I
During the early days of the Jackson régime, a remarkable and little remembered figure passed furtively in and out of the closet of the President, playing a quiet, but none the less effective, part in the moulding of policies. This was none other than James A. Hamilton, son of the creator of the National Bank. Then a trusted brave of the tribe of Tammany, the reflector of Van Buren, the supporter of Jackson, he had fought the Federalist machine of New York, been made acting Secretary of State by the President pending the arrival of Van Buren, and later been appointed District Attorney of New York. For several years on the eve of portentous events he glided into the capital. That the son of Alexander Hamilton should have had such intimate relations with the President who denounced what he thought to be the persecution of Aaron Burr, is one of the mysteries of history.
When the first Jackson Message was under consideration, Hamilton, in response to the requests of Van Buren, Lewis, and others, reached Washington to confer with Jackson. He hastened to Van Buren, who was no doubt prolific of suggestions; thence to the White House to be cordially received. The following morning he breakfasted with the President, who urged him to remain at the White House while revising the Message. In going over the draft, which he found the “work of different hands,” he was surprised to find that “the Bank of the United States was attacked at great length in a loose, newspaper slashing style.” He found much to do. It was four o’clock in the morning when Jackson, hearing some one tinkering with the fire in the grate, entered Hamilton’s room in his nightgown.
“My dear Colonel, why are you up so late?” he asked.
“I am at my work which I intend to finish before I sleep,” Hamilton replied.
At which the mulatto who slept on a rug in Jackson’s room was sent in to keep Hamilton’s fire going. At eight in the morning the latter appeared in the President’s room to report the completion of his task.
“What did you say about the Bank?” Jackson asked instantly.
“Very little.”
And the son of Alexander Hamilton read the brief paragraph challenging the constitutionality and the expediency of the Bank his father had created, and declaring that it had “failed in the great end of establishing a uniform and sound currency.”
“Do you think that is all I ought to say?” asked Jackson.