A Political History of the State of New York, Volumes 1-3

Chapter 26

Chapter 263,318 wordsPublic domain

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 friendship 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 assistance in promoting the construction of the canal, 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 Massachusetts in 1870, the great war governor of the Civil War. His well-doing in the critical days of the contest had passed into history, making his accomplishment a matter of pride to the State, and giving him an assured 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 indorsement, 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 participated 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 friendship; 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.

The comptroller, overwhelmed by the extravagance of the claim, construed the law to limit the premium on moneys borrowed solely on Tompkins' personal responsibility, and out of this a correspondence was conducted with much asperity. Archibald McIntyre, the comptroller since 1806, possessed the absolute confidence of the people; and when his letters became public a suspicion that the Vice President might be wrong was quickly encouraged by the friends of Clinton. This suspicion was increased as soon as the Legislature of 1820 got to work. It was intent on mischief. By a fusion of Clintonians and Federalists John C. Spencer became speaker of the Assembly, and to cripple Tompkins, who had now been nominated for governor, Jedediah Miller of Schoharie offered a resolution approving the conduct of the Comptroller in settling the accounts of the former Governor. This precipitated a discussion which has rarely been equalled in Albany for passion and brilliancy. A coterie of the most skilful debaters happened to be members of this Assembly; and for several weeks Thomas J. Oakley, John C. Spencer, and Elisha Williams sustained the Comptroller, while Erastus Root, Peter Sharpe, and others pleaded for Tompkins.

Meanwhile, on the 9th of March, a Senate committee, with Van Buren as chairman, reported that the Comptroller ought to have allowed Tompkins a premium of twelve and a half per cent. on $1,000,000, leaving a balance due the Vice President of $11,870.50. It was a strange mix-up, and the more committees examined it the worse appeared the muddle. After Van Buren had reported, the question arose, should the Comptroller be sustained, or should the report of Van Buren's committee be accepted? It was a long drop from $130,000 claimed by Tompkins to $11,780.50 awarded him by Van Buren, yet it was better to take that than accept a settlement which made him a defaulter, and the Senate approved the Van Buren report. But Thomas J. Oakley, chairman of the Assembly committee to which it was referred, did not propose to let the candidate for governor escape so easily. In an able review of the whole question he sustained the Comptroller, maintaining that the Vice President must seek relief under the law like other parties, and instructing the Comptroller to sue for any balance due the State, unless Tompkins reimbursed it by the following August. This ended legislation for the session.

Van Buren seems to have had no concern about Tompkins' canal record. Possibly he thought the disappearance of Bucktail opposition took that issue out of the campaign; but he was greatly worked up over the unsettled accounts, and in his usual adroit manner set influences to work to discourage Tompkins' acceptance of the nomination, and to secure the consent of Smith Thompson, then secretary of the navy, to make the race himself. He had little difficulty in accomplishing this end, for Thompson was not at all unwilling. But to get rid of Tompkins was another question. "The Republican party in this State never was better united," he wrote Smith Thompson, on January 19, 1820, three days after Tompkins' nomination; "they all love, honour and esteem the Vice President; but such is their extreme anxiety to insure the prostration of the Junto, who have stolen into the seats of power, that they all desire that you should be the candidate. They will support Tompkins to the bat's end if you refuse, or he should not decline; but if he does, and you consent to our wishes, you will be hailed as the saviour of New York."[198] On the same day Van Buren also wrote Rufus King: "Some of our friends think it is dangerous to support the Vice President under existing circumstances.... A few of us have written him freely on the subject and to meet the event of his having left the city of Washington, I have sent a copy of our letter to Secretary Thompson, of which circumstance the Secretary is not informed. There are many points of view in which it would be desirable to place this subject before you, but I am fully satisfied you will appreciate without further explanation. I will, therefore, only say, that if the Vice President is with you, and upon a free discussion between you, the Secretary and himself, he should resolve to decline, and you can induce the Secretary to consent to our using his name, you will do a lasting benefit to the Republican interest of this State."[199]

[Footnote 198: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 254.]

[Footnote 199: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 252.]

To this most adroit and cunning letter Rufus King replied on the last day of the month: "The Vice President left us to-day at noon; on his way he stopped at the Senate and we had a short conference.... I observed as between him and Mr. Clinton my apprehension was that a majority, possibly a large majority of Federalists would vote for Mr. Clinton; adding that between the Secretary of the Navy and Mr. Clinton I was persuaded that a majority of the Federalists would prefer the Secretary.... Apologising for the frankness with which I expressed my opinion, I added that I hoped he would wait until he reached New York before he decided; perhaps he would think it best to delay his answer until he arrived in Albany; one thing I considered absolutely necessary--that his accounts should be definitely closed before election. He answered that he was going immediately to Albany with four propositions which would lead to a final settlement; that he might think it best to delay his answer to the nomination until he should reach Albany. I said in conclusion that my earnest wish was the exclusion of Mr. Clinton, and my preference (knowing the personal sacrifice he would make in consenting to his own nomination) that the candidate selected should be the man who, in the opinion of those most capable to decide, will be the most likely to accomplish the work."[200]

[Footnote 200: _Ibid._, Vol. 6, p. 263.]

Rufus King certainly did his work well. He had abundantly discouraged him as to the Federalists and had fully advised him as to the importance of settling his accounts; but all to no purpose. Two days later Thompson wrote Van Buren that the Vice President "will stand." The Kinderhook statesman, however, disinclined to give it up, asked the Secretary in a note on the same day for authority to use his name "if the Vice President, when he arrives here, should wish to decline." On the 7th of February, John A. King wrote his father: "Hopes are still entertained that the Vice President's decision may yet yield to the wishes of many of his oldest friends. Those, however, who know him best have no such hopes. Judge Yates has said that he never refused an offer of any sort in his life."[201] And so it proved in this instance. Tompkins was immovable. Like a race horse trained to running, he only needed to be let into the ring and given a free rein. When the bell sounded he was off on his fifth race for governor.

[Footnote 201: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 267.]

If Tompkins was handicapped with a shortage and a canal record, Clinton was harassed for want of a party. To conceal the meagreness of his strength in a legislative caucus, Clinton was renominated with John Taylor at a meeting of the citizens of Albany. He had a following and a large one, but it was without cohesion or discipline. Men felt at liberty to withdraw without explanation and without notice. Within eight months after his election as a Clintonian senator, Benjamin Mooers of Plattsburg accepted the nomination for lieutenant-governor on the ticket with Governor Tompkins, apparently without loss of political prestige, or the respect of neighbours. The administration at Washington recognised the Bucktails as the regular Republican party, and showered offices among them, until Clinton later made it a matter of public complaint and official investigation. Other disintegrating influences were also at work. The "high minded" Federalists, in a published document signed by forty or fifty leading men, declared the Federal party dissolved and annihilated, and pronounced the Clinton party simply a personal one. To belong to it independence must be surrendered, and to obtain office in it, one must laud its head and bow the knee, a system of sycophancy, they said, disgusting all "high minded" men. But DeWitt Clinton's strength was not in parties nor in political management. He belonged to the great men of his time, having no superior in New York, and, in some respects, no equal in the country. He possessed a broader horizon, a larger intellect, a greater moral courage, than most of his contemporaries. It is probably true that, like a mountain, he appeared best at a distance, but having confidence in his ability and integrity, people easily overlooked his rough, unpopular manners. The shrewd, sagacious Yankee farmers who were filling up the great western counties of Ontario and Genesee believed in him. The Bucktails did not know, until the eastern and western districts responded with five thousand eight hundred and four majority for Clinton, as against four thousand three hundred and seventy-seven for Tompkins in the middle and southern districts, what a capital cry Clinton had in the canal issue; what a powerful appeal to selfish interests he could put into voice; and what a loud reply selfish interests would make to the appeal. It was not, in fact, a race between parties at all; it was not a question of shortage or settlement. It is likely the shortage affected the result somewhat; but the majority of over fourteen hundred meant approval of Clinton and his canal policy rather than distrust of Tompkins and his unsettled accounts. The question in 1820 was, shall the canal be built? and, although the Bucktails had ceased their hostility, the people most interested in the canal's construction wanted Clinton to complete what he had so gloriously and successfully begun.

The campaign was fought out with bitterness and desperation until the polls closed. No national or state issue divided the parties. In fact, there were no issues. It was simply a question whether Clinton and his friends, or Tompkins and the Bucktails should control the state government. The arguments, therefore, were purely personal. Clinton's friends relied upon his canal policy, his honesty, and his integrity--the Bucktails insisted that Clinton was no longer a Republican; that the canal would be constructed as well without him as with him, and that his defeat would wipe out factional strife and give New York greater prominence in the councils of the party. "For the last ten days," wrote Van Buren to Rufus King, on April 13, "I have scarcely had time to take my regular meals and am at this moment pressed by at least half a dozen unfinished concerns growing out of this intolerable political struggle in which we are involved."[202] Nevertheless, he had no doubt of Tompkins' election. "I entertain the strongest convictions that we shall succeed,"[203] he wrote later in the month. On the other hand, Clinton was no less certain. In his letters to Henry Post he is always confident; but at no time more so than now. "The canal proceeds wondrously well," he says. "The Martling opposition has ruined them forever. The public mind was never in a better train for useful operations. John Townsend has just come from the west. There is but one sentiment."[204] Yet, when the battle ended, it looked like a Clintonian defeat and Bucktail victory; for the latter had swept the Legislature, adding to their control in the Senate and capturing the Assembly by a majority of eighteen over all. It was only the presence of Tompkins among the slain that transferred the real glory to Clinton, whose majority was fourteen hundred and fifty-seven in a total vote of ninety-three thousand four hundred and thirty-seven. This exceeded any former aggregate by nearly ten thousand.[205]

[Footnote 202: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 331.]

[Footnote 203: _Ibid._, Vol. 6, p. 332.]

[Footnote 204: DeWitt Clinton to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 413.]

[Footnote 205: DeWitt Clinton, 47,444; Daniel D. Tompkins, 45,990.--_Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]

Daniel D. Tompkins took his defeat much to heart. He believed his unsettled accounts had occasioned whispered slanders that crushed him. After his angry controversy with Comptroller McIntyre, in the preceding year, he seriously considered the propriety of resigning as Vice President; for he sincerely believed his figures were right and that the Comptroller's language had classed him in the public mind with what, in these latter days, would be called "grafters." "Our friend on Staten Island is unfortunately sick in body and mind," Clinton wrote to Post in September, 1819. "His situation upon the whole is deplorable and calculated to excite sympathy."[206] It was, indeed, a most unfortunate affair, for the State discovered, years after it was too late, that it did owe the War Governor ninety-two thousand dollars.

[Footnote 206: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 413.]

Tompkins' public life continued four years longer. In the autumn of 1820, the Legislature balanced his accounts and the country re-elected him Vice President. The next year his party made him a delegate to the constitutional convention, and the convention made him its president; but he never recovered from the chagrin and mortification of his defeat for the governorship. Soon after the election, melancholy accounts appeared of the havoc wrought upon a frame once so full of animal spirits. He began to drink too freely even for those days of deep drink. His eye lost its lustre; deep lines furrowed the round, sunny face; the unruffled temper became irritable; and, within three months after the close of his second term as Vice President, before he had entered his fifty-second year, he was dead.