Presently, the currents of converse shift, and the torrid heats of party are considered. It is now that Jefferson is heard from.
“The situation is deplorable!” he exclaims. “You and I, sir”—looking across at Adams—“have seen warm debates and high political passions. But gentlemen of different politics would then speak to each other, and separate the business of the Senate from that of society. It is not so now. Men who have been intimate all their lives cross the street to avoid meeting, and turn their heads another way lest they be obliged to touch their hats. Men’s passions are boiling over; and one who keeps himself cool, and clear of the contagion, is so far below the point of ordinary conversation that he finds himself socially cast away. More; there is a moral breaking down. The interruption of letters is becoming so notorious”—here he looks hard at Hamilton, whose followers are supposed to peep into letters not addressed to them—“that I am forming a resolution of declining correspondence with my friends through the channels of the post office altogether.”
Even during Aaron’s short stay at the Capitol, fresh fuel is heaped upon the fires of his Hamilton hates. A cloud blows up in the sky; war with France is threatened. Washington at Mount Vernon is commissioned commander in chief; Hamilton—the active—is placed next to him. Aaron’s name, sent in for a general’s commission, is secretly vetoed by Hamilton whispering in the Adams ear.
Adams does not like the veto; he thinks he should name Aaron, and says so.
“If you do,” declares Hamilton warningly, “it will defeat your reelection.”
Adams groans and gives way. It is the argument wherewith Hamilton never fails to drive him or curb him as he will. Aaron hears of this new offense; he says nothing, but lays it away with the others.
Candidate Jefferson and Manager Aaron are far apart in their hopes and fears, the former taking the gloomy view. They come together confidentially.
“I have looked over the field,” says Jefferson, “and we are already beaten.”
“Sir,” returns Aaron with grim point, “you should look again. I think you see things wrong end up.”
“My hatred of Hamilton,” observes Aaron to Van Ness, as their coach rolls north for home, “is the good fortune of Jefferson. I shall be fighting my own fight, and so I shall win. If I were fighting only for Jefferson, I can well see how the strife might have another upcome.”