Chapter 6

CLINTON'S FOURTH TERM

1789-1792

At each triennial election for twelve years, ever since the adoption of the State Constitution in 1777, George Clinton had been chosen governor. No one else, in fact, had ever been seriously talked of, save John Jay in 1786. Doubtless Clinton derived some advantage from the control of appointments, which multiplied in number and increased in influence as term succeeded term, but his popularity drew its inspiration from sources other than patronage. A strong, rugged character, and a generous, sympathetic nature, sunk their roots deeply into the hearts of a liberty-loving people who supported their favourite with the fidelity of personal friendship.

The time had, however, come at last when Clinton's right to continue as governor was to be contested. Hamilton's encounter with the New York opponents of the Federal Constitution had been vigorous and acrimonious. It was easy to stand with one's State in opposing the Constitution when opposition had behind it the powerful Clinton interest and the persuasive Clinton argument that federal union meant the substitution of experiment for experience, and the exchange of a superior for an inferior position; but it required a splendid stubbornness to face, daringly and aggressively, the desperate odds arrayed against the Constitution. Every man who wanted to curry favour with Clinton was ready to strike at Hamilton, and they covered him with obloquy. Very likely his attitude was not one to tempt the forbearance of angry opponents. He did not fight with gloves. Nevertheless, his success added one more to his list of splendid victories. He had beaten Clinton in his intolerant treatment of loyalists; he had beaten him in obtaining for Congress the sole power of regulating commerce; he had beaten him in the Philadelphia convention called to frame a federal constitution; he had beaten him in a state convention called to ratify that constitution; and now he proposed to beat him for governor in a State which would have great influence in smoothing the way for the new federal government.

After the close of the Revolution, there had been local parties in the various Stales, divided on issues of hard and soft money, on imposts, on treatment of Tories, and on state rights, and these issues had coincided in many of the States. During the contest growing out of the adoption of the Federal Constitution, all these elements became segregated into two great political parties, those who supported the Constitution being known as Federalists--those who were opposed to strengthening the bond between the States being called anti-Federalists. The latter were clearly in the majority in New York, and Hamilton rightly inferred that, notwithstanding the people, since the adoption of the Constitution, manifested a disposition to sustain the general government, a large majority of freeholders, having heretofore supported Clinton as a wise, patriotic governor, would not now desert him for an out-and-out Federalist. To meet this emergency, several Federalists, at a meeting held February 11, 1789, nominated Robert Yates, an anti-Federalist judge of the Supreme Court, hoping thus to form a coalition with the more moderate men of his party.

In support of such politics, of the doubtful wisdom of which there was abundant illustration in the recent unnatural coalition between Lord North and the brilliant Charles James Fox, Hamilton wrote to his friends in Albany that in settling upon a candidate, some difficulties occurred. "Our fellow citizens in some parts of the State," he said, "had proposed Judge Yates, others had been advocates of Lieutenant-Governor Van Cortlandt, and others for Chief Justice Morris. It is well known that the inhabitants of this city are, with few exceptions, strongly attached to the new Constitution. It is also well known that the Lieutenant-Governor and Chief Justice, whom we respect and esteem, were zealous advocates for the same cause. Had it been agreed to support either of them for governor, there would have been reason to fear that the measure would have been imputed to party, and not to a desire of relieving our country from the evils they experience from the heats of party. It appeared, therefore, most advisable to elect some man of the opposite party, in whose integrity, patriotism, and temper, confidence might be placed, however little his political opinions on the question lately agitated might be approved by those who were assembled upon that occasion.

"Among the persons of this description, there were circumstances which led to a decision in favour of Judge Yates. It is certain that as a man and a judge he is generally esteemed. And, though his opposition to the new Constitution was such as his friends cannot but disapprove, yet, since the period of its adoption, his conduct has been tempered with a degree of moderation, and seems to point him out as a man likely to compose the differences of the State. Of this at least we feel confident, that he has no personal revenge to gratify, no opponents to oppress, no partisans to provide for, nor any promises for personal purposes to be performed at the public expense."[50]

[Footnote 50: _Hamilton's Works_ (Lodge), Vol. 1, p. 509.]

To many the selection of Robert Yates seemed almost ungracious. The Federalists wanted Richard Morris, chief justice of the Supreme Court, who had encouraged the establishment of a strong government, and, as a member of the Poughkeepsie convention, had voted to ratify the Federal Constitution. Besides, he was a gentleman of the old school, of inflexible integrity, firm and decided in character, whose full, rounded face and commanding presence appeared to advantage among the stately and dignified personages who supported knee breeches and silk stockings, and displayed the delicate ruffles of a shirt under the folds of a rich velvet coat. Hamilton was fond of Morris, and recognised the justice of his claims. Their views in no wise differed, their families were intimate, and at the Poughkeepsie convention, after listening for three hours to Hamilton's speech, Morris had pronounced it the ablest argument and most patriotic address ever heard in the State of New York. But the great Federalist, determined to destroy Clinton, wanted availability, not fidelity, and so Morris declined in favour of Yates.

In everything Robert Yates was an anti-Federalist. He dressed like one and he talked like one. He had been an opponent of the Federal Constitution, an advocate of the doctrine of state supremacy, and an ardent supporter of the Governor. With Clinton's approval he had withdrawn from the Philadelphia convention when the majority favoured a strong government wielding supreme authority; with Clinton's approval, he had opposed the ratification of the Federal Constitution in the state convention at Poughkeepsie, and with Clinton's approval he declined to change his vote, although New Hampshire's action and Hamilton's speech had already settled the question of ratification. What Hamilton proposed, Yates opposed; what Clinton advocated, Yates approved. After the ratification of the Constitution, however, Robert Yates charged the grand jury that it would be little short of treason against the Republic to disobey it. "Let me exhort you, gentlemen," he said, "not only in your capacity as grand jurors, but in your more durable and equally respectable character as citizens, to preserve inviolate this charter of our national rights and safety, a charter second only in dignity and importance to the Declaration of our Independence."

Upon the bench Yates distinguished himself for impartiality and independence, if not for learning. He abated the intemperate zeal of patriotic juries, and he refused to convict men suspected of disloyalty, without proof. On one occasion he sent a jury back four times to reconsider a verdict of guilty unauthorised by the evidence, and subsequently treated with indifference a legislative threat of impeachment, based upon a fearless discharge of duty. He could afford to be just, for, like George Clinton, he had early embraced the cause of the Colony against the Crown. From an Albany alderman he became a maker of the State Constitution, and from a writer of patriotic essays, he shone as an active member of the Committee of Safety. Together with John Jay and Robert R. Livingston, he had obstructed the passage of Lord Howe's ships up the Hudson, and with General Schuyler he devised measures to repel the British from the northern and western frontier. He had helped to fix the dividing line between Massachusetts and New York, and, as one of the Council of Administration, he governed southern New York from the withdrawal of the British until the assembling of the Legislature.

Having decided to go outside his own party, Hamilton made no mistake in picking his man. If Clinton was the Hampden of the colonial period, Robert Yates could well be called its Pym. He had toleration as well as patriotism. But he also had an itching desire for office. Some one has said that the close connection between man and a child is never more clearly illustrated than in the joy and pride which the wisest statesman feels in the wearing of a ribbon or a star. It could not be said of Robert Yates then, as it was said, with good reason, six years later, that his desire for office extinguished his devotion to party and his character for political consistency, but it was openly charged that, upon the suggestion of Hamilton, he urged the grand jury to support the Federal Constitution in order to strengthen himself with the Federalists. Whether this be true or not, Yates' previous devotion to the anti-Federalist party set his present conduct in sharp contrast to that of other distinguished anti-Federalist statesmen of the time--to men like Samuel Jones and Melancthon Smith, who accepted the action of the Poughkeepsie convention, but supported George Clinton. "Men, not principles, are involved," they declared.

All that we know of Yates would seem to deny his surrender of principle, or his condescension to any act of baseness, to obtain office. It was indeed a question whether Clinton, or Hamilton through Yates, should control the state government; but the gubernatorial contest involved more than that. The new government, soon to be placed on trial, needed the help of sympathetic governors and legislatures, and Clinton and his supporters, forced to accept the Constitution, could hardly be regarded as its wisest and safest guardians. From Hamilton's standpoint, therefore, it was more principle than men. However agreeable to him it might be to defeat and humiliate Clinton, greater satisfaction must spring from the consciousness that while in its leading-strings, at least, the general government would have the hearty support of New York.

Hamilton's great coalition, intended to work such wonders, boasted many brilliant names. Of the younger men Robert Troup, of Hamilton's age, an early friend of Burr, took a most conspicuous part, while among the older members of this galaxy was James Duane, a lawyer of rare ability, the first mayor of New York, for ten years continuously in the Continental Congress, a man of great force, of large wealth, and superb character. He was in his forties when Hamilton, a boy of seventeen, won his heart by a single speech, denouncing the act of Parliament which closed the port of Boston. The most notable man in the coalition, next to Hamilton and Jay, was Robert R. Livingston, now Hamilton's devoted friend, before long to be his bitter enemy. He was still young, little more than forty, but in everything he was bold and skilful, vigorous as a writer, eloquent as a speaker, deeply learned as a jurist, and rich in scholarship. Of the same age as Livingston was William Duer,[51] who started at eighteen as an aide to Lord Clive in India. Duer was at one time the most useful man in America. Nobody could cheat him. As soon as Hamilton became secretary of the treasury, he made Duer assistant secretary, an office which he held with credit until 1790, when he resigned to become the chief of a ring of speculators, who, two years later, left him insolvent and in jail. Hamilton's coalition also furnished the only instance of the political association of himself and Burr, although Burr's support of Yates is said to have been personal rather than political. The story is that Burr, seeking admission to the bar after reading law less than a year, induced Judge Yates to suspend the rule requiring three years of study, because of the applicant's term as a soldier, a service that laid the foundation of a lasting friendship.

[Footnote 51: It was his son, William Alexander Duer, the brilliant and accomplished writer, who presided for thirteen years with such distinguished ability over Columbia College.]

On the opposite side were many men who live in history as builders of the Empire State. None belong to the gallery of national characters, perhaps, but John Lansing, Livingston's successor as chancellor, and Samuel Jones,[52] the first state comptroller, known, by common consent, as the father of the New York bar, find places in the list of New York's ablest statesmen. To this memorable company also belonged Melancthon Smith, the head of the anti-Federalist forces at the Poughkeepsie convention, and Gilbert Livingston of Dutchess, whose one patriotic address was the last blow needed to ratify the Constitution. He was not, like Smith, a great debater, but his ready eloquence classed him among the orators who were destined to live in the memory of a later generation. Beside him was James Clinton, brother of the Governor and father of DeWitt Clinton. A soldier by profession, he had taken part in several important battles and marches, charging with Bradstreet at the capture of Fort Frontenac, following the lamented Montgomery to Quebec, and serving with Sullivan in his famous expedition against the Indians. Finally, he shared in the glory of being with Washington at the surrender of Lord Cornwallis. He seems to have been the real soldier of the family, blending the strong, active powers of the Clinton mind with the gentler virtues which made him as sympathetic on the field as he was affectionate in the home.

[Footnote 52: "No one," said Chancellor Kent, writing of Samuel Jones, "surpassed him in clearness of intellect and in moderation and simplicity of character; no one equalled him in his accurate knowledge of the technical rules and doctrines of real property, and his familiarity with the skilful and elaborate, but now obsolete and mysterious, black-letter learning of the common law."]

Thus the contest between Yates and Clinton, although the first real political conflict in the history of the State, became one of the sharpest and most bitterly fought. For six weeks the atmosphere was thick and hot with political passion. Veteran observers declared that their generation had seen nothing like it. But the arguments of Duer, the powerful influence of Chancellor Livingston, the leadership of Hamilton, and the phenomenal popularity of John Jay, could not win the voters who saw nothing more in the arrangement than a question of individual preference, and while Yates carried the western district by a large majority and held his own in the southern, Clinton's home county gave him 1093 out of 1245 votes, making his majority 429 in a total vote of 12,353.

The call for the Governor was so close that he quickly prepared for a repetition of the contest in 1792. The inauguration of Washington on April 30 had given Hamilton control of the federal offices in New York, and, although of trifling importance compared to state patronage, they were used to strengthen federalism, and, if possible, to destroy Clinton. John Jay became chief justice of the Supreme Court, James Duane judge of the District Court, Richard Harrison United States attorney, and William S. Smith United States marshal. It was a brilliant array of talent and legal learning. Of the lights and ornaments of the law in his day, Richard Harrison excelled in an intimate knowledge of its intricacies and mysteries. Added to these officials were Rufus King and Philip Schuyler, United States senators, and three members of Congress, with Egbert Benson at their head. As secretary of the treasury and the trusted friend of the President, Hamilton had also multiplied his personal influence.

Governor Clinton felt the full force of the Federalist combination, the fear of which had intensified his hostility to the Union; but he governed his conduct with the toleration and foresight of a master politician. He declined to punish those who had deserted his standard, refusing to accept Robert Yates' apostacy as sufficient cause to bar his promotion as chief justice, and appointing to the vacancy John Lansing, Jr., who, although a strong anti-Federalist, had already shown an independence of political domination.

But the master-stroke of Clinton's diplomacy displayed itself in the appointment of Aaron Burr as attorney-general. After Burr left the army "with the character of a true knight," as John Adams put it, he began the practice of law at Albany. Later he removed to New York, taking up his home in Maiden Lane. Thus far his political career, limited to two terms in the Legislature, had been insignificant. During the great controversy over the Federal Constitution he remained silent. His silence, however, was the silence of concealment. He shared no confidences, he exploited no principles, he did nothing in the open. He lived in an air of mystery, writing letters in cipher, using messengers instead of the mails, and maintaining espionage upon the movements of others. Of himself he wrote to Theodosia, "he is a grave, silent, strange sort of animal, inasmuch that we know not what to make of him." In the political parlance of to-day, his methods savoured of the "still hunt," and in their exercise he exhibited the powers of a past-master in stirring up men's prejudices, and creating divisions among his rivals; but his methods, whether practised in law or in politics, were neither modern nor moral. He marshalled forces with equal celerity under either flag.

Shortly after Burr moved into Maiden Lane, Hamilton made his home in Wall Street. Their first meeting, which occurred on the road from Harlem bridge to White Plains during the disastrous retreat of Washington's army from Manhattan in September, 1776, had been characterised by mutual dislike. Burr, with the rank of major, acted as aide to General Putnam; Hamilton, as an officer of artillery, was soon to become an aide to Washington. Both were young then--Hamilton not yet twenty, Burr scarcely twenty-one; yet their character, then fully developed, shines out in their estimate of the commander-in-chief. Burr thought Washington inferior as an officer, and weak, though honest, as a man; Hamilton thought him a great soldier and a great statesman, upon whose services the welfare of the country largely depended. Burr's prejudices settled into positive dislike; Hamilton's appreciation voiced the sentiment of the people and the judgment of posterity.

There is a legend that from the first, destiny seemed determined to oppose the genius and fame of Hamilton with the genius and fame of Aaron Burr. It is certainly a remarkable coincidence that two men, born without the State, so nearly of an age, so similar in brilliant attainments, so notably distinguished in charm of manner and phenomenal accomplishments, and so strikingly alike in ripeness of intelligence and bent of ambition, should happen to have lived at the same time, in the same city, and become members of the same profession; yet it is not surprising that these men should prove formidable rivals and deadly foes, since difference in character was far more real than resemblance of mental attainments. Both were fearless and brave, but the one was candid, frank and resolute; the other subtle, crafty and adventurous. Perhaps their only common characteristic was an ungoverned admiration for the charms of women, though, unlike Burr, Hamilton neither bragged of his amours, nor boasted that success attended his pursuit of pleasure.

It can hardly be supposed that in appointing Burr attorney-general, Clinton did not have in mind the necessity of securing to the ranks of the anti-Federalists all talented and spirited young men; but it is none the less evident that Clinton was thinking more of himself than of his party. Burr figured as an ugly opponent in the recent campaign. Besides, he possessed the happy faculty of surrounding himself with young men who recognised in him a superlative combination of bravery, chivalry, and ability. Hamilton called them "Burr's myrmidons," but Theodosia, with a daughter's devotion and diplomatic zeal, entitled them "the Tenth Legion." They had joined Burr when a violent Whig in 1784, sending him to the Assembly for two terms; they had rallied under his call to the Sons of Liberty, attracting the fierce fire of Hamilton; and they had broken party bonds to support Robert Yates because of their chief's personal friendship.

Such a man would attract the attention of any political manager, and although Clinton up to this time had had no particular relations with Burr, the latter's enthusiastic support of Yates accentuated his political value. In after years Burr declared that Clinton had always been his rival, and Clinton no less frankly avowed his distrust of Burr, charging him with always being "for sale;" but Burr's rivalry and Clinton's distrust do not date back to 1790.

If Clinton thought himself fortunate in gaining Burr, he was still more fortunate in the defection of the influential Livingstons. What Cæsar said of Gaul used to be said of the Empire State, that all New York was divided into three parts--the Clintons, the Livingstons, and the Schuylers. Parton said "the Clintons had power, the Livingstons had numbers, and the Schuylers had Hamilton."[53] In 1788 seven members of the Livingston family, with the Schuylers, had overthrown the Clintons, and turned the Confederation into the Union. Robert R. Livingston, standing at their head, was the exponent of a liberal policy toward all American citizens, and the champion of a broader national life. His associates were the leading Federalists; his principles were the pillars of his party; and his ambitions centred in the success and strength of his country.

[Footnote 53: James Parton, _Life of Aaron Burr_, Vol. 1, p. 169. "New York, much more than New England, was the home of natural leaders and family alliances. John Jay, the governor; the Schuylers, led by Philip Schuyler and his son-in-law, Alexander Hamilton; the Livingstons, led by Robert R. Livingston, with a promising younger brother, Edward, nearly twenty years his junior, and a brother-in-law, John Armstrong, besides Samuel Osgood, Morgan Lewis and Smith Thompson, other connections by marriage with the great Livingston stock; the Clintons, headed by George, the governor, and supported by the energy of DeWitt, his nephew,--all these Jays, Schuylers, Livingstons, Clintons, had they lived in New England, would probably have united in the support of their class; but being citizens of New York they quarrelled."--Henry Adams, _History of the United States_, Vol. 1, pp. 108-09.]

Prudence, therefore, if no higher motive, required that the Livingstons be not overlooked in the division of federal patronage. There was much of it to divide. Besides cabinet positions and judicial appointments, the foreign service offered rare opportunities to a few accomplished statesmen and recognised scholars. Robert R. Livingston, as chancellor of New York, stood in line of promotion for chief justice of the United States Supreme Court, but John Jay stood nearer to Hamilton, just as Philip Schuyler did when United States senators were chosen. Other honourable and most desirable positions, however, were open. John Quincy Adams thought a mission to England or France better than the Cabinet, but Gouverneur Morris went to France, Thomas Pinckney to England, William Short to Spain, and David Humphreys to Portugal. The Livingstons were left out.

Hamilton's funding system, especially the proposed assumption of state debts, then dividing the public mind, afforded plausible cause for opposing federalism; and ostensibly for this reason, the Livingstons ceased to be Federalists. Some of the less conspicuous members, residents of Columbia County, continued their adherence, but the statesmen who give the family its name in history wanted nothing more of a party whose head was a "young adventurer," a man "not native to the soil," a "merchant's clerk from the West Indies." The story is that the Chancellor convened the family and made the separation so complete that Washington's subsequent offer of the mission to France failed to secure his return.

The first notice of the Livingston break was in the election of a United States senator in 1791. Philip Schuyler, Hamilton's father-in-law, confidently expected a re-election. His selection for the short term was with this understanding. But several members of the Assembly, nominally Federalists, were friendly to Clinton, who preferred Aaron Burr to Schuyler because of Hamilton's influence over him;[54] and when the Governor promised Morgan Lewis, the Chancellor's brother-in-law, Burr's place as attorney-general, Livingston's disposition to injure Hamilton became intensified, and to the disappointment of Schuyler, the vote of the Legislature disclosed a small majority for Burr.

[Footnote 54: In a letter to Theodorus Bailey, Chancellor Kent, then a member of the Assembly, expressed the opinion that "things look auspicious for Burr. It will be in some measure a question of northern and southern interests. The objection of Schuyler's being related to the Secretary has weight."--William Kent, _Memoirs and Letters of James Kent_, p. 39.]

It is easy to conjecture that the haughty, unpopular, aristocratic old General[55] would not be as acceptable as a young man of thirty-five, fascinating in manner, gifted in speech, and not yet openly and offensively partisan; but it needed something more than this charm of personality to line up the hard-headed, self-reliant legislator against Hamilton and Philip Schuyler, and Burr found it in his appeal to Clinton, and in the clever brother-in-law suggestion to Livingston.

[Footnote 55: "The defeat of Schuyler was attributed partly to the unprepossessing austerity of his manner."--_Ibid._, p. 38.]

The defeat of Schuyler was a staggering blow to Hamilton. The great statesman had achieved success as secretary of the treasury, but as a political manager, his lack of tact, impatience of control, and infirmity of temper, had crippled the organisation. In less than three years the party had lost a United States senator, suffered the separation of a family vastly more important than federal appointees, and sacrificed the prestige of victory, so necessary to political success.