On January 23d, the result of the deliberations of Jefferson, Madison, and Giles appeared when the latter rose in the House to present a set of resolutions calling upon the President to submit complete reports on the fiscal operations of the Government. To these the House was clearly entitled. Nor was there anything violent or outrageous in Giles’s speech in which he explained them. The House had been legislating for four years ‘without competent official knowledge of the state of the Treasury or revenue.’ They had ‘engaged in the most important fiscal arrangements,’ and had ‘authorized a loan of the Bank ... for more than $500,000 when probably a greater sum of public money was deposited in the Bank.’ They were now on the point of authorizing a further loan of $2,000,000 in the dark—and they were entitled to light. ‘I conceive that it is now time for this information to be laid before the House.’[723] No one rose to object and the resolutions were adopted.

To Hamilton, who looked upon Congress as a meddlesome body, they appeared as something more than a bore. They were an imposition and an insult. He was entrusted with the financial arrangements, and all he asked was to be let alone. But he realized that such a lofty tone could not be publicly assumed. Suppressing his indignation, he set to work with meticulous care to prepare the fullest possible reports before the expiration of the congressional session. His enemies thought to burden him with a task that could not be performed in so short a time. Their strategy was to let the resolutions with their implications seep in on the minds of the people throughout the ensuing summer; his cue was to thwart them in that purpose, to achieve the impossible, to meet the resolutions during the session, and win a triumph.

Not for him, that winter, the gala nights at the new Chestnut Street Theater, nor the dinners at the Binghams’, nor the dances at the Stewarts’, nor the felicities of the hearth with Eliza at his side. His place was at the Pemberton mansion, day and night, until the work was done. Oliver Wolcott and the clerks were doomed to the same drudgery. Far into the night the lights gleamed in the windows of the old house, and dark and deserted were the streets when the workers made their way to their various homes after dreary hours of poring over figures, assembling facts, and writing explanations.

Within twelve days, the first report, with elaborate tables containing the most minute details of transactions, was sent to the House. Two days later, the second report was done and in. A week more and the third was sent. Another six days, and the last was finished. The intense application, the late hours, the nervous strain, told perceptibly on Hamilton, who was never robust. The color left his cheeks when they were not flushed with excitement. His nights were all but sleepless. His waning strength was sustained by the driving force of his powerful mind. When it was over, even Wolcott found that his routine business had fallen behind and that he would ‘be busy for some time to bring it up.’ To his father he apologized for failure to answer letters. There was no time for letters. ‘The winter ... has required every exertion which I could make.’[724]

As these voluminous reports poured in upon the House in rapid succession, the Jeffersonians were amazed and the Hamiltonians beside themselves with joy. A startling intellectual feat, to be sure. ‘I can recall nothing from the British Minister in all the conflicts of party equal to it,’ wrote one admirer. ‘Even Neckar’s boasted account of the finances of France ... is inferior, although that was the result of long study and elaborate preparation, and Hamilton’s the work of a moment. Poor fellow, if he has slept much these last three weeks I congratulate him upon it.’[725] Wonderful reports, agreed the ‘Centinel’ of Boston. ‘The manly unequivocable sentiments—the fair and accurate statements, and the judicious arrangements ... must fix his character as a Patriot, a statesman, and an able and honest financier.’[726] Yes, added another, ‘he will come forth pure gold.’[727]

But his enemies were not so much delighted. They read and studied the reports, complaining that the wizard of the speculators was up to his old tricks. A maze of words, interminable sophistries, columns of confusing figures, arguments instead of facts, and special pleading—no one could understand these reports—such the verdict of the rank and file. To which the Hamiltonians responded with a sneering verse:

‘The Secretary makes reports
When’er the House commands him;
But for their lives, some members say,
They cannot understand him.
In such a puzzling case as this
What can a mortal do?
‘Tis hard for ONE to find REPORTS
And understanding too.’[728]

But the leaders among the Jeffersonians were studying the reports and finding a few things that they could understand. Evidence of corruption they did not find, but they found technical violations of the law, an indifference on Hamilton’s part to the clear intent of Congress in making appropriations—quite enough, as they thought, on which to continue the attack. Again Giles and Madison sat with Jefferson in his home going over the reports, and framing the second set of resolutions with which it was hoped to drive their enemy from the Cabinet.

VII

Three days before the end of the session, Giles presented his famous resolutions in condemnation of Hamilton’s official conduct, based on the disclosures in his reports. It does not matter who originally wrote them. A scholarly historian[729] has produced proof of the part played by Jefferson. In the very nature of things he must have had a part. Madison unquestionably made suggestions and possibly revamped the copy produced by Jefferson. Giles presented them, and they embodied the conclusions of the three outstanding leaders of the opposition.