As Hamilton surveyed the wreckage of the field, he saw an opportunity. There was another bitter battle pending over the selection of the site of the permanent capital. Might he not bargain a bit and trade enough votes for Assumption? The site of the capital was a matter of indifference to him. No sentimental ties bound him to any State or community. No dust sacred to him rested anywhere in American soil. He was ready to go with any group that could contribute enough votes to make Assumption sure. Philadelphia—New York—the Susquehanna—Baltimore—the Potomac—a mere bagatelle to him. In the fact that it was more than that to others he saw his chance. Could the Virginians or the Marylanders who had opposed Assumption pay him in votes for a capital at Georgetown, or even Baltimore? Could Robert Morris whip the stubborn Pennsylvanians into line for a capital in Philadelphia or on the Susquehanna? True, Washington favored Georgetown, but that meant nothing to Hamilton if Georgetown could not bring Assumption. It is a myth of history that he was tenderly considerate of the wishes of his chief: the facts to sustain it do not appear. Far more important to him was the fact that Madison and Carroll favored Georgetown. They had votes.
The intense bitterness over the struggle called for infinite diplomacy and sagacity in negotiation. The papers of the country were filled with ill-natured letters on the fight which was no more in evidence in Congress than in the bar-rooms of the competing cities. Ames, like Hamilton, cared little about the site if he could but get Assumption, and was disgusted with the ‘despicable grogshop contest, whether the taverns in New York or Philadelphia shall get the custom of Congress.’ Sedgwick had become a ‘perfect slave to the business,’ and ‘Goodhue frowned all day long and swears as much as a good Christian can....’[273]
By early June the bargaining stage had been reached. One day Tench Coxe, of the Treasury, and Jackson, one of Washington’s secretaries, called at the lodgings of Fitzsimons and Clymer with the bald proposition to trade the permanent residence to Philadelphia for enough Pennsylvania votes to pass Assumption. Taking this as a hint from Hamilton, Robert Morris wrote him that early the next morning he should be taking a walk on the Battery, and if any propositions were open he would be very glad to have the Secretary of the Treasury join him in his constitutional. Thus, long before many of the statesmen had enjoyed their coffee, Hamilton and Morris paced up and down at the deserted Battery. With Walpolean directness, Hamilton went to the point. He needed one vote in the Senate and five in the House. If Morris could assure him these, he could give assurance, in return, that the permanent residence would be given to Germantown or the Falls of the Delaware. Morris promised to consult his colleagues—but how about the temporary residence for Philadelphia? After thinking it over, Hamilton sent word that he would not think of bargaining on the temporary residence.[274] For several days these negotiations continued. The Pennsylvanians moved with a deliberation that tried Hamilton’s patience. A few days later he threatened his Philadelphia friends with the possibility of the New-Englanders going to Baltimore or the Potomac.[275]
Meanwhile, Hamilton had been thinking seriously of Jefferson. They met as strangers, knowing one another well by reputation. Their feelings were friendly. There were innumerable reasons why they should ultimately fly at each other’s throats, but that was in the future. One June day they met at the presidential mansion on Broadway, and, leaving at the same time, Hamilton saw his opportunity.
There was a picture for an artist to paint—Hamilton and Jefferson, arm in arm, walking along Broadway discussing the possibilities of a bargain. With all the persuasiveness of his eloquence, Hamilton dwelt on the very real danger of disunion if Assumption failed. With subtle diplomacy he seemed to throw himself trustfully on Jefferson’s mercy. A great struggle for independence—a promising young nation—and was all to be lost? The South wanted the capital, the North wanted Assumption—could there not be a common meeting-ground? Jefferson would see.
A dinner at Jefferson’s table in the house on Broadway. Men from the South about the board. The topic—the pending bargain. A little later, Hamilton was informed that an agreement could be reached. The word was passed along the line. Even Madison satisfied himself that, since Assumption could not be prevented, the bargain might as well be made—but if there had been no bargain there would have been no Assumption. A few nights later the Pennsylvania delegation entertained both Hamilton and Jefferson at dinner. The latter impressed one guest with his ‘dignity of presence and gravity,’ Hamilton with his ‘boyish giddy manner.’ Whatever may have been the cause of the gravity of Jefferson, there was reason for the giddiness of Hamilton—he had won![276]
XII
The attempt of Jefferson in later life to explain his part in the bargain over Assumption, with the assertion that he had been deceived by Hamilton, is in the nature of an alibi created after the crime. He was not a simple-minded rustic, and his correspondence previous to the bargain shows that he had given serious consideration to Assumption. He had been in daily contact with Madison who had led the fight against it. A meticulously careful student of the press, he unquestionably was familiar with every objection to Assumption and funding which he afterward offered. He had undoubtedly read Madison’s argument which had been published a month after he reached New York. As late as June 20th, he was writing Monroe that, unless the quarrel over Assumption and the residence was settled, ‘there will be no funding bill agreed to, our credit will burst and vanish, and the States separate, to take care, every one of itself.’ Much as he would prefer that the States pay their own debts, he could see ‘the necessity of yielding to the cries of the creditors ... for the sake of the Union, and to save it from the greatest of all calamities, the total extinction of our credit in Europe.’[277] Here was justification enough for his action without resorting to the fanciful story of his deception by Hamilton. ‘The question of assuming the State debts has created greater animosities than I ever yet saw,’ he wrote Dr. Gilmer a week after his letter to Monroe.[278] Thus he knew precisely how the lines were drawn. Perhaps he did not appreciate at the moment the political advantage of appearing on the side of the opposition,—but he was not deceived. Nor was Madison imposed upon. He accepted the bargain because ‘the crisis demands the spirit of accommodation,’ albeit he wished it ‘considered as an unavoidable evil and possibly not the worse side of the dilemma.’[279]
With many, however, the triumph of Assumption meant placing Hamilton and his followers in an impregnable position; this, too, was the idea of the Hamiltonians and great was their rejoicing. When the measure passed the Senate, members of the lower House were packed behind the iron railing, the smiling faces of Ames and Sedgwick conspicuous among them. To the extremists in the opposition it seemed the end. ‘I do not see that I can do any good here and I think I had better go home,’ wrote Maclay. ‘Everything, even to the naming of a committee is prearranged by Hamilton and his group of speculators.’[280] And the Hamiltonians, who had raged over the satirical article on the birth of Assumption, made merry over a verse in Fenno’s journal:
‘The wit who bastardized thy name
And croaked a funeral dirge
Knew not how spotless was thy fame
How soon thou would’st emerge.’[281]