium of twenty-five per cent., which brought the State in debt to him in the sum of $130,000.