Clinton argued that the governor, being charged under the Constitution with the execution of the laws, was vested with exclusive discretion as to the number of officers necessary to their execution, whereas, if left to one not responsible for such execution, too many or too few officials might be created. With respect to the continuation of an incumbent in office at the pleasure of the Council, "the Constitution did not intend," he said, "a capricious, arbitrary pleasure, but a sound discretion to be exercised for the promotion of the public good; that a contrary practice would deprive men of their offices because they have too much independence of spirit to support measures they suppose injurious to the community, and might induce others from undue attachment to office to sacrifice their integrity to improper considerations."[70] This was good reasoning and good prophecy; but his protests fell upon ears as deaf to a wise policy as did the protests of Jay's friends when the board of canvassers counted Jay out and Clinton in.
The action of the Council of Appointment was a stunning blow to Clinton. Under Jay's constitution, every officer in city, county, and State, civil and military, save governor, lieutenant-governor, members of the Legislature, and aldermen, could now be appointed by the Council regardless of the Governor; and already these appointments mounted up into hundreds. In 1821 they numbered over fifteen thousand. Thus, as if by magic, the Council was turned into a political machine. Under this arrangement, a party only needed a majority of the Assembly to elect a Council which made all appointments, and the control of appointments was sufficient to elect a majority of the Assembly. Thus it was an endless chain the moment the Council became a political machine, and it became a political machine the moment Philip Schuyler headed the Council of 1793.
This arbitrary proceeding led to twenty years of corrupt methods and political scandals. Schuyler's justification was probably the conviction that poetic justice required that Clinton, having become governor without right, should have his powers reduced to their lowest terms; but whatever the motive, his action was indefensible, and his reply that the Governor's practices did not correspond to his precepts fell for want of proof. Clinton had then been in office seventeen years, and, although he took good care to select members of his own party, only one case, and that a doubtful one, could be cited in support of the charge that appointments had been made solely for political purposes.
In a published address, on January 22, 1795, Governor Clinton declined to stand for re-election in the following April because of ill health and neglected private affairs. Included in this letter was the somewhat apocryphal statement that he withdrew from an office never solicited, which he had accepted with diffidence, and from which he should retire with pleasure. The reader who has followed the story of his career through the campaigns of 1789 and 1792 will scarcely believe him serious in this declaration, although he undoubtedly retired with pleasure. At the time of his withdrawal, he had an attack of inflammatory rheumatism, but he was neither a sick man nor an old one, being then in his fifty-fifth year, with twelve years of honourable public life still before him. It is likely the reason in the old rhyme, "He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day," had more to do with his retirement than shattered health and crippled fortune. Defeat has never been regarded helpful to future political preferment, and this shrewd reader of the signs of the times, his ambition already fixed on higher honours and more exalted place, saw the coming political change in New York as clearly and unmistakably as an approaching storm announced itself in an increase of his rheumatic aches.
CHAPTER VII
RECOGNITION OF EARNEST MEN
1795-1800
With Clinton out of the race for governor in 1795, his party's weakness discovered itself in the selection of Chief Justice Robert Yates, Hamilton's coalition candidate in 1789. It was a makeshift nomination, since none cared to run after Clinton's declination sounded a note of defeat. Yates' passion for office led him into strange blunders. He seemed willing to become the candidate of any party, under any conditions, at any time, if only he could step into the official shoes of George Clinton. He was excusable in 1789, perhaps, when the way opened up a fair chance of success, but in 1795 his ambition subjected him to ridicule as well as to humiliation. It was said derisively that he was defeated, although every freeholder in the State had voted for him.
The Federalists were far from unanimous in their choice of John Jay. He had not yet returned from England, whither Washington had sent him in the preceding year to negotiate a treaty to recover, among other things, compensation for negroes who followed English troops across the Atlantic at the close of the war; to obtain a surrender of the Western military posts not yet evacuated; and to secure an article against impressments. It was believed that a storm of disapproval would greet his work, and the timid ones seriously questioned the expediency of his nomination. The submission of the treaty had already precipitated a crisis in the United States Senate, and while it might not be ratified and officially promulgated before election, grave danger existed of its clandestine publication by the press. Hamilton, however, insisted, and Jay became the nominee. "It had been so decreed from the beginning," wrote Egbert Benson.
The campaign that followed was featureless. Chief Justice Yates aroused no interest, and Chief Justice Jay was in England. From the outset, Jay's election was conceded; and a canvass of the votes showed that he had swept the State by a large majority. In 1789 Clinton received a majority of 489; in 1792 the canvassers gave him 108; but in 1795 Jay had 1589.[71]