Jefferson and Hamilton

by Claude G. Bowers

VII

Foremost among the reasons for the virulence of the Hamiltonians toward these societies was that they were interfering with the Federalist plans for the political suppression of the ‘mob.’ Many ‘men of no particular importance’ were, by combining, making themselves a force to be reckoned with at the polls. Meeting regularly throughout the year, they were teaching the mechanic, the clerk, the small farmer, to think in terms of politics. Worse still, they were manifesting an uncomfortable disposition to pry into the proceedings of their representatives in Congress. No one saw this more clearly than Jefferson, who, in his retirement, was observing their growing power with complete approval. Throughout the summer of 1794, politicians were constantly driving up the hill to Monticello. It was determined to force the fight in that year’s elections. Candidates were brought out in most of the districts, and wherever there was a Democratic Society, the fight was a hard one for the Federalists. For the first time they faced an organization, disciplined, practical, aflame with enthusiasm.

This was especially true in Massachusetts where a herculean effort was made to defeat Fisher Ames with Dr. Jarvis in the Boston district. The Titan of the Federalists in debate was kept on the defensive, with charges that he had speculated in the funds and was in English pay. The men in the streets made merry with Ames’s solemn assurance that England was ‘amicably disposed.’ He was an ‘aristocrat’ and had ‘no faith in republican institutions’—a close guess. His friends mobilized for his defense. What if he had speculated?—so had Jarvis.[959] Alarmed at the rising sentiment for Jarvis, the friends of Ames resorted to modern methods of propaganda, with business men signing an appeal published as an advertisement.[960] This, described by the ‘Independent Chronicle’ as ‘a new practice,’ was turned upon the Federalists. ‘How many of the poor seamen or Captains are there among the signers who have lost their all? Not one—are they of no account in the estimate?’[961] Election day found at the polling-place ‘the greatest collection of people ever at a Boston election.’ The polls opened at eleven and closed at one. The hall was so crowded ‘it was difficult to receive the votes with any degree of order.’ Half an hour before the polls closed, it was discovered that many non-residents and non-taxpayers were in the room, and thereafter these were challenged by the Jeffersonians. The Democrats afterwards charged that Ames had been the beneficiary of ‘voters consisting of foreigners from on board vessels at the wharf, and persons from other towns.’[962] Ames carried Boston by a majority large enough to overcome his notable losses outside the city. Madison wrote Jefferson that Ames owed his victory to ‘the vote of negroes and British sailors smuggled in under the loose mode of holding elections’ in Massachusetts. Even so, he found a ray of sunshine in the close calls of Sedgwick and Good.[963]

In New York City the Federalists moved heaven and earth to defeat Edward Livingston with the cry that ‘Livingston is an aristocrat, his opponent a plebeian’; but this appeal to the masses fell flat with the exposé of the questionable patriotism of this ‘plebeian.’ Tammany, the Democratic Society, and Jeffersonians generally fought energetically for their young orator, and the exhortation to ‘let Edward Livingston, the poor man’s friend, and the uniform asserter of the Rights of Man return to Congress,’ was not made in vain.[964] The severity of this blow to the Federalists was acknowledged in Ames’s admission that ‘the election of Edward Livingston almost gives me the hypo.’[965] In North Carolina a spectacular fight was made to crush the Federalists under the leadership of Timothy Bloodworth, directed by the cunning Willie Jones, who continued to make history with his whittling knife and pipe, and, with the resulting Waterloo, the Hamiltonians began to entrench themselves in Federal jobs.[966] There the country-squire type rose on the shoulders of the people under leaders who ‘could not have obtained entrance to Lady Washington’s parlors, but who knew the difference between the demands of popular institutions and special interests.’[967]

Even in Philadelphia the Jeffersonians won a sensational victory by defeating Fitzsimons, one of Hamilton’s lieutenants, with John Swanwick, who had led the fight in the merchants’ meeting for the Madison Resolutions. In Charleston, William Smith narrowly escaped defeat through the intervention, according to Madison, ‘of British merchants ... and their debtors in the country.’[968] All in all, Madison felt that great progress had been made. It was the first real challenge the Federalists had met, and they had not enjoyed the experience. Surveying the field in search of the cause, they pointed accusing fingers at the Democratic Societies.

VIII

Before passing on to the mass attack on these societies, let us pause for a hasty review of other happenings of that eventful summer and autumn. Madison was in a tender mood. A little before he had fallen under the spell of a merry widow whose glance was coquettish and whose tongue was nimble. The early autumn found him married to Dolly Todd; the early winter, cozily ensconced in the house the Monroes had occupied before they went to France.[969]

In the house on the hilltop, Jefferson was living a quiet life. He was little more than fifty, his hair touched with gray, his form erect, his step elastic, his strength undiminished. With his daughters about him, all was gayety about the blazing hearth in winter and on the lawn in summer. The supervision of the plantation was to his taste. There were fences to be repaired, trees to be planted. He was interested in the growth of potatoes. He rode about ordering the uprooting of weeds here and bushes there. His correspondence was light. In acknowledging a book from John Adams, he wrote that his retirement had ‘been postponed four years too long,’ and that his present happiness left him nothing to regret. That fall Washington had sought again to entice him back into the Cabinet, but he had been untempted. Though happy in his retirement, he was the old war-horse, sniffing the battle from afar.[970]

And things were happening over the land. Dr. Joseph Priestley, the English liberal, driven from England by persecution, had been given an uproarious greeting in New York and had replied to addresses from Tammany and Democratic Societies with severe strictures on the repressive measures of Pitt; and an exotic creature, who had been living obscurely in Philadelphia as a teacher, startled the country with a pamphlet reply in a vein of sarcasm and satire worthy of the masters of the art. England was glorified, France crucified, Democratic Societies excoriated, the Irish in America damned—and the Hamiltonians rejoiced. Many were shocked. Since William Cobbett was to work under the encouragement of Hamilton,[971] we shall become better acquainted with him by and by.

Otherwise life was moving along in Philadelphia much the same as usual. Society was still in the saddle. Blanchard, who was thrilling the people with balloon ascensions, was postponing one of his ascents ‘because of the marriage of a person of distinction.’[972] The French madness was unabated, and on July 11th a French victory was theatrically celebrated. ‘La Carmagnole’ was danced in the streets. Public officials marched with the populace to the French Minister’s house where orations were heard and ‘La Marseillaise’ was sung. At Richardet’s five hundred sat down to a noisy feast, after which they danced around a liberty tree, set off fireworks, and burned a British flag.[973] Even Rickett’s Circus was so fashionable that Fenno hoped he would begin his performances an hour earlier to permit citizens to enjoy the dare-devil feats before repairing to the House of Representatives to hear the debates.[974] Bache, educated abroad, was a lover of the play and interested in seeing democratic features introduced—say, an occasional ‘simple air’ interspersed with the classics for the delectation of the ‘gallery gods who pay their money like other folks.’[975] But the time was to come when even Bache was to make sad grimaces at democratic manners in the theater. This was when the ‘gallery gods’ hit upon a novel mode of entertainment, of selecting some inoffensive ‘aristocrat’ in the pit and demanding that he doff his hat to the gallery. Naturally ignored, ‘a hundred stentorian voices would call out for his punishment.’ Thereupon the gods would pelt the unfortunate victim with apples and pears, sticks, and even stones, and assail him ‘with scurrillity and abuse.’ Throughout the evening the persecution would continue. Spitting, and emptying beer-bottles upon him increased his misery. It was bad enough, thought Bache, to spit upon the men ‘aristocrats,’ without spattering the delicate dresses of the aristocratic ladies with beer. One night most of the orchestra was driven out of the house. ‘It is time to stop this growing evil,’ wrote Bache, ‘which has been on the increase ever since the opening of the house.’[976] The Federalists were delighted at his embarrassment. Here was the rabid editor’s ‘democracy.’ These people in the galleries were his ‘sovereign people.’ And all this was due to the leveling influence of the Democratic Societies. They must go!