Jefferson and Hamilton

by Claude G. Bowers

‘Sure George the Third will find employ
For one so wise and wary,
He’ll call “Camillus” home with joy,
And make him Secretary.’[1100]

In truth, even as he wrote, Hamilton was raging not a little over these stupid insults to America, and was writing Wolcott proposing that the exchange of ratifications be refused until the order to seize our vessels with provisions be rescinded.[1101]

Far away on his hilltop, Jefferson was observing Hamilton’s literary efforts with real concern, if the rank and file of his party were not. ‘Hamilton is really a colossus to the anti-republican party,’ he wrote Madison, apropos of the defense of the treaty. ‘Without numbers, he is a host within himself. They have got themselves into a defile where they can be finished; but too much security on the republican part will give time to his talent ... to extricate them.... When he comes forward there is no one but yourself who can meet him. For God’s sake take up your pen and give a fundamental reply to Curtius and Camillus.’[1102] But neither ‘for God’s sake,’ nor for Jefferson’s, did Madison comply. He was enjoying his vacation with Dolly. Even so, the Federalists were still in the woods on the treaty—and there was yet a memorable fight ahead.

CHAPTER XIII
THE DRAMA OF ‘96

I

EXUBERANT over their success in capitalizing Washington’s consent to the treaty, the Federalists returned to Philadelphia in an ugly mood. With celerity and éclat, the Senate threw down the gauntlet with the rejection of the nomination of John Rutledge because of his hostility to the treaty. The motive was unescapable. He was an able jurist, an erudite lawyer, a pure patriot with a superb record of high public services—but he had denounced the Federalist treaty. That was enough. The leaders were delighted with their action, Senator Johnson thinking it would have been unfortunate to have permitted Rutledge to remain upon the Bench ‘after what had appeared.’ Of course, the opposition would ‘endeavor to impress it upon the minds of the people that the majority were influenced by improper motives,’ but that was unavoidable.[1103] Jefferson viewed the incident from his hilltop with the vision of a prophet. ‘A bold thing,’ he thought, ‘because they cannot pretend any objection to him but his disapprobation of the treaty.’ It meant that the Federalists ‘would receive none but Tories hereafter into any department of the government,’ and it would not be surprising were Monroe recalled from Paris because ‘of his being of the partisans of France.’ Monticello was remote, but its master could see a long way.[1104]

The Senate still seemed safe to the Federalists on their return, but there were grave misgivings as to the House. Young Livingston had caused trouble enough and he was back to give more than Ames ‘the hypo,’ but more ominous was the appearance there for the first time of Albert Gallatin. He had been thrown out of the Senate as speedily as possible, but not before he had given proof of his financial genius. There, the Jeffersonians had been weak in leadership. It was characteristic of the inner circle of the Federalists to hate any opponent they could not despise—and they dare not despise this young man from Geneva. Even in private life he had been denounced and damned in the spirit of the pothouse, and Hamilton had ardently hoped for his indictment in connection with the Whiskey Insurrection. When his election had seemed probable, an effort had actually been made to disfranchise his district as a region of sedition—but here was Gallatin. A duel between Gallatin’s father-in-law, Admiral Nicholson, and Hamilton had been narrowly averted in the autumn; but Gallatin, rising serenely above his detractors, had refused to be ruffled, and had advised his wife not to express her sentiments on the treatment accorded him too hotly lest it ‘lead to consequences you would forever regret.’[1105] Since these two brilliant, bitterly hated, and violently abused men, Livingston and Gallatin, were to play conspicuous parts in the drama of the House, it is worth while to pause for a more intimate impression of them.

II

‘Edward Livingston now lives here in the style of a nabob,’ wrote Wolcott during this session.[1106] It was a style to which he had been accustomed from birth, for he was of the baronial aristocracy of New York. He was but thirty-two at the time, tall, handsome, dashing and daring, witty and eloquent, and with a luminous background of wealth, culture, tradition, and personal achievement. Even the most inveterate snob among his political opponents must have envied him his advantages. Born in the mansion of the Livingstons at ‘Clermont,’ on the Hudson, he had passed his winters in the town house in New York, which swarmed with slave servants. From boyhood, his society had been eagerly sought. With his fleeing mother he had witnessed from a hilltop his loved home given to the flames by British soldiers; and to his dying day he carried a poignant memory of the parting of his sister with her hero husband, Richard Montgomery, when he set forth for his final fight. Lafayette had been so captivated by the charming youth while visiting his home that he had vainly importuned his mother for permission to take him to France; and when the young man attended the Marquis a way on the Boston road, so romantic was the attachment that the latter had urged the youth to make the journey, nevertheless, with the promise to conciliate the family. His was a unique charm, a fascinating personality.

Graduating from Princeton, in the class with Giles, he had his choice between a life of laborious accomplishment and one of leisurely elegance. Society, the gayest, giddiest, most entrancing, held forth its arms to him. His mother’s drawing-room was always crowded with brilliant and beautiful women and clever men, attracted partly by the exquisite charms of the widow of Montgomery. He had an income, a town and country house, slaves to do his bidding, and he turned from the enticing prospect to bury himself in the assiduous study of the law. Now and then he laid his books aside to flirt with Theodosia Burr, to dance with the pretty belles, to play for stakes with women at the gambling-table inseparable from the more fashionable houses—but only as a diversion.