In inducing John Jay to lead his party, Hamilton made a good start. Heretofore Jay had steadily refused to become a candidate for governor. "That the office of the first magistrate of the State," he wrote, May 16, 1777, "will be more respectable as well as more lucrative than the place I now fill is very apparent; but my object in the course of the present great contest neither has been nor will be either rank or money."[58] After his return from Europe, when Governor Clinton's division of patronage and treatment of royalists had become intensely objectionable, Jay was again urged to stand as a candidate, but he answered that "a servant should not leave a good old master for the sake of more pay or a prettier livery."[59] If this was good reasoning in 1786 and 1789, when he was secretary of foreign affairs, it was better reasoning in 1792, when he was chief justice of the United States; but the pleadings of Hamilton seem to have set a presidential bee buzzing, or, at least, to have started ambition in a mind until now without ambition. At any rate, Jay, suddenly and without any apparent reason, consented to exchange the most exalted office next to President, to chance the New York governorship.
There had never been a time since John Jay entered public life that he was not the most popular man in the city of New York. In 1788 he received for delegate to the Poughkeepsie convention, twenty-seven hundred and thirty-five votes out of a total of twenty-eight hundred and thirty-three. John Adams called him "a Roman" because he resembled Cato more than any of his contemporaries. Jay's life divided itself into three distinct epochs of twenty-eight years each—study and the practice of law, public employment, and retirement. During the years of uninterrupted public life, he ran the gamut of office-holding. It is a long catalogue, including delegate to the Continental Congress, framer of the New York Constitution, chief justice of the New York Supreme Court, president of the Continental Congress, minister to Spain, member of the Peace Commission, secretary of foreign affairs, chief justice of the United States Supreme Court, negotiator of the Jay treaty, and finally governor of New York. No other American save John Quincy Adams and John Marshall ever served his country so continuously in such exalted and responsible place. On his return from Europe after an absence of five years, Adams said he returned to his country "like a bee to its hive, with both legs loaded with merit and honour."[60]
Jay accepted the nomination for governor in 1792, on condition that he be not asked to take part in the campaign. "I made it a rule," he wrote afterward, "neither to begin correspondence nor conversation upon the subject."[61] Accordingly, while New York was deeply stirred, the Chief Justice leisurely rode over his circuit, out of hearing and out of sight of the political disturbance, apparently indifferent to the result.
The real political campaign which is still periodically made in New York, may be said to have had its beginning in April, 1792. Seldom has an election been contested with such prodigality of partisan fury. The rhetoric of abuse was vigorous and unrestrained; the campaign lie active and ingenious; the arraignment of class against class sedulous and adroit, and the excitement most violent and memorable. If a weapon of political warfare failed to be handled with craft and with courage, its skilful use was unknown.
Indeed, if any one doubts that it was a real time of political upheaval, he has only to glance at local histories. Federalists and anti-Federalists were alike convulsed by a movement which was the offspring of a genuine and irresistible enthusiasm of that strong, far-reaching kind that makes epochs in the history of politics. The people having cut loose from royalty, now proposed cutting loose from silk stockings, knee breeches, powdered hair, pigtails, shoe buckles, and ruffled shirts—the emblems of nobility. Perhaps they did not then care for the red plush waistcoats, the yarn stockings, and the slippers down at the heel, which Jefferson was to carry into the White House; but in their effort to overthrow the tyranny of the past, they were beginning to demand broader suffrage and less ceremony, a larger, freer man, and less caste. To them, therefore, Jay and Clinton represented the aristocrat and the democrat. Jay, they said, had been nurtured in the lap of ease, Clinton had worked his way from the most humble rank; Jay luxuriated in splendid courts, Clinton dwelt in the home of the lowly son of toil; Jay was the choice of the rich, Clinton the man of the people; Jay relied upon the support of the President and the Secretary of the Treasury, Clinton upon the poor villager and the toiling farmer.
Newspapers charged Jay with saying that "there ought to be in America only two sorts of people, one very rich, the other very poor,"[62] and to support the misrepresentation, they quoted his favourite maxim that "those who own the country ought to govern it," pointing to the State Constitution which he drafted, to prove that only the well-to-do could vote. The Dutch, largely the slave holders of the State, accused him of wishing to rob them by the abolition of slavery. Dressed in other rhetorical clothes, these stories did service again in 1795 and 1798.
But the assumption of state debts, and Hamilton's financial system, became the fiercest objects of attack. To them were traced the "reign of speculators" that flowered in the year 1791. "Bank bubbles, tontines, lotteries, monopolies, usury, gambling and swindling abound," said the New York Journal; "poverty in the country, luxury in the capitals, corruption and usurpation in the national councils." Hamilton's system had given the deepest stab to the hopes of the anti-Federalists, since it taught people to look to the Union rather than to the State. Internal taxes and import duties were paid to the United States; coin was minted by the United States; paper money issued by the United States; letters carried and delivered by the United States; and state debts assumed by the United States. All this had a tendency to break state attachments and state importance; and in striking back, Republican orators branded the reports of the Secretary of the Treasury as "dangerous to liberty," the assumption of debts as "a clever device for enslaving the people," and the whole fiscal system "a dishonest scheme." The failure and imprisonment of William Duer, until recently Hamilton's trusted assistant, followed by riots in New York City, gave colour to the charge, and, although the most bitter opponents of the great Federalist in no wise connected him with any corrupt transaction, yet in the spring of 1792 Hamilton, the friend and backer of Jay, was the most roundly abused man in the campaign.
The Federalists resented misrepresentation with misrepresentation. Clinton's use of patronage, his opposition to the Federal Constitution, and the impropriety of having a military governor in time of peace, objections left over from 1789, still figured as set pieces in rhetorical fireworks; but the great red light, burned at every meeting throughout the State, exposed Governor Clinton as secretly profiting by the sale of public lands. The Legislature of 1791 authorised the five state officers, acting as Commissioners of the Land Office, to sell unappropriated lands in such parcels and on such terms as they deemed expedient, and under this power 5,542,173 acres returned $1,030,433. Some of the land brought three shillings per acre, some two shillings six pence, some one shilling, but Alexander McComb picked up 3,635,200 acres at eight pence. McComb was a friend of Clinton. More than that, he was a real estate dealer and speculator. In the legislative investigation that followed, resolutions condemning the commissioners' conduct tangled up Clinton in a division of the profits, and sent McComb to jail. This was a sweet morsel for the Federalists. It mattered not that the Governor denied it; that McComb contradicted it; that no proof supported it; or that the Assembly acquitted him by a party vote of thirty-five to twenty; the story did effective campaign service, and lived to torture Aaron Burr, one of the commissioners, ten years afterward. Burr tried to escape responsibility by pleading absence when the contracts were made; but the question never ceased coming up—if absence included all the months of McComb's negotiations, what time did the Attorney-General give to public business?
It was a deep grief to Jay that the Livingstons opposed him. The Chancellor and Edward were his wife's cousins, Brockholst her brother. Brockholst had been Jay's private secretary at the embassy in Madrid, but now, to use a famous expression of that day, "the young man's head was on fire," and violence characterised his political feelings and conduct. Satirical letters falsely attributed to Jay fanned the sparks of the Livingston opposition into a bright blaze, and, although the Chief Justice denied the insinuation, the Chancellor gave battle with the enthusiasm of a new convert.
As one glances through the list of workers in the campaign of 1792, he is reminded that the juniors or beginners soon came to occupy higher and more influential positions than some of their elders and leaders. DeWitt Clinton, for instance, not yet in office, was soon to be in the Assembly, in the State Senate, and in the United States Senate—a greater force than any man of his time in New York, save Hamilton. James Kent had just entered the Assembly. As a student in Egbert Benson's office, his remarkable industry impressed clients and teacher, but when his voice sounded the praises of John Jay, few could have anticipated that this young man, small in stature, vivacious in speech, quick in action, with dark eyes and a swarthy complexion, was destined to become one of the most famous jurists in a century. Ambrose Spencer had not yet scored his first political honour, but his herculean frame and stately presence, with eyes and complexion darker than Kent's, are to be seen leading in every political contest for more than forty years.