Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.

by Benson John Lossing

At that time the question, Where shall the seat of the federal government be permanently located? was a subject of violent contest, the people in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, wishing it to be in their respective states. Debates had run high upon the subject in Congress, and the public press had discussed it vigorously. It being observed at Jefferson's dinner-party that a reconsideration of the assumption bill, and its adoption, would be “a bitter pill” to the southern states, it was proposed that “some concomitant measure should be adopted to sweeten it a little to them.” The location of the seat of government was chosen as the soother. The contest had narrowed, geographically, so that it lay between Philadelphia on the Delaware and Georgetown on the Potomac. It was proposed to give it to Philadelphia for ten years, and to Georgetown permanently thereafter, believing that “that might, as an anodyne, calm in some degree the ferment which might be excited by the other measure alone.” “Two of the Potomac members agreed to change their votes,” says Jefferson, “and Hamilton undertook to carry the other point. In doing this, the influence he had established over the eastern members, with the agency of Robert Morris with those of the middle states, effected his side of the engagement.” The assumption bill was carried, and the location of the seat of government was settled. Congress agreed to make Philadelphia its residence for ten years, during which time the public buildings should be erected at some point on the Potomac that the president might select. Subsequently a territory ten miles square, lying on both sides of the Potomac in Maryland and Virginia, was ceded by those states to the United States, and called the district of Columbia. Thus the matter was settled.

When Jefferson's sensitive republicanism took the alarm to which we have alluded, he became suspicious of all around him. His feelings toward Hamilton changed, until he considered him a monarchist in principle, and regarded all his financial schemes as intended to strengthen the general government, centralize power, and make the treasury the controlling lever of public affairs, the chief of which, with almost autocratic puissance, might direct everything to suit his own political views. With this impression, retrospection made him angry and resentful. He regarded the manner in which Hamilton had procured his aid in effecting the measure of assumption as a snare by which he had been entrapped, and he characterized the measure itself as a fiscal manœuvre, to which he had “ignorantly and innocently been made to hold the candle.”

This was the beginning of those dissentions in his cabinet which afterward gave the president so much trouble. They had grown to mischievous proportions at a time when he believed there was perfect harmony among his constitutional advisers. He had never experienced the sentiment of jealousy himself, and he was the last man to suspect it in others; and at the time when Jefferson and Hamilton were regarding each other with a spirit of rivalry, Washington wrote to Lafayette, saying: “Many of your old acquaintances and friends are concerned with me in the administration of this government. By having Mr. Jefferson at the head of the department of state, Mr. Jay of the judiciary, Hamilton of the treasury, and Knox of war, I feel myself supported by able coadjutors who harmonize extremely well.”

Out of the rivalry between Jefferson and Hamilton, and the conflict of their opinions respecting the national jurisprudence and French politics, grew the two political parties known respectively, for about twenty years, as Federal and Republican. We shall observe that growth as we progress in our narrative.

While Congress and the nation were agitated by discussions concerning the public debt, another topic elicited a still more exciting discussion: it was African slavery and the slave-trade. Slavery then existed in all the states of the Union except Massachusetts, in whose constitution a clause had been inserted for the purpose of tacitly abolishing the system from the commonwealth. Pennsylvania had adopted measures with the same view, and had been imitated by Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire. New York, New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland, had prohibited the further importation of slaves; and in Virginia and Maryland restrictions upon emancipation had been repealed. A desire to get rid of the system appeared to prevail throughout the Union. The Presbyteries of New York and Pennsylvania, composing a united synod, had constituted themselves as the general assembly of the Presbyterian church in America; and that representative body issued a pastoral letter in 1788, in which they strongly recommended the abolition of slavery, and the instruction of negroes in letters and religion. The Methodist church, then rising into notice, even refused slaveholders a place in their communion; and the Quakers had made opposition to slavery a part of their discipline. In these benevolent movements Washington sympathized; for he desired to see the system extinguished by some just method.

It was only a few days after the commencement of the debate on the public debt, that a petition from the yearly meeting of the Quakers of Pennsylvania and Delaware, with another from that of New York, was laid before the house of representatives. A motion for reference to a special committee caused a warm debate, and some of those who opposed its reception spoke sneeringly of “the men in the gallery,” who were the Quaker deputation appointed to look after the petition.[28] It was laid upon the table that day; and at the opening of the session on the following morning, another petition on the same subject, from the Pennsylvania society for the abolition of slavery, was presented. It was signed by Benjamin Franklin (president of the society), then in the last weeks of his life. The petition was read, and then the Quaker memorial was called up. The excitement in the house was very great. The movement was denominated an improper interference with state rights, or at least an act of imprudence; and Judge Burke, of South Carolina, declared that if these memorials were entertained by commitment, the act would “sound an alarm and blow the trumpet of sedition through the southern states.”

The question was mainly a constitutional one, but the debates took great latitude. It was finally agreed to commit the memorials, by a vote of forty-three to eleven. They were referred to a committee consisting of one member from each of the states of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia.

A month afterward, that committee reported seven resolutions: first, that the general government was expressly restrained from prohibiting the carrying on of the slave-trade until the year 1808; second, that by a fair construction of the constitution, Congress was equally restrained from interfering with slavery, in the matter of emancipation, in the several states; third, that Congress had no power to interfere in the internal regulations of slavery in the several states; fourth, that Congress had the right, by virtue of the revenue laws, to levy a tax of ten dollars upon every person imported as property under the special permission of any of the states; fifth, that Congress had power to regulate or to interdict the African slave-trade, carried on by citizens of the United States for the supply of foreign countries; sixth, that Congress had the right to prohibit foreigners from fitting out vessels in the United States, to be employed in the supply of foreign countries with slaves from Africa; seventh, that Congress would exercise their authority to its full extent, to promote the humane objects set forth in the memorial of the Quakers.

This report called forth zealous and sometimes angry debates for a whole week, when it was finally agreed, at the suggestion of Fisher Ames, seconded by Madison and others, by a vote of twenty-nine to twenty-five, to enter the report at length upon the journal of the house, where it might be consulted in the future, and to take no further action. Thus ended the first agitation of the still pending “slavery question” in Congress. In a letter to Doctor Stuart, in June, referring to a complaint of the tardiness of Congress, Washington remarked: “The introduction of the Quaker memorial respecting slavery was, to be sure, not only ill-timed, but occasioned a great waste of time. The final decision thereon, however, was as favorable as the proprietors of this species of property could well have expected, considering the light in which slavery is viewed by a large part of this Union.”

While topics of a domestic nature agitated the public mind and occupied the attention of the national legislature, the foreign relations of the government (in which expression may be included the relations with hostile Indian tribes) were far from satisfactory. We have already alluded to the hostile attitude of some of the tribes in the northwest and southwest, among whom it was suspected British emissaries were at work. Those of the southwest, especially the Creek nation, had been in a disturbed state for some time, and difficulties with the authorities of Georgia had caused an open rupture a little earlier than the period in question. The Creeks were governed by an accomplished chief, Alexander M'Gillivray, the son of a loyalist Scotchman, of that name, and a Creek woman of a leading family. He had been well educated, and his father designed him for commercial pursuits. He loved study more than ledgers; and his father owning large possessions in Georgia, the young man looked forward to wealth and social position. But the revolution swept all away. His father's property was confiscated, and young M'Gillivray took refuge with the Creeks, his heart filled with hatred of the republicans. He was brave, fluent in speech, popular with the leading men, and soon rose to the rank of head chief; and no doubt he stirred up his nation to assume an attitude hostile to the Americans.